route666rp | Do not keep silence. [Closed]

Do not keep silence. [Closed]

Who: Faith and Jack
What: Somebody just woke up from a hell of a wild night. And by night I mean "weeks" and by wild I mean "She was a fox"
When: Early November
Where: Vincent's safehouse
Warnings: Just Faith being Faith, will update for anything worse than that.

Faith remembers entering the fortune teller's tent. She remembers visions of red deserts and mage robes. She remembers a darkening library and a wet slicing sound. She remembers silver words about a "trapped god"

She remembers very little after that, not even how long it's been. Suddenly, she's on the floor of Vincent's safe-house, watching white fur shrink away into her skin and blinking in confusion at the floor. Her hand instinctively goes to her neck. The scar is still there, her usual scarf gone. In fact, all her clothing is gone- lost, it seems, in the transformation. She's not exactly embarrassed about it, but it is pretty annoying.

Fortunately, there's not many people around. Just her and one other person. She stays low to the ground in a crouch, more for his benefit than for hers- she's not trying to make this any more awkward for him than it already is.

"...Hey, uh, don't suppose you got a coat or somethin'"

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Jack has been keeping an eye on Faith. Keeping her herded back to the space he'd been staying in with Serph, Heat, John, and Vincent had been tricky sometimes. It helped that he could turn into a fox with her, now, but not as much as it could have.

He's glad he managed to coax her back tonight, at least, even if it was mostly luck that it'd be tonight she changed back. He'd been sitting beside her and grooming her ears when the change started and wow, had that been awkward, scrambling away from a now-human Faith.

"Er. I have mine?" he offers, swiftly and easily changing back to his own human form so he can shrug the jacket off. It's not a long one, but it'll give her something.

He, it seems, transforms with his clothes.

Well, she's not really much shorter than him, so that's not gonna cover much, but she improvises, wrapping it around her torso and tying the sleeves to keep it up instead of putting it on properly. It at least covers the most important areas.

As she's adjusting her makeshift clothing, her expression darkens. She has no idea where she is, she doesn't remember what happened, she has no sense of time. She's seen this movie before.

"How long was I, uh..."

She swallows, not finishing the sentence.

Jack takes in the makeshift skirt, then sets about taking his shirt off, too, so she's covered on top too, offering it. It might not button fully if she tries: she's bustier than him by a lot, after all, and he is not a big man to start with. But it can still kind of cover the important bits. And it's more okay for a man to be topless than a woman, in societies that Faith would be familiar with.

Besides, he has a tank top undershirt, too. He's fine.

"A few weeks," Jack says apologetically. "I've been keeping an eye on you, once we got you away from the circus. I don't think you got into too much trouble."

A few weeks. He's had to babysit her ass for weeks while she was being a useless fox. Great. Just one more check in the owed column, she supposes. Speaking of favors owed... hey, more material is more material, she's not gonna say no.

She shifts the jacket down, puts the shirt on, buttons it... as much as she can, given the complications. It's not a perfect outfit, but it'll do.

"Circus. Right. Catch me up here, that still goin' on? Do we need to be knocking heads right now? 'Cuz I could go for some head-knocking."

Well. Except for one thing.

"...and do you still have that stash of clothes, 'cuz this..." she gestures to the very improvised outfit, "Is appreciated and all but it ain't exactly practical."

Not that she wasn't fully prepared to murder some monsters in the nude, she's done it before, but it sounds messy. Also she needs weapons. Actually, her jeep got transformed along with the rest of the convoy, so she has no idea where her stuff even is. Damn.

"I don't even have a van right now, so, no," Jack says with a sigh. "I have a stash of fabric that I could make into something with a little work, though."

Which is to say: "The circus is still a thing, and our convoy has been... been taken over by it. Or turned into it. Or both. We are living a bit rough right now. Though there are some ideas for how to turn it back, to at least try."

He motions for her to follow him across the space, to where he's been trying to stash things above the ground and out of the way, and is only sometimes successful.

"Fab. Day just keeps getting better and better."

Still, she'll follow him to his stash to see if she can find anything useful. Whatever she can get hold of, she'll live with it. She just had to get into something practical enough to go help take down that stupid carnival.

"What ideas? Some sorta ritual, a convenient load-bearing monster, something like that?"

"I think it mostly amounts to sneaking in and attacking them," Jack says, apologetically, as he sifts through his collection of costume bits and torn banners. He does come up with some clown pants that will fit her, which he offers to her. They're not pretty, but they should at least be comfortable?

"I'm afraid I haven't managed to steal any shoes," he adds, even more apologetically. "Though I can make you some socks if you give me a little bit."

"Sneaking in and attacking them is still a whole step more complicated than I would have gone with. And I can make anything look good, Jack, thought you figured that out by now."

She smirks a little at her own joke, then takes the ugly pants and examines them. Well, they're not getting any less stupid-looking from her staring at them. She slips the pants on, looking absolutely ridiculous in them, but screw it, they'll stay on.

Well, once she cinches the ridiculous drawstring a little tighter, anyway.

It's still an improvement over the tied jacket, which is removed only once the pants are in place for modesty- you're welcome, Jack- and returned to him.

"Thanks, big guy."

For that and many other things.

He folds it over his arm, giving her a brief once-over. "If I had any actual needles and thread I'd tailor that up for you, but you'd have to be naked again while I did anyway. And if I had needle and thread I'd probably have actual clothing to offer." He huffs a sigh, his professional senses a little offended had having to provide something so silly.

Still, he unbends a little to smile at her thanks. "It was nothing. No problem. You did the same for me, during the moon warp, right?" And he was a lot more mean, dangerous, and stupid as a werewolf than she was as a fox!

She looks like she wants to argue about that, but can't think of a good rebuttal. Shifting a little uncomfortably, she finally relents.

"Yeah, I guess."

With a slight, teasing smile, she adds,

"Don't worry, I won't tell anybody you gave me these, Wouldn't wanna ruin your rep."

"Thank you. I would hate for people to think I'm making people clown pants," he sniffs, mostly joking. He shakes his head. "Come, come. Let me get you something to eat. That, I have better offerings for. There's a fire outside and I have some meat and vegetables roasting next to it. There are a few of us who come and go from this space."

"Ain't gonna say no to that."

Also she did feel oddly hungry. Which might just be because she hadn't absorbed any life force for a few weeks, but hey, Jack was a good cook and solid food would take the edge off.

"Gonna suck when we're too far to keep it up, this place is almost gettin' nice."

"It would be much nicer to have the convoy back," Jack says. "I have lived out in the open more than once in my life, but that does not mean I do not miss plumbing and clean clothes."

He crouches next to the fire, poking at the lump resting right up against its ashes with a wire, which turns out to be the bundle of sugar-glazed monster meat and tubers that was promised, folded in metal thin enough to almost be like tin foil. "This should be ready to eat. Here. Careful, don't burn your hands, give it a minute to cool off." He hooks the bundle out with his wire, dragging it over to Faith's feet.

And she's gonna ignore that and grab it while it's still hot. She does, at least, restrain the discomfort of the burn to just a hiss, but she's already tearing apart the metal and picking at the contents. Ow, but also yum. Or maybe she's just that hungry. Hard to say.

"Compliments to the chef. You're a lifesaver as always, Jack."

She's not even as unsettled about the nature of the meat as she normally would be.

Jack tsks at her, but doesn't try to take it away. He, at least, has no desire to get burned, no matter how hungry he is.

He comes to sit beside her while she eats, and if that's half to make sure the burns aren't too bad, well, so what. "How much do you remember of the past couple weeks?"

The good news is, if the burns are bothering her, she's doing a hell of a job not letting on.

"Don't remember much."

She's barely slowing down to talk, apparently she really needed food. She's at least mostly not talking with her mouth full.

"I remember I got free, but the guys at the carnival caught me again. They put me in this cage, and I saw-"

She stops eating, and her face gets distant.

"It was like... a desert. And a bunch of people, in these wack cult outfits and there was... red... and then words..."

She rubs at her face, blinks, and forces a smile.

"Guess I must'a hit my head or somethin', right? We're nowhere near the desert, for one thing."

"That does not mean it wasn't real," Jack muses. "Or useful. People in this convoy have had visions of other places before. Usually of places and people that tell us about this world's past."

Sure, maybe it was an illusion or a trick, but Jack is not going to discount it, either.

"I have not really had any," he allows. For being a werewolf, and now a kitsune, he is very prosaic in that way. "But Serph and John have. And others in the convoy have talked about them on the radio."

"We have a duty to free our trapped god, after they sacrificed so much for us. We will not be ungrateful children."

She intones it flatly, staring into her half-eaten food without really seeing it. Apparently, she remembers the vision a lot better than she was letting on.

She looks back up at him and cracks a grin, a little bit forced.

"Or somethin' like that. Sounded wicked unhinged to me, but I was never a Riddler gal."

Jack is unfamiliar with the comic book character, but the name is pretty self-explanatory. "Me neither. Especially since usually the riddles are in English, and sometimes I don't know the right words for them."

He shakes his head. "Eat. Do not let the vision keep you from eating. It happened a long time ago, whatever it was."

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Do not keep silence. [Closed]

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In my defense, this time I was in Montreal for a week so I only got one round of tags in

haha no worries at all, vacations are important!

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