EVENTS:

The mob flinches at Eigla's warcry, retreating into the shadows of nearby houses. Satisfied, she gets into the truck.

Eigla: "They don't seem overly threatening yet. Once the snow picks up, they should have a difficult time traveling to the mansion, and we'll have defender's advantage should they try to make the journey."

Peggy: "Ugh. Hopefully."

The group continues along the trail, taking the long way around the forest. The snowstorm intensifies, and several times they have to get out and shovel the way clear, but eventually they arrive at the mansion's doorstep.


Meanwhile, Klimt flicks a bit of the tar at the flames. It immediately explodes in a miniature fireball, the loud pop seemingly rousing Twohead from her stupor.

Head 1: "Oh... It, it's something I keep making. Is it leaking again, again? Oh...

Myla would know how to stop it. She, she always knew things, and stuff. Before she died again.

My neck aches, aches a lot. It's weird."

Her eyes are glazed over, a thick film of tar forming over their surface.

EVENTS:

Head 1: "No, she is. She, she died a long while ago. I needed to, to sew her to my body, but it didn't work. I'm too weird. So she's still dying.

She's tired. So tired."

Eigla and Rosa walk in just as Klimt finishes removing her ragged cloak.

Twohead's body is definitely not human anymore, in fact it's hard to recognise WHAT it is supposed to be. Her torso completely lacks skin, being covered in rusty, oily metal cladding and pipework, with several smokestack-like pipes protruding from her back, and a large, toothy mouth dividing her abdomen vertically. Her shoulders and crotch are mechanized and swivel in a rather unnatural, double-jointed manner. The ends of her hands seem to have worn away completely, scabby flesh peeling back to reveal metallic, spade-like bones.

Myla's head seems to be rather poorly attached, crudely sewn with metal wire and reinforced with nails. Its eyes have rolled back into their orbits, and she's also drooling black tar.


Rosa takes the chance to examine herself in a dusty mirror. She's... Well, a bit taller, closer to her original height at least. That's good.
The fact her tail is now about ten or twelve feet long is, less good. If not for her definitely shark-like fins, she could easily be confused for a lamia or eel. Lifting her kimono, she realises the sharkskin and scales seem to be creeping higher on her abdomen, and a still-stubby dorsal fin is growing on her back.

The situation is quite fishy, all things considered.

EVENTS:

Twohead convulses weakly. Klimt worries for a moment, until he realises she's just trying to shrug.

Head 1: "No. her throat, her throat goes nowhere. She, she eats what I eat.

And. And, I can't each much, or I start leaking. She tells me it's bad."


Eigla starts to leave to secure the house's perimeter, but Rosa pulls her back inside, sitting beside the warm oven. Outside, the storm's strength grows, and the wind howls past the shuttered windows. The harem girls, having placed the truck in a reasonably sheltered area, are quick to run back inside as well.

EVENTS:

Rosa updates the party's hair status. Her own is in surprisingly good shape, if a bit wet from the snow. Long, white, and- well, not exactly soft, but at least not as oily as when she was in the slaughterhouse. Eigla's is unfortunately caked with blood and tar, from beheading both Desuri and Twohead. Rosa begins gently untangling and cleaning it with her hands, humming softly.

Twohead: "The Priestess, she said - she said you were sent to kill a monster, but were taking too long to return. We, we were to help you - burn, burn the thing down. And then, we'd be, embraced, she said.

We were walking, and the storm was too strong, and - we saw someone, but then -

I, I don't remember. It hurt. It hurt a lot. I don't know. Where am I? I can't see. It's dark, it's so dark- !"

Myla: "Shoosh. Shooosh, shoosh.
Calm."

Twohead: "Okay, Myla..."