Jack is a smart salvager, when it comes to weird gravity and floating cars and, well, floating bodies. He has a length of rope tied to one ankle, the other end in the hand of a friend, or possibly tied to his van if no one is around to help out. He has more rope tied to his wrist that he can loop around whatever he's climbing on, so if gravity reasserts itself or something breaks, he has a safety.
And so, safely tethered, he scrambles up onto the bits of salvage to dig around, looking for anything useful, whether it's useful for him or for anyone else. "Here, do you think anyone might be able to use this?" he calls down to his partner, or anyone passing underneath, holding up a slightly-bent blade. "I'm not sure if the balance will still work at this angle...."
II. Creepy Hospitals are a No
Jack makes one foray inside the upside-down hospital, during which he spends a good hour shackled down and maybe hyperventilating a bit as the manacles try to drag him towards what is very clearly a cage until someone gets in to set him free (feel free to be that person, friends). Cages are one of the things he does truly fear.
After that he pointedly sits outside. "I will watch everyone's cars," he says to anyone asking. "And set traps so I can make everyone some dinner tomorrow." And, if pressed, he adds, "I am not very good in dark underground places." Which is only true when those dark underground places come with shackles and cages, but it counts for this dark underground place, dammit.
Though he will ask anyone going in, "See if you can't bring out some of those manacles and chains, though? That might be useful."
III. What Dreams
When they're out in the open, parked under skies full of floating rocks and cars and monsters, Jack's dreams are full of open, natural spaces and freedom. He runs on all fours, furry and tongue-lolling. He's a true wolf full of the joy of running with the pack and scenting on the wind, not a wolfman full of rage and hunger.
He does still have six tails, though, and a hint of phantom fire around his amber eyes, and his blue-gray fur is streaked with white just like his hair, marking him as clearly Jack. He might chase you, but it will be to pounce and lick your face, tails wagging excitedly.
When they're parked by the hospital, Jack's dreams are full of cages and locks and deep echoing howls. He's chained to a wall, he's locked behind a heavy door, he's curled in a corner of a jail cell. There's a sense of time, of claustophobia, of finality. He is never getting out. He knows he's never getting out.
Maybe a kind soul wandering into his dream will change that particular story.
IV. Brain Swarm
Jack has been only minimally affected by the sage plants and swarm traits, feeling more of a pull towards pack than hive and only a light empathic awareness, but he's moved through a lot of dreams and made a lot of connections, so he's a solid mental anchor for anyone who needs it. He doesn't do much to the intellect devourers themselves, maybe a kick now and then to get them away from an overwhelmed Driver, but what he does do is run fearlessly up to anyone who seems confused, upset, or under fire from the monsters, grabbing their hand or shoulder, providing something real.
"It's okay," he says, gripping firmly, until and unless the Drifter tries to shake him off. "You're okay. I've got you."
V. Post-Swarm Care
"I am very glad I have been catching a lot of wildlife out here," Jack comments, mostly to himself, as he moves from car to car carrying a pot of stew in both hands and a satchel full of bowls in another. "I was able to make a full pot. Here," he tells anyone who has been dealing with hallucinations, psychic trauma, and brain-monsters, setting his pot down and dishing out a bowl full of still-hot stew. "Have some of this. It will help."
Jack Russell | Werewolf by Night | Yokai
Jack is a smart salvager, when it comes to weird gravity and floating cars and, well, floating bodies. He has a length of rope tied to one ankle, the other end in the hand of a friend, or possibly tied to his van if no one is around to help out. He has more rope tied to his wrist that he can loop around whatever he's climbing on, so if gravity reasserts itself or something breaks, he has a safety.
And so, safely tethered, he scrambles up onto the bits of salvage to dig around, looking for anything useful, whether it's useful for him or for anyone else. "Here, do you think anyone might be able to use this?" he calls down to his partner, or anyone passing underneath, holding up a slightly-bent blade. "I'm not sure if the balance will still work at this angle...."
II. Creepy Hospitals are a No
Jack makes one foray inside the upside-down hospital, during which he spends a good hour shackled down and maybe hyperventilating a bit as the manacles try to drag him towards what is very clearly a cage until someone gets in to set him free (feel free to be that person, friends). Cages are one of the things he does truly fear.
After that he pointedly sits outside. "I will watch everyone's cars," he says to anyone asking. "And set traps so I can make everyone some dinner tomorrow." And, if pressed, he adds, "I am not very good in dark underground places." Which is only true when those dark underground places come with shackles and cages, but it counts for this dark underground place, dammit.
Though he will ask anyone going in, "See if you can't bring out some of those manacles and chains, though? That might be useful."
III. What Dreams
When they're out in the open, parked under skies full of floating rocks and cars and monsters, Jack's dreams are full of open, natural spaces and freedom. He runs on all fours, furry and tongue-lolling. He's a true wolf full of the joy of running with the pack and scenting on the wind, not a wolfman full of rage and hunger.
He does still have six tails, though, and a hint of phantom fire around his amber eyes, and his blue-gray fur is streaked with white just like his hair, marking him as clearly Jack. He might chase you, but it will be to pounce and lick your face, tails wagging excitedly.
When they're parked by the hospital, Jack's dreams are full of cages and locks and deep echoing howls. He's chained to a wall, he's locked behind a heavy door, he's curled in a corner of a jail cell. There's a sense of time, of claustophobia, of finality. He is never getting out. He knows he's never getting out.
Maybe a kind soul wandering into his dream will change that particular story.
IV. Brain Swarm
Jack has been only minimally affected by the sage plants and swarm traits, feeling more of a pull towards pack than hive and only a light empathic awareness, but he's moved through a lot of dreams and made a lot of connections, so he's a solid mental anchor for anyone who needs it. He doesn't do much to the intellect devourers themselves, maybe a kick now and then to get them away from an overwhelmed Driver, but what he does do is run fearlessly up to anyone who seems confused, upset, or under fire from the monsters, grabbing their hand or shoulder, providing something real.
"It's okay," he says, gripping firmly, until and unless the Drifter tries to shake him off. "You're okay. I've got you."
V. Post-Swarm Care
"I am very glad I have been catching a lot of wildlife out here," Jack comments, mostly to himself, as he moves from car to car carrying a pot of stew in both hands and a satchel full of bowls in another. "I was able to make a full pot. Here," he tells anyone who has been dealing with hallucinations, psychic trauma, and brain-monsters, setting his pot down and dishing out a bowl full of still-hot stew. "Have some of this. It will help."