Orange Rescue Costume
Dialogue
No suit, huh?
Checked your insurance?
Auditioning for Darwin Awards?
Lost your suit?
Brave or broke?
Forgot your gear?
Real daredevil, huh?
This suit isn't a fashion statement.
Name's Zara Ross. Once a top-tier rescue worker, now a glorified guinea pig.
Got stranded here during an inter-dimensional drill gone bad. Lucky me, right?
Bosses sent me here with a second-hand suit and a prayer. Corporate generosity at its finest.
They didn't even give us a uniform to wear under it.
The rest of my crew died the first week out here.
Guess there's something special about me that kept me going.
Now I'm stuck dealing with biological nightmares, mutations, and all of their leftover work.
But hey, at least the shareholders get their money's worth from my suffering. Silver linings!
Oh, just peachy. Mutating in bizarre ways thanks to this cheap suit.
It's thrilling, really. Wonder what'll grow next? Maybe wings? A third arm?
The other day, I found a tentacle sprouting from my back. Talk about a surprise!
Incompetent bosses, hazardous environment, and now I'm part cephalopod. Living the dream!
If this keeps up, maybe I'll land a role in some freak show.
Almost wonder if I would've been better off dying with the crew...
Ah, welcome to the best vacation spot around for anyone looking to mutate grotesquely.
Locals say it was lush and serene before. Now, it's more like 'Blob's Discount Body Horror Emporium.'
It used to be... less fleshy.
We've got pulsating blood puddles forming now. They're all the rage around here.
You should read the signs before walking into a biohazard zone next time.
If you survive long enough for there to be a next time...
I'm in need of a hero preferably one with a death wish.
Sure, you don't value your life much anyway.
You're already here, might as well make your last moments productive!
Absolutely!
Yep, got just the thing.
I'm good, just clocking more hours for the corporate overlords.
Appreciate it, but my suffering isn't meeting this quarter s KPIs.
No need, still plenty of me left to mutate.
As much as I'd love to delegate, I'm no manager.
Sorry, but my agony needs to stay on schedule.