The sequence of a life form braised in the sand

[crabulous]

Who| Zoidberg & Guy | Zoidberg & Sherlock
What| Zoidberg encounters his very best friend, Guy! Later, he is trapped/killed by Sherlock!
Where| The dinosaur exhibit first, then to the whale exhibit.
When| Week 6
Warnings/Notes| Death and hideousness!

Zoidberg was wandering the halls of the museum in an aimless fashion, jonesing for something to eat, anything at all. It had been days since his last decent meal and already he could feel one of his stomachs was beginning to break down and devour another. He felt weak, helpless, and all he could do now was scuttle about and wail mournfully into the heavens.

It was while on one of his pathetic walkabouts that he ventured into the dinosaur exhibit, passing the remains of the barricade in his quest for a meal. With all these bones just lying around, it seemed possible that there would be some manner of meat attached to them. Heartbeat escalating, he started to sniff around and investigate.

*/*

The whale exhibit seemed to be calling out to him, beckoning him into it's simulated watery depths. The taxidermied sea mammals were very alluring and all Zoidberg wanted to do was approach them and learn their secrets. He gave very little thought to whether of not he was alone. All he wished was to be one with the oceanic beings.

Comments

[costing]

Sherlock returns to the aquatic animal exhibit after his disastrous meeting with his other self because he has nowhere else to go. It’s a familiar place, already charted, and he doesn’t have to worry about coming up with defenses again once he’s there.

His hideout is behind the scale models of the sea turtles. It’s sitting there, a day into the new week, that he hears the chime of the elevator and receives Watson’s second gift. More food, which he sorely needs, and another note.

The first time he’d been skeptical; it has seemed like a mocking joke. Now, he can see her voice in the words, and decides to trust his instinct. The first note he crumpled into his pocket; the second he turns over and uses to pen a response.

If you are not as well as these notes attempt to convince me, we will have to significantly alter your curriculum once I see you again. I realize your preference is that I know more people, and they me, but I will admit that I am not inclined to take that advice at the moment. Forty-three percent of murders are perpetrated by those who know their victims. I wonder, then, if I do not come to know these people, will I be less likely to kill them? A thought to pursue further at another time, perhaps. –SH.

He’s so caught up in writing, and then laying the missive flat against the mounted plaques, that he doesn’t notice at first that someone else has entered the room. But once he does, he tenses and ducks further behind the exhibit. He keeps one eye on the wire he’d previously set up, ready to spring his trap if perceives a threat.

[crabulous]

Zoidberg was humming to himself, a pleasant Earthican tune that he recalled from his many adventures with Fry. The title, if he recalled it correctly, was Walking On Sunshine. He entered the display area with a spring in his scuttle, adding in 'ya-da-dee's' to the little ditty for emphasis.

He rambled about the room, eyes in a fixed and oblivious expression, coming to a stop only when he finds himself face to face with a massive, yet gentle seeming, elephant seal.

"Oh, hello!" His voice was lilting and merry in spite of the many troubles of the Arena. "Who let you in here?"

[costing]

Sherlock doesn't like to be surprised. And yet the arena has been one shock after another, from the circumstances to other combatants. When he leans over the edge of the exhibit to look at the newcomer, however, he gets the biggest shock of all.

The trolls' existence had been hard to swallow, but not impossible. But this... this is one of the sea animal exhibits come to grotesque life. Looking at Zoidberg, Sherlock starts wondering if he has gills or lungs, how he reproduces. It's a little disturbing, how quickly he runs through facts on crustaceans and others, trying to happen upon useful information.

"I might ask you the same question," he mutters, though it's not particularly quiet.

[crabulous]

The lobster looked around furiously, searching for the source of the voice. Was it coming from the elephant seal? No one could tell...

"I asked you first!" He called out, raising a claw up in a show of self-defense. He was too frightened to try being masculine. Instead, he aimed to seem small and pathetic, in hopes of garnering sympathy from the terrifying voice of the void.

[costing]

The claws are a threat, obviously, even if the one wielding them is revealing more and more incompetence. Sherlock maintains his hiding place, questions the sense of his very existence, and then shakes his head. This time, he doesn't bother muttering as he replies.

"I never actually asked." He does love his technicalities. He shifts a bit, getting a better angle on the whale's wiring. If this alien? monster? creature? gets any closer, he'll have to act.

[acroodawakening]

It was difficult not to notice a giant lobster person wandering around sniffing things, what with him being a horrifying monstrosity and all.

Guy, on the other hand, was possibly a little harder to find, tucked away among the fake plants around one of the skeletons.

He'd gotten a sponsor gift recently and it was good he had because it meant he didn't have to try to scavenge what little food was left. At the moment, he needed the rest.

"Hey," he called out weakly, when he saw Zoidberg through the leaves. "Psst. Zoidberg."

forgive me for slowness!!

[crabulous]

"Eh?!" He let out a gasp of alarm, peering through the artificial foliage for the source of the voice. Not seeing anyone on first glance, he assumed that it must have been the plants themselves speaking to him. "Is that you, Poison Ivy?"

But then, on closer inspection, he noticed Guy's familiar form and let out a jolly cry of approval. "Oh! It's you, my highly camouflaged friend! What are you doing in those bushes?"

[crabulous]

Zoidberg let out a soft whoop of fright, slowly approaching the seal that was clearly the source to all of this troublesome nonsense. Slowly, he reached out to it, as if he were going to slap it upside the head.

"And I never actually answered!" He cried out, in an attempt to be brave. "So there!"

[acroodawakening]

"Ah. Kinda just...not moving for a little bit."

His arm was bandaged with bloody bandages and so was his ear and really he just wasn't looking so good. Tired and pale, but stable.

"I just needed some rest. Thought I'd have a little lie down."

[costing]

Intrigued though he is, Sherlock can't risk getting close when the creature looks like he could snap him in two. So when Zoidberg comes forward, Sherlock reacts on instinct-- he snaps his trip wire, and holds his breath as the giant whale skeleton comes crashing down.

[crabulous]

He sniffed with his nonexistent nose, eyes narrowing with heightened curiosity. "Your front hoof is injured! What in the name of the Space Pope is going on?!"

[crabulous]

The noise that Zoidberg emitted was a terrible one, loud and shrill and scary. Even worse than that sound, however, was the horrific splat which accompanied it. Despite his tough outer shell, the lobster man was squished cleanly beneath the whale, crushed and with catastrophic injuries.

"Help! Help, friend! I'm dying!"

[costing]

The sound startles Sherlock, a bit. Not because he wasn't expecting it, but because he wasn't expecting to feel remorse for it. Now he comes out from behind his low barricade, fixes Zoidberg with a cold stare.

"Are you an obstacle?" he asks. Rather than a Tribute, he thinks. He'd been warned about being goaded into action by the Gamemakers.

[crabulous]

"No!" The voice cried out, muffled by the mass of the whale, and clearly scared. "I'm a Decapodian!" Obviously that would clear up the misconceptions about him posing some sort of threat, right?

[costing]

"You don't have ten limbs." Clearly that's the important take away, here.

But at the same time, there's a sinking feeling in Sherlock's gut. That's he hurt someone who didn't deserve it-- and that this place seeded enough paranoia in him to cause it.

[crabulous]

"Oh no!" Zoidberg cried out, "What happened to my other limbs?"

Of course, he didn't have any missing limbs, but being crushed beneath the whale was making him confused. Likely, he was well on his way toward a sad and tragic death.

[costing]

"Shift towards the center," Sherlock says. It's brusque advice, but good all the same. At the center of the whale's ribs, the pressure will lift.

He isn't going to reply to the other's exclamation. It's too ridiculous, at the moment.

[acroodawakening]

"There were these weapons, that - they sounded like thunder. Guns."

He was sure he'd heard the name somewhere, maybe said by Hawkeye when he talked about war.

"I was hit by one. It's okay now, there was a doctor there and he didn't really mean to hurt me. So he bandaged it and the bleeding stopped. I'm still...I'm just tired now."

Then he turned the attention away from himself.

"How are you holding up?"

[crabulous]

The man attempted to move, but found he could not. His only possible reaction was the mangled sob which escaped his jumbled mouth flap. "I can't move! I think I might die here!"

Indeed, he was expending an awful lot of energy in his sorrowful screams.

[crabulous]

This was all very worrisome for Zoidberg, but instead of interfering, he managed a somber nod. "When will the gun violence end? It's a tragedy, I tell you!"

Gingerly, he knelt to inspect the dressing and found it to be satisfactory. "Who me? Please! I'm right as rain. Although..." His voice trailed off, stomach growling. "I am a little hungry...'

[acroodawakening]

It was thoughtless, the way his hand went to his bag and it even had started moving the moment Zoidberg's stomach rumbled, before he even spoke.

"Here," he said, holding out a can of some meat-like substance from his sponsor gift. "I'm not really hungry right now. I've been eating pretty well so far."

He was injured. Being injured made it harder to survive and he didn't expect he'd be needing to eat as much soon because he'd probably be dead. He might as well give it to someone else that needed it.

[crabulous]

Without hesitation, he seized upon the can, tearing it open and slurping away at the contents with very little regard for anything else at all. "OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM!!!"

[acroodawakening]

"Eeeeungh."

Yeah, that was just not the most pleasant looking, but at least the food wasn't going to waste.

[crabulous]

When he was finished, Zoidberg let out a bellowing belch and patted his belly with his claws. "That was delicious! Do you have any more?"

[acroodawakening]

"I have to save it," he said. "I have other friends that might need it."

Not to mention he needed some for himself but he didn't plan on eating much when he was fairly sure he wasn't going to make it.

"If I get more from the sponsors, though, I'll try to find you to give you some."

[crabulous]

"How kind you are!" Zoidberg said, gurgling gently. "You're such a good friend, looking out for others and whatnot. One might even say that you've saved my shell!"

He leaned in closer to Guy in a manner that might almost be threatening if it weren't so comical. "But how can I ever repay you, my friend? Zoidberg has nothing to offer, save the clothes on his back and an extensive knowledge of medicine and also the future."

[acroodawakening]

If there was anywhere farther back for Guy's head to go than the ground, it would have gone there, but he appreciated Zoidberg's enthusiasm for what it was, terrifying appearance aside.

"You could stay here with me for a while while I rest," Guy said slowly. "And scream if something dangerous comes or wake me up if you need to leave. I'm so tired..."

[crabulous]

"It would be an honor, my friend!" Zoidberg settled down beside Guy, patting his oversized thigh to indicate that the man was welcome to rest his head there. "I can better serve the community by acting as your guardian during this difficult period of necessary stasis. Please, rest your weary bones and let Zoidberg ease your troubled mind. I could even sing you a lullaby, maybe?"

[acroodawakening]

Okay, so maybe his shelled thigh wasn't exactly squishy but resting his head on Zoidberg's thigh was better than nothing. Besides, it wasn't much different than sleeping with his head on a rock or Eep's rockhard abs. And he'd smelled far worse things in a long life of wandering the wilderness and finding things like leftover animal carcasses.

"No songs," he sighed out quietly. "When I try to sleep, I like to imagine my mom singing songs."

He wouldn't stay awake long enough to hear them anyway, it seemed. He was already drifting off.

[crabulous]

"Oh." Zoidberg was a little disappointed that Guy didn't want to hear his lovely vocal stylings, but he took it well in stride. He had never known his own mother, as his parents had both died following the mating process (as is typical of his species), but he had a very surly and meddlesome aunt who had tended to him as a child. He thought of his curmudgeonly Aunt Sadie and a content little smile tugged at his dangly face flaps. For the first time in a long time, Zoidberg felt genuinely happy.