#rivervale_lodge

Sam drops the feeler, teeth grit, jaw set - not make a sound as she grabs for the second.

"...or you can write a check!"

Meawhile, Sylvi finds a soft spot, one partially just made where the feeler was! Hey, that cuts it! That penetrates!

Dagmar gets battered by multiple legs with things that feel like hard punches! Reallly hard ones.

But her life experiences mean she's not surprised or unused, and she takes that a lot better than the bite. She's not small.. not anymore

Sylvi drives her blade into that gap and shoves as hard as she can.

She does flinch, but no sound louder than a grunt. Time to rip off the other antenna.

RIPP!

PLUNGE!

Ichor sprays over both girls. ..and while Dagmar is clearly it's target, Sylvi gets one leg to the jaw that hits like a hammer

"Wow, I haven't written a check in so long not sure where i put the check book.. what the heck, I'll pay the whole twenty and buy 2 more. Hand em out at the office"

She shuts her eyes as the green gook sprays. "That's... great... Matt." She manages through clenched teeth.

The beetle shudders, curls, and ... dies.

Sylvi is still a little shaken by that hit to the jaw, but she says, "That would be 21, sir. Three dollars each." Then a whisper, "Are you okay?"

Dagmar pulls her arm free of the mandibles and cautiously flexes her hand.

"Okay, that works"

She shakes some of the ichor off of her hands, cleans her knife quickly and puts it away.

The wound is NASTY on Dagmar, a vicious laceration puncture combo.

And the many bruises don't help

Sylvi's eyes go wide. "You need healing...come back to the Lodge with me."

There is a waver in her mouth, a tweak in her eyes as she flexes her hand one more time before straightening up with a stoic expression.

"Here we go..." Matthew comes into view with the money

Set jaw and silence from Sam's corner.

"Great! Okay, so that's seven...um..." She surreptitiously wipes away splattered ichor that the man would never see. "...five...six...seven. There you go, Mr. Brown, and thanks. Um...can Sam come with me to help sell more?"

"Please?" only a little strained!

A surprised look, "Are you trying out for the play, Sam?" He says

She drops her chin and shakes her head.

Sylvi jumps in, "Oh, you don't need to be a part of the drama club to sell. I kind of got recruited by the club advisor. " A smile and a shrug. "Anyway, can she come? We didn't get to talk much today."

"Well, okay, sure..." he says, then says "Dagmar, want me to leave your chocolate bar in your room or something or want to take it with you?"

"One for me?" She blinks.

"I-in my room is okay, thanks."

Sylvi's appreciation of Mr. Brown just jumped up a little bit more in that moment, then she's heading out the door, remembering to open the mundane door and not just walk through the shattered chimerical hole.

"Sure, why not for you" A shrug and he nods, "You two kids ahve fun"

"Yeah, okay..." A weak smile. "Seeya."

"Thanks! Bye, Mr. Brown." A happy wave from the front steps, and then she turns and the smile vanishes. "Does it feel just like a cut, or is there poison in there?"

She pulls her arm in, cradling it against her stomach with the uninjured one. "Ain't that bad."

"It's bad enough. Come on, let's get Mom or the Chieftain to fix that." She starts to head back to the Lodge by the way she knows best..

She pulls out her phone and is about to dial when she sees.... "Oh, right...I got a call before..."

And they make their way, selling these will have to wait.

"Wait...Symon texted..." A blink. "Aw, crap."

Dagmar follows, staying quiet - despite the darkening bruises, or the bleeding, her expression is stiffly neutral.

"Y-yeah? Symon?"

Sylvi reads the message: "Hey. Need help in a hurry. I'd owe you one. Can we talk? -S" She gives Dagmar a tense look. "Okay....okay..." Decisions....

"I'm okay."

They are part way to the lodge already.

But... mm

She hurriedly texts Symon back: can you get to the lodge?

"You're not okay."

"I mean, Dag, you're strong as hell and tough like crazy, but that with the blood and stuff? That's not okay."

(seen) A minute passes, then the (...) of contemplative typing. It's like time is crawling by before the long drawn out answer arrives.