[open] scent of silence under starlight spinning

[borntohurt]

Who: Charles Smith and YOU. Yes you. You.
What: Exploring Anchor with a new four-legged blob-friend. Come say hey!
When: /wiggles hands vaguely and gestures at month of February
Where: All over Anchor. Seriously, he's just exploring the full extent of what's there, so you can meet up with him anywhere.


He couldn't say he'd enjoyed his time there, but things had perhaps been simpler in the City of Sin than he'd given them credit for.

For one, he'd had a place to retreat to with some kind of certainty, when need be. And the need is rather dire, as it happens. He can feel that itch coming up on him, that sense of anxiety that needed release. It grows as the days go by, clawing, scrabbling to be let out, but he doesn't trust the people here quite the same. Here, there seems to be less space to run.

Granted, it wasn't as bad as the first few times. With practice and help, he had something of a handle on the transformation. But it wasn't as good as being able to control it entirely. When it wanted out, it was going to get out, and what it wanted always remained the same. Run. Hunt. Eat. Protect the Pack.

Better that not be around a bunch of people it didn't know.

---

So he's on the move through the city, level by level, looking for anyplace big enough -- and secure enough -- to work for the time being. He's managed to find some new clothing from the recent appearance of the Alien Hot Topic, replacing his worn-out boots and acquiring a new black leather jacket in the process. It's a strange mix of old and modern, still preferring the shirt he'd arrived in, still wearing his beaded necklace, an eagle feather twined into his hair and hanging delicately against his shoulder.

Charles isn't alone, either. Almost fittingly, one of the blobs seems to have taken a liking to him and is following him around in its current assumed form: a large gray wolf. It trots along at his side, quietly offering suggestions and encouragement through this strong bond they now share as they make their way through the levels, exploring as much of the available space as possible.

Really, they're going to make their way just about everywhere in the complex. They're bound to run into at least a few people along the way.

Comments

[borntohurt]

The wolf just stares Kabal down with its bright gold eyes. If it says anything to Charles, he does respond out loud. Instead, he shakes his head. "Not sure if I know how, but there's bound to be simpler things that needs done. Repairs, moving rubble, maybe. I don't know. Still sort of new to all this."

He's not sure how things usually go around here, whether it's a free-for-all, every man for himself, or not. But it seems like most people here are willing to band together if need be. It's a good enough sign for him.

So long as no one tries sticking a wrench in the works.

[kaballin]

There are currently three wrenches in the beautiful society that is Anchor. Two of them are robots. And then there's Kabal. Fortunately for the rest of the community, none of them will work together long enough to actually be effective at any of their schemes.

"Well I've been here for months and I'm here to tell you that this shit don't get better. The only improvement so far is that video store outside so at least we have something to do." Meaning that he's spending time relaxing in his room rather than being a contributing member of society. That sounds like a problem for other people.

"If you wanna get a chore card with little stickers when you complete them I'm sure Peter or one of them do-gooder types can get you started."

He has more to say, something snarky about bake sales, but there's a soft jingling behind him and he groans. Reindire buddy was feeling a little left out and trots up to stand next to Kabal, nudging his shoulder and sniffing at him as if he might suddenly start dispensing food.

[borntohurt]

Odd. The animal seems to have taken to him, and they normally don't without good reason. Maybe there's more to this guy than there appears.

Charles watches the exchange, and Kabal's frustration, with mild curiosity. "Friend of yours? Thought most of them went down to the agricultural level," he murmurs, as the wolf takes to sitting on its haunches just behind Charles's legs.

[kaballin]

"I made the mistake of feeding it. Now it thinks I'm made of cheese logs." He gives it a shove, but the thing is big enough to not even notice; continuing its snuffling investigation of his pockets.

"I'm trying to pawn it off on that naked lady sleeping with all of them, but it doesn't seem to be interested."

[borntohurt]

Naked--

Oh.

"Tall horns, white fur?" He seems to recall Angel being a little off some time ago, about the same time the Reindire first showed up. And later, she'd shown up with a whole herd of them. Apparently this one had taken a liking to this fellow instead. No telling why, other than desperation to be fed. That could motivate any animal to follow someone less than trustworthy.

He'd known men who behaved just the same, after all.

[kaballin]

"Yeah. Tail, fluffy, stars floating around, hot as shit. That one." He has no food for the reindire, and even if he did he wouldn't share it. But he stops trying to shove it away. Not worth it.

"Why is there more than one person running around naked?"

The reindire lowers its head to chew on Kabal's shoes, because clearly it's starving to death even though Kabal just marched this stupid thing out through the park where there's plenty of shit to eat. Assuming it eats leaves. "Wouldn't be so bad if I could train it to attack. Got some great claws going on."

[borntohurt]

"Doesn't matter to some people."

It's never particularly mattered to him. Bodies are bodies. It's a little strange, but not the strangest thing. Certainly not the thing he'd choose to question here, of all places.

He watches the reindire try in vain to find something to nibble on. It seems almost bonded to him, despite the man's efforts. That's something worth questioning.

But instead--

"What would you train it to attack?"

[kaballin]

"No I'm asking if there's more. Matters to me if there's a colony of hot naked women running around here for some reason. Seems like the kind of thing you'd wanna keep an eye on."

You know.. for safety or something.

"Why not? It's got claws, it's got teeth, what else am I gonna do with it? Train it to fetch the morning paper?"

[borntohurt]

"She has someone to keep an eye on her, already. And I'm pretty sure she's the only one of her there is."

God help them if there was ever more than one Angel. He loves her, he truly does, but that way lies madness.

"No, I mean what are you training it to attack? No one here is any real threat to anyone else, as far as I can tell."

[kaballin]

"They don't run in herds?" Packs of naked minotaur ladies sounds like something that should have been in the Netherrealm. If he ever gets back to his own time he'll have to find out.

"Whatever I want it to. And you're right, no one's a threat because everyone here is all about getting along and doing household chores. But what if that changes? What if a whole army shows up set on destroying the place? Then we have a cool clawed deer to thin the ranks so I don't have to do everything myself." As if he would altruistically save them from an oncoming army and doesn't just want to fight things regardless of the cause.

[borntohurt]

It's a valid concern. A real possibility, if what he's learned so far is true. Even so.

A shoulder rolls upwards in a half-shrug. "A lot of the people doing 'chores' are capable of fighting just fine. There's just no need right now," he replies softly.

Some people don't need to swing their weight around. Just saying, Kabal.

The wolf, meanwhile, has switched its gaze to the Reindire as it tries to bully food out of Kabal's empty pockets while they speak.

[kaballin]

He snorts. "Lacking a little imagination there. People are people. They can't get along for that long before they get on each other's nerves and start throwing punches. Hopefully where everyone else can watch but knowing everyone here that's too much to ask for. We run short on one food item and you see how eager they are to pitch in their fair share."

The reindire settles for gnawing on the sleeve of his jacket, having found no hidden food.

Kabal just sighs, "And then hopefully we have an excuse to eat this dumb thing."

[borntohurt]

He's right. He's right, and Charles has seen it happen. People will turn on each other in a heartbeat, even friends if they feel their backs are against the wall. He watched it happen with the gang, up to the point he couldn't watch any more and left. But he saw what was left behind in the wake of that schism.

Could that happen here, as well?

In either case, the way he's fallen silent is a good indication that Kabal's given him cause for second thoughts.

[kaballin]

"Never know when that might happen. Were you here when everyone was seeing shit? Hallucinating all kinds of crazy stuff. There was.." His further explanation is cut off by the reindire bleating out an angry cry and whacking Kabal with its horns.

He cuffs it across the face and it goes a few feet away to glare at him. Apparently this relationship is based on them beating each other up when they don't get what they want or annoy the other.

"Anyway. You and the mutt might wanna see about having yourselves a back up plan should the communal dinners run out."

[borntohurt]

The animal seemingly can hold its own against him. But there's a reflexive curl of his fist, a little twinge of something quietly furious, and in echo the wolf at his side growls softly. Though that could easily be a response to being called a 'mutt', so far as Kabal knows.

"The plan is to take care of everyone we can. Even the people who don't see a need for it."

The people they don't like, for example.

[kaballin]

"Well aren't you nice."

His eyeroll isn't visible with the mask, but he is so sick of these do gooder types. Why do they keep showing up here? Hasn't he suffered enough being dead and all?

"You have fun with that." He turns to leave, reindire at his side ready to fight or munch on him, depending on how the mood strikes.