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You might as well tell her about her little SCIENCE PROJECT, right? Making a decidedly futile attempt to retrieve the raccoon from inside your shirt, you abandon the endeavor and cover up your irritation with a tired sigh–she knows that Talbot’s human now, right?
“Wh-Wh-WHA!?” Denise sputters, sending a fresh spray of sweat towards the cell door! “Buh-buh-but HOW?!”
Buh-buh-buh-YOU USED MAGIC, you retort! You found this PEARL thing during that annoying encounter with the MERMAIDS–it fixed him up lickety-split!
“Wait…” Jun mutters as he leans in closer, “Mermaids… are REAL?”
Yea, you nod, and they’re total BASKET CASES, so don’t even think about it! Anyways, you shrug, he’s fixed, so she might want to, like, avoid open lockers and toilets for a while.
If the scientist hears your warning, she doesn’t react to it. “Th-th-this is INCREDIBLE, STAN! Y-you mean to say that h-he’s been r-reverted to human form? W-with no side effects!?”
The prisoner is inches from eagerly grabbing your shoulders before Jun’s baton turns on again. Backing off a bit, Denise’ excitement swiftly fades into a slew of maddened ramblings: “... would it be a RESTORATION, though, or more of a SYMBIOSIS… Goodboynium’s inherently contaminated with magic, so-”
Snapping her out of it with a flick to the forehead, you ask Denise to make like a fridge and COOL IT! What’s she so excited about, anyways? He’s TOTALLY gonna bully the heck outta her!
“W-well,” She replies, twiddling her thumbs excitedly, “Th-this situation is r-RIPE with possibilities, Stanley… If w-what you s-say is true, T-Talbie c-could provide all KINDS of scientific data and kn-knowledge with h-his new form!” Scraping a few scribbles into the floor of her cell with her jagged, chewed nails, Denise turns to look at you again with an eerily-enthusiastic grin!
“T-tell me: d-does he still exhibit full control over his ACTIVE DEFENSES? Th-the GOODBOYNIUM PSEUDOPODS? BUILT-IN SUGGESTION DEVICES? OOH!” Her eyes light up behind her broad spectacles, “Wh-what about that SYMPATHETIC TRACKING DEVICE? C-Can he still f-feel when you’re in pain or sl-sleeping and locate you??”
Wading through the big words, you nearly trip over the last few–wait, what did she say about a TRACKING DEVI-
“Y-you needn’t worry about me, Stanley…” Denise sighs as a wistful smile forms on her face, “T-Talbie might seem abrasive a-and hostile, b-but you don’t know him like I do!” A faint reddish hue forms in the scientist’s cheeks. “H-he’s not that bad…”
A tiny itch is telling you that you REALLY don’t wanna go down this path, but another REALLY wants to ask… While Denise returns to her notes, you steer the conversation back on track:
>CONTD.
