[closed]

[bufudine]

Who: Heat, Jack Russell, John Doe and Serph
What: Serph takes an old comrade to meet new comrades, not knowing they've already met, for better or worse
When: The night of Heat's arrival
Where: The Convoy, in the large bedroom closest to the washrooms
Warnings: Violence, as usual :') Somehow not as bad as what is canon-typical (on all fronts)

Of all the people to arrive in this strange new world, Serph somehow hadn't expected to encounter anyone he'd personally known; he was dead after all. His responsibilities to the Embryon had been passed on to the rest of the Tribe. They had to live. If they didn't, who would keep Sera safe? Who would remember the Junkyard and all its inhabitants?

But it isn't like everyone else from other worlds are dead. (Well, aside from Jayce? Sort of? He's still not really sure about that one. People don't usually un-die.)

So when Heat shows up lacking any knowledge of having left the Junkyard, Serph feels like he's been blindsided by the strongest Megidolaon spell in existence. All the things that he'd thought he'd accepted come roaring back with a vengeance and he finds himself even more off-balance than ever. Heat is still loyal to him, but outside of battle he feels strangely out of step with his comrade. Had he changed so much in 5 months?

He squashes his feelings down -- like he always does -- and takes the only action that makes sense to him; to have old comrades meet the new.

Usually the faint scent of blood -- sensitive enough for a werewolf to smell -- clings to Serph whenever he returns to the bedroom he shares with Jack and John, but this time it's much stronger from all the monsters both Heat and Serph had gorged themselves on. In a way, it feels good to openly devour, to eat until even Varuna's nigh insatiable urges quell into a quiet rumble. But afterwards he can't help but think about how this sort of existence can't coexist with the Nirvana he dreams of; if Nirvana is a place of peace, a place where there are no enemies and he can live with his comrades, then the only people to devour are his friends.

Then it would no longer be Nirvana.

But the search continues.

Heat's cloak -- grey with a distinctively orange cross marking it -- drapes over his front and right shoulder as Serph enters the shared room, stepping aside to let Heat in after him.

Comments

[iron_stomach]

Though it hadn't been a terrible day by Heat's standards, it could have gone better. He didn't, wouldn't voice his doubts and concerns, many of which directly involve Serph and his altered appearance and caginess when talking about these 'new comrades'.

The more things change the more they start the same. This isn't Nirvana but it's a lot closer to what the fractured pictures in his head suggested should be, and the rest is recognized too, from atma brands to demons in need of falling into line or being devoured. At least he's taken the time to clean up a little, even he doesn't enter sleeping spaces filthy if he could help it, the only addition he's picked up along the way being a set of gloves (now fingerless) from the depths of the hospital, very nearly the appropriate shade of orange.

Any sign of injury unhealed is completely hidden as soon as the door opens. He wasn't so trusting of new comrades and showing weakness immediately was an absolutely horrid idea. But to sharp senses the scent lingers, not just the residue of delicious hunt but at least one prey fighting back harder than expected; some of the blood smell is his own. On a glance, Heat is perfectly hale and whole, confident to the point of arrogance.

"Alright, let's see these comrades of yours."

[wereperrito]

Jack is the only one in the room, right now, grooming a tangle out of one of his fluffy fox tails, tie already undone and shoes set aside. He looks up when the door opens, ears perked, and he blinks at the unexpected face, then smiles a bit wryly. "So you two do know each other?" he guesses, pleased that he'd made the right connection. The smell of blood doesn't disturb him, he's used to it on Serph by now, and he might pick out the one coming from Heat in particular eventually, but not from first whiff. "Hello again."

[bufudine]

Ah. They've already met? It's not often that he's the one to do introductions -- most introductions in the Junkyard were made with gunfire, magic, or melee weapons of all kinds -- but at least he has Argilla's as an example to draw from.

Serph nods. "This is Heat, one of my officers."

He holds Jack's gaze for a moment longer than usual. Jack normally has a pretty good read on people, surely he doesn't need to speak for Jack to know not to say anything about what he'd shared with him about Heat? Heat would likely pick up on the silent signal -- he often didn't need to speak for his old comrades to know his intent -- but... well. Heat is already cross with him. He'll need to explain to Jack afterwards.

Breaking eye contact, Serph turns to Heat. "This is Jack. He made these clothes after I broke my armour."

Serph's wings ruffle before he tucks them back behind him, as if to illustrate the point that the usual Junkyard armour isn't made for the kinds of monstrous changes of this world.

oh yeah since unicorn, red jeep got swapped for red rv. e.e rest remains the same.

[iron_stomach]

It's that little fox guy.

This revelation doesn't come with immediate aggressive response on Heat's part, so that's probably a good sign. Or as much of a good sign as Heat ever has. But it does mean the scrutiny turned on Jack is far sharper this time than when they'd met not long after his arrival. This time it's not just weighing Jack versus what he knows and expects from people, it's weighing whether or not Jack can be trusted around the Embryon's leader so closely that Serph already considered the kitsune comrades.

So closely that Serph's given Jack a warning. He knows that look, he's seen it countless times across his life. There's subtext he's missing already, again, and it doesn't sit comfortably.

There shouldn't be secrets between comrades, he's pretty sure of that.

"Yeah. We do." Jack's made new weird clothes, fine, but why was it the wrong color. "Make his stuff with orange on it next time." It's an important color. Every OTHER color could still be there but that one ... was expected to be most prominent. Even if it came with penguins.

Which left that silent signal, and everything NOT being said. "You could have just said you found another information guy and quartermaster," is what he actually says about it, frowning. Jack knew stuff, fine. He could accept that. Jack knew how to make stuff, also fine. Those were useful things. "What's with all the cagey bullshit, Serph?"

[wereperrito]

Jack looks amused rather than offended. Information guy and quartermaster. That's one way to put it, he supposes. Did Serph sleep with (non-sexually) and kiss (kinda maybe sexually) his former information guy and quartermaster?

"I'm sure I can manage that," he says. "I didn't realize the color was important. Serph, don't you still have that bit of your old clothes in your car? I could work that into something for you, easily. Or I could rework that cloak into any number of things." That's nicer material than the other oranges or near-oranges he has available.

[bufudine]

Serph doesn't immediately answer Heat's question. On the one hand, it seems that Heat has had at least a... non-violent introduction to Jack. Which is good. A relief even. He knows what Heat is like. He already had to separate Heat and Jayce, who were eating each other. He hopes he doesn't have to do any more of that before the night is over.

Nodding at Jack's offer, Serph says, "Use the one in my vehicle." He lifts his right arm so the orange cross is briefly more visible. "I'll return this to where it belongs."

With Heat.

Turning to said red-head, Serph replies, "Jack is a non-combatant." In some ways, he's a lot like Sera. In other ways, completely different. Sera held power over them, but she didn't need to be contained like an out of control demon. But that's a conversation for later, when Heat has adjusted to the routine of the Convoy. "He doesn't come from a place like the Junkyard."

[iron_stomach]

"Of course it's important, it's the tribe's colors." This is really something Serph should have explained already, and it's disturbing that he didn't, in a way Heat doesn't even try to articulate. Eloquence eludes him at all times, but he can get the point across in other ways. This matter of 'non-combatant' was irrelevant, and he really doubted anyone didn't come from places like the Junkyard. People came from SOMEWHERE, and this isn't Nirvana, so.... "It's how I know not to kill your ass. Orange, you live. Some other color, you get eaten."

Nothing in his tone or stance suggests he's intending to do that right now, at least, it might just be an explanation and not an active threat, but with Heat it could go either way. A thumb is jerked towards Serph. "And he's our leader. Dunno why he's running around without it, when it's the best way to find comrades at a distance." Find the familiar color, beeline for it.

Explains the gloves he picked up. Can't be without orange somewhere, and it didn't really matter if he got his cloak back or not even if it felt ... strange to be without it. "And anyway, that's not a good reason to be leaving things out, Serph. This guy's no Sera, but at least he can do something."

[wereperrito]

"I'm glad I am not considered entirely useless," Jack says, amused. "Maybe I'll make myself an orange tie." He doesn't want to wind up fighting anyone on accident, after all.

He shakes his head a bit. "Serph is right, though, most of the people here, including me, do not come from the same place you do. Most people do not have demons, and the sun is not broken, and everyone knows what emotions are. We do not run in tribes, or at least we do not call the units we make up tribes and do not have representative colors. Serph has been learning to adapt, that's all."

[bufudine]

Heat doesn't need to know he's had very Sera-like feelings towards Jack...

Serph knows Jack's explanation won't entirely satisfy Heat; he would have kept the Tribe's colours anyway, a declaration of who he was and a beacon for allies he expects to find. And he would have, if he hadn't felt like he had given the Tribe to those who remained. The Embryon couldn't have two leaders.

Except it seems that it will need to be that way after all.

"A lot happened in the time since I last saw you." Five months... and more. In their short lives, five months is an age. Subdued, he adds, "It didn't feel right to have the Embryon without you there."

weeks later, approaching the bone room

[thetatters]

It's been a month of heavy tension in the room. Every time they're given a silence to fill, John and Heat trade lingering stares. For all that he'd been so excited at every gift of a new cloak, John has insisted on keeping the one that Heat shredded. Despite all Jack's efforts, the hem is still stained with flecks of oily iridescence.

The landscape has not helped. It's become clear that John is tense around the water; he flinches from every splash and makes no attempt to bring his vehicle further than the shore. It's only through grudging loyalty that he follows Serph's salvage party out across the crumbling bridges to the ruined power plant.

"I should be keeping watch," he complains, transparently tight and nervous, fretting at nothing with his hands. This passageway began as a metal hallway with shallow puddles down the center, easily sidestepped. Now John has to press his back to the wall and shuffle along to keep from getting his feet wet. "It's clearly too flooded here for us to continue."

[iron_stomach]

Heat is incapable of subtlety and his tolerance of John and John's obvious ongoing manipulation of Serph tends to hang by a thread means that the man stalking off to put distance between them before he does something other people will regret isn't uncommon. But here that's not possible.

He's not about to leave his Leader alone through territory that John would have the advantage in should he inevitably stop playing games and finally go for the kill. Part of his attention's on the surroundings, but the rest of it is on the obnoxiously yellow-cloaked man. Cowards are intolerable, and this is just ridiculous. Every twitch, every flinch is watched with thin-lipped annoyance but he doesn't actually say anything until now.

Until even puddles are avoided like a squeamish cat. He doesn't bother to hide his disgust. "Give it a rest already. You're going to keep pretending water is a problem when you're a fucking aquatic demon? Quit whining and do something useful, you spineless bastard."

[bufudine]

Serph has made sure to be between Heat and John as much as possible, even if Heat dislikes the idea not being between Serph and John in case the latter decided to attack him. Even though they've finally stopped being at each other's throats, they're far from being civil with each other, much less close enough to be comrades.

He's not exactly sure how to resolve the situation when it's clear Heat doesn't believe him or Jack about the nature of this world. At the moment things are merely an uneasy truce and things will remain that way until Heat can be convinced John isn't someone who would betray him.

(Heat doesn't need to know John already tried to kill him; that would simply escalate the situation...)

He sends a look in Heat's direction that says, Enough.

He's also observed John's increasing twitchiness around water, which he doesn't quite understand. All he can think of is their conversation in the beach of his mind, of how John was once something else, but didn't want to be like that anymore.

"John. You're still yourself, regardless of shape. It's your choices that matter, not your form."

[thetatters]

John looks openly offended, and mutters Aquatic? beneath his breath like it was an insult. But Serph's soft and steady voice always works to deflate him: he drops his fretting hands with a sigh, and shoots only a token glare in Heat's direction.

"Very well," he says, trying to sound grudging and regal. It's undercut by the too-careful steps he takes towards the water, still balking at the threshold of the flooded hall. "Then I suppose... Uh... We'll have to wade the rest of the way."

He hesitates there at the edge of the first deep, rusty puddle.

[heat advisory is in effect for your area]

[iron_stomach]

Time will either settle things or won't; John may be eventually proven to not be a danger, maybe even a boon to have around - but not yet. The yellow is a constant grinding irritation as much as John himself is, and as Serph shoots him a look, Heat glances away with an annoyed growl.

He's behaving. Look. See him behaving? It's just words, words never hurt anyone.

Well that was the plan anyway, even with John pretending to be afraid of water for some reason. It didn't matter, he's seen what the man becomes. It would be no different if Heat tried to fake being afraid of fire. He watches the yellow-shrouded man with narrowed eyes, but says nothing else; Serph can try to coax him into doing something.

Heat has some good traits, he really does. His self control and ability to resist temptation is not among those virtues, and as John stops at the edge of the water with mincing delicacy, all of that self control is mightily put to the test. It's a struggle that lasts a whole of maybe two seconds before he fails.

It only takes one smooth step to edge around Serph and close the gap between them, reach out one orange-gloved hand, and give John a little help continuing on their way. Hard.

[bufudine]

Really. What is Heat, twelve?

(...? But he knows Heat has been alive for as long as he has.)

Truly, if Serph frowns any deeper at Heat, he'll start becoming like Gale. While he doesn't verbally say anything, there's definitely a veneer of why did you even do that in his expression.

But he also doesn't dive after John, knowing that John should be okay, instead waiting for when he resurfaces and ready for a stream of curses. If John takes too long... only then he'll enter out of concern.

[thetatters]

John goes down with a shout and a splash. There is a moment's ungainly flailing: he plainly does not know how to swim. Not well, anyway, not with two arms and two legs to keep track of.

He comes up a moment later, already a roil of gold and black. It's difficult to tell where the yellow fabric ends and his body begins. His appearance seems to shift like the surface of the water, unearthly and disorienting to the eye. It doesn't stop him from glaring through the pale mask of his new face.

"Fuck you," he rumbles, voice dropped deep. "Fine, then. We'll all swim."

A tentacle seizes out from the water, grabs for Heat's ankle, and yanks.

[iron_stomach]

"And now we can get a move on," Heat rumbles, a laugh tangled somewhere in the words as John falls into the water with a splash and a yell. It might be the situation, it might be how he can just hear Gale's chastisement in Serph's expression.

It's a mighty struggle to not be grinning as John resurfaces in demon form, perfectly fine. All that act about being afraid of the water is even more obviously only an act, what the POINT was about all that feigned apprehensiveness he had no idea. "And look at that, you're still alive." Anything else he might have added is rather neatly cut off by having one of those tentacles suddenly wind around his ankle and yank him right off his feet with a yelp of surprise and no real time to do anything about it.

Serph left the reasonable adult behind with Jack.

Later yet; july

[iron_stomach]

While turning into a unicorn is not exactly high on Heat's list of good demons to have as a secondary form, it is at least one he knows about even if his is many times bigger than the pony sized ones he knew best. What they're capable of, and of course their diet.

They're just as carnivorous as Agni is, right?

Except his ongoing efforts to master the new form has hit a snag that led to a retreat back to his RV, sweat soaked and still in four legged shape until out of line of sight into the shade of the wide stall portion of the vehicle. Then further in to find refuge on some scavenger cushions that worked well enough for a couch and there simply settle in a very unhappy knot of red hair and bits of dried blood, gray armor and white lingering equine ears and tail.

It's been a LONG time since Heat's had anything like digestive issues, and the debilitating pain of colic is all but unheard of. But he remembered enough of it to know without dis-ache there's not much to be done besides wait it out in misery.

Maybe his noontime kill had been poisonous.

It doesn't occur to him that maybe that other form is a herbivore.

Re: Later yet; july

[wereperrito]

Jack keeps tabs on all three of his roommates, whether they're staying the night in the room or the RV. He's changed back by now, at least, after the fight with the cy-cerberus, so he has hands when he pokes his nose into the RV in search of Heat.

There's a clear smell of misery in there. And. Of. Horse? Why does the place smell like horse? Heat, of course, but also horse.

"Heat?" he calls in, climbing in a little but not going all the way back to where Heat is curled.

[iron_stomach]

At least he's not particularly territorial, and even if he were Jack, by virtue of having agreed to join the tribe (of two- three now), would be exempt from it anyway. The RV was a convenient place to be, with more room than the space on the Convoy the others had used previously.

And it was quieter. Quiet enough where he can hear footsteps, and easily hear Jack speak up. Moving ... really wasn't something he wanted to do, he knew that'd just make things worse, so he doesn't.

How long did poison take to get out of the system?

"Now's not a good time." He doesn't raise his voice but he doesn't have to, he'll be heard anyway, Jack's senses were very sharp. Heat's a little proud that he doesn't sound like he's in a lot of pain, but there's something wrong with the sound anyway. Strained.

[wereperrito]

Yeah, Jack can tell there's something wrong. He steps a little further in, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light, looking for Heat's form in the bed, since he doesn't seem to be standing up. "What happened?" he asks, both brisk and concerned. "Are you hurt?"

He can't imagine Heat would be hiding away if he'd been injured. Maybe he's sick. Maybe something out there had poison in it?

[iron_stomach]

"No." Well, not INJURED, anyway. He definitely hurt. Aside from the recent additions of tail and horseish ears, he looks much the same. The scent of blood isn't his, identifiable perhaps as the blue-scaled lizard monsters slinking around the city, decent enough eating when they can be caught. At least, until now.

It would at this juncture be a very good idea to do soemthing to reassure Jack that he is in fact fine, but he ... doesn't, aside from one hand raised in a brief wave. "Bad meat maybe. It'll go away." Eventually. If Heat's very lucky there won't be any emergencies going on while he's dealing with his internals revolting against him. "Just .. forgot what it's like." He's careful with his words for once, only because too much jostling was uncomfortable and talking counted. "Haven't gotten sick off food since the Vanguards."

[wereperrito]

"Bad meat? I thought you and Serph could eat just about anything." He comes up beside Heat's blankets now, crouching down and considering touching him, to test for a fever. If Heat doesn't glower too much or swat, he decides to try. "What happened with the Vanguards?"

[iron_stomach]

There's an immediate quiet growl when Jack reaches for him, pale horse-ears pinning flat against bright red hair, but there's no real anger or warning behind it, a habitual grumble more than any intention to lash out. "We can. But toxic things stay toxic." He runs hot, even in a human shape, but while still damp with sweat, he doesn't seem to be running an actual fever.

Small mercies. It's still very much painful, as the next series of cramps from a revolting digestive system makes the redhead visibly quiver. "We devoured 'em. Wasn't long after we started changing. You didn't know then how much was too much." And by now there's not much that qualifies as 'too much'. "One lizard shouldn't have been. Maybe the cyborgs are poisoning things."

[wereperrito]

Jack pauses at the growl, hand still hand out, but when nothing more comes of it, he rests it instead on Heat's forehead. Then he strokes back over Heat's hair, between the horse ears, soothing and trying to think. At the sudden wincing, he leans closer and breaths in deep, trying to tell if there's a scent of actual poison or sickness about him.

"Maybe. I don't smell any poison, though. How long ago did you eat? And when was the last time you ate, before that?"