Seventh Floor
Christ, she couldn't believe some people. Clicking out of WebMD, Joanie leaned back in her chair, resting a hand over her mouth. Was it cruel that she had gotten Faith worked up over herpes? Honestly, it had been a joke. It was, after all, funny to suggest that people had venereal diseases when they were clearly candidates for them. But had she meant it? Not really. The fact that Faith was blowing this whole thing out of proportion was her fault, not Joanie's. She couldn't be held responsible for the rantings of a drama queen.
Scooting away from her laptop, she rested a hand on Zeph's head, scratching his ears as he purred. She glanced to the window, watching the strips of moonlight crawl across her carpet. Her calendar had pegged this night as "the night," but so far she was unconvinced. It had been just a normal day, after all. There was work, then relaxing, then magic, then dropping off the supplies, then sitting on the forum while Law and Order played in the background. As she stood to walk towards the television, she realized something: her skin was very itchy.
She slumped onto the couch with Zeph in her lap, clawing at the back of her neck with her free hand. It had been itching for a few minutes now, but it was getting worse. Wrinkling her nose, she scratched more furiously, so irritated that she couldn't really hear Zeph's soft growls of discomfort. Pushing him off her lap, raking her fingers across her chest and sides, she strode to the bathroom, turning on the light and staring in the mirror. Something about her skin looked wrong. She wasn't sure what it was, but she looked more sallow than usual.
With shaky fingers, she gripped the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head, casting it to the ground and staring at herself in the mirror. Her torso was wrapped in green ribbons that slid beneath her black bra, slicing through her pale skin. Eyes widening, she watched as the patches seemed to expand, magnifying the itchiness as they went.
She immediately turned on the shower and jumped inside, not caring that it was frigid. With the help of exfoliating soap and a loofah, Joanie had finally sated her itch. She stepped out of the shower dripping and naked, staring down at herself. Just like the last month, she was bright green. Though she was prepared for this, the sight still made her stomach lurch.
After putting on a black T-shirt and equally black sweatpants, she tied her wet hair up in a messy bun and strode to the door. Just as she was about to leave her apartment, a soft hooting caught her attention. Tensing, she turned, seeing a small winged monkey sitting on her couch.
She screamed. The monkey howled. When they quieted, both stared at one another for a long moment before the monkey leapt into the air, fluttering towards her and crashing at her feet. Joanie gasped, scooting backwards until her back hit the door. "St-stay away from me!" she squeaked, holding up her hands. "I mean it, go away!"
The monkey stared at her, clearly puzzled, before dropping onto all fours and rubbing against her ankle. She bit her lower lip, closing her eyes. "Zeph," she whispered, almost afraid to say his name. "Is that you?" Looking down, she saw the monkey sit back on its hind legs, looking up at her curiously. She whined. "Oh, fuck, this isn't happening."
She stooped to pick the little creature up, holding him in her arms. "This is...this is unreal." The monkey reached out to grip at her shoulder, crawling out of her arms and perching on her shoulder. With one hand balanced against the back of her head, he began to settle, making small cooing noises of approval. After a moment's pause, she sighed, opening the door of her apartment. She hoped that Russell didn't mind monkeys - there was no way that she was leaving this little ball of mischief in her apartment alone now.
After locking her apartment behind her, Joanie made the short trip to #705. She stopped before the door, glancing to Zeph briefly before holding up a hand and knocking heavily on the door. Hopefully Russell was still around.