Azaezel quickly decides that looking wasn't the best option. The skin on his hands appears to be melting right off of his body. There are numerous little holes and rips in the skin and it is sagging unnaturally. Oddly enough, it doesn't hurt or bleed.

Fighting tooth and nale the urge to gag, Azaezel reaches up with his other hand and starts to pull away the (dead) skin.

The skin peels off easily, and does it ever come off. Pulling, Azaezel ends up with a large section of skin which covered the entirety of his arm from the middle of his bicep down. The "flesh" underneath is a dark metallic color, vaugely silvery. The metalic tone merges seemlessly with his flesh at the bicep and the arm itself is well defined, though lacking those little details like pores, hairs, scars, and moles. His other arm does the same, and, when he gets the nerve to check, he finds a similar transformation has struck his legs.

The lower appendages change at roughly mid-thigh into a shiny metalic finish.

Kyle struggled to his feet, reaching for a chocolate bar reflexively even as he remembered eating the last one. He shuddered violently for a few seconds, nearly falling to the floor again, then steadied and looked around for something to eat or drink. Finding the water, he drank a small amount and then fell upon a ration bar.

Daemon growls as he gains consciousness, his rough tounge flicking over his tusks. Damned if he isn't famished. Don't exactly feel right in the skin either. He runs a hand along the back of his neck reflexivly, his tail flicks up under his left ear to check on the jack there.

`Anyone got any idea how long we've been down?`

He shifts his vision to low light, and starts to look about, to see if he can assess the general look of the others. He's looking for signs of shock.

Blinking blearily, Skooter fumbles a 2-liter Fizzy-Cola out of his shoulderbag with shaky hands, and slugs most of it down before ravenously tearing open a bag of jerky and gnawing strips of it. He absently rubs his sore forearms as he struggles to bring himself back to full awareness. He watches Azaezel pulling the skin off of his limbs with a morbid fascination "Drek, I hope that doesn't happen to me," he thinks. He slugs down the rest of the cola before refilling the now-empty bottle with water - he'll have to remember to clean it up later, but right now he's still feeling a bit groggy.

He shakes his head at Daemon's querry. "Damn, I don't know. Couldn't have been more than a day or so, though." He continues to look suspiciously at his forearms, wondering if he'll start turning metallic, too. He takes a look at the astral - Fink's pronouncement was a bit too vague, and he wants to see what he was talking about for himself.

Fink grabs a ration bar and begins to knaw on it. "According to that computer, its been two days almost. What do we do now?"

Figuring he might as well go all the way, Azaezel pulls his boots off and does the same thing to his legs.

He rubs his hands together, bangs them against the wall, just trying to get a feel for it.

@Azaezel
The stone material of the wall cracks under the punch, but there is no pain. The knuckle of the first that did it, if it can even be called a knuckle at this point, doesn't show any signs of damage. Whatever it is, it looks to be harder than drek. The hunger he is feeling distracts him from the spectacle somewhat, however.

@Fink
The ration bars are disappearing rapidly. Fortunately, Fink knows he has a few more stashed about his person, or the gnawing hunger he feels would be unbearable. The fuzzy feeling in his brain keeps going on, and he gets the distinct feeling of hunger. A lot of it. Oddly enough, it doesn't really feel like his own.

@Skooter
The ache is still there as he examines his arms. It almost feels like they're full of something, but that's probably just his imagination. A look around the astral gives much the results Fink had suggested. Everyone's aura is a little different, but all appear relatively healthy.

@Kyle
The chocolate seems like a dream compared to the dry ration bar which is at least a month past its expiration date. However, that bar vanishes, along with a second. Unfortunately, it doesn't do much for the gnawing hunger in his guts.

Daemon
Daemon is somewhat annoyed to find his low light is hazing out. He starts fiddling with it and his tail accidently brushes against a standing pipe. There is a soft "pop" of static discharge and the vision clears up quickly. A rumbling in his stomach seems to indicate he had best grab something from the rapidly dwindling pile of rations if he wants to sate the gnawing in his belly.

"Whoa," Azaezel says quietly at the spectacle.

"Damn I'm hungry," he says as he grabs some of the ration bars and wolf's them down.

"Ok this isn't cutting it, I am still hungry as drek, and getting hungrier. Were going to have to move out here soon and find some grub. Why don't one of you mages conjure us up a spirit and have him find us an exit to the surface that isn't near any police."

"MmKay", Fink says through a mouth full of food. He takes a moment to concentrate and call a City Spirit to him. While all this is going on, he concentrates on what is going on to his head, trying to figure it out. For a moment he thinks to himself, Is somebody in there?

Concentrating on the feeling, Fink is able to pin it down somewhat. As he thinks about it, he seems to be reading the raw emotion from some of the other people in the room. It doesn't feel anything like doing it through auras, either.

There is a low rubbling in the room as one of the pipes running through the room seems to burst open. A flood of rats pour out of the pipe and onto the floor, one on top of the other. The swarm shifts around and the rats crawl all over each other until they seem to have a pattern of some sort. They form what looks to be a huge statue of a rat, made from a squirming mass of smaller rats. They all squeak as one, awaiting a command.

"Go now, my friends, and find me the closest exit from these sewers thats leads to the surface. Make sure that there are no other people near the exit and if there is, find me another."

The huge rat mass falls to the floor and the swarm of rats run out of the room, fading from sight as they go.

Kyle finished the second ration bar when recent events finally hit him. He glanced down at himself, then around at the others, trying to multiply large primes in his head while fighting rising panic.

Skooter empties the rest of the junk food out of his bag, and shakes his head as it starts disappearing. "Okay, this isn't cutting it. Time to replenish our rations, here - whatever happened to us, we need to refuel pretty badly." Skooter raises his hands over the ricketty table, and his features take on an otherworldly look of sardonic mischief as the air shimmers and flat loaves of some kind of bread seem to shimmer into existence.

After a short time, the rat comes slinking back. It seems ready to be followed.

"Alright, looks like we've got an exit. Everyone ready?"

Once hearding a resounding yes, Fink walks out the door, letting the rat lead the way.

It doesn't take long to realize that the rat is leading you right back to the place where you entered the sewers. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the group is staring at the ladder leading up.

"Hmm.. Well, its been two days, I bet it is likely to be clear.. Who wants to go make sure?"

"I will," Azaezel says and shuffles forwards through the group. He climbs the ladder as quietly as possible. When he reaches the top, he sticks his ear up and listens patiently for any noise.

"Somone want to do an astral flyby?" He whispers back down the ladder."

"I can handle it", Fink says as he lays himself back against the wall, closes his eyes, and lets his astral form float out and up into the building.

Daemon's desire to figure out what the frag's causing the interferance with his eyes fades with the rumbling of his stomach. When the bread makes it's appearance, he's quick to step up and snag a piece. He doesn't pay much attention to anything but the food until it's time to head out. He follows along, steeling himself a bit. Time to get with the program. He's been on a one way trip to Weirdsville today, and he doesn't want to get lost on the freeway.

Fink slides through the astral stonework, popping out on the other side of the floor. The parking garage stretches away in all directions, poorly lit on the astral plane as well as the physical. It does not appear to be occupied.

At the speed of thought, Fink wills himself up through the building, trying to see if there are any other lifeforms here. He also peeks out a few windows to make sure everything is cool on the street.

In the dim light of the real world, Fink cannot find anyone living in the building. The entire complex appears deserted except for a few rats which have moved in to places where humans once dwelled. Beyond the immediate area, there appear to be some lifeforms about one hundred meters down the street from the main garage exit, but they are milling about and don't appear to be military. Without going closer, it's hard to tell anything more about them.

Fink returns to his body and opens his eyes.

"The building is clear, down the street are a few lifeforms, but I can't tell what they are from here. For now, lets get ourselves up that ladder and into some fresh air."

"That's what I was waiting to hear," in one smooth motion, Azaezel gabs the rungs of the latter, and lets himself fall backwards, bringing his feet up at the same time his body is moving down. His feet slam into the wedged bars with all the strength of muscle and momentum.

Azaezel's movements are even more powerful than he hoped and the grate breaks free of the frame on all sides, slamming into the ceiling some twelve feet up and bouncing into the hood of a Jackrabbit packed nearby. The fall down the shaft should have ended in some scuffs or bruises, but the impact doesn't phase him in the slightest.

Fink just blinks.

"Wow."

He pauses for another moment and then starts to make his way up the ladder.

Azaezel lands at the foot of the latter with an audible "oomph". He watches in awe as the heavy metal grate flies through the air.

"I guess I am a little stronger than I thought."

Azaezel picks himself up and climbs up the wrungs, when he gets to the top he moves quietly, keeping his eyes an ears open for trouble.

"Holy crud. It's like he really is metal," thinks Skooter. "I wonder if refrigerator magnets would stick to him?" He rubs his forearms again. So what freaky thing happened to him? At least, whatever it is, it doesn't seem as obvious of a change.

Kyle looked over at Azaezel, surveying the situation.
"If someone turns into a scarecrow, I'm leaving..."

He just blinks when their resident Tin Man makes his Superman showing, and files in with the rest.

`Anyone even thinks about calling me the Cowardly Lion...`

He just trails off, scratching at the back of his neck.

Climbing out of the sewer, Skooter takes a grateful breath of (comparatively) fresh air. After everyone else makes it out, he turns to Fink. "So, whereabouts were those other 'lifeforms'? I'm kind of curious who would be out in the streets, so soon after all those goons were here."

Climbing out of the sewers, Fink says to Skooter, "They're outside and down the street a ways."

Kyle followed out, walking around, trying to clear his head.

At the top of the garage he takes a quick look around.

"Well, it looks clear, we should probably get out of here pretty quick, Daemon, want to check on your car?"

Fink walks over to his bike to check and make sure its still in good shape.

The garage is empty of all life, though the vehicles appear to have been largely unmolested (save for the jackrabbit which is now leaking various important liquids). Power seems to have been cut from this building, though not completely The baleful red of an emergency light still shines in the dark underbelly of the garage, giving you some light.

Above, it's probably late afternoon, bordering on night. At the far ends of the garage, dying sunlight can be seen at the entrances, though it does not go far underground.

Satisfied that his bike is still in good shape, Fink walks over to the garage exit and takes a peak outside to see whats going on. He then switches his sight to the Astral to see if that gives any more clues.

The sight that greets Fink's eyes is somewhat surprising. Half a block or so distant, a corner dinner appears to be under seige. A few individuals, perhapse half a dozen, in ragged clothing are watching the place from behind makeshift barricades, and occisionally shots ring out. Someone appears to holed up in the dinner, and firing back when presented with a target.

"Hey guys! Get a load of this! What do you think thats all about?"

Kyle peered out, examining the scene outside.
"Should we try to go around?"

Fink concentrates for a moment, calling a watcher to his side.

"Go now into that building there, find out how many people are inside, and then report back to me."

He then looks back to what is going on, zooming in with his optical mag to get a closer look.

Azaezel takes a quick look then pulls his head back in. "Looks bad for the guy in the dinner."

He thinks for a moment, looks up at the sun, "you know I really hate to see people out gunned, let me go take a look around."

He slips out of the garage and into the twilight shadows.

"All right, then, if everyone else is going to sneak around, I'll settle for giving us a bit of arial recon." With that, Skooter seems to suddenly fade from view. Those who resist his invisibility see him lift up into the air and float away, heading towards the battle.

Daemon scopes out his car, doing a quick walk around before approaching, deactivating the security shock by remote as he does. He gets into the car and does an internal visual. Running a hand over the dash, he smiles a toothy smile.

`Ain't no one gonna mess with you honey. Don't you worry.`

He steps out after a moment, and walks over to join those still looking down towards the diner. He gives a moment to assess the situation. Looks like the owner or someone's making a last stand. He doesn't like their odds. Looking about, he spots everyone going ninja, and he grunts.

`Frag this, ain't no one gonna help the guy?`

He jogs back to his car and slides on in. Jacking in, he unholsters his Roomsweeper, checking the ammo count. He sets the piece in his lap, and starts up the car. No, stealth's no concern with the roar of this turbocharged engine. He peels out of the spot, reching over to throw on some harcore tunes, and he guns in on out of the gate to the street beyond.

The watcher twists in midair and dematerializes and zips off. On the Astral, Fink can see it skating toward the dinner in a direct fashion.

Under magnification, the scene is simply confirmed to be as thought. Perhaps seven individuals are hunkered down behind makeshift cover laying siege to the small dinner. The windows appear to have been boarded up hastily with tables, and occasionally shots come from different firing positions, both inside and out. From the look of them, the siegers are gangers, though they're a bit dirtier than you would expect from most downtown gangs. They are mostly human, though at least one looks like an ork. No useful sight of the people inside is available.

As people creep closer, they see this, as well. As Daemon blasts his stereo and throttle, some of the guys outside the dinner turn and watch warily, their weapons ready to fire. The ones in the barricades closest to the street shift nervously and look ready to find new cover if the driver bears down on them.

About that time, the watcher drifts back to Fink. "Dey is five bein's inside."

Fink smiles to the little watcher, "Thanks friend, stay close, I may need you again."

He then climbs onto his chopper and revs the engine to life. Man... I spend so much time trying to stay outta trouble... what am I getting myself into?

Pulling out of the driveway, Fink calls the City Spirit to his side and asks it to cloak him from the sight of others.

Fink can feel the spirit wrap him in shadows, though the sound of his engine still purrs through a bit.