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She felt humiliated by this point. Too many people looking, judging. The teacher with a quizzical and stern look on the face. Ume for her part was being extremely kind in trying to assuage Dahlia's usual anxious antics, furthering the scared woman's shame as her friend cleaned up after her. Dahlia had barely even touched her wine, she hadn't slept that badly last night (well, no worse than her baseline 'terrible'). This was supposed to be a nice relaxing night for the duo and Dahlia felt like she was ruining it. She stared at the inky blob as Ume so kindly blotted and cleaned it up with a rag, and Dahlia was unable to miss the focused, blinking eyes glaring at her as they were swept away. Accusatory.

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Dahlia blinked rapidly hoping to clear her eyes, maybe realize she had been seeing stars or something. Maybe she was dehydrated. No, the empty glass of water next to her mostly-full wine disproved that. She looked to her friend but avoided the other woman's eyes. "Thank you... I don't know what's going on." Dahlia fidgeted with empty hands but surveyed her now-empty cave. It certainly had an air to it as it was, dark and inviting, it's dimensions malleable and up for interpretation. Somehow it was scarier this way- Dahlia could almost hear the deafening silence of Nothing, the way even her breath would be too loud in her ears and she would instinctually hold it for fear of being discovered. It reminded her of that awful recurring dream of the moving abyss.

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She shivered and licked at dry lips. The decanter of water was across the room so Dahlia took an almost imperceptible sip of her wine again. It did little to help the draught on her tongue. She swept her hair back behind an ear and fussed at the hem of her dress before taking a deep breath and letting out an audible sigh. She glanced to Umeko's work, feeling a little more at peace in imagining that particular landscape. Rather than bad dreams it reminded her of a time more peaceful. Dahlia took up her palette and brush once more.

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She refined the cave's edge where it would meet the field, lighting the opening just a little to try and better match the tones of the field. Then she finished out the peripherals of the cave, giving it a slightly more cavernous appearance than the original tunnel which gave room to flesh out the landscape of the better-lit parts. She left the depths of the cave dark and swirling- they weren't meant to be understood, just foreboding. Stalagmites formed along with a few chunks of rock and pebble, the dirt gained a bit more texture, slightly trodden. She added some vague mushrooms in brown, a bit of grass at the very front of the cave where it had still managed to receive some sunlight. Dahlia paused and stared at the painting, waiting.

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The mushrooms didn't move. The grass didn't sway. She sighed again and continued- she wanted to give life to this space. The silhouette of something toothed and winged, perhaps a bat blending into the darkness further inside. Small blots and lines on the walls, centipedes and the odd spider. Dahlia got carried away. She added a pair of just antlers now, no attached silhouettes, no teeth, just vague branches of skeleton in the deepest part of the cave. Then she heard it. Not the antlers, but a sound like moving dirt. Dahlia stiffened but slowly scanned her landscape; the mushrooms seemed to be moving. Bugs crawled along the walls slowly, as if captured in low-frame stop motion. The echo of a squeak from somewhere far away. The grinding of rock and the low howl of wind. Those antlers shifted and grew- no they were moving closer. Something was attached to them, something Dahlia hadn't drawn. A small inky bat fully flew out of the canvas and fluttered around the room, causing Dahlia to shriek. The bat shrieked too.

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"No, no, I'm done! Painting is scary!" She grabbed the canvas from the easel and hefted it overhead, trying to swat at the bat but missing terribly. The teacher for his part seemed worried, but snapped fingers with a look of triumphant recollection. "Of coeurse, I must 'ave accidentally given you ze cursed easel!" He crossed his arms and nodded to himself but offered no further assistance. Dahlia felt something wriggle onto her sleeve and shook, a little painted millipede plopping to the floor. She had grabbed the painting but felt the overwhelming need to be rid of it. Dahlia repositioned the painting to hold it by the front and back overhead like a sail and in a fit of desperation flung it end over end through the air. It crashed through one of the studio windows and disappeared into the night; the painted bat flew out with the millipede slowly following. She grabbed and hurled the easel out too for good measure; the instructor only nodded knowingly, unphased.

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Dahlia turned to her friend, tears in her eyes, spirit broken. She took her first full drink of her wine and winced- she didn't really like it. "...I'm sorry I painted an evil cave. I- I really liked your field."

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The setting for today was a nice candlelit art studio, large open windows with the curtains drawn back to reveal the second story night sky. The stars were so bright and visible these days as light pollution had been largely cut back, sometimes due to a lack of power but usually because there were just so few people around now. Sometimes the end of the world had it's small perks.

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Dahlia sat in a reasonably comfortable backed stool with a small serving table next to her and slightly out of the way. Atop her table was a glass of a saverneigh? Salivot? Sauvignon something or rather- Dahlia didn't really know wine, but she'd sipped a little and found the taste rather nice. People would often talk about fruit notes or "body" and such, maybe talk about "tannins" (whatever those were), but to Dahlia it was just a little sweet, a little sour. Next to her drink lay a plate of crackers and dried tomatoes, some salt and pepper for the fruit, and a some grapes. She'd declined the cheese and meat which would have made the bulk of the plate.

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In front of her though was the true spotlight of the evening. The dreaded empty canvas atop a squeaky easel, Dahlia's paints had yet to grace the fabric. She hadn't slept much the night before as usual, having had a dream of a date disaster with a faceless tall woman who could only be a subconscious interpretation of Umeko as far as Dahlia could tell. Having a lovely painting course with your closest post-apocalypse friend was nerve-wracking enough in it's own way, but Dahlia had been unable to be seated at the back of the class and so had people behind her who would surely see her poor artistic merit. Further, Umeko of all people would see it as well.

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It wasn't that Dahlia had zero ability to create, to make something, it was just that the focus of nearly all her talents revolved around fairly specific genre and styling. How was she supposed to paint a landscape, naturalistic and beautiful and nothing remotely resembling viscera, not translating terror or panic or desperation but instead, what, peace? Simplicity? She spent the first ten minutes fretting, shifting, sweating. She needed more inspiration, but avoided looking to Ume. Dahlia also wanted to impress, at least a little. The teacher in their initial spiel had broached finding the "Meaning and Truth of your art"- surely that accounted for artistic liberties.

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Dahlia started out simple, in broad strokes outlining the dark cavern in purples and greys, a bit of white to mix, merely drawing out her dimensions. Then she continued, finally feeling a small bit of inspiration. A shape, nearly formless in the dark as it's appendages blended into the edges and walls. It was hard to tell where the thing ended and the cave began. It was still a landscape, just a landscape with a thing inside of it. She gave it the vague impression of a mouth with too many teeth, and from there depressions that would indicate eye sockets, but no actual organs for sight.

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Pulling itself toward Dahlia. "Whaaaa-" The canvas seemed to flutter at the edges and strain as the small shadowy blob crawled out of the painting and toward Dahlia's frozen brush hand. She slapped it away to the floor and instinctively stomped on it. It splattered against the wood flooring in a burst of inky paint. She turned to her friend in fear-stricken awe.

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"Uh-um... Ume?" Dahlia was acutely aware of the eyes in the class now on her, the teacher especially. It kind of just looked like she'd splattered paint on the floor and then stepped on it. For some reason the instructor clapped.

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She'd been holding her breath and crawling backward for a moment now. Maybe closer to twenty seconds, but every second under that sewer water felt like an eternity when a spear-wielding metal monstrosity was bearing down on you. Twenty-five seconds, everything hurt. Her body was sore from activity, hands and other spots torn and cut by thorns, the previous spear wound refusing to clot while submerged and moving. Life had been hard since Dahlia was apocalypse'd, but this put it into a new light.

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This world was all the hells incarnate.

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As if to solidify the sentiment something burst into existence. Through the water Dahlia had almost heard the initial smash, but it was the crash of concrete debris raining down onto her, the sound of a huge mechanoid crashing into the waterway. She felt her body start to be displaced in the rushed of water but felt the chunks of road (or ceiling?) collapsing onto her, halting her progress backward. Dahlia's legs were pinned, her body still underwater. She heard the groan of something above her. But no immediate stabbing. No mechanoid smashing her further.

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She still had lung capacity left. Extricating from the rubble wasn't difficult given Dahlia's newfound class-enhanced strength, but doing so without being noticed would be far harder. She took her time as best she could, fully knowing she would need to breath soon. Her lungs screamed and she barely resisted doing so herself. The thorns tore further into her pant legs but she persevered. The shining moment came- Dahlia would need to actually emerge slightly to get past and under the robot's legs and it's new waterway blockage. She flipped over, stomach to the air and brought just her mouth to the surface, sucking in as much air as she could as quietly as possible. She managed to drink some of the water, but resisted the urge to vomit.

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From there her head and upper torso. It wouldn't be so simple as to just exit the water, so she reached into inventory and drew her good arm back. She held her own weapon in hand, one she couldn't 'legally' shoot (whatever that meant in Earth-chan's terms) but could still have, still buy ammo for. Dahlia had loaded it with a blank. Good arm free of the water she whipped it back and hurled Scully's working replica underneath the legs of the bot, sending it skittering against the sides of tunnel and causing a mis-fire. With luck it would be enough of a distraction. With great effort and a hefty amount of pain she lifted free of the water and booked it to the nearest ladder access, immediately climbing toward the cover and shoving it away, not even so much as glaring at the camera just a bit further down the tunnel.

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Dahlia found herself at something of an angular run toward the apartment complex and took off through the street, her entire body angry at her. She did her best to get out of the road and put at least a small building in between her and the bot. Hopefully there'd be less cameras up here, but that seemed unlikely. There was at least an alleyway nearby if she really had to force the bot into another tight space.

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Dahlia used Core, sort of.

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Dahlia hadn't fully comprehended what 'high risk' meant anymore. Regardless of being a serial hypochondriac, imagining the worst, it seemed at every turn this world was prepared to give it's worst. Even the more mundane interactions she'd had had been fraught with peril in some way. Life and death played a constant tug of war in post Earth-chan's world. So when the whirs and clicks and stomps of something massive found her, she hadn't been prepared so much as unsurprised. Of course things always got worse- that was just her luck.

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There was no fighting this thing, that much felt certain. She had just seconds to scout out an escape, make her way within seeing distance to the safe zone. There was no way she could block, not many places to hide... save for maybe the most undignified route. Dahlia turned to sprint for a sewer plate, throwing herself at an uncomfortable angle as the wind itself parted for the thrust of the weapon. Even putting everything into a complete escape, it wasn't enough to fully dodge the attack. Too fast, too strong. It 'glanced' her side and, being the weapon of an impossibly strong metal construct, it caught the inner part of her elbow as well. Almost threaded the needle, but again, Dahlia would never be so lucky.

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She sold it as best she could, hobbling, wobbling, lifting the access porthole above her before letting it fall from her as her strength very much faltered. The act could only be benefited by actual distress, which Dahlia very much felt. Her Flight and Flight was in full effect. She let herself crumple into the open hole and unceremoniously splash into the stagnant and slimy water below, blood mixing with the old runoff as she let it carry her away at a meandering pace. She couldn't splash, couldn't swim. Her side hurt anyhow. Any less glancing and that attack would have disemboweled.

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Dahlia shifted her head ever so slightly but kept eyes closed, stealing small breaths as quietly as possible. It was hard given the wounds. She would listen and let herself drift, playing possum the whole way until she could hopefully reach the safe zone like some flesh and bone flotsam.

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Dahlia glanced around and examined the bright skyline, still nervous but feeling a bit better to be away from the crowd. The thought of being in a more dangerous place though and being confined to a relatively small safe-area was a bit worrying though. Dahlia still didn't really know how safe a 'safe-zone' even was. Could there be exceptions to that rule? She was getting lost in the scary sauce, but the prospect of seeing a room and even sorting through stuff brought her back a bit. Dahlia sighed, centered. Nodded in approval.

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"I'd love to see some rooms..." Dahlia craved a vague sense of normalcy. If she could just get a room, a laptop, scrounge up a vcr, dvd player, old media, hunt down drives. She hadn't had the time to think about stuff like that, but assembling a new media collection was maybe the most important thing in her hierarchy of needs now that Dahlia could more or less stay alive. In Umeko's earnest offer of assistance Dahlia found herself fully in agreement, and full of gratitude that she was unsure how to properly express besides just agreeing, in her own way. "I- I as well. You've been very kind, and... I'd be happy to return that however I can." She also just missed movies, like, a lot.

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Her stomach made a digestive sound, and she turned to Ume. "Tea also sounds lovely."

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The pair continued through Neo-Tokyo at a steady- if slow- pace. Well, it was just the one, Dahlia sneaking about as Miyu provided support from her chair. The mood was better today, despite the grotesque happenings before. They talked about movies and tv mostly, but got onto crosswords and true crime at one point. Miyu was strangely enthusiastic about describing the best ways to make someone disappear. They talked about favorite movie scores, favorite foods. Miyu was oddly evasive about her childhood, but everyone could be cagey about stuff. Dahlia talked about her mother, her love for horror, the way Dahlia had originally immersed herself in it as a way to connect but found an interest in time. It was a nice day, in spite of death looming around any corner.

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They finally found the last of the people (aside from Kei). This last member of the search party had been torn limb from limb- Dahlia was unable to find the head. It was gruesome enough she had to find a place to puke, and only barely avoided detection from a squad of bots, barely humanoid bearing strange looking rifles. She managed to go back and grab the only belonging she could find; the corpse had a wallet with a family picture inside. She had to keep moving.

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"Miyu, I don't know where the last person is. Even if I did... I- I'm pretty worn out." Miyu sighed on her end. "I know, doll. You're close to my hideout. Do you think you could do one last bit of journeying?" It wasn't her original mission, but she'd come here to help. Braving a bit more danger was doable now, especially if it meant finally meeting Miyu. Dahlia's heart beat just a little quicker at the thought. "I'll do my best!"

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"Then I'll lead you here~"

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It took a few hours but Dahlia found herself in front of a tall corporate building with a brand she didn't recognize. "It's a military contracting site. They used to do R&D before the world ended, and a bunch of their research evolved and went rogue after the collapse. I'm locked downstairs." Dahlia crept inside and followed the instructions, a weapon in hand at the ready to throw. To her surprise though this place of all places was empty. Even robots and enemies prowled houses, hotels, the road by the riverbank. They seemed to have been everywhere- but here, where dangerous things came from, it was barren. Dahlia found herself in an office with a strange wall design. A button underneath a desk opened a hidden door. "That should take you down."

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Down into the belly of the beast. Dahlia wandered through stark labs, all covered in dust. She passed weapons testing rooms, rooms with cages, rooms full of parts and devices in various states of completion. Computers everywhere, chemical testing, offices... she passed into a smaller area, probably a more specific project. The room was familiar. Bright lights illuminated it but it was the exact same room Miyu had called from. It was covered in dust. She saw the specific desk with a computer that clearly hadn't been turned on in some time. It was Miyu's desk.

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"Um-"

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"Dahlia, over here." The voice came not from the radio this time, but from a speaker on the wall. Next to it was a massive vault door.

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"I always love the part where the man turns around and with a straight face goes 'Karla has been dead for twelve years.'! He doesn't emote at all! I laugh every time!" Dahlia continued through the Neo-Tokyo streets, having eaten mini-bar breakfast in bed while chatting to her new friend Miyu. She still had to sneak, but found herself smiling a little. "Don't laugh, but that scene scared me..." A moment of silence. Another moment. Dahlia heard something over the radio. Shuffling? No, it continued, then got louder. Miyu was laughing, and damn hard. "Everything scares you, Dahlia!"

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"Hey, I said don't laugh!" She had to stop herself from actually raising her voice, her hushed tone still just able to convey her embarrassment. "I had a nightmare for four days about looking for my sister, and when I finally get home to ask my dad he told me I had been a ghost the whole time. It didn't even really make sense..." "Do any dreams, though?" "I mean, kind of. Sometimes. A little..."

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Dahlia slid between two vending machines underneath an awning and made herself as small as possible. The drone overhead passed by, harmless. For now. Dahlia breathed a sigh of relief. The vending machine suddenly clinked as something fell into the slot, startling Dahlia, who only barely repressed a yelp. She carefully moved in front of it and saw a can of iced coffee. "...Oh." Miyu giggled on the other end of the radio. "Thought you'd be thirsty from all the walking."

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Despite the terrifying state of Neo-Tokyo Dahlia was able to continue on without much issue, thanks to the help of Miyu and her own applied stealth. By the afternoon she had made her way to another set of coordinates, this time finding not just discarded items, but a corpse to go with it. They lay in front of a small changing sign board, displaying a myriad of ads, one hand frozen in rigor mortis grasping for the sign. No real clues as to where they were going, only that they seemed eviscerated. Dahlia held one hand over her mouth. "Oh god, oh no..."

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