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>Acquired New Clothes + Makeup, Trauma Kit, and Night Vision Goggles
You don't really have any other reason to be here so you start your trip back home. You need time to make yourself look somewhat sane, after all. Your trip back to your house is uneventful and you're starting to slowly dread how your mind is adapting to the feeling of walking around on hooves.
Hopefully the drug wears off soon.
Once you're back at your house, you place your bag on the desk in your bedroom before dipping into the bathroom for a quick clean up. You thank whatever fucked up god there is that your first power was telekinesis, you don't want to know how annoying it is to open doors or carry small things in your drugged state.
A half hour passes by. You're finishing the last touches of your makeup. Considering you don't know what missions you're getting, you went pretty light on it. Some tasteful eyeliner, some concealer to hide the bags underneath your eyes, small things like that.
Your new outfit starts with a big, floofy jacket that you intentionally got one size too big. Faux fur lines the interior to keep you nice and cozy. Fleece boots and well worn hiking pants keep your legs and feet cozy as well. You look down at your bright pink gloves, a little self indulgent but hey. Pink's good.
If it wasn't for the deer head still forcefully imposed onto where your normal head would be, you would look normal. The drug has worn off enough for you to make out a rough impression of what you look like in the mirror. You just look like...Nicole. Not a deranged mess who hears voices and can puppeteer people.
[UNSTABLE] YOU SAY THAT LIKE IT'S A BAD THING. WE KNOW WHAT YOU DON'T AND WE TELL YOU WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW. TRUST ME. YOU CAN'T TRUST ANYONE ELSE.
Regardless, your new wardrobe is going to help with first impressions.
>Base CHARM raised to 3.
Your phone starts ringing. Shit, you would've thought he would've taken longer, the pill hasn't fully worn off. You float the phone up to your ear as you accept the call. <span class="mu-r">WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THAT NOISE-</span>
You nearly fall face first into the sink. You blink a few times before you realize, oh, that wasn't the screams of a hellbeast.
"GLOBA BLOBA?" What. "What?" "I DON'T LIKE REPEATING MYSELF. DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING ANNOYING IT IS TO BE WOKEN UP AT 6 AM BECAUSE OF THIS GOD DAMN JOB?" The Handler tries his best to destroy your eardrums through your phone's receiver. "I BET YOU WERE SLEEPING ALL NICE AND COZY IN YOUR CUTE LITTLE APARTMENT. LUCKY YOU."
Suddenly, he stops sounding a bat out of hell. "Listen. I will give you this tiny bit of well earned praise. You managed to get Z-Corp to fuck off. Thank you. I might actually cry when I have to blow your brains out over the floor." You can hear his shit eating grin from here.
"Now, Nicole. Make sure to look behind you before listening in. We wouldn't want the feds listening to us, <span class="mu-i">would we?</span>" You had to resist the urge to check. Fucking asshole.
