Skin & Scales IF: PUBLIC 2

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//“Oh but will you use me for good?”// //“Yes, fairest one. Your teeth will be bared toward any conquerors, your claws toward any who wish to topple our kingdom. You will be used in all the ways a beast must. To better us.”// //“That is a worse fate than rotting forgotten.”// [[“But so it shall be.”|prolouge2]]

The knight coughed once, a torn, ragged thing that did little but worsen the situation as they felt clotted blood spring into their mouth once again, causing them to roll onto their stomach and ride the coughing fit out. Thick scarlet globs splattered against the earth, soggy to the touch from the earlier rain that though ceased now to be, bore its memory within the darkened clouds that blotted the sky. Apt weather for the situation, one may think. Using the bits of strength they had left, the golden-armored guard took their mighty sword, stained and chipped beyond recognition, and stuck it into the ground, lifting themselves best they could and fighting back the second coughing fit that threatened to overwhelm them. A hand to their side. That was all they could offer themselves in form of comfort. A hand over a wound on their middle that earlier, they could’ve sworn would’ve been their last. But no. Unlike the bodies scattered around them, they kept breathing. The forms were practically unrecognizable, either too caked in mud and blood to examine, or torn to ribbons and burnt to a crisp, any effort of returning their bodies to a worried family turned useless. The knight stared on at this battlefield, this minefield of people they once called siblings, once called friends. Next to them, in less numbers yet still with the horrid gaping wounds the knight’s friends called their own, were the crumpled bodies of the draconic beasts, the monsters that had torn through their kingdom in a heartbeat. //“So it shall be. What you must think of me.”// //“No mightier than a beast, no tamer than a dog.”// [[“So it shall be.”|prolouge3]]

The very earth of the battlefield lay still and beaten, scorched earth hills returning to nothing but dirt below the now ash-tinted sky. In the far off distance, the knight could recognize a kingdom, but its towers rose too high for them to see properly with the low-hanging clouds. As if the sky mourned for them as well. The slightest clink of their armor was the only real noise the knight could keep aware of as they stood and walked further into the field, arm hanging limp as they used what remained of their muscles to grip their sword in clasped, shaking fingers. The trail the blade left was long and tireless, wavering slightly every time the golden-clad person did, a tinge of humanity left in the wake of unwavering faithfulness. //“May I ask this holy knight for one final wish? One final seal upon my coffin?”// [[“And what is that?”|prolouge4]]

A sigh. A sigh is what made the knight stop in their practically endless journey. They turned their head in a long loop, whatever remains of their helmet sliding ever so slightly down their face once more. Then, they spotted it. The largest thing in the field. They had assumed it was a hill. Maybe a pile of bodies. But what lies before them was far from their soil. A dragon. There was a pause, the guard eyeing the creature up and down its long body, at first eyeing the large talons warily, then slowly passing over the large, serrated wounds that still leaked fresh blood with a feeling in their gut much like hesitance. They stared for a moment longer, pulling in a shaky breath, one of the most uncertain they had ever taken, then took a step forwards. Once upon the slain beast, they could see that the thing had only the slightest bit of breath still left within it, breaths that came out shaky and shallow through a barely parted maw coated with the blood of other knights. The hesitation turned to grief, then to duty. And so, the mighty sword was lifted once again, hoping to be its last arc to forever end this brutality. After all, what are swords otherwise meant for? One arc. That’s all it would take. [[Then the beast opened its eye.|prolougeend]]

<center>[[“Breathe with me.”|chapter one splash]]</center>

Of all the ways you imagined your first day in the big city to go, being arrested and cuffed to a table in an interrogation room really wasn’t your first guess. Sure, moving into a new city is always bound to have some hiccups here and there, but if the sharp chill of the steel table below your forearms is any giveaway, maybe it wasn’t normal for things to go //this// bad. The officer seated across from you doesn’t seem to want to be here either, if her crossed arms and casual lean back in the chair gave anything away. She seems to be chewing gum of some kind, the loud popping causing your eye to twitch ever so slightly. Great. Cool. You stare down at the table, manila folder open in front of you with a short information packet laid at your (still very much cuffed) hands, a pen lying slightly discarded to the side. Just minutes before, the officer had entered without a word, silently dropping the folder in front of you before assuming the position she stayed completely still in even now, eyes ever so often glancing from you, the papers, the door, to her wristwatch. Letting out a breath, you resigned yourself to taking another look down at the papers, finally understanding that you’d be getting nowhere fast if you just sat there blinking owlishly at the officer until someone said something. The first line asked for your first name. <<textbox "$name" "">> The second asked for your last, which you filled in quickly and quietly. ''Le Fay'', a last name sitting bolded and pronounced on the yellowish paper. [[And the third devolved into the excitement of bubble-filling.->gender]]

Not like you hadn’t seen paperwork before, but doing so in a police station of your new home city of all things was decidedly less comfortable. The first real question asked for your gender. [[I am a woman->pronouns][$person to "woman", $sirmaam to "ma'am"]] [[I am a man->pronouns][$person to "man", $sirmaam to "sir"]] [[I am non-binary->pronouns][$person to "person"]]

Following this along the right-hand side was the room for clarification of pronouns. [[she/her->pronoun detail][$heshe to "she", $himher to "her", $hisher to "her", $hishers to "hers", $himself to "herself"]] [[he/him->pronoun detail][$heshe to "he", $himher to "him", $hisher to "his", $hishers to "his", $himself to "himself"]] [[they/them->pronoun detail][$heshe to "they", $himher to "them", $hisher to "their", $hishers to "theirs", $himself to "themself"]] [[xe/xem->pronoun detail][$heshe to "xe", $himher to "xem", $hisher to "xyr", $hishers to "xyrs", $himself to "xemself"]] [[ze/hir->pronoun detail][$heshe to "ze", $himher to "hir", $hisher to "hir", $hishers to "hirs", $himself to "hirself"]] [[or a blank space for you to clarify your own.|singular or plural pronouns]]

<<if $heshe is "they">><<set $pronouns_plural to true>><<set $pronouns_singular to false>><</if>><<if $heshe is "xe">><<set $pronouns_plural to true>><<set $pronouns_singular to false>><</if>>You pause to adjust the pen in your grip, cold handcuffs biting into your skin as you frown with the unnecessary hurdle put into your way. Your eyes pass over the information already filled out, ignoring the absolute monotone dread that rises in your stomach in readying up for the rest of the page. They don’t ask on the papers, thank god, but a question finds itself at the forefront of your mind. Were you always comfortable with the place you find yourself in now? [[Yes, I have always felt comfortable with my identity (Cis)->cissy]] [[No, I haven't always been comfortable in this skin (Trans)->trans]] [[No, and I'm still not completely happy with who I am (Trans)->dysphoric]]

Do you use singular or plural pronouns? [[Singular pronouns|singular neopronouns]] [[Plural pronouns|plural neopronouns]]

<<set $pronouns_singular to true>><<set $pronouns_plural to false>> Subject: <<textbox "$heshe" "she">> Object: <<textbox "$himher" "her">> Possesive Adjective: <<textbox "$hisher" "her">> Possesive Pronoun: <<textbox "$hishers" "hers">> Reflexive: <<textbox "$himself" "herself">> You pause to adjust the pen in your grip, cold handcuffs biting into your skin as you frown with the unnecessary hurdle put into your way. Your eyes pass over the information already filled out, ignoring the absolute monotone dread that rises in your stomach in readying up for the rest of the page. They don’t ask on the papers, thank god, but a question finds itself at the forefront of your mind. Were you always comfortable with the place you find yourself in now? [[Yes, I have always felt comfortable with my identity (Cis)->cissy]] [[No, I haven't always been comfortable in this skin (Trans)->trans]] [[No, and I'm still not completely happy with who I am (Trans)->dysphoric]]

<<set $pronouns_singular to false>><<set $pronouns_plural to true>> Subject: <<textbox "$heshe" "they">> Object: <<textbox "$himher" "them">> Possesive Adjective: <<textbox "$hisher" "their">> Possesive Pronoun: <<textbox "$hishers" "theirs">> Reflexive: <<textbox "$himself" "themself">> You pause to adjust the pen in your grip, cold handcuffs biting into your skin as you frown with the unnecessary hurdle put into your way. Your eyes pass over the information already filled out, ignoring the absolute monotone dread that rises in your stomach in readying up for the rest of the page. They don’t ask on the papers, thank god, but a question finds itself at the forefront of your mind. Were you always comfortable with the place you find yourself in now? [[Yes, I have always felt comfortable with my identity (Cis)->cissy]] [[No, I haven't always been comfortable in this skin (Trans)->trans]] [[No, and I'm still not completely happy with who I am (Trans)->dysphoric]]

<<set $cis to true>>As comfortable as one could be, at least, with these eyes on you. Doesn’t mean you don’t have your moments of uneasiness. Anyone would under these circumstances, honestly. [[Next|looks start]]

<<set $trans to true>>You’ve worked hard to get to this point, faced down far worse than whatever uncomfortable awkwardness could permeate the cold interrogation room. You take a breath, adjusting the pen in your grip and rolling your shoulders before returning to the paper. [[Next|looks start]]

<<set $dysphoric to true>><<set $trans to true>>You set your jaw and shift in your seat, the officer’s eyes on you suddenly burning much more. Being taken in was certainly not a joyful experience but especially with your personal comfort, just sitting here with no real comforting presence made you all the more isolated. All the more aware of how your skin just didn’t fit. All the more aware- The officer coughs, noticing your hesitation but doesn’t make any further move or expression to prompt you otherwise. [[Next|looks start]]

The rest of the work goes surprisingly smoothly, at least on the remainder of the page. It simply asks for clarifications on personal information, and you pause before filling out “non-applicable” on the address section. You wrinkle your nose. You’re sure the print is just part of the process as it is for everyone, but it’s a rather obvious reminder that you don’t belong anywhere. Not even here, it seems. On the next page there is more simple text, letting you set down your pen for a moment as you rotate your wrists in the cuffs to look over and clear the information laid out from your appearance. <<if $dysphoric is true>>Great. More of this, then.<</if>> The photo attached looks like you, for sure. From a few seconds ago that is. Your hair was cut [[Close-shaven->bald]] [[Short, above the ears->above the ears]] [[Short, below the ears->below the ears]] [[Long->long hair]] [[Covered by a headscarf->headscarf]]

<<set $nohair to true>><<set $bald to true>>The wind of the interrogation room has been persistently annoying you, breathing down more than just your neck. You suppress that shiver. <<nobr>>Your eyes were a <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "brown">> <<option "gray">> <<option "black">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "red">> <<option "yellow">> <<option "purple">> <<option "heterochromatic">> <</cycle>> color, and your skin a <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "white">> <<option "beige">> <<option "brown">> <<option "black">> <</cycle>> shade. <</nobr>> [[You kept looking through the paper.|details details]]

<<set $hairlength to "above the ears">><<set $hair to true>>With your shorter hair, the air conditioning within the room was just the slightest bit too cold, and you could feel it blowing lightly against the back of your neck. <<nobr>>Your hair was a <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>> <<option "black">> <<option "brown">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "red">> <<option "white">> <<option "dyed">> <</cycle>> color with a <<cycle "$hairtexture" autoselect>> <<option "straight">> <<option "wavy">> <<option "curly">> <<option "kinky">> <</cycle>> texture that framed your <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "brown">> <<option "gray">> <<option "black">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "red">> <<option "yellow">> <<option "purple">> <<option "heterochromatic">> <</cycle>> eyes and <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "white">> <<option "beige">> <<option "brown">> <<option "black">> <</cycle>> skin. <</nobr>> [[You kept looking through the paper.|details details]]

<<set $hairlength to "below the ears">><<set $hair to true>>Your hair falls just slightly in front of your eyes, the cool air of the room reaching everywhere but the nape of your neck. <<nobr>>Your hair was a <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>> <<option "black">> <<option "brown">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "red">> <<option "white">> <<option "dyed">> <</cycle>> color with a <<cycle "$hairtexture" autoselect>> <<option "straight">> <<option "wavy">> <<option "curly">> <<option "kinky">> <</cycle>> texture that framed your <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "brown">> <<option "gray">> <<option "black">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "red">> <<option "yellow">> <<option "purple">> <<option "heterochromatic">> <</cycle>> eyes and <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "white">> <<option "beige">> <<option "brown">> <<option "black">> <</cycle>> skin. <</nobr>> [[You kept looking through the paper.|details details]]

<<set $hairlength to "long">><<set $hair to true>>Your hair falls far past your ears, reaching past your shoulders. It’s just heavy enough to weigh down your neck to stare downwards, as if you already weren’t focused on the paper. <<nobr>>Your hair was a <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>> <<option "black">> <<option "brown">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "red">> <<option "white">> <<option "dyed">> <</cycle>> color with a <<cycle "$hairtexture" autoselect>> <<option "straight">> <<option "wavy">> <<option "curly">> <<option "kinky">> <</cycle>> texture that framed your <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "brown">> <<option "gray">> <<option "black">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "red">> <<option "yellow">> <<option "purple">> <<option "heterochromatic">> <</cycle>> eyes and <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "white">> <<option "beige">> <<option "brown">> <<option "black">> <</cycle>> skin. <</nobr>> [[You kept looking through the paper.|details details]]

<<set $headscarf to true>><<set $nohair to true>>The cloth of your headscarf brushes against your cheek, but goes otherwise unnoticed to yourself. <<nobr>>Your eyes were a <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "brown">> <<option "gray">> <<option "black">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "red">> <<option "yellow">> <<option "purple">> <<option "heterochromatic">> <</cycle>> color, and your skin a <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "white">> <<option "beige">> <<option "brown">> <<option "black">> <</cycle>> shade. <</nobr>> [[You kept looking through the paper.|details details]]

<<if $haircolor is "dyed">>Along with this, your hair was dyed <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>> <<option "scarlet red.">> <<option "blue.">> <<option "green.">> <<option "purple.">> <<option "pink.">> <</cycle>><</if>> The more unseen things through the mugshot however, was your height, which was <<cycle "$height" autoselect>> <<option "shorter than average (5’0”-5’4”)">> <<option "average (5’5”-5’8”)">> <<option "tall (5’9”-6’4”)">> <<option "huge (6’5”-7’0”)">> <</cycle>> and your [[facial hair]] or [[growing exhaustion with the questions.]]

With everything else, you also had a bit of facial hair you had grown in over time. Your chin was [[slightly stubbly|growing exhaustion with the questions.][$facialhair to "stubble"]] [[growing a formidable beard|growing exhaustion with the questions.][$facialhair to "beard"]] [[gifted with a mustache|growing exhaustion with the questions.][$facialhair to "mustache"]] [[housing a goatee|growing exhaustion with the questions.][$facialhair to "goatee"]]

Did you also have physical disabilities that came unlisted in the documents? <<if $height is "shorter than average (5’0”-5’4”)">><<set $height to "short">><</if>><<if $height is "average (5’5”-5’8”)">><<set $height to "average">><</if>><<if $height is "tall (5’9”-6’4”)">><<set $height to "tall">><</if>><<if $height is "huge (6’5”-7’0”)">><<set $height to "huge">><</if>> [[Yes|physical disabilities]] [[No|dragon list start]]

<<set $disability to true>>You’ve always struggled with things most abled-bodied people find came more naturally to them. Whether it was a more complex task or just a simple one, life has not taken it easy on you in comparison. Always in comparison, huh. You brush some of the tanned paper unconsciously, a quick moment of a nervous tick rising. So be it. You have: [[A prosthetic left arm]] [[A prosthetic right arm]] [[Both arms prosthetic]] [[A prosthetic left leg]] [[A prosthetic right leg]] [[Both legs prosthetic]] You are: [[Blind in your left eye]] [[Blind in your right eye]] [[Hard of Hearing]]

<<set $stgadd = 10>><<set $stgblank =90>><<set $dexadd = 10>><<set $dexblank =90>><<set $chaadd = 10>><<set $chablank =90>><<set $intadd = 10>><<set $intblank =90>>The final page, however, was the most revealing. You were raised knowing what you were. What slinked beneath your skin. What could be called upon in a moment's notice. Fierce teeth and serrated scales, a build in your bones, in your very being that imbued you with power, imbued you with an ability like no other. An ability to read the paper in front of you with a deep unsettling feeling in your gut. They need your information, dragon-shifter. The first box was very simple, and very significant. What species do you belong to? [[Frostspitter]] [[Firespitter]] [[Lightningspitter]] [[Venomspitter]]

<<set $proesthetic to true>><<set $proesthetic to "left arm">><<set $proestheticarm to true>><<set $proestheticleg to false>>Unlike your right, your left wrist did not feel the bite of the cold handcuffs, instead replaced by a smooth, mechanical look, a tough thing made to last. It has seen you through a lot, and you hope, will continue to see you through more. You give the handcuffs a quick, quiet tug. No give. You don’t know what you expected. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $proesthetic to true>><<set $proesthetic to "right arm">><<set $proestheticarm to true>><<set $proestheticleg to false>>Unlike your left, your right wrist did not feel the bite of the cold handcuffs, instead replaced by a smooth, mechanical look, a tough thing made to last. It has seen you through a lot, and you hope, will continue to see you through more. You give the handcuffs a quick, quiet tug. No give. You don’t know what you expected. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $proesthetic to true>><<set $proesthetic to "both arms">><<set $proestheticarm to true>><<set $proestheticleg to false>>The cold of the handcuffs you assumed would burden any other person don't effect you, both of your arms replaced with tough carbon fiber, a feat in it of itself. They have seen you through a lot, and you hope, will continue to see you through more. You give the handcuffs a quick, quiet tug. No give. You don’t know what you expected. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $proesthetic to true>><<set $proesthetic to "left leg">><<set $proestheticarm to false>><<set $proestheticleg to true>>Your left leg bounces idly for a moment, shoe tapping against the flat tile for a moment before it stills. You’ve had this leg prosthetic for a while now, and it hasn’t ever given you trouble before. You hope it stays that way. You do like the balance. You let out a quick huff through your nose. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $proesthetic to true>><<set $proesthetic to "right leg">><<set $proestheticarm to false>><<set $proestheticleg to true>>Your right leg bounces idly for a moment, shoe tapping against the flat tile for a moment before it stills. You’ve had this leg prosthetic for a while now, and it hasn’t ever given you trouble before. You hope it stays that way. You do like the balance. You let out a quick huff through your nose. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $proesthetic to true>><<set $proesthetic to "both legs">><<set $proestheticarm to false>><<set $proestheticleg to true>>You don’t tend to notice the loss of sensation as much as you would on your arms, but nevertheless, the numb tingle around your lower spine you’ve gotten from sitting so long doesn’t quite reach your toes. Or your lack of them. You’ve had these leg prosthetics for a while now, and they have never given you trouble before. You hope they stays that way. You do like the balance. You let out a quick huff through your nose. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $disability to "left eye">><<set $proestheticarm to false>><<set $blindeye to true>>As you write, you tilt your head ever so slightly to keep within the lines of the paper as you jot down your answers, sense of balance just ever so slightly thrown off by your blindness within your left eye, demonstrating itself here with these papers more than anywhere else. People haven’t stopped suggesting an eyepatch though. A perk, they say. You tilt your head back up. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $disability to "right eye">><<set $blindeye to true>><<set $proestheticarm to false>>As you write, you tilt your head ever so slightly to keep within the lines of the paper as you jot down your answers, sense of balance just ever so slightly thrown off by your blindness within your right eye, demonstrating itself here with these papers more than anywhere else. People haven’t stopped suggesting an eyepatch though. A perk, they say. You tilt your head back up. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

<<set $disability to "hoh">>You tilt your head back, lightly lifting your shoulder to rub gently at the back of your ear, hearing aid shifting just slightly enough to scratch the smallest itch you’ve had since you’ve gotten in here. At least the officers here had the decency of asking if you needed help with an interpreter. Not much else though. [[You turn the page.|dragon list start]]

Frostspitter. Also known as ice dragons, they are one of the larger species of the four, and are known for their naturally cold bodies, icicle-like spines covering the back of their neck, spine, and tip of their whip-like tail. They tend to have lighter, blue and white scale colors, and have sharp and long horns, sometimes appearing even antler-like in nature. Their frostbreath is exceedingly dangerous, and being caught in a particularly strong blast can freeze someone to death at worst, causing quick and intense frostbite, or hold them in place temporarily at best. They have an incredible tolerance for the cold, and can increase the amount of frost that accumulates on their body, forming even more serrated icicles on their bodies. Is this your species? [[Yes, this is me|species yes][$species to "frostspitter"]] [[No, I think I got something wrong|species no]]

Firespitter. A strong and well-known species, these fire dragons are the most varied of the four species, and range in everything from their size to their population. Usually on the shorter side size-wise, they have naturally warm bodies and sharp, spiked, curved horns. They tend to have warmer tones as their main scale colors, and a row of evenly spaced spikes across their spine leading to the bottom of their tail. Their firebreath is naturally dangerous, even being exposed to a bit of their fire being able to cause excessive burns, especially to human skin. Most firespitters have a strong tolerance for the heat, and can quite literally set themselves on fire, sometimes managing to accidentally do so when fueled by intense anger or passion. Is this your species? [[Yes, this is me|species yes][$species to "firespitter"]] [[No, I think I got something wrong|species no]]

Lightningspitters. Semi-aquatic and naturally strong, the Lightning dragon subspecies tend to be very large, and are slightly heavier set from the bulk of their physical prowess, which lies in their strength. They have smoother skin than any of the other species, and have a long fin that reaches from the top of their head around their heavy curved horns to the back of their tails. Tails, as it just so happens, that are naturally thick and heavy, capable of smashing through solid wood. Their lightningbreath is notoriously finicky, as they do not store the breath within them to the same degree of the other species, but call upon it like a natural lighting-rod. When these strikes hit, however, they are incredibly impactful, and explosive in certain circumstances. Their breath is usually saved for larger, more open spaces due to its destructive nature. Is this your species? [[Yes, this is me|species yes][$species to "lightningspitter"]] [[No, I think I got something wrong|species no]]

Venomspitters. Also known as simply venom dragons, this subspecies tends to be the smallest of the four species, and are very light on their feet as well as great flyers, due to the extra sail on the end of their tail allowing for much better maneuvering. They have two long venomous fangs that peer out from their upper jaw, and have various flexible sails and fans along the sides of their face, and one long sail stretched across their spine. These sails can be flared and slitted closed according to mood, and have slick, curved horns. The venom these dragons have is stored within them, naturally occurring in sacs inside their body, close to their upper neck, behind their sails. The venom they store is very potent, and can take down beasts larger than them in minutes, if not seconds depending on the amount of venom given. The acid is also slightly corrosive, and burns to the touch even if it does not reach inside the body of the victim. Is this your species? [[Yes, this is me|species yes][$species to "venomspitter"]] [[No, I think I got something wrong|species no]]

<<if $species is "frostspitter">><<set $int to Math.clamp($intadd +=10)>><</if>><<if $species is "lightningspitter">><<set $stg to Math.clamp($stgadd +=10)>><</if>><<if $species is "venomspitter">><<set $dex to Math.clamp($dexadd +=10)>><</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">><<set $cha to Math.clamp($chaadd +=10)>><</if>>You pause for a moment as you read ahead onto the next question. It seems to be asking about your dragon forms size, on a quick bubble-like answering sheet. Oddly personal question but you can assume it’s meant for risk-evaluation in case of any environmental surroundings. You can assume, anyway. <<nobr>>You are a <<cycle "$dragonsize" autoselect>> <<option "small">> <<option "medium">> <<option "large">> <</cycle>> sized dragon, and have a primarily <<cycle "$primaryscale" autoselect>> <<option "red">> <<option "orange">> <<option "golden">> <<option "yellow">> <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "purple">> <<option "pink">> <<option "black">> <<option "gray">> <<option "white">> <<option "brown">> <</cycle>> scale pigment, with a <<cycle "$secondaryscale" autoselect>> <<option "red">> <<option "orange">> <<option "golden">> <<option "yellow">> <<option "green">> <<option "blue">> <<option "purple">> <<option "pink">> <<option "black">> <<option "gray">> <<option "white">> <<option "brown">> <</cycle>> secondary scale color. <</nobr>> <<nobr>>On top of this, your body has visible <<cycle "$spikesail" autoselect>> <<option "sharp spikes">> <<option "thin sails">> <</cycle>> running down the length of your spine. <</nobr>> Your eyes slide down the page further, a growing discomfort within the room heightening every inch or so your eyes slide down. They need to know //everything.// The next question somehow manages to push the boundary further though. //Can you use your breath weapon?// A simple question, really, but only given to those who would not exploit it, not dare to do anything with the information. You shift the pen in your hand and this time, don’t raise your eyes to look at the officer which you know is looking right back at you. You can feel her eyes. Well, can you? [[Yes|breath weapon yes]] [[No|breath weapon no]]

What species do you belong to? [[Frostspitter]] [[Firespitter]] [[Lightningspitter]] [[Venomspitter]]

<<set $breathweapon to true>><<nobr>>You can use your <<if $species is "frostspitter">>freezing breath, that usually lingers like a cold mist over you,<</if>> <<if $species is "firespitter">>firey breath, which you find you pull from the deepest, warmest parts of yourself right next to your heart,<</if>> <<if $species is "lightningspitter">>lightning breath, which you've noticed always lingers slightly around you even if not used, like the smallest tingling sensation,<</if>> <<if $species is "venomspitter">>venomous fangs, which is less like a feeling you've noticed other shifters deal with, and more of a lingering knowledge and promise of use,<</if>> when you need to, and are careful enough when around other people. You assume this is the same for most dragon shifters. So why do they need to know this? You set your jaw. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to think this deeply, or at the very least this blatantly about your dragon form.<</nobr>> You’ve been around enough people to know that society has… mixed feelings about who you are, and what you can change into. The stares linger, you know. <<if $trans is true>> And you know all about stares.<</if>> But you’ve also come a long way with your own interpretation of it, and it’s left you with a significant feeling of... [[Pride|dragon pride]] [[Indifference|dragon indiffrence]] [[Fear|dragon fear]]

<<set $breathweapon to false>>Another upset to the list, if being who you were already didn’t make you a target for questions and lies. It has not been easy and if you weren’t lying to yourself, you’d say it still was. Being known for being a dragon and the actual implications and expectations of what a dragon “should have” have always coincided with you. You’ve witnessed enough conversation about what really makes a dragon to feel out of the conversation, a disappointing footnote both to purist humans who want nothing do to with you, and prideful shifters who cannot stand the idea of being anything less than themselves. A horrible thing really, caught between these ends. But you yourself, in all that you are, in all that you may transform into, have felt rather strongly about your form, what everyone calls draconic, and it leaves you with a feeling of... [[Pride|dragon pride]] [[Indifference|dragon indiffrence]] [[Fear|dragon fear]]

<<set $dragonpride to true>><<set $dragonindiffrence to false>><<set $dragonfear to false>><<set $humanstat to 30>><<set $dragonstat to 100>>You could call it by no other name. Pride. Honor. Whatever you may call it. You were perfectly happy with your relationship with yourself- all of you. Even confident in it. After all, who wouldn’t be? You were unique, unlike many others but still managed to find yourself a community through the trials that bonded you. Not many can say they’ve taken it so well in stride as you have, but you’d be lying if you said hadn’t been through the wringer with it. But those didn’t pierce your scales, why should this new place be any different? The papers do not continue past this point. You let out a breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding for as long as you have, and drop the pen, pushing the paper forwards slightly, as much as you can without straining against your cuffs again while also quietly letting the officer know you’re done. You raise your gaze to her. [[“Am I free to go?” You ask genuinely, unconsciously sitting up a bit straighter.|genuine][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Are we done here?” You say coldly, narrowing your eyes just the slightest bit.|cold][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Sooo…..you guys do anything fun around here?” You huff with a sardonic smile.|sarcastic][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing, focusing your eyes back in your lap.|nervous][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing, lifting your eyes further to stare into the one way mirror across from you.|stoic][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $dragonindiffrence to true>><<set $dragonfear to false>><<set $dragonpride to false>><<set $humanstat to 50>><<set $dragonstat to 100>>Being who you are… //what// you are in this world has always felt disjointed. You were perfectly fine with yourself, what some may call a gift and others a curse, but that didn’t mean that you were stupid. You heard how people talked about you. You’ve seen how the very nature of people changed when they recognized this part of you. A beast they call it. You just call it $name. These claws and wings of yours are no more than a part of you as your eyes and your mouth are now. So it shall be. The papers do not continue past this point. You let out a breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding for as long as you have, and drop the pen, pushing the paper forwards slightly, as much as you can without straining against your cuffs again while also quietly letting the officer know you’re done. You raise your gaze to her. [[“Am I free to go?” You ask genuinely, unconsciously sitting up a bit straighter.|genuine][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Are we done here?” You say coldly, narrowing your eyes just the slightest bit.|cold][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Sooo…..you guys do anything fun around here?” You huff with a sardonic smile.|sarcastic][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing, focusing your eyes back in your lap.|nervous][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing, lifting your eyes further to stare into the one way mirror across from you.|stoic][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $dragonfear to true>><<set $dragonpride to false>><<set $dragonindiffrence to false>><<set $humanstat to 70>><<set $dragonstat to 100>>As soon as your eyes landed on the shifter page, a stone of ice dropped in your belly. You thought it to be a pebble, something you could digest easy and move on. But even if the questions themselves didn’t make things worse, the very prolonged thought of this part of you…this monster that you’ve learned every inch of, every plate and sharp edge, always manages to turn itself into a boulder slinking down your throat. It’s made a home of this body, and you have never forgiven yourself for letting it in. They were right. The papers do not continue past this point. You let out a breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding for as long as you have, and drop the pen, pushing the paper forwards slightly, as much as you can without straining against your cuffs again while also quietly letting the officer know you’re done. You raise your gaze to her. [[“Am I free to go?” You ask genuinely, unconsciously sitting up a bit straighter.|genuine][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Are we done here?” You say coldly, narrowing your eyes just the slightest bit.|cold][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Sooo…..you guys do anything fun around here?” You huff with a sardonic smile.|sarcastic][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing, focusing your eyes back in your lap.|nervous][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing, lifting your eyes further to stare into the one way mirror across from you.|stoic][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“Am I free to go?” You ask genuinely, unconsciously sitting up a bit straighter. You have better things to do than upset the officer in front of you, and getting through this process, you’re sure, will cause less pain for the both of you moving forwards. Besides, if the woman now sitting up and sliding your papers towards herself was in your shoes, you can hope she’d be reacting the same. The officer checks through the papers attached to the clipboard, only barely glancing up to slide the pen closer to her while giving you a look that could at best be viewed as suspicious, and you watch in silence as she designates you no response and instead continues to read at a tortuously slow pace. The silence is finally, mercifully, ended when there is a knock at the door, and the officer leans her head back for a second before sighing and standing, the metal chair she was previously leaning back against scraping annoyingly across the floor. She moves to the door across from you without a word, pulling open the door and handing over the clipboard to an associate before simply walking out. The door begins to swing shut, leaving you blinking rather owlishly at the complete abandonment, before a hand flashes out and grips the side, not pushing the door out further, but instead resting there as the door remains partially closed as voices continue behind the steel. You, on the other hand, [[stay still. This is too much trouble than it’s worth.|stay seated]] [[lean over to see if you can catch a glance. This is your business they’re talking about after all.|peer over]]

“Are we done here?” You say coldly, narrowing your eyes just the slightest bit. Maybe antagonizing the officer isn’t the best call here, but you can hardly find the opportunity to care. They dragged you here under bullshit pretenses, and expect you to stay still and happy? Yeah right. The officer dashes her eyes up to you, nose wrinkling with the glare she fixes you. You glare right back. But instead of a response, she says nothing, a pretty glorious show of self-restraint as instead she yanks the papers back to her, eyes flicking back to the papers though the tension remains in her shoulders. The officer checks through the papers attached to the clipboard, only barely glancing up to slide the pen closer to her while giving you a look that could at best be viewed as suspicious, and you watch in silence as she designates you no response and instead continues to read at a tortuously slow pace. The silence is finally, mercifully, ended when there is a knock at the door, and the officer leans her head back for a second before sighing and standing, the metal chair she was previously leaning back against scraping annoyingly across the floor. She moves to the door across from you without a word, pulling open the door and handing over the clipboard to an associate before simply walking out. The door begins to swing shut, leaving you blinking rather owlishly at the complete abandonment, before a hand flashes out and grips the side, not pushing the door out further, but instead resting there as the door remains partially closed as voices continue behind the steel. You, on the other hand, [[stay still. This is too much trouble than it’s worth.|stay seated]] [[lean over to see if you can catch a glance. This is your business they’re talking about after all.|peer over]]

“Sooo…..you guys do anything fun around here?” You huff with a sardonic smile. You find yourself leaning back slightly in the chair, handcuffs the only thing stopping you from slinging an arm over the back of the chair and really lounging like you’d prefer. The officer’s eyebrow twitches, and though she doesn’t respond as she pulls the papers back to her, you can’t help but smirk at the clear but quiet irritation radiating from her. Good. Serves them right. If they insisted on dragging you all the way here, you may as well be a right bastard about it. The officer checks through the papers attached to the clipboard, only barely glancing up to slide the pen closer to her while giving you a look that could at best be viewed as suspicious, and you watch in silence as she designates you no response and instead continues to read at a tortuously slow pace. The silence is finally, mercifully, ended when there is a knock at the door, and the officer leans her head back for a second before sighing and standing, the metal chair she was previously leaning back against scraping annoyingly across the floor. She moves to the door across from you without a word, pulling open the door and handing over the clipboard to an associate before simply walking out. The door begins to swing shut, leaving you blinking rather owlishly at the complete abandonment, before a hand flashes out and grips the side, not pushing the door out further, but instead resting there as the door remains partially closed as voices continue behind the steel. You, on the other hand, [[stay still. This is too much trouble than it’s worth.|stay seated]] [[lean over to see if you can catch a glance. This is your business they’re talking about after all.|peer over]]

You say nothing, focusing your eyes back in your lap. You can’t help but fidget, wishing for everything in the world not to be here, to at the very least to be able to put your hands in your lap. Both for the relief, and the comfort. Maybe if you will it all away it’ll be over quicker. You can certainly hope the process goes fast if you just shut up and listen. But there’s nothing to hear but the slide of the papers as the officer pulls the papers back to her, seemingly ignorant of your quiet state of affairs. The officer checks through the papers attached to the clipboard, only barely glancing up to slide the pen closer to her while giving you a look that could at best be viewed as suspicious, and you watch in silence as she designates you no response and instead continues to read at a tortuously slow pace. The silence is finally, mercifully, ended when there is a knock at the door, and the officer leans her head back for a second before sighing and standing, the metal chair she was previously leaning back against scraping annoyingly across the floor. She moves to the door across from you without a word, pulling open the door and handing over the clipboard to an associate before simply walking out. The door begins to swing shut, leaving you blinking rather owlishly at the complete abandonment, before a hand flashes out and grips the side, not pushing the door out further, but instead resting there as the door remains partially closed as voices continue behind the steel. You, on the other hand, [[stay still. This is too much trouble than it’s worth.|stay seated]] [[lean over to see if you can catch a glance. This is your business they’re talking about after all.|peer over]]

You say nothing, lifting your eyes further to stare into the one way mirror across from you. You know they’re watching. You felt it from the moment you came in here. Most of the time interrogation rooms were panic-inducing small things, made to make you feel small and incapable of escape. Rarely did such a non-entity, such a non-noteworthy person in the eyes of the greater law designate such serious security. And you could feel their eyes from the beginning. You level your stare through the glass, through the levels of manipulation you know they’ve put against you from the moment you walked into this building. Through the person staring right back at you. The officer checks through the papers attached to the clipboard, only barely glancing up to slide the pen closer to her while giving you a look that could at best be viewed as suspicious, and you watch in silence as she designates you no response and instead continues to read at a tortuously slow pace. The silence is finally, mercifully, ended when there is a knock at the door, and the officer leans her head back for a second before sighing and standing, the metal chair she was previously leaning back against scraping annoyingly across the floor. She moves to the door across from you without a word, pulling open the door and handing over the clipboard to an associate before simply walking out. The door begins to swing shut, leaving you blinking rather owlishly at the complete abandonment, before a hand flashes out and grips the side, not pushing the door out further, but instead resting there as the door remains partially closed as voices continue behind the steel. You, on the other hand, [[stay still. This is too much trouble than it’s worth.|stay seated]] [[lean over to see if you can catch a glance. This is your business they’re talking about after all.|peer over]]

<<set $atlasrelationshippos = 30>><<set $atlasrelationshipneg = 100>>Maybe this day has been too full of things already. Even saying that, you know you’re in for more, if the clear tension in the room was clear about anything. Still, if you can avoid getting in the midst of all this, the better you know you’ll be in the end. Still, you can’t fight the feeling that things are still going to involve you whether you like it or not. You take the time to gaze around you a bit, frowning at your situation once more before you settle at looking at your hands again, sighing at the tightness of the cuffs once more. They really are taking this seriously. The murmuring stops, and for a moment, there is silence, before the door suddenly opens, a tall figure entering without a word. You lift your head to gaze at the entering person, hoping for any change to your situation. The man who steps into the room is tall, almost egregiously so. Paired with a slender frame which makes him look almost taller, he towers over your seated form with a calculating, cool gaze. His eyes are gray and piercing, pupils pulled into tight slits. Dragon-shifter. He approaches the table, in one hand your papers gripped in a clipboard, and the other, some kind of circular device, a little larger than one of the handcuffs circling your wrist, and much bulkier. “$name le Fay? Is that correct?” His voice is a deep, steady tone, with a strict posture that gave nothing away besides the inherent professionalism he seemed to exude. Meanwhile, his eyes seemed to scan you quietly, gray eyes flickering over your form as if you were anything but human. You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted before you can even start as he speaks again, eyes back on the clipboard and no longer assessing you. You blink in confusion. “You have been put in custody due to illegal transportation across city boundaries without the proper paperwork, and suspected ties to criminal activities. Due to Title XVII, Article 52 under the Shifted-Peoples Justice Act, this requires one $name Le Fay to be detained for further investigation. These are extremely serious charges pitted against you, and you may either wait until your appointed court date, in which you must pay in full, or-“ “Wait! Wait hold-hold on there what? But I haven’t done anything?” You interrupt back, now much more tense than before as you try to get any word in against the man who is now spouting the most long-winded legal jargon you’ve ever heard. But it falls flat as he simply continues, charging on like you’ve said nothing while turning over a page or two in your documents. “Must pay in full or you will be detained until bail can be paid fully. Is this clear?” He finally finishes, pulling his eyes away from the paper back down to you. You blink again, brain slowly catching up with his words. [[“Can we please just slow down? I’m sorry I don’t- I don’t understand.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“And if I don’t?” You growl, wishing for anything in the world to be able to stand and confront him face to face.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Jesus who put the stick up your ass?” You frown, never one to hesitate on sniping back.][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[You swallow, shrinking back into your chair.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You set your jaw, refusing an answer and instead staring him straight on.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $atlasrelationshippos = 30>><<set $atlasrelationshipneg = 100>>Curiosity wasn’t known for its subtlety. You can’t help it- if they wanted to keep things really private why would they keep the door cracked and speak so closely to it? Besides, you can hardly ignore it if they’re talking about you. Maybe you’ll get a better answer to why you’re being held in the first place. “Port of entry suspicion” your ass. You lean over just enough to catch a glance inside the crack of the door, watching a tall shape discuss with the officer you caught a glance of, the one with your papers. Something is exchanged between them, their new words still unclear to you, but you catch sight of something else handed over to the taller figure, the person still holding open the door, and hear a quick murmur of speech you can recognize. <<if $disability is "hoh">>At the very least, you’ve gotten very good at reading lips.<</if>> “-sure this model is required?” “Of course. It’s the most effective…” A sigh, and suddenly, before you can move, the door is pushed open. You yank yourself back to your proper seated position, and swallow nervously as the tall figure enters. The man who steps into the room is tall, almost egregiously so. Paired with a slender frame which makes him look almost taller, he towers over your seated form with a calculating, cool gaze. His eyes are gray and piercing, pupils pulled into tight slits. Dragon-shifter. A gaze that widens a bit at your quick startle into place before turning into a deep, unamused frown. The tone has been set, it seems. He approaches the table, in one hand your papers gripped in a clipboard, and the other, some kind of circular device, a little larger than one of the handcuffs circling your wrist, and much bulkier. “$name le Fay? Is that correct?” His voice is a deep, steady tone, with a strict posture that gave nothing away besides the inherent professionalism he seemed to exude. Meanwhile, his eyes seemed to scan you quietly, gray eyes flickering over your form as if you were anything but human. You open your mouth to respond, but are interrupted before you can even start as he speaks again, eyes back on the clipboard and no longer assessing you. You blink in confusion. “You have been put in custody due to illegal transportation across city boundaries without the proper paperwork, and suspected ties to criminal activities. Due to Title XVII, Article 52 under the Shifted-Peoples Justice Act, this requires one $name Le Fay to be detained for further investigation. These are extremely serious charges pitted against you, and you may either wait until your appointed court date, in which you must pay in full, or-“ “Wait! Wait hold-hold on there what? But I haven’t done anything?” You interrupt back, now much more tense than before as you try to get any word in against the man who is now spouting the most long-winded legal jargon you’ve ever heard. But it falls flat as he simply continues, charging on like you’ve said nothing while turning over a page or two in your documents. “Must pay in full or you will be detained until bail can be paid fully. Is this clear?” He finally finishes, pulling his eyes away from the paper back down to you. You blink again, brain slowly catching up with his words. [[“Can we please just slow down? I’m sorry I don’t- I don’t understand.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“And if I don’t?” You growl, wishing for anything in the world to be able to stand and confront him face to face.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Jesus who put the stick up your ass?” You frown, never one to hesitate on sniping back.][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[You swallow, shrinking back into your chair.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You set your jaw, refusing an answer and instead staring him straight on.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“Can we please just slow down? I’m sorry I don’t- I don’t understand.” You’re already trying to reason with him, opening your hands in a placating manner to try and settle in so you can catch up with the situation. The man in front of you doesn’t seem to understand the need for hesitation, raising an eyebrow as you struggle to form your worry into words without sounding completely immature. “I- I just got into town, I don’t have the money on me to pay for a trial, I don’t-“ You begin, already shaking your head as you roll your shoulders and try to pace things out. “There is another option.” “Huh?” You perk up, grateful for once for the interruption. The man, dressed too smartly in a long trench coat and tight turtleneck to be an officer, and too forthcoming to be a detective, sets your papers down, the clack of the clipboard against the cold table far too loud and far too threatening than it has any right to be. “If you agree to it, you can volunteer for the King Institute for a certain number of hours or until you prove your innocence. Consider it a whistleblower case with a public volunteer service incentive.” He explains, again leaving little time between his words to allow for interruption, as if he had little patience otherwise. Or maybe a lot of experience. “Any questions?” You hesitate. “I want to talk to a lawyer.” You request, steeling yourself the best you can. And steel yourself you should, as the man seems prepared for this. “According to that same Shifted-Peoples Justice Act, only once an individuals’ term of service during a given period is up may they return to a publicly-given trial, as until then all matters are to be taken by their respective authoritative systems. The King Institute, this time, is yours.” He responds, once again reverting to a form of speaking that fails to inspire any hope in you. This has got to be a scam of some kind. A joke maybe? You’re not sure who could possibly pull something like this but it’s better than the alternative- that you really are trapped here without a single way out, that the trap has finally snapped shut. You fight the rising feeling of sickness. “Listen Le Fay.” You cringe inwardly at his address towards you. “If you behave for now I can answer more questions once we’ve gotten on our way and collected the necessary supplies to begin. You’re in this just as much as I am.” At his words, you manage a slight frown, but can’t really find it in you to argue this point right now. [[“What is the King Institute?”]] [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”]] [[“Am I just going in blind?”]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos -=10)>>“And if I don’t?” You growl, wishing for anything in the world to be able to stand and confront him face to face. But the best you can do is a quick lash at your restraints, a movement that causes the man to flick his eyes downwards, a flash of something crossing his eyes before he furrows his brow, glaring at you right back. “I’d suggest keeping your //claws// to yourself. You’d only be making this worse for yourself, and you’re already in more trouble than I think you know, Le Fay.” He spits back, speaking your name as if speaking down to a child. Oh yeah. This guy sucks. “I don’t have the cash. Or did you forget that I only just got into town?” You respond, raising an eyebrow and settling into your chair. What can this guy really get on you? “Fine. There is another option.” The man, dressed too smartly in a long trench coat and tight turtleneck to be an officer, and too forthcoming to be a detective, sets your papers down, the clack of the clipboard against the cold table far too loud and far too threatening than it has any right to be. “If you agree to it, you can volunteer for the King Institute for a certain number of hours or until you prove your innocence. Consider it a whistleblower case with a public volunteer service incentive.” He explains, again leaving little time between his words to allow for interruption, as if he had little patience otherwise. Or maybe a lot of experience. “Any questions?” You hesitate. “I want to talk to a lawyer.” You request, steeling yourself the best you can. And steel yourself you should, as the man seems prepared for this. “According to that same Shifted-Peoples Justice Act, only once an individuals’ term of service during a given period is up may they return to a publicly-given trial, as until then all matters are to be taken by their respective authoritative systems. The King Institute, this time, is yours.” He responds, once again reverting to a form of speaking that fails to inspire any hope in you. This has got to be a scam of some kind. A joke maybe? You’re not sure who could possibly pull something like this but it’s better than the alternative- that you really are trapped here without a single way out, that the trap has finally snapped shut. You fight the rising feeling of sickness. “Listen Le Fay.” You cringe inwardly at his address towards you. “If you behave for now I can answer more questions once we’ve gotten on our way and collected the necessary supplies to begin. You’re in this just as much as I am.” At his words, you manage a slight frown, but can’t really find it in you to argue this point right now. [[“What is the King Institute?”]] [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”]] [[“Am I just going in blind?”]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos -=10)>>“Jesus who put the stick up your ass?” You frown, never one to hesitate on sniping back. You try leaning further back into your chair and end up with a smirk plastered across your face as the man pauses, seemingly caught off guard by your response. He blinks, gray eyes searching your face for any cue as a rare moment of silence envelops the room, a pause of awkwardness to break up the intensity of the actual situation. “Wh….” He starts, now squinting in annoyance as he finally stands up a bit straighter and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Is what I just told you clear?” “Sorry chief. Don’t have the cash on me. I just got into town, settling in..” You wave your hands a little for added effect. “You know how it is.” The man clears his throat and adjusts his collar, gathering his mask of professionalism as he stares down at you again, eyes analytical but now clear. “There is another option.” The man, dressed too smartly in a long trench coat and tight turtleneck to be an officer, and too forthcoming to be a detective, sets your papers down, the clack of the clipboard against the cold table far too loud and far too threatening than it has any right to be. “If you agree to it, you can volunteer for the King Institute for a certain number of hours or until you prove your innocence. Consider it a whistleblower case with a public volunteer service incentive.” He explains, again leaving little time between his words to allow for interruption, as if he had little patience otherwise. Or maybe a lot of experience. “Any questions?” You hesitate. “I want to talk to a lawyer.” You request, steeling yourself the best you can. And steel yourself you should, as the man seems prepared for this. “According to that same Shifted-Peoples Justice Act, only once an individuals’ term of service during a given period is up may they return to a publicly-given trial, as until then all matters are to be taken by their respective authoritative systems. The King Institute, this time, is yours.” He responds, once again reverting to a form of speaking that fails to inspire any hope in you. This has got to be a scam of some kind. A joke maybe? You’re not sure who could possibly pull something like this but it’s better than the alternative- that you really are trapped here without a single way out, that the trap has finally snapped shut. You fight the rising feeling of sickness. “Listen Le Fay.” You cringe inwardly at his address towards you. “If you behave for now I can answer more questions once we’ve gotten on our way and collected the necessary supplies to begin. You’re in this just as much as I am.” At his words, you manage a slight frown, but can’t really find it in you to argue this point right now. [[“What is the King Institute?”]] [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”]] [[“Am I just going in blind?”]]

You swallow, shrinking back into your chair. You’re sure the man will just continue speaking regardless of your answer, and quite frankly, the entire situation is entirely too intense for you right now. The move itself, into an entirely new and foreign city no less, has already been entirely too stressful, and the last thing you needed was to be snapped up right before you even made it across the bridge into the city border. Now to have this intimidating stranger tossing you into the deep end? You stare across the floor, remaining quiet. There is a brief moment of silence between you two, where you imagined instead that there’d be yelling replaced now by silence. It almost makes it worse. “Hey.” The stranger breaks the silence, tone still firm but now laced with something more… well you can’t really place it. You bite back the knot of worry in your stomach and raise your eyes to meet his. You can’t place the look in his eyes either. You aren’t so sure it’s gentle. “I can go over this again later. But this is important. Clear?” He offers, brow still slightly furrowed in seriousness, but you get the strength to nod. He nods back. “I don’t- I don’t really…. have the funds to pay for a trial. I spent a lot of it just getting here.” You explain, voice hesitant until you take a deeper breath. You stare back at your hands, rubbing one thumb over the other in a soothing motion. “There is another option.” The man, dressed too smartly in a long trench coat and tight turtleneck to be an officer, and too forthcoming to be a detective, sets your papers down, the clack of the clipboard against the cold table far too loud and far too threatening than it has any right to be. “If you agree to it, you can volunteer for the King Institute for a certain number of hours or until you prove your innocence. Consider it a whistleblower case with a public volunteer service incentive.” He explains, again leaving little time between his words to allow for interruption, as if he had little patience otherwise. Or maybe a lot of experience. “Any questions?” You hesitate. “I want to talk to a lawyer.” You request, steeling yourself the best you can. And steel yourself you should, as the man seems prepared for this. “According to that same Shifted-Peoples Justice Act, only once an individuals’ term of service during a given period is up may they return to a publicly-given trial, as until then all matters are to be taken by their respective authoritative systems. The King Institute, this time, is yours.” He responds, once again reverting to a form of speaking that fails to inspire any hope in you. This has got to be a scam of some kind. A joke maybe? You’re not sure who could possibly pull something like this but it’s better than the alternative- that you really are trapped here without a single way out, that the trap has finally snapped shut. You fight the rising feeling of sickness. “Listen Le Fay.” You cringe inwardly at his address towards you. “If you behave for now I can answer more questions once we’ve gotten on our way and collected the necessary supplies to begin. You’re in this just as much as I am.” At his words, you manage a slight frown, but can’t really find it in you to argue this point right now. [[“What is the King Institute?”]] [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”]] [[“Am I just going in blind?”]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos -=10)>>You set your jaw, refusing an answer and instead staring him straight on. If this man thinks he can intimidate you, then he is surely mistaken. The silence is…intense, the way the two of you refuse to give even an inch. Finally, with great satisfaction, you watch as the stranger lets out a frustrated huff and breaks the eye contact to roll his eyes. He shakes his head, uttering something under his breath that you can’t make out. “Are you going to cooperate <<if $sirmaam is true>>$sirmaam<</if>>? I think you’ll find me much more…amicable if we work together on this.” He spoke, breaking the silence with the slightest hint of what could be heard as irritability. You stay silent for a minute more, then you lean back in your chair, the cold steel biting into your back as if everything in this room was out to harm you. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. “I don’t have the money for trial.” You stated simply, tilting your head just ever so slightly to the side, waiting for the response from the person who seemed to know everything. Or wanted everyone to think that he did. He squints, seeming to calculate just how he should respond, taking on the intense consideration one would see in a professional chess player. “Alright. Then there is another option.” The man, dressed too smartly in a long trench coat and tight turtleneck to be an officer, and too forthcoming to be a detective, sets your papers down, the clack of the clipboard against the cold table far too loud and far too threatening than it has any right to be. “If you agree to it, you can volunteer for the King Institute for a certain number of hours or until you prove your innocence. Consider it a whistleblower case with a public volunteer service incentive.” He explains, again leaving little time between his words to allow for interruption, as if he had little patience otherwise. Or maybe a lot of experience. “Any questions?” You hesitate. “I want to talk to a lawyer.” You request, steeling yourself the best you can. And steel yourself you should, as the man seems prepared for this. “According to that same Shifted-Peoples Justice Act, only once an individuals’ term of service during a given period is up may they return to a publicly-given trial, as until then all matters are to be taken by their respective authoritative systems. The King Institute, this time, is yours.” He responds, once again reverting to a form of speaking that fails to inspire any hope in you. This has got to be a scam of some kind. A joke maybe? You’re not sure who could possibly pull something like this but it’s better than the alternative- that you really are trapped here without a single way out, that the trap has finally snapped shut. You fight the rising feeling of sickness. “Listen Le Fay.” You cringe inwardly at his address towards you. “If you behave for now I can answer more questions once we’ve gotten on our way and collected the necessary supplies to begin. You’re in this just as much as I am.” At his words, you manage a slight frown, but can’t really find it in you to argue this point right now. [[“What is the King Institute?”]] [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”]] [[“Am I just going in blind?”]]

“What is the King Institute?” You ask, trying to get a big one out of the way. All this talk about what sounded like a large company in the hands of police business didn’t sit in your stomach well. Especially if they were involved enough to basically sidestep the justice system and sign you up. How often did this happen? The man sucks in a breath to seemingly prepare for an explanation. Oh no. “The King Institute is a science and justice focused institution with strong community-based efforts and a long history of charitable city-wide work. They work tirelessly to not only improve our great city’s advancements in the tech and medical world, but also have a strong sense of preservation of the peace, and strive always to uphold the values of the law and order within Avalon City.” He finishes, puffing out his chest and folding his arms behind his back in a perfect show of righteousness. You just stare. After a few seconds of painfully long silence, the stranger finally opens his eyes, seemingly confused as if he was waiting for applause or something similar. When he notices your staring, his shoulders slump slightly, deflating as he acknowledges the awkwardness in the room. He clears his throat. “It’s a large technology and private defense company.” He summarizes, looking much more defeated than before. Well that was a nightmare to sit through. At least you understand things better. Still, there is an odd discomfort the answer leaves you with, a broad, just vague enough to miss explanation that evades you, leaving you out in the cold. You focus on your next question. [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”|inst work q]] [[“Am I just going in blind?”|blind inst q]]

“What work would I be doing for the Institute?” The man nods, thinking over how to respond to this question more than any others. He lets out a small hum. “Working with the Institute means a wider variety of things than I’m sure you’re used to—” You try very hard to let that assumption go. “—but as a volunteer you will be responsible for keeping pace with others in your field and learning on the job.” You open your hands to ask for more, which feels like pulling teeth from this man who wants to speak like the instructions manual of a picture-less Lego set. Yet he relents. “You will be working to conserve the peace, in a sense. Due to your…. specific capabilities, you would be responsible for the detainment and pursuit of justice in our community along with the assets of the Institute, and can be assigned to certain high-risk threats.” He finishes with a strict nod. So you’re going to be fighting for them, you suppose. The knot in your throat tightens. [[“What is the King Institute?”|what is q]] [[“Am I just going in blind?”|blind q]]

“Am I just going in blind?” You ask, a bit exasperated. The man is quicker to shake his head. “No. You’ll have all your needs provided to you, including resources for your work, a partner, and a temporary living space for however long you may need it.” He responds, nodding to himself a bit before crossing his arms in waiting for your response. “A partner? Who?” You ask, interest piqued by the sudden confirmation that you will not, unlike you had worried, be alone in this. With a partner assigned by these people though, you hesitate to get too excited. This makes the stranger pause, but for a moment, and you see the already-tense man grow just the slightest bit more on guard. You almost open your mouth to say something before he speaks again. “Atlas Drake.” He finishes without another word. There is an air of discomfort in the air, one you can’t quite pin down. Trying to put the awkwardness aside, you rack your mind for other questions. [[“What is the King Institute?”|what king q]] [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”|work what]]

“Am I just going in blind?” You ask, a bit exasperated. The man is quicker to shake his head. “No. You’ll have all your needs provided to you, including resources for your work, a partner, and a temporary living space for however long you may need it.” He responds, nodding to himself a bit before crossing his arms in waiting for your response. “A partner? Who?” You ask, interest piqued by the sudden confirmation that you will not, unlike you had worried, be alone in this. With a partner assigned by these people though, you hesitate to get too excited. This makes the stranger pause, but for a moment, and you see the already-tense man grow just the slightest bit more on guard. You almost open your mouth to say something before he speaks again. “Atlas Drake.” He finishes without another word. There is an air of discomfort in the air, one you can’t quite pin down. Trying to put the awkwardness aside, you rack your mind for other questions. [[“What work would I be doing for the Institute?”|inst work q2]]

“What work would I be doing for the Institute?” The man nods, thinking over how to respond to this question more than any others. He lets out a small hum. “Working with the Institute means a wider variety of things than I’m sure you’re used to-“ You try very hard to let that assumption go. “-but as a volunteer you will be responsible for keeping pace with others in your field and learning on the job.” You open your hands to ask for more, which feels like pulling teeth from this man who wants to speak like the instructions manual of a picture-less Lego set. Yet he relents. “You will be working to conserve the peace, in a sense. Due to your….specific capabilities, you would be responsible for the detainment and pursuit of justice in our community along with the assets of the Institute, and can be assigned to certain high-risk threats.” He finishes with a strict nod. So you’re going to be fighting for them, you suppose. The knot in your throat tightens. You think of your final question. [["Do I really have a choice?"]]

“Do I really have a choice?” The silence that had been lingering on the verges of the conversation, like a predator waiting in the darkness, finally pounces, lurching the conversation to a halt. You’ve asked the big question. The one that had been lurking in the back of your mind just like the claws of deep silence that pierce you even now. But with speaking that question, with letting this beast return to the awareness of the people within that room, could you really fight the feeling that you already knew the answer? The man seems to know as well. Maybe even know that you know. For the first time, you see what looks like a moment of solemnity overcome him, like for but a moment you two are on the completely same page. Why then, then instead of feeling freeing, like you’re finally understanding and finally moving forwards, does it feel like those claws are just digging deeper and deeper? You can’t find the capability to breathe. “No.” You let out your breath, eyes unfocusing as similarly to the minuscule moment of respite from expectations the man gave you, you now cannot even bother to worry about keeping up yourself. So that’s it then. Whatever may come next, you truly have no say in it. Part of you is furious, how dare this man- this absolute //stranger// come in and seal your fate like this with one word? With one step into the room? Or maybe it was sealed the moment you stepped foot into this city, a place promising respite from the onslaught of nightmares that had haunted you now revealed as a wire trap, suffocating you entirely. “Drake.” A voice snaps you out of your spiral, one that had gone uninterrupted for far too long, as you raise your head to spot the now new officer who enters the room. You take a moment to recognize his words, looking to the man who interrogated you with a new understanding. [[This guy…is your new partner it seems.]]

Oh. You can’t think of anything to say, reverting to silence as you watched on. The thought of teaming up with this man, Atlas, certainly does not sit perfectly well with you considering his prior standoffishness towards you, but you don’t particularly feel the need to start something about it now. The strange solemness that had consumed the room earlier was now gone, now instead replaced by the prior tenseness now that the new officer had arrived. Atlas tenses back up, nodding quietly to the officer who had spoken his last name who now enters entirely, picking your papers off of the table to examine them himself. He reads through it for a moment, ever so often glancing back between the papers and you. You are uncomfortably aware of the judgement in his stare. “Everything should be set up for you back at the Institute. Talk to the people on floor seven.” The officer said plainly, handing the clipboard back to Atlas and ignoring you entirely. Before leaving, however, he turned his back to you, leaning slightly up towards Atlas and and seeming to murmur something to him. <<if $disability is "hoh">> //Clever//, you think. Just enough so you can’t see his mouth moving.<</if>> Whatever is said, you can’t see the effect it has on Atlas, the same cold mask slipping over his features as it had done the moment another person had walked into the room. The officer finally steps out, leaving you two be for the second time today. Thankfully, the pause this time is much shorter. Atlas nods to himself and picks his way over to you, taking the strange circular device with him. He makes a motion with his finger, asking you to raise your head. To bare your throat. [[Refuse][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[Comply][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

As soon as he made the motion, your blood ran cold. <<if $species is "frostspitter">> Colder than usual.<</if>> You yank yourself back rather quickly, Atlas pausing in the process. You can’t fully make out the object, but the shiny bits of metal gleam threateningly in the harsh light of the fluorescent above. It’s too sharp. Too cold. Too tight. “I-“ Atlas starts, eyes similarly wide to yours. He pauses for a second before continuing as he seems to think of his words now. “It’s…. it’s a precaution. And necessary. I swear.” He explains, holding out both hands, one lifted towards the ceiling and the other now revealing the object in full. Even though you didn’t have much of an understanding of the object, a better look at it certainly helped calm your rapidly beating heart. At least, in confirming what it //wasn’t.// The device was larger than your hand, a circular shape though not incredibly thick, has various strange colored facets and bits to it that do not stick out but break up the otherwise smooth surface. Seeing it, though you’re still not comfortable, releases some tenseness from your shoulders just slightly. Just enough to not be so violently pitted against the handcuffs. “It’s a device that cancels out the inherent biology in dragon-shifters. Holds your body in one confined state of being by shutting down the genes within yourself that make you transform. Basically, it should temporarily balance your selves and keep any… well any flare ups from happening.” Atlas finished. He hadn’t stepped backwards to give you any room, preferring to instead keep an eye on you, and even now still hovered about you slightly. <<if $dragonfear is true>>Dampens your….? You hesitate, suddenly put way off kilter by the news. You have never heard of anything like this before, the concept, you assume, would’ve been more wide spread than just Avalon city. Still, by the serious look in Atlas’s eyes and the sleek professional look of the device, you can tell that this is far from a fantasy. An out. Your mouth is dry. “Are you sure?” You ask, voice suddenly hoarse. It’s isn’t a cure- you’ve spent too long hoping and wishing to believe in a complete cure anytime soon. But a break? The ability to not fear your own skin? To fear your own self? You’d be a fool not to take it. [[You nod.]]<</if>><<if $dragonfear is false>>You narrow your eyes. You’ve heard this spiel before. People have promised before and again an end to this part of you, to some stop of the way that you are, to the way that you live. A temporary quelling to it sounds pretty improbable, but you wouldn’t put it past a large private company to have some type of specialized technology. Besides, it’s not like Atlas has any reason to lie. Seems quite incapable of it, really. Still, the concept of somehow stopping your shifting ability sounds…wrong. You can’t think of a better way to put it. Some part of you, deeper and hidden away, growls in defiance. Growls in self-preservation maybe. You frown and shake your head. Atlas sighs but sets his jaw, seeming to be ready for this response. The startled look from before has been completely wiped from his expression. “Listen. You can’t leave this station without this device. You’re already a volunteer, and if you act //professionally// here with me, bear with me a little longer, then maybe I can talk to my higher-ups and get them to be more lax with these rules.” He explains. Despite the…. well kinder than usual words, his eyes are still dark. That look worries you. You grind your teeth for a second, looking away, before you let out a soft, private sigh that dies in the air between you two. So be it. You look up at him, shoulders tight. [[You nod.]]<</if>>

The metal shines against the reflection of your widened eyes like scalpel, cold and sharp against the already isolating room. For a moment, you cannot help your trembling hands, even if you already know you don’t have a chance of getting out of this. Atlas, for his part, imparts the smallest kindness like it takes all of him, body and soul. “It’s a device that cancels out the inherent biology in dragon-shifters. Holds your body in one confined state of being by shutting down the genes within yourself that make you transform. Basically, it should temporarily balance your selves and keep any… well any flare ups from happening.” Atlas finished. He hadn’t stepped backwards to give you any room, preferring to instead keep an eye on you, and even now still hovered about you slightly. <<if $dragonfear is true>>Already in the middle of lifting your head, you pause. Not out of rejection though, but in reaction to the startling realization as his words catch up to you. Dampens your….? Your eyes waver, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. But he stares back, paused now, but in a silent, tight-jawed patience as he waits for the pieces to fit together for you. “R-really? A…a dampener?” You ask. //A way out?// You think. Atlas simply nods and you’ve already tilted your neck back further. You don’t even want to hesitate. If this…thing can really put some dampener on your abilities, put some temporary end to this madness you always feel lurking just beneath your skin, you would take any opportunity to rid yourself of it. You feel a knot in your throat form. [[You’re not sure why.|You nod.]]<</if>><<if $dragonfear is false>>There is a moment where every part of your body screams at you to break out and just run. Leave the place far behind you and never look back, avoid the city at all costs, despite everything it took you to come here. But another part of you knows that there’s no way out of this. No reasonable way you could make it through those doors, make it out of these cuffs and not be dragged into a legal whirlwind of your own making. You know you couldn’t afford the first process anyways. Even if you were in the right. You think Atlas knows this too. You frown, but otherwise do not put up much of a hassle as you bury that deep fear in you down and close your eyes, refusing to catch sight of the metal cage as it looms closer and closer. A wire trap, tightening around your windpipe. You’ll never be rid of it really. [[Why try to pretend now.|You nod.]]<</if>>

Atlas secures the device around your throat. As the cold metal slips around your neck, you suppress a shiver before rolling your shoulders and slowly lifting your hand to the thing as Atlas pulls away. The device is less thick than it looked like, and sliding your thumb over it now, the slight ridges and bumps aren’t large enough to really pull or grip at. But it doesn’t restrict your breathing, and if anything, only really feels like a weighty presence by your knowledge of it. Atlas, now stepped back, looks over you for a moment, nodding to himself before reaching into his pocket, plucking out a key, and shuffling your handcuffs free with a slight click. You instantly pull your hands back, rubbing at your wrists, but before Atlas can pull back you can’t help but notice an old scar crossing over the bottom right side of his jaw inwards towards his cheek. “Ready then?” [[“As I’ll ever be.” You half sigh, readying yourself and standing with him.][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Don’t really have a choice, remember?” You hiss, already standing and insisting on meeting his gaze so you can glare at him all the more.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[You look down, trying to catch a glance at the collar and hooking a thumb just barely beneath it. “Huh. Kinky.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[You nod, hesitating far longer than your response should’ve allowed time for before you stand.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing and stand, eyes firmly on the door out.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“As I’ll ever be.” You half sigh, readying yourself and standing with him. Atlas nods, seeming to ignore the obvious hesitance in your voice, and you two exit the room, leaving behind the tight seclusion of that place in exchange for the breath of escape into a world unknown. Walking through the station feels like not only walking into the belly of the beast, but prodding the tongue in hopes it’ll swallow you whole. You were bustled into the interrogation room rather quickly, a part of the already rushed process that had jostled you even further, and didn’t have much time to linger inside of the main lobby of the police station. Being here now, you wanted to linger even less. Eyes followed you the whole way down. Very few people continued to work uninterrupted, while everyone else stared at you and your new partner with various looks, none of which you were too keen on meeting. Expressions ranging from fear, to anger, to downright disgust, all laid behind placid eyes and passing glances. Like their feelings were so justified that such a passing glance was to be expected. Atlas walked at regular pace through it all, directly focused on the doors in front without pausing to talk with anyone else. He didn’t seem to even notice the stares. How could he not though, being as focused as it was? You’d been in many places before, learning a wide variety of how people treated you, but never was it this centralized. Never this alienating. You scratch at your neck. Relief comes in the form of an opened door and silence. You take it like escaping from the bowels of hell. “Welcome, officially, I guess- to Avalon City Le Fay.” [[Next|city reveal]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos -=10)>>“Don’t really have a choice, remember?” You hiss, already standing and insisting on meeting his gaze so you can glare at him all the more. Atlas, for once, doesn’t respond, instead glaring right back at you, eyes dull and cold. He glances from your eyes to the collar, a silent //you know exactly where you stand//, and he pulls away, leading the way outside. Walking through the station feels like not only walking into the belly of the beast, but prodding the tongue in hopes it’ll swallow you whole. You were bustled into the interrogation room rather quickly, a part of the already rushed process that had jostled you even further, and didn’t have much time to linger inside of the main lobby of the police station. Being here now, you wanted to linger even less. Eyes followed you the whole way down. Very few people continued to work uninterrupted, while everyone else stared at you and your new partner with various looks, none of which you were too keen on meeting. Expressions ranging from fear, to anger, to downright disgust, all laid behind placid eyes and passing glances. Like their feelings were so justified that such a passing glance was to be expected. Atlas walked at regular pace through it all, directly focused on the doors in front without pausing to talk with anyone else. He didn’t seem to even notice the stares. How could he not though, being as focused as it was? You’d been in many places before, learning a wide variety of how people treated you, but never was it this centralized. Never this alienating. You scratch at your neck. Relief comes in the form of an opened door and silence. You take it like escaping from the bowels of hell. “Welcome, officially, I guess- to Avalon City Le Fay.” [[Next|city reveal]]

You look down, trying to catch a glance at the collar and hooking a thumb just barely beneath it. “Huh. Kinky.” Atlas pauses, for a moment looking genuinely caught off guard, before letting out a loud groan and rolling his eyes, turning around completely and heading towards the door. Walking through the station feels like not only walking into the belly of the beast, but prodding the tongue in hopes it’ll swallow you whole. You were bustled into the interrogation room rather quickly, a part of the already rushed process that had jostled you even further, and didn’t have much time to linger inside of the main lobby of the police station. Being here now, you wanted to linger even less. Eyes followed you the whole way down. Very few people continued to work uninterrupted, while everyone else stared at you and your new partner with various looks, none of which you were too keen on meeting. Expressions ranging from fear, to anger, to downright disgust, all laid behind placid eyes and passing glances. Like their feelings were so justified that such a passing glance was to be expected. Atlas walked at regular pace through it all, directly focused on the doors in front without pausing to talk with anyone else. He didn’t seem to even notice the stares. How could he not though, being as focused as it was? You’d been in many places before, learning a wide variety of how people treated you, but never was it this centralized. Never this alienating. You scratch at your neck. Relief comes in the form of an opened door and silence. You take it like escaping from the bowels of hell. “Welcome, officially, I guess- to Avalon City Le Fay.” [[Next|city reveal]]

You nod, hesitating far longer than your response should’ve allowed time for before you stand. Your new partner says nothing, turning around and leading the way outside of the room. You pause for a moment, rubbing at your wrists, even though the handcuffs no longer hold them restrained. Into the unknown you suppose. You follow. Walking through the station feels like not only walking into the belly of the beast, but prodding the tongue in hopes it’ll swallow you whole. You were bustled into the interrogation room rather quickly, a part of the already rushed process that had jostled you even further, and didn’t have much time to linger inside of the main lobby of the police station. Being here now, you wanted to linger even less. Eyes followed you the whole way down. Very few people continued to work uninterrupted, while everyone else stared at you and your new partner with various looks, none of which you were too keen on meeting. Expressions ranging from fear, to anger, to downright disgust, all laid behind placid eyes and passing glances. Like their feelings were so justified that such a passing glance was to be expected. Atlas walked at regular pace through it all, directly focused on the doors in front without pausing to talk with anyone else. He didn’t seem to even notice the stares. How could he not though, being as focused as it was? You’d been in many places before, learning a wide variety of how people treated you, but never was it this centralized. Never this alienating. You scratch at your neck. Relief comes in the form of an opened door and silence. You take it like escaping from the bowels of hell. “Welcome, officially, I guess— to Avalon City Le Fay.” [[Next|city reveal]]

You say nothing and stand, eyes firmly on the door out. Atlas pauses, noting this rigid silence, and mutters something under his breath, turning before you can catch a whiff of it and leading the way outside. You huff. Outside it is then. Walking through the station feels like not only walking into the belly of the beast, but prodding the tongue in hopes it’ll swallow you whole. You were bustled into the interrogation room rather quickly, a part of the already rushed process that had jostled you even further, and didn’t have much time to linger inside of the main lobby of the police station. Being here now, you wanted to linger even less. Eyes followed you the whole way down. Very few people continued to work uninterrupted, while everyone else stared at you and your new partner with various looks, none of which you were too keen on meeting. Expressions ranging from fear, to anger, to downright disgust, all laid behind placid eyes and passing glances. Like their feelings were so justified that such a passing glance was to be expected. Atlas walked at regular pace through it all, directly focused on the doors in front without pausing to talk with anyone else. He didn’t seem to even notice the stares. How could he not though, being as focused as it was? You’d been in many places before, learning a wide variety of how people treated you, but never was it this centralized. Never this alienating. You scratch at your neck. Relief comes in the form of an opened door and silence. You take it like escaping from the bowels of hell. “Welcome, officially, I guess- to Avalon City Le Fay.” [[Next|city reveal]]

You have to lift a hand to your face to block out the sun at first. A large flapping sound suddenly startles you, and you have time to take a jump back as something large moves in front of you. It blocks out the bright light above you for just long enough so you can catch a glance of the large venomspitter with pale scales, wings splayed out as they take off, the filters of sunlight blinding you in between the massive flaps of wings. “Sorry!” You faintly hear their voice as they take off high into the sky. As you recover, blinking your eyes to adjust to the light, the wind around you settles. What you see next has you dropping your hand. In front of you sprawls one of the largest cities you have ever seen. The station sits beneath towering buildings of steel and concrete, spiraling into the wide blue sky which, upon further inspection, was spotted with various sparse figures, dragons spread out across the sky like dots. You watch as people below them move from place to place, everyone flowing up and out of sidewalks, out of streets, into cars and through the late day traffic. It was alive. You couldn’t think of any other word to put it. Teeming with people full of their own places to be, their own goals to fulfill. You frown. And here you were. Already stuck to your own toil. “Come on then. We’ll drive to the Institute and patrol from there.” Atlas explains, not waiting for a response as he moves for the station parking lot to your left. You blink at him, looking back to the city laid out in front of you. If there was any moment to leave, now would be it, right? <<if $species is "lightningspitter">>Your skin feels prickly beneath your touch, as if the sky was calling to you. The lightning’s illumination would welcome you.<</if>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>There is a second where you imagine how quickly you could leap out of here. To leave nothing but ice and fog behind.<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>Your very breath feels warmer than usual. Who could really stop you if you fled, flames licking at your heels?<</if>><<if $species is "venomspitter">>The air feels nothing less than freeing as it whisks across your face. You could manage it. Let the shadows and the endless canopy above you shelter your hide.<</if>> “Le Fay?” You turn your head. Atlas is waiting beside an old beater-type car, stuck in place as he waits for you to follow. What felt like a burning in your forehead fades. You don’t have the chance to leave now. Not with this…thing still wrapped around your neck. Not with this man watching your every move. Maybe soon. But not now. Walking over to Atlas, you catch one last glance over your shoulder. You aren’t leaving the city— god knows the exact opposite is true, yet you can’t help but feel the walls closing in on you, even as you take a deep breath of the cool air around you. But you turn nevertheless, stepping over to the old car now in front of you. “Hop in. Shouldn’t be a long drive.” Atlas requests, as if you needed to be given orders for every small thing. You frown. Your partner steps into the front seat, door opening and closing with a squeak that makes you cringe. How this man can hold himself to such a high standard and yet drive a car like this evades you, but you follow suit with a sigh, entering the passenger side door with a creak. Before long, you head out, the old car managing along just fine (with the odd noise or two) as you pull away from the station. The weight on your chest lessens considerably as you drive from the area, as if the very eyes of the station leave your back the further and further you drive away. You let out a breath and settle back slightly into your seat, now instead inspecting the view. Outside the car windows, you caught glimpses of small curbside bodegas, funny shaped bookstores, and all speckles of life and noise dotting the streets. Someone was walking their tiny dog, so small you easily lost track of it in the crowd, while someone else blasted loud music from their window somewhere above you. It wasn’t necessarily a surprising sight, being a city and all, but for some reason you could still feel the prickle activity all around you even within the vehicle. Speaking of. You take a glance over at Atlas, who drives the car with a tight grip, carefully maneuvering the car through the traffic. He says nothing. [[“So….where are you from?” You ask, perking up in your seat.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Where’s the scar from?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and staring straight ahead.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Careful, grip that steering wheel any harder and you’ll make me think you hate it.” You chuckle, relaxing back slightly into the seat.][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“You um…” You start, trailing off before you can finish as the silence gets to you once again.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You say nothing. He wants to play like this? Fine. You will too.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“So….where are you from?” You ask, perking up in your seat. It seems like you’ll have to make the first step here, so be it. Atlas doesn’t answer at first. Or for a while after. Or even longer after that. You give him a look, a pained, awkward smile to try and encourage something, anything in response. He doesn’t even cut a glance in your direction, perpetual frown on his face as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Atlas?” You prompt, leaning forwards slightly into his view. Finally, he glances in your direction. “Are you really that determined to pester me with meaningless small talk?” He bit back, eyes again focused on the road as he set his shoulders. Your smile falters. Ow. Alright. You lean back again, swallowing down the discomfort. Must be a sore spot. [[“Just focus, alright?”|kids view]]

“Where’s the scar from?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and staring straight ahead. You don’t really ask the question expecting an answer. In fact, when you look over to Atlas for a moment, you hope to find that the question only pissed him off. And ever predictable, it did. His hands are clenched tighter over the steering wheel, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed towards the road ahead of him. “Do you just enjoy putting yourself where you don’t belong?” He responds, very quickly avoiding the question like you expected but following it up with a rhetorical question of his own that is quick to bite back. “And what if I did? You ‘hired’ me right? Sounds like your responsibility now.” You argue, folding your hands behind your head nonchalantly. He wants to play this dick measuring contest? So be it. You audibly hear his jaw click. [[Next|kids view]]

“Careful, grip that steering wheel any harder and you’ll make me think you hate it.” You chuckle, relaxing back slightly into the seat. He doesn’t give you a response. “I mean if you really dislike your car THAT much I get it, it’s not that easy on the eyes but cmon, give the poor girl a break.” A breathy laugh leaves you as you glance to Atlas for his reaction. Reactions are always the best part. You expect fury, maybe silence again, but notice a glare of confusion in his eyes. For a moment, he actually takes his eyes off of the road to glance at you. “Did you just ‘girl’ my car?” He asks, voice and expression revealing the complete and genuine bafflement he’s experiencing. You pause and give him a nod. As the car putters along, it gives a little squeal. You smile. “See? She agrees.” You chuckle, turning to stroke the dashboard in a mock loving way while whispering sweet nonsense to the front of the vehicle. “No. No we are not doing this.” Atlas grumbles, snapped out of his shock and back to frowning, now more than ever. He shakes his head and you just smirk. [[Next|kids view]]

“You um…” You start, trailing off before you can finish as the silence gets to you once again. It feels like it eats you alive in this car, helped not at all by Atlas’s unwillingness to start a conversation. Even with your small murmur of a start, he barely seems to register it, pulling at the wheel as you both turn down a long street. You choose to stare out the window then, straying with your thoughts raging at a rapid pace, the fierceness of it enough to make you clamp your jaw shut. What exactly have you gotten yourself into now? You’re not even confident this whole thing is your fault- but regardless of the circumstances you sure are in a hell of a mess now. No lifelines this time around. You’re on your own. Towards whatever life-altering circumstance you were being driven to right now. Your head hurts with the strain. “Once we get there I’ll talk with my superiors and we will be given our supplies for a while. Shouldn’t be too long but just in case get settled in for a while.” You blink a little at the sudden interruption to your thoughts. Looking back over to Atlas, you’re not surprised to see him not looking at you, but still are a bit surprised by the pause to your spiraling. You sit up a bit more, nodding quietly. Yeah. One step at a time. [[Next|kids view]]

You say nothing. He wants to play like this? Fine. You will too. You sit in silence as time passes. And passes. And passes. Oh my god this is painful. Atlas and you sit in a type of silence that has nothing better to do than perpetuate itself. You persist though, folding a fist for you to rest your cheek on as you lean towards the window. This whole mess…this whole…//thing// that you’ve found yourself in, as much as Atlas seemed to rush through the process of “hiring” you, you doubt that the entire process will be short. If all goes well, maybe you’ll just be filing a lot of papers for some poor old lady. You doubt your new partner would entirely hide any chance to downplay the seriousness of the situation with menial office tasks, but you’re hardly going to break your silence to ask. [[So you sit.|kids view]]

Your attention is caught by a ruckus outside, right as the car pulls under an elevated railway. You stare outside, watching a group of kids across the road laugh and talk amongst themselves. One kid is perched on top of a concrete ledge, kicking a pair of very draconic-looking legs idly as he listens in to the conversation three others below him have, the whole group breaking into another loud laughing fit. You are caught in the moment for a second, noting how bright their smiles are, how genuine the joy they’re experiencing is. Could things have been the same for you here? Or were you always destined to get caught up in these things beyond your control? You resist the acknowledgment of the new pit in your stomach. The loud racing of the train above you snaps you out of your trance. You snap your head above, catching a sight of the light from the sun above flickering in and out of your gaze as the train howls through. When you look back down, the car is already moving far past the kids, and you can only lean forwards to catch one last glimpse of the fading happiness as you leave. “What’s going to keep you standing in all this?” You blink and turn to the drivers seat. “What?” Atlas sighs as if repeating himself is a hassle he has no time for. He shrugs, but it’s a bit too stiff. “Your skills. Your talents. What’s going to help you keep up with me?” He asks, turning down another long street. Choosing to not respond to his backhanded comment, you chew the inside of your cheek for a moment. You are… [[a great fighter]] [[quick on your feet]] [[good with your words]] [[a brilliant study]]

<<set $stg to Math.clamp($stgadd +=30)>>You’ve always been good in a scrap. Whether it be against a person or another shifter, you’ve had to learn to keep yourself standing to a certain degree through all your life. Just so happens that you are good at it. Very good at it. Your knuckles bloodied, and your will strong. That’s how you’ve made it this far, and you’ve earned your place. If anything at all, you’ve earned your place. You tell Atlas this, and he nods, acknowledging your expertise without a word. You expect some type of comment, some snide remark to take away your pride in your accomplishments. But he says nothing. Maybe he’s just surprised you can do anything right. Maybe you’re just overthinking this. “Good. Keep it in mind when we’re out there in the field. Forget where you stand and you’re in trouble.” He advises, narrowing his eyes as he finishes speaking. There’s another length of pause. [[You look over to the radio. Maybe some music can save this encounter.]] [[Nope. You aren’t going to spend the rest of your trip trying to salvage the conversation.]]

<<set $dex to Math.clamp($dexadd +=30)>>Relying on your speed has always worked out incredibly well for you. You know how to race out of any situation, and even keep hidden when you need to. To keep breathing, you’ve always had to keep moving. They’re intrinsic, the two. Your feet quick and your mind quicker. That’s how you’ve survived in this world, and how you’ve kept yourself standing. Or running, if you’re being realistic. You tell Atlas this, and he nods, acknowledging your expertise without a word. You expect some type of comment, some snide remark to take away your pride in your accomplishments. But he says nothing. Maybe he’s just surprised you can do anything right. Maybe you’re just overthinking this. “Good. Keep it in mind when we’re out there in the field. Forget where you stand and you’re in trouble.” He advises, narrowing his eyes as he finishes speaking. There’s another length of pause. [[You look over to the radio. Maybe some music can save this encounter.]] [[Nope. You aren’t going to spend the rest of your trip trying to salvage the conversation.]]

<<set $cha to Math.clamp($chaadd +=30)>>Getting out of sticky situations has always been easy for you when you turn to your charisma. Your silver tongue- whatever they call it, has saved your hide in more than one occasion. Its something to rely on, if anything. A pulpit for your words, a hypnotic dance for the ears to sink into the minds of anyone who will listen. Whether they care to or not. They usually come around regardless anyways. You tell Atlas this, and he nods, acknowledging your expertise without a word. You expect some type of comment, some snide remark to take away your pride in your accomplishments. But he says nothing. Maybe he’s just surprised you can do anything right. Maybe you’re just overthinking this. “Good. Keep it in mind when we’re out there in the field. Forget where you stand and you’re in trouble.” He advises, narrowing his eyes as he finishes speaking. There’s another length of pause. [[You look over to the radio. Maybe some music can save this encounter.]] [[Nope. You aren’t going to spend the rest of your trip trying to salvage the conversation.]]

<<set $int to Math.clamp($intadd +=30)>>If anything, you know you can trust your knowledge. Working hard to get where you are and being aware of your surroundings has always been your biggest strength. You’ve been called a prodigy by some, a smartass by others. But never shortsighted. You’ve made sure of that. Your talent may be less dazzling and pronounced than your peers, but doesn’t make you any less proud. The hours of work, tired fingers working under a hot lamp turning page after page- hard to miss most things after nights like that. You tell Atlas this, and he nods, acknowledging your expertise without a word. You expect some type of comment, some snide remark to take away your pride in your accomplishments. But he says nothing. Maybe he’s just surprised you can do anything right. Maybe you’re just overthinking this. “Good. Keep it in mind when we’re out there in the field. Forget where you stand and you’re in trouble.” He advises, narrowing his eyes as he finishes speaking. There’s another length of pause. [[You look over to the radio. Maybe some music can save this encounter.]] [[Nope. You aren’t going to spend the rest of your trip trying to salvage the conversation.]]

You look over to the radio. Maybe some music can save this encounter. Leaning over, Atlas doesn’t have the opportunity to stop you before you twist the knob of the radio, making the choice far before your mind can properly catch up. Loud, incessant static fills the car almost instantly, a yelp leaving you as you move to cover your ears. The surprise seems to finally catch up with Atlas, who startles into quickly turning down the static, distressed expression focused purely on the interruption before he snaps back up, whipping the wheel back into the lane with no injury, though a car speeds by with a loud honk. “What- what are you //doing?//“ Atlas yells, whipping his head around to you as you keep your hands over your ears, eyes wide. “I just-“ “You just keep poking around where you don’t belong!” He finishes for you, letting out an anguished breath as he fiddles with the volume again and turns it down enough so you can barely hear it anymore. You snap your jaw shut, watching Atlas smooth back down his white hair and try very hard not to look distressed as he grips the wheel tight once again. The channel, still barely audible to you, fizzes on in the background, pausing ever so often to emit soft, almost code-esque beeps. Not anything you recognize though. You slowly let your hands drop from you ears. “What kind of channel…” You murmur to yourself, adjusting your seatbelt as you shift in your seat. “It’s a dead channel. Broadcast went off years ago.” Atlas answers for you. His voice is noticeably quieter, whether he’s trying to match your murmur or just adjusting after the loud interruption you’re not sure, but having a break from the noise is an gift you’re not taking for granted. “Do you….not listen to music?” You try prompting, more curious and confused than anything. If you looked at this man for the first time and had to label his music taste, you’d hardly think I’d be static, but maybe you’re overthinking it. “No.” He replies, fully turning off the radio with a quick switch to the volume button. Oh. Never mind. [[End of conversation it seems.]]

Nope. You aren’t going to spend the rest of your trip trying to salvage the conversation. If this man has proven anything in the… what twenty minutes you’ve known him, it’s that a budding relationship is not a concept currently on the table. Fine. You think to your current destination then. You assume you’re getting closer now, but what exactly is this ‘Institute’ like anyways? Atlas doesn’t seem so forthcoming unless it’s something you expect to see on the back of a pamphlet, and you hardly want to get another lecture from the man in the state you’re in right now. If it’s got its claws as much in the justice system like it demonstrated earlier, you don’t think the worry nagging at the back of your throat is going away anytime soon. You take another moment to look outside, cracking open the window just barely so feel the cool air tickle at the top of your head. It’s a bittersweet feeling, that of the space between the glass and metal. A glint of sunlight reflects just above your eye as you take a deep breath in, leaning closer to the grasp of freedom. Noises from outside drift into the car, interactions mingling and mixing together into a rumbling symphony that is just barely out of reach. Times like these make poetry feel shallow and the burrowing worry in your throat feel worse. [[Next|End of conversation it seems.]]

The car stops with an unmistakable clunk that lets you know it’s halted for a while now. You, in turn, blink, having been caught off guard by the sudden stop as you look around yourself to take in the surroundings. You and Atlas sit in a sizable lot situated right next to one of the tallest towers you have ever seen in your life. Even pressing up against the window, you can’t see the end of it, a small huff of surprise leaving you as you do. The skyscraper is thin, larger at the bottom where you sit and seemingly growing thinner and sharper as it rises, possibly a trick of the eye. But what stands out most to you, is just how //clean// it all looks. There is no brickwork, only stark steel all the way down with no sign of imperfection. It’d almost be impressive, if it weren't so off-putting. Atlas opens his door with a click as the car unlocks, finally letting you free to roam as you please. Within limits, you remind yourself. “Once we’re inside—” Atlas starts instructing as you exit the car alongside him, “just stick close. I’ll be grabbing all our necessary information for the day so keep quiet.” You pop the door closed behind you as you continue taking in the sight of the tower, now barely able to make out the top, a long spire-like tip stretching far to the clouds above. There’s no signifier of the tower’s identity from the outside. Flat and dark panels of steel all the way up, and not a single sign of personal touch. As if you should know better. All minus, as you notice, the imprinted shape right above the tall double doors in front. It shouldn’t seem small, you know it’s likely larger than you are, but in comparison you can’t exactly blame yourself for skipping over it before. <<if $dragonfear is false>>Clouds. You take a deep breath and close your eyes for but a moment. What you wouldn’t give to be among those right now.<</if>> Without waiting for confirmation Atlas leads the way towards the large, sliding glass doors out front. You follow and note just how few people are actually around. You’d expect maybe a few people to be lingering at least on the edges of property, whether it be loitering kids or simple workers on break, but the only people you see are stuffy-looking business types ascending and descending the wide stairs up to the doors. One thing makes you stop entirely in your tracks though. In the car before, you’d assumed the spot in your vision was some small art installation further down the street, but closing in now, it seems to be anything but. A large, marble statue greets you at the foot of the stairs, directly in front of the building. Its presence looms over both you and Atlas, and divides a clear path between two sides of the staircase. The statue is large, bigger than you by a long shot. It depicts a visual you’re quite familiar with. A gleaming knight, covered in glorious silks and gleaming armor with a long cape drifting to their side. Underneath a similarly fine-detailed helm, their gaze is proud, sightless eyes staring off into the distance far past and above you. You could almost mistake the cold feeling you get as unintentional if it wasn’t for what they held beneath their boot. Stabbed into the raised pedestal by a glorious looking longsword is a dragon. The beast curls around the knight’s legs, its face twisted into a defeated snarl as a long tongue droops out of its maw, a twisted grimace of fury and agony. You’re not quite sure what species it is even supposed to be depicting. It’s like the artist had key sources to draw from for the knight but when the time came to the beast below them they simply mushed existing concepts together to develop some “all-powerful” monster for the knight to defeat. [[And who was to stop them.]]

“In honor of the Golden Knight and his heroic sacrifice for the world.” You read, stilling yourself as you go over the words again in your head. You’ve heard of this one. The battle that solidified a fate for humanity and dragon kind. A story told to children of hope and triumph, one of fate and rising against all odds. Against all bumps in the night and vicious creatures still partially gone to this day. An origin story to your kind, right as the last true dragon met its fate. You frown. It’s never been a particularly triumphant story for you. “Le Fay.” He says your last name again, more hesitant than you recognize. You stare over at him, watching him as he reaches out a hand then quickly draws it back. He glances at the statue and you turn your gaze back to it again. There is grass growing under the pedestal. “It’s fine. I’m… I’m coming.” Your walk away from the statue feels weighty, like a new rock weighs itself on your chest. Atlas keeps his gaze on the figure behind you as if looking away would cause it to jump out at you if he loses track of it for even a second. When he cuts his eyes back down to you, you feel the line of connection slip again. He nods and turns. As you follow, hands now stuck into your pockets, you can do nothing but watch as the building looms closer, the doors rising taller than any door should and the windows around them even wider. It looks like an animal lying in wait. And as you enter, that animal swallows you whole. [[What good prey you are.|enter institute]]

The inside of the building is tall, intimidatingly so. The roof towers above you, making the lobby of the building seem impossibly large. Surprising still is the activity of the place. As you lower your head, eyes falling from the elaborate chandelier that would look more at home in a minimalist art museum, you are quickly put off by just how //quiet// the whole place is. There are people— employees you assume, walking in and out of doors you cannot place and through the row of elevators you and your partner slowly make your way towards. But you can’t help but notice how no one lingers here. The people who need to get to point A move from point B, and the people who need to move further into the guts of this beast proceed to do so with little to no conversation. The lobby has barely any signs of life, not like it is void of people of course, but the details are wrong. You saw life outside crossing sidewalks and talking in a group of friends. Here, there may be signs of it, but it just feels cold. There is a sinking feeling in your gut. Not one with any trigger. No one bothers you as you proceed further inside, which is a wonderful break from the usual, but the tension is still very much present. You can feel it in your shoulders and how it wraps around your spine. You’re not welcome to stay for long. The station was arguably worse than this, the danger was //present//, was //everywhere// there. But here, your discomfort lies deeper than just beneath your skin. A passing glance or two, a whispered word to a fellow coworker, you could hardly escape it in the room that felt designed to hold you there. The station may have been dangerous but this place would turn you inside out the moment you let it. You stuff your hands into your pockets. [[Yes. You’re certain of it.|enter elevator]]

Approaching the elevators, you watch them open and close like a vacuole, strangers stepping in and out, only pausing to bear you a passing glance and nothing more. You try to pay them no mind in return. The elevator opens with a soft chime, and you stand still as people begin to flood out. With Atlas standing in front of you,<<if $height is "huge">> despite your similarly intimidating height,<</if>> the people seem to split alike to how they did outside along the sides of the statue. Nevertheless, Atlas escorts you in as you sidle up into the now empty elevator. What looks to be other employees outside who were waiting for a ride up now hesitate, looking either to each other or straight towards the ground. You try to ignore the shaking in your hands as the doors close with no one joining you on your journey up. It’s not very easy. At least it gives you time to talk with Atlas alone. Maybe this time he’ll be more forthcoming. You watch as he presses the button for the second floor and steps back, hands folded. [[“Can you let me know when I can start asking questions?”]] [[“So do you find literally anything fun?“|atlas stares]] [[“They stare a lot.”]]

“Can you let me know when I can start asking questions?” The question itself should feel biting. Maybe a quick snipe. But when you speak it, you can hardly manage to notice how forward of a comment it is. Maybe you’re just tired of everyone and everything putting a wall in front of you. Maybe you’re just looking to fill the air. Either way, Atlas, as usual— thinks before he speaks. “If you can be even remotely civil about it, once we’ve left. I’m not promising anything though.” He replies, staring at the door as if it should’ve opened ages ago. You frown. That’s the best answer you’ve gotten all day, and admitting that feels rather sad. You take the moment to take a breath and lean your head back, raising a hand to block the fluorescents above you as they buzz idly. It’s hard not to let your mind wander, to let it drift and sway into the unfamiliar territory of the situation. Even harder to ignore the ebbing headache you’ve had ever since you were unceremoniously thrown into a police station with no lifeline and no community. You’d…. well you’d hope that a community would help. It’s getting easier and easier to convince yourself they wouldn’t. [[Next|elevator exit]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos -=10)>>“So do you find literally anything fun?” You ask, leaning back against the wall of the elevator as you try to ignore the largely impassable bar digging into your back. You have to bite back a wide grin as you hear Atlas huff in indignation. Score. You can practically //see// him wrestling with whether or not to say something, whether or not to snap back with an equally rude remark. The soft sound of the elevator rising does little to quell the tension. Then you watch as he leans forwards silently and pushes the elevator stop button. The elevator halts with a groaning sound, not enough to be alarming, but you have far more to worry about at the moment. As Atlas leans back up, he refuses to look at you, but you can feel the intensity in the secluded space skyrocket regardless. There is a moment of silence, a moment that would’ve previously felt awkward now set alight. And the arsonist stands with his hands at his sides. “If you think for a second you can pull this for long, I advise you to wise up.” You blink at him. The sudden switch to this frankly overwhelming seriousness has your head turning, and for one of the first times since you’ve gotten into this mess, you really feel the gravity of things catching up to you. “What?” You ask, not wanting a response. “I’m only here because I was assigned to you. Nothing more. You’re only here because you were forced to. I’ll give you this, that makes us similar. But keep playing this //character// of yours and I’ll make this situation much, //much// worse for you.” He responds, finally dragging an eye over to you. That eye pins you to your place and his words are slow and drawn out as if taking each syllable must be dragged from hiding. “Do we have a deal?” You swallow, unable to move your eyes away from his gaze. This sucks. This fucking sucks. You want to yell back, move away, crash the elevator- //something//. But you can’t manage any of it. Not when the truth of the situation wraps itself around your throat. You grimace. “If you-“ “Shut up Le Fay.” He cuts you off, seeming almost in an instant to drop the conversation. Leaning down again, he starts the elevator up again, but you can only stare holes into his back. What the hell. [[Next|elevator exit]]

“They stare a lot.” You don’t expect a response, and thus aren’t all that surprised when Atlas doesn’t give you one. But maybe this time instead, you’ll take it as permission. “The people here. They did in the station but at least there they didn’t pretend not to hate you.” You continue. Voicing your thoughts like these are certain to get you a lecture, another long conversation you aren’t privy to join because you’re not being spoken //to// but //of//. But as you wrap your arms around yourself, you notice the stretch of time between words is a lot longer than you anticipated. You glance over to Atlas. Though you cannot read, or even see properly for that matter, his expression— his stance is still. It is probably the most calculated to look casual position you’ve ever seen, but the tension in his shoulders gives it away. You’ve had to hold that feeling in your shoulders before. But yet he doesn’t respond. And the elevator ticks ever upwards. Another moment passes. “Does it…. get any easier?” You can’t be sure why you ask this. It’s too vulnerable out of nowhere, too confusing of an ask for someone who may not be older than yourself. But who would know the answer any better? And Atlas does the same thing as he’s always done. He says nothing. [[Next|elevator exit]]

The elevator clicks open with a soft ding, a reset for your feelings as you look over to stare out at the new floor you’ve found yourself on. The floor is wide, spanning out over multiple office cubicles and various desks to arrange yourself at. Atlas, meanwhile, seems to have a set destination, and hardly lets you look around for a moment before he steps away from you and towards the nearest desk, a long marble thing that blurs into the simple white and gray backdrop of the entire building. Before you can really move much further into the room, Atlas shoots you a look and begins speaking with the lady behind the desk. All professional. No smiles. You can’t exactly catch what they’re saying from here, but you can’t imagine it’s anything particularly enlightening. But as he speaks, you have a moment of time. Any speck of freedom here, no matter how truly limited, feels like clawing for air. You… [[Stick around Atlas. Maybe you can contribute to the conversation. Maybe you can just stay out of trouble.|stick by atlas]] [[Fuck that. You want to explore deeper into the floor.|explore inst]] [[Adventuring any further past the familiar, even if just slightly, makes your stomach churn. You won’t stick by Atlas’s side, but maybe you can do something nearby in the meantime.|inst eavesdrop]]

You stick around Atlas. Being around him right now, though it doesn’t sound exactly appealing, sounds a lot better than wandering in this place alone. <<if hasVisited("atlas stares")>>This way you can make sure he doesn’t pull that shit he did in the elevator on anyone else here. Though you kind of doubt he’d dare in a more public place like this.<</if>> At least from here you can pretend the prickling at the back of your neck is just nerves. You take the moment to watch as Atlas speaks with the lady behind the counter, who works on organizing her papers at the same time as she listens to your partner with a nod. “Is the director free right now? I’d like to pass a few things by him.” He starts, frowning for a moment as the woman very quickly shakes her head and taps the papers in front of her on the desk to get them in order. “He’s very busy right now. Meetings until 11. Is there anything you need to send along?” The woman replies. “That’s alright. I’m here for the job supplies and apartment key then, that should be all.” You note how Atlas sounds closer to how he was back in the station, when he spoke with the other officer. Far different than how he speaks to you. Or speaks down to you, rather. What really piques your interest though, is the mention of an apartment key. You heard him mention gathering supplies before, but are left to wonder what exactly the use of a key would be to him. Unless? This could be the only possible positive that comes out of this situation. Free housing. The woman gives him another curt nod and stands, moving over to likely grab whatever Atlas had asked for just a moment earlier. As you wait, you idle with looking around a bit. There are very few employees walking about, you notice, and even the ones going from place to place are //quiet//. The very few conversations that linger on the precipice of comprehension and nonsense to you are distant for the most part, and just like the police station, just like the lobby, the people just stare. You internally curl a bit at the looks people make right before they pass through doorways, pass where you can’t see them anymore. The slight hesitancy and shift to their features as they look at you. But you can’t even blame them as much. You are a newcomer after all, and this space, this //floor// hardly seems excited for changes to the status quo. No matter how insignificant that change may be. But in catching the few glances and looks you spot in the short period you have as the lady continues to search for the correct supplies, you notice something. The stares are focused for the most part on you, but they don’t ignore the man beside you. And if you can feel just how strongly you stand out here, surely he isn’t foolish enough to think the looks are polite recognition? When does recognition become a spectacle? Atlas stares straight ahead and you open your mouth. [[“Can we leave? Like, soon?”]] [[You close your mouth. Maybe talking right now isn’t such a good idea.]] [[“I hope this isn’t like this all the time for you.” (♡)][$atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos +=10)]]

You don’t want to stick around right now. Standing still sounds like it’d just about kill you and the last thing you need right now is to just keel over. It feels far too early for that. So instead, you choose to ignore Atlas’s warning. You’ve got better things to do, and that includes starting to walk down the long hallway in front of you. For a moment, you worry about if you’re about to get yelled at by Atlas to come running back, but the comment doesn’t come. Good. You’ll take this win. The hallway stretches in front of you for what feels like forever. It’s thankfully dark, the lights above soaking the space with neutral whites and blues. It’s isolating, this space, but you’re not sure anywhere else is better. //If// anywhere else is better. Doors line the side of the walls, but few have labels, even less with windows. You’d hoped to gain at least some insight into your new employer’s headquarters, but so far the effort seems fruitless. You let out a frustrated sigh. Before you’re quite out of earshot of the now distant noise, you pass by an open area much larger than any door you’ve come across. You stop, footsteps echoing to a close as you trace your eyes across the tall square opening in the wall. Inside, it seems, lies a training room of sorts. That’s about the best way you could put it. It looks similar to a shorter gym, though the roof still stretches up high and even has a balcony that you cant see an entrance to from here. There’s a white mat, slightly stained with something dark on the ground, and a row of long objects displayed across the wall you can’t quite make out yet. Just before you peer closer in though, you hear a sharp drilling noise to your right, further down the hall. You glance over, a bit startled by the interruption to the quiet background noise, but don’t hear it again. Something’s going on up there as well. You think over it for a moment. You’ve already gone too far now. [[You want to explore the training room.]] [[You want to see what’s going on further down the hall.]]

Adventuring any further past the familiar, even if just slightly, makes your stomach churn. You won’t stick by Atlas’s side, but maybe you can do something nearby in the meantime. You scan the floor a second time, chewing on your cheek a bit as nothing stands out to you right away. In front of you lies a maze of cubicles, blank flimsy walls facing you to hide the people from your line of sight, but you can clearly hear the clacking of keyboards from all over. The murmuring of conversation is light but present, but the entire view is all too depressing. Not the most appealing work environment to peer in on your first day in the city. Your hand reflexively travels to your throat, but hesitates before touching the wire already snapped around it. You’re not really in a great place to judge their conditions, it seems. “-burnt to a crisp all over.” You perk up, hand falling to your side. What? Turning around, you spot two men standing beside a wall of file cabinets, one pulling out a set of folders and flicking through the papers inside. They are dressed rather sensibly, and all too occupied with their conversation to notice you. “Really? Just like that?” “Yeah. No patterns yet, just mainly found a distance from the heart of their territory- all fire though.” You try not to look suspicious, the open layout not playing in your favor, but a nearby wall providing a good enough cover to at least make your very obvious presence look casual. You lean against it and turn yourself away from them. If anything, at least the collar can’t seem to interrupt any of the smaller advantages you get from just being you. The sharp canines and possible slit pupils were one thing, but being able to hear just a little bit better<<if $disability is "hoh">>, little good that did you,<</if>> and sense just a bit more than your entirely human compatriots definitely helps in situations like these. “All of them? And they’re sure they’re not just blooming?” “Maybe, in some cases it’s too hard to tell. But…” One of the men leans in to speak to his coworker, but you can still catch the tail end of the conversation even as he tries to lower it. “-same type of scars on them. Always one like that’s all it took. You know, I think-“ There’s a sudden cut to the conversation. A quick shush. You bite your tongue. They’ve spotted you. Or at least one of them does, as the speaking worker turns to look over his shoulder, shooting you an ice cold glare that tells you, plain and simple, that the conversation is over. Well, your inclusion in it for the most part. The two shuffle away from you, mumbling words between them that even if you could hear, in all honesty, you’re not sure you’d want to. Their expressions give away everything you need to know. Still, even as you stand alone, various conversations spinning around in the background, you can’t help but center in your own thoughts. What were they talking about with the “all fire” burns? Did they mean Firespitters? <<if $species is "firespitter">> Something about this whole thing unsettles you a lot more than you care to admit. Why target them specifically? And who? Maybe you misheard something.<</if>> And what about the scars? The territory? Maybe you’d understand more if you were a little more aware of what was going on in this city, but the lack of clear answers only serves to make you feel more isolated and trapped. The second you step foot into the place you’d thought you could call home, and they tear you from that. You blink back the emotion best you can. You still have time. There’s still an opportunity, maybe you might just yet find a way out of this spiraling situation. You turn back to the main desk. [[Next|box opening]]

“Can we leave? Like, soon?” You sigh, leaning your chin on a hand over the desk. You hear a huff from Atlas, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Be patient. We’re waiting for significant tools in the field. For //you//, I should mention.” He responds, folding his hands behind his back as he stands at attention. You chew on the side of your cheek a bit and cross your arms over the desk instead. <<if $kind < 50>>Asshole. You’re going through all this effort for //him// after all. He’s the whole reason you’re in this place in the first place. Well- maybe more the institute itself but if he likes walking around like a portable advertising campaign for them and their services you might as well dislike him as much. You frown and stare a particularly annoying-looking pen down to vent your frustrations.<<else>>You wish this was easier. For both of your sakes. Saying it’s easy to figure out how Atlas is truly feeling is… an understatement for certain but he certainly made clear his frustration. And so far, your attempts at diplomacy have either failed or seemed to make no clear dent in the vault door that is the man beside you. But thinking only of him will just get you upset again. Maybe once you’re out of this building, back onto the streets where there were kids laughing with their friends, vendors selling their wares, where there was //life//- maybe then you’ll catch a break. You can hope.<</if>> Your thoughts are broken as the woman behind the counter returns with a large box in her arms. You instantly catch sight of a bundle of items within the cardboard file box, thrown haphazardly in such a way that it reminds you of the stereotypical 'just being kicked out of their office' if missing a few odds and ends. You fight the urge to grin sardonically. If only you’d be fired that early. You lean forwards as she sets the box down with a nod. [[Next|box opening]]

You close your mouth. Maybe talking right now isn’t such a good idea. Instead, you fill the time by flicking your eyes idly around you, attempting, at the very least, to make any productivity out of the moment. What has become an unfortunate part of this idling though, is the cold metal you brush at around your jugular. It’s been a lot easier to ignore than you thought, the machine is surprisingly lightweight and non-irritating, but you almost wish that it was so that you could have a better excuse to hate it. Other than the clear bother and complete disregard of your personal autonomy in the matter, the collar— the device, whatever it was didn’t turn your mind to these things first. They turned them inwards, and you found yourself getting lost in that more and more often these days. There’s a moment then. Just briefly as you idle your hand against the steel laid above your collarbone. The sounds around you get just a little more muffled, a little more distant. Your vision doesn’t get blurry necessarily, but you’re not too focused on how the light dims around you. And you smell pine. Pine and iron. “Le Fay? You still with me here?” You snap to attention again, blinking over to Atlas. He looks… well as usual, lightly irritated and utterly confused to the enigma standing beside him, but he doesn’t seem exactly angry this time around. Maybe you should be the angry one here. You swallow, yanking your hand down from the //thing// around your neck. It’s difficult to keep his gaze this time and you end up staring to your free side towards the floor, just enough so he can’t see how your eyes refocus and you steady yourself before you can twitch— before you can shake too much to seem put together. “Yeah.” You reply simply. You don’t hear a response but it seems like the conversation has been dropped. You swallow and the metal is cold against your throat. The moment is broken as the woman behind the counter returns with a large box in her arms. You instantly catch sight of a bundle of items within the cardboard file box, thrown haphazardly in such a way that it reminds you of the stereotypical 'just being kicked out of their office' if missing a few odds and ends. You fight the urge to grin sardonically. If only you’d be fired that early. You lean forwards as she sets the box down with a nod. [[Next|box opening]]

<<set $atlasromance =+1>>“I hope this isn’t like this all the time for you.” You’re not quite sure where the comment comes from. Well- it’s not a comment, not really. It felt more like a blessing. A kindness that bubbled from inside your chest but instead of bursting out of you, was as simple as a breath. You don’t even really have time to consider what you’ve just said as Atlas reacts first. He stiffens a little, frowning, but not with the furrowed brows that you’re used to accompanying the expression. It’s… you hesitate to call it soft, but it’s a much more measured expression than the many he’s given you already, and it makes you hesitate along with him. You know he understands what you meant. He looks over to you, face now almost confused in its contortion. His lips are parted slightly, and you glance down at them for the smallest bit of a second before you watch them close, fit into a tight line once again. But he still doesn’t look angry. Just… sad almost. You feel that sadness like a bone deep exhaustion pre-set to your spine, something that has already lingered with you for years found as a kindred spirit in the quiet admittance of something solemn under the surface. It feels like a funeral between you two over something you don’t want to admit. He blinks and he’s no longer looking at you, eyes instead cast to the side though he hasn’t turned away from you, not completely. There’s a lingering moment where you consider reaching out to him, to comfort him or to grasp onto that line of familiarity with all your might, you’re not sure, but the moment passes as soon as it had come as Atlas finally turns back to the desk and edges away from you. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us, Le Fay, better settle in.” He responds, dodging the statement again though this time around you can’t quite seem to care. It’s as much of an answer as you’re going to get. The moment is broken as the woman behind the counter returns with a large box in her arms. You instantly catch sight of a bundle of items within the cardboard file box, thrown haphazardly in such a way that it reminds you of the stereotypical 'just being kicked out of their office' if missing a few odds and ends. You fight the urge to grin sardonically. If only you’d be fired that early. You lean forwards as she sets the box down with a nod. [[Next|box opening]]

The box placed on the countertop is a bit mismanaged in its organization. If you weren’t looking at some very-official looking items in a very-official looking place, you could’ve called it messy. But the insides provoke a different response. Laid inside the box among many things is a short stack of files pressed inside a vanilla folder. You repress a shiver at the idea of more paperwork after your intense run-in with it your first few hours in the city. Atlas takes this and sets it aside as he reaches in to pull out another item. You pause. In his hand he holds a blade. A sheathed one, but nevertheless you know that long shape. You swallow. Seemingly oblivious to your nerves, Atlas sets it down near you, turning back to the box to wrestle with the insides once again. “A knife?” You ask, eyeing it hesitantly. “For you. You won’t be able to protect yourself if we’re ambushed with your inhibitor device on, so you’ll need to be ready. Dragon scales aren’t reliably penetrated by bullets and projectiles so this is the next best thing.” He explains. You blanch a little, the reality of the dangers you’re being thrown into reaching through the cracks little by little. Ambush? Attacked? Just how much trouble does Atlas expect? “If things go right you won’t need it at all. Just a precaution.” He adds with a nod, as if he had heard what you were thinking. You cautiously reach towards the blade and pick it up, testing the weight in your hand. You resist the urge to unsheathe it and check the weapon, noting that even if you wished to, doing so in here would probably be an incredibly stupid decision. <<if $gknightmeet is true>>The worry that you may need this knife more than you had previously assumed creeps up on you in a manner you wouldn’t like to explain.<</if>><<if $lancemeet is true>>The worry that you may need this knife more than you had previously assumed creeps up on you in a manner you wouldn’t like to explain.<</if>> Finally, Atlas pulls out the last item, something you quickly recognize. Your phone. “Hey! How’d you get that here?” You exclaim, more surprised than anything. Atlas hums to himself and hands you back your device, making you pause for a moment to set the knife back down on the counter to grab a hold of your phone. Turning it over in your palm, you quickly turn it on, brow furrowing as you quickly search for any sign of tampering. Hm. All seems clear. Still you raise your eyes to meet Atlas. Your partner is looking through the file, lifting a page or two before catching sight of your knife on the table, which prompts him to reach for the box again and pull out some kind of short leather strap. “Here. Clasp it to your side. I recommend hiding it too, unless you want to be attacked.” He explains, stating the realistic threat so plainly as if it wasn’t the most worrying statement for someone in your situation. <<if $stgadd >=40>> At least you know you can hold your own if something like that //does// happen, heavens forbid.<</if>> You take the strap from him, but don’t pick up the knife right away, instead waving your phone around slightly to reattach his attention to the situation at hand. “My phone. The cops took it when they detained me- why is it here?” You ask with a confused frown. Why’d they even want this in the first place? Atlas gives it a glance and the subtlest lift of his shoulders. “The King Institute has the right to seize any property of peoples who may be under their investigations. They likely were holding it for precautions sake, one can’t be too careful.” He replies. The same legal-lingo invades his speech, but the brute force of the rigid tone he kept back in the interrogation room is lost on this one. That’s perhaps the best development you’ve seen all day. “But…why would they need it?” “Threat evaluation. It doesn’t specifically have to be about the phone, it’s just for resource control.” He slides the folder under his arm. “Control the resources and it’s easier to organize.” You know he meant it as a legitimate slice of advice, maybe some kind of 'harsh rules of life' you could imagine him passing out at every opportunity, but to you it doesn’t sound like that. To you, it sounds like a warning. You know this place has it out for you. How deep that goes though- you’re not quite sure yet. [[But it does not leave you with a good feeling.|elevator nightmare]]

<<newmeter "Atlas">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Atlas black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Puck">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Puck black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Skye">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Skye black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Reese">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Reese black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Strength">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Strength black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Dexterity">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Dexterity black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Charisma">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Charisma black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Intelligence">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Intelligence black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Kind/Aggressive">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Kind/Aggressive black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Genuine/Sarcastic">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Genuine/Sarcastic black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Expressive/Stoic">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Expressive/Stoic black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Nervous/Bold">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Nervous/Bold black center>> <</newmeter>> <<newmeter "Human/Dragon">> <<colors "#FFB400">> <<sizing "100%" "2em">> <<label Human/Dragon black center>> <</newmeter>> <<set $kind = 50>><<set $aggressive = 100>><<set $genuine = 50>><<set $sarcastic = 100>><<set $expressive = 50>><<set $stoic = 100>><<set $nervous = 50>><<set $bold = 100>><<set $humanstat = 50>><<set $dragonstat = 100>><<set $teamplayer = 50>><<set $teamplayerblank = 100>> <<set $atlasrelationshippos= 50>><<set $atlasrelationshipneg= 100>><<set $reeserelationshippos= 50>><<set $reeserelationshipneg= 100>><<set $puckrelationshippos= 50>><<set $puckrelationshipneg= 100>><<set $skyerelationshippos= 50>><<set $skyerelationshipneg= 100>> <<set $stgadd= 0>><<set $stgblank= 100>><<set $dexadd= 0>><<set $dexblank= 100>><<set $chaadd= 0>><<set $chablank= 100>><<set $intadd= 0>><<set $intblank= 100>> /* Multipronouns Variables*/ <<set $prons to 0>> <<set $arr_they to []>> <<set $arr_them to []>> <<set $arr_their to []>> <<set $arr_theirs to []>> <<set $arr_themself to []>> <<set $arr_plural to []>> <<set $mc_they to "">> <<set $mc_them to "">> <<set $mc_their to "">> <<set $mc_theirs to "">> <<set $mc_themself to "">> <<set $mc_plural to false>> <<set $mc_is to "">> <<set $mc_was to "">> <<set $mc_s to "">> <<set $mc_theyre to "">> <<set $mc_has to "">>

<<link "Relationships">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Relationships"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("relationships").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link "Stats">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Stats"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("stats").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link "Personality">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Personality"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("personality").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link "Credits">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Credits"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("credits").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>>

<h3>StoryInterface</h3> The StoryInterface special passage, used by creating a special passage titled StoryInterface, allows you to override the default UI layout of Sugarcube. At its most basic, it consists of a div with the id "passages" that displays the data from your passages on the screen, as shown in example 1. You can add more complex layouts by adding more elements to this passage, such as menu bars, splash screens, headers and footers, as shown in example 2. Defining these divs is as simple as adding the necessary HTML to the StoryInterface passage; however, note that if a div is assigned a "data-passage" property, you should not add content to it within the StoryInterface passage. This property assigns a passage to that div. In example 2, the div with the id "ui-bar" has the data-passage property "UIBar", meaning it pulls its content data from a passage with the same name. These designations are case-sensitive. If you're just starting out with Twine/Sugarcube, it's a good idea to familiarize yourself with the language and the UI before working with StoryInterface. ''Example 1'' {{{<div id="passages"></div>}}} ''Example 2'' {{{<div id="ui-bar" data-passage="UIBar"></div>}}} {{{<div id="passages"></div>}}} {{{<div id="footer" data-passage="Footer"></div>}}} This will create a layout with three basic elements: the UI bar, the passage, and the footer. Content for the UI bar is found in the UIBar passage; likewise with the Footer passage & div. <h3>Accessing the UI functions</h3> Using StoryInterface by nature removes the built-in UI bar and the links contained within (Saves, Settings, Restart etc); these can all be replaced using their relevant APIs. The most common & useful of these are listed below. These commands can be placed inside links or buttons. {{{UI.saves() - opens the save UI}}} {{{UI.settings() - opens the settings UI}}} {{{UI.restart() - restarts the game}}} {{{Engine.backward()/Engine.forward() - undoes the previous action and returns the player to the previous passage/moves the player forward one action}}} Similarly to the above, you can use {{{<<back>>}}} to create a button that automatically undoes the last action, or {{{<<return>>}}} to return to the previous passage without undoing any variable changes made. <h3>Dialog functions</h3> You can set up dialog options to pop up upon clicking a link or button, which allows you to share information with the player without adding a new passage to the player's history or changing the state of the game. In order to do this, you need to set up the Dialog box, tell it what passage contains the content you want to display, and optionally, add a title. {{{Dialog.setup("Dialog Box Title");}}} {{{Dialog.wiki(Story.get("PassageName").processText());}}} {{{Dialog.open();}}} Any of these commands can be used in the default layout as well as StoryInterface - if you want extra save buttons, back buttons etc. <<back "Return">> <<link "Settings">><<script>>UI.settings();<</script>><</link>> <<button "Saves">><<script>>UI.saves();<</script>><</button>>

Skin & Scales

An Interactive Fiction Story

By Rein

<a href="https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs/">Sugarcube 2 Documentation</a> <a href="https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2">Chapel - custom macros collection</a> <a href="https://github.com/cyrusfirheir/cycy-wrote-custom-macros">Cycy's custom macros</a> <a href="https://unsplash.com/">Unsplash</a> for sidebar images (<a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/4CpyhNQ-LdU">light mode</a> and <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/1L71sPT5XKc">dark mode</a>)

<div style="text-align: center;">$atlasrelationshippos%</div><<showmeter 'Atlas' $atlasrelationshippos/$atlasrelationshipneg>><div style="text-align: center;">$reeserelationshippos%</div><<showmeter 'Reese' $reeserelationshippos/$reeserelationshipneg>><div style="text-align: center;">$puckrelationshippos%</div><<showmeter 'Puck' $puckrelationshippos/$puckrelationshipneg>><div style="text-align: center;">$skyerelationshippos%</div><<showmeter 'Skye' $skyerelationshippos/$skyerelationshipneg>>

<div style="text-align: center;">$stgadd%</div><<showmeter 'Strength' $stgadd/$stgblank>><div style="text-align: center;">$dexadd%</div><<showmeter 'Dexterity' $dexadd/$dexblank>><div style="text-align: center;">$chaadd%</div><<showmeter 'Charisma' $chaadd/$chablank>><div style="text-align: center;">$intadd%</div><<showmeter 'Intelligence' $intadd/$intblank>><div>$humanstat%</div><div style="text-align: right;"><<print 100 - $humanstat>>%</div><<showmeter 'Human/Dragon' $humanstat/$dragonstat>>

<div>$kind%</div><div style="text-align: right;"><<print 100 - $kind>>%</div><<showmeter 'Kind/Aggressive' $kind/$aggressive>><div>$genuine%</div><div style="text-align: right;"><<print 100 - $genuine>>%</div><<showmeter 'Genuine/Sarcastic' $genuine/$sarcastic>><div>$expressive%</div><div style="text-align: right;"><<print 100 - $expressive>>%</div><<showmeter 'Expressive/Stoic' $expressive/$stoic>><div>$nervous%</div><div style="text-align: right;"><<print 100 - $nervous>>%</div><<showmeter 'Nervous/Bold' $nervous/$bold>>

<<set $gknightmeet to true>>As much as you are curious, you’re not //that// curious. The training room is rather clean, minus the reoccurring notches in the wood panels as you step over them towards the mat. The deeper into the room you go, the more detailed everything becomes. From the set of steel benches pushed to the right side of the wide room below the balcony that doesn’t jut out, just tunnels itself into the side of the wall, to the left side’s rack of what look to be weapons. You blink for a moment, pausing. It’s a line of swords, all dulled from and for excessive training, varying from wooden Bokkens to classic medieval weaponry, down to a surprisingly large supply of light fencing swords. You feel the mat below you now, sinking very slightly at your footsteps, but it silences your movement enough to make the quietness in the room deafening. You can’t even hear the noise that was coming down from both sides of the hallway. Instead, you’re focused on the swords in front of you. Despite all the small cracks and chips in their work, they shine with effort and pride. Even the wood of the Bokkens hold a bit too well. You know why they’re so well taken care of though. Even a training sword must be perfect if it is to slay a dragon. This room makes you feel much less comfortable than before. A glimpse of movement catches your eye, but before you could panic you glance over, letting out a breath as you see yourself reflected back to you in a full body mirror posted to the side of the wall. <<if $dysphoric is true>>It’s best for you not to look into mirrors these days really. Even if you fight to look the way you want- feel the way you want. It always comes down to this. That self of yours staring back… whoever that is.<</if>><<if $hairlength is true>>You run a hand through your $haircolor hair and let out a weary sigh. That’s enough.<</if>><<if $bald is true>>You scratch at the side of your face and let out a weary sigh. That’s enough.<</if>><<if $headscarf is true>>You scratch at the side of your face and let out a weary sigh. That’s enough.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>This part of you is better, at least. You wrap your arms around yourself, as if suffocating the very core of you. If only that were true. Maybe this place would feel more welcoming, less alone. You have to laugh a little bitterly at that. Well you’ve certainly hoped for more from less.<<else>>You search your own eyes, your own face. A moment passes. Eventually, you slowly turn your gaze downwards, and your line of sight focuses on the //thing// around your neck. You can’t help but to grimace. Raising a hand to touch at it again, you’re struck once more by how impossible the technology is. Could there really be existing technology that can stop you from transforming into this other form of yours, something that seems so difficult to grasp conceptually yet sounds entirely too possible if made by this place.<</if>> You turn back to look at the swords. But then you feel it. The hair on the back of your neck standing up and the feeling, however small, of eyes on you. You do not know how something has snuck up on you and even less of how it feels so //wrong// but yet. Your breath becomes a bit shallow as you stare at the swords in front of you. They are silent. Why did you expect something more? In their shine though, you can just barely make out something odd. The gleam of the sword shines a bit too brightly in one place it hadn’t before, as if something behind you reflected off of it. Something on the balcony daring you to spin around. Make it real. Make the nightmare a reality. Then- as soon as it comes. It's gone. The shine on the sword wobbles then disappears, lost to whatever direction the sword could not reflect. You stare at the steel a moment longer, gathering your bravery, then spin around. There’s nothing. No entity breathing down your neck, no presence. No real danger. Then why can you still feel eyes on you? You don’t want to stay here any longer. The way out of the room and down the hall is much faster than the pace in which you entered. You’re not running- there’d be way too many questions if you did that. Instead, you settle for a fast walk. And if you threw a couple of glances over your shoulder- well that’s between you and the hall. When you make it back, Atlas turns to you. He frowns, but says nothing, instead flicking his eyes between you and the hall. Maybe just this once he’s too occupied to yell at you. You’ll take any excuse you can get. [[Especially when you still can’t get your body to stop tensing.|box opening]]

<<set $lancemeet to true>>You’ve already gone this far already, why not go the full way? Turning away from the training room, you explore further into the hallway, your pace picking back up as you do. The lighting considerably dims, though does not blink out, and you cast a glance behind you as the conversations behind you fade. Slowly but progressively, a lighter panel along the left side of the hallway grows closer. At first you think it’s a screen, maybe a directory, but the closer you get, the more wobbly the picture inside looks, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of a wide window peering in. You’re reminded for a moment of the window a hospital’s surgery room might have, a long rectangle that stands out from the normal boxy and blacked out windows of the former doors. Or maybe a bit more similar to the window inside of the interrogation room. A little too narrow, a little too thin. And inside the window, on the other side of the thick glass, lies an odd sight, but one that aligns with the noise you had heard earlier. Inside, various machines plug away and shift and churn amongst each other, the sheer number of mechanisms so overwhelming that you cannot quite make out the difference between a piece working and a piece being worked on. Everything is in motion, the only reason you know it to be an actual workshop and not some odd tv is shown in the surroundings, which are a stark white and blue, an odd sterilized contrast to the dark machines. You take a step closer to the window, now focused on the movement behind the glass. The machines look to be working on something. You can’t exactly grasp the scale, as parts are distributed throughout the room and spread even to the window’s limit of visibility, but it is still clear from the sheen that it’s not made of quite the same things as the machines handling it and assembling it. Even now, the scale of what the King Institute truly specializes in evades you. You scoot a little bit closer. Maybe if you lean in far enough you can make out any basis of what this is supposed to be. “You don’t belong here.” You snap backwards, whirling around at the sudden deep and accusatory voice that had interrupted your thoughts. Behind you is a break in the hallway, a long corridor behind you that you hadn’t noticed previously. It’s dark, darker than it probably should be, and you have to move yourself slightly so that the blue light coming from the window behind you shines enough on the stranger’s face to illuminate them. They’re a man, tall and dark, with long loose waves of black hair spilling to his shoulders. His eyes are a dark green, and settle upon you like you should be withering to a smoke under his gaze. You can’t blame him- you certainly want to right now. What strikes you most however, isn’t his eyes or his words, but instead his outfit. You’ve heard stories of powerful knights, they’re just about everywhere you turn in these righteous stories, but seeing the gleaming armor in front of you now, they’ve never felt more real. There’s a bluish tint to the plated armor. The sharp edges. The insignia of a stylized crown on the chest plate. There’s no sword on his hip, but there might as well be, with the stare he gives you that cuts through you just as sharply. Each part and piece covers his skin, and he wears it like a prize. A lump rises in your throat as you meet his eyes, the deep green meeting your own. The green should feel lush, should feel like a refreshing splash of color in contrast to the dulled hues of the personality-less grays that suffocate the space around you. But it instead feels like something lurking in the dark, something //burning// with barely-restrained patience. And you just know in that moment that that patience, however small, is the thing keeping you from truly being in danger. The stranger crosses his arms. You hear the clink of the armor as he settles echo down the hall. <<if $nervous > 50>>You instantly break eye contact and take a step back, staring at the ground to your side in order to avoid even catching sight of his armor-clad boots. You hear him huff out a breath, but thankfully he does not grow closer. “I’m- I’m sorry I know I’m trespassing. I’ll be out of your way now.”<</if>><<if $nervous < 50>>You stand your ground and stare him down right back. It’s not like you to be easily intimidated, and you sure as hell aren’t going to stop now. Despite the wary feeling in your gut you narrow your eyes in turn and meet his scowl. “I was just headed back.”<<else>>You swallow and fight the urge to back away entirely. You’re not quite sure how far you’d get anyway, with the window inset behind you. So instead, you clench your jaw and stand as still as one could. “Sorry. I was just leaving.”<</if>> The man narrows his eyes further and lifts a gauntlet. The glove has sharpened fingertips, like claws, each studded with silver. “No I think you misunderstand, //beast//.” He spits. You startle just ever so slightly at the force behind it. “You don’t belong here. In this place. In this city.” The stranger tilts his head ever so slightly, and you follow the motion closely as if looking away for another second would give him the chance to pounce. “Watch your back shifter. And get out. History tends to repeat in a place like this.” You stand frozen for a moment as he leans forwards with his last comment. But he speaks it like a finality. This conversation is over. You don’t even want to respond, your adventurous spirit forgotten. You back up, even as he raises himself back to his normal height. The atmosphere in this space already felt tense enough, but the air around you now feels suffocating. And no matter how much you may want to push against it, you know you can’t stay. Even birds know not to fly above the atmosphere. So you turn and walk away at a pace a little faster than your usual, casting only one glance behind you as you do to see the same man standing stock still, watching you go with the unnatural blue still illuminating the side of his face and his eyes still piercing your back as you escape down the hallway, mouth wired shut. [[You feel him watching you even as you leave.|Do birds know when it’s too late to fall once the pressure crushes their lungs?]]

You’re casting another glance behind your shoulder at the no-longer perceptible figure down the hallway when the light finally becomes more apparent to you, rather irritating in its intensity compared to the darkened recesses of the stretch of walls now lost behind you. You shake your head to clear yourself of the moment, trying to forget the man you left back in such recesses. It’s easy to let go of his stare. Easier yet to let go of his presence. But his words stick in an odd sort of way. Not exactly how he said things, you’re used to receiving or hearing the odd cruel comment here and there, and it’s not exactly surprising given his getup and the environment you’re in currently. Instead, you question //what// he said as you abandon the hall entirely behind you. What history is he talking about? And why would this place specifically tend to make it repeat? You let out a breath, trying to relax your brow with a rub from your palm. <<if $proesthetic is "right arm">>Ah. That’s a lot colder than you anticipated. At least it shakes you out of your state a bit more.<</if>>Maybe it’s for the best not to take the words of someone wearing full plated armor at face value. Add it to your ever-growing list of questions. Speaking of your list of questions- as you raise your head you catch sight of Atlas, still posed at the front counter near the elevator, who seems to have turned to look at you right at the same time, as he checks you over for a moment before frowning, though you figure you don’t have any outstanding looks of mischievousness, as he mentions nothing. [[Next|box opening]]

Putting your phone back into your pocket, you look over to the sheathed knife again, fiddling with the strap still tangled in your fingers. It seems simple enough, you think. There’s a moment where you fiddle with it, but soon enough the blade is tucked neatly against your side beside your waistband, well out of view with a quick adjustment of your clothing. As you look back up, Atlas gives you a quiet nod towards the elevator, already moving towards it before you can get a word in. <<if $atlasstare is true>>The idea of getting into an elevator again doesn’t exactly put you at ease, but you remind yourself that he can’t actually do anything to you here. At least in any way that could harm you. Ruin your life, though? That remains to be seen. You steel yourself.<</if>> With a quick breath in, you turn and follow him, leaving your experiences behind you. Stepping inside the elevator, it is just as quiet as you left it. Atlas is paging through the file he collected once again, and you are left with the silence that follows. <<if $gknightmeet is true>>You are struck then, in the lingering quiet as the doors close and the steady, soft rumble of the elevator’s movement fill the space, with the memory of what you saw back down the hallway. Or more accurately- what you //didn’t// see. The tenseness that had dulled slightly returns to your shoulders, and you resist the urge to look behind yourself, knowing there was no possible way that you’d be watched without your knowledge in such a tight space. But it does bring something up. A question. You look to Atlas. Would he know what watched you was? Or maybe it was some type of security system he could identify? He seemed well-versed in the Institute at the very least. But what was saying you could trust him? He’s offered nothing but cold words and minimal explanations, would this just put you in even hotter water? You grimace. You… [[Tell him about the training room.]] [[Don’t explain what you saw.]]<</if>><<if $lancemeet is true>>Your breath manages to catch in your throat before the doors even close. As you watch between the crack as the elevator begins to rock closed, you catch yourself staring down the hallway you wandered down just moments before. The doors begin to slot closed, cutting off your view of the lobby, but seconds before they do, you spot something moving down the hall. You can’t make it out, yet in an instant you know what it is. Or who it is. Watching you right back. You swallow and it doesn’t quite reach your throat. The doors close with a small click and you blink out of your stunned state. Glancing over, you see Atlas still looking through the papers, unaware of what had stunned you so. At your attention, he looks over to you, raising an eyebrow as if to ask the silent question. Is telling him worth it though? You know for sure being threatened shouldn’t be //normal//, not even here, but the idea of letting on to something beyond you feels equally risky. You… [[Choose to tell him about the stranger you met.]] [[Make up an excuse.]]<</if>><<if hasVisited("inst eavesdrop")>>Taking the time to think, your mind drifts back to the conversation you caught before back on the floor that now rises above you. You were already left with questions upon questions, their vague words not helping the situation in the least, but the worry over potential attacks citywide are what strikes you most. There is a very real possibility that you’ll run into this situation in some way while you patrol the streets. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you know jumping to this conclusion is far from a chasm. It’s a tear, and you’re just about convinced it’s a deep one. You look over to Atlas, who still has yet to say a word. Could he at all add any detail to what you’ve learned? Or due to how you learned it- would he just take the moment to berate you? You can’t quite rule it out. You… [[Bring it up. Maybe he knows something to help you make sense of this.]] [[Leave it be. You’re bound to run into something sooner or later.]]<</if>><<if $atlasromance is 1>>There’s a moment in the silence in the elevator, where you look over at Atlas. Surprisingly, the moment you shared back at the desk comes to mind. It was brief, but there was something about the silence that you two shared. It was sad, like some of the pauses you have shared, but not unequal. Atlas flips through another page in the file, silent. You chew on the side of your cheek. There’s not many good things you can say about Atlas quite yet, but there’s a lingering feeling that won’t quite let you go. That moment, that quiet, that… whatever you want to call it. There was something in the consideration, in that patience that you could feel Atlas understood. Considered maybe. Appreciated? You couldn’t quite say. Feeling eyes on him, he shoots you a look, raising an eyebrow. The look of curiosity quickly turns sour as he frowns and without a word, turns back to his readings. You let out a soft sigh. Maybe you were looking too deep into it.<</if>><<if hasVisited("stick by atlas")>>As if to idle the time, you check your phone over once again. There’s still many more questions you want to ask, but you recall Atlas’s words once again telling you to be patient. There’s far too many questions to pin down here, plenty you simply do not want to ask Atlas, and far more that you know cannot be answered by him alone. So instead you scroll through your device, again double checking it for any tampering and finding none. Not like you’re quite sure what such a thing would look like under the Institute’s control. They //are// a tech company after all. Or so they claim. The rest of the elevator ride is quiet as Atlas continues to look through the file. As the soft chime of your transport comes to a rumbling stop, you spot the lobby and subsequently the doors outside spread open for you, a welcome reprieve from the rather cramped elevator ride. [[You take a breath and step out alongside your partner.|ride end]]<</if>>

You know it’s a long shot. You’re not even sure how to phrase it- how you’d even describe this haunting, lingering feeling of something so //wrong// that lasted for only seconds. But you have to try. If anything, it’s the closest you could get to getting something off your chest. “There was something I saw…down the hall in one of those rooms.” You start, crossing your arms over your chest and staring straight ahead. You don’t need to prompt for Atlas’s attention. The space is small enough. And you can easily hear his soft scoff echo off of the walls. “Where you weren’t supposed to go, yes I recall.” He responds, interrupting your speech but for a moment. You frown but continue. You can’t say you didn’t expect that response. “I //saw// something. Or…felt something really. I know- I know how that sounds but I was staring at these swords and-“ For once, you’re not cut off. You pause instead, the realization that you //haven’t// been cut off yet making you more hesitant than anything. Looking over to Atlas, you see him staring intently right back. His mouth is parted slightly, and his brow furrowed. He’s been listening. And you’re not sure if you like the look he’s giving. But you’ll take it as a sign to keep talking. “…and I saw something in the reflection. Just for a moment but it- I know what I felt. Is there…” You pause again, swallowing down the upset feeling that has been slowly rising to your throat from the deepest part of your stomach. You shake your head. “I don’t know what I’m asking here. But it was strange. I wouldn’t be mentioning it if it wasn’t important.” You finish, trying to make your words very pointed and very level. Just get the important stuff out- it’s the best you can offer. And thankfully, it looks like Atlas is piecing something together out of all of this, based on the way he’s leaned in. As soon as you catch his eyes, he moves back though, and quickly looks to the floor number ticking down, as if he doesn’t have enough time to respond in the ways he wants to. Instead then, he turns to you, an extremely serious expression on his face. “Listen. I don’t know what you thought you saw, but it’s for the best if you pretend it never happened, alright?” He asks, looking back once again to the lowering number of floors as you pass by them. You don’t have many left. “But I-“ “No. I know. Just- this //once// listen to me. It’s best if you leave the Institutes’s business to itself. And that’s what she is, Institute business.” He explains, quickly covering for the previous words that made you think he was trying to entirely ignore the issue. But his new response gives you pause. She? You open your mouth to ask more, but as soon as you do, the doors to the elevator open and Atlas lets out a sigh, already moving for the doors. He gives you a nod. At least it’s better than being lectured for running off anyways. You want to ask more, but his response strikes you. Your new partner is a very mysterious figure, this you know. But this facade drop in order to explain things didn’t feel like a curtain drop. No, it felt closer to peering out from it for a stage call. A warning. And the spotlights all on you. [[You exit the elevator.|ride end]]

You snap your jaw shut before you can say anything. What you saw…no what you experienced- is probably best kept to yourself. For now that is. Maybe at some point you can trust another person with what you swear you saw, but for now turning to the one person assigned to you as a pseudo-guard for the Institute? It seems like a bad idea all things considered. You’ll keep your cards close to your chest for this one. Until you have a better grasp of things, that is. The rest of the elevator ride is quiet as Atlas continues to look through the file. As the soft chime of your transport comes to a rumbling stop, you spot the lobby and subsequently the doors outside spread open for you, a welcome reprieve from the rather cramped elevator ride. [[You take a breath and step out alongside your partner.|ride end]]

<<set $lance_info to true>>If this man who approached you, //threatened// you, did so in such a public place, you’re certain someone else had to know about him. And Atlas seems like your only shot, unless some miraculous kind stranger appears out of nowhere to lower risks. You wait a beat. Nope. “There was someone down the hallway who I ran into.” You start, letting out a breath. “Ah. I saw you leave, yes. You do know you’re not supposed to be walking just wherever you like here, right?” Atlas replies while continuing to look through his papers. You twitch but ignore the bite. No matter how proud he sounds. “I’m serious. There was a man there he-“ You hesitate again, but this time to consider how much you should reveal. To keep cautious, you don’t mention the strange mechanism you saw in the blue-soaked window. You’re still piecing that together yourself, and it //is// a technological company after all. You instead, choose to focus on the more important details. “He was wearing some kind of armor. It was... slightly blue? I think? And he-“ You are cut off again, though not by your own thoughts. Instead, Atlas lets out a scoff that has a lot more passion behind it than you’re used to from the man. As you look over, he’s still looking at a page from the folder he’s opened, but his mouth is curled into a frown, the sharp end of a canine peeking out from his upper lip. A rare reminder that you two share draconic blood. “That //snake//. Yes, I know who you’re talking about.” He replies, muttering half of the words under his breath before he folds the file back up and checks the floor number as it gradually ticks down, as if checking the amount of time left in this conversation. Still, at least he seems willing to explain. “He’s like that to everyone, not surprised he’d try and corner you on your own. Especially if you were snooping.” “Hey-” “Anyways, he shouldn’t be an issue. We shouldn’t run into their group during our patrols.” You think over his wording for a second as the elevator stops at the bottom floor and Atlas pushes the file under his arm once again. “Their group?” “Yes. A specialized group that handles the most important tasks straight from the Institute’s top. And you, Le Fay-“ The elevator doors open and you blink away the sunlight that floods the lobby, a small shine of hope that your escape from this building is close at hand. Atlas steps one foot into the lobby, eyes locked onto that desperate horizon. [[“You just met Lancelot.”|ride end]]

“Ah I- thought I saw something. Never mind.” You are quick to say, folding your hands in front of you in a fast manner to calm your nerves from showing. Atlas gives you a long look, but he seems more than happy to ignore you, and quietly returns to his reading. You aren’t sure you can risk telling Atlas about this. Maybe you’d get information, maybe not- but the very real possibility that your questioning could get back to the man himself is just asking for trouble and your head mounted on a wall somewhere, if the man’s getup is anything to read from. So just for now, you’ll make your excuses, cut your checks, and bide your time until you know it’s safe. You frown. Until you assume it’s safer. The rest of the elevator ride is quiet as Atlas continues to look through the file. As the soft chime of your transport comes to a rumbling stop, you spot the lobby and subsequently the doors outside spread open for you, a welcome reprieve from the rather cramped elevator ride. [[You take a breath and step out alongside your partner.|ride end]]

Bring it up. Maybe he knows something to help you make sense of this. You’re willing to risk it this time, this once. If anything, it may get you closer to an answer than trying to source up something entirely on your own. Like it or not- this man if your only tie to information right now. You’re beginning to think that’s on purpose. “When I was next to you by the counter… I heard some employees talking about something.” You start, hesitating as you watch Atlas’s brow wrinkle as you speak. You know he’s about to start lecturing you, about to start telling you all about how you shouldn’t have involved yourself, but you catch the look before he even opens his mouth. Not this time. “What’s happening out there, Drake? People are dying? Firespitters? And their ‘territory’?” You start before he can interrupt, raising a hand in exasperation. It’s not like you’re not used to feeling out of your depth by now, but the added questions certainly don’t make the load feel any lighter. It’s not even your business to get involved with any of this. Then why do you feel the need to bring it up? “Le Fay I mentioned not to bother with questions until we started work, remember? Besides, what were you thinking listening in on official business like that?” You blink for a second. <<if $kind > 50>>“I just wanted to ask. There are people hurting, right? And it’s our job to help? Can’t I help too?” You try to stop the emotion from rising to the surface, but you can’t help the way your face heats up ever so slightly. Why is he so immovable on this? Shouldn’t you two be working together?<</if>><<if $kind < 50>>“Aren’t //you// the one who forced me to help out? Why block me out now?” You growl, trying to keep your voice down as the elevator already echoes your words louder than you can control. Your words come out spitting then, hissed through a tight jaw and locked teeth. You’ve already been forced into this situation- a lecture on how to do it properly is the last thing you need.<</if>> Atlas just scoffs, rolling his eyes in a way that makes it extremely obvious how he feels about your point. Or rather, your presence. “It //is// our problem. But you can’t just run around trying every back door and sneaky way to clue yourself in. There’s a process to it all. A legal process.” He explains, raising the file he has splayed in his hands. “A right way of doing things. Be patient and follow the rules and this will be over before you know it. Got it?” You frown, glancing over to the file he’s now folded back up under an arm as Atlas turns away from you, not waiting for an answer. At least you know what the mission is focused on. You stare at the back of Atlas’s head for a second. Well- what you could be starting on at least. The elevator opens with a soft chime as you blink away the flood of natural light that seems to overwhelm the fluorescents all around you. From inside the elevator you can see the whole lobby open up to you again, a previously uncomfortable space now seemingly calm in comparison to the upper level. If certainly helped by its proximity to the exit. [[Next|ride end]]

Leave it be. You’re bound to run into something sooner or later. The idea of telling Atlas everything doesn’t sit quite right with you. Whether it be the clear mistrust he’s placed in you or simply the need for more information, gathering info from Atlas feels both too risky and not worth the effort. Maybe if you are a bit more patient you can get answers without pressing for them. Your new partner is hardly a friendly individual after all. The rest of the elevator ride is quiet as Atlas continues to look through the file. As the soft chime of your transport comes to a rumbling stop, you spot the lobby and subsequently the doors outside spread open for you, a welcome reprieve from the rather cramped elevator ride. [[You take a breath and step out alongside your partner.|ride end]]

Leaving the elevator is like a breath of fresh air. A fresh start that should be within your grasp and yet stays flickering at the edges of your vision like something you can’t quite chase yet. So instead you’ll remember that ‘yet’. That simple term that keeps you from the drastic actions, keeps you from breaking down. As the sun still shines— you’ll follow this until you no longer have to. Atlas gathers himself fully and leads you back outside, making sure to give a wide berth to the statue out front. He pulls the file out from under his arm, patting it into his free hand with a huff. “Alright Le Fay. Simple patrol for what’s left of today. We’ve only got to keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior and activity, but all should be fairly low-key.” He explains with a nod, already beginning to walk down the street. You notice, though, that it’s in the opposite direction from the place he had previously parked his car, favoring instead to head deeper into the heart of the city. Are you really ready to take all that head on already? “And as promised…” Atlas begins, trailing off his words to cast one look over his shoulder at you, the cold gray of his eyes seemingly lighter now under the sunlight above. “Ask your questions. I’ll do my best to answer them dutifully.” [[Next|walk qs start]]

You’re frankly a bit embarrassed how excited you get at the prospect of asking questions. But who could blame you? //Finally,// you think. //A start to some answers.// Because wishing for an end to the questions feels like a bigger beast than you’re willing to admit. But for now— you can focus on the most pressing questions. “Why me?” It’s the first question that hits you, and as open and blatant it is, it’s the question that has bothered you the most from the start. You watch Atlas’s shoulders droop, as if he had been waiting for this question, and see him look both ways before crossing the street, you following close behind, intent on seeing his answer to this one. “Don’t take this personally, but it could’ve been anyone.” He responds, folding the file underneath his dark trench coat as he pockets his hands. You’re struck by the bluntness of the answer, but stay quiet, attempting to prompt him into an explanation. It works, thank goodness. “Well, anyone within a healthy and relatively able-bodied criteria, that is.” He casts a look over to you. You wrinkle your brow. <<if $disablity is true>>That one felt pointed. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth.<</if>> “Point is, due to an uptick in crime and civilian distrust, there is a need for a ‘common-ground negotiator’ as they put it. The King Institute needs a hands-on approach to the community, and you’re a part of that. There’s other motions in play, of course, the Institute is not one to underestimate the needs of the city, but they’re beyond you or I at this moment.” Atlas continues to explain as you two walk. You can’t help but notice him raise himself a bit taller and puff out his chest just the sliiiightest bit as you pass by thicker and thicker crowds. Whether it’s due to the desire to show off his professionalism in some weird way or instead genuine pride overcoming him with the subject being raised, you’re not quite sure, but you quite honestly do not want to break down the psyche of the man any further right now. [[Next|any further right now.]]

“So I’m… a beta experiment? A trial run for some fake grassroots campaign in a city I just got to?” You ask, unable to keep the confusion and slight disdain out of your voice. It’s incredibly difficult to keep yourself together, not helped by the growing commotion around you as you travel deeper and deeper into the streets. It feels…almost tragic acknowledging that this could’ve involved anyone else. Anyone else could’ve been forced into this and you having no choice in the matter all due to your ill-timed arrival makes you a bit sicker in your stomach than you’d like to admit. Damn. Makes the whole hassle feel even more fruitless then, knowing that the Institute could quite literally have had anyone else replacing you at an instant's notice. Your hand idles once again on the device closed over your throat. Could you really put anyone else into this situation though? “Then what’s so important that you need so much extra help? What’s going on Drake? Why’s everything going wrong //now?//” You follow up with, quick to snap out your second question before your partner can inevitably distract from the conversation and avoid it altogether. The sound of daily life around you keeps you grounded, as strange as it sounds, and despite the noise, you’re able to keep up with the conversation quite well. This answer, however, seems to take Atlas a bit longer, as he continuously casts looks at the people around him as if any one of them could eavesdrop in one moment, and turn him inside out in another for daring to spill such words. “It’s…a complicated matter to put it simply.” He responds, matching his pace to yours more properly and lowering his voice as he continues to gaze out over the crowds. He looks like he’s waiting to jump at any notice. [[“To put it less simply, it’s a murder.”]]

You almost freeze in your steps. Faltering for just a moment, you hear a quick squeal from a small lady as she squeezes past you, gone before you can apologize. You attempt to right yourself and pick back up the pace, not able to ignore how you felt the drain of blood from your face at the words. Murder? Like- //murder// murder? For you to…what? Solve? Seek justice? Continue? The complications rise instantly, and for once you entirely understand Atlas’s position in explaining this one. And damn you do not envy him. “Wh-what the hell? Murder? Who? What? Wh-and we’re involved //why//?” You ask, now also trying to keep your voice down. It’s a more difficult task than you really anticipate, managing to hiss out the words rather than speak them. But from the frown on Atlas’s face, you know he’s heard you. He reaches back into his coat and hands you the folder he had been carrying around. Your lifeline to the answers. As you open it and begin to page through, your partner begins to expand upon the subject. “The man was named Scott Camlann, aged 53, found dead in an alley south-side of the Brimstone gang’s territory.” He starts, giving you and the paper a look before again turning his gaze outwards, eyes narrowing. “He was their leader- of the Brimstone gang that is. They’re a bunch of punks and criminals, awful company really, and an even greater threat to the city overall. Very well-known. But they wouldn’t act rashly under Camlann, that is…” You connect the dots as he speaks, sliding your thumb softly over the paper. “Before he was killed.” You pause in your reading to look over to Atlas, feeling your mouth begin to dry. “So now there’s a killer on the loose. Someone who risked it all to kill an important figurehead and who got away with it.” Atlas looks… slightly put-off by your words. You just stare back, confused about what you got wrong. Was there something you were missing? He looks away, and you take it as a sign to continue reading. “More importantly, there’s a power vacuum. And that means all the other lowest of the lows come crawling out from the depths in order to claim that power. There’s nothing official yet, but they’re jockeying for a position at the top and good people are getting caught in the middle of it.” You hear him elaborate. It feels stupid to ignore the elephant in the room, the murderer that could quite literally be getting away with it all and planning something far worse, but you hesitate as you spot the file date. It’s been a week. A week and two days since this man was murdered and there’s no info to go off of. No one claiming fame for his murder, no clues or hints, nothing. Just lines of dialogue on the rising rates of crime, the rising rates of murder and injuries, the rising rate of your heartbeat as you struggle to put things together. This feels like an impossible task, a larger-than-life crime movie come to life that you have been forcibly cast into. You know Atlas is your partner in this, he’s supposed to help, but how are patrols supposed to handle this? Is he expecting to run into clues as they develop? [[Your head feels like it cracks open.|migrane start]]

Just in time, you manage to muffle the scream before it rips out of your throat. You can’t help the physical reaction though, your body stumbling back further and further as you clench your eyes closed and grab at your head with both hands, attempting to quell the shakes that wreak your body as the migraine continues at an agonizingly slow pace. You distantly hear your name being called, but cannot focus on it as your back hits a wall, shocking you out of things only for a split second before you are pulled back under a wave of pain that leaves you trembling. You slide down the solid wall behind you, hands pressed to your eyes in order to keep them shut. You //must// keep them shut. Wave after wave of pain envelops you, overwhelming your senses and blinding you to your surroundings for a nauseating couple of seconds. All noise outside of your periphery sounds muddled, soft beneath the sound of blood in your ears, and for a moment, you feel a strange stinging pain around your neck, a sensation you aren’t used to. Because you are used to this, these headaches. They have followed you since you were small, beyond a point you can remember, but have been anything but consistent. What has been consistent, thank the heavens, has been the recovery. You feel the compression of your skull once again, but it doesn’t come with pain, instead a tightening of your body before it all suddenly relaxes. The sudden nature of it doesn’t surprise you though, and you exhale with the quick removal of the pain. It leaves you with a lingering warmth, and you raise your knees up to your head as you curl around yourself for a moment, panting slightly. [[“-Fay? Le Fay?”|migrane end]]

You raise your eyes, centering your unfocused gaze to the blurry figure of Atlas standing above you. He’s a few paces back, but even from here you can make out the look of concern on his face. It feels almost too little too late. You slide your gaze slowly to your surroundings. It seems like you’ve slid into an alleyway, a short breakaway from the hustle and bustle outside. As you gather your breath, your eyes begin to focus and you notice something as your ears begin to slowly stop pounding. It’s a poster, slightly torn and worn with some age, depicting the logo of the King Institute, a simple crown logo with three spikes branded onto the sheet along with some phrase that has been struck out with a sharp line of black graffiti across it. The graffiti continues upwards, a strange shape being drawn right above the logo. It’s what looks to be an upside down crown, but with the side spikes larger than the middle one, opposite of the original logo. Posed over the crown below, it makes the whole picture look like a set of jaws. On the side of the wall there’s some text spray painted in white to oppose the dark colors of the brick. “Carthago delenda est.” You murmur, voice faint and still tucked underneath your chin. You sit on it for a second. The term isn’t familiar to you, but you know right away that it’s in Latin. But why paint a phrase most people wouldn’t get at first glance? Quite honestly…you can’t be bothered to figure this puzzle out right now. “What happened? Are you…” Atlas’s words interrupt your thoughts, and for once, you’re grateful for it, as you look back over to him and see him a short distance from you framed at the mouth of the alley, casting a nervous look behind him to the passing crowds. A few people pause to stare, but the looks are nowhere nearly as bad as they were within the Institute. At least you can see pity in these gazes, as uncomfortably that reality sits in your stomach is. “It’s-it’s fine. This… this happens from time to time.” You respond, slowly getting to your feet as you slide your back up against the wall to prop you up. //Shouldn’t be happening at all.// You think. There’s no real lingering pain, but the worry of it returning keeps you from moving too quickly. You’re standing directly across from the strange graffiti, and stare at it for a second longer. “It won’t get in the way.” You say, answering the question you know is coming. Wiping some of the sweat off your brow, you steady yourself entirely, taking a few deep breaths before slowly but surely sliding your hands off of the wall behind you. With the confirmation you’ve just settled for yourself though, it’s more of a prying motion. It’s not over. What did you do wrong? Was this journey for nothing? “I didn’t ask that.” He responds. You drag your eyes to Atlas, who has a hand clenched at his side and the dropped file in his other hand. He looks…worried? Hesitant? Serious? It’s impossible to tell and you’re not quite sure why you still try. You’re really tired of this. “You didn’t have to.” [[You walk past Atlas and he doesn’t say a word.]]

The continuing walk down the street is quiet. Well, quieter without the both of you adding to the conversation. Life flows and continues past you like river water, and the rock you feel in your stomach keeps you tied down, even if your legs may be moving. It’s almost nice to see the world around you keep spinning. A group of sparkle-clad girls pass you by, giggling about something they exchange on their phones. An old man with a wedding ring older than he might be, sits to tie his shoes neatly on a set of short stairs. A kid with his front tooth missing tugs on the dress of his occupied mother, who shares flowers with a shorter lady leaning out of her window. It goes on. Atlas, at this point, has caught up with you, keeping pace and not saying a word. Probably for the best. You aren’t paying enough attention to him to really notice any specific movements, but even so, you can practically feel the way he tries to search for the words. You aren’t expecting anything. “Here. Let me see your phone. Unlock it.” He asks, breaking the silence while holding a hand out. It’s not really a question, so you sigh and hand over your device, eyeing him warily. You watch him open something and type something in, sniffing once before handing it back over casually and very quickly returning to staring forwards, brow tight. For a moment, you stare at him, incredibly confused to what he’s trying to pull, but in turning back to your phone, you spot very quickly what has been changed. “I’ve put my number in. If that happens again, let me know. The Institute has resources for this sort of thing.” He explains, voice lilted just the slightest bit higher before he clears his throat and steadies it out again. [[You say nothing.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[“….thanks.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Moving a bit fast, aren’t we?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]]

You say nothing. You can’t be sure if it’s a nice sentiment or a patronizing one, and you’re quite honestly too spent from your headache to try and figure out which one it likely is. So you simply nod, putting the phone back into your pocket. Atlas copies you, nodding stiffly, and becomes silent once more. The rest of the walk around is quieter. You still have questions, but the shake-up that your migraine put you through makes just opening your mouth a little more exhausting than you’d like to admit. But the silence is very different from what you’re used to with the company you’ve gained. You’re used to it being stiff, intentional, and almost targeted in nature. But this silence is easy. Well… easier. You still catch Atlas frowning deeper ever so often as he catches eyes with people among the crowd. The people who pass by, overall, don’t seem to pay you any mind. A welcome respite from the feeling of eyes on you constantly. But the looks you do catch sight of are odder in their variety. Most pass over you nonchalantly, some pause to take in the odd coupling you and your partner make, and some linger on Atlas. There’s a spark of recognition in those gazes. And something else. A look that makes them step a little further out of the way to avoid interfering, a look that you know all too well. Fear. “When we’re out on patrol like this, take careful consideration of your surroundings.” The advice causes you to blink out of your state. You gather yourself for a second, then tilt your head slightly, silently asking for your partner to elaborate. “Maintaining a patrol is more of a cautionary action than anything, and we shouldn’t need to rely on it as often as we do our resources from the higher ups, but it’s a good way to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior and discourage outside acts of criminal activity.” He explains with a nod. Shooting you a quick look, he rubs at his chin and looks ahead again, voice a bit lower as he continues. “Plus it’s uh… good for clearing one’s head.” You blink at him. Oh. Odd way to offer backhanded advice, but you guess it’s as good of a sign as any. You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, a soft, exasperated sound. [[“Ah. I’ll keep it in mind.”|patrol 1]]

“Moving a bit fast, aren’t we?” You laugh, stuffing your phone back into a pocket along with your hands as you continue down the street. You watch Atlas aggressively roll his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything, and isn’t frowning as deeply as before. You’re pretty sure he heard how your voice wasn’t really in it- how your laugh sounded a little forced. For once, you’re allowed to get away with this one. The rest of the walk around is quieter. You still have questions, but the shake-up that your migraine put you through makes just opening your mouth a little more exhausting than you’d like to admit. But the silence is very different from what you’re used to with the company you’ve gained. You’re used to it being stiff, intentional, and almost targeted in nature. But this silence is easy. Well… easier. You still catch Atlas frowning deeper ever so often as he catches eyes with people among the crowd. The people who pass by, overall, don’t seem to pay you any mind. A welcome respite from the feeling of eyes on you constantly. But the looks you do catch sight of are odder in their variety. Most pass over you nonchalantly, some pause to take in the odd coupling you and your partner make, and some linger on Atlas. There’s a spark of recognition in those gazes. And something else. A look that makes them step a little further out of the way to avoid interfering, a look that you know all too well. Fear. “When we’re out on patrol like this, take careful consideration of your surroundings.” The advice causes you to blink out of your state. You gather yourself for a second, then tilt your head slightly, silently asking for your partner to elaborate. “Maintaining a patrol is more of a cautionary action than anything, and we shouldn’t need to rely on it as often as we do our resources from the higher ups, but it’s a good way to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior and discourage outside acts of criminal activity.” He explains with a nod. Shooting you a quick look, he rubs at his chin and looks ahead again, voice a bit lower as he continues. “Plus it’s uh… good for clearing one’s head.” You blink at him. Oh. Odd way to offer backhanded advice, but you guess it’s as good of a sign as any. You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, a soft, exasperated sound. [[“Ah. I’ll keep it in mind.”|patrol 1]]

You’ve made it a considerable distance from the middle of the city, where the Institute’s skyscraper was located, when Atlas suddenly perks. The crowd around you has slowly but surely lessened in their numbers, and the space gives you a clear look at what your partner is staring at. Across the street is a vendor, an older woman with a thick Hispanic accent and a whiplike dragon tail peeking out from under her dress, waving about some kind of hot dog, though from this distance making out what exactly she specializes in is difficult. Doesn’t seem to deter Atlas though, as he sets his face into a frown and ticks up his head in your direction, requesting you to follow along. Despite your better judgement, you do so, following at a distance behind the man as he looks both ways and quietly crosses the narrow street in order to approach her. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to interrupt but do you happen to have a license to sell those? Avalon city law clearly states vendors cannot sell food and refreshments without a clear and openly labeled permit and sellers license. Can you provide proof of these items, miss?” Atlas asks, surprising the woman as she quickly whips around to face him and raises her arms in a way that reads ‘who are you?’ the instant you lay eyes on it. Your jaw practically drops. No way. No fucking way this is his priority on a patrol. Weren’t there gang leader murderers skulking around? Threats and dangers lurking around every corner? Wasn’t that his claim? What in the nine levels of hell was he doing harassing this random woman? The vendor is quick to respond, cursing him out in particularly colorful Spanish, and Atlas simply wrinkles his nose and carries on, crossing his arms and taking an unmoving stance in front of her. Oh dear lord. This was going to be //painful//. [[“Miss, please cooperate. If I can just see your papers…”|patrol 2]]

“….thanks.” You’re not quite sure what to say. Is this a way of making peace? Showing some semblance of humanity- the bare minimum? Should you even be impressed? Why //are// you impressed? Atlas nods, quickly and quietly turning his head away from you so you can’t see the expression that crosses his face. But for a split second you spot the shine in his eyes. And you feel a little responsible for that. The rest of the walk around is quieter. You still have questions, but the shake-up that your migraine put you through makes just opening your mouth a little more exhausting than you’d like to admit. But the silence is very different from what you’re used to with the company you’ve gained. You’re used to it being stiff, intentional, and almost targeted in nature. But this silence is easy. Well… easier. You still catch Atlas frowning deeper ever so often as he catches eyes with people among the crowd. The people who pass by, overall, don’t seem to pay you any mind. A welcome respite from the feeling of eyes on you constantly. But the looks you do catch sight of are odder in their variety. Most pass over you nonchalantly, some pause to take in the odd coupling you and your partner make, and some linger on Atlas. There’s a spark of recognition in those gazes. And something else. A look that makes them step a little further out of the way to avoid interfering, a look that you know all too well. Fear. “When we’re out on patrol like this, take careful consideration of your surroundings.” The advice causes you to blink out of your state. You gather yourself for a second, then tilt your head slightly, silently asking for your partner to elaborate. “Maintaining a patrol is more of a cautionary action than anything, and we shouldn’t need to rely on it as often as we do our resources from the higher ups, but it’s a good way to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior and discourage outside acts of criminal activity.” He explains with a nod. Shooting you a quick look, he rubs at his chin and looks ahead again, voice a bit lower as he continues. “Plus it’s uh… good for clearing one’s head.” You blink at him. Oh. Odd way to offer backhanded advice, but you guess it’s as good of a sign as any. You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, a soft, exasperated sound. [[“Ah. I’ll keep it in mind.”|patrol 1]]

You have to turn away, pinching the bridge of your nose hard enough to leave a mark. This could not be more embarrassing. Even thinking that, you know it’ll only get worse the longer it goes on. Already, people on the lingering edges of the conversation begin to listen in, some even approaching closer to get a better look at the argument slowly beginning to boil between the two. Dear god dear god dear god. You take a slide-step away from him, refusing to be caught up in the disaster Atlas is already making for himself. You’re beginning to understand why he needed a partner to be able to connect with the people. Before you can do anything more however, you’re distracted by a sudden crash close to you. Looking over, you see a man shuffling out of the way of a short metal trash can he had just knocked over, leaving the edges of an alleyway in order to turn his back to you and start walking quickly towards a cramped street packed full of vendors and activity. You don’t mean to linger on him as long as you do, at first simply intrigued by the lighter green scales that speckle the sides of his neck, but before you can return to attending your current situation, something catches your eye. Well, more accurately, shines a light right into it. You hiss for a second and cover them, peering out once the shine dies down to spot the culprit. A small, silver disc quietly shoved into the man’s front hoodie pocket. It shouldn’t be enough to stop you in your tracks, but you recognize something with a start. Enraged on the flat top end is a crown, the very one that’s been haunting your arrival into the city ever since you stepped foot inside. Institute tech. [[But what’s this stranger doing with it?|patrol 3]]

“Hey Drake?” You ask, eyes still ahead following the man steadily growing more and more distant as every second passes. Something doesn’t feel right. “Would suspicious behavior include possibly stolen Institute tech?” “Le Fay— please. I’m trying to deal with something here.” Atlas responds, voice snappy and to the point. “Ma’am if you can’t provide the necessary papers I’m going to have to ask for-“ “Drake!” You shout suddenly, whipping around to face him. <<if $nervous > 50>> You’re not sure where the surge of action comes from. But the situation doesn’t sit right with you, and the more time he kills, the quicker this person has to get away. So nerves be damned. You’ve got a report to fill.<</if>> Atlas snaps to attention in turn, a bit shocked at your shouting. You don’t let him get a word in as you point behind you, directing his eye to the stranger who now, after hearing your yelling, has begun to fully book it towards the crowded street. “I- I-“ He sputters, seemingly too caught off guard to put together a plan of action. He looks between you and the vendor before seemingly making up his mind about something. “Well— what are you waiting for? Get him! I’ll be right behind you!” He shouts back, his face flushing with frustration. You gawk at him. “What? I thought that was //your// job! Can’t you leave this for another time?” You exclaim, whipping around once again to spot the man quickly disappearing into the crowd. At this rate neither of you will catch up. “I have to finish things here! Just— just go Le Fay!” He chokes out, shoulders now set very tense as he looks between you and the escaping stranger.<<if $kind < 50>> You resist the urge to pull your own hair out. Whatever! Fine! If that’s what it takes to get out of here. You scowl at Atlas in resignation.<</if>><<if $kind > 50>> You sputter right back. This cannot be happening. All for the vendor? You take a breath to steady yourself and shoot Atlas an exhausted look, hoping he’ll sympathize. Fine.<<else>> You let out a rather loud huff. Fine.<</if>> You spin around and begin to race towards the bustling street. You need to catch up with this man. And fast. Catching up on foot alone, you worry, may not get you there in time. [[So you transform.][$humanstat to Math.clamp($humanstat -10, 0, 100)]] [[You can figure out another way to deal with this.][$humanstat to Math.clamp($humanstat +10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $shifted to true>><<set $firstshift to true>>There’s one way you know for certain you’ll have the leg up on this. Or at least an advantage. And it’s the same sense of self you must twist then, in order to acknowledge this shift. This change. <<if $dragonpride is true>>Calling this your “other” form has always felt dishonest. Another form implies it is different from you. A different being with dissimilar interests, different ideals, and an entirely separate history from yourself. But that isn’t true. The only reason this self lingers under your skin is because it must. This is you and even more. A truth you are the only arbiter of. A snake sheds their skin. You evolve into yours.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You can shift as easily as blinking. And it feels like that sometimes too. One moment you’re looking through one set of eyes and the next- anothers. When you were a child, you’d heard stories of selkies, mythic people who had coats of seal skin they used to transform into the very seals they draped over themselves. That story has always felt right to you, at least as the easiest way to explain this shift between you and this second form. It’s like putting on a new skin.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>><<set $fearshift to true>>You don’t want to do this. You really don’t want to do this. If you had the confidence to do anything more, you might’ve chosen otherwise. But you know the advantages this form gives you. You’re faster, stronger, //sharper// like this. Just because you hate it and can imagine every possible comment and look thrown your way doesn’t mean there’s an easier way out of this. The way it constricts your throat isn’t something to be ignore though. It’s like a dog being dragged from a warm cage. Maybe it wasn’t better inside but here? You’re being dragged straight into the fighting ring.<</if>> It’s instinctual, the way you narrow in on yourself. It’s the obliteration of bone, the boiling of your cells. And you never feel it. It does not hurt. That is, until the shock to your neck that stops everything in its tracks before you can begin. You spit in shock, landing hard on a knee as you prop yourself up with an arm and choke in a gasp through a tight jaw. The breath you let leave you is shuddering, and you raise your free arm, hesitating just before you touch the device around your throat. It hasn’t tightened, you can still breathe, but it’s through stinging bouts of pain that don’t allow you to change any further. What the hell? <<if $disability is "hoh">>Honestly, you’re more surprised that your hearing aid didn’t buzz out due to the shock. Even more stunned your ears didn’t start ringing. Glad for both.<</if>> You realize then that you shouldn’t have been able to transform in the first place, and acting on instinct left you in this vulnerable position, but the pains are not from the //inability// to change. It is from the //disallowance// of change. You grit your teeth as the ebbing pain slides away finally, allowing you to think more clearly. And the realization comes to you like a cold wire snapped taut similarly around your neck. Atlas lied. You shoot a look behind you at your partner who stares back at you with wide eyes. It looks like he didn’t expect you to try it either. You scoff. You’ll interrogate him later about this. Right now, the man is still getting away. And you’ve still got this //thing// around your neck. You point to your neck, hoping your serious expression gets across the severity of the situation. This is supposed to be your issue now, right? Atlas, for his part, manages to catch on quickly, and you see him wrestle with the ramifications of what he’s about to do for longer than you’re comfortable with. “Atlas!” You yell, throwing a hand out for emphasis. That seems to snap him out of it. With a very audible groan you watch him roll his eyes and pull a small box-like device out of his coat pocket. He flips a button on it and you hear a beep before there’s a small click and you feel the thing around your neck loosen. There. Your moment. You spin back around and take off running, hearing the clatter of the device as it slips off of your throat and falls to the pavement. It’s like shedding your skin. The air feels cooler and the light feels brighter. You’re free. <<if $dragonpride is true>>Finally. Your lungs fill with excitement.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>It’s been far too long. The opportunity excited you more than you anticipated.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>And that…that is terrifying. The realization has your heart beating fast. Or maybe that’s just the wind in your face?<</if>> [[It’s time.|shift chase scene 1]]

<<set $shifted to false>>No. No. You can manage without it. You settle your instincts to jump and transform, instead settling for the speedy pace of your own two feet. <<if $dragonpride is true>>You remember what’s still currently slung around your neck, and gnash your teeth at the thought. Even besides the obvious, you’re well aware of how dangerous of a situation that would put you into. The natural scale-up of your body in such a tight space doesn’t spell anything but trouble and right now? That’s one of the last things you can afford. Even if your skin feels like it’s prone to bursting any second. Even if your nails hurt and it feels like beetles crawling over your hide. You’ll bear it. Just this once.<</if>><<if $dragonindifference is true>>You’re familiar with this situation. Finding the right time to transform has always been tricky. The chasing down people through a street part? Not as familiar. So you’ll rely on what you know you can and what you’ve fallen into time and time again. Just so happens that this form is much, much slower than you’d probably like. You can make it work though. You’ve been making it work for years now.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>No. There’s no need for that. Just the thought of transforming makes your stomach churn and your skin prickle. What would the others see- what would they say? //What would they do?// Your eyes flash to the people littering the streets, and though they are mostly focused on their day-to-day, you can’t help but imagine the horrified stares you’d get if you even attempted to transform. And besides, you have a failsafe still secured tightly around your neck, reminding you of its presence as you swallow tight. So instead you keep running, shoes clapping loudly against the pavement. You’ll find another way. You have to. You //must//.<</if>> Racing forwards, you quickly recognize that there’s no way you’ll be able to catch up to this guy relying on your speed alone. You need to anticipate his moves. Especially as, all at once, he shifts. You watch as he goes from running upright to stumbling into a sprint on all fours, legs now larger, //stronger// to accommodate the change. A long, whiplike tail sprouts behind him and you notice as he catapults himself faster along, seen clearly now to you as a Firespitter, though you wouldn’t blame yourself if you guessed incorrectly, due to the pale green scales that litter his body. He’s changed to his other form. Where’s yours? [[Next|non shift chase scene 1]]

The first thing you feel as you shift is the jolt up your spine. It’s a spike of adrenaline shot directly to your brain, and instantly fires up your senses. You can taste the air, feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise, //hear// the pounding of your heart and the ground below you not as a sound- but a //beat//. It all lines up together as you narrow your focus and it’s //exhilarating//. On the very edges of your periphery, you hear the sound of something grinding together. It’s not piercing, but you know the sound of scales shifting over one another. Someone you knew once compared it to tectonic plates. You kind of admire the idea. It makes this part feel big. And big you become. As you continue to run, the ground below you grows noticeably distant.<<if $dragonsize is "small">> Not enough to really burden you though.<</if>><<if $dragonsize is "huge">> Much more distant, in your case.<</if>> Before you know it, running the way that you are starts to grow uncomfortable. There’s an itch to your shoulder blades that wasn’t there before, and you fall forwards. You don’t hit the ground though, instead continuing to race forwards now on all fours. The lumbering of your stride increases, as does your speed. In front of you, the man has spun around to take one last good look at you before he tries disappearing into the crowd, but taking in the sight before him causes his eyes to widen and you can see every detail from here. The way the sweat forms on his brow almost instantaneously. The way he favors his left foot to spin him back around. The smell of the rain, still drying on the pavement. [[The chase is on.|shift chase scene 2]]

As you try and keep your pace, mouth open in a dead pant as you run, your eyes quickly cast over the situation presented to you. The man you’re chasing dodges quickly and nimbly into the tight and busy street, people moving in and out of the way of both you and him. You curse breathily, stopping right before you hit the street as you recognize with a start that even if you tried finding some kind of inner passage to catch up, there’d be no way to find it among all this activity. You step back once, swallowing between breaths. Shit. Okay. Find another way in. Find another way forwards. You can deal with the complications later when you have the time to consider them. You spin and run to your left, nimbly gliding one hand on and off of the wall you slide close to. As you run, you slow just enough to catch any instances of break in the wall that you could possibly use to your advantage. And as you hand suddenly dips into nothingness, you blink to stare down a wider alleyway, catching yourself before you can fall and already beginning to move down the space. In front of you lies a sheer chain link fence, the tall wall of twisted metal topped with sharp spikes that reflect the gradually dimming light framed high up in the sky. It taunts you from all the way up there. And as you approach, curling your fingers around the cool chains, you spot something else. Well— someone else. The very man you continue to chase races into the alleyway on the opposing side of the fence, still in full dragon form as you can see despite his crouch he still manages to clear your height. He seems just as surprised to spot you as well, slowing only for a moment, wicked claws holding him still on the wall beside him, but says nothing, instead huffing once, a plume of smoke rising before him, before he turns and runs down towards the opposite end of the alley. You curse and curl your fingers around the chains further. Blast! He’s going to get away for certain at this rate. You have to think faster. Cmon. [[You can pry a wider hole out of this steel.|no shift chase stg]] [[You can climb up and over the fence altogether.|no shift chase dex]] [[You can look for a quicker exit.|no shift chase int]] [[You call out to him before he disappears.|no shift chase cha]]

There’s a flash of color to your side. As you glance for a second, you are struck for a moment by what you see. There’s a long row of split windows, each for some outfitters shop you couldn’t quite catch the name of along your side as you run ahead, ever so closely approaching your target. But you can’t bother to make out the apparel. Instead, you see the $primaryscale color as it flashes by, large wings tucked to the sides of a creature with an open maw, panting as $heshe <<if $pronouns_plural is true>>run.<<else>>runs.<</if>><<if $blindeye is true>>There is a lone $eyecolor eye<<else>>There are $eyecolor eyes<</if>> staring back at you, pupils pulled into slits that make the figure all the more recognizable. You turn your head away <<if $dragonpride is true>>and grin.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>and set your jaw.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>and grimace.<</if>> Ahead of you the man continues to race forwards, pushing past a pedestrian on his way and with a flourish mostly hidden behind the ensuing traffic, you watch him shift as well. He takes similar strides as you, going from a stumbling run to a full sprint, draconic form taking over as you spy that deep green from before fully overtaking him. He’s still too far for you to make out, and he didn’t grow much taller, making you curse internally. He could still get ahead. It’s fine. You’ll find a way. Or make a way. The pavement below you races past, turning harsh and hot as you run. Bellowing into the tight street, you’re quick to recognize just how tight of a fit everything is. It's akin to a marketplace, numbers of people shuffling between the sides of the path, various stalls and vendors passing wares back and forth. You snort for a moment. Good thing your partner stuck behind. From this distance, you can make out the man you’re pursuing easier. The spikes running along his spine, along with the strong front legs, make it very clear that he’s a Firespitter. That, and the sparks that shoot off from his mouth. Could have fooled you otherwise though. Aren’t most Firespitters supposed to be warmer colors? [[Next|shift chase scene 3]]

“Stop!” You shout. Clearly— that does not work. If the look that is thrown over his shoulder gives anything away, he’d rather tear you limb from limb then stop now. You aren’t really sure what you expected, but you’re honestly more glad he doesn’t test your confidence. You’re not quite sure of how capable you are against a complete stranger. Best to keep applying the pressure. People around you react quickly, either jumping out of the way, ducking to the ground so you can jump over them, or freeze in place, in which case they’re either yanked out of the main length of the street or aren’t enough of an issue for you to have to stop. One woman, caught crossing the street with her daughter holding her hand behind it, yanks her child up into her arms as the man in front of you rushes past. You follow suit, leaping over both of them into a roll before continuing your pursuit. Ugh. The more time you spend chasing this guy the more people who could get hurt. And though the man you’re chasing has avoided harming anyone yet, you’re not too confident he wouldn’t do so if it meant getting ahead. You put on some more speed, a low growl rumbling in your throat. There’s a flash of motion from the man. Something flickers as he raises his head. And then you see it. Above the two of you is a hanging beam connecting two rooftops, a flimsy board of a thing close to breaking. A perfect target for sabotage. In an instant, the middle of the plank is set alight. There’s a yelp to your left as someone runs past you, also in a draconic form to get out faster. The flickering yellows and reds run through the blank like decay, veins of ash quickly and efficiently splitting through the middle. You watch it as the wood groans under the new pressure and buckles. Straight for you. What do you do? [[You can slam through it all.|shift chase stg]] [[You’ll be faster above all this rubble.|shift chase dex]] [[You can think your way out of this.|shift chase int]] [[You can convince someone to help.|shift chase cha]] <<if $breathweapon is true>>[[Wait. You can use your breath on this.|shift chase breath]]<</if>>

<<if $stgadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>There’s a second where you doubt yourself. You panic for just a moment as the large object comes hurtling towards you, flames flickering far too close for your liking. But that lasts for only a moment as you narrow your eyes, maw widening as you exhale the breath that built up on your throat. No. You can do this. You’re basically built for this sort of thing, you’re not going to let a little extra hazard added on stop you. You snap your jaw shut and hold your breath. This might be a rough one. Before you make contact, you screw your eyes tight. You may be confident on your strength for this, but doesn’t mean you want to put an eye out because of the fire. <<if $blindeye is true>>You’ve had enough blinding as it was anyways.<</if>> That means when the length of wood //does// hit you, you hardly can see it coming. Only feel the way it breaks under your ducked head and tough horns. Only hear the way it splits and splinters through your tough body. Only see it as you blink away the embers that sting and bite at your face. They fail to burn you though, only singeing parts of your scales as you meet eyes with the runaway who throws you a look over his shoulder. His eyes are wide, unbelieving. You grin, wild and excited. You’re not down just yet. You hit the ground running.<<else>><<set $chase to false>>The beam hurtling towards you does so at a pace you can’t make up for. The panic that does set in is quickly shoved down, instead replaced by the sheer courage to try and make it through. Or maybe it’s foolishness. You’re not sure if you really have time to try and figure that out. You race towards the burning length of wood with that confidence, slamming shut your eyes and jaws as the beam lowers right in front of you. And you’re just as quick to shock them right back open as you collide with the beam, letting out a choked gasp as the beam does not break like you had intended, instead staying firm despite the weakness to its middle and splashing embers onto your scales. You leap back with a yell as your head throbs, thick hide protecting you from most of the damage but the pain still sends a shock through your system. Didn’t break skin at least. The beam collapses fully onto the ground below you, then, disjointed from its original path from your impact and collapsing into itself. You curse. The man ahead of you takes one look back, shooting you a triumphant glare as he does so. You curse again. Every moment you waste here is a further and further reach from your target. And you don’t even want to think about the earful you’d get from your partner if you lost him now. You jump over the leftovers of the beam, hissing at the heat that tickles at your belly and begin to sprint once again.<</if>> Gathering closer and closer, the man in front of you pulls a fast one on you suddenly as he whips his body around and turns to race down a smaller alleyway to your left. You yelp at the sudden turn, and go skidding for a few feet before your own spin, claws screeching on the pavement, and race down the same cramped alleyway. The sound of the crowd behind you begins to quiet ever so slightly. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]

<<if $dexadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>For a second you seriously consider pushing yourself to run faster and dodge beneath the beam, but the flame is still too much to risk. You’d rather take your chances with anything else other than being trapped under that thing. More likely- you’d end up with a broken rib or two if it didn’t crush you completely. So instead your eyes fix above, drawn to some distance your mind always manages to drift to. And then you spot it- a stack of boxes, precariously placed, leading up to a convenient fire ramp. Your mind instantly makes the connection. This is what you were made for. If you can’t catch up to him with these distractions in the way, you’ll simply eliminate them altogether. The crackle of the beam in front of you barely registers as you bolt to your right, leaping for the first box and jumping for the second before the first can even wobble. You ‘tsk’ at the time needed to make such a feat possible but know that you can make better ground up here anyways. The next box buckles beneath you but you are quicker, leaping to the top one as the pile below you begins to shake and lose valuable support. The leap to the fire escape is more tricky but offers more ground as the boxes beneath you tumble, causing an uproar from the people below. Curling your claws around the metal best you can, you haul your larger body up the flimsy structure, gaining a grasp of the top bar as quickly as you can and shoving yourself up onto the roof of the building. As soon as your back legs gain a grasp onto the stable floor, you launch yourself into another sprint, this time eyes going wide to scan the street below you. //There.// You recognize with a jolt, steadily picking up your pace as you pant. The Firespitter is still running below you, but haven taken a look behind him and noticing you are nowhere to be found, has seemingly assumed you have given up the chase. His gait slows. Yours quickens. And when he raises his eyes to spot you, you watch his expression drop. You grin a wild grin and leap off of the roof towards him. It’s a leap of faith maybe, but you’re confident in this as well. And it seems like the man knows it as he quickly turns tail, rushing instead for the alleyway on the opposite side of you. But no matter. You land with a huff in a deep crouch, a predator seconds away from pouncing. And pounce you do- right after him down the alleyway. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]<<else>><<set $chase to false>>Oh god. You panic for a second, watching the debris tumble towards you far faster than you’re comfortable with. Glancing around in a panic, you lock eyes with your seeming escape, a stack of boxes reaching high up enough to a nearby fire escape. Maybe from up there you won’t have to deal with this whole mess. So you jolt yourself body to the right, avoiding the issue of the burning beam altogether as you hear it collide with the ground with a crunch. Thank goodness you weren’t under that. Moving quickly, you jump up the boxes, stumbling from one step to the next. The ascension is slow, difficult, and awkward, and just before you can make it to the last box at the top, the structure beneath you buckles and you hear a shout- maybe your own, before the entire thing begins to collapse. You’re unable to move quickly enough to jump for the fire escape or mitigate the damage, so instead you tuck yourself in closely, letting out a harsh yell as your body meets with concrete. You successfully keep yourself from lashing out too harshly against the pavement, but the fall stops you enough to entirely halt your movement. And that loses you precious seconds. As you stumble to your claws, you spy the man in front of you continuing to run, casting a look over his shoulder only to glare and continue running. You look behind yourself, seeing the split beam behind you still smoldering. Well at least you got over that. Still- time wasted. You curse and pick yourself back up, ignoring the ache in favor of keeping the pace. Ahead of you, the man takes a sudden turn, splitting to his left down a tight alleyway that catches you off guard, but you’re far enough behind to be able to replicate the action and dodge behind him in the same fashion. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]<</if>>

<<if $intadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>With the hazard tumbling closer and closer, time around you slows. You feel your throat constrict and your eyes widen as the flames and wood draw ever closer, but the jolt of fear only lasts an instant until your instincts kick in. And your instincts tend to lead you down a logic-based approach. Your eyes quickly dart to your sides, taking in all the valuable information that sticks out to you. A trash can lid. A pile of boxes. A man nearby with tall, thick horns. Then you see it. As time still fails to move properly, you spot a pipe sticking out from a bunch of similar sets of metal shoved into a nearby box. Convenient. You’ll take convenient. Speed catches up with you as you tilt towards the pipe, leaning down to clamp your jaws down on it. You hear someone shout for you to drop it, but ignore it as you pick up the pace in order to reach the beam before it falls before you. Even as you close in however, you realize something. With the pace you are moving at and the relatively shorter height of the pipe still trapped in your jaws, you won’t be able to make it there and move quickly enough to slide underneath like you had planned. So instead, as you inch closer and closer to the falling debris, you duck even further- and shift. You watch your hand shift as you shoot it forwards, claws gripping tight around the pipe. <<if $proestheticarm is true>>Your prosthetic clicks and changes faster than you can catch, but as the rest of your body shrinks, you can see it shrink in segments, catching up with the rest of your body. Claws shrinking back into fingers. Soft whirrs as your wrist clicks into place with your forearm. All at once. And all so you can shove the pipe underneath the beam.<<else>>You see your $primaryscale scales sink back into your $skincolor flesh, row by row, edge by edge. From the look of things, you’re still not too surprised when people assume it hurts. It certainly looks like it should. Claws sinking back into nails. Scales shivering back up your arm like waves. All at once. And all so you can shove the pipe underneath the beam.<</if>> Flipping your body around, you spin onto your side, using the momentum from your run to slide yourself under the beam. You hear it as it hits the pipe, crunching and cracking beneath the sudden intrusion, but you only need a second. A second and you have fully slid under the threat. A second and you use an arm to push yourself upwards, pouncing forwards and landing on all fours, shifted back into your draconic form and giving chase with no interruption to your stride. The man you’re chasing looks back for a moment, eyes widening as he sees how close you are. And you only make his eyes widen further with a snap of your jaws so close to his tail that he has to swipe it out of the way and pick up speed once again. You follow close behind, stumbling only for a second as he dodges to the left, sprinting now down a tight alleyway. You follow. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]<<else>><<set $chase to false>>With the tumbling debris coming straight towards you and your incoming path, you panic, eyes flitting between objects littered around the area. You can make this work. You have to. But between the flames still catching your eye and the continuing shouts and yells of the people around you, time refuses to slow down and offer you any break to figure things out. You yelp and jump backwards, stumbling awkwardly back as the beam collapses and shatters before you. Sparks explode from the middle, causing you to hiss and lean back to avoid the worst of it. Through the rubble and haze of heat that wobbles the air before you, you watch in frustration as the man ahead of you continues to rush ahead, casting a glance over his shoulder to shoot a glare in your direction. You grind your teeth in order to avoid shouting in his direction. Taking a few steps back, you risk the jump and leap over the still-simmering rubble, ignoring the heat that licks at your belly as you do. Trucking in your wings, you continue the chase. Not much later though, as you slowly regain your former speed, the man you chase turns suddenly and races down a left side alleyway. You growl and follow right behind. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]<</if>>

<<if $chaadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>As you race towards the falling beam and it races towards you, there’s a moment of hesitation, just enough for your pace to falter. What could you possibly do here? What could you pull that could make this situation work out for you? You can’t rely on your speed or strength here- so what are you left with. As if to answer you, your gaze is caught by movement from a man standing nearby, closer to the impact site than you, with two large horns sprouting from his head. You know what you rely on. And this man just may be the key to unlock your skill. If you’re right about this. “Hey! Sir- he’s going to get away! Help!” You shout, slowing your pace just enough to make your words comprehensible. The man looks back to you, and watching the events unfolding in front of him along with your genuine and straight-to-the-point tone, gives you a quick nod, suddenly turning to the falling beam. You pick up your pace again, your jaw tight as you suddenly realize you must place your trust in this man to continue forwards. Though you focus now mainly on your front, you catch a glimpse as the man now practically beside you shifts. He grows much, much larger, and you quickly recognize the outline of a beefy lightningspitter as he rears back and- There’s a loud //crack// as his forehead and horns meet the wood, a sound far louder than you anticipated. But this stranger wouldn’t do such a thing if it was too dangerous to him personally. You hope. You don’t have time to check as you put on a burst of speed, not turning to check as you rocket forwards. There’s a slight whooshing sound, and suddenly a large crash as wood meets pavement behind you. You feel the heat from the plank as it licks at your tail, but you’re quick enough to get out of there before any further harm comes to you, a minuscule yelp exiting your mouth as you jump a bit at the noise. “Thank you!” You shout behind you without looking back, hearing a huff now much farther behind you now. The man in front of you casts one look over his shoulder, only to widen as he sees you continuing your pursuit. You grin. And who said people skills weren’t good in the field? Without another moment to spare the man spins and dodges down an alleyway to your left, causing you to curse and turn as well, following close behind. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]<<else>><<set $chase to false>>The speed at which the plank plummets towards you entirely catches you off guard, the incoming flames driving panic through your system. You chance a look around yourself in hopes of searching for help, but the panic not only clenches too hard around your head, making it difficult to think, but clamps your jaws shut as well, making it even more difficult to call out for any assistance. So when the beam finally does hurtle close enough, you jump back, adrenaline flooding your system as the wood comes crashing down. Embers spit from the wound in the wood, making you stumble back another pace to avoid the worst of it. Through the settling flames, you watch as the man you were chasing grow farther and farther away, casting a look over to you with a glare before continuing down the path. You curse and take a leap over the remains of the beam, feeling the heat of the fire lick at your stomach before you continue the chase, now further behind than you’d reasonably like to be. Before you can get too close, you watch as the man suddenly turns and sprint down a tight alleyway to your left. You shout another curse and follow behind, panting all the way. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]<</if>>

<<set $chase to true>>As you continue to run, refusing to let your pace falter for even a second lest you risk losing valuable time, something occurs to you. You have an ability like very few. Something that you can use to your advantage in situations like this. If you can do this right, push your power to the weakest point in the wood, you’re sure you can get out of this unharmed. And avoid any risks to other people in the process. Time slows for a second as the heavy beam approaches you. All light seems to narrow on it, and your vision sharpens. <<if $species is "frostspitter">>It starts at the base of your lungs, the very bottom growing outwards, creeping forwards in an instant, a deep cold that suffocates any warmth within seconds and spreads through every inch of your veins. As it rises, you feel it most at the back of your throat and neck, a cold that almost feels warm at first, yet does not make you shiver. You don’t need to shiver for this. You just need to release it. So you do. There’s a scream from someone nearby as they run from your side, and a sudden explosive sound as the frost is practically launched from your throat as a beam of pure cold shoots out of your throat and smashes into the burning beam. The crackling sound you hear isn’t from the embers though, instead the cracking of the ice as it solidifies around the center, a ball of clear, gray and blue spikes. And it’s presence gives you just enough time to slide underneath it and onwards before it comes crashing down behind you with a loud booming sound.<</if>><<if $species is "lightningspitter">>As you open your maw wide, there’s a clicking rattle you faintly hear behind your ears. It starts almost like the shake of a rattlesnake’s tail, then intensifies until you’re certain it’s the only thing you can hear. As the noise rises, so does the ridges along your spine, every end of your body alight with energy that consumes you from an unknown source. But you know it like a kindred spirit. A soulmate that crackles with energy and an uncontrollable fury hidden between the clouds. The clouds that just so happen to crowd in together and darken ever so slightly as you release the trigger. It comes with an explosive blast of light, just fast enough to go by unnoticed if it wasn’t accompanied with the explosion of the beam in front of you. As the wood splits entirely in half in front of you, your eyes catch a glimpse of the light fading and the fire that is left in its wake as the sky above you churns. You take the opportunity to continue the chase, now breathing heavy as the compression on your chest feels tighter than ever. You can smell the ozone in the air.<</if>><<if $species is "venomspitter">>You know your breath is nowhere near as flashy as the other species, but that doesn’t make it any less effective. Your venom doesn’t begin in your lungs, a myth proven false many many years prior, instead pulling from a hidden sac right below your jaw. You can’t feel a thing as it drains ever so slightly, instead registering the slight coolness that tinges the roof of your mouth, like a dim brain freeze. But it doesn’t hurt, instead this cold filling your mouth as you clamp it shut, relying for a moment on keeping your breathing steady through your nostrils. Your pupils narrow into slits as the frills along your back flare and you fire. The acid spills from your fangs and mouth and you can taste the odd tingling sensation as it leaves your tongue and shoots forwards like strands of acidic silk. You watch as the beam, burning and spitting towards you, splits through the middle as if the fire had finally weakened it too far. But the hiss that it emits, the way the wood caves in on itself- is anything but fire. Maybe it could be compared, but you recognize the way your venom eats through the object like it is nothing. You continue to race forwards as the beam splits entirely before you and falls to your sides, putting on a burst of speed as you do.<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>Fight fire with fire right. You take in a deep breath, feeling the flames in your belly spark, simmer, and flare up as you do. You’re feeding the fire that should begin in your lungs, but this one feels like it starts in your belly. Born from something like desperation to do this job correctly maybe. Maybe just nerves. But nevertheless it is born. And you only need to tend to it enough to create a beast. And with smoke beginning to pour from your mouth and nose, you set your beast loose. You spotted the bright flash of flames as the man in front of you first set the wood alight, but you //incinerate// this beam. The fireball, first struck towards the middle, eat outwards at the wood in seconds and consume it whole. You gave this fire a home, and now it must eat to survive. But the yellow and orange flames do not blast the beam backwards, nor do they shatter it in half to give you room to move forwards. You narrow your eyes. A parent-child reunion then. You slam shut your eyes as your body tears through the beam, the wood now weakened enough to offer little to no resistance, shattering instantly. You hear the crack and feel the heat lick and sting at your scales, but only wince slightly. Were you any other species such a move would offer much more than the little agonies, but the embers only scratch at this form. Your talons hit the ground as you do and you keep your pace, smoke and pieces of debris flying off harmlessly behind you as you run.<</if>> The man you continue to chase casts one look behind him, eyes widening at your quickening pace, and puts on another burst of speed. One that you are quick to replicate. Just before you can breach the distance though, he turns to spin down a tight alleyway to your left, catching you just off guard enough to falter you for a second before you are following just as fast. [[Next|shift chase scene end]]

<<if $stgadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>You furrow your brow. This guy may be faster than you, but you can rely on your strength here to cut through the nonsense quicker. You’re not exactly primed to test your strength against a fully-shifted dragon, but you can make a difference here. Even if it starts from something small. Your eyes lock onto a small hole in the wall off to the corner of the steel, a flap of otherwise perfectly formulated twists of metal turned upwards //just// enough to allow a shift. Or a tear. You grip the metal with both hands, bending your knees slightly and curling your fingers around the loops again, this time with purpose. It’s not exactly pretty, the way you have to tug and pull at the corner until it gives. It makes you gasp, readjust your grip, and grit your teeth far longer than you wish, and doesn’t give with any single pull. But it does slowly tear. Ripping loop by loop, piece by piece. And inevitably it gives- enough for you to make a sizable hole. You take the chance, shoving the metal above you once enough to offer an even larger window of freedom. And then you’re off, shoes slapping loudly against the pavement below. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<<else>><<set $chase to false>>There has to be something you can do here. Anything. You’ll just about start anywhere. Then you spot it, practically hidden in a grimy corner of the fence, a flap of metal separated and lifted slightly off of the ground, a break in the armor. You’ll take it. Gripping onto the hoops of the metal with both hands, you yank back with a grunt, grinding your teeth together and huffing out through your nose. Your legs, however, don’t put in as much as effort though, and you’re left scrambling backwards to center your gravity as the pavement below you slips and slides beneath your shoes. Damn. You’re not going to get anywhere at this rate, and the longer you spend here making a fool of yourself, the further and further your target runs. So be it. You’ll work with what you’ve got. Crouching low, you slide under the small hole, hissing as you feel the broken metal scratch lines into your back. But you can’t wait to asses the damage. You take off. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<</if>>

<<if $dexadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>Releasing the chain loops, you take a step back and asses the fence again. It’s too tough to bust through, and too wide to sneak past. But maybe…just maybe… You lift yourself off of the ground with one foot stood on one of the open loops, testing the strength while you gaze upwards. The sharp ends of the metal at the top shine with a challenge. //Make it this far and what then?// They say. You narrow your eyes. No. You can be confident with this. You must be. And so you jump. Or more aptly, you leap. Hands outstretched, focus narrowed. As soon as your hands meet the cold of the metal you grip tightly around the gaps in the obstacle, gritting your teeth as you refuse the urge to look downwards and instead lift your legs in order to push yourself up further. To you, it all slows down enough to allow you time to plan. Time to prep. But you’ve been told what you look like while you race like this. Your feet are fast— your hands faster. Curling, pulling, and yanking all towards the top. And when you reach it? You share a second of a glance at the sharp barbed ends of the fence, taunting you in their silence. Behind them the man is still racing away. You will not be taunted this close, damn the burn you feel. And these barbs will not be your end. With one loud huff, your arms yank your body upwards as you tuck your legs in and swoop them over the side, releasing the fence now behind you as soon as watch them disappear under yourself. There’s a moment of silent free fall where all your senses are alight, and then you hit the ground. You roll onto your shoulder and pop right back up in seconds, adrenaline keeping you ignorant of the pain that laces through your shoulder. So you run. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<<else>><<set $chase to false>>Okay come on $name. You can figure a way out of this. After a moment of panicked thinking, you do the first thing that comes to mind, however, and don’t allow yourself much planning or preparation otherwise. Immovable object? Meet unstoppable force. You jump for the fence, testing the weight but for a moment before you’re scaling it, fingers curling around each and every loose curl and open gap you can, the grazes of metal sending shivers down your spine as you climb. But then comes the inevitable for you- a small slip up in your footwork. In most situations this wouldn’t have been as disastrous, but this is no ordinary situation. Your shoe, still wet from the pavement below, loses its grip quickly and surely, just as you lift your other shoe to reach for another loop. The combination jolts your body downwards and just as quickly the shock reaches your hands, which lose their grip just as fast. Before you know it, you’re falling. Unlike the movies though, time doesn’t slow for you. One moment your posed in midair and the next, pain laces through your back, shoulders, spine, and all. Your head did not meet the concrete, saving you from a worse fate, but if the wind knocked out of your body and the ringing in your ears are a sign of anything- it could’ve been much better too. “Crap..” You curse through a groan, acknowledging your time loss with squinted eyes before you slowly regain your senses and move to your side. From the position, you suddenly spot a break in the fence in a small corner, a sheet of the links torn enough to the side to afford you a narrow escape. You’ll take anything. Sliding under the metal, you groan again at the protest your body makes at the motion, but quickly take off running as soon as you have ground to stand on, ignoring the pains. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<</if>>

<<if $intadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>You release the fence, huffing once in frustration as you shift into a mode you know better than anyone. Eyes searching, picking apart any and every detail given to you. You even cast a glance behind you for a moment, considering if there could be more opportunities elsewhere. But no. You have to focus on the present. And here in the present you spot a break in the armor of this towering obstacle. A flap of metal, chain links broken to reveal a small hole in the fence lodged in the very corner of the fence. Perfect. Now you just need to exploit it. To your other side lies a light metal trash can, a manipulator you can use just right. You rush over to it and drag it over to the hole, ignoring the heft you have to put into it, and quickly lodge it close to the hole. Prying the metal flap up as far as you can with one hand, you shove the can underneath the leftover chains, keeping the flap turned upwards and out of your way. A small ingenious invention when it was needed most. You duck through the whole and continue your pursuit. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<<else>><<set $chase to false>> You put pressure on the fence, leaning in closer to the wire as if you could phase through it altogether. Damn it all. As you stare, your target runs further and further away, slowly but surely disappearing down the alleyway. You try thinking, brain practically frying with the effort mixed with the adrenaline shaking through your body. Nothing stands out to you, absolutely nothing. The pavement below you is caked in water and dirt, miscellaneous trash littering the edges of the street. And nothing that gives you any edge on things. You spend far too long frozen in place, arms shock still gripped onto the fence, before you finally snap to your senses. If nothing is coming to mind then you can’t waste time here. Find a simple answer and it will always be faster than doing nothing at all. And if that’s all the wisdom you can come to right now, then so be it. You spot a hole in the fence lodged into the far corner of the wall, metal curled upwards like daggers. It’s still better than the top of the fence at least. So you crouch and shove your way through it, hissing at the sharp edges that catch your skin as you pass. You’ve already wasted enough time standing there though, you can’t a waste more checking your injuries. You take off running. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<</if>>

<<if $chaadd >=40>><<set $chase to true>>No. No! He’s getting away faster than you can think, and you know there’s no way you’ll be able to catch up if you can’t do something, and quick. So you turn to what you’ve relied on again and again. Your words. You open your mouth and shout. “Wait! Hold on- I might be able to help!” You yell, fingers curling tight around the fence. Maybe you’re speaking a bit out of your ass, but you’re confident in your abilities. Spoken through a honeyed tone or not. And from the way that this guy fled from you right away, you’re assuming you can at least get at some point of sympathy for the common ground of not wanting to be here in the first place. And it seems your intuition was right. Be it from the shared common ground or simply the words themselves, your target stops in his tracks suddenly, slowly turning his long neck to stare back at you. You can’t help but pause, however, and take in the figure he makes opposing you. Deadly teeth bared unintentional or not as he pants, narrowed eyes analyzing you, slitted pupils searching for any sign of weakness. Its easy to forget what you’re up against. Easier to forget that it’s a mirror. You swallow. “I don’t know what you have but that’s Institute tech, yeah? You know as well as I that stealing that sort of thing is gonna land you in big trouble,” You explain, searching his eyes in return. “If you hand it over I’m sure I can talk to my partner and-“ “False promises from someone unwilling to even face me as who they are,” The man spits, words spoken through deep breaths though they remain firm. “You should stay out of this, ally or enemy. Your involvement is only going to get more people killed.” With a final warning growl in your direction, he flips back around without another word. You curse inwardly, thrown off by his words. What the hell does he mean by that? //It’s not like I want to be doing this.// You think to yourself, pulling your body off of the fence. At least it stopped him for a moment. This is good you can still catch up. To your side, you spot a tight gap in the fence corner, a flap of the chain links curling upwards and out of your way enough for you to make a move. You’ll take it. After some shimmying, you make it through the hole and take off running after the man. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<<else>><<set $chase to false>>You freeze for a second, struck into silence with the multitude of options that gradually lose their effectiveness the more you wait. You open your mouth, unaware of what you’re doing until it’s too late. You fumble with your tongue, watching as the man in front of you continues to get further and further away. What are you waiting for? “Ah- wait! Hold up! I’m sure we can-“ You start, choking yourself to a stop as you see the man growing more and more distant from you. Shit. There’s no way you can even hope to catch his attention now. You stop a foot down in frustration and pull away from the fence, looking around for any possible exit. You spot it then. Off to your side, a flap of metal pried away from the fence, revealing a significant hole in the fence located in the corner. It looks small but you’ll take anything at this point. You crouch and pull yourself through the hole, hissing in pain as the sharp ends of the fence drag lines into your back. But you’ll have time later to check the damage. You need to keep moving. [[Next|no shift chase scene end]]<</if>>

Sprinting after the man as fast as your body will allow, your feet pound on the ground below, shocking your joints with each leap. The alley you turn into is large enough for you to move, but you still have to time your bounds in order not to crash into the walls that seem to close in around you. One particularly sudden brick wall catches you off guard as the man spins again down a further length of wall. Thinking quickly, you jump towards the wall instead of away, and hit it sideways, using your momentum to push off of the bricks and back onto the pavement, now a far leap ahead. Your target takes one final spin, but you’re ready for this one, and jerk yourself to the side just as quickly. Your limbs and lungs burn, but you keep applying the pressure. That is, until you spot him turning into an alleyway that stops with a dead end. <<if $chase is true>>[[Next|gang meet- success]]<</if>> <<if $chase is false>>[[Next|gang meet- fail]]<</if>>

Still unable to match pace with the man ahead of you, you grit your teeth and push yourself as far as you can go. As a dragon, wings tucked into his sides ahead of you, the man isn’t able to perfectly maneuver the alley either, bumping into walls and trash thrown to the sides enough to allow you at least a fighting chance. Your target takes one final spin, but you’re ready for this one, and jerk yourself to the side just as quickly. Your limbs and lungs burn, but you keep applying the pressure. That is, until you spot him turning into an alleyway that stops with a dead end. <<if $chase is true>>[[Next|gang meet- success]]<</if>> <<if $chase is false>>[[Next|gang meet- fail]]<</if>>

<<if $chase is true>><<if $shifted is true>>You take a running leap at the man, relying purely on instinct as you collide with him before he can run deeper into the alley. You’re not sure how he could escape from here- but you’re sure not ready to test his knowledge of the city versus your own. The breath is knocked out of both of you as you tackle him to the ground, both forearms quickly caging in his head while your back legs each press onto a vital point, his stomach and wing respectively. You watch him gather himself for a second, then stare up at you, eyes wide and fixed on you. He doesn’t seem like much of a fighter, struggling minimally against you but more stuck in shock than anything. The both of you stay like that for a moment, locked in a silent showdown that begs to be broken at any moment. So it is. “You bastard get off-!” The man underneath you shouts, twisting his body in order to try and get out from his position. You take one of your front talons and press it down onto his chest hard. “Hey, quit it! //You’re// the one who ran- give me back that disc!” You shout back, noticing for a moment just how much your voice echoes down here. It’s getting darker outside. “It’s not //yours// traitor! I didn’t take it from the Institute— he’s going to kill everyone if we don’t—“ There’s a shuffling sound that cuts him off. He slams his jaw shut, as if he had already said more than he should have. You blink at him. What? Who did he take it from then? The sheer panic in his voice has your hackles raising. His words aren’t the only thing that have you stilling though. As he gradually calms his struggling, you hear more shuffling. A scrape of metal here. A hushed growl emanating from there. The silence in between is louder than all of it. You freeze and perk your ears to listen. Then you hear it. A low hissing sound, like air being let out of a tire. Or gas whispering out into the breeze. It puts all your senses on edge and you lift your head in a fruitless attempt to spot the perpetrator. But you don’t meet eyes with a beast. Far from it. Instead your gaze locks onto the end of the alley you stand at the mouth at. It’s the opposite of a beast really: the flowers. They dot the darkness with color, bleeding into the edges of the bricks, still swollen with water from the previous day’s rain. Sunflowers, roses, forget-me-nots, all types of flowers litter the ground, packed on top of one another in a haphazard but stunningly beautiful pile. Various smaller trinkets and papers scatter the bottom half of the pile, laid among candles that do not burn any longer and the faint smell of incense you can pick up from here. And in the center, a photograph. You can just barely make out some figure locked into the frame, a man with dark brown hair and kind eyes. The water still stuck to the glass of the photo makes it look like he was crying. The sound of something falling beside you makes you jump. The man below you takes the opportunity as soon as it’s given, twisting under you in seconds and slithering out from under your grip. You don’t chase him though, instead transfixed on the figure that had dropped beside you. It’s another Firespitter, if the thick spikes and warm glow from inside their throat is to be believed. Your eyes widen as another joins them, this time to your other side. Suddenly, numbers after numbers of them slide out of hidden crevices, small passageways, linger on the edges of the roof tops above you. You realize it with a start. You’re surrounded.<</if>><</if>><<if $chase is true>><<if $shifted is false>>You put on a final burst of speed, ignoring the whine in your chest as you manage to race past the shifter and shove into his side before yanking yourself back and in front of him, skidding to a stop far enough ahead of him in order to cut him off from the rest of the alleyway. You’re not exactly sure why he turned down this way, but if your intuition is right, the action was anything but an accident. His movements so far have been all in order to stop you in your tracks, little luck that has had. You’re quite proud of yourself for making it this far honestly. The man now in front of you tumbles slightly into the wall, sliding to a stop and fixing his eyes on you, brow raised in shock. Seems he’s just as surprised. “Let me through, coward.” He growls, pushing off of the wall and crouching slightly. Your instinct tells you to listen to him and run, but you watch his body language closely. That isn’t an attacking crouch. It’s almost like he’s prepared to bolt in the opposite direction. Calling you a coward though? It seems like an odd insult, all things considered. Didn’t you beat him here? “Stand down sir. It’s over. I saw you steal that Institute tech.” You reply, catching your breath all the while. You catch his eyes flickering between you and the space over your shoulder. “No you don’t— you don’t understand!” He shouts, meeting your eye once again. He gnashes his teeth, a wild, panicked look in his eyes, but steps no closer. “I didn’t take it from the Institute— he’s going to kill everyone if we don’t—“ There’s a shuffling sound that cuts him off. He slams his jaw shut, as if he had already said more than he should have. You blink at him. What? Who did he take it from then? The sheer panic in his voice has your hackles raising. His words aren’t the only thing that have you stilling though. As he gradually calms his struggling, you hear more shuffling. A scrape of metal there. A hushed growl emanating from there. The silence in between is louder than all of it. You freeze and strain your ears to listen. Then you hear it. A low hissing sound, like air being let out of a tire. Or gas whispering out into the breeze. It puts all your senses on edge and you turn your head in a fruitless attempt to spot the perpetrator. But you don’t meet eyes with a beast. Far from it. Instead your gaze locks onto the end of the alley you stand at the mouth at. It’s the opposite of a beast really: the flowers. They dot the darkness with color, bleeding into the edges of the bricks, still swollen with water from the previous day’s rain. Sunflowers, roses, forget-me-nots, all types of flowers litter the ground, packed on top of one another in a haphazard but stunningly beautiful pile. Various smaller trinkets and papers scatter the bottom half of the pile, laid among candles that do not burn any longer and the faint smell of incense you can pick up from here. And in the center, a photograph. You can just barely make out some figure locked into the frame, a man with dark brown hair and kind eyes. The water still stuck to the glass of the photo make it look like he was crying. The sound of something falling beside you makes you jump. The man in front of you takes the opportunity as soon as it’s given, running past you in seconds and slithering out from your grip. You don’t chase him though, instead transfixed on the figure that had dropped beside you. It’s another Firespitter, if the thick spikes and warm glow from inside their throat is to be believed. Your eyes widen as another joins them, this time to your other side. Suddenly, numbers after numbers of them slide out of hidden crevices, small passageways, linger on the edges of the roof tops above you. You realize it with a start. You’re surrounded.<</if>><</if>> [[Next|gang meet 2]]

The shifter you were chasing ducks into the crowd, disappearing before your very eyes into the growing crowd of fully-shifted dragons. You back up as far as you’re allowed, body crouched low to the ground. Shit, shit, shit. Day one and you’ve already managed to piss off a whole host of very intimidating looking people. Each narrowed gaze makes you want to just disappear, but none advance on you. Before anyone can act, move, speak— anything, a loud roar rips through the tension drawn in the air. It snaps that tension, and similar roars follow from the group surrounding, but they are not nearly as loud and sound more like warnings. You consider for a moment taking the distraction and running, but freeze in place as you are blanketed by an oppressive force, far stronger than anything you’ve felt by this group. Then— a struggle behind you. You whip around just in time to watch a tall figure shove its way into the center of the crowd, circling you without touching you, and quickly separating you from the worst of the danger. The newcomer is a fully-shifted Frostspitter, incredibly tall and all sharp angles and serrated edges. His scales are white and a dull blue, almost gray, each inch of skin covered with the edges that pull away from his body as if each sharp end was poised to sting. Similarly intimidating are his horns and spikes, all of which look rigid and on-edge. He opens his mouth to roar again, snout wrinkling in a terrifying display as his maw opens to reveal a row of teeth that are as sharp as his outside. The closest Firespitters backup to avoid the tail that is whipped around and the head that flips back and forth between all figures, ready to catch any sign of approach or threat. You meet his eyes but for a moment, as the alleyway goes silent once again. His eyes are cold, narrowed in fury, and fix upon you for that second with a look you’ve grown accustomed to in the few hours you’ve been in the city. The deep gray eyes that affix upon you make you feel small. Like even though he’s curled around you protectively, you might as well be his next target. “Atlas?” You whisper. He blinks away from you in the next moment, twisting around you to step forwards as the crowd deeper into the alley moves. He’s quick to roar at the dragon who leaps from the crowd ahead of the others, a much smaller, even in comparison to her peers, Firespitter. Her scales are a deep and dark red, almost black, with eyes that glare up at Atlas with the contained fury of a raging wildfire. She’s quick to steady herself on the pavement, roaring almost as loudly back at your partner. She stands on her back legs then, getting in Atlas’s face to roar once again, this time louder and to a frightening background of similar growls and hisses from her companions. There’s a moment where the two glare at each other, and you look between the two, breath catching in your throat. These two could be capable of anything— and they sure seem ready to show what they can do at any moment. Waiting for an inch. Any give. [[Next|gang meet 3]]

Before the situation can escalate any further though, Atlas shifts suddenly, returning to a less, but similarly, intimidating form. You’re not quite sure of the purpose of this action, but as the Firespitter suddenly shrinks even further, you recognize the quick de-escalation tactic used. It doesn’t make you feel any safer though. Even as both of them grow smaller, even as claws turn to short nails, even as scales shiver down spines into skin and clothes rapidly turn back to covering the dangerous spikes, you still don’t feel safe. Maybe it’s because the look in their eyes remain the same. Atlas glaring coldly down at the woman, her glaring up at him with an all-consuming anger you can’t help but watch warily. The woman is short, similar to her draconic form, and wears an old battered letterman jacket, whatever college or team it had once represented now worn away by time. Her black hair is pulled back into tight braids that fall down to just past her shoulders, and her dark skin is blemished in various areas with scars and burns, small and large, one burn scar in particular peeking over the jacket top to cover a large portion of the left side of her neck. The right side displays the very top of a wavy-looking tattoo you can’t quite make out. She raises her chin defiantly. “Step back Hamilton. This is my new partner. Lay a hand on $himher and not even your little //gang// can help shovel you out of the hole you’d have dug for yourself.” Atlas growls, clenching his fists at his sides. You spot his teeth, still sharp, under his lips. “Oh good. Tell your //partner// to back off. This is Brimstone territory. Or are you trying to take that too?” The woman, Hamilton spits back. You look back and forth between them once again and crawl back slightly towards Atlas, <<if $shifted is true>>shifting back to human with a slight huff as you get to your feet and take a second to look at the dragons surrounding you.<</if>><<if $shifted is false>>taking a second to look at the dragons surrounding you.<</if>> Some have shifted back to humans, but others remain vigilant, picking apart your every move, waiting for you to show any sign of aggression. For once you don’t need to be filled in. Stand still. Stand down. “The only reason Le Fay followed you is because your gang can’t keep to themselves,” He starts, lifting his head in a slight gesture towards the back of the crowd, where you can see the man from before, now shifted back to human, standing close to his allies. His eyes are wide, but determined. “One of your own took something from the Institute. I’m not an unreasonable man. Hand it over and I won’t bring it up with my superiors.” The quiet murmurs and growls fall silent, breath held as the crowd awaits an answer from their leader. The two glare at each other for another long moment and she does not reply right away. “Consider it an extension of my condolences.” There’s a few hisses from the group at this comment, but with a quick glare from Hamilton, they quickly go quiet. She stares at them for a moment longer before raising her gaze to Atlas again. You’d hate to be her right now. You know firsthand how difficult it is to stand firm against that stare. “Fine. But dig your claws out of me and mine, dog of the Institute. If you’re not helping us, you’re against us.” She replies, stiffly jerking her head in the direction of her crew, who part to let the man you chased all the way here step forwards. He shoots Hamilton a look, but after receiving a reprimanding glare right back, he sighs and shuffles a hand into his pocket, pulling out the strange circular device you eyes earlier. You let out a breath. At least this wasn’t all for nothing. [[Next|gang meet 4]]

Atlas grabs it firmly before you have the chance, offering Hamilton a stiff nod, who only frowns in response, crossing her arms and passing a glance towards you. Something crosses her expression that you can’t quite make out, but it’s gone before you can pin it. Part of you can’t even make sense of what you thought you saw anyways. Why would she be looking at you with pity? “Come on Le Fay.” Atlas announces, snapping you out of your reprieve. You look between him and the gang, who part and begin to filter out of the alley, though many remain to stare holes into you and your partner. You don’t know these people, and you hardly wish to, but at least their stares don’t look down at you. You’re an equal, even if that means being hated. You’d prefer that over stillness any day. <<nobr>>You turn to follow Atlas. <<if $species is "firespitter">><<if $shifted is true>>A sudden shout directed towards you makes you pause as you exit the alleyway though. You turn, already tense, but quickly calm as you don’t see any sign of clear danger headed your way as you do. Instead, you simply see Hamilton, arms still crossed, staring you down from her unmoved position. “Hey newbie!” She starts, throwing you a quick nod before her eyes glance to the back of Atlas’s head, who continues to walk away. She looks back to you and her stare isn’t as angry. “Careful with that one. You can’t trust him- any of the Institute’s people for that matter, for a second. They’ll bite any hand that can’t feed them.” You stare after her for a moment, paused in your walking to let her words sink in. A warning then. Maybe the first inch of kindness you’ve been offered since arriving in the city, and it’s in the form of a vague cautioning. You can’t say you’re surprised. “Le Fay!” Atlas calls, waiting now much further down the street. You glance over to him and back to Hamilton, watching her stare back at you with that same strange look from before. You turn to catch up with Atlas.<</if>><</if>><</nobr>> As you pull away from the alleyway and back into the dwindling streets, various questions and worries fill your head. Not enough to strike a headache to life, thankfully, but the frown doesn’t quite leave your face. You look over to Atlas, who has remained silent the entire journey. He looks pretty pissed but hasn’t said a single thing. Maybe this is worse. [[“That was the Brimstone gang, wasn’t it?”]]

Atlas flicks his eyes over to you at your breaking of the silence, but doesn’t say anything. You’re going to take that as a yes. The implications of that spread from you like a wine-dark river, but for now, you’re going to pretend it’s not blood. You shake off that thought. Maybe he can clear some other things up. “That device— it's Institute technology, right? You know what it is?” You ask, watching as he turns the disc over a few times in his hand. It’s about what you remember seeing from before, even as your last view of it was rather obscured. A small, smooth disc-like object completely black with a small silver imprint of the Institute’s logo on top. It almost looks like a Petri dish. Atlas shakes his head and slides said disc into his front pocket. “I’m not sure. We can run it through my contact in the science and technology branch but it’s probably nothing. Just a part of a whole. That’s how a lot of the smaller devices get lost.” He responds with a huff. You… can’t help but feel otherwise. Maybe he’s truly ignorant, maybe he’s just lying, but you figure that disc poses more of a threat than he acknowledges. If the lengths the man you had been chasing earlier went through were a sign of anything, you certainly couldn’t chalk this up to just some useless part stolen just for the sake of pissing a few higher ups off. There’s a beat of silence. There’s still much more you have on your mind. <<if $shifted is true>><<set $collar to false>>You can’t help but stare a little at Atlas as you walk. He looks mad- madder than you’ve seen him before, and you have to admit it’s a little terrifying when he’s not yelling at you. It’s a lot colder, a lot quieter. You feel like a small animal listening for any break in the underbrush. You hate the constant need to compare yourself to prey here. You do, however, need to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Unlike most situations you’ve found yourself in within the city however, this truth does not wind around your neck. Instead it is the absence of the feeling that stands out more to you. That, and the recognizable bump in Atlas’s pocket. You frown. Right. His lie. [[Confront him about the device. You’re angry.|shifted confront]] [[Bring it up, but you’re not willing to make this any worse for yourself than it already is.|shifted leave]]<</if>><<if $shifted is false>><<set $collar to true>>You can’t help but stare a little at Atlas as you walk. He looks mad— madder than you’ve seen him before, and you have to admit it’s a little terrifying when he’s not yelling at you. It’s a lot colder, a lot quieter. You feel like a small animal listening for any break in the underbrush. You hate the constant need to compare yourself to prey here. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask, voice a lot softer than you want it to be. //You// don’t think you did anything bad, minus the few scrapes and bruises you gained during the chase. But you didn’t cause any unnecessary damage, you kept to your human form, hell you got the device back in the first place! All without help! “Other than run recklessly straight into danger without backup? No.” He replies like it was the simplest thing in the world. You choke. What? [[Call him out. You’ve had enough of this.|human confront]] [[Let it be. You’re too tired for this.|human leave]]<</if>>

“Reckless-“ You cough out, blinking your eyes in shock before the frustration overtakes you. “I would’ve //loved// backup you know! You were very busy if I remember that right. Too busy to help it seems.” Atlas looks back at you, his pace stopping as he affixes you with a shocked look that slowly turns sour. You hesitate, but glare back. “If you don’t remember, I saved your //ass// back there, Le Fay.” He hisses back, lowering his voice slightly to avoid the echo. There it is again. Le Fay. Your eye twitches. “These people are not to be handled with child gloves. You’re already a person of interest. One wrong move and it is //over//.” Your frown deepens. Arguing with this man feels like running in maddening circles, and it takes you a moment to wrap your head around his words. And to settle the spike of worry that shoots up your spine. Atlas senses your hesitation and speaks up again. “If you just listen-“ “I don’t even want to //be here!//“ Your shout echoes among the streets, the few people crossing by either stopping or avoiding you two entirely. But you couldn’t care less. Eyes clenched closed, fists curled. You’re not fighting another migraine, but you may as well be with the way you suck in the cold air at a rapid pace. Another moment of quiet and you finally pry your eyes open, staring at Atlas now, who hasn’t said a word. His eyes are dark but not piercing, and it almost deflates you. Almost. “I’m taking the disc back to the office. Go home, Le Fay.” He replies, voice much quieter than you expected. It’s still hard though, unmoving. He hands you the keys he had taken earlier, an address written onto a plastic tag attached to the keychain. You take it, blinking back over to him. He doesn’t look back at you though, still frowning, and moves past you, hands shoved into his coat pockets. You watch him go until the white of his hair disappears. That’s it then. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut and the sky only grows darker. Go home. You raise your head. The sky has been steadily darkening as you walked, and the way the darkness bleeds through the sunset like watercolor makes you pause and stare a little longer. You close your eyes and breathe in, taking in the moment for a little while longer before nodding to yourself, pulling up the address, and heading off. [[You’re careful to avoid the alleyways.|go home]]

You set your jaw. It feels like fighting up a raging river, and every moment you break your head above the surface, the current drags you back down into its icy depths. Cold, freezing depths. You shoot Atlas a look but keep walking. He’s entirely unaware of it though, walking just fast enough to not catch your eye. You wish this lump in your throat would secede, but it’s become increasingly obvious with your time here that the tightness in your lungs is something you must get used to. Hypothermia, you think. Fits the cold. “It’s getting late. I’ll take the disc back to the office. You go home. I’ll keep in contact, stay alert.” Atlas says. You perk your head up, snapping yourself out of your own thoughts. He’s looking up at the sky quietly, paused in some contemplation you don’t feel the desire to interrupt. Then, he turns to you, handing you a set of keys with a thick plastic tab attached, an address written on it that you can make out well enough as the lights of the city begin to flicker on. Without another word, he turns back and walks from you, offering not another word of assistance as he leaves. You quite honestly don’t feel up to speaking back. You watch him go until the white of his hair disappears. That’s it then. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut and the sky only grows darker. Go home. You raise your head. The sky has been steadily darkening as you walked, and the way the darkness bleeds through the sunset like watercolor makes you pause and stare a little longer. You close your eyes and breathe in, taking in the moment for a little while longer before nodding to yourself, pulling up the address, and heading off. [[You’re careful to avoid the alleyways.|go home]]

“You know, I can’t help but take it personally when you lie to me on my first day on the job.” Atlas stops walking, glaring over to you with a look that is less angry than it is tired. He knew you were going to bring it up. There’s your give. “Le Fay, the device was a precautionary method. I didn’t want you harming yourself trying to unnecessarily push things. Just drop it.” He responds, already beginning to turn away as if he’s ended the conversation. Oh no. You aren’t letting him just pretend like this didn’t happen. Not like everything else he’s dropped. “No- no! You lied to me about it! If you told me the truth I could’ve avoided it in the first place but you //lied//!” You shout at him suddenly. You’re unaware of where your bravery comes from. <<if $dragonfear is true>>Especially since you’re not particularly fond of your other form.<</if>> Maybe it’s misplaced panic from the moments just before. Yet still you can’t help the bubbling anger in your chest. Atlas looks stunned at your outburst, spinning back around to look towards you in shock. As soon as he’s gathered himself, a small hiss emanates from his throat, low and warning. “I admit I was caught off guard,” He shakes his head and turns to you with his full attention. “But your job is not to worry about your directions. You just do them. It’s simple. You can follow simple instructions right?” “I’m //trying//! If you keep things from me I can’t do my job- the one I’m being forced to do, remember?” You glare at him, anger boiling over further and further. The sky grows dark and your face burns. He scoffs. <<if hasVisited("shift chase breath")>><<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshipneg -=10)>>“Well if I’m being honest you’re doing a pretty shit job at it- you could’ve got innocent civilians //killed// out there with your stupid stunt today!” This part, he almost yells. Almost. You see his fangs flash. The realization hits you with a flush of something akin to shame. “I don’t know-“ “No! You don’t, do you? Using your breath in a tightly crowded area where you could’ve easily harmed others? It’s beyond childish behavior, it’s active endangerment!” You stop for a moment and swallow. It quite honestly is the best point he’s given, but you can’t get over the cruelty in his tone. You caught the guy didn’t you? Would he ever be satisfied? Noticing your hesitation, Atlas speaks again.<</if>> “If you just listen-“ “I don’t even want to //be here!//“ Your shout echoes among the streets, the few people crossing by either stopping or avoiding you two entirely. But you couldn’t care less. Eyes clenched closed, fists curled. You’re not fighting another migraine, but you may as well be with the way you suck in the cold air at a rapid pace. Another moment of quiet and you finally pry your eyes open, staring at Atlas now, who hasn’t said a word. His eyes are dark but not piercing, and it almost deflates you. Almost. “I’m taking the disc back to the office. Go home, Le Fay.” He replies, voice much quieter than you expected. It’s still hard though, unmoving. He hands you the keys he had taken earlier, an address written onto a plastic tag attached to the keychain. You take it, blinking back over to him. He doesn’t look back at you though, still frowning, and moves past you, hands shoved into his coat pockets. You watch him go until the white of his hair disappears. That’s it then. There’s a heavy feeling in your gut and the sky only grows darker. Go home. You raise your head. The sky has been steadily darkening as you walked, and the way the darkness bleeds through the sunset like watercolor makes you pause and stare a little longer. You close your eyes and breathe in, taking in the moment for a little while longer before nodding to yourself, pulling up the address, and heading off. [[You’re careful to avoid the alleyways.|go home]]

“You lied,” You say simply, shoving your hands into your pockets. You’re frowning, but trying to remain calm after what just happened is difficult. Why else would you put your shaking hands into your pocket after all? “Hm?” Atlas responds, throwing you a look over his shoulder before he rolls his eyes. “Oh. That. Listen Le Fay, I should’ve been quicker to the draw but it was still entirely unnecessary for you to shift.” //Like you?// You think. You remember that look in his eyes as he ran to your side. It makes you want to edge away further. You figure that was the point. “But you said the device would //suppress// that side of me entirely. Stop it. Not just punish me if I acted upon it.” You reply, trying to keep your tone down and leveled. You look to the ground. You’re certain it’s a bad idea to push it, but at the very least you believe you deserve some clarity. “I didn’t want you harming yourself unnecessarily. It’s a precautionary method, not a foolproof one.” Your eyes cut over to him for a second, frown deepening. The words were almost kind but the tone was far from it. That same, unaffectionate, analytical tone that an entomologist may have as they speak of a pinned butterfly. You clamp your jaw shut, wiping at your face in exasperation. You won’t press it any further. Is it really even worth it? Atlas stops suddenly, raising his eyes to stare up at the sky. You stop alongside him, quietly questioning the pause before he speaks. “It’s getting late. I’m going to return the disc to the office you-“ He pauses to pull out the keys from earlier out of his pocket and hand them to you, pushing both of his hands into his coat pockets. “Head home. I’ll contact you tomorrow.” You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he’s practically gone before you can get a word in, shuffling further and further as his stark white hair disappears into the thinning crowd. You take a moment to sigh, turning the keys over in your hands, spotting a plastic tag with an address written on it attached to the keychain pointing the way back. Apparently he trusts you enough to get home alone then huh. You raise your head to stare at the same sky Atlas had looked at. The sky has been steadily darkening as you walked, and the way the darkness bleeds through the sunset like watercolor makes you pause and stare a little longer. You close your eyes and breathe in, taking in the moment for a little while longer before nodding to yourself, pulling up the address, and heading off. [[You’re careful to avoid the alleyways.|go home]]

The walk home is dark. It’s dark and wet and cold and you want to be anywhere but here. Walking alone in the city isn’t the most dangerous activity, but the route you take, your face illuminated by the blue light of your phone, isolates you all the more. The shadows grow longer here as you traverse, and you cling to the edges of noise and life as it begins to coalesce and congeal to the many noisy and bright buildings you can spot from yards away. If anything though, it is quiet. Quiet enough to hear murmurings of conversation at the edges of your senses, but not quite loud enough to interrupt your own thoughts. Your own thoughts. It’s been a while since you were left with those. Calling today a lot would be an understatement. From being interrogated, experiencing another brutal headache, and running around all day chasing gang members, you’re quite swept from the past few hours. You sigh, stepping under a streetlamp in order to readjust yourself. Your back hurts and you just want this to be over. How are you possibly supposed to continue with this work for who knows how many days? You feel… [[Angry.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[Exhausted.][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[Scared.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

<<if $shifted is true>>You don’t have enough time to whip around him. Not nearly enough to leap the distance he’s created in seconds. Time slows for you- but not in order for you to reassess or catch up. It’s so you can watch him duck into the alley, and watch your own body as you crouch, claws skidding and muscles buckling under the strain, as he moves out of your reach. It feels almost like mocking. Your body snaps too, giving you just enough of an edge to haul yourself with one leap forwards. It’s far too slow but you haven’t taken your eyes off of him yet. And like the end of a joke, the finale comes swiftly. A large, dark shape lands with a //thump// in front of you, a thick smack following soon after as a longer appendage falls with it. You slide to a stop, biting back a growl at the shock, and watch as the appendage slithers against the ground as the thing in front of you stands. You no longer can see the shifter you were chasing, eyes transfixed as the new figure- a Firespitter now standing tall looming over your crouched frame. Your breath catches in your throat as other sounds hiss and fall to the ground beside you. Before you know it, numbers and numbers of the Firespitters gather to stare from rooftops and glow with unshed flames to your sides. You’re surrounded.<</if>><<if $shifted is false>>With the shifter’s sudden turn down the alley and the distance already sprawling between you two, putting on the final burst of speed you do feels ultimately meaningless as your joints ache and muscles scream only for you to watch the man bolt down the alleyway. Your knees buckle slightly before you catch yourself, making the distance between you two, even if complimented with the sheer wall that must stop him from completely outrunning you, all the more drastic. You curse. And as if to make the failure all the more apparent, you are forced to skid to a stop at the next action. A large, dark shape lands with a //thump// in front of you, a thick smack following soon after as a longer appendage falls with it. You bite back a yell at the entrance, and watch as the appendage slithers against the ground as the thing in front of you stands. You no longer can see the shifter you were chasing, eyes transfixed as the new figure- a Firespitter now standing tall looming over your crouched frame. Your breath catches in your throat as other sounds hiss and fall to the ground beside you. Before you know it, numbers and numbers of the Firespitters gather to stare from rooftops and glow with unshed flames to your sides. You’re surrounded.<</if>> [[Next|gang meet 2]]

Your fists clench your phone tighter and your throat closes. It’s almost like crying, this feeling. Hot foreheads and rapid blinking. Racing heartbeat and a feeling of helplessness. But you don’t want to cry. You want to break something. They’ve trapped you here, stuck you in a position you cannot escape and preyed upon the naivety you hold. It feels like a cage. It feels like a fox trap. And being bled out like this makes you want to bite at anything that dares tighten the wire. You clench your jaw tight and shake your head, lifting your head to take in a deep breath. No. You can get angry later, these people around you don’t deserve it. You don’t need more eyes on you as it is. The cold air that enters your lungs feels like the last good breath you’re going to get for a while. Checking your phone, you frown at the estimated time given. This ‘apartment’ of yours is practically halfway across the city and although it’s far enough from the Institute to give you some breathing room, traveling all this way in a city you aren’t familiar with sets you on edge. You flip through your resources quickly, trying to estimate a quicker route over. Though it is still an early night, you aren’t exactly comfortable with a taxi, and walking at the pace you’re going isn’t going to get you there anytime soon. <<if $shifted is true>>You even briefly consider trying to fly there, but rule it out the second you picture the earful you’d get from Atlas. He shouldn’t even know, but it’s like everything is watched in this city. Maybe another time when you’re more confident with the area.<</if>> Then you realize. There’s a subway a few blocks from you, just within a reasonable distance. Navigating something like that sounds like a nightmare and a half, but it’s better than wandering around checking your own shadow every five minutes. You check the time. Shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. You make your way, eyes flicking between your phone and the sidewalk you shuffle down. It’s going to be a long night. [[Next|subway enter]]

The way the night churns ever forwards has you staring down alleys and checking over your shoulder every few minutes. The stars are… comforting a little at least. As choked as they are from the light pollution of the city. You stare up at them and watch as they waver and blink out with the city below slowly beginning to glow brighter and brighter. Maybe they saw this place as a star too— bright and only found at night. But you know what lurks in this star. Something cold, something dark, something //hungry//. You can assume that whoever killed the Brimstone leader wouldn’t exactly be after you, but you also didn’t expect to get caught up in all this mess to begin with. The possibility— the mere inkling that maybe, just maybe, the killer lurks the streets still and would consider you a target sets you on edge. It makes all those glances over your shoulder all the more risky. All the more necessary. You must steel yourself here. If you panic in a place like this you do not know, you’d only serve to run yourself ragged twisting and turning down these streets. So you take a breath, gathering yourself, and give your body a quick shake. You can worry about this when you’re inside somewhere. Somewhere safe. Wherever that is. Checking your phone, you frown at the estimated time given. This ‘apartment’ of yours is practically halfway across the city and although it’s far enough from the Institute to give you some breathing room, traveling all this way in a city you aren’t familiar with sets you on edge. You flip through your resources quickly, trying to estimate a quicker route over. Though it is still an early night, you aren’t exactly comfortable with a taxi, and walking at the pace you’re going isn’t going to get you there anytime soon. <<if $shifted is true>>You even briefly consider trying to fly there, but rule it out the second you picture the earful you’d get from Atlas. He shouldn’t even know, but it’s like everything is watched in this city. Maybe another time when you’re more confident with the area.<</if>> Then you realize. There’s a subway a few blocks from you, just within a reasonable distance. Navigating something like that sounds like a nightmare and a half, but it’s better than wandering around checking your own shadow every five minutes. You check the time. Shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. You make your way, eyes flicking between your phone and the sidewalk you shuffle down. It’s going to be a long night. [[Next|subway enter]]

You’re tired. You’re just… tired. All of the information, all of the clues and names and just about //everything// makes you want to lie down and sleep for hours. You’re not even certain that would help either— if your cynical suspicions were to be trusted. Nightmares come to you when you always least desire them after all. But the exhaustion that settles into your bones isn’t one to be fixed with a nap. You know it isn’t. It’s like a lingering itch on the inside of your palm, something you can never quite resolve. You think, rather glumly, that it has been like this for a while. Only now made all the more excruciating with the current events unfolding as they have. You drag a hand across your face. You’ve got to buckle in for a long couple of days, you guess. The only hope you have is that your intuition is right, that there may be just yet a way out of this. You’ll keep going— because what other choice do you really have? Checking your phone, you frown at the estimated time given. This ‘apartment’ of yours is practically halfway across the city and although it’s far enough from the Institute to give you some breathing room, traveling all this way in a city you aren’t familiar with sets you on edge. You flip through your resources quickly, trying to estimate a quicker route over. Though it is still an early night, you aren’t exactly comfortable with a taxi, and walking at the pace you’re going isn’t going to get you there anytime soon. <<if $shifted is true>>You even briefly consider trying to fly there, but rule it out the second you picture the earful you’d get from Atlas. He shouldn’t even know, but it’s like everything is watched in this city. Maybe another time when you’re more confident with the area.<</if>> Then you realize. There’s a subway a few blocks from you, just within a reasonable distance. Navigating something like that sounds like a nightmare and a half, but it’s better than wandering around checking your own shadow every five minutes. You check the time. Shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. You make your way, eyes flicking between your phone and the sidewalk you shuffle down. It’s going to be a long night. [[Next|subway enter]]

The trip over to the subway is short, if a bit troublesome as the rising wind begins to buffet you on your journey. Nothing attacks you from the shadows though, no arms stretching from the darkness, no crowds pausing to watch you as you pass. The streets are still populated, if lingering in density as time passes, but the moment you reach the subway, you’re a bit surprised to see far less people passing by than you would suspect. It seems like the nighttime transit isn’t as popular as you assumed. At least there’s a light down there. Stepping down into the subway, you’re relieved as the wind does not follow you down, instead stuck to its toil aboveground as you move into the pit of the city. It’s quieter down here as well. Yellow fluorescent lights flicker and illuminate the dull ceramic tiles of the wall. They are spray painted and flecked with graffiti and similar signs of life, though that same spark is lost when you gaze around. Few people stay around this time of night it seems. It’s strange— you expected this early in the night there would be far more people attempting to move from place to place, but you recognize with a start that any number of things could be wrong with this city. Hell, you’ve seen probably several issues with it all during your first day. This could be numbered among the many. There’s no trains currently waiting at the station. You check your phone once again. The train you’re looking for may arrive soon, but you’re not confident even for a second to trust your loose knowledge of the transportation in this city to carry you alone. To your left, past some pillars and benches, you can make out what looks like a map. It’s going to be complicated to figure that one out for sure. To your right, though you see a man leaned against one of said pillars, checking the platform ever so often before checking his phone. He could help— but you could never be too careful around here. You doubt you’ll miss the train either way, but this might make things easier. You… [[Check the map.]] [[Ask for directions.]]

You’ll take your chances with the map. It may be a hassle and a half to figure out— but perhaps you’re just overestimating things. You’ve certainly had to do that a lot in your time within the city already. Right. You walk over to the map. Oh. Never mind. Terrible idea actually. Bright colored lines intersect and diverge from place to place, to number to number, to new name to new name. Just looking at it alone makes your head spin and your eyes cross. Why’d you want to do this again? You try tracing one of the lines to the middle of the city, recognizing how everything inevitably circles itself for a moment, before giving up on that too. For a second you rest, hand on your mouth as you squint and try to discern anything. You can barely make out the street names with how small the text is, and remembering what streets you have passed are another challenge entirely, but it’s a place to start. Suddenly, you hear a hiss of something large behind you. Whipping around, you spot the subway train, a long and gleaming shape of steel tug in behind you. It screeches to a slow and belabored stop, and you scrunch up for a moment, raising your hands to your ears. <<if $disability is "hoh">>Before the noise can get the best of you, you turn off your hearing aid entirely, swallowing at the ringing still in your head.<</if>> As the vehicle fully stops however, you let out a breath and tune back in. It’s a good sign but— You turn to the map again, frowning as your eyes desperately search the large poster. Crap. No time. You think quickly, taking a picture of the map before you spin back around and pick up the pace to make it to the train. Better early than late. You step aboard, checking your phone again. You can figure it out while you ride. [[Next|train enter]]

The map is beyond you right now. You just hope people aren’t as well. You take a breath, setting your shoulders and approaching the man minding his own business. Once you’ve gotten close enough, you watch him turn his head towards you, raising his eyebrows in a silent but curious encouraging prompt for the beginning of the conversation. “Ah- hello there sir. I don’t mean to bother you, I was just wondering if I could get some help with directions?” You start. All at once you realize how pathetic of a tourist you look, but you steel yourself. Too late to turn back now. “Of course, cher. Whatcha’ lookin’ for?” The man replies, tilting his light trilby hat in your direction. You pause for a moment, a bit taken off guard by the thick cajun accent that responds to you, but it manages to set you at ease as he turns the conversation quickly casual. You blink a bit before continuing. “Oh uh- yeah! Let me-“ You pull up your phone, turning to move to the stranger’s side so he can see the directions still pulled up on your phone. He nods, humming to himself for a bit before you both lift your heads, perking up as you see the train suddenly pulling into the station. The subway train is a long and gleaming shape of steel, graffiti painting the flanks of the transport as it screeches to a stop. You involuntarily take a step back, raising your hands to your ears. <<if $disability is "hoh">>Before the noise can get the best of you, you turn off your hearing aid entirely, swallowing at the ringing still in your head.<</if>> As the vehicle fully stops however, you let out a breath and tune back in. You look to the man beside you, who doesn’t seem to move towards it as the train doors open. This must not be his train. “Try this one cher. Step off at Layamon Street, it’s the closest stop.” He directs, pointing to a vague spot on your phone. Ah. That’ll have to do it seems. You quickly thank him, turning to leave as he gives you a nice smile. Huh. Your situation may be pretty awful, but at least there are some people still looking out for you. Intentionally or not. You take one look behind you as you step aboard. It’s not the best situation, but it’s not hopeless. It never is. [[Next|train enter]]

<<set $reeserelationshippos = 40>><<set $reeserelationshipneg = 100>>The inside of the train is just about what you expect. A tight frame hosts the usual— cold plastic and metal seats, long steel bars stretched across the length of the train with poles mirrored horizontally. Ads plaster the top of it, picturesque smiles stuck upon unmoving eyes. You sigh. Kinder company than what you’ve received, at least. Still. You think you’d prefer the dark stares over fake smiles. A few people walk out of the wide doors to your side or slide past you, but otherwise pay you no mind. You’re still certain you’ve gotten the odd stare or two during your walk here, but the number has decreased significantly since you’d parted ways with your ‘partner’. You sigh. Again. You don’t want to think about that man right now. The more people that leave, however, the more barren the train car becomes. Until it’s just you and… Some…. guy. Well— you’d probably have more to say about him if he wasn’t basically covered from head to toe in layers. Hoodie up, covering short slick black hair and a black disposable mask covering the lower half of his face. He seems to be occupied with his phone, hunched over it as he sits secluded to the far end of the car. Before you can do much else however, you watch his eyes cut to you, almost mulberry in color, as he glares you off. Jeez. You take it back. You definitely prefer the fake smiles. You move to sit across from him, further down the car. [[Next|train 1]]

As the train settles down, you hear the noise, and subsequently, the air, gets sucked out of the car. There’s very few people left, only an older woman stuck to the back of the train minding her own business. It’s… a little awkward, but nothing you can’t handle. You’d been dealing with the one person in this city who hated talking more than breathing, after all. You rest your head on the back of the window behind you with a soft thump. All of this. All of this and it’s only been a day. A few hours. It’d be almost funny— if it wasn’t such a nightmare. Sitting down really was the reminder your body needed though, as you relax slightly into your seat and squint into the artificial light above, you take a breath. You breathe your aches back into yourself, and though it’s splitting, this pain, it’s a reminder. Just as the wave of cool air that tickles your cheek as the subway doors close are as well. A reminder that you’re still here— and this is not a dream. You frown. For better or for worse. With a heavy jolt, the train starts anew, starting off slow as you lower your head and watch through the windows as the environment outside changes. A second later and the station is gone, now replaced by the dark of the tunnel that surrounds you entirely. Something about it doesn’t sit quite right with you. You want that breeze back in your face. Why? It’s a kind of longing that makes you feel like a bird trapped in a cage. This place isn’t made for you. It’s an unsettling reminder of something you can’t quite place— this idea that you have wings to stretch, despite them being tucked away at that moment into the deepest part of you. It’s nothing to drive you into a panic, of course, but the unsettledness that had crept its way into your bones ever since arriving into the city sinks even deeper the more you sit. You stretch your own legs out slightly, frown growing. Something about this city has you turning philosophical. [[That feels silly.|train 2]]

You turn your head, looking for anything to momentarily distract you from the thought. Your gaze falls on the stranger from before— the one with the multiple layers and the angry stare. He’s again occupied by his phone, gripping it tight and ever so often clicking a few things onto the screen. You’re less interested in whatever he’s typing however, and more in the sound with it. You almost lean forwards. It’s a noticeable tap, as if he had long nails or acrylics on. But you don’t notice that. You instead recognize with a start that he isn’t typing with his hands at all. Well— not human ones at least. Deep red scales blossom over the skin on his hands like a rash, peeking out from under his sleeves just slightly. Wicked looking claws tap at the screen, an obviously practiced maneuver as he does not attack the phone with any undue pressure, and manages to work it just fine, despite your disbelief. Shifters can just… //do// that here? You’d seen kids and some adults traveling around with such draconic features displayed loud and proud, but in the privacy and isolation of the train car, it feels almost natural. Like it shouldn’t really confuse you as much as it does. But you can’t name this feeling like the others. <<if $dragonpride is true>>There’s some part of you that legitimately considers pointing it out, connecting you and this stranger in an unspoken way that would ease the discomfort in this space. But that’d be just it then. It’d be spoken. You can hardly see the point in that then.<</if>><<if $dragonindifference is true>>It kind of…upsets you even. You’re not sure why. There’s something so nonchalant about the way he so casually shows this part of him off that you can’t wrap your head around. Why make yourself a target like that? If you had it your way, you’d want less eyes on you, not more.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>You swallow. It’s like a type of fear, the way this recognition irks you. Why can //he// flaunt this form? What if he hurts someone? Accidentally scratch something or someone and it’s over. There’s an obvious line here— why does he need to cross it like this?<</if>> You shake your head to snap out of it. You’re overthinking this. Leave him alone. There’s a final thing that catches your eye before you look away. A patch on the left shoulder of his hoodie that looks just slightly too big on him. It’s rather crude, the sewing, done by an inexperienced hand and particularly stands out among the various other patches and pins on his clothing. In a square frame it displays a surprisingly beautiful and simple embroidery of two flowers, not any kind that you recognize, being slowly burnt with a brightly colored flame that is pictured next to them. Huh. You don’t know what to make of it. It’s just pretty. [[Pretty is not what you’d call the look he gives you though.|train 3]]

You jerk back slightly as you meet eyes with the stranger again, this time clearly spotting the slitted pupils as they focus in on you. You shift uncomfortably and look away quickly, cursing yourself for your lapse in judgement. Spent all day being looked at and now here you are— staring all the same. The chug of the train begins to slow as the speaker above crackles to life, spouting an address that to your horror, does not make any perceptible attempt at human speech before it dies again. Shit. How soon was your stop again? As you lean forwards slightly, you catch sight of an equally garbled text lit up on a screen above, almost entirely incomprehensible besides the odd number flickering to light in pixelated orange. You think back. No, you should still have some stops to go. It hasn’t been that long of a trip. And if you’re still a little too far, you still know where to go. Or you will find out. Some way. The train, ignorant to your ebbing panic, pulls into the next station all the same. The woman who you’d basically forgotten about perched further away from you stands, hobbling off the train just as quiet as she had come. There’s another pause. //Please don’t leave me here with the guy who looks like he wants to skin me.// You think as no one steps onto the train right away. You love the quiet time, but it feels all too similar to your journey in the car with Atlas. And you really don’t want a rehash of that experience again. [[Next|train 4]]

As if answering from the heavens above, more passengers board the train. You don’t look right away, searching once again for any recognizable label to follow. That is, until you catch your unwelcoming subway car partner staring over your shoulder. It’s a wide-eyed look. It’s a frenzied one. The hair on the back of your neck stands straight. It’s a look that screams danger. <<if $collar is true>>Your hand automatically brushes against the device still slung across your neck as you turn.<<else>>You turn slowly, heart already in your stomach.<</if>> To your other side three men have entered, all very dissimilar in looks besides the similarly dark and punk clothing they share. That… and the identical patch they wear on their jackets. Strange flowers and burning petals. And they’re staring right at you. The doors to the train hiss close. [[And you hold your breath.|subway fight start]]

A moment of tension. You slowly, painfully, lean back to not be as strongly in the way, and you tense as the squeaking of the chair overpowers the sound of the train slowly starting once again. The men aren’t looking at you anymore though, now focused on the stranger who glared at you now twice. He’s staring back, whole body tensed and eyes just as piercing. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest. A moment of pure, tense silence passes. Then another. It’s like a showdown between these two, and you know the moment you move— it’s going to all come crashing down. One of the men steps forwards, something in his cheeks glowing. God damn it. Not this shit again. [[The space explodes.|train fight 1]]

The heat reaches your face before the flames do. You have just enough time to watch as the man who stepped forwards snaps open his jaws, not dissimilar to the shifter you were chasing earlier, and lets loose a violent barrage of flames. It’s different being on this side. The fire moves towards you and cuts off the entirety of your vision. It practically blinds you but you can’t look away, caught in a moth like trance despite the fear coursing through you. What strikes you the most though isn't the brilliant orange and yellows of the flames, but the sound they make as the crackle and blister towards you. It sounds exactly like a flamethrower. And like something pounding towards you. You are quite quickly grabbed with two hands by the front of your shirt, shoved back into the corner bar of the seat with no true gentleness afforded and yanked downwards. For a moment you slam your eyes closed, believing that if you opened them there’d be nothing to see but black. As you open them however, the only black you see is the dark raven hair of the stranger crouching over you, claws gripped tightly in your shirt. His back and shoulder are to the flames, which now practically melt away, though you can see the soft burns leftover on his jacket. Thank goodness for fireproof clothing. He’s not looking at you, slitted eyes entirely focused on the men behind him who now take fighting stances. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. You try to scramble backwards and the stranger lets you go. In the same move he whips around, a sudden burst of mightier flames spouting from his mouth out in a wide arc as he tries directing them towards the men. They jump back or dodge out of the way, hissing at the attempt and the singe it causes. You watch for a silent moment as the black face mask he once wore flutters to the ground, burning to a crisp right before your eyes. “Murderer!” One of them suddenly shouts, growing extra brave and stepping forwards. That seems to set your would-be savior off. “Liar!” He roars back, practically throwing himself at the man. You watch him throw a punch that lands with a loud crack and you move behind the bar keeping you from retreating too far, eyes wide and watching. Could you pull some emergency switch? Would that really make things better though? Or just involve more people and make things worse? You certainly weren’t a target you imagine, but the history between this man and these people is certainly at a boiling point. Someone roars and you duck a bit. Never mind. It’s already boiled over. As the first man recoils, blood splattering to the dirty floor of the car floor, another one of the men leaps forwards, leaping at the dark-haired stranger. You don’t acknowledge it at first, stuck staring at the scarlet already pooling on the floor feet from you. You’ve heard of the violence that’s plagued these streets. But now you finally see it. And it is //frightening//. [[Next|train fight 2]]

A bang and crash snaps you out of your trance, and you whip your head around to see your fellow passenger smashed against the window behind you, wrestling with the man who holds him against it and attempts to choke him out. The window behind them strains and cracks with the sheer force of it. “Hey! You! Could use some help here!” The man who helped you earlier shouts suddenly, looking over towards you. You freeze up. He wants //you// to involve yourself with this? Out of all the terrible ideas you’ve heard— this has quite possibly got to be the worst. He continues to glare at you for another moment before shifting his attention back to his attacker, coughing sourly as he slowly runs out of breath with the folded forearm to his neck. No no no no no. You can’t be responsible for this. The lights of the tunnel outside flash by, counting the seconds as the battle continues. But… you can’t be responsible for this man’s death either. You glance behind yourself. The two other men are quickly recovering, one wiping the now fresh blood from his mouth. You can’t be all too sure they won’t try to harm you again after this anyways. You’re a liability after all. Fuck. You don’t have a choice again, do you? Maybe still one though. [[Transform and ram into the man holding your ally down.|transform subway][$humanstat to Math.clamp($humanstat -10, 0, 100)]] [[Stay human and use your surroundings to push him off.|human subway][$humanstat to Math.clamp($humanstat +10, 0, 100)]]

<<if $collar is true>><<set $weapon to false>><<set $shifted to false>><<if $dragonpride is true>>There’s more room here. It may be a cramped fit depending on a few factors, but the opportunity to shift and attack properly— as you always should have, quite honestly. This train car is turning into a battlefield. You just need to know how to maneuver it. And there’s no innocent civilians to harm this way either. You hear your heartbeat in your ears.<</if>><<if $dragonindifference is true>>The space here, in comparison to the cramped street from before, feels much larger. You’re well aware that the space is not large enough for the a full stretch of your capabilities, but you can still stand to help. You must help. A rumble grows in your throat— not quite a growl but something more. A rising note.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>Your senses are flooded with adrenaline. The panic that rises in you is not unfamiliar, but you know you must act. And unlike the boundaries of the streets before, you know your destruction will be limited here. You beg that it will. The panic fuels your change and in that moment— it almost feels instinctual.<</if>> You launch yourself forwards, relying on the natural instinct that comes to you all at once. It sharpens your senses and dulls your fear. It is the complexity and the simplicity of change. And it hurts. You cry out as your body— still very much human, rams into the man holding your partner down. You barely notice him stumble over, instead focusing on how the sudden shock to your throat shoots through your system. It only lasts a second, but it’s harsh and quick enough to discourage any further shifting. Your eyes widen as your hand lingers inches from the device, now breathing hard from the exertion. Atlas lied. There’s a grunt as the attacking man is kicked back hard in the chest. You raise your eyes, following the ragged shoe to your ally, who takes his own gasps of breath in. He looks over to you, a bit perplexed at your sudden reaction, but says nothing as another one of the men tries lobbing a fist at him. He ducks and quickly spins to attack the man, leaving you be in your own head for another moment. Shit. No shifting then. You’ll have to get more creative. The kicked man staggers to his feet and you leap to yours. You’ll have to act now. You… [[Take a fighting stance. Fine. You’ll do this the old-fashioned way.|stg human train]] [[Be quick and flexible with your surroundings. Take him down hard.|dex human train]] [[Lure him into the fight. Use your wits to your advantage.|int human train]] [[Try and talk it over with him. Lower his guard.|cha human train]]<</if>><<if $collar is false>><<set $shifted to true>>Here you go again. You leap at the man suddenly, pushing the whole of your body weight into him. Even before you make contact you can feel yourself growing, muscles expanding and the shooting of adrenaline right up to your spine. Hitting him, you assume, is like hitting a truck. You assume this because it feels like he buckles almost instantly. He practically flies back as you crash upon him, slamming and snapping through the train car door, which rends and splits under his weight. You watch with wide eyes as he slides a few feet and starts to move again from his place now in the next empty car. Woah. You don’t know whether to be impressed at your own strength set loose or this guy’s own determination. <<if $dragonsize is "small">>You recognize your growth, but thankfully due to your size, you don’t need to rein in your transformation, and instead fall to your claws, back on all fours. You stare down the man opposite of you, hearing behind you as your one ally returns to the fighting, occupying the other two men. The man in front of you begins to scramble to his feet. You ready yourself.<</if>><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>As you grow further and further, you glance upwards as your scales slot into place and your limbs readjust. The space is much tighter now, not enough to squeeze you, but enough where you could never hope to stretch your wings out farther than a few inches. You must watch your head here. You hear the man you knocked away scrambling to his feet. Ah. Keep your head in more ways than one.<</if>><<if $dragonsize is "large">>You let out a soft yelp of surprise as your head hits the roof of the subway car. You’re far too big for this narrow space, and even though it contains less hazards than the busy street you once ran down, the space is not made for you. It groans under your pressure and you keep growing. In a snap-second decision, you revert your transformation almost entirely. Entirely… minus the strength and enhanced senses you hang onto. You stand upright and stare down the man you knocked away as he slowly gets to his feet. Your own ally fights the other two attackers behind you and you wait. You’ll have to fight a little unconventionally, but if you’re smart enough there shouldn’t be a problem. <<if $breathweapon is true>>You sure can’t attempt any large displays of your breath weapon like this in this tight of a space though. Not with all of the adjustments you'd have to make.<</if>>Let’s just hope your talent is up to snuff.<</if>> The man gets to his feet now fully, standing feet away from you as his eyes narrow. You don’t move, readying yourself. With a loud growl, he shifts before you, skin turning an almost pinkish-red before he shakes himself out and steps forwards, now on all fours, fully transformed, and looking very, very angry. You… [[Launch yourself at him again. You’ll fight this, tooth and claw.|stg transform train]] [[Play the long game and use his strength and exhaustion against him.|dex transform train]] [[Use the tight space and your own form to turn the tide.|int transform train]] [[Distract and divert his attention. Talk him in circles.|cha transform train]] <<if $breathweapon is true>><<if $dragonsize is "small" or "medium">>[[Try your breath. Maybe it can earn you an edge if you’re careful.|breath transform train]]<</if>><</if>><</if>>

<<set $weapon to true>><<set $shifted to false>>With how tight this space is and how dangerous things already are, you don’t feel quite comfortable risking any extreme destruction. Your eyes switch quickly to the slowly cracking window. Well— any //more// extreme destruction. <<if $collar is true>>Besides, you don’t think you’d get far with this device still around your neck.<</if>> Still staring at the struggle, your eye catches on more than just the window however, also spotting a bent bar that had been loosened due to the fight. //There’s your chance, $name. Take it.// Jumping forwards, you grip the chair bar with both hands. It’s a tough pull and you have to put your whole weight into it, leaning back far with the adrenaline still pumping through you and fueling you to keep going. You hear a groan to the metal. This is such a bad idea this is such a bad idea this is such- There’s a sudden snap as you almost go tumbling. Catching yourself, you level back out and look down. The bar sits firmly in your palm, now entirely separated from its prior position. The bright yellow safety-paint shines under the fluorescents. Thank goodness for underfunded public transportation. You don’t even think about your next action, winding your arms back like a baseball bat and whipping the bar forwards at blinding speeds. You watch as time doesn’t even slow for it, the man crying out as he is hit right on the temple, flying backwards and off of your new ally. You watch him fall to the ground, hands still curled aggressively around the bar. Your partner coughs and looks at you, eyes a bit wide. You assume yours are too. Then before you can exchange any words, he’s back into the fight, one of the men missing a punch thrown at him before he’s right back on the two behind you. No thank you? You turn back to see the man you hit earlier already dragging himself up using the train car door, head bleeding from a rather nasty gash above his hairline. He looks over to you and //growls//. Aw shit. You… [[Take a fighting stance. Fine. You’ll do this the old-fashioned way.|stg human train]] [[Be quick and flexible with your surroundings. Take him down hard.|dex human train]] [[Lure him into the fight. Use your wits to your advantage.|int human train]] [[Try and talk it over with him. Lower his guard.|cha human train]]

<<if $stgadd >=40>><<if $weapon is true>>You flip the bar in your hand, testing the weight as you turn it in your palm. Your companion is already occupied with the other two men, and though you want to jump into the action to help the way you know you could, you figure getting involved swinging around wildly won’t help either of you. Still, your body tingles with inaction. Or maybe something else. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. You have just enough to crouch low and //fast// before there’s a grunt and the sound of something heavy swishing above your head. You look up to watch as the man you had knocked back, now bleeding from the head, swipe a set of deadly-looking claws out right where your head used to be. The second he realizes you aren’t still there though, he looks even angrier. If that’s possible. You jerk back just in time to see his head transform into a familiar draconic shape, pinkish-red scales covering his face as it elongates a snout in seconds and comes straight at you. You slam onto your back but can’t even risk a wince as he’s over you in seconds. Acting quickly, you pull the bar out and grip it tight with both hands, holding it out in front of you as he jumps at you again. His jaws snap quickly around the bar, the two of you staring each other down as he attempts to yank it out of your grasp and you dot everything in your power to hold on and not show how shaken you are. Smoke pools and pours from his flared nostrils, even the drool that lands on you burning like magma. You need to get out of this— and fast. With one heavy shove, you push the man off of you, taking advantage of the man’s insistence to hold on by flipping the two of you around entirely and slamming him down onto the train floor. He growls in indignation below you, the tables turned. Again you lift the bar and him, slamming him down onto the floor repeatedly. Before long, he finally unclamps his jaw from the bar, you winding an arm back in the process as he shifts his head back and winces to grab at the back of his head. Without a second to waste, you hit him once, //hard//, and head his head slam against the steel below again. You’ll be safe for another couple moments. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $stgadd >=40>><<if $weapon is false>>For a moment you struggle to think, stepping backwards into a fighting position against the man across from you, who bears his fans and hisses. How are you supposed to fight him without a draconic form? Are you expecting to just wrestle him until victory? This isn’t like any other spar. You have teeth to avoid, claws to dodge away from. But as he begins stalking towards you, you realize you’re not quite unarmed. You unsheathe and pull out the wicked-looking dagger from its holster on your side, brandishing it as you raise your other hand and stare him down. He only smirks. Then he pounces. You rush him in response, moving quickly to the side as you lash out and slash a line into his forearm with the blade. Crying out, you watch him stumble back and stare at you and back to his arm in shock, which practically drools blood onto the sheer metal floor. With a hiss, you watch him transform his head into a familiar draconic shape, pinkish-red scales covering his face as it elongates a snout and closes over his own arm. There’s a flash of light as flames erupt from his mouth over a now-shifted arm, and when he drops his arm and shakes his head to clear it of the pain, you see the wound now cauterized shut. Oh shit. They aren’t playing around. The man stares you down and you do the same. He rushes for you again but this time you back up, planting your feet firmly against the floor. As he jumps at you, you swipe out at his stomach, causing him to reel back in panic before you use the momentum to smash the back of the blade’s handle against his head. He stumbles almost instantly, falling into the seats at your side as you breathe hard. He won’t be bothering you like that anytime soon. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><<else>><<set $wound to true>>You barely have enough time to register what you’ve gotten into— much less prepare for the attack as the man in front of you launches himself into you. Shit. You have to move quickly. Rearing back, you feel your back hit the cold steel of the train wall behind you, and can’t even begin to think about how screwed you are as you move, quickly unsheathing the knife from your side and slashing it in an upwards arc to keep him back. It works— for the meantime. Your attacker jumps back, cutting off his momentum as you take the opportunity to stand up straight and take a more proper stance. Your turn. You swallow down the fear and jump at him, knife pointed forwards. He doesn’t even try to to dodge. One arm extended forwards, he grabs for your wrist with one now clawed hand, catching you off guard as you watch his other hand, covered in spiky pinkish scales, races straight towards you from the other side. You just barely manage to jerk backwards, pulling the two of you to the side as his slash misses and barely clears your head. You can see the gleam of his sharpened claws far too closely for your liking. With the momentum already gathered, the man suddenly pulls with you, yanking your arm and body to the side as he slams you into the seats beside the two of you. You yelp at the impact, the collision echoing through the already-noisy train car. He leaps back before you can slash out at him again, giving you a blessed moment of recovery. You wipe at your face and it hurts. Shit. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

<<if $dexadd >=40>><<if $weapon is true>>The bar in your hands is lightweight enough for you to pass from hand to hand enough, and as you lock eyes again with the man glaring you down, you know you’ll need to use it. No time like the present, you suppose. The present, it seems, has a bone to pick with you though— as you are rushed without hesitation by your attacker. Thinking quickly, you jerk backwards out of his way and to the side, narrowly missing two clawed hands that are freckled with pinkish scales. Another step, and you’re lower to the ground, swinging out the bar wide enough to collide with the man’s feet, and he goes sailing rather dramatically above you, eyes wide as he hits the floor. Good. But you can’t lower your guard just yet. Just in luck too, as the man leaps for you again, yanking himself on the ground and hurtling towards you once again. He’s aiming his shoulder towards you for a kind of pseudo-tackle, and you take the briefest moment to let out a startled laugh before diving to the side. As you hit the seats, the man careens into the metal wall like a raging bull, yelling as he collides and stumbles backwards at the impact. You stare with wide eyes. Did that really work out that easy? Now you feel like you’re cheating. He whips around to glare at you and your stunned smile is wiped from your face. Right. He moves for you again but you act quicker, jumping up to grab at the top bars of the car and pulling yourself up with some strain, swinging back and hitting the window behind you with both shoes flat on the surface before you shove yourself forwards again, feet first. The man doesn’t have the time to move, only managing to watch with widened eyes as you kick out at him, knocking him in the face and hitting him backwards, where he collapses against the steel seats opposite of you. You land with a slight huff. At least he won’t be bothering you for a bit. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $dexadd >=40>><<if $weapon is false>>You stare down your attacker, swallowing the lump in your throat as you struggle to think before he acts. You need something to protect yourself. And you have just the thing. Unbuckling the knife at your side, you flip the object in your hand a few times before looking back at the man parallel to you. He eyes the weapon warily. You eye his clawed hands similarly. The tension drops and shatters against the floor as you two run at each other suddenly, both sharing the same idea as you both swing at the same time. You suck in a breath as your forearms snap against each other stiffly, both managing to hold each other at bay as you do. He’s quick. But you’re quicker. In a split second decision, you promptly drop the knife from your hand, it dropping only a foot before you catch it again with your other hand, slamming the back of the dagger into the side of your enemy. He groans and stumbles back, releasing the tense standstill your arms were locked in. Got him. It’s not over yet. Keep applying the pressure. You jump at him again, shoulder-checking him backwards he practically trips over himself doing. This time though, he reaches out a claw towards you, intent on rending you apart with the pinkish scales that cover his gnarled hand. You can dodge back— you know you can. But as quick as you are, your confidence wins over just long enough for you to propel yourself forwards, both hands clenched around the knife as you bring the back against his head again, knocking him back into the seats behind him. He yelps and tumbles down. You smile and jump back. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><<else>><<set $wound to true>>You don’t even have the time to hoist your defense before you’re doubled over, coughing as you try backing out of the man’s range. You tried thinking before acting, and acting before thinking, and all it offered you was a punch to the gut, low and hard. You narrowly miss a blow to the head as you back up close enough to the other three men fighting behind you, and scramble to the side to avoid both them and your main pursuer. The man stares at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes, smoke pouring from his nose as he huffs once and beats a fist, now covered in pinkish red scales, into his open hand. Ah. So that’s why your stomach feels flipped inside out. You stare at the man a moment longer, panic running your brain and heart faster than you can keep up. Well— faster than your body can keep up. The man takes your inaction as a venerability and launches towards you again, claws now drawn. You shoot to the side to avoid the worst of it, but cry out as he slashes at your shoulder. It’s not deep but //damn// does it hurt. You stumble back again, gripping your wounded shoulder and making space between you two again. That smarts. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

<<if $intadd >=40>><<if $weapon is true>>You grip the bar in your hand tight and step back a bit, eyeing the man across you warily. He parallels your movement, stepping forwards as you watch him with a careful eye. You need to be smart about this. Smart and careful and attentive and— well, you need to be one step ahead of him. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder that lingers a little too long on the scuffle behind you. A plan doesn’t form as much as it hits you, sparking you to action as you suddenly step out of the man’s range once again. Gripping the bar tight in your hand, you snap away from your attacker and rush suddenly for the group fighting your companion, sticking low to the ground. “Gh- hey! Get back here!” The man shouts, unwisely pursuing you as he rushes in as well. You lock eyes with another one of the men, watching his expression shift to one of fury as you get close. Good. You catch a split second of light as his cheeks begin to glow, right as a sudden tug to the back of your shirt halts your movement entirely. You choke slightly at the tug and look back, following a pinkish red scaled hand all the way up to the wild look in your pursuer’s eyes as he grabs at you. Instead of any surprised expression crossing your face though, you don’t give him an inch of satisfaction, instead ducking your head in a manner of seconds. There’s no time to think twice. Not for you or him for that matter. The man’s eyes change from wild to confused and as he looks up, quickly meets eyes with his ally, whose flames already burst from his mouth, narrowly avoiding its original target and instead bucking right into his face. He screams, letting go of your shirt and scrambling backwards as he lands on his back, rubbing quickly and angrily at his face as you shoot away from the action once again. “Christ man! Watch where you shoot that thing!” “Wh- why where you there in the first place dumbass!” [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $intadd >=40>><<if $weapon is false>>No weapon. No skills to overpower your attacker. No hope. It all rushes through your head in an instant as the man in front of you creeps forwards, seemingly taking his time with the hopeless situation now stood still in front of him. But that was his biggest mistake. Giving you time to think. That’s all you need as you cast a look at the struggle over your shoulder, eyes narrowing as your hand drifts over the knife still buckled to your side. You don’t think you’ll even need it. Instead you take the opportunity to back entirely into the scuffle, earning a few shouts at the introduction of a sudden new body into the mix. You shift your attention from your surprised but incoming pursuer to avoiding and weaving through attacks, thankfully all too distracted with one another to really target you. You lock eyes with your companion, who, despite the blood on his face, is looking at you like you’re the insane one. You don’t have time to explain, instead continuing to back up as your attacker involves himself in the mix, single-mindedly reaching for you. You scramble back as he grabs at the front of your shirt with a clawed hand, grinning in satisfaction as he tries tugging you to him. You grab at the pinkish red scales that cover his hand and yank back, bending your knees suddenly as you watch one of his companions swing for your own. But instead of hitting him, he whacks his own ally straight across the face, the man quickly yelping out a curse and dropping you as he reaches for his face. You jump back and grip the closest railing, hauling yourself to the side and back around to the front of the train car, out of the way of the fight once more. You smile in satisfaction to yourself as your attacker scrambles back, yelling at his companions all the while. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><<else>><<set $wound to true>>It’s like your brain fizzles out, the way you lose all confidence the second you try listing the ways out of your situation. Like a set of sails quickly and quietly losing a breeze. But you don’t go down quietly. No you go down screaming as your attacker rushes you, sparing you only a moment to dodge to the side and scramble away on all fours. Not very dignified— but you’re more than willing to spare a cool point or two to keep your skin. You look back at just the wrong moment, crying out as a boot meets your chest and slams you back into the wall of the train car, snapping their breath out of your lungs. There’s the last of your breeze. Staring up in shock, you watch as one of the man’s hands changes form, fingers becoming claws as his palm is covered in pinkish red scales and he flexes them threateningly. Shit. He looks quite excited to have you pinned too, boot still holding you in place as you try to think. There’s not much time— even if it’s not the best choice anything is better than being skewered right now. <<if $weapon is true>>Acting quicker than you can think, you raise the bar to your side and slam it down on his shin, earning a yelp from him as he raises his boot from you and steps back. You scramble to your feet, heaving still from the attack. It’ll have to do.<<else>>Acting quicker than you can think, you quickly unbuckle the knife at your side and slash out at his leg, the man quickly yanking his leg back before you can cut him, but giving you enough time to move. You scramble to your feet, heaving still from the attack. It’ll have to do.<</if>> [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

<<if $chaadd >=40>><<if $weapon is true>>You eye the man across from you warily. Carefully. You’ll get nowhere just jumping into things, and despite your talents tending to be less flashy than others, you’re just as smart. Just as quick too. You drop your weapon and raise your hands very quickly, the bar dropping to the floor with a loud clang that makes your attacker hesitate, looking back at you and giving you the floor to explain. That’s all you needed. “Hey wait wait wait,” You start, already weaving your threads as you speak. “I know you don’t like me and that’s very understandable- but I //need// you to listen.” There’s a pause that becomes far too long as the battle rages on behind you. You’d probably think it was funnier if you couldn’t smell the blood in the room. He looks at you another second, tilting his head with a growing amused smile on his face. There’s a confused point in which his brows meet though. That’s your in. He steps closer. “Aye? And what do I //need// to listen to from a kid like you, huh?” He chuckles, the low gravel to his voice only adding to the intimidation. But you’re not intimidated. Well— not as much as you could be right now. Because he just made the worst mistake yet. He asked you a question. “If you drop this- let me go, I’ll step right into the next car like this never happened. I know I pissed you off. But I don’t owe this guy anything.” You shrug your shoulders a bit. “Seriously. I don’t want to get involved in this either.” He pauses now, almost as if your threads have entangled him almost entirely. He glances over your shoulder, and for a moment you panic, acknowledging that the fight broken out behind you may not be the most convincing backdrop. Still, you don’t move. Your reactions are measured and you don’t move any faster than you must. He looks back at you, then to the fight, then back at you. He tsks loudly and moves towards you, though this time, you’re not the target. “Whatever. Stay out of my way.” He growls, shoving past you with a huff. There it is. Your moment. Quickly and before he can move, you hook your arm around his and place your foot behind his own. You catch the barest hint of surprise as you move, but you don’t really have the time to take it in as just as quickly he’s on the floor, slammed hard against the steel floor. It’s all you needed. An in. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $chaadd >=40>><<if $weapon is false>>Before either of you can move, you’re quick to take in the situation. You’re not quite sure how easy it will be to lure this guy into a false sense of security considering the massive fight broken out behind you, but damn you can sure try. Your silver tongue may not be as flashy and showy as other physical skills, but you more than make up for it with your effectiveness. It has to. “Hey- hey hold on,” You start, putting your hands splayed out in front of you to show you mean no harm. No claws. “I’m not a threat to you sir I promise. I don’t want to be here either, if you can just let me go-“ “And how do I know you won’t stab me in the back the moment I do?” He growls, gruff and low. Huh. You’ll give him credit— most people don’t think of that. Carefully and very, very slowly, you reach for the knife at your side, unbuckling it very openly as you watch him eye you warily, eyes narrowed. You flip it in your hand, carefully lowering it along with yourself to the floor. You’re hoping this is a risk that pays off. He stares at you a moment longer. Then another. Come on come on come on. Without another word, he moves forward, walking with purpose towards the fight behind you. Perfect. You stay perfectly still, avoiding his eyes as your hands remain raised. Just a little farther. The second he was past your threshold, you speak up. “Yknow, you were right to trust your instincts.” You say simply. The man pauses but the moment he turns around to confirm what you’ve said, you’re on him. Whirling towards him like a blur, you pick up your weapon and spin it around again, smashing the back end of the blade onto his face, directly onto his nose. He stumbles back with a loud curse and you back away, grin widening. There it is. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><<else>><<set $wound to true>>Before either of you can move, you’re quick to open your mouth. Maybe there’s an easier way out of this. A way that doesn’t involve anymore fighting. Anymore bloodshed. You wince as you hear the continuing struggle behind you, someone shouting something between clenched teeth that is incomprehensible to your ears. At least you can spare yourself the pain. Or maybe you can’t. As the man in front of you edges forwards, you freeze up, mouth agape and flapping as you try to bring words, any words, up to the surface. But your feet stick to the floor like wet cement and your lungs refuse to offer even a little air as the hungry glint in your attacker’s eye becomes all the more clearer as he advances. He doesn’t rush you though, as if similarly realizing what you’ve unintentionally done to yourself. It’s a free meal. And he’s more than happy to take his time. He stops inches from you, glaring you down and eyes narrowing as he searches you. <<if $weapon is true>>Spying the bar still clenched in your hand at the side, he only half-laughs. His teeth shine with the motion. You’re not a threat like this. And you both know it.<</if>> “I-I- wait I know-“ You start, sputtering through each heartbeat that wreaks your body. But you aren’t even offered the courtesy of finishing your sentence, as the man lashes forwards, gripping both arms around your middle and as you scramble trying to free yourself, he simply hefts you over his shoulder and throws you across the floor. You are dashed across the surface carelessly, whining at the impact and the way your skin is buffeted against the sheet of the floor. You come to a stop with a heave of breath, mind still trying to catch up with your words. Well shit. Not trying that again. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

<<if $stgadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "small">>You race towards him before he can meet you, taking advantage of your shifted form to boost your bravery. Sure fighting a bunch of punks in a subway car may not be your best idea, but it is sure far past the time to turn back. You pounce on him in seconds, landing directly upon him as you watch his eyes widen. He manages to twist halfway under you as you collapse onto him, and kicks out at your stomach. The pain lunches into your throat and through your lungs at the attack, and you fall back onto the set of seats behind you. You have to shake your head for a moment before you have to move again, narrowly avoiding a slash of claws that rake a long line into the plastic and metal beside you. //Too close.// Still acting on instinct and your talent alone, you spin suddenly, smacking the man with the thick of your tail, sending him right back into the chairs beside you as you leap back. It’s easier fighting like this, as if you were always meant to be. The ducking and running you do feels smoother, the hits feel harder, your thoughts feel clearer. It’s invigorating. And you have just enough room to act. The man jumps for you again, teeth gnashing. This time you don’t lower yourself or anything, you simply step slightly to his left, opening your maw in a similarly threatening move. You connect first though. Your teeth find purchase at his exposed ear, a long, thin and exposed bit of skin uncovered by hard scales unlike the rest of him. And that makes it the perfect target. You’ll take it. The man cries out and scrambles to move with you as you yank to the side, teeth still firmly grasped around his ear. You don’t exactly hear anything tear, but instead feel the warmth of blood fill your mouth suddenly, so quickly that for a second you worry it’s your own. But as the man hits the ground and shakes himself out, You see the hole you’ve made in his ear, a quick tear that he seems just as surprised you managed to make as you are. You spit out the blood and small rip of flesh onto the ground, gathering yourself enough to glare and growl at him. Yeah. He’s not going anywhere. You shift back to take a breath for just a moment. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $stgadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>You race towards him before he can meet you, taking advantage of your shifted form to boost your bravery. Sure fighting a bunch of punks in a subway car may not be your best idea, but it is sure far past the time to turn back. You pounce on him in seconds, landing directly upon him as you watch his eyes widen. He manages to twist halfway under you as you collapse onto him, and kicks out at your stomach. The pain lunches into your throat and through your lungs at the attack, and you fall back onto the set of seats behind you. You have to shake your head for a moment before you have to move again, narrowly avoiding a slash of claws that rake a long line into the plastic and metal beside you. //Too close.// Still acting on instinct and your talent alone, you spin suddenly, smacking the man with the thick of your tail, sending him right back into the chairs beside you as you leap back. It’s easier fighting like this, as if you were always meant to be. The ducking and running you do feels smoother, the hits feel harder, your thoughts feel clearer. It’s invigorating. And you have just enough room to act. The man jumps for you again, teeth gnashing. This time you don’t lower yourself or anything, you simply step slightly to his left, opening your maw in a similarly threatening move. You connect first though. Your teeth find purchase at his exposed ear, a long, thin and exposed bit of skin uncovered by hard scales unlike the rest of him. And that makes it the perfect target. You’ll take it. The man cries out and scrambles to move with you as you yank to the side, teeth still firmly grasped around his ear. You don’t exactly hear anything tear, but instead feel the warmth of blood fill your mouth suddenly, so quickly that for a second you worry it’s your own. But as the man hits the ground and shakes himself out, You see the hole you’ve made in his ear, a quick tear that he seems just as surprised you managed to make as you are. You spit out the blood and small rip of flesh onto the ground, gathering yourself enough to glare and growl at him. Yeah. He’s not going anywhere. You shift back to take a breath for just a moment. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $stgadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "large">>You race towards him before he can meet you, hoping you can trust your talent to carry you in the moment. As he prepares himself for some full-frontal attack, crouching slightly, you take the opportunity to whip around onto your side, then onto your back as you slide under him before he can react. You watch him try and move back in a confused panic, but not before you transform your bottom legs into a familiar draconic shape and kick at his stomach //hard//. You hear the whisper of a yelp as it leaves him, the Firespitter practically launching into the air a few meters before you take the opportunity and grab at his jacket, yanking him back down suddenly. You know it’s a stupid idea before you do it. But with the intensity of the situation, you don’t have much time to think these things through as you shift your head to its dragon look-alike and ram your forehead into his own. There’s a loud crack as you both shout at the same time, pain lancing through your own head same as his. Yet he seems to have gotten it worse, his eyes crossing for a moment before turning to anger, grabbing at your shoulders and opening his maw. You watch the familiar glow of firelight rise from his lungs to his throat, and for a moment you panic. No no no no no. You lurch forwards, suddenly gripping both sides of his jaw closed with your hands, the two of you staring each other down for an awkward, incredulous moment. He narrows his eyes, smoke beginning to pour from his flared nostrils and pupils slitted tight as you hold on. <<if $proesthetic is "both arms">>You can’t exactly //feel// it but you watch your prosthetics as it turns slowly red with the heat. Oh shit. That’s not a good sign.<<else>>You feel it as your hands slowly begin to heat up, the pain growing and growing as you keep eye contact with the shifter above you. It won’t be long until it becomes unbearable.<</if>> You have to break it. You have to. But not without a fight. As you release a hand, you shift the hand into claws, curling them inwards into a first as you hit the man and hit him //hard//. He cries and yanks himself back, shoving at your shoulders as his claws dig thin lines into you as he moves off of you. You take the opportunity to leap away, shifting your features back. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $stgadd < 40>><<set $wound to true>>Running towards him head on, you watch him ready himself, crouching lower to the ground. You keep running, lowering your head and pointing your <<if $dragonsize is "large">>, now transformed,<</if>> horns towards the man. What you don’t see as you race closer though, is the sudden change your attacker takes, lifting himself up onto his back legs and grabbing very suddenly at your horns. Your barreling forwards stops suddenly as you are yanked to the side, being quickly overpowered by the strength of the man now above you. “H-hey wait!” You shout, fruitlessly scrambling at the man before you are tossed back down the train car from where you ran. You let out a yelp as you go flying, back ramming into the side of the open door with a loud crash. The pain that lances up your spine almost stops you entirely as you gasp for air, sucking in cold breath through gritted teeth. God. This was //such// a bad idea. You shift back. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

<<if $dexadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "small">>You’re quicker than him, the way you race forwards at him. He doesn’t even have a moment to react, and you count on this. Instead of facing him head-on, you are quick to dodge around him, slipping your tail under him in order to yank his legs out from under him. He does down with a huff of annoyance, but before he can rise again, you’ve already jumped back with a warning hiss. He whips around to face you, already furious. But you don’t give away your plans on your face, remaining steady and crouched low to the ground, prepared to pounce. As soon as your attacker is on his feet he’s on you, in seconds above you with a raised set of claws that gleams in the light. He’s fast. But you’re faster. You leap back in time to watch him slice unsuccessfully at the ground, not making a move of your own as he attacks again and again. You lead him further and further back, avoiding raking claws all the while. You pause, however, as your tail bumps back against the cool of the closed door of the next train car. The Firespitter hesitates in his advance, noticing your cornered position, and grins an ugly grin, full of antagonized anger before beginning to stalk in your direction. “Heh- no where left to go kid.” He hums. He thinks he has you trapped. <<if $expressive > 50>>“I was about to say the same thing.” You reply with a tilt of your head.<<else>>You narrow your eyes, unresponsive.<</if>> In the flash of an eye, you duck and shoot underneath him. The shifter only has the opportunity to curse and stare in shock as you leap out from under him, whip back around, and jump up high. Just enough time to murmur something incomprehensible before you’ve landed on the top of his head, avoiding the dagger-like horns, and smash his face into the cold ground of the subway car. A breath leaves you— just as surprised at your own actions as the man likely was. You hear him groan underneath you, still conscious, and you pounce off of him, running back to the front of the train car where you first started it all. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $dexadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>You’re quicker than him, the way you race forwards at him. He doesn’t even have a moment to react, and you count on this. Instead of facing him head-on, you are quick to dodge around him, slipping your tail under him in order to yank his legs out from under him. He does down with a huff of annoyance, but before he can rise again, you’ve already jumped back with a warning hiss. He whips around to face you, already furious. But you don’t give away your plans on your face, remaining steady and crouched low to the ground, prepared to pounce. As soon as your attacker is on his feet he’s on you, in seconds above you with a raised set of claws that gleams in the light. He’s fast. But you’re faster. You leap back in time to watch him slice unsuccessfully at the ground, not making a move of your own as he attacks again and again. You lead him further and further back, avoiding raking claws all the while. You pause, however, as your tail bumps back against the cool of the closed door of the next train car. The Firespitter hesitates in his advance, noticing your cornered position, and grins an ugly grin, full of antagonized anger before beginning to stalk in your direction. “Heh- no where left to go kid.” He hums. He thinks he has you trapped. <<if $expressive > 50>>“I was about to say the same thing.” You reply with a tilt of your head.<<else>>You narrow your eyes, unresponsive.<</if>> In the flash of an eye, you duck and shoot underneath him. The shifter only has the opportunity to curse and stare in shock as you leap out from under him, whip back around, and jump up high. Just enough time to murmur something incomprehensible before you’ve landed on the top of his head, avoiding the dagger-like horns, and smash his face into the cold ground of the subway car. A breath leaves you— just as surprised at your own actions as the man likely was. You hear him groan underneath you, still conscious, and you pounce off of him, running back to the front of the train car where you first started it all. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $dexadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "large">>Your size may not help with your speed here, but you can still rely on your quickness if you’re quick with your thoughts as well as your body. You let the man run at you first, narrowing your eyes and lowering yourself and centering your weight. It’s a bit terrifying— this large dragon running almost full speed at you, but you know if you let your nerves get the better of you at this point, it’s all over. And you can’t let that happen on your first day on the job. Regardless if this is connected to ‘the job’ or not. The second the shifter gets close enough, you pull yourself to the side, narrowly escaping the pounce and jagged claws sent in your direction. He whips around snarling and you dodge all the same, this time lowering yourself entirely to the ground and ducking behind him again. You two begin to play this cat and mouse game, him coming for you smoking and snarling and you— well you never get caught. You know better than that. “Gh- get back here twerp!” He roars, spinning around again. You’re just about to move once more when you see a rising glow in his throat. You know that glow by now. Firelight. And with the way your attacker rises onto his back legs, you know this isn’t going to be something you can avoid the same way you had been. Your senses sharpen and you let instinct take over, scales rippling over your arms and your legs turning larger, just enough to grow in muscle. Just enough to give you a fighting chance. The shifter doesn’t let you prepare another second. With the sound you remember all too well, like that of a hissing propane tank, the shifter explodes the space with burning light. You take the last few seconds you have to jump up high, grasping tight onto the bar above you and quickly tucking in as the man waves his head slowly from side to side, covering the whole of the car. You watch from above with wide eyes, relying on the scales currently covering your arms to protect you from the worst of the burns. After all, you don’t need to stay up for too long. It’s a terrifying second watching the destruction of the fire below you, melting row after row of seats as the onslaught continues. But just like breathing— one cannot continue forever. The end comes quickly and quieter, the man hissing out the last of the flames as it gradually grows duller. He takes a second to lick his maw and pant, smoke practically drooling from his jaws, before he realizes what has happened and you take your moment. You swing suddenly forwards on the bar, stretching out your feet and rocketing in quickly with a small grunt. Your shoes connect with the man’s face with a loud cracking sound, and he falls backwards onto the floor, blood pooling quickly from the damage done to his nose. You drop to the floor, panting heavily from the adrenaline and strain of the moment, watching with eyes wide as he groans and attempts to recover. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $dexadd < 40>><<set $wound to true>>You gather yourself. Time to act. You rush to meet him first, moving to the side as you quickly watch him ready himself for the battle to come same as you. But you must’ve been too slow. Or just too obvious about your next move. Because as you duck to his left, right as you pass him and think you’re in the clear, <<if $proestheticleg is true>>there’s a sudden sharp pain that lances up your leg.<</if>><<if $proestheticleg is true>>you are stopped with such force that it makes you physically gasp.<</if>> You yelp at the shock of it, and don’t even have a moment as you are suddenly yanked backwards. You have the barest notice of a moment to realize that your attacker has sunk his teeth into your back leg— a terrifying realization that lasts a second before you are flung backwards, landing in a collapsed heap at the door separating the two train cars. You raise your head, breathing heavy as you push down and away the pain radiating from <<if $proestheticleg is true>>your leg and<</if>> your back from the fall. Augh. Not a good idea. <<if $dragonsize is "small">><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>You shift back to check your injuries.<</if>><</if>> [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

<<if $intadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "small">>You have a brief moment to check your surroundings, a brief moment to analyze the situation, and an even briefer moment to move out of the way of the Firespitter’s attack. You rocket to the side as serrated claws tear into the ground right where you were, managing to rend the steel beneath you and give way to another deeper layer of the train. You suck in a breath. Another idea. It’s going to be close though— and extremely scary. But you’re already stuck in this mess, might as well think your way out of it. You yelp as your attacker spins on you, already thrown back into the action as you race to dodge his next attack, a snap of jaws that just narrowly escapes the tip of your tail. It’s a game of cat and mouse, this dance the two of you spin around each other. He slashes, you back out just in the nick of time. You take a second to judge your distance and dodge again. Over and over you turn, a harmony of violence and awareness that you must be aware of at all times. You hold your breath. It’s vital you see this situation like this. Else the panic you feel holding the base of your spine hostage will seek to take hold of your mind next. And you need your mind— it’s the thing that’s gonna help you survive this. He swipes. You dodge again. With a sudden shout, you twist too fast and end up tripping over your own claws, collapsing onto the floor in a heap as you stare up suddenly much closer to your now very frustrated pursuer. He raises his claws, a gleam of wild satisfaction passing through his eyes. Too bad you have to cut his glee short. You move out of the way once again, having positioned your feet just right under you to be able to slide to the side just enough. His claws slash downwards again but this time do not slide free right away. It was a heavy slash. And you have been given the exact opportunity you were making from the start. You clamp your jaws down around his forearm, ignoring his roar and clinging on tight in order to hold him in place as you rotate your body from on the floor to twist upwards. He lifts his other paw to swipe at you again, but seeing the flash of determination in your eyes, he suddenly hesitates, eyes growing wide. Good. You kick out fast and //hard// with your back legs directly at his stomach. You may not be the most physically powerful in comparison to this man, but you can see the way that the impact treats him. You release his arm as you kick and watch his face contort into an expression of pain before he goes skidding backwards, landing on his side and clutching his stomach with a hiss. You’ll take it. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>><</if>><<if $intadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>You have a brief moment to check your surroundings, a brief moment to analyze the situation, and an even briefer moment to move out of the way of the Firespitter’s attack. You rocket to the side as serrated claws tear into the ground right where you were, managing to rend the steel beneath you and give way to another deeper layer of the train. You suck in a breath. Another idea. It’s going to be close though— and extremely scary. But you’re already stuck in this mess, might as well think your way out of it. You yelp as your attacker spins on you, already thrown back into the action as you race to dodge his next attack, a snap of jaws that just narrowly escapes the tip of your tail. It’s a game of cat and mouse, this dance the two of you spin around each other. He slashes, you back out just in the nick of time. You take a second to judge your distance and dodge again. Over and over you turn, a harmony of violence and awareness that you must be aware of at all times. You hold your breath. It’s vital you see this situation like this. Else the panic you feel holding the base of your spine hostage will seek to take hold of your mind next. And you need your mind— it’s the thing that’s gonna help you survive this. He swipes. You dodge again. With a sudden shout, you twist too fast and end up tripping over your own claws, collapsing onto the floor in a heap as you stare up suddenly much closer to your now very frustrated pursuer. He raises his claws, a gleam of wild satisfaction passing through his eyes. Too bad you have to cut his glee short. You move out of the way once again, having positioned your feet just right under you to be able to slide to the side just enough. His claws slash downwards again but this time do not slide free right away. It was a heavy slash. And you have been given the exact opportunity you were making from the start. You clamp your jaws down around his forearm, ignoring his roar and clinging on tight in order to hold him in place as you rotate your body from on the floor to twist upwards. He lifts his other paw to swipe at you again, but seeing the flash of determination in your eyes, he suddenly hesitates, eyes growing wide. Good. You kick out fast and //hard// with your back legs directly at his stomach. You may not be the most physically powerful in comparison to this man, but you can see the way that the impact treats him. You release his arm as you kick and watch his face contort into an expression of pain before he goes skidding backwards, landing on his side and clutching his stomach with a hiss. You’ll take it. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>><</if>><<if $intadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "large">>Your size won’t help you here. Not in the way you want it. But maybe you can still use your shifting features to your advantage here. You watch as the shifter takes the first move, lurching towards you with a low snarl almost quicker than you can compensate for. Almost. You snatch your head back just in time to dodge the incoming snap of his jaws, then have to duck and move backwards even further to avoid the claw swipes rapidly thrown in you direction. You bite back a curse as you take a brief second to look behind you. Too close. Your ally still fights the other two men, and getting too close with the space that you do have is too risky. No. You’ll handle this your way. You know how to. You have to dodge another swipe from your attacker, earning another growl from him before you quickly duck to his side, narrowly avoiding another attack. As you do pass, you shift out a long draconic tail, just long and thick enough to slip under him and trip him over entirely. He lands with a huff, but you don’t close in on him, instead moving to stay out of his area. Just in time, again, as he jumps for you once more, looking more like a ravenous alligator than a dragon. You shoot backwards, your plan solidifying in your mind. Now you just need to execute it. You begin to stick closer and closer to the ground, crouching low and weaving through his attacks. You don’t have the stamina nor the talent to keep this up forever, you know it. Judging by your attacker’s hisses of frustration, it doesn’t sound like he knows it though. And that means volumes. As you continue this violent dance of dodging and slashing, you begin to watch as your pursuer slowly but surely begins to tire out. His slashes get slower, sloppier. And the rage in his eyes only fuels his mismanages strikes. It’s becoming easier to dodge, but more important to, as his blows land //hard// against metal. Just before you can move again though, your back lands against the subway door, sealed shut. The man laughs, a shrill and excited thing, and rushes for you again. Just what you needed. As he runs for you, you suddenly rush him, taking him entirely off guard as you shift your head to a familiar draconic one and sprout long and thick horns just in time to hit his lower legs. You rush continually forwards as the momentum swipes the man forwards and over, his face colliding with the door with a loud slam before his continual movement lands it upon the floor in similarly devastating fashion. You wince a bit. That’s gotta hurt. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $intadd < 40>><<set $wound to true>>There’s a moment where you stare down the man, keeping the tension taught between you, ready to spring. He does not move and neither do you. You know if you look away for a moment he’s on you, his claws flexing against the steel. It makes a shrieking sound, one that you can’t help but flinch at. It’s time to think. To act. You know this. But with the way he looks at you and the sound of fiercer fighting behind you, you can’t help but stand still. It takes all your power to remember to breathe- much less come up with a plan. That’s why, when your attacker suddenly rushes at you, you have no clue what to do. You yelp, rushing to the side in order to dodge his attack. But you’re too slow— too predictable. One of his clawed hands comes up to rest on your chest, a motion that should otherwise be calming turned deadly as he pushes with all of his might, shifting his body to the side so he can shove with //all// of him to violently propel you into the ground. You hit the ground with a cry, skidding a few inches back to meet the open door as you try and gather yourself. How did that hurt //so bad//? <<if $dragonsize is "small">><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>You shift back in order to asses the damage.<</if>><</if>> [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

<<if $chaadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "small">>You pause for a moment in the seconds before the action. You are shifted and hunched slightly, crouching unconsciously as you asses your target. You know your biggest strength here isn’t going to be relying on your form nor any aspect of your strength or quickness. No, you know where your talent lies. Behind your teeth. The man in front of you lurches forwards, but you are quick to lift yourself onto your back legs, raising yourself up higher to command attention as you put your claws out in front go you, quickly moving them about in an attempt to make him pause. “Hey wait now friend!” You manage out, voice a little high as you try to speak before he reaches you. Just in time, it seems, as the Firespitter halts before you, similarly standing and leaning forwards. He’s taller than you in this form, the length mostly coming from the lankiness in his spine. Great. A puff of smoke arises from his nose as he glares down at you, and you shrink back a bit. Your hands are still held splayed out in front of you, offering the slightest bit of distance between you. Still, it offers none of the same comfort your speech does. After all— he’s listening now. And that’s dangerous in your hands. “I know you have a problem with that guy-“ You start, jerking your head behind you a bit at the struggle still going on behind you. The man does not move his eyes from you. “But quite honestly man, I’ve got no dog in this fight.” You chuckle a bit to try and alleviate the tension. You’re not so sure it works, but he hasn’t attacked you yet, so anythings a good sign. “What are you implying bud?” He growls, low and deep in his chest. You swallow a bit but continue. It’s harder like this, staring down the snout of a scaled beast. More intimidating when the hot breath is on //you// and when the dangerous glint is focused on no one else. But you can steel yourself against this. You must. “I know you and your pals want him dead but if it’s between you and me?” You lower yourself a bit, sinking slightly as you lower your arms. “I just wanna go home. I don’t know this guy.” You watch your attacker consider your words. As much as you know your words are laced with lies, this ones easier to tell. You really do just want to come home. You think this man can tell that. He glances up past your shoulder, eyeing the battle behind you hungrily. A moments hesitation. He squares his shoulders and pushes past you quietly, eyeing you warily before starting to move past with a nod. You’re out. But could you really trust that he’d hold his word around the others. So your moment arises. With a sudden lash, you spring out at the man and smash into his shoulder, sending his upturned form spraying across the seats, his head knocking //hard// into the back of a steel bar. You wince. He’s gonna feel that in the morning. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>><</if>><<if $intadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>You pause for a moment in the seconds before the action. You are shifted and hunched slightly, crouching unconsciously as you asses your target. You know your biggest strength here isn’t going to be relying on your form nor any aspect of your strength or quickness. No, you know where your talent lies. Behind your teeth. The man in front of you lurches forwards, but you are quick to lift yourself onto your back legs, raising yourself up higher to command attention as you put your claws out in front go you, quickly moving them about in an attempt to make him pause. “Hey wait now friend!” You manage out, voice a little high as you try to speak before he reaches you. Just in time, it seems, as the Firespitter halts before you, similarly standing and leaning forwards. He’s taller than you in this form, the length mostly coming from the lankiness in his spine. Great. A puff of smoke arises from his nose as he glares down at you, and you shrink back a bit. Your hands are still held splayed out in front of you, offering the slightest bit of distance between you. Still, it offers none of the same comfort your speech does. After all— he’s listening now. And that’s dangerous in your hands. “I know you have a problem with that guy-“ You start, jerking your head behind you a bit at the struggle still going on behind you. The man does not move his eyes from you. “But quite honestly man, I’ve got no dog in this fight.” You chuckle a bit to try and alleviate the tension. You’re not so sure it works, but he hasn’t attacked you yet, so anythings a good sign. “What are you implying bud?” He growls, low and deep in his chest. You swallow a bit but continue. It’s harder like this, staring down the snout of a scaled beast. More intimidating when the hot breath is on //you// and when the dangerous glint is focused on no one else. But you can steel yourself against this. You must. “I know you and your pals want him dead but if it’s between you and me?” You lower yourself a bit, sinking slightly as you lower your arms. “I just wanna go home. I don’t know this guy.” You watch your attacker consider your words. As much as you know your words are laced with lies, this ones easier to tell. You really do just want to come home. You think this man can tell that. He glances up past your shoulder, eyeing the battle behind you hungrily. A moments hesitation. He squares his shoulders and pushes past you quietly, eyeing you warily before starting to move past with a nod. You’re out. But could you really trust that he’d hold his word around the others. So your moment arises. With a sudden lash, you spring out at the man and smash into his shoulder, sending his upturned form spraying across the seats, his head knocking //hard// into the back of a steel bar. You wince. He’s gonna feel that in the morning. [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>><</if>><<if $chaadd >=40>><<if $dragonsize is "large">>With your transformation into a much smaller form, you know your intimidation goes down by a significant amount. At least— in comparison to the larger form of the Firespitter glaring you down from across the car. That already gives you an edge in the manner you know suits you best. Your words have always carried you further than your sheer strength and physical prowess alone, and you trust it’ll carry you through this encounter too. You have to. Because if you don’t have faith in what you say, you can count on others not believing you either. You suddenly lift your arms in a surrendering gesture, just as your attacker begins to crouch into a pouncing form. “Hold on there pal! We can talk this out- serious. Just head me out for a sec, alright?” You placate, backing up just slightly enough to show hesitation. The ball is in his court. You hope he believes that lie for now. You watch as he straightens up a bit, eyeing you warily and narrowing his gaze before stalking over to you. Slowly and carefully. There we go. “What do you think can save your hide, pup?” He asks, the boldness of that statement striking you into silence for a moment. Has he dealt with people bargaining for their lives more than once? The implication turns the air sour, a little too much for your favor. You clear your throat and your expression as you lower your arms slightly, palms still spread and any edge of claws disappeared into skin long ago. Remember. Trust in your talent. “Listen listen- I don’t want to fight. I know you’d rather tear that guy apart than me.” You start, raising a brow. He doesn’t stop you. If anything, he looks a little suspicious how you managed to call him on such a thing. Fine. You’ll take it. “I don’t want to be here either. I just want to head home, yeah?” You wish you could pretend that you were lying the entire time. But there’s a hint of genuineness that seeps through the honey in your tone when you mention home. You know it’s imperceptible to the man in front of you. But it’s enough for you to have to school your words again. “So let me off, talk to your buddies or whatever, and it’ll be like I was never here. That cool?” You ask, pouting just the //tiniest// bit to add to the effect. It may be a little unnecessarily dramatic, but it works. You watch the man glance over your shoulder, snout wrinkled just enough to show corners of the sharp teeth hiding underneath. He doesn’t say anything, instead giving you a short, swift nod before he’s off, pacing now towards his next target, your companion who still struggles behind you. But not for long, you hope. Not with this. You suddenly whip around to face his side, catching him off guard as you slam one foot down on his own clawed one and rear back, head transforming to that of a familiar draconic shape. You watch his eyes widen as thick horns sprout from you head, but he doesn’t have a second, or even the ability, to move away in time, caught directly in your range as you shift forwards and ram the top of your head into him, lifting your foot off at that very moment in order to send him flying. He lands splayed and groaning into the seats across from you with a loud crashing sound. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. That’s one down. [[Next|train fight end good]]<</if>><</if>><<if $chaadd < 40>><<set $wound to true>>There’s a moment where you think you got him— where you raise your hands to placate him and settle the situation. You’re sure that you can get through to him, do or say //anything// that may stop this violent course of events. But as soon as you do and see him hesitate, it’s gone before you can act. Your brain fumbles the words and you can’t speak them, leaving you a sputtering mess as you are suddenly the target of a very angry and very mad looking dragon. The shifter runs at you at full speed, you having just enough intelligence to back up to not take the brunt of it. But he still hits you, and hits you //hard//. You practically go flying as his head rams into your ribs, horns narrowly avoiding splitting you open as you count your blessings and land on the cold subway floor with a wheeze. Shit. That didn’t work. Not for a second. <<if $dragonsize is "small">><<if $dragonsize is "medium">>You shift back, shaking slightly as you do.<</if>><</if>> [[Next|train fight end bad]]<</if>>

As you stand eyeing your opponent across from you, your eyes narrow. There’s a fiery glow to his chest every time he takes in a breath that you know all too well by now. And if he’s preparing for that inevitability, then so should you. You hesitate just for a moment, enough time to really consider your next action. Is it worth the dangers of using your breath in such a tight space? Then you watch as the man in front of you lurches forwards. It’s not really a choice now, is it? <<if $species is "lightningspitter">>You jerk back your head and lift your forearms off of the ground, tail lashing behind you. It’s impossible to call upon any lightning from the sky here, but you know you can still draw upon your reserves. Make it count. That’s all that matters anyway. Sucking in your next breath is like breathing through toxic chemicals. You feel the burn as it fills your lungs and sends every inch of your body alight. The scales along your spine sit on edge and to attention as you feel your insides crackle with unspent energy. The man in front of you suddenly pauses in his attack, gaze growing wary as you stand before him. You see the lights around you begin to flicker, the already weak lighting system turning the small space dizzying. And just before you think you can take no more of this ozone filling your lungs, you let it loose. The space explodes. A few things happen at once. First, you hear the buzzing in your ears, a tell-tale sign of the electricity reaching a peak in your body, then you hear all the lights in the two cars //explode//. Then you hear the buzzing of a different explosion. The earth-shatteringly direct explosion of your breath, an accumulation of energy and light and //fire// all hitting the same place at once. But the bright flash only lasts a second. And then you are plunged into sheer darkness. The cars go quiet— you can’t even hear if the fighting has continued behind you, you can only listen as there are a few shouts of confusion over the loud rumbling movement of the train along the track. You stand still, senses still on edge from your breath’s release, now panting as you draw in any excess energy, jaws steaming. The lights from the tunnel outside the train flash a brief second of light into the cars, bathing the room in a split second of pure red. And you see the Firespitter jumping straight at you. It feels like the entire place returns to the action in seconds, you shouting a surprised curse as you duck and rush away to avoid his claws while behind you the sounds of struggle return. Shit shit shit. You move out of the way as another flash of scarlet light illuminates a set of jaws snapping inches away from your throat. Fuck fuck fuck. You dodge again as the place illuminates again, this time not with the light from outside the tunnel, but instead the light within as your car is lit up just the slightest bit with flames. Your attacker’s flames, you realize with a start. You snap back as the fire illuminates a set of claws clamping down right where you once stood. Then the flames die out again and you are plunged into darkness.<</if>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>You shake yourself out, cold gathering unconsciously along your scales as you steel yourself. Instead of going straight for the attack, you watched with narrowed eyes as the Firespitter comes straight for you. Hold. He readies a leap. Hold. He jumps straight for you. Hold. His claws come inches from your face. Now. You quickly whip to the side, narrowly avoiding the man, all sharp edges, as he lands exactly where you once were. You manage to move back just enough to avoid the largest attack— but now it’s your turn. You summon all your focus to your insides. It starts at the lungs. Like stepping outside into a snowy landscape where you once stood inside a warm home, the cold comes like breathing in the crispest air imaginable. It shocks your insides and your senses flare, as do the spikes along your spine as you whip around to face your attacker, now behind him. Your front feet lift unconsciously off of the ground as he spins to face you, eyes alight with dangerous intention. You’re sure your own eyes are the same. As your front two feet come down on the floor below, you release your breath like a beam. Instantly, the air grows cold, you can see the closest window to you frosting over in seconds as the bright, flashing white-ish blue beam erupts from your throat. Just as quickly though, the ice melts on the window, and you recognize a change in the air. It’s warmer. You can barely see over your breath to catch an eye of another color licking at the space, the cause of the entire room suddenly and quickly filling with steam. Your attacker has brought his own breath weapon to the party. Oh //shit//. You put on the pressure, squeezing your lungs all the tighter as you attempt to push your ice to its maximum, the sound of ice melting and fire steaming overwhelming your senses. Your nostrils flare with the effort, your body unable to keep up with the unexpected strain. You can’t keep this up for long. And you won’t. At the last moment, you yank your head and body away from the direction in which it was pointed, letting out a roar as you narrowly avoid the overwhelming mass of flames that hiss and melt at your body. The man still stands opposed to you, snapping his jaws shut with a low growl. Smoke pools and pours from his maw while frost steams from your panting own. You’re not on equal ground here— not with him.<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>You know committing to your flames in this metal death trap may not be the wisest move, but you have to trust yourself and your skills. Everyone in here has already proven their willingness to not let the flame go out unfed, why should you be any different? You narrow your eyes and crouch close to the ground, awaiting your attackers next move. He stalks towards you, similarly on edge as he prepares for any number of tricks you have up your sleeve. But he sticks back. He must see the way your eyes burn— the way your throat and chest illuminate and glow with each breath, the smoke pooling and burning in your gut while hissing out from between the gaps in your teeth. You’re ready for him. He narrows his eyes. A firefight then. He rushes forwards suddenly with a roar, jaws spread wide. You spark to attention, snapping open your own jaws and releasing the pillar of flame that sat un-ingnited in your throat, ready to be released. For a moment you watch as it swallows him whole, flames curling and gasping around his form. But only for a moment. Because in the next your own fire takes a different shape. That of outstretched claws and dangerous teeth. You yank your head back as your attacker suddenly shoots out of your flames, having barreled straight through it, and comes straight at you. His light scales barely look touched, remains of scorches littering his hide. But it does not deter him. And you must go down with the ship. You cry out as he falls upon you, pinning you to the ground in a moment that flashes pure panic through you as you watch his own jaws open, fire catching alight in his throat inches away from your wide-opened eye. In your panic, you quickly move, clamping your teeth down on his forearm and igniting another light within your lungs, the flames roiling forth to an isolated zone that quickly grows hot to the touch. It stops your pursuer for a moment, just enough time for him to roar and snap his arm out of your jaws, and just enough time for you to shimmy and scramble out from underneath him. Your body is steaming and so is his as you stare each other down. You may have met your match in fire-resistance, but he knows what he’s dong. Far more than you do.<</if>><<if $species is "venomspitter">>You have a brief moment to think before you act. The space is still heavy between the distance offered in the car, and you stand on edge, narrowing your focus in on the moment. Your frills twitch with anticipation. Working with your venom is a careful thing. You may not be at risk to yourself, but spitting and spewing acid everywhere has never brought a Venomspitter to victory. It’s a careful line you have to tread with your breath, even more careful within this confined space— your ally fighting just behind you. That means that when your attacker finally begins to rush at you, you rush back. You cannot let him back you up any further. Not here. You must have the edge at all costs. As you rush him, you watch him prepare for a direct blow, some kind of head-on collision, but you don’t allow him to predict your moves. You //cannot//. You duck to his side, catching him off guard as you suddenly lower yourself to the ground and pounce over to his side, leaping onto him with a huff as you scramble to stay on and unopposed. The shifter under you growls and hisses, spinning around and around to land any hit on you, but you dig your claws in deep and wrap your tail around his middle, clinging on for dear life. You feel the cold chill as your venom comes to you then, like a shock of a brain freeze straight from your fangs. You hiss and snap open your jaws, fangs extending slightly as you prepare to sink them into an open spot between the man’s shoulder-blades. You can make this quick and efficient. Just enough time to escape. That’s all you need. But your confidence is snapped away from you all at once as the cold chill around you suddenly grows painful, like frostbite. But you know that the shifter you are dealing with is no Frostspitter. Then all at once his body erupts into flames. With you on it. You leap back and off of him as your scales sting and singe with the scorching flames that now cover the man’s entire body. You curl in on yourself, staring with wide eyes as he stands on his back two legs and looks over to you, slowly, menacingly, as if you were just a fly on his back. He is consumed with flames from head to toe, the shape and light of them obscuring what could once have been a dragon. //Of course he’d fight back like this.// You think. //You clearly brought breath weapons into the mix.//<</if>> You scramble out of the way of another flaming blast that narrowly bites at your tail. You cannot keep this game up forever. You know this. You spin around him once again, back now to where you started as you shift back to gather yourself. [[Next|train fight end bad]]

As you turn your head to check in on your companion though, you watch him wrestle with the other two men, a deep cut through his side dripping blood as he shoves one of the two off of him and snarls. You’ve seen this guy fight. If he’s having trouble with those two, then what’s going to help you? The confidence leaves you all at once, and you can’t help but stare as he backs up towards you and looks over his shoulder to meet your gaze. His eyes are fierce, full of fire, but there’s something else. Something he’s not willing to risk. You’ve been fighting for too long against people who know far more than you. You know this. And gaining the upper hand like you have was lucky— but that’s just it. Luck. Luck and skill but damn if looking at these strangers reminds you of anything, blood on their mouths and on their clothes, you have to be lucky to survive this. You give your partner the same look. This can’t go on for longer. You have to call it. But how to even do that when these people want blood— //have// blood ready and waiting, that’s when it gets complicated. That’s when your heart starts hammering in your chest harder than you can take it. Then you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look over, startled, to see your companion gripping on tight. His hands are no longer on fire, but they might as well be considering how hot his touch is. You wince. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s glaring down the other men, sticking close to you and growling as they creep ever closer. You try and think through it for a moment. Maybe you two can team up together— try something they wouldn’t see coming. But time has been snatched away from you, every second being snapped under the boots of the men who seem to grow ever closer with each second you hesitate. You’re struck all at once by it. You don’t know what to do. You start hyperventilating slightly, catching your companions attention as he looks over to you, eyes a bit wide at your panic. But he says nothing, looking around for a moment before suddenly yanking you to your feet. The men around you growl and hiss, stopping in place as they wait for the match. The fire starter. But your ally seems to have other plans, quickly pulling you close and as you look around frantically, searching for some way out and away from him, all of it— you see it. The train gets lighter all of a sudden, and you catch sight of the most divine light you have ever seen. The next station. And the train is speeding right past it. Not you though. [[You are running straight to it.|train escape]]

You rise shakily, your gaze slowly rising to meet your companions. He wrestles and shoves one his attackers off of him, catching your eye in a moment of brevity. The eye of the storm. He’s bruised and beaten, bloodied now from a deep wound across his side. But his eyes are still full of fire. Or… they were. But as he meets your gaze, a recognition crosses his face. Some expression that lets you know that you look //terrified//. And his rage drops. Or at least hesitates. It returns as if he had been soaked in gasoline, quickly and without a second of pause. The moment is broken as one of the men pounces on him, biting deep into his shoulder and drawing blood. Your ally cries out and whips around, his clawed hands catching aflame before he yanks the man off of him and throws him at the other. The two tumble into each other and in that moment you truly do feel as scared as you look. What were you thinking— running into battle like this? You don’t know this man, and you can hardly say you owe him anymore considering how much blood has been spilled already. You turn your head to see your own attacker slowly approaching, hissing and spitting embers that pop and seam from his throat. You stay frozen in fear for what feels like forever. Would this man really try to kill you? Leave you nothing but a husk for some unfortunate stranger to find the next day? It feels cruel— too cruel for this place despite all that you have seen. What have you done to deserve this fate above all? Then you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look over, startled, to see your companion gripping on tight. His hands are no longer on fire, but they might as well be considering how hot his touch is. You wince. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s glaring down the other men, crouching low and close to you on the ground and growling as they creep ever closer. You’ve felt like prey this entire time from the people and institutes around you. It feels worse, then, that you recognize that familiar shock of cold fear seeping into you the same way it had before. If you feel like prey around ordinary people, then how are you ever supposed to feel normal again? You start hyperventilating slightly, catching your companions attention as he looks over to you, eyes a bit wide at your panic. But he says nothing, looking around for a moment before suddenly yanking you to your feet. The men around you growl and hiss, stopping in place as they wait for the match. The fire starter. But your ally seems to have other plans, quickly pulling you close and as you look around frantically, searching for some way out and away from him, all of it— you see it. The train gets lighter all of a sudden, and you catch sight of the most divine light you have ever seen. The next station. And the train is speeding right past it. Not you though. [[You are running straight to it.|train escape]]

It all happens in a flash. You think you could be dead with all of the noise blanking out as it does. You feel and watch yourself being yanked again close to your companion, who at this point begins to tighten his grip a little //too// much, and is pulled alongside as he dashes. But he doesn’t dash for a door, nor the people around him. No. He dashes for the light. Right out the window. You both hurtle for the already cracked window in which your very partner had his head smashed across just a moment ago. It’s almost like a comedy, the way you two lurch for the very thing that kickstarted this all. It’d be funnier if it didn’t make you scream. At the very last second the man holding you curls around you, fiery red scales licking at his face, and you hear yelling from the men around you before it all goes black. A moment of quiet. Then the silence explodes. You barely have a second to register the feeling of flying through the air before there’s a buck to your body, a shock of pain and devastating force that pushes all the air out of your body at once. You didn’t even hear the window shatter. Just the floor beneath you as you land on the concrete floor of the station, the noise all at once rushing back to you as you clench in close and hold on tight. You and your partner //skid// across the floor, sliding to a slow and agonizing stop. Your teeth rattle in your mouth and your brain rattles in your head, but you are okay. You’re //alive//. And damn if that’s not the most surprising thing to happen all day. You let out a shaky breath that rattles in your chest, not even realizing how long you had held your breath. You register faintly as your ally lets you go, one arm still trapped under you as he flops over onto the concrete. You pause to breathe another second, then drag your battered body to your other side, rolling off of his arm and similarly ending up on your back, staring up at the station ceiling. You two don’t say anything for the longest moment. You’re still registering that you’ve gotten away, listening as the train continues to lumber down the tracks further and further from you, when your companion speaks. “Fuck.” A laugh bursts from your chest, bubbling out before you can hold it back. You put both hands over your eyes, cringing at the way your muscles groan in protest at the movement, but you’re still breathing, and that’s a miracle in it of itself. “Fuck.” You reply, voice hoarse. The two of you lie like that a moment longer, the very air between you now different. You may not know this man but damn if you didn’t just get put through the wringer with him. That has to count for something, right? [[Next|leave subway]]

As you lie, continuing to gather yourself, you take a few stuttering breaths, coughing hard as the ache in your bones returns with a burning vengeance. It was already pushing it, moving in a full sprint just moments ago, but the break you thought you’d be getting from the ride turned out to be quite the opposite. <<if $wound is true>>In fact, you feel //quite// worse than before, your legs and head throbbing with waves of pain you can just manage to ignore well enough not to drive yourself into a panic.<</if>> You just survived that— didn’t you? It sure didn’t feel like it. There’s a groan that snaps you out of your reverie, a sound that cuts through the noises in your own head that makes you turn. The man beside you moves, hand to his side as he gradually moves to sit upright. You’re not sure how he’s doing it, it’d almost be admirable if it didn’t scare you so much. Is that what you have to be here? Strong and tough enough to shake off an event that nearly cost you your life? You swallow. “Who were those guys?” You ask, still lying down as you begin to move, curling your fingers and toes to remind yourself that they still work. Everything feels fuzzy. The dark-haired man looks down at you, blinking a few times. Did he forget you were here? “No one you need to worry about.” He replies, gruffly, taking a second to sigh out a breath before he clenches his teeth and stands. You give him a look, scrambling to sit up before your muscles have the chance to scream at you. “N-nothing to worry about?” You ask exasperatedly, fixing him with a look. No no— you’ve seen //far// too much shit to let this one go. He pauses, glancing over to you almost lazily, as if he would want to be anywhere but here right now. //That makes two of us, buddy.// [[“Please just- that was pretty intense, I could use some peace of mind right now honestly.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I mean- I get it. You’re probably used to being almost killed every other day, right?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]]

“I mean- I get it. You’re probably used to being almost killed every other day, right?” You laugh. The noise sounds a little fake leaving your throat, but you quickly swallow. Just a dry throat. Just the nerves settling. That’s all. Though you don’t phrase the comment like a question, you hope he catches on to your meaning. If your slightly shaking hands doesn’t give it away first. Something crosses his expression then, the man narrowing his eyes but saying nothing, remaining tight-lipped. You give him a moment. And another. Is he really going to leave you to hang high and dry on this one? You open your mouth to follow up before he finally speaks, cutting you off before you can make this anymore awkward. “They’re a local gang. Just a bunch of punks- shouldn’t bother a stranger unless you did something to them personally.” He replied, huffing and turning away from you, seemingly ready to drop the conversation just like that. //Oh he entirely did not deny that claim huh.// You blink, still stunned how nonchalantly he’s handling it all. “Why were they after you then?” You ask, managing to your feet with a bit of your struggle. You adjust your clothes but when you look back up, you’re met with a very dark look. The man glares at you quietly, the fire in his eyes now dark, muffled, and much //much// more threatening. You remember all at once that this man is still a stranger. “You new to this city or something? You don’t look familiar.” “I-” You cut yourself off this time. It seems like an odd question. How familiar do you have to be with a place to know if someone stands out? You adjust yourself. Are you that obvious? “I’m new here. Just got into town today. I’m…” You hesitate again. This man doesn’t exactly seem to want to hurt you, if him helping you out says anything about his character. Still, you can’t help the nerves rising in you once again. It’s difficult not to be paranoid when you’re isolated like this. So you lean on the one thing that may have you protected around here— even if it’s uncomfortable even to admit. “I’m with the King Institute. Atlas Drake, know him?” You ask, raising yourself a bit. Maybe you can even get some more insight into the people you’re working with. Get some reminder that you’re not alone in thinking how insane this all is. The fire returns to the stranger’s eyes, but this time it’s not as dark as before. It’s just… annoyed. Really annoyed. “Ugh. //Of course.// That makes sense now.” He rolls his eyes and fully turns away now, headed straight for the stairs out of the empty station. You startle a bit. You don’t know this guy— he //certainly// doesn’t seem to want to know you, but you have no clue where you are. No idea where to avoid in case the men find you again and quite honestly— nowhere to run. He seems, if anything, to know where he’s going. “Wait! How can I be sure those guys won’t come after me again?” You shout after him, taking a shaky step forwards. That seems to stop him again. One hand still on the railing, he turns to look back at you, expression fixed into a scowl. “Because they’re not after you. They’re after me, idiot. They think //I// killed their boss, after all.” [[Next|They think I killed their boss, after all.]]

“Please just- that was pretty intense, I could use some peace of mind right now honestly.” You ask, taking another moment to cast your eyes away and just //breathe//. You hope this stranger can hear or at least come to understand the desperation in your tone. It’s far from begging, but asking like this feels like reaching for the barest minimum of respect, something you feel that has been stolen from you the moment you set foot in the city. Something crosses his expression then, the man narrowing his eyes but saying nothing, remaining tight-lipped. You give him a moment. And another. Is he really going to leave you to hang high and dry on this one? You open your mouth to follow up before he finally speaks, cutting you off before you can make this anymore awkward. “They’re a local gang. Just a bunch of punks- shouldn’t bother a stranger unless you did something to them personally.” He replied, huffing and turning away from you, seemingly ready to drop the conversation just like that. You blink, still stunned how nonchalantly he’s handling it all. “Why were they after you then?” You ask, managing to your feet with a bit of your struggle. You adjust your clothes but when you look back up, you’re met with a very dark look. The man glares at you quietly, the fire in his eyes now dark, muffled, and much //much// more threatening. You remember all at once that this man is still a stranger. “You new to this city or something? You don’t look familiar.” “I-“ You cut yourself off this time. It seems like an odd question. How familiar do you have to be with a place to know if someone stands out? You adjust yourself. Are you that obvious? “I’m new here. Just got into town today. I’m…” You hesitate again. This man doesn’t exactly seem to want to hurt you, if him helping you out says anything about his character. Still, you can’t help the nerves rising in you once again. It’s difficult not to be paranoid when you’re isolated like this. So you lean on the one thing that may have you protected around here— even if it’s uncomfortable even to admit. “I’m with the King Institute. Atlas Drake, know him?” You ask, raising yourself a bit. Maybe you can even get some more insight into the people you’re working with. Get some reminder that you’re not alone in thinking how insane this all is. The fire returns to the stranger’s eyes, but this time it’s not as dark as before. It’s just… annoyed. Really annoyed. “Ugh. //Of course.// That makes sense now.” He rolls his eyes and fully turns away now, headed straight for the stairs out of the empty station. You startle a bit. You don’t know this guy— he //certainly// doesn’t seem to want to know you, but you have no clue where you are. No idea where to avoid in case the men find you again and quite honestly— nowhere to run. He seems, if anything, to know where he’s going. “Wait! How can I be sure those guys won’t come after me again?” You shout after him, taking a shaky step forwards. That seems to stop him again. One hand still on the railing, he turns to look back at you, expression fixed into a scowl. “Because they’re not after you. They’re after me, idiot. They think //I// killed their boss, after all.” [[Next|They think I killed their boss, after all.]]

You stop. What? It comes rushing back to you in bits and pieces, like soaked pieces of torn newspaper you can’t quite fish out of the river. They called him a murderer. Shouted it, if you recall right. Your eye catches a view of the patch on the shoulder of his bloodied hoodie again. A flower being burnt to a crisp. Same as on the men’s shoulders. Holy shit. “You’re //Brimstone//?” You exclaim breathily, eyes wide. You don’t know whether or not to be scared. On one hand, this man seems very capable of fighting— an intimidating person to go up against if anything. On the other, he seems more than happy to leave you along your way, and doesn’t really seem like he wants to be here any longer than you do. Still, you don’t move and he doesn’t either. Just rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Any new revelations you need me to hold your hand through? Or are we like…done here?” He asks, already slowly beginning to look away from you. No. Shit. You need this. Any step closer you can get to escape this hell of a situation you’ve found yourself in. You take another step forwards, feeling very much at that moment like a churchgoer pleading to an unresponsive priest. “No- wait wait- I can help you!” You blurt, regretting the words almost as soon as they leave your lips. The man sighs again, clearly exasperated, but stands still, brow raised in your direction. You have his attention. As impatient as it is. “I can contact Drake— he knows people. We’ve been investigating the murder anyway.” You search his eyes for a moment. “Maybe we can clear your name?” There’s a pause in the conversation. The longest you’ve had with this man since knowing him. You don’t move. Neither does he, hand still on the railing. The railing is bloody under his hand. [[“No.”|subway leave]]

“Huh?” You sputter, watching in shock as the stranger turns and continues to walk up the stairs. Seriously? You thought that deal sounded pretty sick— a lot better than the one you were shafted with. Your face heats up a bit. “Hey wait up!” You move after the man, groaning a bit under your breath at the pain that makes you just the slightest bit dizzy. Still, you continue, hopping out of the cover the subway offers back into the night air as the man continues walking down the lonely street. You don’t know why you expected it to be light out. Everything in the train felt like it moved like a blur and somehow was agonizingly long. “I’m not interested in your charity case pal. I don’t work with cops.” The man answers from ahead of you, lifting his head and shoulders at once. A //cop//? Oh god are you a //cop// now? Your stomach churns but still you rush to catch up with him, casting a look down a particularly dark alley on your way over. “No no- hold on man please. I can seriously help you! Just hear me out.” You continue, slowing down beside him. [[“I don’t want to be working with them either, okay? I know they can be… difficult.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I have resources- just let me return the favor, you don’t have to commit to anything.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reesesrelationshippos +=10)>>“I don’t want to be working with them either, okay? I know they can be… difficult.” You respond, frowning a bit at your own words. It’s kind of an admittance of your own needs, but if anything, you suspect getting on the same page with this guy is going to save you a lot of grief. He snorts. “That’s an understatement.” He huffs. You purse your lips and follow up with your comment. “Listen- I really don’t want to be involved in this either. The sooner this case gets solved, the sooner I can remove myself from this whole…” You twirl a hand around, looking for the word as the two of you walk. “Shitfest?” He fills in, raising a brow in your direction. You pause for a second and nod. You watch him eye you warily for another moment before he raises his head and sighs, muttering to himself in another language you just barely can’t identify in time before he looks back at you, now stopped on the sidewalk. “Fine. I respect the honesty, and I don’t…” He pauses again to give you another look. Okay you get it. “Don’t exactly envy it.” You have to stifle a stiff laugh, instead pushing a tired breath out of your nose. <<if $species is "frostspitter">>It turns into a fog in the air.<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>It turns into a steam in the air.<</if>> But the man continues before you can speak further. “Don’t expect me to stick around though.” He frowns, brow furrowing back into seriousness. “I’m doing it for Scott, not you.” You hesitate for a second. Scott Camlann. The Brimstone leader who was murdered. You don’t know why you pause so long on it. You expected maybe a grand title, some acclaim to fame and fury that this man had been built up as in your mind, laid out in the beige folders that made paper cuts in your impressions. But Scott? The simple name of a brother— a father maybe. Someone you’re sure you could’ve known if they didn’t belong to such a different world than yours. Not even Camlann. Just Scott. “You still with me <<if $height is "short">>pipsqueak?<</if>><<if $height is "average">>chief?<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>beanstalk?<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>tall dark and scary?<</if>>” He asks, interrupting your thought. You blink, a bit taken off guard? Was that… a nickname? Your nose wrinkles a bit. [[“I have a name, you know.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“That’s… not even close to my name.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

“I have resources- just let me return the favor, you don’t have to commit to anything.” You reason, biting back any further information. You’re not exactly willing to elaborate on your own terms of the agreement, but you’ll explain however much you know. You’re still new to this yourself anyways. And you’re already recruiting help— damn you hope you get paid extra for this. You internally choke. You’re not being paid at all. “Eh…” The man replies, looking at you a little sideways. He needs more convincing, it’s clear. “How do I know that you wouldn’t throw me right into a cell the moment I talked, huh?” You kind of wince at that. You didn’t expect him to trust you, but do you seem that intense? That quick to the draw? That ready to forsake any help the moment it doesn’t outright benefit you? Huh. You choose to believe it’s due to your forced alliance. “I wouldn’t- I swear on everything.” You raise a hand. “Just come and talk to Atlas with me. All we need is a little help. I owe you for back in the station.” There’s another long pause before the man sighs, stopped now in the middle of the sidewalk as he sighs, defeated. His shoulders slump dramatically as he raises his head and mutters to himself in another language you just barely can’t identify in time before he looks back at you. “Fine.” You let out a breath. “Don’t expect me to stick around though.” He frowns, brow furrowing back into seriousness. “I’m doing it for Scott, not you.” You pause for a second. Scott Camlann. The Brimstone leader who was murdered. You don’t know why you hesitate so long on it. You expected maybe a grand title, some acclaim to fame and fury that this man had been built up as in your mind, laid out in the beige folders that made paper cuts in your impressions. But Scott? The simple name of a brother— a father maybe. Someone you’re sure you could’ve known if they didn’t belong to such a different world than yours. Not even Camlann. Just Scott. “You still with me <<if $height is "short">>pipsqueak?<</if>><<if $height is "average">>chief?<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>beanstalk?<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>tall dark and scary?<</if>>” He asks, interrupting your thought. You blink, a bit taken off guard? Was that… a nickname? Your nose wrinkles a bit. [[“I have a name, you know.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“That’s… not even close to my name.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

“I have a name, you know.” You reply, frowning a bit further. Figures. You spend one moment convincing him to help and the next defending your very honor. You hold your tongue from provoking things further though, breaking eye contact for a moment so you can glare at a loose can sprawled across the pavement. The man lifts his head in your direction, a quiet nod of acknowledgement. “Aye?” He asks, provoking you to continue. At least there’s an in. You think it over for a moment. What would you even consider offering? [[You have a nickname]] [[You don't have a nickname|Give him your name]]

“That’s… not even close to my name.” You reply, a bit exasperated. Atlas may have spoken over you more often than not, but at least he was straight to the point. The snide bites and comments this guy makes are a bit exhausting all things considered. You’ve been through enough today. Shouting off your only possible lead in the case doesn’t exactly sound smart though, if you even wanted to, so you keep your mouth closed. “Aye?” He asks, provoking you to continue. At least there’s an in. You think it over for a moment. What would you even consider offering? [[You have a nickname]] [[You don't have a nickname|Give him your name]]

//Hey! Hope I’m not bothering you. I’ve got some important info.// A text comes in rather quickly after yours. //Explain.// Ah. Right to the point then. Reese raises his eyebrows at you. //I’ve got a Brimstone gang member here. May help us with the case?// This response takes a while longer, and you feel the discomfort seep into you the longer you wait. Was this the wrong move? You don’t think Atlas can fire you, not due to lack of trying you’re sure, but what if this move only lands you in deeper trouble? You frown at the screen, waiting for any sign of life. //Where should I meet you?// Not a question. You look back up at Reese, who fixes you with a look. You show him the message and he frowns, letting out an irritated huff through his nose. He does that a lot you notice. “Tell him to meet us at Merlin’s Cave. Alone.” He replies after giving it a few seconds of thought. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Could not have sounded more like a scary gang member if you tried.” You blurt in response, looking away quickly as you are shot another glare by the man.<<else>>You side eye Reese at that comment, but don't say anything.<</if>> You shoot that location back to Atlas, earning a quick //‘Alright.’// in response before turning off your phone. You look again to Reese. “Merlin’s Cave?” You ask. Please don’t let this be another terrifying alleyway or institute location. “A bar I know that should keep us safe from any scavenging gang members.” He replies, lifting his head again to stare at the sky. You follow his line of sight to see some of the stars being blotted away slowly by dark clouds. It’s not exactly ominous, staring up into the endless void, and instead you find yourself tracing the outlines of clouds as they blend and shift into one another. “Let’s get there before the rain comes in.” [[You nod, and he turns to lead the way down the street.]]

//I got a witness. Come meet us.// A text comes in rather quickly after yours. //Explain.// You scowl at the screen. Reese raises his eyebrows at you. //I’ve got a Brimstone gang member here. We need to meet.// This response takes a while longer, and you feel the discomfort seep into you the longer you wait. Was this the wrong move? You don’t think Atlas can fire you, not due to lack of trying you’re sure, but what if this move only lands you in deeper trouble? You frown at the screen, waiting for any sign of life. //Where should I meet you?// Not a question. You look back up at Reese, who fixes you with a look. You show him the message and he frowns, letting out an irritated huff through his nose. He does that a lot you notice. “Tell him to meet us at Merlin’s Cave. Alone.” He replies after giving it a few seconds of thought. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Could not have sounded more like a scary gang member if you tried.” You blurt in response, looking away quickly as you are shot another glare by the man.<<else>>You side eye Reese at that comment, but don't say anything.<</if>> You shoot that location back to Atlas, earning a quick //‘Alright.’// in response before turning off your phone. You look again to Reese. “Merlin’s Cave?” You ask. Please don’t let this be another terrifying alleyway or institute location. “A bar I know that should keep us safe from any scavenging gang members.” He replies, lifting his head again to stare at the sky. You follow his line of sight to see some of the stars being blotted away slowly by dark clouds. It’s not exactly ominous, staring up into the endless void, and instead you find yourself tracing the outlines of clouds as they blend and shift into one another. “Let’s get there before the rain comes in.” [[You nod, and he turns to lead the way down the street.]]

//Can I ask you for something?// You tap the side of your phone idly. A text comes in rather quickly after yours. //Explain.// Ah. Yeah you should’ve expected something to the point. //I’ve got a possible witness? Can we meet up to talk I think you could help.// This response takes a while longer, and you feel the discomfort seep into you the longer you wait. Was this the wrong move? You don’t think Atlas can fire you, not due to lack of trying you’re sure, but what if this move only lands you in deeper trouble? You frown at the screen, waiting for any sign of life. //Where should I meet you?// Not a question. You look back up at Reese, who fixes you with a look. You show him the message and he frowns, letting out an irritated huff through his nose. He does that a lot you notice. “Tell him to meet us at Merlin’s Cave. Alone.” He replies after giving it a few seconds of thought. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Could not have sounded more like a scary gang member if you tried.” You blurt in response, looking away quickly as you are shot another glare by the man.<<else>>You side eye Reese at that comment, but don't say anything.<</if>> You shoot that location back to Atlas, earning a quick //‘Alright.’// in response before turning off your phone. You look again to Reese. “Merlin’s Cave?” You ask. Please don’t let this be another terrifying alleyway or institute location. “A bar I know that should keep us safe from any scavenging gang members.” He replies, lifting his head again to stare at the sky. You follow his line of sight to see some of the stars being blotted away slowly by dark clouds. It’s not exactly ominous, staring up into the endless void, and instead you find yourself tracing the outlines of clouds as they blend and shift into one another. “Let’s get there before the rain comes in.” [[You nod, and he turns to lead the way down the street.]]

//You up?// You laugh to yourself at your own joke. A text comes in after a longer moment. //Yes. Why?// Ah. That one flew over him too huh. Reese raises his eyebrows at you. //Never mind. I got a witness, can we meet?// This response takes a while longer, and you feel the discomfort seep into you the longer you wait. Was this the wrong move? You don’t think Atlas can fire you, not due to lack of trying you’re sure, but what if this move only lands you in deeper trouble? You frown at the screen, waiting for any sign of life. //Where should I meet you?// Not a question. You look back up at Reese, who fixes you with a look. You show him the message and he frowns, letting out an irritated huff through his nose. He does that a lot you notice. “Tell him to meet us at Merlin’s Cave. Alone.” He replies after giving it a few seconds of thought. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Could not have sounded more like a scary gang member if you tried.” You blurt in response, looking away quickly as you are shot another glare by the man.<<else>>You side eye Reese at that comment, but don't say anything.<</if>> You shoot that location back to Atlas, earning a quick //‘Alright.’// in response before turning off your phone. You look again to Reese. “Merlin’s Cave?” You ask. Please don’t let this be another terrifying alleyway or institute location. “A bar I know that should keep us safe from any scavenging gang members.” He replies, lifting his head again to stare at the sky. You follow his line of sight to see some of the stars being blotted away slowly by dark clouds. It’s not exactly ominous, staring up into the endless void, and instead you find yourself tracing the outlines of clouds as they blend and shift into one another. “Let’s get there before the rain comes in.” [[You nod, and he turns to lead the way down the street.]]

//I have an important witness.// You just want this to be as painless as possible. A text comes in rather quickly after yours. //Explain.// He wants to get to the point too it seems. //I told you. I have someone that can help us out. Need to meet up.// This response takes a while longer, and you feel the discomfort seep into you the longer you wait. Was this the wrong move? You don’t think Atlas can fire you, not due to lack of trying you’re sure, but what if this move only lands you in deeper trouble? You frown at the screen, waiting for any sign of life. //Where should I meet you?// Not a question. You look back up at Reese, who fixes you with a look. You show him the message and he frowns, letting out an irritated huff through his nose. He does that a lot you notice. “Tell him to meet us at Merlin’s Cave. Alone.” He replies after giving it a few seconds of thought. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Could not have sounded more like a scary gang member if you tried.” You blurt in response, looking away quickly as you are shot another glare by the man.<<else>>You side eye Reese at that comment, but don't say anything.<</if>> You shoot that location back to Atlas, earning a quick //‘Alright.’// in response before turning off your phone. You look again to Reese. “Merlin’s Cave?” You ask. Please don’t let this be another terrifying alleyway or institute location. “A bar I know that should keep us safe from any scavenging gang members.” He replies, lifting his head again to stare at the sky. You follow his line of sight to see some of the stars being blotted away slowly by dark clouds. It’s not exactly ominous, staring up into the endless void, and instead you find yourself tracing the outlines of clouds as they blend and shift into one another. “Let’s get there before the rain comes in.” [[You nod, and he turns to lead the way down the street.]]

The silence, this time, you actively participate in. Your head hurts— not an incoming headache thank goodness, but the faint stinging keeps your senses on edge. Maybe that’s for the best out here. It’s rather upsetting honestly, the way you’ve been quickly conditioned into the way of life here in the city. It feels like one freak accident after another, and despite your short time within the city’s boundaries, you already are looking down streets and eyeing strangers warily. A shadow passes overhead and you snap your head to look upwards, catching sight of a flying figure passing from rooftop to rooftop. Not out for you. Obviously. You rub at your face and when you look ahead again, you see Reese giving you a look. You stare back but he doesn’t say anything, instead turning back around and continuing to walk. You must look crazier than you feel. <<if $wound is true>>As you continue, your aches and pains only grow worse. You wipe at the back of your neck, which is damp from sweat, and wince at the pressure you put on your back as you lower your arm. Damn. You’ll still be alright but the battle in the station didn’t do you any favors. Certainly not after you pushed yourself so hard during the day already beforehand. You hiss a pained breath through your teeth and slow down enough to tighten an arm around your forearm, squeezing down the shaky wave of pain. It grows, then suddenly like pressure being let out of a tire, eases out, the pressure subsiding as it does.<<else>>The pain isn’t one that subsides, but neither does it grow, instead relegated to a buzzing hum signaling to your senses that all is not well. You think the warning is a bit redundant. You’re paranoid enough as is— the squeeze of tension across your shoulders doesn’t seem quite that necessary. You wince a bit but keep moving.<</if>> “You good? We can relocate the meeting spot to a hospital if you want.” You look towards Reese, who is again fixing you with a particular look. <<if $kind > 50 >>Oh. Maybe he’s actually trying to help? “Ah- I’m okay. Thank you though.” You reply, giving him a kind of tight smile. He looks perplexed. Did you miss something? Instead of clarifying, he just shakes his head and continues walking with an over-dramatic roll of his eyes. Weird.<</if>><<if $kind < 50>>You heard how he deadpanned that line. He’s definitely making fun of you. “Shut up.” You growl back at him. There’s a light of amusement that flares in his eyes, and he smirks back at you before continuing ahead. Asshole. Why’s everyone you met been such an asshole?<</if>> You two walk in silence for another moment, turning corners and blocks as the night grows ever darker and ever colder. [[“I never thanked you for helping me.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“How much longer do we have to go?”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[Focus on keeping your thoughts to yourself.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“I never thanked you for helping me.” Reese stops. He doesn’t turn to look at you, but you can tell in the stiffness of his posture that he’s taken off guard. “What?” He asks, slowly drawing his head to the side to turn to you. His voice is harder than his expression, eyes searching you as he tries to understand what you mean. Were you really that difficult to grasp? You adjust slightly and clear your throat before elaborating. “Uh- back in the train. You… kind of saved my ass. So thank you.” You spot it then. Reese, still slightly hunched over, staring at you like you just told him you’re from another planet. But what catches you off guard is not his eyes, but the red that dusts his cheeks as he quickly turns away and picks up his pace. “Whatever. You owe me, that’s all.” He grumbles, wiping at his face before he gets too far away from you to check his expression. You don’t catch up right away, frozen in place. Huh. You smile to yourself and follow. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. [[Next|bar arrive]]

Focus on keeping your thoughts to yourself. You don’t want to provoke this many any further than you have to- he already seems like a loose cannon, ready to shoot at any moment, and you’re more than happy to keep to yourself this time. <<if $collar is true>>You itch at the skin just under the device still closed around your throat and frown. Atlas better show up- he has a lot of explaining to do. It almost feels like you have more important matters to attend to though, despite the //very// present and noticeable issue still clung to you even now like a shadow. You can feel your pulse beat around the thing. It does not beat slow. <<else>>The idea of meeting back up with Atlas after… well after everything doesn’t sit quite right. If you could speak on it, you’d hardly say it sat at all— instead the exhaustion of pre-planning your words swirling like a fish struggling on a line. You stare at the back of Reese’s head. With this guy involved too? You’ll be more than happy if the bar doesn’t burn down in the process.<</if>> You kick a can down the street a bit, huffing a breath out of your nose as you think. Soon, this day will be over and you can go to bed. Just a little longer and you can rest. A little longer and you can fall into a blissful //dreamless// sleep. You cross your fingers. Please. [[Next|bar arrive]]

The pavement turns into a dazzling prism of colors as the lights above you shine across the wet puddles splashed along the dark concrete. Lights of restaurants, cornerstones, and the soft glow of homes that filter golden outside their blinds all catch your eye, making you slowly take in the sights. It’s an oddly beautiful thing, wrapped up in the murmur of street life just beginning to rumble at your feet. Catching sight of the people passing, sharing laughter, sharing the odd frozen yogurt— it soothes the panic that had previously been driven up your spine like a stake to your nerves. It helps that the activity is kept low here, just enough to not make you feel trapped or constricted in any way. You could spread your wings here. Well— if you wanted. And when Reese turns a corner, you follow, turning your head from the noise behind you to stare at the scene now ahead of you. A wide flat building stands in front of you, shoved in between buildings and squeezed almost to the back of the sidewalk. There’s a very noticeable distance between the end of the sidewalk and the entrance to the bar, as if it was built such a long time ago and was just too stubborn to move. A short alleyway cuts through its right side, but you can only see a back door and a pile of trash cans before it meets another brick wall and stops short. No alleyway chases here. The sign buzzes loudly enough for you to hear it from here, perched slightly askew but endearing nevertheless. Bright orange letters that look the color of old whiskey. They flicker just a little. //[[Merlin’s Cave.]]//

“How much longer do we have to go?” You can practically //hear// the way Reese’s eyes roll back into his head. Uh oh. You watch him lift a clawed hand to his face to rub aggressively at his eyes. “No- no we are not doing this bud,” He replies, huffing out what sounds like a very forced laugh. He turns to you but keeps walking, seemingly familiar enough with the streets to know how far to step over the usual debris and cracks in the sidewalk. “I’m coming here out of the //kindness// of my heart-“ You resist rolling your own eyes at that. “And I can leave at anytime, just say the word.” He places his hands over his heart for a moment, looking at you with a fake expression that just begs for you to continue so he can take any excuse to make things worse. All things almighty. You just look away with a frown and shake your head. He nods, satisfied. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine.” [[Next|bar arrive]]

You take a step forwards, almost entranced by the warm lights, before noticing that Reese hasn’t stepped closer. Turning to look at him, you see a frown set firmly across his features, expression tight as he stares up at the same lights as you. Is there something else he sees in them? “Everything alright?” You ask, tilting your head. He blinks down back at you, again as if he forgot you were there. //He tends to do that a lot.// “Yeah. Hold on, I need to take care of something,” He replies, already walking off towards the alley before you can respond. You frown. More of this? But you follow nevertheless, quietly reminding yourself to take care of your own sanity as you stop at the foot of the alleyway, not stepping anywhere deeper inside. You watch silently as Reese steps over to one of the nearby trash cans, removing his hands from his pockets. In one swift motion, he pulls his hoodie off, the dark washed-out gray and blue of the thing swung firmly above his head. You catch sight of his bare side as he pulls his arms above his head, eyes widening slightly at the dried, bloody mess of a gash that paints his side. He didn’t seem to notice it at all. Your eyes raise as he lowers his arms and holds the hoodie in his hands, staring down at it. Is this the type of person you have to become in this city? Silence strikes the moment for longer than you anticipate. You’re staring at Reese, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does— he doesn’t really care. He only remains quiet as he rubs a circle into the fabric of the hoodie, emotions clouding his eyes that you can’t put a name to before he closes them and takes in a breath. You stand there for another moment. Then, with a weighty finality that should not be as suffocating as it is, he drops the hoodie into the trash can, moving away from it and bumping into you as he walks away and out of the alleyway, sparing not another word. You stare at the trashcan, abandoned at the side of the brick wall. The hoodie sits atop a bundle of trash just barely hidden beneath the silver tint of the metal. A sleeve hangs limp from the side though, and your gaze locks onto the patch resting now splattered with drops of now long-dried blood. A strange flower being burned away. You don’t even know whose blood it is. “You know we //could// wait outside and freeze to death if you want,” Your thoughts are interrupted as you turn to see Reese next to you with another bored half-glare. It sucks being under that stare. “But I figured I could be the voice of reason yet again.” You raise a brow at him. No. No you’re keeping it together. It can wait. He takes your silence as acknowledgement and walks inside. You follow. [[Next|bar enter]]

Stepping inside Merlin’s Cave is like stepping into a greenhouse. You don’t know why that’s the first thing that strikes you, but you cannot think of any other word as the warmth of the room blasts the chill of the air outside off of your face and you blink your eyes open to see activity all around you. People move, shout, laugh, and eat all around, coagulated into their little pockets of the world, away from everything. The bar is located in the middle of it all, like an island for sloppy drunk sailors to perch upon and sing songs back to the sirens. Glasses hang from the top of the bar itself and glimmer with the honey-sick lighting that turn the oak of the floorboards a deep shade. Some tables haven’t been cleaned yet, minimal staff moving from place to place as they get caught up in the excitement of activity. But you can’t seem to care— instead taken aback by how //safe// everything feels. You wind your hands together. The laughter should be splitting, the sticky tables off-putting, but you aren’t bothered by any of it. Then you notice why things seem so different here. Multicolored tails swish beneath high legs of chairs. Fangs are bared back in laughter. Frills and spikes flare. Everyone here is… a dragon shifter. Or at least comfortable with that. You can spot a very human-looking woman patting the arm of her husband as he launches into another story, blue scales rippling along his cheeks as he smiles in excitement. Another man sat alone looks up as one of the servers brings him a plate of something that makes your stomach //growl//. Oh man you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you got in here. “Order what you like. I’m going to get us a spot to sit.” Reese piques up, apparently hearing your stomach as well. Ah. He turns away and you are again left with the magnitude of possibilities. If the entire city was like this— hell you don’t know if you’d ever leave. Instead though, you shake yourself, casting your gaze around yourself once again before you step up to the bar island. Looks like your best bet. Your eye catches on the glasses which hang upside down, a glimmer of light blinding you for a second before a shape blocks it out. “Need anything sweetheart?” You perk up at the voice, a soft and deep rumbling thing. A woman stands before you, impressively tall, <<if $height is "huge">>even managing to meet your eyes,<</if>> with a dish rag slung over one broad shoulder. She’s all soft smiles and hard edges, you notice. Deep black twists of tightly-curled, fluffy hair runs down just slightly past her shoulders as warm brown eyes fix upon you. Her skin is a dark brown and, you notice with a start, spotted with cuts and slashes running down exposed skin, old things that heal over strong arms and muscle. Her smile is a war zone of these scars, a large one crossing over her lips and chin that looks similar to a burn mark. But her smile is still soft, still considerate, still //way// too nice for someone who has very obviously been through as much as she has. “Sorry did I startle you love?” She asks, now a bit hesitant though she chuckles regardless. You pause. Oh. Shit you’re here for something. Something, you realize, that you have no idea where to start with, as you search for a menu to no avail. “I- uh… I…” You start, trailing off as you raise your head and even begin to look around at other orders before the lady stops you. “Hey hey it’s all good. I can tell you’re not a regular. Relax.” She affirms, raising a hand to settle you as you focus back on her. She turns her palm outwards. “I’m Caroline. Owner of Merlin’s Cave. Are you new in town? Or just to this area?” She asks. You… [[Shake her hand.]] [[Don’t shake her hand.]]

<center>[[CHAPTER ONE|start]]</center>

You grasp back at her outstretched palm, blinking at how warm and tight her grip is as she shakes your hand back. She smiles just the slightest bit wider and draws back. “New to town. Got in today. I’m $name.” You reply. You choose to leave out the… well, the //everything// about your situation. You’re still uncertain of who you can trust and who you can realistically offer the whole story from start to finish. Even wrapping your own head around it makes you groggy. Or maybe that’s just the hunger pangs again. “Well $name, I hope ya’ enjoy your stay. You with anyone?” She asks. You stop for a moment. You hadn’t been… welcomed to the city before now, you realize with a start. It doesn’t fill you with exactly //warmth// as it does remind you of how much of a disaster the day has already been, but it’s a start. Your eyes slowly slide to behind you, where you can spot Reese standing at the foot of a round booth table, staring up at what looks like to be a wall of photographs which collect mainly at that spot. “Oh.” You turn to look back at Caroline, who has an unreadable expression on her face now. The smile is gone but it’s not replaced by a glare. No it’s… it’s much sadder than that. You follow her gaze to Reese again. He’s still caught up staring at the photographs to notice. “I’m going to get you some fries, alright sweetheart?” She says, voice noticeably softer and quieter now. You look at her again, question dying on her tongue as she offers you a tighter smile than before. Right. Not your place. Not your business, all things considered. You nod at her and return to Reese’s side. He catches sight of you before you can see where exactly he’s looking though, and gives you a firm nod before seating himself against the worn red leather of the curled seat, back to the wall and eyes on the door. You take a second, glancing up at the photographs which litter the wall. There’s too many of them, all crowded and pinned over one another. You can make out faces— groups you’ve never seen and people you’ll never know. But you don’t linger on it long, instead sitting down next to Reese with a huff. He’s leaning over the table and not looking at you. In this light you can see him a bit better. The blur of all the action from before and his various layers did nothing to hide the perpetual scowl on his face, but now you can more clearly make out the silver piercing though his eyebrow and the black ones that spot his ears, which are unusually pointed. Another aspect of draconic traits you can’t quite wrap your head around. A dark tattoo of what look to be flames— or maybe petals, cling at the side of his neck and peek out just above his coat collar. [[Ask him about the tattoo.]] [[Ask him about his dragon features.]] [[Ask him about his part in the case.]] [[Actually— he’s really pretty under this light. (♡)][$reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reesesrelationshippos +=10)]]

You hesitate and frown, drawing back a little. This, however, does not seem to deter Caroline as she simply pulls back as well, giving you a brief nod of acknowledgement before she presses on. “New to town. Got in today. I’m $name.” You reply. You choose to leave out the… well, the //everything// about your situation. You’re still uncertain of who you can trust and who you can realistically offer the whole story from start to finish. Even wrapping your own head around it makes you groggy. Or maybe that’s just the hunger pangs again. “Well $name, I hope ya’ enjoy your stay. You with anyone?” She asks. You stop for a moment. You hadn’t been… welcomed to the city before now, you realize with a start. It doesn’t fill you with exactly //warmth// as it does remind you of how much of a disaster the day has already been, but it’s a start. Your eyes slowly slide to behind you, where you can spot Reese standing at the foot of a round booth table, staring up at what looks like to be a wall of photographs which collect mainly at that spot. “Oh.” You turn to look back at Caroline, who has an unreadable expression on her face now. The smile is gone but it’s not replaced by a glare. No it’s… it’s much sadder than that. You follow her gaze to Reese again. He’s still caught up staring at the photographs to notice. “I’m going to get you some fries, alright sweetheart?” She says, voice noticeably softer and quieter now. You look at her again, question dying on her tongue as she offers you a tighter smile than before. Right. Not your place. Not your business, all things considered. You nod at her and return to Reese’s side. He catches sight of you before you can see where exactly he’s looking though, and gives you a firm nod before seating himself against the worn red leather of the curled seat, back to the wall and eyes on the door. You take a second, glancing up at the photographs which litter the wall. There’s too many of them, all crowded and pinned over one another. You can make out faces— groups you’ve never seen and people you’ll never know. But you don’t linger on it long, instead sitting down next to Reese with a huff. He’s leaning over the table and not looking at you. In this light you can see him a bit better. The blur of all the action from before and his various layers did nothing to hide the perpetual scowl on his face, but now you can more clearly make out the silver piercing though his eyebrow and the black ones that spot his ears, which are unusually pointed. Another aspect of draconic traits you can’t quite wrap your head around. A dark tattoo of what look to be flames— or maybe petals, cling at the side of his neck and peek out just above his coat collar. [[Ask him about the tattoo.]] [[Ask him about his dragon features.]] [[Ask him about his part in the case.]] [[Actually— he’s really pretty under this light. (♡)][$reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reesesrelationshippos +=10)]]

It’s something that stands out to you in the same way that the dark ink stands out against his tanned skin. Just enough. Just a sliver beside the collarbone. Enough for you to blurt out the question that lingers even still on your tongue. “What’s the tattoo for?” You ask, breaking the quiet. He glances at you and continues to face the door, lazily eyeing you as his frown deepens. “None of your business newbie.” He growls back, resting his head on a hand as he goes back to staring a hole in the exit. You blink a few seconds before frowning right back and crossing your arms as you lean back into your seat. Alright. Fuck you for trying to engage in conversation, I guess. You take the space instead to stare up at the photos to your side, leaning your head back so it rests against the old wood panels of the wall. You let out a breath. Here, you can see things closer, and can more properly make out the multitude of figures posed in photos that curl with age. It becomes harder and more overlapping the closer to the middle you look, but you can quite clearly see the photos closer to your own head and at the edges of your vision. It varies— some photos seem dulled with time and hold big groups, others are much fresher and have no wear to them, holding a few people at a time. But they are all full of that same life you see here. Sat at tables, leaned against counters, singing karaoke— they all beam and burst with an experience you can only cling to from here. You try and make out the photos closer to the middle, managing to discern very little but catching much of the same. That, and a very worn photo stuck right in the middle of the pile. Another group cheerfully posed together, smiles all around. <<if hasVisited("gang meet- success")>>You… you recognize the face in the middle. Dark hair and soft eyes. Is that-<<else>>The man you can make out the most looks happy, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a light that you yearn for from here. You notice something else though, plastered onto the arm of his coat. Is that-<</if>> [[Next|fries]]

You have to ask, it’s like an elephant locked into the room staring you straight down. Leaving it be feels like a disservice, or at least a purposeful ignoring of your own questions. And by god you have too many questions. “Why do you… show those?” You ask. Reese darts his eyes to you. Oh you did //not// phrase that correctly. You try and catch yourself, quickly gesturing to his hands, which are still clawed, and his ears, which remain pointed and ever so slightly draconic. “I mean- why be constantly shifted? For you- I mean.” You don’t speak your thoughts. How much you stared at first. <<if $dragonpride is true>>How it almost //invigorates// you. It’s like a breath of fresh air. And here, in this bar? It feels like you’ve never breathed normally until now. And you need to know.<</if>><<if $dragonindifference is true>>How you can’t, even now, put into words how much it doesn’t sit right with you. How you unconsciously rub at your own arms and stare on longer than you want to. How can he be so comfortable with that?<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>How much it unsettles you. How you want to talk him down— even in a place surrounded by people who think much of the same. In here, it feels different. But you know he does not change when you walk outside. You know what he’s signing up for.<</if>> Reese looks at you for another moment. <<if $collar is true>>His eyes flick down to your neck and you resist the urge to block the device. But he doesn’t look angrier, just tired. Something flashes through his expression and his shoulders relax just enough for you to notice. “It just feels right, yknow?” He replies, flicking his eyes back up to meet yours. It’s a strange moment of vulnerability, one you didn’t expect from the man much less from such a provoking question. Your hand slowly lowers from how you unconsciously raised it as soon as it was mentioned. You guess you have an elephant or two of your own. “Feels like me.” Reese continues, turning back around to stare at the exit. His expression is just a little softer, but lined with glass shards. Ready. “So why wouldn’t I.” It’s not even a question for him. You stare at him a moment longer.<<else>>He lets out a scoff, nostrils flaring as a flash of smoke exits his nose. Your eyes widen again but he just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, murmuring something incomprehensible before he rests his chin on his hand. He doesn’t seem all too happy to share this conversation with you. You don’t know if you can blame him. “You make it sound like a weird thing.” He replies simply. He’s looking away from you, eyes pointed towards the door, and for once you’re really glad you don't have his attention back again. Did you phrase it like that? You didn’t think you said anything wrong. You sit back, suddenly grappling with it. You were just asking why— why did his non-answer leave such a shameful burn on your skin? You blink over to him again, watching him for another moment. He seems entirely content with this shape, slitted pupils watching the door like a hawk and clawed fingers idly tapping at his chin. Why does it feel like something that needs to be broken down and analyzed from you though? You need to sit on it.<</if>> [[Next|fries]]

Right. Now that you’ve gotten to a safer place, you’re sure you can start speaking about the delicates. May save you from a headache later on. You can’t really count on Atlas’s people skills. If you can even call it a skill at all. So you’ll get things started instead. For everyone's benefit. “Why does the Brimstone gang think //you// killed Camlann?” You ask, realizing far too late that your words were just a bit too loud. The rumble of noise from the bar itself hesitates, conversations paused or otherwise quieted, even the ambient music dropping lower. Ah. Not the place you guess. Reese glowers around at the company, locking eyes with Caroline still standing behind the bar countertop. She gives him a warning look, but he doesn’t seem to listen all that well. At least it’s not just you. “Keep it down. There’s no whistleblowers in here but they try to stay out of city business,” He explains, thawing a look at you. You raise a hand to placate him. “//Especially// Brimstone stuff.” “Why bring us here in the first place then?” You ask, trying to keep your voice down to a soft hiss. Reese turns away from you, now tapping a clawed finger on the table. “I… I couldn’t think of any safer place.” He replies, similarly muttering the answer beneath his breath. You sputter at him. Really? It’s both an idea that makes you want to put your head in your hands as much as it makes you want to stay similarly wary of the door. This is the safest place for him? Where you can barely get away with talking about these things? I’d almost be sad if it wasn’t such a poorly thought move. [[Next|fries]]

<<set $reeseromance =+1>>You can’t help it. You really wish you could. Under the warm lights of the bar though, it’s like he was scientifically crafted to look like a renaissance painting. His head now leaned against his hand, you watch waves of loose black hair, turned almost a glossy blue under the light, tumble in front of brilliant red-purple eyes. They’re very pretty eyes, you think. And they’d probably look better if they weren’t constantly glaring at one thing or another. You wonder. //What would they look like when he’s happy?// The eyes cut over to you and narrow, pupils slitting and focusing in on you. You repress a shiver. “What are you staring at? Got a problem or something?” He growls, one hand reaching down to grip at his shirt as he tugs at it at the center a few times. A nasty habit. [[“You’re real pretty, you know that?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“I-uh- sorry it’s nothing.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

“Order of fries for the table?” A voice interrupts your thoughts and your conversation. You look up to see Caroline, the woman from before, out from behind the counter. Her eyes quickly search between the two of you, and seemingly comes away satisfied with whatever answer she gets as she sets down the bowl filled with warm fries. You didn’t really have the luxury of being picky at a time like this, but looking at the fries alone makes your mouth water. They’re //bar fries// for Pete’s sake. Perfect for any occasion and perfect for a hungry person who has been in not one but two life-threatening situations in the past 24 hours. Simple fries sound like a godsend. Caroline notices and slides the bowl to you first. “Anything I should be worried about Reese?” She asks, seriousness suddenly tugging at her words as she addresses your companion. Reese looks up at her, stuck on his words for a second. You don’t think he can bring himself to snap at her though— instead snatching a fry from the bowl and avoiding eye contact entirely as he speaks. “It’s fine. Just a bad turn. Things will be back to normal and you can get back to your peace and quiet.” He replies gruffly, voice still quiet as if he had something to save. You know his words are a lie. Or at least a stretch of the truth. //You// don’t even know him. Don’t really owe him your concern. But you see the way Caroline winces. See the way she draws back and looks to the wall of photographs. When she looks back down at Reese, she is frowning. It’s a pretty sad frown. “Alright kid. You’re welcome here anytime, you know?” She murmurs. You wrestle a few fries towards yourself. This is a very private conversation, you know. But you belong here just as much as anyone else. Even if the scale of everything still evades you and answers elude you. Reese nods and Caroline walks back to her island, giving you a grateful look over her shoulder. Grateful for what? [[You start to tear into the fries before suddenly the room goes cold.|atlas bar enter]]

“You’re real pretty, you know that?” You say suddenly, leaning in ever so slightly. You raise an arm and sling it over the back of the chair, putting on your smoothest smile. You see the reaction almost instantly. The way his face lights up red, the steam you literally see wavering the space above his head, the shocked expression that crosses his face. He sputters for a moment, face flaming red as he tries to gather himself. You grin. For once, you can hear the cogs turning in //his// head. It’s a small victory, but you’ll take it. You meant it anyway. “Fuck off.” He hisses at you, quickly and violently turning away from you. You can still spy the blush on his face even as he scratches at it though. Your smile widens. Got him. [[Next|fries]]

“I-uh- sorry it’s nothing.” You reply, quickly turning away before he can spy the blush that works its way up to your cheeks. You can’t see his expression when you hear the quick intake of breath he makes, and you can’t see him when he fixes you with a confused stare. Shit shit shit. That’s… a complicated thing to unpack. And you certainly don’t plan on doing that here. So instead you try and laugh it off, plastering a forced smile onto your face and leaning back extra hard into the seat. Reese is looking at you like you’re insane. And you may as well be. You certainly feel like it. But you can’t outthink the butterflies in your stomach. Nor the way his attention feels— as embarrassing as it is. He says nothing and tries to blink the confusion away. [[Next|fries]]

<<if $species is "frostspitter">>You don’t notice the chill at first, it’s a familiar feeling, this cold. But you feel the breeze, and you notice the way your muscles clench ever so slightly. And you especially notice how on edge Reese becomes.<</if>> You notice the cold first. You notice the reactions second. The room becomes noticeably quieter as the door opens and a breeze enters, casting parts of the room in a deep blue shadow as the entrance remains ajar. The quiet music playing in the background grows quieter, and the patron’s voices dim along with the lights. It almost feels like a scene ripped straight out a western, outsider entering and all. Because who else could it be. Atlas takes in his surroundings with equal silence, with equal attention. He gets looks, glares, even curses shot his way but nobody steps up to him. Nobody moves. And you realize it then as he finally spots you and his hand turns human on the doorframe as it slides shut. That when you two walked together, no one was staring at you. They all stared at him. The dog of the Institute. He stands at the foot of the table with both hands in his pockets, long coat making his frame seem even taller— even more daunting from here. These people know him, and by god they do not like him. You can’t say you blame them. “Drake.” Reese says suddenly. You glance over to him, snapped out of your thoughts as you see the pure //hate// that crosses his expression. Atlas barely glances at him, instead looking back to you as if he couldn’t be bothered. “Le Fay. You’re confident about this?” He asks, raising a brow. Reese very obviously curls in anger but you choose to play along, nodding your head quietly. The tension here is far far worse than you had imagined. Atlas simply nods and slides into the booth beside you, opposite of Reese. The space itself lets out a breath as he does, and you can practically //feel// the walls lose their tension as the people begin to carry on with their night as usual. But you feel it still. The way the cold mixes with the warm. The way the very air feels more stifling and suffocating than ever before. And you must bear this weight, crossing your arms and clinging to yourself as you sit and wait for the next shoe to drop. [[“Alright. Where were you the night of the murder of Scott Camlann, Reese Zhu?”|bar convo start]]

The space between the two sets alight again, and this time you very consciously hold your breath. Reese narrows his eyes at Atlas and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and digging his claws into his own coat. But then a miracle happens. He smiles. It’s not a real one, you know that’s asking too much, but he smiles nevertheless, a cruel, twitching thing. You have half a mind to think it was just an excuse for him to bare his teeth at Atlas. “Coming on a bit strong aren’t we captain?” He chuckles darkly. Your eyes widen as you look back to Atlas, who looks //very// angry at the turn of events. It’s like watching a devastating game of tennis, where any hit could be the last and the ball itself is primed to explode. That feels like a very silly comparison. You lean back out of the crossfire regardless. You see Atlas’s eyes cut back down to Reese’s arms, more specifically his hands. Then drift upwards to his ears. A very clear look of disgust crosses his features. <<if hasVisited("Ask him about his dragon features.")>>Haven’t you been through this already? Knowing what he’s about to bring up next feels repetitive, and only serves to stress you further.<<else>>You can’t help the way you perk up. If what you’re thinking Atlas is going to bring up is true, you’re quite interested in the reaction as well. You’d prefer answers over antagonism, but getting a word in now feels like purposefully sticking your foot into the bear trap.<</if>> “Save it. Are you going to face me properly now? Stop putting on a show for the sake of aggression?” Atlas growls, voice lower than usual. He has his eyes similarly narrowed now. “It’s not-“ Reese bites his tongue as his voice involuntarily raises. That hit a sore spot. At least he no longer has his arms crossed. “It’s not for you, //bastard//.” He hisses, quietly and reluctantly shifting back his hands. You startle a bit. With the red scales that previously covered his hands, you didn’t notice how much blood there was on them. It seems Reese didn’t notice either, staring at them for a moment before slinking them under his armpits and leaning back stiffly. “Name calling, huh? Very professional Zhu.” Atlas has already moved on, biting at yet another character flaw as he continues. Reese stares daggers into him and you want to be anywhere but here. <<if $collar is true>><<if $weapon is false>>You pause for a second, in the midst of it all, remembering something with a start. Your hand again drifts up to the device around your throat and you know that now is going to be the best time you get to confront the matter. Even as the two lash and jeer at each other from across the table. “Drake.” You say, splitting through the noise to catch his attention. He glances at you but does not move himself from his position. You sigh. “This //thing// around my neck? You said it would dampen me from shifting. Not //shock// me.” Atlas, on his part, rightfully looks a little ashamed of this, leaning back just enough and not meeting your eyes. He frowns and sniffs once. “It was precautionary. I didn’t want you harming yourself trying to push yourself.” He grumbles, dragging a handover his mouth as if he could stifle the half-apology. “The device isn’t meant as a permanent thing.” Reese actively scoffs at this, shaking his head. It’s his turn to lean forwards. “No no go ahead- say what it really is Drake. It’s a collar. You’re holding the leash, aren’t you?” He scraps back. Atlas gives him a glare but does not respond right away. You can’t help but feel a shred of relief that someones on your side for this. Makes you feel a little less insane. Atlas shuffles a hand into his pocket and clicks something. With a sudden soft beep, you feel the device loosening around your throat until it clicks and drops entirely from your neck. You don’t even bother to catch it, both hands instantly returning to your neck to massage the irritated skin. Oh it feels //amazing// to be free of that finally. Regardless of it’s effectiveness. “I can’t have that off of you forever. It’ll be back eventually but know this-“ Your partner stares Reese dead in the eyes with his next words. “Next time, I won’t be holding the leash.” Reese sits back, satisfied with the turn of events but still looking as grave as ever.<</if>><</if>><<if $collar is true>><<if $weapon is true>>“Yeah? And the collar? Is that professional?” Reese suddenly asks. You start suddenly, hand reaching up to hover over the device still slung around your throat. Did he call it a //collar?// Atlas flinches. A give. “Isn’t it Institute technology? It stops me from transforming but…” You trail off, uncertain of how to continue. Is there something you’re missing here? <<if $dragonfear is true>>It’s been rather a relief to not have to worry about your draconic form rearing its ugly head around you. The implications of the device are very clear but that doesn’t make you any less comfortable to shed it.<</if>><<if $dragonpride>>You stiffen a bit. The idea of being released from this thing makes your stomach flutter. Could you really push for this? Make it go away? Forever if you can?<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You frown but don’t add to his words. You want the device off, sure, but maybe… maybe it’s better this way? You can’t be targeted like this. You can’t be known as something you can’t help. The complicated thoughts make you shift uncomfortably.<</if>> Reese glances over to you, seemingly a bit surprised before his eyes hardens and he glares back at Atlas. Atlas, for his part, at least has the decency to look ashamed. “Le Fay listen… the device is a precautionary thing. It’s not meant to //stop// you from shifting per say..” He trails off as well, twirling his head as he tries to find the next words. Reese finds them for him. “It shocks you. Hurts you so you are stunned out of shifting. Like a dog collar.” He finishes, looking absolutely infuriated. Your eyes wide. Atlas lied then. It’s that simple. Your stomach drops slightly. You could’ve shifted at any point? The table is silent again for another moment and you have to resist the urge to squirm. “Fine. I’ll do what I can for now but this //will// return. It’ll be back eventually but know this-“ Your partner stares Reese dead in the eyes with his next words. “Next time, I won’t be holding the leash.” Atlas shuffles a hand into his pocket and clicks something. With a sudden soft beep, you feel the device loosening around your throat until it clicks and drops entirely from your neck. You don’t even bother to catch it, both hands instantly returning to your neck to massage the irritated skin. Oh it feels //amazing// to be free of that. Regardless of it’s effectiveness. Reese sits back, satisfied with the turn of events but still looking as grave as ever.<</if>><</if>> [[You take a bite of the fries.]]

“Are we done with the…” Atlas clears his throat and tics his neck to the side. “Pleasantries now?” Reese shoots you a look. This time it’s not an angry or accusing one though, instead more of a lazy ‘you see this too right’ stare that you have to stifle a laugh at. You hate being on the receiving end of this, but as long as you aren’t the target of this particular attack, you can’t help but relax slightly into your chair. “Fine. Yeah- whatever.” He replies with a stiff nod. Rather abruptly, he takes a deep breath, stilling himself as you feel the silence between the table grow feverish. You settle your features and find yourself taking the same deep breath, as if you were about to plunge straight into the depths. It feels like it too once Reese begins speaking. “I was out with him that night. We were… well it doesn’t really matter what we were doing now, does it?” He starts, tone almost startling how serious it is. You listen intently. “He and I were just shooting the shit, it didn’t matter. I… I got distracted and well…” He sits back, wrapping his arms around himself again and looking away from the two of you. This is difficult. “I was gone for //five minutes//, Drake. //Five minutes// and when I got back he was…” His voice is barely a whisper now, and you can //hear// how his heart breaks with the memory. Fuck. This was a week and two days ago. You didn’t even think about how recent everything was. And he was with him? It’s impossible to know what to say, so you don’t even try. “Is that all?” You snap up as Atlas speaks. His response is cruel, short. And empty. So very empty. “Is that //all//?” Reese repeats the question. You can feel him readying something worse. Something so much worse. “Wait- wait hold on you guys-“ You start, fear making you kickstart your attempt to appease the two and break in the peace. But you don’t make it another word as Reese bolts upwards to stand, hands clenched into tight fists at his side. The blood shines in your periphery. “Yeah it’s //all!// That’s //everything!// He was-“ The words he says are shouted and they are shouted loud. A few conversations in the bar go quiet and you can clearly make out how Reese’s voice chokes on his last words. What was he going to say before he stopped himself? Atlas stares up at him from his seat, silently unimpressed. What did he expect? This to be calm the moment he started speaking? He stands too, but much slower and much more measured. From this position he’s //towering// over Reese, and a chill runs down your back as he flicks his eyes over to you. “We’re done here.” He says simply before turning and walking straight for the exit. You choke. Wait wait wait. Shit you had no time you didn’t even get a word in how are you supposed to-“ [[“His body was cold.”]]

It feels like all the air in the room— cold or not, is sucked out of the room. You’re unaware if other patrons are listening, your focus entirely on the way Reese turned, the way his voice was firm with the words. Your focus is on the buzzing in your ears. Atlas has stopped entirely, turning very slowly as if doing so takes all of him and more. There is quiet where none of you speak, waiting for… well hell you’re not even sure what you’re waiting for. Thankfully, you don’t have to wait long. “I was gone for five minutes and he was dead and his body was cold.” Reese repeats, narrowed eyes still on your partner. You, from here, can see how hard he’s breathing. “I barely heard a scuffle Atlas- tell me how //that// makes any goddamn sense.” Atlas, now fully turned around, looks visibly taken off guard. You watch him mull over the words and untangle the meanings in his mind in seconds, but doesn’t speak any of it out loud. Instead, he checks back to the two of you, hesitates a moment, then walks back to the booth and sits back down smoothly, as if he had never left. Reese sits too. You swallow. “That doesn’t make any sense. It takes twelve hours for a body to become cold to the touch, even more to lose heat entirely.” He starts explaining. Reese asks. “You think I don’t know that? It takes even longer for a Firespitter.” He lifts a hand up in exasperation. “He was shifted too- they… whatever got him tore out his throat.” You freeze up. Holy shit. Even without getting into extreme detail this type of talk has you on edge. Tore… tore his throat out? You stuff your hands in your pockets in order to stop them from shaking. You don’t even want to try and imagine it— your imagination is far too active. “Yes. Minimal scarring anywhere else too.” Atlas nods, hand to his mouth as he silently nods to himself. Reese shoots him a look, less shaken now. “How would you know that?” He growls. It’s a low, deep sound that almost whispers out of his teeth. With how obvious it is though, you wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear it even with his lips sealed shut. Despite both of you now on edge, Atlas is quick to dismiss the suspicion with a wave of his hand. “The Institute has the body for the investigation. We’ve been running forensics with the local police department regarding the case. It’s protocol.” He explains with a huff, looking rather annoyed to be accused so suddenly. Reese, however, doesn’t still, instead recoiling in shock. You’ve never seen this expression on him before. So far it’s been accompanied by a roll of anger, but this one seems… a bit more taken aback. “They haven’t- Rose hasn’t gotten to…?” As if realizing his company, he quiets down quickly, putting a hand to his mouth as well as he seemingly deals with this information. You look between the two. You haven’t been given the platform to speak once during this interaction, and it’s both frustrating and incredibly freeing not having to be relied on for this. You don’t even know if it's your place to speak. But you have to try somehow. [[“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Holy shit man- yikes.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[Maybe it's for the best if you don't jump in now, actually.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $reesesrelationship to Math.clamp($reeserelationshippos -=10)>>“Holy shit man- yikes.” You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, a shaky, weightless thing that feels flimsy in your mouth. Reese hears it and you regret it, as he fixes you with a look that runs you cold. There’s no fighting spirit behind it— just deep cynicism. And that hurts much more than being yelled at. You frown and curl in slightly, looking between the two. It’s quiet. “I need to report this to my higher-ups before we start throwing around aimless theories and scenarios.” Atlas sighs, closing his eyes as he props himself up to think. Reese lets out an audible breath too, leaning back against the chair. You’re just glad not to have to be crushed between their fighting again. But you can’t think on an empty stomach. You begin taking some more bites out of the fries. They’ve cooled considerably since they’ve arrived, but still are just as good. You think this place could easily be heaven if you arrived as hungry as you were every time. “Don’t go spouting my name around Drake,” Reese starts, digging his hands into the fries after you. The grease smears his rings. “I’ve already got the Brimstone gang after me, I don’t need to give the jackoffs at the Institute more reasons to bust my ass.” Atlas opens his mouth to respond, likely to spout off more Institute rhetoric, but instead catches sight of the dark stains on his clothes and hands. Then quietly, he looks to you. His eyes widen slightly. Oh. //Now// he notices. “What happened?” He asks, voice almost a whisper as he glances between you two. You and Reese share a look as the dark-haired man only rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I told you- the gang is after me, your friend here just got a little involved.” He looks you over, as if assessing the severity. <<if $wound is true>>“Well, it could’ve gone better I guess. Not used to fighting in urban areas yet huh?”<<else>>“Honestly, all things considered, it could’ve been much worse. Pretty good for someone who’s not used to fighting in urban areas.”<</if>> “I shouldn’t have to learn at all.” You choke, grimacing as you draw back. You feel better now that you’ve had time to set yourself, but the exhaustion has long since set in, and you’re beginning to wonder if you could just fall asleep at this table. Reese doesn’t seem to care about your response but Atlas visibly shifts in his seat. “Don’t wander on your own and you shouldn’t have issues with them again. Do I really have to stick by your side //always?//“ He laughs out of disbelief without a hint of a smile. “Unbelievable.” <<if $nervous < 50>>“Seriously?” You mutter, hand finding a bruise along your shoulder as you rub along it unconsciously. “I wasn’t //trying// to get caught in that mess. I don’t want to be doing this in the first place.” The frustration burns along your cheeks. You remember why you left on such a sour note with him before. Was that supposed to be comforting? Atlas, unsurprisingly, ignores you.<</if>><<if $nervous > 50>>You take it and say nothing. As always. You stare a hole into the table below you, digging a fingernail into the wood as you clamp your mouth shut. //Don’t even want to be doing this in the first place.// The frustration burns along your cheeks. You remember why you left on such a sour note with him before. Was that supposed to be comforting?<</if>> “You mentioned the Brimstone gang is after you. I talked to Hamilton today, and she shouldn’t bother Le Fay anymore after today, perhaps for your continued participation I could extend the same protections for you?” Atlas asks, a rare moment of generosity phrased like a business proposal as he splays a palm. Reese doesn’t look all too happy, but he seems too tired to argue at the levels he was earlier. That saves you a lot of pain. “After they saw me over Scott’s body? I doubt you can do anything Drake, they’re loyal to their people.” He fixes Atlas with a look. “Kind of like you, right?” There’s another moment of silence where the two stare each other down and you stiffen. You must’ve spoken too soon. Reese was over his body when they found him? That’d be hard to prove innocence— especially with a group that passionate. You start warily eyeing the exits again before Reese speaks again, letting the tension drop. “I’ll consider it. But only for Scott. We find the killer and I’m out. I’m not working with you to take down innocent people.” He responds, voice now hard and bitter as much as it is tired. It seems like the fight is drained out of Atlas too, as he only glares in response but does not follow through, instead standing once more. You let out a breath that you’d been holding onto for too long. “Fine. We’ll start tomorrow. Le Fay-“ He looks to you and nods rigidly. “I’ll contact you and take you to our research facility in the morning, we can start by looking into the device we found today. I have a friend there who has helped with the forensics work, they will be a good resource to rely on.” “Oh a //friend// now that’s surprising-“ Reese begins to chuckle. “Zhu you should come along to confirm injuries and timing, I’ll meet you there with Le Fay separately. I trust you two to communicate the details.” Atlas is quick to cut Reese’s attempts at jabs off with his plans, waiting not another moment before he gives the two of you a stiff nod and walks away, back towards the exit he took. You sigh. Well shit. There goes any chance of talking it out. You frown. “Is he always like that?” Reese asks, looking back at you as he grabs another fistful of fries and stares holes into the back of the man as he leaves. The space in the bar gradually returns to its more calming presence, you notice. Were things really that tense that the whole bar held its breath? Or were things just so suffocating that it was hard to notice anything outside of it? [[“Yeah I know. I think he was cursed never to have fun or something.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“I’m gonna head home.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reesesrelationshippos +=10)>>“I’m sorry you had to see that.” You murmur, voice a lot softer than you anticipated. Still— he does hear it, glancing up and over to you with a distraught look in his eyes. You catch him lowering his hand just slightly and parting his mouth to say something before he closes it and returns to his pose. You do catch the grateful, if quiet nod that is sent in your direction though. You let out a long breath. It feels like a weight off of your chest, no matter how briefly. “I need to report this to my higher-ups before we start throwing around aimless theories and scenarios.” Atlas sighs, closing his eyes as he props himself up to think. Reese lets out an audible breath too, leaning back against the chair. You’re just glad not to have to be crushed between their fighting again. But you can’t think on an empty stomach. You begin taking some more bites out of the fries. They’ve cooled considerably since they’ve arrived, but still are just as good. You think this place could easily be heaven if you arrived as hungry as you were every time. “Don’t go spouting my name around Drake,” Reese starts, digging his hands into the fries after you. The grease smears his rings. “I’ve already got the Brimstone gang after me, I don’t need to give the jackoffs at the Institute more reasons to bust my ass.” Atlas opens his mouth to respond, likely to spout off more Institute rhetoric, but instead catches sight of the dark stains on his clothes and hands. Then quietly, he looks to you. His eyes widen slightly. Oh. //Now// he notices. “What happened?” He asks, voice almost a whisper as he glances between you two. You and Reese share a look as the dark-haired man only rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I told you- the gang is after me, your friend here just got a little involved.” He looks you over, as if assessing the severity. <<if $wound is true>>“Well, it could’ve gone better I guess. Not used to fighting in urban areas yet huh?”<<else>>“Honestly, all things considered, it could’ve been much worse. Pretty good for someone who’s not used to fighting in urban areas.”<</if>> “I shouldn’t have to learn at all.” You choke, grimacing as you draw back. You feel better now that you’ve had time to set yourself, but the exhaustion has long since set in, and you’re beginning to wonder if you could just fall asleep at this table. Reese doesn’t seem to care about your response but Atlas visibly shifts in his seat. “Don’t wander on your own and you shouldn’t have issues with them again. Do I really have to stick by your side //always?//“ He laughs out of disbelief without a hint of a smile. “Unbelievable.” <<if $nervous < 50>>“Seriously?” You mutter, hand finding a bruise along your shoulder as you rub along it unconsciously. “I wasn’t //trying// to get caught in that mess. I don’t want to be doing this in the first place.” The frustration burns along your cheeks. You remember why you left on such a sour note with him before. Was that supposed to be comforting? Atlas, unsurprisingly, ignores you.<</if>><<if $nervous > 50>>You take it and say nothing. As always. You stare a hole into the table below you, digging a fingernail into the wood as you clamp your mouth shut. //Don’t even want to be doing this in the first place.// The frustration burns along your cheeks. You remember why you left on such a sour note with him before. Was that supposed to be comforting?<</if>> “You mentioned the Brimstone gang is after you. I talked to Hamilton today, and she shouldn’t bother Le Fay anymore after today, perhaps for your continued participation I could extend the same protections for you?” Atlas asks, a rare moment of generosity phrased like a business proposal as he splays a palm. Reese doesn’t look all too happy, but he seems too tired to argue at the levels he was earlier. That saves you a lot of pain. “After they saw me over Scott’s body? I doubt you can do anything Drake, they’re loyal to their people.” He fixes Atlas with a look. “Kind of like you, right?” There’s another moment of silence where the two stare each other down and you stiffen. You must’ve spoken too soon. Reese was over his body when they found him? That’d be hard to prove innocence— especially with a group that passionate. You start warily eyeing the exits again before Reese speaks again, letting the tension drop. “I’ll consider it. But only for Scott. We find the killer and I’m out. I’m not working with you to take down innocent people.” He responds, voice now hard and bitter as much as it is tired. It seems like the fight is drained out of Atlas too, as he only glares in response but does not follow through, instead standing once more. You let out a breath that you’d been holding onto for too long. “Fine. We’ll start tomorrow. Le Fay-“ He looks to you and nods rigidly. “I’ll contact you and take you to our research facility in the morning, we can start by looking into the device we found today. I have a friend there who has helped with the forensics work, they will be a good resource to rely on.” “Oh a //friend// now that’s surprising-“ Reese begins to chuckle. “Zhu you should come along to confirm injuries and timing, I’ll meet you there with Le Fay separately. I trust you two to communicate the details.” Atlas is quick to cut Reese’s attempts at jabs off with his plans, waiting not another moment before he gives the two of you a stiff nod and walks away, back towards the exit he took. You sigh. Well shit. There goes any chance of talking it out. You frown. “Is he always like that?” Reese asks, looking back at you as he grabs another fistful of fries and stares holes into the back of the man as he leaves. The space in the bar gradually returns to its more calming presence, you notice. Were things really that tense that the whole bar held its breath? Or were things just so suffocating that it was hard to notice anything outside of it? [[“Yeah I know. I think he was cursed never to have fun or something.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“I’m gonna head home.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]]

“Yeah I know. I think he was cursed never to have fun or something.” You laugh back. It feels hollow against the back of your spine but you persist, splitting into a smirk. Reese, for his part, chuckles in return, a smile that slowly lowers crossing his face before it’s gone. You stare at the fries. There’s not much left. The dark-haired man noticed in turn, giving you a look and shrugging his shoulders. “Ya’ can take the rest. You better get out of here before it gets too late.” He reminds you, another smirk slowly sliding onto his face. “Don’t wanna get caught up in //yet another// gang war.” You chuckle and shake your head. Holy shit. If you think any further on that you think you may implode. You give him a nod and let out a sigh, getting to your feet with a slight wince at the ache. Pulling out from around the booth, you make your way over to the bar, already stuffing a hand in your pocket to make for your wallet. Before you can though, Caroline, who turns from attending another customer to you, catches you, raising a hand. “Hey- no worries dear it’s on the house. You look like hell, get home safe.” She affirms, giving you a slight raise of her head. You stop. Really? That feels awfully kind for a stranger— won’t other people in the bar get antsy? She doesn’t change her mind though, just offering you a kind and slightly worried smile. Oh. Okay. You swallow and nod at her, thanking her quietly before you move to the exit. Reese is already there with the door propped open, peering out as you leave the comfort of the room. You look to him and follow his gaze upwards, up into the sky which is nearly entirely shrouded in clouds. You can make out the flashing red lights of the skyscrapers above, clouded in the haze of the night sky. It has to be a stunning view from up there. “You leaving too?” You ask Reese. He’s quick to shake his head, stuffing an unlit cigarette into his mouth as he does. “Nah. I think I’ll stay behind for a bit longer.” He replies simply, pulling curled hands up to the butt of the thing before you catch sight of the tiniest spark light from between his fingers. No lighter necessary. You can’t say you’re surprised. “Looks like it’s going to rain.” You notice it then— as you stand shoulder to shoulder with him. It was harder to notice before, among all the discord of the earlier moments, but even as he slouches over, you notice it almost right away. He’s shorter. Not by too much but— yes he’s definitely shorter than when you first met him. You recognize it with a start. When he shifted his features back, it must’ve meant //all// of them. Legs included. You audibly stifle your laugh. Reese whips his head around to glare at you. “What’s that about?” [[“Sorry sorry- it’s nothing. I’ll see you later, yeah?”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Did you really make yourself taller on purpose?”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]]

“Mhm.” You murmur back. You’re not… really up to another conversation right now, regardless of how true it may be. All of the issues swarm your head like a beehive, and you’re not quite sure you can keep this composure for long. Reese seems to notice. You look over as the basket of fries is slowly being pushed towards you, glancing up to receive a nod from Reese. He looks the calmest you’ve ever seen him. Doesn’t detract from the stiffness you catch in his shoulders. Hell— it’s in yours too. “Here. Take the rest. You should probably head back to…” He starts, looking you over for a second. “Wherever the hell you gotta go.” Huh. Yeah. You hope you can. You give him a nod and let out a sigh, getting to your feet with a slight wince at the ache. Pulling out from around the booth, you make your way over to the bar, already stuffing a hand in your pocket to make for your wallet. Before you can though, Caroline, who turns from attending another customer to you, catches you, raising a hand. “Hey- no worries dear it’s on the house. You look like hell, get home safe.” She affirms, giving you a slight raise of her head. You stop. Really? That feels awfully kind for a stranger— won’t other people in the bar get antsy? She doesn’t change her mind though, just offering you a kind and slightly worried smile. Oh. Okay. You swallow and nod at her, thanking her quietly before you move to the exit. Reese is already there with the door propped open, peering out as you leave the comfort of the room. You look to him and follow his gaze upwards, up into the sky which is nearly entirely shrouded in clouds. You can make out the flashing red lights of the skyscrapers above, clouded in the haze of the night sky. It has to be a stunning view from up there. “You leaving too?” You ask Reese. He’s quick to shake his head, stuffing an unlit cigarette into his mouth as he does. “Nah. I think I’ll stay behind for a bit longer.” He replies simply, pulling curled hands up to the butt of the thing before you catch sight of the tiniest spark light from between his fingers. No lighter necessary. You can’t say you’re surprised. “Looks like it’s going to rain.” You notice it then— as you stand shoulder to shoulder with him. It was harder to notice before, among all the discord of the earlier moments, but even as he slouches over, you notice it almost right away. He’s shorter. Not by too much but— yes he’s definitely shorter than when you first met him. You recognize it with a start. When he shifted his features back, it must’ve meant //all// of them. Legs included. You audibly stifle your laugh. Reese whips his head around to glare at you. “What’s that about?” [[“Sorry sorry- it’s nothing. I’ll see you later, yeah?”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Did you really make yourself taller on purpose?”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]]

“Sorry sorry- it’s nothing. I’ll see you later, yeah?” You try evading the question altogether, stepping out from under the short overhang the bar squat bar roof provides. Reese stares at you a moment longer, unconvinced, before he rolls his eyes and sucks smoke and nicotine through his teeth. “You’re weird $name.” He replies with a puff, watching you go as you wave behind yourself and pull up your directions once again. Before you can leave completely, you feel a slight prod at your back, and turn to see Reese holding a folded piece of paper up to you, lifting his eyebrows and the paper again a bit before you catch the hint and take it from him. You unfold it to take a quick peek, spotting a number scribbled inside with a crappy pen that did more to carve the numbers into the paper than it did write it down. But you notice the same area code as Atlas. You’ll plug it into your phone later. With a grateful nod, you turn away and down the street. Checking through your phone, you pull back up your way home and start heading there right away. //A direct course to the nearest bed.// You think. //And thank everything mighty- it’s close.// The trip back is much shorter, if less eventful from your previous run-ins. You can’t say you’re complaining though. In fact, despite the exhaustion clinging to you like wet clothes and the various headache-inducing questions racing through your head, you can’t help but raise your head and walk slowly as you breathe in the crisp night air. No rain. It feels just a little lighter— the best break you’re going to get away from it all. It’s the lack of the reminder, you note with a start. The device no longer slung tightly around your neck like a leech, no longer stopping your heaviest of breaths, your heaviest of endeavors. You are free. From what, you’re not entirely sure. But free nevertheless. For what little time you have from it all, walking down the lonely streets of the city— hell, you’ll take anything. <<if $dragonfear is true>>Even if the implications scare the shit out of you.<</if>> The calm night is a surveyor of your walk as you keep to the cracked sidewalks, sidestepping the few passing folk and ever so often spying groups of activity bustling far from you. An apartment you pass by flashes with color, loud music vibrating the very floor concrete you from the bottom floor. You pass by undisturbed. A few more blocks of walking and right before you swear your legs could turn to jelly you peek down at your phone, catching yourself before you pass by your destination entirely. The apartment building must have been poorly planned, as it stands asymmetrically between other buildings similar, one too many rooms protruding from the front and the roof standing awkwardly as one apartment perks out from the roof, as if it was added on as an afterthought. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head. Not too bad, all things considered. The walls are standing after all. You take one last deep breath of the cool night air and head inside. [[Next|apartment enter]]

“Did you really make yourself taller on purpose?” You ask, sides already hurting from the laughter you try and hold in. Reese’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head, not saying anything at first. Not denying it. “Oh you totally-“ “Shaddup’ $name. Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Go annoy someone else.” He grunts, shoving at your shoulder. You laugh at that and throw him a quick wave as you step out into the night. If everything else goes wrong— at least you have blackmail. Before you can leave completely, you feel a slight prod at your back, and turn to see Reese holding a folded piece of paper up to you, lifting his eyebrows and the paper again a bit before you catch the hint and take it from him. You unfold it to take a quick peek, spotting a number scribbled inside with a crappy pen that did more to carve the numbers into the paper than it did write it down. But you notice the same area code as Atlas. You’ll plug it into your phone later. With a grateful nod, you turn away and down the street. Checking through your phone, you pull back up your way home and start heading there right away. //A direct course to the nearest bed.// You think. //And thank everything mighty- it’s close.// The trip back is much shorter, if less eventful from your previous run-ins. You can’t say you’re complaining though. In fact, despite the exhaustion clinging to you like wet clothes and the various headache-inducing questions racing through your head, you can’t help but raise your head and walk slowly as you breathe in the crisp night air. No rain. It feels just a little lighter— the best break you’re going to get away from it all. It’s the lack of the reminder, you note with a start. The device no longer slung tightly around your neck like a leech, no longer stopping your heaviest of breaths, your heaviest of endeavors. You are free. From what, you’re not entirely sure. But free nevertheless. For what little time you have from it all, walking down the lonely streets of the city— hell, you’ll take anything. <<if $dragonfear is true>>Even if the implications scare the shit out of you.<</if>> The calm night is a surveyor of your walk as you keep to the cracked sidewalks, sidestepping the few passing folk and ever so often spying groups of activity bustling far from you. An apartment you pass by flashes with color, loud music vibrating the very floor concrete you from the bottom floor. You pass by undisturbed. A few more blocks of walking and right before you swear your legs could turn to jelly you peek down at your phone, catching yourself before you pass by your destination entirely. The apartment building must have been poorly planned, as it stands asymmetrically between other buildings similar, one too many rooms protruding from the front and the roof standing awkwardly as one apartment perks out from the roof, as if it was added on as an afterthought. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head. Not too bad, all things considered. The walls are standing after all. You take one last deep breath of the cool night air and head inside. [[Next|apartment enter]]

The front lobby is a bit cramped, a desk sitting abandoned to the left side of the hall and to the right, a set of metal mailboxes placed next to a set of large steps which wind upwards. The steps seem off— made out of an old wood that could, in any other setting, be seen as antique but here, just look cheap. At least it adds some character. You walk over to them, one hand on the railing as you stare up the middle into the staircase above. It winds and wraps around itself, a small sliver in the middle your only view at the sight that tells you that this building is much shorter than it really looks. You’ll take it. You just hope the bed is comfortable. As you begin your ascent, you have another moment of brevity where you let your thoughts tumble aimlessly. You expect to be able to ask Atlas for groceries. You kind of doubt that they’d want an officer out in the field starving. You barely had enough to make it here— let alone cover the costs of unpaid living. //Officer.// The title sticks to you like flypaper, and you hate the residue it leaves behind. You didn’t ask for this, it hardly seems fair. And yet here you are, returning to your Institute-assigned quarters to wait until your Institute-assigned job comes knocking. You grimace. What was that saying again? Death comes knocking? You stop with a start, blinking down at your key and the wall in front of you. No more steps. Taking another look down the stairs you realize you’re at the very top, right at the doorstep of the awkwardly placed ‘highest room’ you had seen from outside. You look at the door. 251. Same number as your keys. You sigh at the uneven number. It really was added on then. You wonder how recently. With only a bit of a struggle, you slide the keys into place and open the door with a click and a //humph// as you subsequently have to shoulder the thing open. //Room wasn’t put up that recently then.// You muse. Inside, the space is more open than you thought. There’s only three rooms. A bathroom to the far right, a bedroom to the far left, and the room you’re standing in, which has an open and very tight kitchen right in around the bathroom. At least you aren’t expecting guests. You stare longingly at the couch placed in front of a wide TV, unable to make out the exact details of everything in the darkness, but too tired to put any effort into turning them on and looking around. You can barely //barely// make out some curtains covering a long window directly in front of you, but instead avoid investigating you turn straight towards the bedroom without another moments hesitation. The mess can hit you tomorrow. You weren’t given a specific time to wake up so you’ll do the work that needs to be done when you can— is it so much to ask for a little rest anyways? You frown as you enter the bedroom and close the door behind you, thoughts lingering on that wording. It is too much to ask for a decent night’s rest these days. A little too much. A cup overflowing, and you have to try and not make a mess. The bed, at least, looks comfortable enough, wide and yawning before you as if to engulf you and take away your wishes and worries. It has never looked so tantalizing. You’ll worry about the gangs tomorrow. You’ll fear and fret your companions and what you cannot control when day breaks. But for now— all you can hope is your dreams are blissfully silent. You collapse onto the bed, not even bothering to pull the blanket over yourself as your head immediately sinks into the pillow. <<if $disability is "hoh">>It takes every part of you to even reach for your hearing aid, much less take it off in time to sling it towards the bedside table.<</if>> Just one night. That’s all you ask. One night of quiet, of peace, of meaningless nothingness as you drift off to sleep. [[But starlight. You and I both know that’s not possible.|chapter one end]]

<center>[[So it shall be.|chapter2 splash]]</center>

Looking at this statue, displayed in all its glory right in front of the Institute, you can only feel small under its size. <<if $dragonpride is true>>It infuriates you to no end, how they think they can get away with this. You clench your fist and have to take a breath to steady yourself the more you stare at it. It makes you angry. <<if $kind < 50>>You want to break it. You want to smash everything it holds and more. Kick and bite and scream and //roar//. By god do you want to roar.<</if>> But as you stand there, gazing up into the emotionless eyes of the knight posed above you, all your frustration fades. No. Sizzles. Fading would imply that you can’t feel it any longer, but as the rage sizzles from your veins, it snaps at you and leaves you with a coldness you cannot describe.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>You swallow. This is how you are seen by these people. Maybe more. Likely more. And gazing down at the amalgamation of a dragon closest to your face, you can’t help but understand that fear all at once. Though it is downed, the creature’s claws still grasp tightly at the pedestal, wicked, curved things you know could slice open a person in seconds. The tail is similarly near, a sharped barb near the tip similar to a Frostspitter’s own sharp tip. How quick those can be, slicing into enemies from so far away. A creature born for violence. You feel sick and take a step back.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You have to stop to take a breath. Maybe two. It’s not like you to get too wrapped up in a perception of you, much less one that is not even directly saying something to you, yet this feels worse. Like every finger is pointed to you, standing there at its feet, and accusing you of something. Watching you for something. Some tell, some wicked way you’d show your true nature. The thread of inaction is taught, and by god does it await to snap. You think your ears are ringing. You can’t be sure.<</if>> [[“Le Fay?”|wrapup section]]

Maybe it's for the best if you don't jump in now, actually. You close your mouth before you can open it, frowning to yourself as you move back. You’re not even sure if any words would help, much less settle the conversation at all. The silence is longer this go-around, but at least it’s not tense. You take a deep breath. “I need to report this to my higher-ups before we start throwing around aimless theories and scenarios.” Atlas sighs, closing his eyes as he props himself up to think. Reese lets out an audible breath too, leaning back against the chair. You’re just glad not to have to be crushed between their fighting again. But you can’t think on an empty stomach. You begin taking some more bites out of the fries. They’ve cooled considerably since they’ve arrived, but still are just as good. You think this place could easily be heaven if you arrived as hungry as you were every time. “Don’t go spouting my name around Drake,” Reese starts, digging his hands into the fries after you. The grease smears his rings. “I’ve already got the Brimstone gang after me, I don’t need to give the jackoffs at the Institute more reasons to bust my ass.” Atlas opens his mouth to respond, likely to spout off more Institute rhetoric, but instead catches sight of the dark stains on his clothes and hands. Then quietly, he looks to you. His eyes widen slightly. Oh. //Now// he notices. “What happened?” He asks, voice almost a whisper as he glances between you two. You and Reese share a look as the dark-haired man only rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I told you- the gang is after me, your friend here just got a little involved.” He looks you over, as if assessing the severity. <<if $wound is true>>“Well, it could’ve gone better I guess. Not used to fighting in urban areas yet huh?”<<else>>“Honestly, all things considered, it could’ve been much worse. Pretty good for someone who’s not used to fighting in urban areas.”<</if>> “I shouldn’t have to learn at all.” You choke, grimacing as you draw back. You feel better now that you’ve had time to set yourself, but the exhaustion has long since set in, and you’re beginning to wonder if you could just fall asleep at this table. Reese doesn’t seem to care about your response but Atlas visibly shifts in his seat. “Don’t wander on your own and you shouldn’t have issues with them again. Do I really have to stick by your side //always?//“ He laughs out of disbelief without a hint of a smile. “Unbelievable.” <<if $nervous < 50>>“Seriously?” You mutter, hand finding a bruise along your shoulder as you rub along it unconsciously. “I wasn’t //trying// to get caught in that mess. I don’t want to be doing this in the first place.” The frustration burns along your cheeks. You remember why you left on such a sour note with him before. Was that supposed to be comforting? Atlas, unsurprisingly, ignores you.<</if>><<if $nervous > 50>>You take it and say nothing. As always. You stare a hole into the table below you, digging a fingernail into the wood as you clamp your mouth shut. //Don’t even want to be doing this in the first place.// The frustration burns along your cheeks. You remember why you left on such a sour note with him before. Was that supposed to be comforting?<</if>> “You mentioned the Brimstone gang is after you. I talked to Hamilton today, and she shouldn’t bother Le Fay anymore after today, perhaps for your continued participation I could extend the same protections for you?” Atlas asks, a rare moment of generosity phrased like a business proposal as he splays a palm. Reese doesn’t look all too happy, but he seems too tired to argue at the levels he was earlier. That saves you a lot of pain. “After they saw me over Scott’s body? I doubt you can do anything Drake, they’re loyal to their people.” He fixes Atlas with a look. “Kind of like you, right?” There’s another moment of silence where the two stare each other down and you stiffen. You must’ve spoken too soon. Reese was over his body when they found him? That’d be hard to prove innocence— especially with a group that passionate. You start warily eyeing the exits again before Reese speaks again, letting the tension drop. “I’ll consider it. But only for Scott. We find the killer and I’m out. I’m not working with you to take down innocent people.” He responds, voice now hard and bitter as much as it is tired. It seems like the fight is drained out of Atlas too, as he only glares in response but does not follow through, instead standing once more. You let out a breath that you’d been holding onto for too long. “Fine. We’ll start tomorrow. Le Fay-“ He looks to you and nods rigidly. “I’ll contact you and take you to our research facility in the morning, we can start by looking into the device we found today. I have a friend there who has helped with the forensics work, they will be a good resource to rely on.” “Oh a //friend// now that’s surprising-“ Reese begins to chuckle. “Zhu you should come along to confirm injuries and timing, I’ll meet you there with Le Fay separately. I trust you two to communicate the details.” Atlas is quick to cut Reese’s attempts at jabs off with his plans, waiting not another moment before he gives the two of you a stiff nod and walks away, back towards the exit he took. You sigh. Well shit. There goes any chance of talking it out. You frown. “Is he always like that?” Reese asks, looking back at you as he grabs another fistful of fries and stares holes into the back of the man as he leaves. The space in the bar gradually returns to its more calming presence, you notice. Were things really that tense that the whole bar held its breath? Or were things just so suffocating that it was hard to notice anything outside of it? [[“Yeah I know. I think he was cursed never to have fun or something.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“I’m gonna head home.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]]

“$name. It’s $name.” “Hm. I’m Reese.” He replies, making a motion for you through his jacket pockets. Huh. Reese. You open your mouth to reply, glad to at least have the courtesy of knowing his name now. He cuts you off before you can. “Are you gonna text your guy now or did you want to break to have tea too?” //Okay man…// You think to yourself, moment broken. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and pull out your phone, pulling up Atlas’s information quickly. There’s a quiet moment of hesitation as you stare at his contact. Doing this is far beyond what you owe him— owe //anyone// for that matter. Is it really worth the stir? Worth the effort? You frown. It has to be. Any inch closer to getting out of this alive, any excuse to avoid the terrifying implications of the gangs and killers that surround you even now. You’ll book a one way ticket as far from here as possible— headaches and clues be damned. You text Atlas a message. [[‘Hey! Hope I’m not bothering you. I’ve got some important info.’][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[‘I got a witness. Come meet us.’][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[‘You up?’][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[‘Can I ask you for something?’][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[‘I have an important witness.’][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $rnick to true>>You're not quite sure what it is, but right now can't really be bothered to cling to the fake semblance of professionalism you've already done all day. You've had quite your fill. “It’s $name, but you can call me $nickname." “Hm. I’m Reese.” He replies, making a motion for you through his jacket pockets. Huh. Reese. You open your mouth to reply, glad to at least have the courtesy of knowing his name now. He cuts you off before you can. “Are you gonna text your guy now or did you want to break to have tea too?” //Okay man…// You think to yourself, moment broken. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and pull out your phone, pulling up Atlas’s information quickly. There’s a quiet moment of hesitation as you stare at his contact. Doing this is far beyond what you owe him— owe //anyone// for that matter. Is it really worth the stir? Worth the effort? You frown. It has to be. Any inch closer to getting out of this alive, any excuse to avoid the terrifying implications of the gangs and killers that surround you even now. You’ll book a one way ticket as far from here as possible— headaches and clues be damned. You text Atlas a message. [[‘Hey! Hope I’m not bothering you. I’ve got some important info.’][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[‘I got a witness. Come meet us.’][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[‘You up?’][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[‘Can I ask you for something?’][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[‘I have an important witness.’][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $nickname to true>>What is your nickname? <<textbox "$nickname" "">> You hesitate for a moment longer. Just how much are you willing to share with this complete stranger? [[Give him your name]] [[Give him your nickname]]

<center>[[CHAPTER TWO|ch 2 start]]</center>

It starts quietly. You know you’re dreaming— you always do. It comes swiftly and silently and isn’t that much of an issue until the occasions turn into days, and the days stretch into weeks. You can’t bother to sit with them for too long, they’re either too confusing or too disturbing to unravel, and by the time you wake up they are gone. You’d hoped they were gone for good. They should’ve been. But no. This dream comes to you like the slithering of a snake around your chest, constricting your lungs and wrapping around your eyes until all you can see is dark. Dark and ash. You let out a cough as you look around, blurry vision making it impossible to comprehend entirely. The darkness at the edges of your vision are not a hindrance, only simply the lack of existence beyond what you can see. But what you can see is worse. What you can see is a muddy, stained earth beneath your cheek that feels so //real// and smells like something long-lived. Grass and rain. Smoke and blood. Sound gradually but barely whispers to your ears, drifting in and out of awareness as your eyes focus on the one thing you can make out. The only thing really. A hand, lying palm-up in the dried mud. It’s caked in debris and dark blood but you can see every bit of it as if it was real. The way the $skincolor skin cracks with blisters and burns. The way the water, be it rain or sweat, slides between broken fingers. It shouldn’t be all that terrifying, but the creeping sense of familiarity rises like a shiver up your spine. Could it be real? Could any of it be? What’s to say you are? You can’t fight the feeling that this dream is far too vivid. As your awareness awakens, so does the noise, growing sounds of shouting and roars, nothing of which you can make out, rise and rise in your eardrums until you’re quite sure you could go deaf from it all. All as it drags you back to the emptiness of sleep. A moment of slipping bliss, where the noise isn’t that loud. Where the pain isn’t that bad. A squeeze to your temples. [[And then you wake up.]]

You’re not quite sure what you expect to happen when you wake up, but the loud crash of thunder outside is far from anything you could’ve guessed. You sit up, the loud noise shocking you into a frozen position, eyes glancing around wildly as you try to comprehend your surroundings— your //self//. Adrenaline floods your veins as you only take in darkness and the vague perception of a drawn window to your side. //You don’t know this place you don’t know this place.// The shadows lingering at the edges of your vision become darker, become taller as you try to ignore them, try everything in your power to let them disappear. But they creep ever closer, darting and shooting silently to and from one another, all reaching for you. You panic and draw your knees in close, now holding yourself together with everything you have because if you let go of this anchor, who’s to say you won’t fall apart the instant you do. There’s another rumble outside, this one lower and more gradual. It does little to quell your panic as you fear something outside simply //waiting// for you to look. To turn your head and make it real. Maybe the shadows will make you look. Turn your head this way and that as they jeer and bite, whispering familiar words of scorn and amusement. Because they’ve only ever whispered— haven’t they. No need to make a show of their words, they were always meant for you alone. In the privacy of the room, you feel your heart hammer louder than your breath. Your wet eyes searching faster than your mind, and your mind reminding you of worse things than the city you’re trapped in. Those woods have always been worse. In a moment of pure panic, you tear the blankets below you upwards and over your head, diving under the covers like a naive child might do to hide from the monster. You can’t really imagine the monster is anywhere but with you there though. Still you clench your eyes closed and curl up, muscles tight and blood hammering your heartbeat into your ears. The blankets are heavy. Your breaths are heavier. [[Time passes.]]

The one lifeline you have to hold onto is the acknowledgment that the cacophony is growing quieter. No more thunder. Just the soft pattering of rain on the window that you refuse to open. It’s the only presence you can count on now. So be it. You grasp onto that lifeline with everything you have, trying not to break down into further hysterics as your head spins, every soft breeze driving your panic up as you try all you can to lessen it. No. No, you know where you are. Not home. Not a good place. But safe. Inside the bubble of here and now, where you can listen to the rain and not feel the cold. Where you can touch your arms and sides and not drive notches into your skin with the claws. You blink, the softest filter of light through the blanket allowing you to peer at your hands, which have now shifted into sharp, threatening claws. <<if $proestheticarm is true>>Your prosthetic glimmers just enough for you to make it out. <<else>>Your $primaryscale scales gleam ever so slightly under the light.<</if>> Right. You’re still here. <<if $dragonfear is true>>You stare at your hands a moment longer. Must you always wake up to… these? <<if $proestheticarm is true>>It’s made all the more sour knowing that it’s your prosthetic that has shifted with it. Like another dagger to the stomach. Cold and unmoving. Uncaring to your pleas.<</if>> Running around and into so many reminders of yourself today has not left you as put-together as you like to pretend. The bared fangs. The sharpened gazes. You feel sick. The type of sick that starts like a fever in your head and leaves you both too warm and too cold. You shift your hands back carefully and curl them together, shutting your eyes closed for a moment as you draw them into yourself and will it away. Will it all away. It won’t work, this you know. But you can’t pretend you’ve never tried.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You swallow as you stare at your hands. The mixed reaction of shame and worry builds a cocktail in your stomach, breaking out into a frenzy that takes even you off guard. You’ve never had this strong of a reaction to it. You can chalk it up to the heightened presence of it all recently. That’s it. Not the way you //knew// you were getting second glances. Not the caution you //swore// you could’ve seen in the eyes of others. No. Your nerves are gaining the better of you. It breaks you into a fit of quick shivers, these thoughts. You pull your hands up, slowly shifting them back as you curl them together and blow on them to quell the shaking. It doesn’t work.<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>>Your gaze lingers on your hands as you twist them ever so slightly, taking in every detail as you feel that stiffness in your chest tighten ever so slightly. You’re proud of this. You know you are. But why can’t you muster up that feeling as you stare the claws down— stare the chips of scales down? You swallow back a noise. The dredging back of memories hardly helps the way you look at yourself now. Or how you look at this //other// self. This part of you that you must defend— must hold out for as if it mattered. You clench your eyes closed. That’s enough. You draw your hands inwards, shifting them back and hugging yourself tight as you ride out the rest of your shakes.<</if>> You can’t help the emotion that rises as you wait out your panic. [[You cry under the sheets. Let it out.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[You need to hold it together.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

You don’t know why you even try to hold it together. It’s not like anyone’s watching. You have nothing to hide— not from yourself. You curl a bit tighter into yourself, clenching your eyes closed hard as you suck in a shallow breath. And then another. It’s not long until you’re a shaking mess, shivering and sniffling under the covers like a child. But you try your best to push the negative thoughts down, just enough to let you cry in peace. Because that’s what you need right now: peace. Moving to a new place always has its ups and downs. You had been preparing for that. But the sheer overload of new and old worries that cling to your every waking thought like a curse is nothing short of an injustice. Like you had been blindfolded and promised a better tomorrow, only to have the rug unceremoniously ripped out from under you. Hot tears stream down your face, prickling at your skin as you bask in it for a moment. And despite the release, it’s fucking terrifying. You want nothing more than for this all to be over, and the burning at your forehead and the shivers in your body do little but remind you of something you’re all too aware of. That this is real. That you are here. But maybe that’s for the best. You’re in a home with four walls, and a place that as far as you know, is safe enough from the outside perils. At least it’s safe from the rain. You sniffle and take a deep, stuttering breath, tugging at the soft blanket lying over your head. It’s a bit too thin. As your breaths turn less and less frantic, you’re able to hear the soft patter of rain a bit more clearly outside. It’s rhythmic and quiet enough to lull your terror, and the closest companion you have. Companion. Right. Peering out from under the blanket, you know you won’t see those images again. Not the shadows nor the strange images from your dream. You’ve been through it enough to know when they secede. As you look for your phone, you question the vivid nature of your dream. You haven’t had that one before. It was… fairly realistic too. You can’t bother to put too much thought into it now though. Another to add to the list. [[Next|time check]]

No. No no no no no. You’re fine. You’re okay. You’ve pulled through this before and you’ll pull through it again. Yes, things may be a disaster, and a mess, and a huge waste of your time and— You catch yourself spiraling again and tighten your grip around your shoulders. No. Enough. You just got here. You’re just adjusting. You just need time. You screw your eyes tight and curl closer in on yourself for a moment, banishing the dark thoughts in a hurried manner. Your head feels like a whirlwind and you can’t help but feel like it’s purposeful. Keep your head scrambled. Keep it occupied and you won’t have to linger closer to the dark recesses that you //know// are there. You just have to keep moving. Onto the next thing. You relax your body all at once, ignoring how your shoulders are still tensed as you rub at your face, sniffing once as you draw your attention back to your tasks. Distracting yourself with whatever you need next is easy. It’s natural. Your mind drifts with a strict tether, enough so you won’t reach too far. So. What’s next? Peering out from under the blanket, you know you won’t see those images again. Not the shadows nor the strange images from your dream. You’ve been through it enough to know when they secede. As you look for your phone, you question the vivid nature of your dream. You haven’t had that one before. It was… fairly realistic too. You can’t bother to put too much thought into it now though. Another to add to the list. [[Next|time check]]

Checking your phone, you fumble for the power before flinching back at the bright light, waiting for your vision to adjust as you blink away the blue light. Crap. Five AM? You groan and drop back into your pillow, wiping at your eyes as you stare at the screen. No notifications yet— you’re sure it’s far too early for any activity, much less your own. You frown. You’re not gonna be able to fall back asleep at this rate. Now it’s just a matter of uncomfortably killing time in the meantime. So. What to do? [[I want some air. I’ll open up a window.|rain scene]] [[I need a shower. Wipe the previous day off of me.|shower scene]] [[I’m still super hungry. I’ll see if I can find anything.|breakfast scene]]

The small storm outside rages but doesn’t pose any real threat to you. Quite the opposite, in fact. You feel the way the wind whips at the roof, straining the walls and making it shake. It sounds powerful. It sounds like a wake up call. And exactly what you need. Rolling out of bed, you tense on reflex to the colder temperatures from out under the covers, but quickly stand and move over to the covered window across from you, careful not to bump into anything along the way. It’s still dark outside— just enough to blur your senses, but you’re able to maneuver over to the drawn window just fine. And when you slide back the curtains, you aren’t quite surprised to see your view overlooking the side of the brick building across from you. You can just about peer over enough to see a large alleyway pressed below you, but even from your apartment’s placement on the top floor, your view of the rest of the city is minimal, just barely being cropped short by the taller building beside you. Maybe if you got on top of the roof somehow. You huff. Not worth the effort. Not at five AM at least. There’s a moment where you have to search for the bottom of the windowsill, hands scrambling for purchase for an instant before you find a latch and pull, hearing a quiet click before you have full control of the window. It’s less of a struggle on the way up, shoving the hefty thing upwards with a huff as it skids to a stop above you. As soon as the window is opened, you can’t suppress the shiver that runs down your spine at the cold breeze that hits you instantly. It shocks you out of any lingering thoughts you may have with a sweet whisper, a promise to surround you as you leave this baggage at the sill. So you do. Watching as the rain patters down heavily and transitions from place to place with the very wind that buffets you even from inside. You stare at it a moment longer. You… [[Stick a hand out.|arm rain]] [[Stick your head out.|head rain]]

Ugh. You really need a shower. Hopefully the longest one you can have, but you’ll take anything besides the gross feeling that sticks to your body like a film. You roll out of bed with a slight wince, stretching your back out as you sit up and leave the bed altogether and check your dark surroundings in search of the way out of the bedroom. As egregiously far the bathroom is from the bedroom, you can’t bother to mind it much the way over. You need it to clear your head anyway, and the very idea of letting water run over your stiff muscles sounds absolutely sinful. You narrowly avoid colliding into a wall on your walk over, hissing as you back into the cramped bathroom. Whatever. You’ll take anything at this point. As you shuck off your clothes, you can’t help but laugh to yourself. That seems to be your running motto huh. There’s a moment where you lift your head and meet the reflection, meeting your own eyes first. <<if $blindeye is true>>Well, one meeting another at least. It’s harder to concentrate on what you have left.<</if>> They look tired. Even the $eyecolor of them looks… dulled somewhat. You can tell you’re alive by the light of fear still present behind them though. If that’s anything. You clench your jaw. <<if $dysphoric is true>>This isn’t exactly what you want to see looking back at you. But you can’t really look away, flicking between parts of you that don’t fit— parts that cling to you like a skin over your own. How ridiculous is that? A skin over a skin hiding yet another skin. Some kind of sick magic trick. <<if $dragonfear is true>>It’s not the only skin you don’t like anyways. It’s not news.<</if>><</if>><<if $trans is true>>It’s not always been this uncomplicated looking into the reflection. You’re handling it with more and more ease every day. And that means that every glance at yourself becomes more natural. More centered. More neutral. <<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>Kind of similar to how your view that other part of you, really. It’s a bit ironic to think of the two side by side like this.<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>>You can’t help the very slight smile that pulls at your features. The day has a whole lot of hell ready for you, but not many people can claim to know who you are. You have a solid foundation at least.<</if>><</if>>You look away from the mirror and turn on the shower. You want… [[A hot shower.|hot shower scene lol]] [[A cold shower.|cold shower scene lol]]

Your stomach rumbles again. All things Almighty. If you have to wait even a little longer you think you’ll surely starve. You may be over-exaggerating a little, but the fries at the bar both helped and kickstarted a reminder to your stomach and the fact that it is cavernously hungry. With a groan, you roll out of bed, ignoring your aches and pains as you do and rubbing at your eyes as you carefully move in the dark, making your way out of the bedroom. Hopefully, besides abiding your hunger, the food can also take your mind off of things. If there’s even food there to begin with. Ugh. You might as well give it a shot. Maneuvering through the dark, it doesn’t take you too long to locate the kitchen, remembering it from the night before and spotting it illuminated ever so slightly with the soft blue light that the blinds beside it cannot hide. You reach it with a revived sigh, letting your hand slide along the countertop as you move behind it. Your other hand traces the cabinets before reaching the fridge, opening it with a pop as the light yellow of the stained bulb flickers on and illuminates a line into the room. //Oh thank everything above.// Inside, various cans and containers host a frenzy for your eyes, enough to keep you sane as you pillage though it, swiping a hand through the neatly organized setup. It’s not too much— most of it would need to be stocked for long periods after all, but it’s heaven to your stomach, which only rumbles further. You need more though. You take… [[A frozen vegetable curry.|curry eat]] [[A frozen lasagna.|lasagna eat]] [[Honestly? You’ve been craving some cereal.|cereal eat]]

You don’t want to risk getting soaked, but any shock to the system is well-welcome at a time like this. You hum softly as you take in a deep breath. Fresh air doesn’t suck either. The smell of rain fills your lungs and you relax into the windowsill, stretching one hand out into the open air. As the first drop hits, you recoil a bit at the suddenness of it, but soon relax again as you let your forearm hang out. <<if $proesthetic is "both arms">>You can’t really… feel it per se, but watching the water hit and slide smoothly down the carbon of your arm settles you nevertheless. You stand entranced for a moment, tilting your head to the side as you watch the water form tiny rivers and rivulets as they draw together and break apart against the material. Some slink into corners you’re lucky are sealed up, pooling in corners that shift and pour out of crevices as you tilt your arm this way and that. You can feel the water on your shoulder a bit, if anything. How the drops spray into your face every once in a while if the wind picks up. It’s still here. Even if you can't really feel it. You sigh.<<else>>The cold rainwater that drips down the $skincolor skin of your arm is translucent and slightly muddy, but catches the light of the city just enough to be almost illuminated themselves, like fireflies in a forest. It’s rather entrancing really, and you continue to stare as you tilt your hand this way and that, now fully leaned against the windowsill. It’s cold enough to shock you out of your former trance yet repetitive enough to lull you into another one— just what you needed. The drops almost tickle as they slowly run down your arm, pooling together to form river ways out of your crevices, your smaller imperfections. You clench your hand closed as a particularly cold gust of wind hits you, but are quick to relax it again as it settles. At least it always settles.<</if>> Slowly, carefully, you draw your hand back. It’s soaked through entirely, but you can’t help the little laugh that escapes you. It feels childish. Spontaneous, even. But your breathing is calmer. Your head is clearer. The next breath leaves you and takes a little bit of weight off of your shoulders. Not much. But every bit counts. You pull down the windowsill with a huff, closing it with a click as you step back. You shake out your hand. [[Next|room day 1 end]]

Honestly, who even cares anymore. You’ve been through enough already to suddenly start caring about these little moments where you’re by your lonesome. Who could be watching? You give an uneasy sweep of your dark bedroom as the thought crosses your mind. You’re tense again and the shadows seem a bit longer. //This is exactly why you need a shock back to reality.// You turn again and place both hands firmly on the edges of the windowsill. Another breath, and you’ve leaned your head out the window, jolting up at the shock of rain running down your head instantly. It’s enough to shock you out of any headspace, your fingers curling around the creaky windowsill, breath catching as you slowly relax into the rain. <<if $species is "frostspitter">>You laugh a bit as the water trailing around your head turns colder and colder, the chill of the night air and the rain sliding off of you in waves as you adjust instantaneously. Being a Frostspitter has its perks. As you laugh, you watch as a curling mist of fog blooms from your mouth and trails upwards until it dissipates, lost to the darkness above. Your head trails upwards to follow it, watching as the rain blows out the lights the darkness only seems to amplify. It’s rather foggy up here too, a reminder of the cold even if you can’t really feel it. <<if $breathweapon is true>>But you do see the way that icicles begin to form just above your vision, clinging to your eyebrows like they were made for that spot in particular. You laugh again and swipe at them <<if $nohair is false>>along with the ones forming in your hair<<else>>, shaking your head out as you begin to draw back.<</if>><</if>><<if $breathweapon is false>>You stare out a moment longer, peeking a little over the rooftops to take in as much of the sights as you can before withdrawing, wiping at the rain which has partially turned to slush on your face.<</if>><</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>It kind of… stings if you’re being honest. The rainwater that trickles down your face drips cold lines into your face, nothing that legitimately hurts, but enough for you to notice as you stand there. You can hear it too— the way the cold water evaporates off of you and steams into the air. To anyone looking, they might be a bit alarmed. Anyone but fellow Firespitters though. <<if $breathweapon is false>>It could be worse, really. If you really could breathe fire, you could practically go blind from the amount of steam rising from you. But instead you just sit and simmer. You take in a deep breath of the cool night air. You’ve done enough comparing yourself to others recently. Right now, you just want to enjoy this moment of calm. You shake your head of the rain that gathers in your face.<</if>><<if $breathweapon is true>>You start to regulate your breathing, calming yourself as the rhythmic noise drowns out all the other noise in your head. Soon enough, you can barely bother focusing on that too, the sizzling of the rain turning to soft noise as you steam less and less, gradually growing less warm as you settle further. You shake your head of the rain that gathers in your face.<</if>><</if>><<if $species is "lightningspitter">>You take a deep breath as you let your head hang for a moment longer, almost basking in the way the rain makes rivulets of your relaxed expression. It’s incredibly calming, this storm. You can’t completely put it together but the way the thunder rumbles far off in the distance doesn’t unsettle you now. It’s like a distant purr. One that sets you at ease enough to breathe comfortably again. Must be a Lightningspitter thing. You adjust yourself on the sill. <<if $breathweapon is true>>You lift your gaze as a flash of lightning clasps at the edge of your periphery. Shaking some of the water out of your eyes, you stare as another distant flash of white-blue light shoots from the clouds and shakes another rumble from the sky, still distant enough for you to make out where it disappears past the city line. You blink. It’s been a long while since you’ve been able to admire the lightning like this. Sometimes you don’t know if you should be allowed to. It’s volatile. It’s dangerous. But by god it’s gorgeous. And it makes you shiver. Or maybe that’s the cold again.<</if>><</if>><<if $species is "venomspitter">>The cold isn’t… your favorite way to shock you out of this mental fog, but it does a great job of shocking you from it. You shiver as the rain drips in front of your eyes, hanging your head down so it can’t blind you completely. You know you’re not exactly made for this weather. No Venomspitter is as good as regulating their body heat. As you hold back another shiver, it hits you just how ridiculous of a choice you just made was. Surely you’ll get a cold from this. Because the way the water is clinging to you, running down your neck now, you twist to avoid it running down your back. A laugh actually bubbles out of you, surprising even yourself as you shake your head clear of the water. Almighty. At least no ones here to breath bad omens down your neck but yourself. You wipe at your face, hoping it’s just rain.<</if>> You pull back from the window, giving yourself one last good shake before you’re no longer out in the rain. You pull down the windowsill with a huff, closing it with a click as you step back. You go looking for a towel to dry off your head. [[Next|room day 1 end]]

A buzz inside your pockets snaps you to attention. A text message from Atlas. //Are you awake?// You stare at the screen a moment longer, wondering if you should just ignore it, before letting out a breath and typing up a response. //Yeah. Are you coming by?// //Already here.// What the fuck. You walk over to your window, peering outside as you squint a little against the blur of rainwater. Sure enough, you spot Atlas’s torn-up car stationed just at the edges of your view, right around the edges of the alleyway you sit next to and closer to the front of the apartments. At least you shouldn’t get soaked on your way out. God. How long was he out there? You suppress the shiver. //Be right out. Where are we going?// //An Institute partnered lab further to the south of the Institute itself. It’s not far from here.// You roll your shoulders a bit and send him a confirmation, rummaging for your things before you move to the door. Uh oh. Weren’t you supposed to message Reese? You check the time again. Still early. God, you hope he’s awake. You type in the number you were given the day prior and think over what to send him. [[‘Hey are you awake yet?’][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[‘Wake up.’][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[‘You up?’|funny sarc text god][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[’Hi morning sorry to bother you.’][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[‘Linking the directions.’][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

You’re not even going to contemplate how much you would’ve done for a good shower. Instead, you’ll just bask in the fact that you can. While you shrug off the last of your clothes<<if $disability is "hoh">> and your hearing aid<</if>>, you are quick to set the water to warm, hoping with everything you have that it heats up soon. You don’t think you can handle a shitty shower right now. //Something// has to go right. And as if fate itself answered, as you lifted a hand to test the water, you felt it gradually heating up as you waited. Thank god. A few seconds more, and you step into the shower with a low sigh, closing your eyes as you run your head under the faucet for a moment. It’s warm and comforting and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t bask in it for a moment. <<if $species is "firespitter">>The heat of the shower steams and screams into your skin as you stand there, closing your eyes and tilting your head lower so the water can run over your head properly. Reveling in the warmth of the water allows you a moment of calm— a total moment of peace as the suffocating heat of the shower intensifies the heat already coiling around your body, leaving you with an overwhelming bliss that drowns out any other feeling. It’s like your outside finally regulates with your inside for just a moment. You smile to yourself a bit. Good call.<</if>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>You bit back the noise when you entered the shower, and now, the more time you give it, the more time you have to acclimate to the change in temperature. It kind of stung getting into the shower if you’re being entirely honest. It always does a little, your Frostspitter body acclimating to the heat of the shower. It steams around you now, the hot water refusing to freeze or cling to your body too long as you take a deep breath in, rolling your shoulders and allowing yourself to relax into the moment. A bit of heat once in a while isn’t a bad thing.<<else>>As you settle underneath the hot water, you smile softly to yourself, tilting your head this way and that as you close your eyes and just simmer in the moment. It’s a peaceful moment of bliss where the rain from the outside is drowned out by the water inside. You let the steam roll like waves over your skin and pry away the previous day, whittling away your worries and stresses just for a moment. You’re almost sure that if you opened your eyes, you could see them emptying down the drain. They’ll be back. But not right now. You lean into the moment.<</if>> You stick inside the shower for a moment more before gradually removing yourself from the tub, shaking the water off of yourself with a huff and drying yourself off as you move back to your room and begin preparing for your day. You’ll be ready this time. [[Next|room day 1 end]]

You set your shoulders as you think on it for a moment. No. You can’t just stand with your feelings right now. You’ve got other stuff to worry about, other stuff to focus on that may be coming sooner than you know. The less you think about your decision the better. You shrug off the remains of your clothes<<if $disability is "hoh">>and your hearing aid<</if>>, avoiding the mirror as you turn on the water and don’t turn it up. You suck in a breath and enter the shower without another moment to waste. <<if $species is "firespitter">>You visibly jerk back as the icy cold meets your side, and are quick to silently leap back out of the shower, turning the knob just up enough to be noticeable before jumping back in. No fuck that. You can stand the cold but you’re not going to //torture// yourself. You’ll keep it low enough to shock you up and awake but there’s no reason to put yourself in a miserable mood all day. Firespitter sense is still good sense. You slide under the water with a shiver, perking slightly as the water hisses in turn, quickly reacting to your already-warm skin. Huh. You didn’t know you were that warm still. The steam slowly lessens as you wash yourself, focusing on getting yourself clean and awake quickly.<</if>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>Settling under the cold water doesn’t even shock you to attention. Not like how you had suspected, at least. More than anything it… well it sinks into your skin. In a way that you know if you were shifted right then, it’d be getting under the spaces of your scales. But you’ll just have to settle for the feeling of it slipping between along your pores. The cold does reach you eventually, a side effect of your naturally cold Frostspitter body, but not an unwelcome one this time as you tilt your head to the side and enjoy the feeling of the cool alighting your senses carefully, one at a time. It holds hands with the chill from your body, dances in tandem for a moment, then rests once more as your body regulates. Balanced. Right.<<else>>The chill of the shower is not exactly pleasant per say, but you’re prepared for it. You stiffen up as the water meets you, shaking the water from your head as if it clings too tightly to you anyway, and are quick to focus on getting clean as quickly as you can. It is, if anything, a wonderful distraction. Exactly what you needed. Exactly the purpose. It keeps the past few hours on hold, frozen and buried deep— too deep to register. You don’t need to anyway, it’s far too much. The cold chases the shadows away.<</if>> You stick inside the shower for a moment more before gradually removing yourself from the tub, shaking the water off of yourself with a huff and drying yourself off as you move back to your room and begin preparing for your day. You’ll be ready this time. [[Next|room day 1 end]]

You pop open the freezer with a bit of effort, grimacing at the minimal selection you have to choose from. Ah well. You aren’t looking for scraps right now anyway, just meals. You grab a frozen curry and check the instructions quietly before unwrapping it and putting it into the microwave with numbed fingertips. Figuring out the machine is a bit more of a hassle, but after a few experimental button presses, the microwave spins to life with minimal sputter. You raise your eyebrows and step back, crossing your arms as you lean back against the countertop and silently watch. At least something here works. You didn’t have much faith in this place upon your arrival, but you can certainly make it work. Your eyes float to the drawn curtains of the window, thin shutters casting pale blue light into the room that is offset by the shadows and the fluorescent yellow of the microwave humming softly to the tune of rain and thunder storming outside. You take a deep breath to clear your head. It’s an effort to focus on the noise outside of your head rather than the racket inside it, but you manage, pulling yourself above the deeper, murkier thoughts to allow yourself the mercy to skim the waves instead. You’re here. Whatever bad that may mean for you. But there’s nothing to be done. You’re hungry. As if reading your thoughts, the microwave chimes to a stop with a loud, incessant beep that makes you lean forwards quickly and stop the timer. As you pop the door open, steam drifts from the exposed meal and you take it with careful hands, holding back a hiss at the heat as you move to eat it at the countertop. Your stomach growls later. The bar fries earlier gave you enough time to stave it off, but after the reintroduction of the warm meal in front of you, it bites back at you with a force that genuinely startles you a bit. //Alright alright calm down.// You sit down at the counter with a huff, shifting yourself on the stiff seat and pulling your food in front of you. The curry itself is piping hot, <<if $species is "firespitter">>but it doesn’t bother you too much as you dig in.<<else>>enough to where you have to draw back a bit and blow on it before digging in.<</if>> The curry is delicious and warm as it settles your rioting stomach altogether, your own mind going quiet for just a moment as you savor your first taste of food in a while. Blessed be. You finish with your morning meal, putting away the rest as you quietly clean up the counter and shelve it all back. Right. Time to prepare for the day. [[Next|room day 1 end]]

You pop open the freezer with a bit of effort, grimacing at the minimal selection you have to choose from. Ah well. You aren’t looking for scraps right now anyway, just meals. You grab a frozen lasagna and check the instructions quietly before unwrapping it and putting it into the microwave with numbed fingertips. Figuring out the machine is a bit more of a hassle, but after a few experimental button presses, the microwave spins to life with minimal sputter. You raise your eyebrows and step back, crossing your arms as you lean back against the countertop and silently watch. At least something here works. You didn’t have much faith in this place upon your arrival, but you can certainly make it work. Your eyes float to the drawn curtains of the window, thin shutters casting pale blue light into the room that is offset by the shadows and the fluorescent yellow of the microwave humming softly to the tune of rain and thunder storming outside. You take a deep breath to clear your head. It’s an effort to focus on the noise outside of your head rather than the racket inside it, but you manage, pulling yourself above the deeper, murkier thoughts to allow yourself the mercy to skim the waves instead. You’re here. Whatever bad that may mean for you. But there’s nothing to be done. You’re hungry. As if reading your thoughts, the microwave chimes to a stop with a loud, incessant beep that makes you lean forwards quickly and stop the timer. As you pop the door open, steam drifts from the exposed meal and you take it with careful hands, holding back a hiss at the heat as you move to eat it at the countertop. Your stomach growls later. The bar fries earlier gave you enough time to stave it off, but after the reintroduction of the warm meal in front of you, it bites back at you with a force that genuinely startles you a bit. //Alright alright calm down.// You sit down at the counter with a huff, shifting yourself on the stiff seat and pulling your food in front of you. The lasagna itself is piping hot, <<if $species is "firespitter">>but it doesn’t bother you too much as you dig in.<<else>>enough to where you have to draw back a bit and blow on it before digging in.<</if>> The lasagna itself is delicious and warm as it settles your rioting stomach altogether, your own mind going quiet for just a moment as you savor your first taste of food in a while. Blessed be. You finish with your morning meal, putting away the rest as you quietly clean up the counter and shelve it all back. Right. Time to prepare for the day. [[Next|room day 1 end]]

You grasp the cereal box with a huff, checking over the details for just a moment before shrugging and rummaging around for a bowl and the milk you spotted earlier. The cereal itself doesn’t look too great but you aren’t exactly feeling picky. Leave that for the people who aren’t actively watering at the mouth. Thankfully, everything is present, and it takes you very little effort to gather your supplies and pour the cereal in as you bring it towards yourself and pack away the supplies. As you take your bowl and walk back to the counter, you take a second to stare out the shuttered blinds of the window, pausing with your weight leaned onto one foot as you stand still. It’s rather light already outside, even if the clouds entirely block out the sun. The light from the buildings buzzing to life illuminates the room around you just enough to be pleasant, keeping you in place as you make out the smallest differences in color between the slits of the shutters. You don’t bother to step any closer and check outside though. Your reality right now is much better, even if fragile. You’ll step into the storm later. Moving quietly over to the countertop, you are quick to dig in before the cereal gets soggy, stuffing as much food as you can handle to ready up for the day. Despite your desperation, it’s nice to have anything to eat— much less breakfast. You look over to the window again as another lash of rain pelts the glass, blurring the light ever so slightly. You slow down eating just a bit, enough to savor. Right. You have time. You finish with your morning meal, putting away the rest as you quietly clean up the counter and shelve it all back. Right. Time to prepare for the day. [[Next|room day 1 end]]

//Hey are you awake yet?// Simple. To the point. You wait a moment before snapping back to the texts in a flurry, realizing your mistake and correcting it quickly. //It’s $name btw// There’s a bit of a pause. Then another. You watch as three dots appear then disappear. //yeah I’m up// Oh okay. You look back at your texts with Atlas and gather the address before quickly shooting it over to Reese. You get a thumbs up in response. Hey, you wanted quick communication at least. Tucking your phone away, you glance around the room once more before heading for the door. The door squeaks a little louder now that you’re more awake, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it could. You’ve got a whole day full of work— like it or not. And you decidedly do not like it. But as you stare down at the line that separates the old wood of your room from the older wood across from it, you know you have to move. Even a little. Being awake right now, even if it is its own nightmare, can’t compare to the ones that are still far too fresh. When will it not be though? You close your eyes for a moment and take a breath, looking behind you once more. Enough. There’s a day to experience. No more getting caught in the past. You step over the precipice and close the door behind you with finality. [[Next|leave for lab]]

//Wake up.// If you have to get up early miserable he will too. You pause for barely a second to register that you didn’t clarify who was sending the message, but you don’t bother to add to your message. //fuck you// Oh yeah he definitely knows who it is. You rummage around for your keys and look back at your texts with Atlas and gather the address before quickly shooting it over to Reese. He doesn’t respond. You’ll pretend that was a confirmation. Tucking your phone away, you glance around the room once more before heading for the door. The door squeaks a little louder now that you’re more awake, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it could. You’ve got a whole day full of work— like it or not. And you decidedly do not like it. But as you stare down at the line that separates the old wood of your room from the older wood across from it, you know you have to move. Even a little. Being awake right now, even if it is its own nightmare, can’t compare to the ones that are still far too fresh. When will it not be though? You close your eyes for a moment and take a breath, looking behind you once more. Enough. There’s a day to experience. No more getting caught in the past. You step over the precipice and close the door behind you with finality. [[Next|leave for lab]]

//Hi morning sorry to bother you.// You wait a moment, tapping your shoe to the floor. You wait a moment before snapping back to the texts in a flurry, realizing your mistake and correcting it quickly. //It’s $name btw// There’s long enough of a pause to make you worry and adjust in your position. A moment later and a response finally pops up. //hey where do I go// Ah. Right to it. You shift your weight onto the other leg as you check your texts with Atlas and shoot Reese over the address, getting a quiet thumbs up in response. Tucking your phone away, you glance around the room once more before heading for the door. The door squeaks a little louder now that you’re more awake, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it could. You’ve got a whole day full of work— like it or not. And you decidedly do not like it. But as you stare down at the line that separates the old wood of your room from the older wood across from it, you know you have to move. Even a little. Being awake right now, even if it is its own nightmare, can’t compare to the ones that are still far too fresh. When will it not be though? You close your eyes for a moment and take a breath, looking behind you once more. Enough. There’s a day to experience. No more getting caught in the past. You step over the precipice and close the door behind you with finality. [[Next|leave for lab]]

//Linking the directions.// You think that if you have to try and keep up normal conversation right now you would explode. So in order to escape it, you’ll just cut straight to things. You search your messages with Atlas and send over the directions to Reese without another spared glance. The last message from him comes in before you can close your phone. //morning to you too grumpy// You roll your eyes and put your phone away. Tucking your phone away, you glance around the room once more before heading for the door. The door squeaks a little louder now that you’re more awake, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it could. You’ve got a whole day full of work— like it or not. And you decidedly do not like it. But as you stare down at the line that separates the old wood of your room from the older wood across from it, you know you have to move. Even a little. Being awake right now, even if it is its own nightmare, can’t compare to the ones that are still far too fresh. When will it not be though? You close your eyes for a moment and take a breath, looking behind you once more. Enough. There’s a day to experience. No more getting caught in the past. You step over the precipice and close the door behind you with finality. [[Next|leave for lab]]

The trip downstairs isn’t too long, thankfully, and you make it to the lobby in no time. As you pass down the floors, you spot some people moving to and from rooms, not too many considering the time, but enough to convince you that the place isn’t completely abandoned. You hesitate as your hand lingers on the end of the staircase, looking upwards as if you could catch a glance of the people moving around up there. Maybe you could make a friend or two here? Or just keep company? Start //anything// here? You frown bittersweetly and slowly slide your hand from the ballister. No. Not now. The earth is still too broken, it’s not ready for seeds to be planted. You move to the door. Outside, slightly obscured by the rain, you manage to make out the shoddy gray paint of Atlas’s car, the driver lifting his head casually in your direction to catch your attention. You raise a hand above you to block out the rain before hustling over to him, trying not to get soaked in the meantime. As you pull over to the passenger side door and tug at it, you choke quietly to yourself as the door remains shut and locked. Atlas lazily looks over to you, similarly frustrated to why you haven’t gotten in yet, but quickly realizes his mistake and unlocks the side door. You scramble in with a huff, shaking the rain off as your partner flinches back. [[“You wanna make my life even harder, yeah?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Um. Thanks.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

//You up?// Nothing wrong with the classics. <<if $kind > 50>>You wait a moment before snapping back to the texts in a flurry, realizing your mistake and correcting it quickly. //It’s $name btw//<<else>>You pause for barely a second to register that you didn’t clarify who was sending the message, but you don’t bother to add to your message.<</if>> //whatever. where do I go// You deflate a bit but shake your head anyways. It’s easier to make these jokes in person. You look back at your texts with Atlas and gather the address before quickly shooting it over to Reese. You get a thumbs up in response. Tucking your phone away, you glance around the room once more before heading for the door. The door squeaks a little louder now that you’re more awake, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it could. You’ve got a whole day full of work— like it or not. And you decidedly do not like it. But as you stare down at the line that separates the old wood of your room from the older wood across from it, you know you have to move. Even a little. Being awake right now, even if it is its own nightmare, can’t compare to the ones that are still far too fresh. When will it not be though? You close your eyes for a moment and take a breath, looking behind you once more. Enough. There’s a day to experience. No more getting caught in the past. You step over the precipice and close the door behind you with finality. [[Next|leave for lab]]

“You wanna make my life even harder, yeah?” You half chuckle, pre-setting your shoulders as you ready yourself for another long ride. From the directions, this next place shouldn’t even be that far. Figures though. Atlas huffs and shoots you a glare that isn’t all there in it’s fire before he reaches for something in the backseat. You’re tossed a small, white paper bag that’s curled slightly at the top, keeping whatever’s inside warm enough to notice. You perk a bit, looking down at it as you shift it on your lap and Atlas moves the car out of its parked position. “What’s this?” You muse to yourself as you crumple it open. Inside, a plain bagel sits with a few packaged condiments, the soft smell from the food hitting you enough to reawaken your stomach. It growls. <<if hasVisited("breakfast scene")>>//And I just ate too.//<</if>> “Something to keep your energy up. I want you ready for today.” Your partner replies, focus back on the road as he drives. You hum to yourself and bite into the bagel, trying to hold back the satisfaction from leaking into your expression too much as you do. Damn does everything taste this good when you’re this hungry? “Today. Right. Any reason I should be more prepared for today?” You ask. //Any more than I should’ve been yesterday fighting in the subway?// You don’t ask. Atlas leans his head slightly into one shoulder and thinks over your words for a second. “Well you should be at the ready on any given day-“ He starts and you preemptively bite back a comment. “But today we mainly have to check in at the lab. Be prepared for any more minor missions to be tacked on at any time though. Today should mainly be information-gathering.” You take another bite of your bagel and tap at the side of it with your thumb. It’s a little sour, but not stale. Right. The lab. Reese should meet you there, but you otherwise aren’t quite sure what you’re getting into. You suppose you’d be introduced to new things regardless of your position in the city, working for a tyrannical company or not. At least this way you have a heads up. You lean your head back against the chair and watch the rain, which has lightened considerably since you entered the car, splatter against the windshield. “Looking into the Institute device, right?” Atlas nods. You take another bite of your bagel. [[“So about your friend…”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[This bagel is good. You don’t want to bother with a conversation.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“Um. Thanks.” You nod, silently shutting your mouth soon after. You really //really// don’t want to start an argument this early into the day, and throwing a fuss over the smaller things only could land you in hot water. Whether you’ll end up there or not soon anyways is a gamble though. Atlas doesn’t say anything and reaches for something in the backseat. You’re tossed a small, white paper bag that’s curled slightly at the top, keeping whatever’s inside warm enough to notice. You perk a bit, looking down at it as you shift it on your lap and Atlas moves the car out of its parked position. “What’s this?” You muse to yourself as you crumple it open. Inside, a plain bagel sits with a few packaged condiments, the soft smell from the food hitting you enough to reawaken your stomach. It growls. <<if hasVisited("breakfast scene")>>//And I just ate too.//<</if>> “Something to keep your energy up. I want you ready for today.” Your partner replies, focus back on the road as he drives. You hum to yourself and bite into the bagel, trying to hold back the satisfaction from leaking into your expression too much as you do. Damn does everything taste this good when you’re this hungry? “Today. Right. Any reason I should be more prepared for today?” You ask. //Any more than I should’ve been yesterday fighting in the subway?// You don’t ask. Atlas leans his head slightly into one shoulder and thinks over your words for a second. “Well you should be at the ready on any given day-“ He starts and you preemptively bite back a comment. “But today we mainly have to check in at the lab. Be prepared for any more minor missions to be tacked on at any time though. Today should mainly be information-gathering.” You take another bite of your bagel and tap at the side of it with your thumb. It’s a little sour, but not stale. Right. The lab. Reese should meet you there, but you otherwise aren’t quite sure what you’re getting into. You suppose you’d be introduced to new things regardless of your position in the city, working for a tyrannical company or not. At least this way you have a heads up. You lean your head back against the chair and watch the rain, which has lightened considerably since you entered the car, splatter against the windshield. “Looking into the Institute device, right?” Atlas nods. You take another bite of your bagel. [[“So about your friend…”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[This bagel is good. You don’t want to bother with a conversation.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

This bagel is good. You don’t want to bother with a conversation. You don’t even want to imagine the cogs turning in Atlas’s head as you two ride down the street, instead taking the time to watch the soft fog that the rain makes on the pavement below. It’s almost easier this way, leaving the conversation to die on its own. It lets you breathe, gives you a moment to think. A moment to separate yourself from someone who seems more than happy to speak for you. You take another bite of your bagel. Shit. What are you even going to do about the nightmares? You’ve had enough time to process it, enough time to know that now the shadows couldn’t run you down in this vehicle, this //time//. But it still makes you hesitate. Makes the bagel in your mouth feel dry. You swallow and it hurts. There’s a lot you’re pushing off for today. A lot of thoughts and a lot of things to process. But aren’t you doing the same with the conversation right now? “You still up for today?” Atlas breaks the silence in a surprising turn and you glance over to him, swallowing again to force the lump of food down your throat. Once you process his words, your look turns a bit more… purposeful and Atlas soon catches on. “Ah. Yeah.” He grimaces, turning silent once again as he answers his own question. The silence grows painful again. Of course you have to be up for today. Because unless you were sick and dying, you’re not quite sure how you could snake your way out of the situation even an inch. But he did ask. You look at Atlas once more and go back to staring out the window again. He did ask. For whatever that’s worth now. [[Next|lab arrive]]

“So about your friend…” You start. Reese prodded at it earlier to no avail if you remember right, but here Atlas doesn’t have a good cover. No way to snap back from the conversation. Not like he won’t try. You can already see the cold mask slip over his eyes at the turn in conversation. “Does bothering me about my personal life bring some sad satisfaction to your own, Le Fay?” He grumbles, obviously put off by the familiarity in your tone, and you only frown in turn. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Yes actually. Yes it does.” You suddenly grin, leaning back more casually into your chair as you look over to him. The deep unamused frown on his face is funny enough for you to have to hide your chuckle behind a hand.<<else>>You tsk and shrug your shoulders, adjusting yourself on your seat and taking the time to glance out the window. Almighty. Trying to get this guy to give anything away doesn’t even have a comparable metaphor. It just sucks.<</if>> “They’re an incredibly respectable and highly intelligent person.” Atlas starts suddenly. You blink at him. Oh? “They work very hard to keep their work together and since this is such an important case-“ You catch the serious glance thrown your way and inwardly groan. Ah yes. Here it comes. “I expect you to treat them with the utmost respect. We shouldn’t be there long enough for a circus show, got it?” He emphasizes his words with a raised brow and you only stare back at him for a moment. Leave it to him to turn a casual trip into an executive nightmare. You let a puff of air out of your nose but don’t respond. [[Next|lab arrive]]

The rest of the car ride is blessedly short, and even the rain clears up enough for you to make out your destination before you get there. It’s a similar building to the King Institute, if only really in theme. The dark panels are broken up with a blank white color which gives it an almost hospital-like appearance, while that, and the shorter stature of the lab, makes it a bit easier on the eyes. The lack of a threatening statue outside sure does help too. As you pull into the sparse parking lot, you make out a figure slid up against a wall and under the overhang of the front glass doors of the building. You can identify the smoke before you can identify him. “Reese!” You shout as you pop open the passenger door, already shielding your eyes as you move quickly out of the way of the rain and under the same overhang. Atlas locks the car behind you and follows a ways behind. The darker haired man raises his eyebrows as he spots you, throwing you a half wave before stuffing the hand back into his pocket. It’s no longer bloodied, but his knuckles are still bruised. Still human too. You glance into the building, being able to see pretty far into the sanitized insides as you peek. Yeah. You can’t blame the caution. [[“Did you sleep well?”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Really? At this hour?”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“Really? At this hour?” You prod, wiping some of the rain off of your clothes as you try to lean out of the way of the ring of smoke that hovers around him like a fog. Just how long has he been waiting here? He gives you a self-satisfied smirk and blows the smoke at you. “The more it bothers you, the more I wanna do it.” He laughs, sucking in another breath as he spares you this time turns his head, watching an unfamiliar car roll by. You chuckle darkly and ball one hand into a fist, silently doing everything in your power not to start a fight with him here and now. “Zhu.” You both perk up at the voice, Atlas having taken his sweet time to stride over, now stood underneath the same overhang as the two of you. The rain gradually begins to peel away, layer by layer, but droplets of water still cling to the side of the stocky windows of the building behind you. Reese lifts his head and frowns at him but otherwise doesn’t speak. Seems like Atlas takes that as permission. “Once inside, I expect you two to be on your best behavior, got it? This is delicate research we’re dealing with, and most of the people inside here do not wish to be bothered. So unless I say otherwise-“ He looks directly at Reese. “No touching.” Reese sputters to a start like an engine. You close your eyes and sigh. Do you really want to deal with all of this right now? [[No. I’m going inside.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[Maybe I can try and get these two to play nice.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]]

“Did you sleep well?” You ask genuinely, shaking off some of the rain that still clings to you in tiny droplets. Reese gives you a look and sucks in another mouthful of cigarette smoke. “After the night we had? Sure. Like a baby.” He replies with a dry laugh. Smoke slips from the spots between his canines. You quirk an eyebrow at him. You know what— as long as he acknowledges that you two went through it together. You’re not determined enough to cut through his attitude right now. You offer him a sympathetic nod. “Zhu.” You both perk up at the voice, Atlas having taken his sweet time to stride over, now stood underneath the same overhang as the two of you. The rain gradually begins to peel away, layer by layer, but droplets of water still cling to the side of the stocky windows of the building behind you. Reese lifts his head and frowns at him but otherwise doesn’t speak. Seems like Atlas takes that as permission. “Once inside, I expect you two to be on your best behavior, got it? This is delicate research we’re dealing with, and most of the people inside here do not wish to be bothered. So unless I say otherwise-“ He looks directly at Reese. “No touching.” Reese sputters to a start like an engine. You close your eyes and sigh. Do you really want to deal with all of this right now? [[No. I’m going inside.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[Maybe I can try and get these two to play nice.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]]

Yes. You have to try something— otherwise these two will just be arguing all day. You fold your hands together in front of your mouth, taking a deep breath to settle yourself before you raise the same hands in a placating gesture towards both of them. Atlas notices it, but it’s almost like Reese doesn’t right away, face red with the anger he holds inside as he begins his tirade. “Ohhhh I see how it is! No touching huh? I’ll show you //no touching//-“ “Hey how about we chill out yeah!” You suddenly interrupt, not meaning to get as loud as you do, but getting your point across regardless as Reese’s glare jerks over to you. He’s quiet though, waiting for you to speak. You swallow. Okay shit. You didn’t exactly realize how awful it was to have their attention like this. “Sorry just- I know it’s early and we’re all a little tired…” You start, lowering your hands and your voice as you glance between them. Atlas crosses his arms. “But we’re almost inside, can we try and get along just a little longer for the sake of day one?” There’s a soft rumble of thunder in the distance as it purrs its approval and Reese looks off towards the noise. Atlas gives you a stare but despite your hesitance, you can’t really call it a glare of any kind. Does he… not think he’s also guilty of the argument starting? “Good call Le Fay. We have work to do. Let’s head inside.” He nods stiffly. Oh yeah he totally thinks he wasn’t responsible. You sigh as he spins around and moves into the building, Reese finally looking back to you with a frown. You wait for the digging comment but it never comes, the man instead just letting out a dramatic scoff and roll of his eyes as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and follows after Atlas. You’re left outside for a moment, blinking in what you can only call shock. How did that work so smoothly yet still somehow put you in wrong. This all better be worth it. You head inside. Inside, it’s strikingly similar to the Institute, if on a much smaller scale. The walls are a bit lighter, pristine white hallways stretching out from all directions leading into confusing doorways that are too hard to track and much harder to stare at. It’s a wonder people don’t go mad here. You glance up, following a long staircase as it travels upwards, various balconies clinging to the sides of each floor as it ascends. Despite how early it is, you see lab workers moving from place to place, the activity resonating a deep hum within the building. If it wasn’t for the unmistakable brutalist design, you could see yourself forgetting this place basically belonged to the King Institute. You don’t have long to look around though as Atlas leads the way deeper into the building, leaving you to catch up as you make for the elevators. [[Next|lab explore]]

Nope. You’re not going to deal with this right now. Not this early. Honestly not ever if you can avoid it. As Reese opens his mouth, you pivot and completely turn around, hand on the door as you push inside and entirely avoid the conflict. As the door slides shut behind you, you can already hear the muffled shouting behind the glass starting up, but you’re far too wrapped up in your change in environment to bother making out the words. Inside, it’s strikingly similar to the Institute, if on a much smaller scale. The walls are a bit lighter, pristine white hallways stretching out from all directions leading into confusing doorways that are too hard to track and much harder to stare at. It’s a wonder people don’t go mad here. You glance up, following a long staircase as it travels upwards, various balconies clinging to the sides of each floor as it ascends. Despite how early it is, you see lab workers moving from place to place, the activity resonating a deep hum within the building. If it wasn’t for the unmistakable brutalist design, you could see yourself forgetting this place basically belonged to the King Institute. You take a few steps deeper inside, peering out into the lobby that those sparse, doesn’t exactly seem made for lounging. You can’t really imagine how many people come here to hang out in the first place. Well… besides you huh. You drop your shoulders. What a terrible gig. <<if $intadd > 40>>The worst part being— you can’t even properly investigate the stuff you //want// to. It feels like a glass museum you aren’t allowed to touch anything in.<</if>>At least in here no one pays that close attention to you. Besides the odd glance out at the mess behind you. You turn around slowly, basically dragging yourself to stare at your two companions still sniping back at one another. Well— Atlas is sniping. Reese is yelling. You groan deeply and wipe a hand down your face, walking over to the glass door and knocking on it suddenly, catching the two’s attention as they snap their gazes to you. God. It’s like staring down a double-barreled shotgun. You simply frown at them and make a sweeping gesture towards the inside, a quietly mocking invitation. They both frown and you can see Atlas look away for a second, ears burning. At least your point was made. Reese pops open the door with an elbow, avoiding your eyes and glaring down some hapless intern as he lets the door drop on Atlas, who only catches the door with a bit of a struggle, muttering some curse under his breath. You avoid groaning out loud this time. It’s like working with children. “Right.” Atlas starts, clearing his throat as he takes control again. “Follow me.” [[Next|lab explore]]

The ride up is relatively quick, the tension between your two partners clogging the small space up so much to the point that you don’t feel right starting a conversation either. Thankfully, it doesn’t last long as the door clicks open with a small chime and Atlas steps out first, pausing outside of the doors as you and Reese follow. “Alright. Remember what I told you. This work is not only fragile-“ <<if $nervous < 50>>“Drake.” You interrupt, splaying a palm in his direction. Is he just repeating himself now? Atlas frowns a little deeper but seemingly takes the hint. That’s an improvement. “It’s also protected research. That means no going around speaking of the things you see here. We are here for information, nothing more.” He finishes, moving once again.<<else>>“Yeah yeah we got this speech already, remember?” Reese interrupts. You glance over to him with a widened gaze but Atlas does stop himself, if shooting a glare back in his direction. “//And// It’s protected research. That means no going around speaking of the things you see here. We are here for information, nothing more.” He finishes, moving once again.<</if>> The three of you walk through hallway after hallway, each door you pass growing less and less interesting as you continue forwards. At least the first few doors had labels over them. Some had windows. You even caught a glance of some kind of chemical testing room, strange bright green colors mixing into blue hues in a manner you couldn’t quite pin down. It strikes you how mismanaged everything is here. Despite the organization, despite the professionalism, a lot of things are being studied here. It’s like a mishmash of all sorts of subjects and categories, placed just far away from one another to not be dangerous. What was this place before the Institute began making joint-work with them? Was it ever anything at all before them? You yank yourself back from bumping straight into Atlas’s side as he stops suddenly, your eyes following his as you read the engravings on the door in front of you. //Technological Development// [[Next|lab enter]]

Oh. Vague. Atlas turns to you and Reese again, opening his mouth as if to deliver another speech. Not again. It’s like he’s the world’s worst preacher. If he falls into that role however, that must make Reese the world’s best heretic, as he just as quickly slides forwards, mouthing a quick but exaggerated //oh my god// and pushes the door open before Atlas can issue another warning. Atlas, in shock, spins around to grab at his jacket but by then it’s too late and the door has been opened. You peer to the side of the two of them to get a better look inside. Inside, the laboratory is about what you expected. The walls are a dull gray-white along with the counters, which are dotted with all sorts of equipment, various papers, models, and leftover mechanical materials left organized into little rows for you to gander at. What really catches your attention though, even before you take a single step inside, is the large fish tank set into the very middle of the lab towards the back wall. The deep, almost unnatural blue hypnotizes you for a moment, long enough for you to be caught entirely off guard as someone steps into your line of sight. Atlas is quick to hiss at you to move back even as you slide out of the way of this person, a tall blonde woman stepping past you with a hum. Likely someone working within this branch, if the long white lab coat is any indication. She glances over to you only for a moment, meeting your eyes for a second before she just as quickly snaps away and walks down the hallway without another word. <<if $species is "venomspitter">>Was it just you or was there a little… excitement in her eyes?<</if>> She’s gone before anyone can even apologize for being in her way. At least the room is clear now. You turn your attention back to the fish tank, entering slowly as you walk straight up to it. You can barely make out the sound of Atlas and Reese arguing behind you. Instead, you hover around the edge of the tank, stopping right before it as your vision adjusts to the light. The strange blue glow that would easily fill the room if not for the bright white lights above come from the bottom of the tank, filling the spacious case and illuminating the fish that slide to and from small coral structures. It’s rather beautiful, honestly, and you find your eyes tracing over the different colors and how they glimmer and shine, both on the coral itself and the fish that stop to stare at you with large eyes. A brilliant blue and red betta fish slowly passes your line of sight and you follow it along its path, tracing every detail of the small fish that seems to carry itself with a bravery that supersedes the case it finds itself in. Long, old scars trace over its side, jagged strips of fin missing from fights that happened long ago. You can’t help but watch in a type of awe, stuck in the smallest moment of peace you can muster in the moment. [[A pair of eyes watching you snaps you back to reality.|puck meet]]

<<set $puckrelationshippos = 50>><<set $puckrelationshipneg = 100>> <<if $expressive > 50>>You snatch yourself back a bit involuntarily at the sight of someone on the opposite side of their glass, a person looking similarly shocked to see you staring back at them. <<else>>You raise your eyebrows the slightest bit but otherwise don’t react as the person opposite the glass rears back a bit, surprised to see you staring back at them.<</if>> The two of you blink at each other for a moment before the stranger glances over your shoulder and smiles softly, stepping back and moving from out behind the glass tank. You catch a better sight of them as they turn the corner, looking over to you with a soft laugh as they adjust the thick-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of their nose. They have a very soft smile, one that doesn’t totally reach their eyes but still seems to lighten the room anyways. Long, dark dreadlocks reach their shoulders and are tucked behind their head with a light purple ribbon, the color stark against the long white lab coat that sits on top of a tall and full frame. They glance over the room with dark brown eyes until finally settling on Atlas, who is just as quick to look back. “You brought company?” They ask, letting out an amused chuckle that doesn’t seem in the least frustrated. Atlas, for the first time since you’ve met him, seems to be unable to answer. But it only lasts a moment as he just as quickly rights himself, throwing an angry glance to Reese and marching over to greet the newcomer. “My apologies. Puck, this is $name Le Fay, my assigned partner for the investigation. Le Fay, this is Puck Bishop. They’re a brilliant scientist and the one who will be helping us today.” Atlas introduces with a stiff nod, his hands folded behind his back. Puck throws him a look with a raised eyebrow that gives you the impression that this is just as odd to them as it is to you. Still, they turn their attention back to you and give you that same smile you saw previously. “Nice to meet you $name. Wish it was under better circumstances.” [[“Nice to meet you too, Puck.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Atlas was going on and on about you.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Yeah. Can we move to what we’re here for?”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[You just nod at them.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos +=10)>>“Nice to meet you too, Puck.” You reply earnestly in response, giving them a slight smile. They nod in response, tilting their head a little to the side as they look you over. You’re not quite sure why, but being stared down like this doesn’t feel demeaning. Not like you’re being searched for every flaw— every mistake in your technique that may make you a target or a threat. You swallow. You’ve gotten too used to being seen like that. But this scientist only looks on in consideration. They lean to half-whisper to Atlas. “I like this one, $heshe<<if $pronouns_plural is true>>’re<<else>>’s<</if>> nice.” They note, eyes shining. Atlas looks over to you slowly but doesn’t correct them. The conversation quickly shifts as Puck moves to one of the tables along the other side of the room. This side is a bit busier, a little less organized but still well-put together, folders neatly stacked to a small potted fern that takes up half of the space. You’re quite surprised so many personal touches are allowed in such a professional setting, much less one associated with the King Institute. As Puck settles into a seat nearby, Atlas just as quickly sets down the small flat cylindrical device on the table. Reese even peers over as well, hands idly tracing over some expensive-looking equipment. Guess you may as well join in. [[Next|disc inv]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos +=10)>>“Atlas was going //on and on// about you.” You tease, throwing Atlas a look as you do. He tsks loudly, face growing slightly pink before Puck laughs loudly and unexpectedly. You both blink as they try hiding the laugh behind a hand, snorting into the side of their palm. They look at Atlas, eyes glittering with amusement as they wipe a tear from the corner of their eye. “Oh I //like// this one Atlas, $heshe<<if $pronouns_plural is true>>’re<<else>>’s<</if>> funny.” They huff out between dying laughter. Atlas frowns but directs it towards you instead of them, eyes sharp. Your grin back is sharper. A new //in// huh? The conversation quickly shifts as Puck moves to one of the tables along the other side of the room. This side is a bit busier, a little less organized but still well-put together, folders neatly stacked to a small potted fern that takes up half of the space. You’re quite surprised so many personal touches are allowed in such a professional setting, much less one associated with the King Institute. As Puck settles into a seat nearby, Atlas just as quickly sets down the small flat cylindrical device on the table. Reese even peers over as well, hands idly tracing over some expensive-looking equipment. Guess you may as well join in. [[Next|disc inv]]

“Yeah. Can we move to what we’re here for?” You huff out, already not in the mood to be introduced to more people. Puck looks a bit taken aback, but is quick to relax again, letting out a short sigh before nodding. “Of course. Sorry, I know you folk have more important matters.” Was that… a hint of sarcasm? They move on before you can process it. The conversation quickly shifts as Puck moves to one of the tables along the other side of the room. This side is a bit busier, a little less organized but still well-put together, folders neatly stacked to a small potted fern that takes up half of the space. You’re quite surprised so many personal touches are allowed in such a professional setting, much less one associated with the King Institute. As Puck settles into a seat nearby, Atlas just as quickly sets down the small flat cylindrical device on the table. Reese even peers over as well, hands idly tracing over some expensive-looking equipment. Guess you may as well join in. [[Next|disc inv]]

You just nod at them. Puck half-chuckles, seemingly amused by your display, but just as quickly rolls with it, moving smoothly into the next step of conversation. Atlas shoots you a frustrated look but doesn’t keep it long as Puck speaks up. “Not much of a talker, eh? No worries, we can get to what you came here for.” The conversation quickly shifts as Puck moves to one of the tables along the other side of the room. This side is a bit busier, a little less organized but still well-put together, folders neatly stacked to a small potted fern that takes up half of the space. You’re quite surprised so many personal touches are allowed in such a professional setting, much less one associated with the King Institute. As Puck settles into a seat nearby, Atlas just as quickly sets down the small flat cylindrical device on the table. Reese even peers over as well, hands idly tracing over some expensive-looking equipment. Guess you may as well join in. [[Next|disc inv]]

“The hell’s this thing?” Reese asks, snatching the device up and pulling it closer to himself to investigate. Atlas is quick to snap it back from him, fixing him with another unamused glare. “If you’d just stop-“ “No, I’m curious too.” Puck interrupts, grabbing it out of Atlas’s hand now. The white-haired man looks from his hand to Puck’s, slowly registering what happened before he sighs loudly. You take the moment to lean against the counter and watch as Puck places the device down on the counter, grabbing a small pick-like tool from the side counter in order to heft at the sides of the object. “It’s Institute tech- we know that much.” You start explaining. “We caught someone from the Brimstone gang trying to run off with it. Didn’t stick around to ask why they wanted it though.” You hear Reese make a dry laugh at this revelation, but you don’t turn to catch his expression. Atlas gives his approval with a short nod though. “I believe it’s a mechanical part of some kind but something’s wrong. It’s…” He idly spins his hand, searching for the word. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Fucked?” You add simply, focus still on the work being done to crack open the device. “Ultra-fucked?” Reese pipes up. There’s a long groan that you know by now to be from Atlas. “You two are incredibly unhelpful.”<<else>>“Fucked up?” Reese adds without a thought. You try your best to ignore this one and so does Atlas.<</if>> “Modified.” Puck answers for the group, finally popping open the side of the device with a sharp //snap//. The silence that follows prompts them to continue as they poke at the insides of the disc, a mess of wires and other gear that’s confusing to track. “I’ve worked with this part before but it’s never that difficult to open. Look at this,” The group leans in to peer closer at the parts inside of the disc. <<if $intadd > 40>>You’re not familiar with the original device, so it’s hard to put your finger on any one thing, but you notice something off as Puck begins explaining it.<<else>>Nope. It doesn’t look any less confusing the harder you look.<</if>> “The hardware, the wiring, it’s all off. It’s working just fine but there’s searing here,” They point to a tiny bit of melted metal against the dark shape of the insides. “-and here. I can’t even really tell you what they modified it to do. There’s not much you can do with such a small part.” Atlas sighs and leans back, eyebrows furrowed. Reese, meanwhile, rolls his head and turns away, bored already with the investigation. [[“What was it originally made for?”]]

The group turns to look at you. What? Did you say something wrong? Before you can double-check your words though, Puck nods and tries answering you. “I mean, that’s just the thing. It’s a smaller part of a whole system. That’s why it’s odd.” They lean back now too, adjusting the collar of their purple button-up. “This is a type of conductor. Its original purpose is to take energy, more importantly high voltages, and transfer them throughout the system in order to reduce harm on the point of impact.” Now the silence that follows feels a bit more particular. A bit more hesitant. A bit more tense. <<if $chase is true>>You have something on your mind. “The guy I was chasing yesterday,” You start. Puck looks a little alarmed at this but doesn’t speak, silently urging you to continue. “He said something before Atlas showed up. He was panicking, saying something about a //him// going to kill everyone.” You swear you could hear everyone in the room breathing; it was so silent. You slowly look to meet Atlas’s eyes. You could swear he looked nervous. “Atlas. Who was he talking about?”<<else>>“What system?” Reese pipes up this time, now leaning back against a wall with his arms crossed. Puck hums. “Prosthetics. It’s meant to slot into specifically-designed prosthetics to avoid unwanted electrical discharge.” They answer, scratching a bit under one of their eyes. “But that’s another thing. It’s made for very specific tech- more Institute machinery that the general public shouldn’t have their hands on.” “So who would get anything out of that?” You ask, rubbing at your chin as you try to think.<</if>> [[Next|atlas step out]]

A loud chime suddenly interrupts the tense silence of the room, Atlas just as quickly making for his phone, checking the screen before frowning again. “I have to take this.” He murmurs, cutting off all ties to the conversation as he moves to the door. You stare at him. Seriously? But he’s gone before you can do anything and Reese huffs long and low. “Well there goes that train of thought,” He says with a shrug of his shoulders. “Right out the door.” <<if $kind < 50>>“Can you quit that?” You growl, already frustrated with the dead end. You don’t need this too.<<else>>“He’ll be back. I’m sure it’s something important.” You try sympathizing, already feeling the block in your throat as you say it.<</if>> Puck shakes their head, turning back to the device as they begin to fiddle with it once more. “He’s… like that. Just give him time.” They try reasoning. You can see Reese sidling up for a comment. Oh no. “//Sure.// And you are?” He laughs dryly. Puck looks very slowly over to him, not turning their head as they raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Puck. And you?” “Reese.” “Hm. You’re very loud Reese.” The dark-haired man sputters in shock at the sudden insult, uncrossing his arms as he lunges upright. Puck doesn’t entertain it for long though, simply chuckling before turning back again to the disc. Reese looks to you then to Puck once more before crossing his arms again, this time hugging them tighter to his body and glaring the scientist down silently. You swear you could smell smoke. [[You have to laugh at that.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[Whatever. Is Atlas done yet?][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

Whatever. Is Atlas done yet? You move back to the counter across from the two, unwilling to get between them as you try idling yourself with something else. Just more papers. Though the bickering in front of you stalls to a halt, you remain quiet, trying to keep yourself from drifting too far into the depths of your thoughts while ignoring the worst of the world around you. Your eyes drift to a monitor beside you. It’s running some kind of security footage, and you don’t have to investigate much further to realize it’s of the hallway right outside. On some rather grainy footage, you can make out Atlas speaking on the phone, though you can’t quite hear him. <<if $disability is "hoh">>Wait. You can make this out— just barely. Years of reading lips prepared you for this. You squint and peer closer, leaning in as he speaks. It’s difficult as he isn’t quite in frame, the shot too far above his head to read anything perfectly, but you can make out bits and pieces. Something about a raid? No, a wave. No— something else entirely? Atlas stops speaking altogether for a moment. A quick ‘affirmative’ from him, that one’s not hard to guess. Then something odder. Something about a backpack? You couldn’t understand anything about it though, as Atlas finishes the conversation turned away from the camera. Damn. You frown at the screen.<</if>> The moment doesn’t last much longer as Atlas finally returns, folding his phone back into his pocket as he closes the lab door behind him. The group looks up and everyone waits. “That was the office. There’s been a report of a possibly dangerous Venomspitter with stolen material on the run. Le Fay, you and I should go looking for them. Puck-“ “Hold on what?” You start, straightening up as you stare at him. Another mission? What was all this about? Weren’t you already in the middle of an investigation? Atlas looks over to you while the other two stand uncomfortably, eyes dashing between the both of you. “Is there a problem?” [[“Hell yeah there’s a problem!”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Well- I just-“][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

You have to laugh at that. You can’t help it. It bubbles up from your chest and escapes in light laughter, the kind which you have to hush behind a hand, glancing away as Reese twists his head to glare you down. You meet eyes with Puck instead this time, who lifts their head just enough to spot you. They offer a knowing smile back, partially hidden behind their shoulder. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all. The moment doesn’t last much longer as Atlas finally returns, folding his phone back into his pocket as he closes the lab door behind him. The group looks up and everyone waits. “That was the office. There’s been a report of a possibly dangerous Venomspitter with stolen material on the run. Le Fay, you and I should go looking for them. Puck-“ “Hold on what?” You start, straightening up as you stare at him. Another mission? What was all this about? Weren’t you already in the middle of an investigation? Atlas looks over to you while the other two stand uncomfortably, eyes dashing between the both of you. “Is there a problem?” [[“Hell yeah there’s a problem!”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Well- I just-“][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

“Hell yeah there’s a problem!” You suddenly shout back, raising yourself up. Atlas narrows his eyes as he follows that movement. <<if $height is "tall">>You don’t need to put on any extra bravado either— you’re well aware of your height.<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>You don’t need to put on any extra bravado either— you’re well aware of your height.<</if>> The tension in the room heightens. “From minute one you’ve been tugging me around from place to place, throwing things at me time and time again. I deserve a say in this. If anyone does- I fucking do.” You’re careful to make your voice stable with those last few words, staring the man down just as hard as he stares down you. You see his eye twitch. “Le Fay this is not up for discussion you-“ “Atlas.” The sharp voice pierces the space between you, and the two of you are quick to look to the source. It’s Puck. Standing arms crossed leaning against the counter behind them. They glare down Atlas with a determination that even gives you pause. The warmth you saw earlier in those eyes has clouded over, leaving nothing but storms. You’d be concerned if it wasn’t in your favor. The air has clearly changed, and Atlas notices it as well. You can see him swallow, frown still present but the energy there is diminished. After an agonizing second of silence, he finally clears his throat and turns back to you, wiping dust that isn’t there off of his coat. “Fine. I can make an arrangement this once.” He grumbles. Holy shit. You glance over to Puck, who lets out a sigh and relaxes, all of the anger draining out of them as they turn around, refusing to meet your eyes, and settle back into their chair to fiddle with the instrument again. There’s a drop in their shoulders that you don’t think comes from relaxation. “Alright Le Fay. Let’s be practical about this.” He starts. You stand attentively this time, curious on how he plans on spinning this. “We still have to take care of this. It’s our momentary priority. But I can offer you a choice. We aren’t quite sure where this Venomspitter is so spreading out may be a better option. So it’s up to you, take a trip through town or try a…” He twirls a hand with his contemplation over his next words, rolling his neck back before a wince brings him back to standing still. “A bird’s eye view I guess.” You pause at this. Does that mean… you get the chance to fly today? [[“I want to keep to the ground.”]] [[“I want to have a higher view.”]]

“Well- I just-“ You start to stutter, suddenly realizing how deep you’ve caught yourself under the eye of attention. Your stomach churns and you shrink back a bit at Atlas’s raised brow. You want to argue for your place here but arriving at this new building reminds you all too well of your first introduction with the Institute. You don’t want a repeat of that. You don’t want a repeat of those feelings. You look away, frowning. That is, until Puck steps forwards. “Atlas. That’s enough.” They interrupt, voice hard. You can’t meet their eyes, their focus still on the man in front of them, but you can see the sharpness in their gaze. It’s hard. It’s uncompromising. It’s nothing like the warmth you saw in them earlier. It’s a storm gathering on the horizon. And Atlas can smell the rain. He hesitates, leaning back a bit. You didn’t even notice him starting to lean forwards to crowd you. As soon as the room had reached intensity though, the room gradually stills, Atlas staring Puck down as if to make sure they were serious about this. Some unspoken dialogue crosses between them, one you wish you were not the topic of, before Atlas finally sighs, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Fine. I can make an arrangement this once.” He grumbles. Holy shit. You glance over to Puck, who lets out a sigh and relaxes, all of the anger draining out of them as they turn around, refusing to meet your eyes, and settle back into their chair to fiddle with the instrument again. There’s a drop in their shoulders that you don’t think comes from relaxation. “Alright Le Fay. Let’s be practical about this.” He starts. You stand attentively this time, curious on how he plans on spinning this. “We still have to take care of this. It’s our momentary priority. But I can offer you a choice. We aren’t quite sure where this Venomspitter is so spreading out may be a better option. So it’s up to you, take a trip through town or try a…” He twirls a hand with his contemplation over his next words, rolling his neck back before a wince brings him back to standing still. “A bird’s eye view I guess.” You pause at this. Does that mean… you get the chance to fly today? [[“I want to keep to the ground.”]] [[“I want to have a higher view.”]]

<<set $groundroute to true>>“I want to keep to the ground.” <<if $dragonfear is true>>You keep your voice steady as you make the choice, nodding to yourself as if that would make it any easier. The idea of flying— well it’s nearly intoxicating, but you just as quickly recognized the faults in that decision. Flying meant wings. Wings meant shifting. Shifting meant the eyes again. You swallow and frown, looking off to the fish tank to follow the shapes of the fish as they move. Do they feel free in there? Does the fake blue of the tank feel like any type of home to them? How are they to know the difference. You look away again.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You have to stop yourself from adjusting in the spot you stand. Your skin feels… itchy. A bit wrong. The idea of flying along made your senses flare up, you caught it as it did. But you’re just as quick to calm them, standing still as you internally list the pros and cons. You’ll be better off this way. Keeping low to the ground and keeping your fingers to the pulse of the city. You may learn something more interesting this way. It’s for the best, you think. Better this way and best to stay far from the issues that make you feel sick. You try to ignore the lump in your throat.<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>>The instinctive jump that the idea of flying gives you is… well it’s //too// instinctive, you think as you settle your nerves. As much as you want to spread your wings, as much as you’d love to finally breathe above the skyline, the idea doesn’t sit quite right with you. There’s got to be some catch. Some hitch onto the freedom of the sky. At the very least you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to leave the city. And that taste of freedom, that wind whipping past you that you //know// would send your heart soaring— it hurts all too much to imagine what it would be like to be dragged back to the ground. So you flinch first. And hitting the ground hurts.<</if>> Unaware of your internal struggle, Atlas gives a slight nod. He seems to breathe out a bit too, posture slightly relaxing. Less work for him it seems. “What about us, flakeface?” Reese snipes, stepping forwards and nodding his head over to Puck, who’s busying themselves with the device. “Flake-” Atlas blinks at him in astonishment before narrowing his eyes at the shorter man and shaking his head. “//Anyways,// you two will stay back here and confirm the details of the Camlann case-“ “Is that what it’s called now?” “-while me and Le Fay focus on this stolen valuables case. Shouldn’t be long.” Puck looks to you, considering your expression for a moment before pulling a chair up beside themselves and nodding over to Reese for him to join them. Reese glances between you and Atlas, finally shaking his head and with a dramatic huff, seating himself next to Puck, scooting the chair just a bit further away before he rests his head on the tops of his fists and watches. Atlas, meanwhile, jerks his head to the side to call you over as he steps outside of the room. You follow. “So what’s the plan?” You ask as the door closes behind you. Maybe you can get this out of the way faster if you try and move it along first. “Simple. I’ll take the aerial route while you take the other. According to the Institute,” He folds his arms and covers his mouth with a hand, rubbing at his chin slightly to think. “The person we’re after is a smaller venomspitter, mostly green in tone, carrying a stolen um… well a stolen strawberry backpack.” “A stolen…” You pause. “//Strawberry// backpack…” Atlas rubs at his face but he doesn’t seem particularly upset at you. Just tired. If he wasn’t the whole reason you were here in the first place, you could almost sympathize. “Yes. Apparently it’s very valuable to the owner so getting it back is a high priority. Again, it shouldn’t be long.” He sighs. [[“Aren’t we after a murderer?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Right. I’ll keep in contact then?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $flyroute to true>>“I want to have a higher view.” <<if $dragonfear is true>>You know what this implies. You’ll have to shift if you’re up there— you’re well aware of the risk. But like all the opportunities presented to you as of late, you’ll have to meet it sometime. It’s a silent little murder of yourself you make in that moment, a silent pain that flashes through your eyes too quick to be caught by anyone else. Flying itself sounds… well it sounds amazing. You can’t really remember the last time you had shifted to take off into the sky. Or maybe you just didn’t want to recall it. Because that means you’d remember what you’d have to be to get up there in the first place. No. You’d rather die like this, cinderblock tied in front of you so you can push it off the edge yourself. The idea of flying sounds divine. And you’re ready to sink.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You… well you hesitated for a moment longer than you wish you did. Sure. It doesn’t really matter does it? Either way, you’re probably not going to find this one individual in a city of probably thousands, so you might as well get some fresh air. You’re trying to ignore the way your heart speeds up. Trying to ignore the way your breath catches in your throat. Keeping it all shoved down because //of course// you’re excited, why wouldn’t you be? You’ve just been a little cooped up is all. You swallow. You doubt you’ll be out that late, but the stars are always brighter above the clouds. Damn. You really want to see that.<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>>Oh all things above. You’ve been waiting for this. Your answer comes out much faster than you intended, but you just as smoothly settle back down, fighting the smile that threatens to expose just how //excited// you are about this. Flying? Finally? The taste of this freedom is soured slightly by the idea that you’ll more than likely have to stay within the city’s limits, but it’s something. It’s more than something. It’s a desperate need for fresh air— to escape the cage you’re caught in, even if temporarily. //And no stupid collar.// People write poetry about times like these.<</if>> “What about us, flakeface?” Reese snipes, stepping forwards and nodding his head over to Puck, who’s busying themselves with the device. “Flake-” Atlas blinks at him in astonishment before narrowing his eyes at the shorter man and shaking his head. “//Anyways,// you two will stay back here and confirm the details of the Camlann case-“ “Is that what it’s called now?” “-while me and Le Fay focus on this stolen valuables case. Shouldn’t be long.” Puck looks to you, considering your expression for a moment before pulling a chair up beside themselves and nodding over to Reese for him to join them. Reese glances between you and Atlas, finally shaking his head and with a dramatic huff, seating himself next to Puck, scooting the chair just a bit further away before he rests his head on the tops of his fists and watches. Atlas, meanwhile, jerks his head to the side to call you over as he steps outside of the room. You follow. “So what’s the plan?” You ask as the door closes behind you. Maybe you can get this out of the way faster if you try and move it along first. “Simple. I’ll take the urban route while you take the other. According to the Institute,” He folds his arms and covers his mouth with a hand, rubbing at his chin slightly to think. “The person we’re after is a smaller venomspitter, mostly green in tone, carrying a stolen um… well a stolen strawberry backpack.” “A stolen…” You pause. “//Strawberry// backpack…” Atlas rubs at his face but he doesn’t seem particularly upset at you. Just tired. If he wasn’t the whole reason you were here in the first place, you could almost sympathize. “Yes. Apparently it’s very valuable to the owner so getting it back is a high priority. Again, it shouldn’t be long.” He sighs. [[“Aren’t we after a murderer?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Right. I’ll keep in contact then?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos +=10)>>“Aren’t we after a murderer?” You ask suddenly. You cross your arms to prepare for the backlash but don’t walk back your words. “The hierarchy of work seems kind of… arbitrary doesn’t it?” You turn your head to stare into the small rectangle window, <<if $height is "short">>your head barely peeking out of the bottom half,<</if>><<if $height is "average">>your view unobscured of the inside part,<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>easily managing to stare inside as you do,<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>your height making it a little uncomfortable to lean your head to peer inside,<</if>> as you watch the movement inside. You spot Puck and Reese inside still seated, their figures turned into little more than blocky shapes against the nearly-opaque window. You haven’t been yelled at quite yet. Instead, the silence that follows lacks the same bite it usually does while in Atlas’s presence. It feels like un-struck matches. There’s too much potential in it. “If I’m being quite honest… it is.” You perk up and turn to look at him, eyebrows raised as you wait for him to continue. Did you hear that right? You almost wait for him to look at you like you’re insane— like you’re hearing things. But he’s looking into that window too, the two of you caught in the moment. “Half of the time it feels like it’s just work for the sake of it.” “Welcome to my world.” You huff. There it is again. The un-struck match. The unlit kindling. There’s no bite to your words, even if you intended it, just discomfort. You feel the need to ask though, even if it gets you nowhere. Even if he just freezes up again. “Why do it at all then?” The pause is even longer this time around. It feels like the two of you stare inside the lab for ages, valuable time ticking down that both of you seem to want to stretch on for infinity. It’s harder looking in like this. Makes Atlas feel too similar to you. You don’t want that. Finally, he speaks. “What else would I do?” It feels like a cop-out. Some meaningless response that you shouldn’t have to look into because you are not responsible for this man’s comfort and shit— why does it sit so heavy in your chest? You don’t give him an inch of a response. Not even a twitch on your face. He isn’t looking for it. Your partner turns and begins walking down the hallway. “I’ll keep in contact.” [[Next|lab leave]]

“Right. I’ll keep in contact then?” You ask, pulling your shoulders up a bit to your ears. You turn your head to stare into the small rectangle window, <<if $height is "short">> your head barely peeking out of the bottom half,<</if>><<if $height is "average">>your view unobscured of the inside,<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>easily managing to stare inside as you do,<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>your height making it a little uncomfortable to lean your head to peer inside,<</if>> as you watch the movement inside. You spot Puck and Reese inside still seated, their figures turned into little more than blocky shapes against the nearly-opaque window. Atlas doesn’t answer right away, and when you notice the span of silence, you turn to look at him. He’s staring at you with an uncertain look in his eye, an expression that is still guarded but now hesitant. Is he trying to say something? You frown. “What?” You try laughing but it falls hollow against your throat and dies in the air. He parts his lips as if to speak, then seems to second-guess himself, rearing back just a bit as if you’d slung an insult at him. Just as quickly, the ice creeps over his eyes, guarding the emotions that cloud behind the grays and blues. He glances away, clears his throat, and when he looks back to you, it’s like nothing had happened. Back to the professionalism that stalks your waking hours. “Apologies. Yes. I’ll talk with you soon.” He affirms, spinning around on a heel and quickly moving down the hallway. You can’t believe this. Well— maybe you can. Your partner being so closed off is not new, but it still bothers you. These moments. It would make things so much easier if he just dropped any attempt at conversation, dropped any sign that things could get better. At least then you could focus on powering through it. You pull a hand over your mouth as you watch him retreat further and further away. What is his deal? And why is he making it your problem? You need to stop making up the guilt you see in his eyes. [[Next|lab leave]]

The way back down to the first floor of the lab is… remarkably quiet. Atlas had moved too far and too fast for you to keep track, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even make for the outside of the building right away, held up by another phone call or something. More thinking time for you at least. There’s muffled conversation that continues in separate rooms, the sounds of machinery and other unidentifiable sources clasped between walls you couldn’t even hope to wander into if you wanted. You’ve got a lot to think about. As you make it to the bottom floor and peer at the bright outside, now free of the gloom of rain that followed you all the way here, you take in a deep breath. You’re making progress. That’s gotta count for something. <<if $groundroute is true>>[[You step outside.|ground route]]<</if>><<if $flyroute is true>>[[You step outside.|fly route]]<</if>>

You stretch out your arms as you step outside, leaning your back to the side enough that you have to block out the little bit of sunshine that finds your eyes. The sun climbs slowly into the sky before you, but you couldn’t blame yourself if you had assumed otherwise. Clouds break and collide across the blue expanse, making it difficult to tell exactly how far the sun has climbed already. Even still, the sun shoots rays across the city and the rain has stopped altogether, now the only remains of it ever existing being the wet asphalt and the faint smell of it in the air. Perfect day to walk around aimlessly, searching for one person in a city of possibly thousands. <<if $genuine < 50>>You chuckle to yourself. Great.<<else>>You sigh to yourself. Alright.<</if>> You set off soon after, casting one last glance back at the lab behind you as you depart. Right. You mark the location in your phone, intent on remembering where it is for later. One of the only good reasons to have Atlas with you at all times was at least he knew the city layout. You, on the other hand, were figuring it out on the go. You rub at your shoulders a bit. With being alone like this again, it inspires only a bit more confidence that is backhanded with the worry of possible threats ready and waiting for you. <<if $nervous < 50>>You steel your shoulders a bit. You suppose it’ll do no good stressing about the possibilities right now. You’ll just have to deal with them as they come. Freedom is freedom. No matter how temporary. You’ll take it at face value as long as you can. You step deeper into the city. <<else>>You stiffen a bit as you cast your gaze in through the cracks of buildings you can spot from the edge of the lab parking lot. You’re not so sure you won’t find trouble out here again. Or, knowing your luck, that trouble won’t find you. You swallow but step deeper into the city.<</if>> You choose, at first, to follow the route you took via car to the lab first, walking along the sidewalk as you take in your surroundings with clearer eyes. The ground is wet and smells distinctly crisp from the leftover rain, but you still watch your step as you avoid or kick your way through the puddles still lingering and pooling in the cracks and bumps of the road. You actually manage to chuckle a little to yourself. Crappy roads are still the same, no matter what city you travel to. It’s an odd thing to find familiarity in. There are some people still holding umbrellas walking around, most with it clasped to their side, but some with it still up and open, not realizing the rain around them has stopped as they seemingly rush from one place to another. Someone apologizes as they have to squeeze past you. You step to the side a bit. You weren’t given really //any// direction to where to go to find this Venomspitter. You can hardly even look for a single Venomspitter, spotting various people with draconic traits passing you by, all in various forms of transformation fixed to their personal comfort. You eye a young Frostspitter idling in a puddle, kicking at the small bits of ice they’re creating just by sticking their hand in it. <<if $species is "frostspitter">>Hm. Haven’t seen too many of your kin since you’ve entered the city. It’s nice to see them up and about, even if this person is a stranger.<</if>><<if $breathweapon is false>>Your gaze lingers a bit on the clear ice that spreads from their fingers. There’s a pang in your chest. A familiar one. It feels less like something important hurting though, and more like something important //missing//. You frown. Best not to think about that now. Nothing you can do about it.<</if>> Just as soon as you spotted them though, the kid straightens back up and walks off to meld back into the crowd of people without a word. You sigh. So you’re supposed to find a… strawberry backpack in all of this? You pause on the side of the sidewalk, just enough to the side not to get in the way. Atlas isn’t here. You could just… piss off from work for an hour or two, wait until your partner found the item or got too tired to care. No one could stop you. You’d hope no one could watch you. But would that even be better? Or would it be faster to just focus and get this over with? What would be next? You think about it. [[Whatever. This isn’t worth the effort.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[No. I should really make sure I don’t slip up on this.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

Taking off into the air is a lot easier than it seems. As a kid you remember wondering how much effort it really was to force oneself against gravity— to move upwards at such a pace to avoid crashing down altogether. As it turns out, not much effort at all. Your muscles ache at the motion, but you can’t tell if it’s your wings, whining with disuse, or the rest of your body, groaning with the effort. Either way, with one heavy flap of your wings and a high leap for good measure— you’re off. The takeoff from the parking lot gives you enough space to properly move, your instincts kicking in to level off your flight as you flap upwards. The buildings rise beside you as you do, smaller cars and people left behind as you propel yourself upwards. It’s much harder to take off down here, you realize with a start. You had enough room to move, which was a blessing, but the way the patches of discolored buildings rise and shrink in unpredictable patterns around you makes it difficult to gain any ground that isn’t immediately contested by a building or two. Still, you fight upwards, knowing that the moment you reach the open air it will be easier. A particularly tall building stretches high above you, right in the middle of your path, and you strain your wings to continue upwards at a speed that’ll keep you from meeting it. You feel that strain in your chest— in your arms and along your back as you put the pressure on. Up and up. You think for a moment that you won’t make it, that you’ll have to dodge to the side or find another way up. But then you see it. The edge of the horizon. Your narrowed focus tightens more as you put on one last burst of speed, willing yourself to go higher. To move faster. [[And then you breach.|flight start]]

The first thing that hits you is the waft of air that almost cartwheels you backwards. It’s strong, just a gust, but one you weren’t expecting so suddenly after your ascent. But it’s cool. And it adds a draft under your wings that holds you in place for a moment so you can see the way the city stretches out in front of you. It’s… honestly quite stunning. The city is large. You’ve known this. But the expanse in front of you from this height makes it look infinitely smaller in comparison, a pinprick against the ocean that surrounds it. From here, you can make out the scaffolding of the four bridges, long spiked things that rise from the waters and connect this place to the land further away. That doesn’t help the feeling of isolation, like a boat adrift connected by a thin rope to the docks. And the island itself? Well it’s bustling. Even from so high up you can make out the crowds— all the noise. Both in sound and density. How strange is it that you feel so isolated in such a busy place. The most obvious thing that stands before you though isn’t the bridges. It isn’t the small spots of color you see dotting the sky as other shifters move from place to place in the sky among you. It’s the King Institute. [[Next|flight 2]]

The skyscraper is the tallest building in the city. By a large margin. It stretches high up, spearing into the clouds just enough to make it difficult to see the top. The thing sits in the center of the city like a buoy, standing adrift and still amongst the unsettled waves around it. You never noticed how…. particular it looks in comparison to the other buildings though. The tight steel which wraps close to the towering frame of the still beast is free of imperfections, a solid wall of cold metal that spirals upwards as it lurches over the rest of the city. It’s like a sore— an infection stuck right into the center of the land that’s inescapable. Consuming. All-seeing. There’s a name for that. Your wings lurch with the breeze settling around you and you have to right yourself, blinking now at the skyscraper which still is far from you. You could’ve sworn you were closer. You shake your head. Enough of this. You can stare at that building all you want, it won’t make it any less present. You flap a little harder to gain some altitude. You’ll see things a lot clearer if you go up higher. The wind at your wings like this… it’s invigorating. You’re sure you could get away with some indulgent soaring if you wanted up here. [[Fly a little faster. I want to push things a little.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[Keep steady. I have a job to do here.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

Your gaze turns upwards at the grayed clouds above you. You know what? You //can// push it. You want to. It’s not like you have many restrictions up here anyways. The thought of that alone makes your heart pound harder and your senses flare a bit. Freedom. Just a taste. Maybe it’ll make things worse- maybe you’ll end up craving past your limitations, but now? You just want to fly. So you do just that— your body soon following your gaze as you put more effort into your flapping, pushing yourself higher and higher into the air. You’re careful not to stray too far, but the excitement of the moment takes a hold of the rest of your instincts, propelling you into the endless above. As movement goes, you have to push yourself a little more than you’d like but the effort is all worth it once you reach a particularly high point in the sky. There’s a spot you reach in elevation where you feel it become harder to breathe. It’s nothing particularly dangerous, you know you could go a couple more miles upwards with no issue, but it’s enough distance, right below the cloud cover, where it becomes a trigger to your impulses. You glance downwards. It’s a long way down but you don’t have anything to worry about. Not even as you pull your wings taught and folded halfway to your sides, not even as you angle yourself downwards, not even as your body curls over an invisible obstacle only to turn into an arrow going straight downwards. Because you didn’t have to learn this. Not the way your pupils blow wide. Not how every inch of your body alights with the careful mix of gravity and control. You hurtle for a moment, nothing blowing you off your course, before you straighten your wings again, updraft catching you and carrying you upwards again. And as you reach the top once more you tuck in again, repeating the process deeper and deeper each time, until you’re making dive after dive only to catch yourself once more in the fall. It’s not any extreme move, but compared to full humans, you think you’ve got it made. You stretch your wings out again to end the cycle of momentum, simply basking in the rays of sunlight that do manage to catch along your side. If this was your job always, you couldn’t bother to complain. [[Next|flight 3]]

Mm. You don’t think pushing things further than you already have is a good idea. You cast a glance behind you to the city below. You’re already up quite a ways, and even as you flap a bit harder to gain some altitude, you’re quick to steady yourself out within an updraft of warmer air, taking in a deep breath as you do. The air that surrounds you is enough. The breath you breathe right now is enough. This can be enough. It’s more than you could’ve imagined yesterday, that’s for sure. As you soar, you let the wind keep you afloat, flapping softly once or twice to simply keep you from stumbling. It’s calm. It’s light. It’s… frankly it’s pretty nice. All things considered, that is. You take a moment to glance around you, casting a long gaze above and below. There’s somehow both plenty to see and little at all, you note with a restrained huff. No clear view of anyone in particular that you’re supposed to be looking for, the level of scale makes that nearly impossible without a plan, but yet the scene itself awes you. A spread of grays, browns, and blues dot the landscape below you. You can make out flickers of color, little lights on billboards and buildings painted unique colors dashed across the housing districts you can see from here. Things are still a bit muddy, the fog produced by the rain still lifting even now, but you’re not surprised it’s cleared so much already— the clouds have parted enough for the sun to make an appearance. It feels nice against your back. It feels… right. [[Next|flight 3]]

The time passes by slowly and you honestly couldn’t be happier for it. Up here, you’re not spied on. Up here you don’t have as strict of a regulation to follow. And that means that if you see a shadow or two of a few groups of dragons, you’re not too determined to hustle after them. You’re no cop, despite what Reese insists. And you’re sure as hell not gonna bust a bunch of teens for bumping into each other in midair. You take in a deep breath and soar up a bit further, eyeing your surroundings warily. But you can’t pretend you don’t hear the whistling. The noise perplexes you for a moment as you flick your eyes around, trying to spot the origin of the sound as it evades your line of sight just barely. You even glance underneath yourself before flipping your gaze upwards, eyes widening as you see someone flying a good couple of feet above you. Oh. You didn’t even notice them. She’s a little small for a dragon, even though she has very classic traits that denote her as a Venomspitter right away. Warm, soft green, yellow, and brown hues of her scales shine under the peeking light of the sun, her position above you blocking the light from your own eyes. You silently steady out your flying beneath this stranger, taking in the moment as she whistles softly. It’s a tune you can’t recognize. You’re just about to turn your attention away from the odd moment when a slight movement in her otherwise confident flying has you stopped. Not due to her flying— not even her position above you. No. Instead what catches your attention is the bright, fuzzy strawberry backpack wrapped around her back and clasped to the front of her chest. //You have to be fucking kidding me.// [[Next|skye meet]]

No way. No way you’re that lucky. Destined? Doomed? You stare for such a long moment that when the next buffer of wind comes in, you aren’t properly prepared and you struggle to steady yourself again, falling behind the stranger a little. Once you’ve righted yourself once again though, you stop and stare once more. This feels so convenient. Inconvenient? You’re not sure what to make of this perfect alining just yet. Either way, the opportunity has quite literally fallen into your talons, and you would be remiss if you didn’t take the one easy thing handed to you like this. You swallow but don’t move right away, still staring. Strawberry backpack. Venomspitter. Yep— it’s quite literally got to be her. The nerves you remember all too well creep in on you, turning your eyeing of her a little wary. You doubt anyone planned this, even if it’s far too convenient. Atlas only just assigned this and you’ve had enough strange coincidences in the past twenty four hours to start believing in stranger things than this run-in. But still. You know Venomspitters are not to be messed with. Especially not in the sky. You need to be careful about this. It doesn’t look like she’s seen you yet, or at least acknowledged you as a threat, so you have the element of surprise on your side. Beats being on the opposing end for once. You silently stare as you plan how to approach this. [[Whatever. I’m just gonna grab her.|stg fly skye]] [[Sneak attack. Take her off guard.|dex fly skye]] [[No. I need to wait another moment to asses this.|int fly skye]] [[Wait. Maybe I can just talk to her.|cha fly skye]]

<<if $stgadd >=40>>You know that if you hesitate here, she’ll be gone before you can catch up. Right now is your best chance and you’re willing to risk the fangs that may come from it. You’re quick to flap once, snapping up and forwards with a short growl as you extend your forearms and spread your claws. Just capture. Just hold on. And you do just that. Well, sort of. As you pounce in mid-air, the inability to really launch off of anything greatly diminishes the weight behind your tackle. Still, as you rise and rocket towards her, her head suddenly snaps to the side, eyes widening as you close in on her. You narrow in on her, confident as you grow ever closer, but just as quickly as you watch her expression change she’s gone. Fully gone. Your arms swing around nothing and you gasp as the wind around you whips with a type of force that buffets your face //hard//. In the last seconds, your claws grasp around the end of her tail, right before her tail sails, which were spread out evenly before your attack to catch the wind. It’s a moment of blind excitement. //I caught her!// Right before that hope it snatched away from you in another blink of an eye. Well, more like you are snatched away from //it// as the Venomspitter, noticing your attachment, stops her speeding short and uses the momentum to snap you off of her tail as your body buckles forwards and you are sent spiraling ahead of her. “Shit!” You curse as the world around you spins and turns. If you weren’t already prepared for flying the vertigo may have gotten to you. But instead, you allow for your instincts to kick in, the sky righting itself above you as you twist and adjust yourself in the air, gathering yourself for a second before looking for the shifter again. You watch her— or more accurately her tail, disappear below you as she plummets down to the city below. “Shit…” You curse again, this time muttered more as a hefty sigh. It’s always chases in this city.<<else>>You know that if you hesitate here, she’ll be gone before you can catch up. Right now if your best chance and you’re willing to risk the fangs that may come from it. You’re quick to flap once, snapping up and forwards with a short growl as you extend your forearms and spread your claws. Just capture. Just hold on. And you do just that. Well, sort of. As you pounce in mid-air, the inability to really launch off of anything greatly diminishes the weight behind your tackle. Still, as you rise and rocket towards her, her head suddenly snaps to the side, eyes widening as you close in on her. You narrow in on her, confident as you grow ever closer, but just as quickly as you watch her expression change she’s gone. Fully gone. Your arms swing around nothing and you gasp as the wind around you whips with a type of force that buffets your face //hard//. You curse at the air as you are buffeted back a bit, whipping your head back and forth as if to throw off the distraction. When your vision clears, the Venomspitter is gone, a spot of clear sky replacing where she once flew. You glance around wildly, inwardly cursing yourself for losing her so quickly before you spot the sails of her tail disappearing beneath you as she dives for the city. “Shit…” You curse again, this time muttered more as a hefty sigh. It’s always chases in this city.<</if>> [[Next|fly chase start]]

<<if $dexadd >=40>>You're quick to instinctively duck your head down, relying on the wind to keep you afloat and at a distance as you resist from flapping too hard. You recognize the power and control in the way she flies— it's something you have to be careful of. So you hesitate, staying quiet as you plan your next move. The shifter's slight whistling continues unburdened, the tune sliding to you softly as most of it is dragged away by the wind. It is stronger up here, after all. It's a fairly nice tune, not exactly something you'd expect from an active criminal, but the knowledge of that only makes you steel yourself further. You narrow your eyes, flapping once, faintly, as you close in. You don't think you'll be able to fully pry the backpack from her, but maybe you can snatch it off while she isn't paying attention? You'll have to take a shot regardless. You edge just a little closer, intently making your wingbeats quieter as you force yourself to stretch a little farther, push a little further to keep it quiet. It's harder to stay secretive up here. Not without cloud cover. Not under the rapidly brightening day. And it seems the shifter you're pursuing knows just that. A sudden intake of breath and snap of her wings is the only warning you have before the Venomspitter takes off, wings tucked in close in order to dive down towards the city below. “Shit!” You curse as you speed after her. How'd she notice so quickly?<<else>>You try ducking your head down a bit further, eyeing the shifter still whistling above you. She seems pretty capable flying up here, posture relaxed and stable, but that doesn't spell great things for you. Just as you begin thinking of a way to handle this stealthily though there's a sudden change in the air. The breeze picks up a bit and you hold your breath as you have to right yourself in the air, wings twisting about rather wildly to re-correct your course. And she notices. There's a quick gasp, an end to the whistling, and just as suddenly as she had appeared, the Venomspitter is gone, diving right down in front of you towards the city below. “Shit!” You curse loudly as you dive after her.<</if>> [[Next|fly chase start]]

<<if $intadd >=40>>You're quick to settle your nerves and stop yourself from panicking and jumping into action too quickly. Right. You need to be smart about this. Careful. Honestly-- it's the most time you've had to think in advance since you've started this whole... //job//, and the recognition of that has a shiver running down your spine. Right. Be patient. Be wary. What are you looking for? Venomspitter. It's the only thing you know about her. What does that give you besides the obvious? You squint as you analyze things. You obviously have to be careful about the venom, that could be trouble but unless you tangle with her directly you should be safe. She looks very confident up here, capable of where she's going and how to control that. You need to keep that in mind. Something else could be an issue though. You haven't done specific research on it, but you're aware that Venomspitters tend to have a very sensitive sense of awareness. <<if $species is "venomspitter">>You don't think she's aware of you now, but the things you know firsthand about the awareness don't give you a lot of confidence in your secretive approach.<<else>>You don't think she's aware of you now, but the things you've heard about the awareness don't give you a lot of confidence in your secretive approach.<</if>><<if $species is "venomspitter">>Your own experience only makes the situation more complicated. Every Venomspitter has different sensitivities to supposed “danger” around them, and there's no way of knowing how aware this shifter specifically is. Your own senses don't entirely line up with the complicated variation that danger can present itself as in this era. Damn evolutionary tactics.<</if>> You hiss at the complications that crowd your mind. Oh shit. You hear her gasp before you see her move, her body suddenly tucking in and diving towards the city below at your warning. “Shit!” You curse again as you speed after her. Getting caught up in the scenarios of the moment certainly didn't help you here.<<else>>No. Something doesn't sit right with you. You watch the shifter continue whistling for a moment, staying silent as you watch. No no you should get closer-- analyze her movement or something. As you adjust yourself, you make a move to flap closer, only realizing your mistake as you see the Venomspitter's head suddenly perk up. She definitely just heard that. There goes your master ingenuity. And just as quickly as she appeared, she's gone in an instant, tucking in her wings and diving for the city below. “Shit!” You curse as you speed after her.<</if>> [[Next|fly chase start]]

<<if $chaadd >=40>>You don't need to go rushing into this. It's the first time someone isn't instantly running or fighting you, a pretty nice change of pace if you're being honest, and a great opportunity to finally level with someone. You swallow and eye her warily. If she can be leveled with. ”Um... hello miss?“ You start, piping up as you flap up a bit below her, keeping your distance but keeping close enough to keep an eye on her. She's quick to shoot her head from side to side, a jerking motion that reminds you of a small bird. This goes on for a little too long. ”Ah- down here.“ You sigh a little awkwardly. She curls her neck downwards, peering at you from above with wide eyes, staring you down quietly as she waits for you to continue. Right. ”I was just wondering if I could have that backpack? You see, I've been looking for it and I just know the owner would really like to get it back, so if you don't mind...“ You trail off, shaking a talon sideways at her. There's a rather oppressive beat of silence that follows and for a second you begin to doubt yourself. Come on. You didn't fumble anything that badly, did you? “Sorry what?” The shifter asks, tilting her head to the side. Huh? Did she not hear you? “I said- that backpack, I need to get it back to it's owner it's really important-” “Are you a cop?” //Seriously? This again?// You think with a huff. You try not to rush to answer this time though. This could give you the edge you need. Appeal to an authority. Her claws are clasped around the backpack pretty tight. “Ah. Yes, actually. I'm working for the In-” And even before you can finish your sentence she's gone, wings tucked in tight as she dives for the city below. //Literally why do I even try anymore.// You curse as you dive down after her.<<else>>Maybe this doesn't have to be a struggle. You can probably just try to have a quick chat with her-- maybe things will smooth out on their own if you try. You flap a little higher and eye her for a second before opening your mouth. “Hello miss? I'd like to confiscate that backpack please-” She's gone before you can finish your sentence. Oh shit. Oh shit. Of course not of course not. Why would you even think of approaching it like that. You take a second to bury your face in your talons. This is definitely one of the most embarrassing moments from your time in the city yet. You make a mental note not to tell Atlas about this, then quickly scramble out of your thoughts as you move to take a dive in order to follow the Venomspitter as she flies downwards towards the city.<</if>> [[Next|fly chase start]]

Rushing after the Venomspitter means fighting against the wind. It means beating against the breeze that slashes across your vision, tips and sways your flight path, and otherwise does everything in its power to stop such a reckless descent. It's power, it's velocity, and it's //exhilarating//. The excitement has to be pushed to the back of your mind as you chase after the shifter, her brighter scales easier to follow against the duller tones of the city below. But she knows you're there too, and does everything in her power to throw you off. As you speed up, so does she, and as you maneuver she does the same to outwit and out-speed you. The two of you only dive for a minute longer, soon spiraling out into quick cuts of the air as she spins, soars, flaps, and you follow right behind. <<if $dexadd >=40>>You have an easier time with things as you lock your eyes onto the tips of her tail sails, narrowing your focus as you let your instincts and knowledge keep you aloft and close behind.<<else>>Though you're able to keep yourself from being blown back by the sheer force of the winds you move both against and with, the speed and velocity at which she's moving is too complex for you to follow. You may be slower but you're safe. If you can just get a little closer...<</if>> The Venomspitter snaps upwards suddenly, wings pumping as she curls out of her dive and flies straight up. Your eyes follow her for a second, catching your breath as you stare for a second. Is she just trying to throw you off? All this seems like a bit much. [[Next|fly chase 2]]

Still, you follow, pushing yourself to continue even as your muscles scream back in protest. There's something a little further pushing you today, whether it be the desire to prove yourself on your own for once or simply the lurking worry in the back of your mind still leftover from the night before, you push regardless. Push all the way up as the Venomspitter leads you high //high// up, past where even you knew not to tread just yet. And then even further. You watch with wide eyes as she snaps upwards and disappears into the clouds above, a thick layer of fog separating your view of her. There's no other way to catch her without risk. <<if $nervous > 50>>ou swallow back the nerves that make your talons shake and fly upwards with eyes clenched closed.<<else>>You don't need to steel yourself for long— you know that you can handle this. You fly up into the cloud cover without another thought.<</if>> As you hit the clouds, you are overwhelmed all at once with a particularly sudden chill.<<if $species is "frostspitter">>It doesn't take much for you to simply move past the feeling, huffing once to kickstart the chill within your own body.<<else>>It's nothing long-lasting, but the slick haze the rain leaves on your skin has you shivering before you escape them.<</if>> There is a moment where everything around you is a hazy gray and blue, and for a small instant, you worry that up here you won't be able to find the way back down. Are you right side up? Upside down? Facing the wrong way? [[It all clears as you burst from the cloud cover.]]

The first thing you spot is the shifter you're pursuing, paused right above the clouds staring off to the horizon beside her. You flap once to get closer to her, but her own hesitance cuts you off before you can pounce right away. What... What is she looking at? She seems almost entranced by whatever it is, and in a moment of confusion, you glance over. Maybe it's a moment of weakness. Maybe it's a brilliant distraction. But you turn your head all the same. And you find yourself incredibly grateful that you did. The scene lying in front of you could be confused with a picturesque field. You're shocked to see a puffy layer of pink and golden orange light lain over the tops of the clouds, a far cry from the darker bottoms of the same clouds now a few feet below you. The sun's rays catch the clouds as they move and shift, the soft light casting upon you in slow, rolling waves as the clouds themselves perfectly lie out in miles all around you. It's... well it's impossibly beautiful. And it feels so very //right// as you splay your wings out and just stare. One of the things that strikes you the most as you hover, claws lightly lining a trail in the clouds as you move, is just how quiet it is. In moments like these, you'd almost expect some kind of fanfare for the breathtaking view in front of you. But no. It's just soft. It's just calm. It's just right. You manage to blink out of your trance to look ahead of you, catching the Venomspitter's expression as she stares at the view as well. She looks... well she looks honestly starstruck by the view as well. Does she not see this that often either? Then, just as suddenly, you watch her frills twitch as she snaps her gaze to you, widened gaze turning nervous as she blinks at you. You don't have the chance to move before she just as quickly dives down again, leaving the sun behind. You shake your head to refocus and follow down. [[Next|fly chase 3]]

You rush after the shifter as she flees, getting inches from her before she tucks in tighter and manages to narrowly escape. <<if $breathweapon is true>>You briefly consider if using your breath weapon would give you any edge here, but the thought is quickly dismissed as you remember the backpack she holds tightly clenched between her claws. This better all be worth it.<</if>> As you two speed off, you watch her take a sharp turn towards a high radio tower posed on top of another skyscraper, a few adolescent Lightningspitters scattering at the quick movement from their perches to avoid the encounter. You, however, dive in closer, gritting your teeth as she spins around it. Another odd and complicated tactic to get you off of her tail, no doubt. With the size of the tower, you both end up spinning around it, you chasing right behind as you both turn upside down to race downwards. It's a bit dizzying of a sight as you take longer and longer turns, catching sight of the Venomspitter as she suddenly locks eyes with you between the bones of the tower, wind whipping between you both as you pick up momentum. Deep, green eyes lock onto yours as she stares at you for a moment, seemingly uninterested in her flight altogether as she gives you a bewildered look. Then, without warning, it slowly turns into an excited but small smile. You stare back at her, focused on maneuvering your own flight but now struck but this odd expression as her eyes only seem to glimmer in the light. She looks a bit harried but very much sane-- a look that would worry you in any other context if it didn't look so //genuine//. She loves this. [[I smile back.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[I stare at her in confusion.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

You smile back, confused exhilaration pumping through you as the both of you continue to spin and wind close against the tower. In that moment the ridiculousness of the situation really hits you as well as the excitement. It's a cocktail of adrenaline and wonder that can only really be inspired by the high elevation and the freedom of it all, and you know the shifter across from you must feel the same as she suddenly throws her head back and //laughs//. It's a bright, sunny thing that stuns you even more, a shock out of the dull gray hues of the city that overwhelms you until you have no choice but to laugh back, a softer, more bewildered sound that only encourages her as she looks back to you with that wide, genuine smile again. You blink back at her for another moment before she shoots to the side, narrowly avoiding hitting the top of the building and you follow, a shiver running through you as you take off after her. She dives again down the side of the skyscraper, letting out a long and exhilarating howl as she does. Your smile breaks out even further as the infectious feeling of the moment gets to you and you howl after her, the wind whipping at your face reminding you of how welcoming the breeze can really be as you plummet further and further. You continue to follow her, even as the chase takes on a very different vibe from what it started as, as she winds back up and towards the more crowded cluster of skyscrapers. [[Next|fly chase end]]

You stare at her in confusion, taken aback by her sudden change in attitude. It's practically impossible to wrap your head around, even as the adrenaline pumps through you. How is she so carefree about this even as you chase her down? You don't get an answer though, as she just as quickly pulls out of the spiraling fall, diving once again towards the city as she avoids the edge of the rooftop. You suck in a breath and follow, casting one glance behind you as you just narrowly miss the concrete top. But you still follow, even as the Venomspitter lets out a loud 'whoop' as she hurtles downwards again. Is she this excited to be chased? Or just this excited to fly? What's stopping you from experiencing this same excitement? The thoughts are banished with a flick of your head as you keep applying pressure, following her as she winds back up and towards the more crowded cluster of skyscrapers. [[Next|fly chase end]]

As you both ascend once again, you keep a careful eye on the distance between you and the towering buildings. It's easier when you're above them, but with all of the dives the two of you have been taking, it's far closer and cuts too deep in-between these skyscrapers than you're comfortable with. You have to be extra careful with your awareness of your surroundings, <<if $dexadd >=40>>and thankfully for you, it comes a bit more naturally.<<else>>keeping most of your energy focused on how you execute your turns and speed.<</if>> It seems natural to the Venomspitter ahead of you, who seems to almost take a leading position as you both fly between the large buildings. You don't dare try to look inside the windows. You spot the issue before either of you reach it, however. A large skyscraper, possibly the second largest behind the Institute itself, stretches on ahead of you, a place you're about to get intimately familiar with if you don't pull away in time. But the shifter ahead of you keeps flying, continues to put on the pressure you don't have faith in, and from her display earlier, you don't trust her not to have faith in herself. She's going to run right into it. You watch with wide eyes as she pulls up, attempting to scale the beast of a building, and challenges it head on, something drawing her to continue that you cannot see. You pull a little to the side and spot a sliver of an exit between two large rods at the top of the building she lurches towards. Is this really worth it to follow-through? Regardless of your own skills, you worry less and less every minute up here that you're being watched. You could just... let her go. [[Let her go.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[Fly after her.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $skyerelationshippos = 60>><<set $skyerelationshipneg = 100>><<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>You don't owe the Institute anything. Hardly this. If they have eyes up here-- so be it. You don't want to be responsible for more people and you hardly can manage to be responsible for a person who seems so intent on recklessness. You idle your wings a bit, slowing your momentum as you begin to push the breaks. Seems like the shifter has the same idea. Just as you begin to slow down, the Venomspitter reaches the top and very suddenly jerks to a stop, panicking at the last minute as in her struggle to stop herself before she hits, she backs into you, fully crashing the two of you together as you are instantaneously tangled with her. You hear her yell in the panic<<if $expressive > 50>> and you do the same<</if>>, the two of you tumbling downwards as you brace against the wind that now roars in your ears, far different from the soft whistling you embraced higher up in the clouds. For a second you are spinning, the world tilting and twirling around you like some malicious game, turning your stomach upside-down right as you turn right-side up. It's dizzying. It's overwhelming. It's over quite honestly faster than you expect it to. With a loud wheeze, cry, and slam, the two of you hit and roll against harsh gravel, the tumbling separating you both as you go sliding a couple feet. It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, head dizzy and world still spinning far faster than you'd like as you cough and sputter back to reality. <<if $blindeye is true>>You close your good eye to ease the vertigo.<</if>> As your environment finally stops spinning, the pain kicks in, flaring in your muscles and all along your back. You groan as you raise yourself, still shifted, and shake out your head, groggily blinking back the headache. [[Next|skye crash]]

<<set $skyerelationshippos = 60>><<set $skyerelationshipneg = 100>>You... don't owe the Institute anything. They're hardly to be trusted. But you know that not working with them is fighting the ocean's tide. You're bound to be dragged down, beaten, drowned in all the ways possible and even up here you know it rains. This one scenario may not be so severe, but you're more than cautious with these people. You huff out a breath and put on more speed as you flap upwards again, ignoring the pains that arise from it and continue to chase down the Venomspitter. It seems she doesn't quite agree with you. With a sudden flap of her wings, the shifter ahead of you violently jerks back, letting out a small yelp as she chickens out at the last minute before the top, flapping backwards and straight into you. You are quickly shot backwards, now tangled with her as you both begin to fall. You hear her yell in the panic<<if $expressive > 50>> and you do the same<</if>>, the two of you tumbling downwards as you brace against the wind that now roars in your ears, far different from the soft whistling you embraced higher up in the clouds. For a second you are spinning, the world tilting and twirling around you like some malicious game, turning your stomach upside-down right as you turn right-side up. It's dizzying. It's overwhelming. It's over quite honestly faster than you expect it to. With a loud wheeze, cry, and slam, the two of you hit and roll against harsh gravel, the tumbling separating you both as you go sliding a couple feet. It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, head dizzy and world still spinning far faster than you'd like as you cough and sputter back to reality. <<if $blindeye is true>>You close your good eye to ease the vertigo.<</if>> As your environment finally stops spinning, the pain kicks in, flaring in your muscles and all along your back. You groan as you raise yourself, still shifted, and shake out your head, groggily blinking back the headache. [[Next|skye crash]]

As soon as you've recognized the intensity of your landing, you're quick to check yourself for any outstanding wounds, cautiously making sure you're on stable ground all the while. You've landed on a tall rooftop stuck somewhere below the skyscraper the two of you fell from, and as you check yourself, you raise your head, letting out a breath as you realize how close you were to not hitting the roof at all. You'd be falling for a lot longer if that were the case. You swallow. <<if $expressive > 50>>You take another second to check yourself, at one point worriedly checking your pulse before recognizing the ridiculousness of the move and quickly turning to look for your companion.<<else>>You shake off the remainder of your worries, setting your features to a rigid state as you spin around to search for your tumbling companion.<</if>> The other shifter is lying flat on her back, head tilted upwards and claws still clenched tightly around the backpack. You stare from her to the backpack as you shift back. Maybe you could take it now while she's distracted? You don't even get the opportunity as she suddenly and rather violently bursts out laughing. <<if hasVisited("I stare at her in confusion.")>>Oh this again.<</if>> The Venomspitter cackles through her gasping breaths, shaking and rolling on the ground as she laughs herself into hysterics and shifts back to human. It's honestly a little alarming, but the moment passes as she just as suddenly sits up, locking eyes with you with a bright, unhurried smile on her face. [[Next|skye greet]]

Up this close, you can more easily make out her features. What you first note about her are her fangs, long daggers that peek from her lips even as she shifts entirely back to human. Her sepia skin is speckled with dark freckles, a green cropped hoodie covering a black undershirt while she draws up a pair of prosthetic legs that seem covered with all sorts of bright and irregular stickers that your mind can't make sense of at the moment. As she curls up, your attention snaps back to her face, deep green eyes locking with yours as she rides out the last of her laughing fit. She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and properly sits up, gathering her breath as she opens her mouth to speak. ”Wow you're gorgeous!” Huh? [[“Um... thanks.“][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Why say that?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Could you have watched where you were flying?”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[I freeze up. How am I supposed to react to this? (♡)][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Could say the same for you.” (♡)][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

“Um... thanks.“ You respond a bit awkwardly, giving her a small but polite smile. Very odd timing but you can't say you're too upset about the warm welcome. The shifter seems to come to her senses a moment after, eyebrows rising as she rights herself and thrusts a hand forwards. ”Oh- sorry! I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.]]<</if>>

“Why say that?” You cough out, fixing her with a weird look. It's not that the compliment isn't appreciated it's just... a little sudden. You suck in another breath, wincing as you move your shoulder around a little. Sudden and a little unaware of the situation. ”Oh- sorry! I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” She corrects, thrusting a hand forwards. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.]]<</if>>

“Could you have watched where you were flying?” You hiss at her, narrowing your eyes as you keep your distance. You don't move too close just yet though, still wary of the sharp fangs that protrude from her upper lips. Is that some kind of intimidation tactic? ”Oh- sorry! I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” She replies, practically ignoring your aggression in exchange for a hand thrusted forwards. Oh. Okay weird. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.]]<</if>>

<<set $skyeromance =+1>>You pause and fix her with a look for a second. Gorgeous? You grin, glancing over her for a moment. Alright. You won't complain about this sudden turn. “Could say the same for you.” You hum back, leaning forwards a bit as you stifle a bit of a laugh. You see her reaction instantly, a change from surprise to embarrassment to glee all in a matter of seconds, her expression lit up as her face flushes at your words. You feel a little warmer too as she bashfully ducks her head for a moment before she shakes her head and delivers you another bright smile. “Ah- thanks so much! I uh-” She pauses, scratching at a spot on her face before suddenly sitting up higher as if remembering something. “Oh shoot! Sorry- I'm Skye! Nice Nice to meetcha!” She thrusts a hand forwards and you smile a little, returning to the task at hand. Right. Work to do... or whatever. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.]]<</if>>

<<set $snick to true>>Well, nothing wrong with a friendly introduction. You'd give anything for a more pleasant interaction nowadays. She doesn't seem quite dangerous enough for you to worry about either. Or maybe that's just a ploy. “I'm $nickname, nice to meet you too.” You reply with a small quirked smile in return. You take her hand and shake it as she offers you a bright smile in return <<if $prostheticarm is false>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>, jumping only slightly at the chill of your hand<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>, jumping only slightly at the warmth of your hand<</if>><</if>><<if $prostheticarm is true>>, her eyes jumping down to study your prosthetic arm<<if $proesthetic is "both arms">>s<</if>> for a moment before her smile softens into something more genuine<</if>>. <<if $kind < 50>>“That backpack doesn't belong to you.” You start, narrowing your eyes at her. Back to business. Better to get this out of the way.<<else>> “That backpack belongs to someone else, by the way.” You start, trying to ease the conversation in slowly. There's no need to scare her off again.<</if>> “Oh I know!” She replies, chipper as always as she sits up to attention. You pause. Huh? “You... know?” “Yeah- I was just looking for her!” She answers as she reaches up to adjust a light green baseball cap on top of her tightly curled hair. You pause and look at her. “Wh-wait really?” She nods. “Yep! I thought getting a higher view would help, I'm not super familiar with the city's layout.” She explains while fiddling with one of the backpack's straps. “The owner left the backpack with me and when she got back just started yelling at me...” She lets out a puff of air as she rolls her shoulders, recalling the story enough to explain. “I don't know why she got so aggressive. I wasn't gonna do anything. But she spooked me so...” She trails off, distracting herself with the backpack again as she runs her hands over it and avoids your eye. Weird. Just out of the blue got aggressive? “Did you... do anything to provoke her?” You ask. Skye hesitates on this point. “I mean... not really. I was just down the block looking at some graffiti, that's all!” Oh. [[Next|skye join]]

Well, nothing wrong with a friendly introduction. You'd give anything for a more pleasant interaction nowadays. She doesn't seem quite dangerous enough for you to worry about either. Or maybe that's just a ploy. “I'm $name, nice to meet you too.” You reply with a small quirked smile in return. You take her hand and shake it as she offers you a bright smile in return <<if $prostheticarm is false>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>, jumping only slightly at the chill of your hand<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>, jumping only slightly at the warmth of your hand<</if>><</if>><<if $prostheticarm is true>>, her eyes jumping down to study your prosthetic arm<<if $proesthetic is "both arms">>s<</if>> for a moment before her smile softens into something more genuine<</if>>. <<if $kind < 50>>“That backpack doesn't belong to you.” You start, narrowing your eyes at her. Back to business. Better to get this out of the way.<<else>> “That backpack belongs to someone else, by the way.” You start, trying to ease the conversation in slowly. There's no need to scare her off again.<</if>> “Oh I know!” She replies, chipper as always as she sits up to attention. You pause. Huh? “You... know?” “Yeah- I was just looking for her!” She answers as she reaches up to adjust a light green baseball cap on top of her tightly curled hair. You pause and look at her. “Wh-wait really?” She nods. “Yep! I thought getting a higher view would help, I'm not super familiar with the city's layout.” She explains while fiddling with one of the backpack's straps. “The owner left the backpack with me and when she got back just started yelling at me...” She lets out a puff of air as she rolls her shoulders, recalling the story enough to explain. “I don't know why she got so aggressive. I wasn't gonna do anything. But she spooked me so...” She trails off, distracting herself with the backpack again as she runs her hands over it and avoids your eye. Weird. Just out of the blue got aggressive? “Did you... do anything to provoke her?” You ask. Skye hesitates on this point. “I mean... not really. I was just down the block looking at some graffiti, that's all!” Oh. [[Next|skye join]]

<<set $snick to true>>You're not exactly jazzed enough to shake this strangers hand after everything that just happened, but the polite nature of the exchange is harder to turn down, especially after so many hours of repeated conflict. “I'm $nickname.” You reply simply with a nod, glancing down at her hand only for a moment before returning your gaze back to her face. She doesn't even falter for a second, tucking her hand back to clench at the backpack still strapped around her. <<if $prostheticarm is true>>You do, however, catch her eyes flitting to your prosthetic arm<<if $prosthetic is "both arms">>s<</if>> for a moment, something about her posture relaxing somewhat.<</if>> <<if $kind < 50>>“That backpack doesn't belong to you.” You start, narrowing your eyes at her. Back to business. Better to get this out of the way.<<else>> “That backpack belongs to someone else, by the way.” You start, trying to ease the conversation in slowly. There's no need to scare her off again.<</if>> “Oh I know!” She replies, chipper as always as she sits up to attention. You pause. Huh? “You... know?” “Yeah- I was just looking for her!” She answers as she reaches up to adjust a light green baseball cap on top of her tightly curled hair. You pause and look at her. “Wh-wait really?” She nods. “Yep! I thought getting a higher view would help, I'm not super familiar with the city's layout.” She explains while fiddling with one of the backpack's straps. “The owner left the backpack with me and when she got back just started yelling at me...” She lets out a puff of air as she rolls her shoulders, recalling the story enough to explain. “I don't know why she got so aggressive. I wasn't gonna do anything. But she spooked me so...” She trails off, distracting herself with the backpack again as she runs her hands over it and avoids your eye. Weird. Just out of the blue got aggressive? “Did you... do anything to provoke her?” You ask. Skye hesitates on this point. “I mean... not really. I was just down the block looking at some graffiti, that's all!” Oh. [[Next|skye join]]

You're not exactly jazzed enough to shake this strangers hand after everything that just happened, but the polite nature of the exchange is harder to turn down, especially after so many hours of repeated conflict. “I'm $name.” You reply simply with a nod, glancing down at her hand only for a moment before returning your gaze back to her face. She doesn't even falter for a second, tucking her hand back to clench at the backpack still strapped around her. <<if $prostheticarm is true>>You do, however, catch her eyes flitting to your prosthetic arm<<if $prosthetic is "both arms">>s<</if>> for a moment, something about her posture relaxing somewhat.<</if>> <<if $kind < 50>>“That backpack doesn't belong to you.” You start, narrowing your eyes at her. Back to business. Better to get this out of the way.<<else>> “That backpack belongs to someone else, by the way.” You start, trying to ease the conversation in slowly. There's no need to scare her off again.<</if>> “Oh I know!” She replies, chipper as always as she sits up to attention. You pause. Huh? “You... know?” “Yeah- I was just looking for her!” She answers as she reaches up to adjust a light green baseball cap on top of her tightly curled hair. You pause and look at her. “Wh-wait really?” She nods. “Yep! I thought getting a higher view would help, I'm not super familiar with the city's layout.” She explains while fiddling with one of the backpack's straps. “The owner left the backpack with me and when she got back just started yelling at me...” She lets out a puff of air as she rolls her shoulders, recalling the story enough to explain. “I don't know why she got so aggressive. I wasn't gonna do anything. But she spooked me so...” She trails off, distracting herself with the backpack again as she runs her hands over it and avoids your eye. Weird. Just out of the blue got aggressive? “Did you... do anything to provoke her?” You ask. Skye hesitates on this point. “I mean... not really. I was just down the block looking at some graffiti, that's all!” Oh. [[Next|skye join]]

“So it's just a big misunderstanding.” You sigh, running a hand down your face as you realize the ridiculousness of the situation. “She gave you something to watch and you just... wandered off with it?” Skye at least has the decency to look a bit ashamed at that. She slowly nods, catching your eye for a moment before looking away again, looking very much akin to a scolded child. You sigh again. “Whatever. I don't think that's a crime or anything.” You've seen enough of the justice system in this city to not really be //that// motivated to bring someone in. Besides, she really didn't do anything wrong. “I probably should get that back to its owner though. My partner knows how to do that.” You shrug your shoulders. More hoops to jump through at this hour definitely didn't sound like the most fun, but it beat getting well... beat. ”Oh perfect! I'll come with you!” Skye smiles, snapped back now to her original state. It's almost dizzying how quick her positive attitude comes back. You hesitate for a second. Do you really want another person to look after right now? [[Yes. No harm in company for a short journey.]] [[No. I need all the peace and quiet I can get.]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>“Ah- sure. Why not? Just... stay close alright?” You reply. You don't see the harm in a little company. She seems very sweet, if a little... easily distracted. It probably won't be a long trip anyways. “Really?” Skye exclaims loudly, jumping up from her seated position as if the crash never bothered her at all. “Oh thank you thank you thank you! You won't regret it!” Your eyes widen a bit at her excitement. What did you do? She's acting like you just spared her life, not simply allowed her to join up with you. But you hardly feel like complaining. You stand with a slight wince and stretch your shoulders, shooting Atlas a quick text about your status. He sends you another back quickly and gives you directions to a place to meet up at. Back to the lab. Not a surprise. Turning back to Skye, you give her a quick nod as she grins at you and shape-shifts to her Venomspitter form, wings flared and ready to go. “Alright, let's go.” [[Next|fly opinion]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos -=10)>>“Wh- no way.” You frown. You came here for one thing and one thing only, not a babysitting job. Because with the puppy-dog eyes Skye's giving you, it certainly feels like babysitting. Or at least just a handful. More than you need right now, regardless. Skye visibly droops, eyes widening as she frowns and sighs loudly. Is she... pouting? By everything almighty. “Pleassse? I promise I won't get in your way, I just want to get this back to the owner!” She pleads, scooting closer to you as she does. You scoot back. Is she really...? [[Fine. If only to stop her begging.]] [[No way. This only proves my point.]]

You visibly roll your eyes and let out a frustrated huff of air. You don't have the will or the time to deal with this, and besides, if her tight clutching of the backpack is any indication, she wouldn't be as willing to part with it if you used force. <<if $stgadd >=40>>You kind of doubt she could overpower you though.<</if>> “Just- tsk. Fine. Whatever.” You hiss, throwing her a quick look. “Just don't make this a big deal. I just need to get this done, alright?” Skye nods towards you appreciatively, pout wiped from her face as a beaming smile replaces it. She giddily jumps to her feet, blurting out a quick laugh before she hugs the backpack tighter to her. “Of course! You won't regret this! Let's go!” She nods, suddenly shifting to her Venomspitter form as she takes a running dive off of the rooftop. Your eyes widen as you run to the edge but don't follow, watching unbelievably as she makes for the city. “I didn't even-” You try shouting after her but cut yourself off with a loud groan. “She doesn't even know where she's going she-” You lean your head back to suffocate another long-suffering groan that dies in your chest before you laugh dryly to yourself. //You// don't even know where you're going. You pull out your phone, shooting Atlas a quick text about your status. He sends you another back quickly and gives you directions to a place to meet up at. Back to the lab. Not a surprise. Whatever. Time to go. [[Next|fly opinion]]

Her determination only serves to frustrate you further as you hiss to yourself, narrowing your eyes at her. Is she really continuing to press this? And with such a childish angle? “Not a chance.” You affirm, standing with a slight hiss as you rotate your shoulder a bit to throw off the lingering pains. “I'm not here to drag another person around. Just hand over the backpack and-” Skye suddenly snatches back the backpack, fixing you with a determined stare as she sits, arms gripped tight around the object as she frowns at you with a furrowed brow. You snatch your hand back, staring right back at her with a bit of surprise. Where'd this sudden turn come from? “No. I want to return this to the owner, that's it.” She states, letting out a huff through her nose as she shakes her head. “I should be allowed that, if anything.” You stare at her for another moment, incredulous. Where was all this seriousness just a moment ago? You laugh once, a surprised and annoyed thing that dies on your tongue as it turns sour. You can't believe this. Actually, you very much can believe this. “You know what- fine.” You scoff, glaring back at her as you put your hands on your hips. “I'll drag you back to my partner and //you// can explain to him what you're doing.” At least if you hoist this issue back on Atlas, you know he'd take it. The one good thing about loyal attack dogs is they don't know when to quit. You'll just make this journey quick. “Yes! Oh my gosh thank you so much you won't regret it I swear I swear-” Skye laughs, demeanor switching in seconds back to her previous persona as she jumps back up, backpack still clung close to her body as she shakes her body out and shape-shifts back into her Venomspitter form. She fixes you with a genuine smile that is a little too pointy for your liking, and gives you a quick nod. “So where to?” Ah. You forgot. You pull out your phone, shooting Atlas a quick text about your status. He sends you another back quickly and gives you directions to a place to meet up at. Back to the lab. Not a surprise. You turn back to Skye. “Follow me.” [[Next|fly opinion]]

The trip back down to the lab is nowhere near the heart-pounding excitement you were a part of on your way up, and you're better for it, the ride down and back a more familiar and calming journey. As you lead the way back further down, the sky, ever expanding above you, becomes ever smaller, the buildings surrounding you stretching now not below you— but instead high above you like arms stretching out to reach a horizon you no longer can touch. Skye seems to notice it too, falling in line a bit beside you as you two float down. “Do you fly a lot?” She asks, another too-genuine question pivoted towards you in a way you can't help but answer honestly. “No.” You had many more opportunities before coming here, after all. This place closes in on you. The towering buildings look a little too similar to teeth. “Do you like flying?” She asks again. This answer you have to think of more before you can respond. [[“I used to hate it.”]] [[“It's just flying.”]] [[“I love it.”]]

“I used to hate it.” You confess with a small huff. You don't make eye contact as you carefully maneuver your wings, cautiously making your way further down even as the wind buffets your side less and less. “It's taken me some getting used to.” You add after a pause. It's not exactly the best scenario to spill your guts to this stranger, so you more or less end the conversation there, but the thought sticks with you. Flying, thankfully, comes a bit more naturally to you and other shifters. That never meant that it was easy. Nor was it free of baggage. Flying means awareness, after all. People's awareness of you, high above them. Awareness of yourself, shifted into another form. <<if $dragonpride is true>>You like what you are. You have to in order to survive. But that doesn't mean you're ignorant of your safety.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>Shifting will never be not complicated for you. It's just a matter of making it to the ground, right?<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>It takes a lot, even now, not to fully block out what you are right now.<</if>> You take a deep breath and focus back in on correcting your posture. Skye, surprisingly, doesn't reply right away, considering your words. It's a brief moment of quiet that you're grateful for as you both inch closer to your destination. “I hope you can enjoy it more sometime. There's enough space.” She offers. You reply with a quick and short laugh. You wish it was just about space. The nuance is lost between the air between you. [[Next|group re-meet]]

“It's just flying.” You reply. It comes out a bit snappier than you intended but the question... doesn't sit completely right with you. Are you supposed to feel some kind of way about it? Is that a leading question? Is she asking for something more? <<if $kind > 50>>“Sorry. I think it's just... it's just me.” You shrug, trying to walk back some of the unintentional aggression. Skye notices and gives you a smile, freckles on her scales stretching to accommodate the grin. You give her a quieter one back. It's just you. <<if hasVisited("Ask him about his dragon features.")>>You can't help but remember Reese's similar words back at the bar.<</if>> The knowledge doesn't settle quietly in your gut. But it's not a horrible feeling either.<<else>>“It's just me- I mean.” You correct, trying to relax the stiffness which accumulated quickly at your shoulders. The unfortunate thing about flying is you need to be pretty considerate of your own body the whole time. Skye seems to consider your words, but she doesn't respond. That's probably for the best. You could already feel your hackles raising a bit at the defensive position you had to take so quickly. It's just you, after all. <<if hasVisited("Ask him about his dragon features.")>>You can't help but remember Reese's similar words back at the bar.<</if>> You sigh and it feels like it lifts something a bit.<</if>> [[Next|group re-meet]]

<<if $expressive > 50>>“I love it.” You reply with a smile.<<else>>”I love it.“ You confess with a sigh.<</if>> You wouldn't consider the sky your 'second home' or anything, such a feat seems impossible, but it's a place that has never turned you away. It neither pulls you nor pushes you. It just is, and that alone is more freedom than you've felt in a long time. So why wouldn't you enjoy it? There's something almost magical about flying. The care you need to take of how you position yourself comes almost entirely naturally. It's instinct. It's wind. It's breath. And you can't get enough of it. <<if $dragonfear is true>>You really wish it didn't have to come with such a high cost, though.<</if>> Skye laughs a little besides you but it's not too loud. “Yeah. I agree.” She replies with a little twinkle in her eyes. You glance back at her. Did you give something away in your expression? [[Next|group re-meet]]

You arrive back in the same parking lot shortly after that, shifting back as soon as you touch down. Skye follows after you, shaking herself out as she shifts to human and stretches out before hopping after you, looking much like she hadn't been involved in a chase in the first place. Outside the lab stands Atlas, Reese, and Puck, the last of which is still clad in their white lab coat which is slung across their shoulders as they share a murmured conversation with Reese. Atlas glances up at your approach and squints at the new arrival. “It was a misunderstanding.” You're quick to cut in as you walk up. Reese and Puck look over now too. “The person just left her with the backpack and she got spooked, she's been looking for-” “Oh my gosh hi! I'm Skye it's so nice to meet you!” Your company suddenly interrupts, quickly rushing up to greet the rest of the group. She's quick to shake hands with Atlas, pulling his hand forwards and only jumping a little at the chill before she goes down the line, rambling excited words all the while. Atlas stares down at his hand and back up at you. He glares. [[I offer him an apologetic smile.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[I offer him a shit-eating grin.][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos -=10)>>Ha ha. Take that asshole. You give Atlas a wide grin, eyeing him down just as brazenly as he narrows his eyes further and finally scoffs as he turns his attention to the more pressing matter. You internally pat yourself on the back. Maybe having Skye around won't be so troublesome after all. You focus back on the conversation now at hand. “What's your guys' names? Is this a crew of some kind? Oh my gosh do you guys have cool callsigns? Like cool nicknames? Oh holy- wait do you guys have a group name? Like a band name but for a crew?” You can only watch in wonder as Skye continues to ramble, throwing out a frenzy of words that has even you taking a step back to avoid being overwhelmed by it. The others aren't as lucky, caught between the whirlwind of activity as Puck offers her a confused but polite smile and Reese snatches his hand back before she can shake it, staring at her owlishly. “I always thought I'd be so cool to be in a crew! What do you guys do? Fight evil? Stop crime? //Start// crime?” She laughs, trying and failing to elbow Atlas, who steps away to your side instead, looking now a little... overwhelmed? Are you seeing that right? “<<if $rnick is true>>$nickname<<else>>$name<</if>> what the fuck is going on?” Reese hisses, glaring over to you as he tries to ignore the rapidly increasing whirlpool that is Skye's questions. [[Next|skye group intro]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos +=10)>>Oh gosh. You really don't need this pinned on you right now. You shrug your shoulders at him and give him an apologetic smile, rubbing at the back of your neck as you try to softly laugh off the accusatory glare. You don't think you could've gotten Skye off of your tail if you gave it your all. Certainly he can see that. The ice from Atlas's stare dulls as he sighs and pulls his attention away from you, a welcome and surprising reprieve that is appreciated as you focus back on the conversation. “What's your guys' names? Is this a crew of some kind? Oh my gosh do you guys have cool callsigns? Like cool nicknames? Oh holy- wait do you guys have a group name? Like a band name but for a crew?” You can only watch in wonder as Skye continues to ramble, throwing out a frenzy of words that has even you taking a step back to avoid being overwhelmed by it. The others aren't as lucky, caught between the whirlwind of activity as Puck offers her a confused but polite smile and Reese snatches his hand back before she can shake it, staring at her owlishly. “I always thought I'd be so cool to be in a crew! What do you guys do? Fight evil? Stop crime? //Start// crime?” She laughs, trying and failing to elbow Atlas, who steps away to your side instead, looking now a little... overwhelmed? Are you seeing that right? “<<if $rnick is true>>$nickname<<else>>$name<</if>> what the fuck is going on?” Reese hisses, glaring over to you as he tries to ignore the rapidly increasing whirlpool that is Skye's questions. [[Next|skye group intro]]

“She didn't mean to steal anything. She just wants to help bring the backpack back to the owner, then...” You roll a hand and prompt Skye to finish your thought. It seems to finally school her back into normalcy, if just for a second. She rights herself and gives you a salute and a nod, an odd gesture that would otherwise be condescending if it wasn't just... genuine. It's a very spooky demeanor to have in a place such as this that seems determined to tear that from people. “Yes! Sorry yeah! I wanted to apologize to the owner in person, I can help cover any costs too- whatever I can!” She follows up, filling in the blanks of your explanation. Puck gives her a glance then another to Atlas, shrugging their shoulders. “Couldn't hurt, right?” They offer. Atlas doesn't react right away, now trying to hide a nervous tap to his leg. “Wait, what are you doing out here anyways?” You pipe up, nodding over to Puck. They're still in uniform, why step outside with the rest of the group? The scientist smiles a bit to themselves than rather bashfully shakes their head. “I uh- honestly I was a bit hungry. About to step out anyways for lunch.” [[Next|lunch debate]]

“Lunch?” Skye interrupts again, suddenly looking with rapt attention between the group. You can basically hear her stomach grumble. “Not a chance. We don't even know who you are, and now you wanna go get... what, //lunch// with us?” Reese scoffs, shaking his head as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I'm pretty sure Atlas eats rocks anyway.” <<if $expressive > 50>>You stifle a laugh at that.<</if>> The taller man opens his mouth to respond but before he can, Puck interrupts him to edge a word in. ”I mean the company would be nice. I'm sure you've all had a rough day.” They reason with that same soft smile. Skye smiles up at them like they're heaven sent. You try to ignore your own rumbling stomach. You fail. This all seems… rather fast but hasn’t everything else moved at this pace since you’ve arrived? You’re not one to hope it’d change by now. May as well get a free lunch out of it in the meantime. [[“I could eat! Let's get somewhere close.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Whatever- can we just find someplace close?”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“I could eat! Let's get somewhere close.” You say, taking a deep breath as you try and collectively snap the group to a decision. Atlas raises a brow at you but finally shrugs, seemingly too busy working out this new temporary member to bother stopping you. “There's a good sandwich place just down the block I go to, shouldn't be a long trip.” Puck offers, raising their head in a slight nod before leading the way away from the lab. You hear Reese groan and follow as Atlas picks up the pace as well. Skye gives you a bright smile and leads up the rear. You take a moment to glance up at the lab as you leave it, eyeing it warily as you leave. It's nowhere near as bad as the Institute building itself, but something about it doesn't sit right with you either. It's time to go. You... [[Walk beside Atlas]] [[Walk beside Puck]] [[Walk beside Reese]] [[Walk beside Skye]] [[Walk behind everyone]]

“Whatever- can we just find someplace close?” You say, rolling your hand as if that would get people to the point faster. Your stomach practically hurts now, you don't want to wait any longer than you have to. Atlas raises a brow at you but finally shrugs, seemingly too busy working out this new temporary member to bother stopping you. “There's a good sandwich place just down the block I go to, shouldn't be a long trip.” Puck offers, raising their head in a slight nod before leading the way away from the lab. You hear Reese groan and follow as Atlas picks up the pace as well. Skye gives you a bright smile and leads up the rear. You take a moment to glance up at the lab as you leave it, eyeing it warily as you leave. It's nowhere near as bad as the Institute building itself, but something about it doesn't sit right with you either. It's time to go. You... [[Walk beside Atlas]] [[Walk beside Puck]] [[Walk beside Reese]] [[Walk beside Skye]] [[Walk behind everyone]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos +=10)>>You pick up your pace to catch up with Atlas up front, who strides ahead like going to get lunch is a mission that must be met in a timely manner. Stepping in line beside him, you glance over to see his stare focused ahead but his attention drawn to you and back behind to the newcomer. It's on his mind, obviously. His hand is tapping again. [[“You alright?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“She's not gonna jump you or anything man.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos +=10)>>You catch up with the rest of the group, sliding into place beside Puck, who walks at an even pace right behind Atlas. They turn their head to look at you as you meet their pace, offering you that same soft smile you are slowly getting used to. It's rather nice to find some company that doesn't feel overwhelming. “Sorry for all this hassle, you doing alright?” They ask. You raise your brows a bit. Is that the first time you've been asked that since you've entered the city? The thought that it just might be has your gut twisting in uncomfortable ways but you fight the urge to spill it all. Maybe right now isn't the best time to go all vulnerable. [[“It's been rough, not gonna lie.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Oh it's certainly been something.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reeserelationshippos +=10)>>You end up speeding up a little to catch up with the group before slowing your pace to catch the back half of the group, where Reese falls behind Puck and Atlas. It's maybe not the best company to have, but he's familiar. And maybe he'll actually hold a conversation. “You see how weird this is too, right?” There it is. You look over to Reese, who is staring holes into the back of Atlas's head. “What?” “I mean- what do these two have to do with the mission anymore? One helped us //barely// and the other...” He continues, casting an irritated look over his shoulder at Skye, who is too busy getting distracted by whatever's in the nearest window to listen. You can't say you can't see his point. [[“I understand. Don't worry though, we'll be back on it soon.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Now look who's the tight ass.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>You pick up the pace a little to catch up with the rest of the group, but don't have to travel far as you reach the newcomers side quite quickly. She's rather short <<if $height is "short">>, around your height,<<else>>, shorter than you,<</if>> but easily keeps close to the rest of the group, her prosthetic legs keeping her from faltering for even a second. “Hey again!” She greets as you raise your eyebrows at her volume. “Thanks for letting me<<if hasVisited("No. I need all the peace and quiet I can get.")>>,” you hold your tongue and try not to correct her. “-<</if>> tag along again! Are you from here?" [[“No, I only got here yesterday.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Nah. I think I'd go crazy if that was the case.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $teamplayer to Math.clamp($teamplayer -=10)>>You hesitate a moment before following properly. It's difficult to drag your feet, even now as you've felt like you've followed this lead— this //path// for as long as you've had. Less than twenty-four hours and it's already this difficult to keep up. Less than twenty-four hours and you'd rather be anywhere but here. You idle as you watch the group walk ahead, traveling down the sidewalk as people pass them by, slowly becoming harder and harder to make out as you stand there. They seem to slide so easily into the crowd, to pass so easily by the waves of people and vendors and everything else that flourishes here. But not you. You can't feel that. Yet or ever. It's a juggling act between those two modifications to your thoughts. Like a never-ending spin to your stomach, another turn of your head. And it makes you sick. Your head turns upwards, letting out a shaky breath as you try and beat down the bad feelings once again. You can't say if it works or not. When your gaze turns level once again though, you're surprised to see someone staring back at you. Puck, their hand raised high, waving over to you. From this distance, you can't quite make out their expression, but you don't feel like you need to. How did they notice? //Why// did they notice? It's an acknowledgment, something you hardly get enough of these days. Recognizing it as //these days// hardly makes you feel better though. Like you've resigned yourself to this fate already. <<if $dragonpride is true>>Maybe you should. Not like there's much of a way out of this anyways.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You consider it for a moment, far longer than you know you should.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>You shouldn't. You can't. If there's anything to fight for here, you've got to try.<</if>> You set your shoulders and pick up your pace, following after the group and soon enough, falling back into their ranks. Amongst the crowd, you become just another face. You hope it's that easy. [[Next|court look]]

“You alright?” You ask, sidling a little closer to his side as you hush your words a bit. Atlas stiffens a bit at the proximity but visibly tries to settle down, moving away only slightly from your attention. It only hurts a little. “I'm fine. It's just-” He casts another glance over his shoulder to Skye, who's glancing around everywhere but back at him, seemingly too distracted by the allure of the city to focus. “We really don't need another variable right now. We're off-mission as it is.” You stare at him for a minute. This feels... weird. Weirder than he usually is. Is there something more to it though? Or just an odd crop of nerves? “It'll be fine. She's only gonna be here for a little bit and then we can...” You trail your words off a bit, the reality of what lies after catching up with you as your hand loosely twirls in the air. You frown. Yeah. Right. What comes after this break. “It's only temporary.” You finish as you look away, frown now focused on the path ahead of you. Maybe trying to cheer someone else up right now wasn't the best idea. There's a beat of silence as you walk down the gradually populating sidewalk. “Right. Temporary.” Atlas repeats. His voice sounds a bit more strained and you spare him a glance only to catch the last bits of the look he was giving you when he thought you weren't looking. Shame. [[What?|court look]]

“She's not gonna jump you or anything man.” You reassure with a light chuckle. “Calm down, you look spooked.” Atlas doesn't glare at you for this comment, a welcome change, but doesn't exactly react right away either, now sneaking another glance over his shoulder to Skye, who's glancing around everywhere but back at him, seemingly too distracted by the allure of the city to focus. He hums noncommittally. “We don't know her, though. She could be lying. And besides, we're wasting time like this.” He argues. You suppress a roll of your eyes. “Ah yes the ever-present 'ticking clock'. You know you can go out to lunch once in a while, right?” You raise an eyebrow in his direction. “You don't have to //constantly// be on the ball.” Atlas looks a bit perplexed by this, if not a little frustrated. The concept pings around a bit in his brain before he finally speaks again. “What... ball?” Huh? You blink at him. Oh he's serious. There goes your point then. You chuckle through a sigh. [[“Never mind.”|court look]]

As you continue to walk down the street, you notice more and more as the sun begins to truly light up the day. More people are about than there were when you left for the day, and this deep into the city there's plenty of life going on around you. There's plenty of noise as well, some of it a bit piercing, others hushed <<if $disability is "hoh">>to the point where even your lip-reading can't decipher it as they pass too quickly<</if>>. You can make out some arguments, some banter, a few screams of laughter from kids chasing each other down the road, and plenty of various languages mixed in that you can recognize. What you do recognize, however, is the distinct sound of a ball hitting pavement. You perk up at the noise, looking off towards the source towards the interior side of the sidewalk. There, just ahead, lies a small basketball court, tucked behind a tall chain-link fence and a door that's propped wide open. As you grow closer, you spot a line of short bleachers on either side of the court, rickety things that don't look too comfortable to sit on. Inside, three taller people are dribbling a basketball back and forth, exchanging it and their laughter that despite all the activity around you, manages to echo all over the block. [[Next|skye court enter]]

“It's been rough, not gonna lie.” You confess with a sigh. You scratch at the back of your neck and slouch a bit, the ease of the conversation getting to you. “I didn't exactly choose to be here.” “Yeah. I... I heard. I don't exactly envy your position.” They respond, smile wavering a bit at the intensity of the words neither of you dare speak. It's a quiet kind of solidarity, and one you appreciate, but the whisper of words that just don't quite come upsets you in a way you can't define. More unexplainable words. “Hey, don't let one bad place keep you down. There's more that can be done within the eye of the storm than you think.” They add, tilting their head a bit to give you a sympathetic nod. The words are... nice and definitely meaningful, but you can't help feeling a little lost with them. A storm means passing. Means shelter at the end of the day. Are you supposed to wait for it to get better, head huddled downwards as the wind rages on? It sure doesn't feel temporary. You give them a thankful nod anyways. They're just trying to help. “And until then there's a good sandwich on the horizon.” Okay. You laugh at that a little. And you feel less alone in that, at least. That feels worth more than any physical comfort. [[Next|court look]]

“Oh it's certainly been something.” You scoff, shaking your head in nihilistic amusement. “I have the skid marks to prove it.” Puck's eyebrows raise a bit at your comment and they seem to chew on the information for a little bit before speaking again. You take the moment to rub tiredly at your eyes. The action from earlier distracted you from the activity you left behind the day before, but the aches still linger. The frustration still singes a mark into your back. “If you'd like, I can check any future wounds so they don't continue to give you trouble. I'm better at biology anyways.” Puck offers suddenly, voice a bit more hushed as they speak now, though it lilts as if playful at the end. It's your turn to look surprised. An offer of assistance is as rare as it is disconcerting nowadays. Do you look that bad? Sound that bad? “Sorry, worded that like a scientist. I'm happy to help, basically.” They reaffirm with a slightly more awkward smile, lips still pulled taught. It's a peculiar way to go about things, but you can't say you're all too upset about it. If you're being honest, the offer of help is... well it's appreciated. But it also reminds you how badly you need it like a shock of cold to the back of the head. So instead of responding, you give them a tight nod in response. [[Next|court look]]

“I understand. Don't worry though, we'll be back on it soon.” You try to soothe, raising both shoulders in a relaxed shrug. “A lunch break isn't going to do any harm, right?” Reese responds with a noncommittal hum. His brow is still furrowed. “What did you two even talk about?” “What?” “You and Puck.” You clarify, staring ahead now towards the back of Puck's head, who is murmuring with light conversation back and forth with Atlas. “In the lab. Atlas said-” “Body and wound identification.” Reese responds quickly. There's an edge to his voice that is all too telling of what's to come if you continue to press the matter. You wince. “Right. I'm sorry.” You apologize, letting out a breath that comes out all too shaky. There's a small beat of silence as the two of you walk beside one another. “It's fine. Not like I'm not used to it.” It's your turn to go silent. “The bodies or the conversation?” [[Reese doesn't answer that.|court look]]

“Now look who's the tight ass.” You chuckle, poking fun at his tenseness as you prod him with an elbow. He hisses and shoots you a glare as he moves a bit from your side to avoid any further body shots. Damn. “Cmon' you see it too right?” He frowns, hunching over even further as he walks. It kind of looks like it hurts, but he's still glaring with all the same fire and fury. “We're being shepherded around like cattle. This shit's wasting time.” You raise a brow at that. He may have a point, but the tone of it is all too familiar by now. And not from him. “You sound like Atlas.” Reese visibly startles at the comparison, startling you the same as he turns his glare to you, fangs bared. It's enough to shock you to seriousness again momentarily. “Don't compare me to him, <<if $rnick is true>>$nickname<<else>>$name<</if>>. I'm nothing like him, don't start shit right now.” He spits out, just as quickly righting himself again as he snaps his focus off of you. Damn. Alright then. You two walk in silence for a beat. “To be fair to you, he's much shriller when he yells.” You add. You can't help but sneak a glance to the side, catching the slightest edge of a smirk that sneaks its way onto Reese's face. Got him. [[Next|court look]]

“No, I only got here yesterday.” You respond, sticking your hands into your pockets as you give her a nod. She perks up further, if that's even possible, and looks you over a second like that's going to solve some mystery for her before she tries unsuccessfully stifles a laugh. “What?” You huff out, laughing a bit with her though you don't know why. “Nothing nothing! It's just funny, that's all!” She exclaims with a wide smile, shaking her hands out to the side almost like she's miming a set of frills flaring. “I've been here longer than you, but you seem so natural here!” You blink at her for a second, smile gradually lessening on your face. Natural? Here? That seems incredibly exaggerated. Even now, stepping down the street with company, you feel somewhat isolated, like you really shouldn't be here in the first place. Because in all honesty you //shouldn't//. Maybe she's just bad at reading people. “I wouldn't say that...” You breathe out, shaking your head a bit as you quietly close that topic of conversation. Skye just shrugs her shoulders and returns to looking around. [[Next|court look]]

“Nah. I think I'd go crazy if that was the case.” You chuckle with a shake of your head. Though you haven't experienced much of the city, the idea that you'd be dealing with gangs and murders one after the other doesn't leave your head. It's not a reliable source of influence though, right? You do seem to have unordinary bad luck. You eye Skye for a moment. Or maybe good? It's fickle, that's for certain. “Really? Why?” She asks, looking over to you with widened eyes. Is she really that unaware? You suppose you've gotten too used to not having to relay this information. “I mean I didn't really choose to be...” You pause for a second, waving your hand around to the rest of the group in front of you. “Here.” You caught yourself before specifying the group, a shameful feeling rising to your cheeks as you remember you did come //here//. To the city. To a place that by now, you have as much love for as one can for a home that has offered little to no hospitality by it's institutions. You frown. “Oh. I'm sorry about that.” You glance over to Skye, who's peppy energy has dulled a bit. Huh. You didn't expect her to be so ready to listen. Just as quickly though, she smiles again, this time a bit more drawn back, as if she's giving you space to feel that way. “I'll try to make your time worthwhile, then!” [[Next|court look]]

You pass by the court, eyes lingering as you pass by it. It tugs at your heart a little, regardless of your interest in the sport. Their smiles are infectious, you have to admit. <<if hasVisited("Walk beside Skye")>>It seems like a person in your party feels the same. As you continue to watch the players as you pass by, your eyes slowly slide over to where Skye is to catch her expression. Well... perhaps you should say where she //was//.<</if>><<if hasVisited("Walk behind everyone")>>It seems like a person in your party feels the same. As you watch the players as you pass by, you notice a bit of movement just ahead of you, your attention passed over to Skye who has suddenly made a beeline away from the rest of the group.<<else>>As you pass, you sigh to yourself, prying your eyes away for a moment before you take one last glance behind you. Hm. All four of them look pretty happy. You turn away again before suddenly stopping in your tracks. Wait //four?// Your head snaps to the side as you do a double-take. Is that... //Skye?//<</if>> “Skye-” You hiss out in a whisper, back trailing to move towards her as she seemingly doesn't hear you and strolls through the open fence. The commotion catches the attention of the rest of the group, Atlas in particular sucking in a cold spurt of freezing air between his teeth. “What is she //doing?//” He coughs, rushing ahead as well. You both reach the open gate as she passes through it, the movement catching her attention as she twirls around to look at both of you. “What?” [[“Come back, we have work to do.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Weren't we going for sandwiches?”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]]

“Come back, we have work to do.” You affirm, giving her a strict stare as you check over her shoulder. The three kids behind her continue to mess around, seemingly unaware of the activity beside them. They don't even really seem to be playing anymore, now just tossing banter back and forth. One laughs and you spot dulled canines. They're human. “Right. Come on, you can't keep getting distracted by every little thing you see.” Atlas nods, giving you a short, grateful look before focusing back on Skye, who now frowns. You're aware that including her inherently in the group discussion of work isn't exactly accurate, but she doesn't even seem to notice as she speaks up. “Cmon' guys!” She groans, rolling her eyes dramatically as she flashes the both of you a smile. “We don't have time for //one// game?” “No we-” Reese starts. “Yes we do!” Puck finishes. <<if $expressive > 50>>You choke on the sudden laughter that bursts from you, stunned by the sudden interruption by the scientist as they move forwards to step in.<<else>>Your eye twitches a bit at Puck's sudden interruption, but you otherwise stay still as the scientist moves forwards to step in.<</if>> You hear Reese scoff in clear annoyance. “Work has been done today already, right? We can eat, take a break, //and// spare time for a game.” They look pointedly at Atlas and give you a nod as they push into the court as well, meeting inside with a very ecstatic looking Skye. [[“You guys are just as pushy...”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“I'll grab a seat then!”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]]

“Weren't we going for sandwiches?” You ask, raising a brow at her as you check over her shoulder.The three kids behind her continue to mess around, seemingly unaware of the activity beside them. They don't even really seem to be playing anymore, now just tossing banter back and forth. One laughs and you spot dulled canines. They're human. “Right. Come on, you can't keep getting distracted by every little thing you see.” Atlas nods and follows your gaze as Skye frowns. You frown with her a bit. You definitely want to get those sandwiches, but Atlas's tone implies work to be done. Not exactly what you mean. “Cmon' guys!” She groans, rolling her eyes dramatically as she flashes the both of you a smile. “We don't have time for //one// game?” “No we-” Reese starts. “Yes we do!” Puck finishes. <<if $expressive > 50>>You choke on the sudden laughter that bursts from you, stunned by the sudden interruption by the scientist as they move forwards to step in.<<else>>Your eye twitches a bit at Puck's sudden interruption, but you otherwise stay still as the scientist moves forwards to step in.<</if>> You hear Reese scoff in clear annoyance. “Work has been done today already, right? We can eat, take a break, //and// spare time for a game.” They look pointedly at Atlas and give you a nod as they push into the court as well, meeting inside with a very ecstatic looking Skye. [[“You guys are just as pushy...”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“I'll grab a seat then!”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]]

“You guys are just as pushy...” You grumble under your breath, shaking your head as you follow anyway. Taking a break from the work is great, but it feels like yet another case of that being decided for you. You don't like it. But it's a break. Maybe you can ease in some time for yourself in the meanwhile. “You guys open for a third?” Skye asks the players, all of which look up to spot her rushing over excitedly. For a moment you pause, suddenly remembering that this is not a group of dragon shifters. Why hasn't she shifted away her fangs? Why is she approaching so fast? You instinctively go rigid, holding your breath as your world suddenly narrows in on this moment. They're going to hurt her. They're going to yell at her. They're going to yell at you. You don't have time to run. “Ha- sure, why not?” You blink and you're back on solid ground, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you suddenly snap out of the trance. What? “We haven't played for points in a while, we can split into teams of two if you're up for it!” Skye integrates herself as quickly into the group as she did with yours, instantly swapping questions and rules as soon as she came to a stop before them. She's shorter than all of them by quite a lot— you don't doubt that they could have easily done something to her. Then you catch the thoughts like a pulled thread in your mind, swallowing hard as you bite back the risen emotion. Shit. No. It's fine. They're just... people. You don't know whether to be ashamed or surprised, still staring across the court as Skye says something to make the three kids burst out into laughter. It's nice. It's so nice but it doesn't feel like it. It just hurts. And you don't know why. [[“You alright?”|puck pep talk]]

“I'll grab a seat then!” You exclaim with a small shrug towards Atlas and Reese, who look equally frustrated, as you move to find a seat among the bleachers. It's not exactly what you expected from a break, but you won't complain now. Not while you can take a minute to rest. “You guys open for a third?” Skye asks the players, all of which look up to spot her rushing over excitedly. For a moment you pause, suddenly remembering that this is not a group of dragon shifters. Why hasn't she shifted away her fangs? Why is she approaching so fast? You instinctively go rigid, holding your breath as your world suddenly narrows in on this moment. They're going to hurt her. They're going to yell at her. They're going to yell at you. You don't have time to run. “Ha- sure, why not?” You blink and you're back on solid ground, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you suddenly snap out of the trance. What? “We haven't played for points in a while, we can split into teams of two if you're up for it!” Skye integrates herself as quickly into the group as she did with yours, instantly swapping questions and rules as soon as she came to a stop before them. She's shorter than all of them by quite a lot— you don't doubt that they could have easily done something to her. Then you catch the thoughts like a pulled thread in your mind, swallowing hard as you bite back the risen emotion. Shit. No. It's fine. They're just... people. You don't know whether to be ashamed or surprised, still staring across the court as Skye says something to make the three kids burst out into laughter. It's nice. It's so nice but it doesn't feel like it. It just hurts. And you don't know why. [[“You alright?”|puck pep talk]]

“Huh?” You murmur, turning your head around to look at Puck, who stands a little bit of a distance from you, hands stowed carefully in their pockets. They seem to try to be giving you some space, and it lifts a bit of weight off of your shoulders. “You look like you've seen a ghost.” They point out, giving you another tight smile that looks a little pained. Do they get it? Is there some understanding here of the unspoken? Or are you just searching desperately for another connection— anything that will make this distance feel less real? That feels silly. “Yeah I'm- I'm fine.” You reply, gripping onto your midsection unconsciously with a tightened hand. “Are you playing?” “Me? Psh- nah.” They reply, lifting a hand and adjusting their glasses as they look back out at the scene ahead of them. The group is still talking. “I'm not nearly that talented. I'm basically half-blind anyways.” <<if $blindeye is true>>They take a second before whipping their head to look back to you, eyes flashing with worry as they let out a sudden regretful bark of awkward laughter. “Shit. Not like that. You know what I mean- sorry.” They rephrase, lifting a hand to seemingly apologize. You give them back the same half-smile, something that gets the point across regardless of your personal feelings towards the mishap. “No worries. That bad?” You ask, jerking your head up a bit.<<else>>“That bad?” You ask, jerking your head up a bit.<</if>> Puck makes a half-hearted gesture with their free hand, their features screwing up a bit. Even from here you can see that the lenses of their glasses are a bit thick. “Eh. It could be ah-” They pause, fixing the frames again as they take a deep breath. Is this a bigger issue for them? “It could be worse, I'll just say that.” They give you a slight smile and you nod. You don't even notice as your breathing naturally slows. [[Next|court time]]

“This is a huge waste of time.” You hear Reese before you see him, the man stalking over to the seats as he glares out at Skye and the group. You raise an eyebrow at him but let him be, unwilling to confront him as you gather yourself still. “I agree. Entirely unprofessional.” Atlas affirms, stepping up beside him as he shoots the same look towards them. There's a moment of pure quiet as everyone but Atlas seems to register the situation, Reese slowly looking up to stare at the taller man before another beat of silence passes. You blink between them. “Yeah never mind.” Reese hisses out, suddenly moving to take off his jacket as he drops it on the bleachers and makes for the court. Atlas sputters but as right before the dark-haired man reaches the court, he looks back over to you of all people. “You coming?” [[Sure. I'll play.|court play]] [[I'd rather sit with Atlas and Puck.|court sit]] [[I'd rather sit alone.|court sit far]]

Y'know what? It's been a long day, might as well get some fun in. You look between Reese and Skye for a moment, finally nodding your head as you step over to the court, stretching out your shoulders as you do. You spy Reese smiling just a hint before he turns away from you, calling over to the players still chatting. “Hey! Got room for two more?” <<if $height is "tall">>The group looks over, eyes widening a bit as they spot you walking over. You panic internally a little until one of them speaks up. “Isn't that... a little unfair?” One of them, clad in a blue basketball uniform you don't recognize, asks, chuckling a little. You blink at him for a moment before realizing you're staring downwards quite a bit to get a good view of everyone. Oh. Right. “Nah- it evens out with the other two.” Another one laughs. You automatically put a hand out in front of Reese and it's a good call as he steps forwards quickly to confront them, stopped only by your hand though he glares out over it.<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>The group looks over, eyes widening a bit as they spot you walking over. You panic internally a little until one of them speaks up. “Isn't that... a little unfair?” One of them, clad in a blue basketball uniform you don't recognize, asks, chuckling a little. You blink at him for a moment before realizing you're staring downwards quite a bit to get a good view of everyone. Oh. Right. “Nah- it evens out with the other two.” Another one laughs. You automatically put a hand out in front of Reese and it's a good call as he steps forwards quickly to confront them, stopped only by your hand though he glares out over it.<</if>><<if $height is "short">>The group looks over, biting back short bursts of laughter as they spot you walking over. You panic internally a little until one of them speaks up. “Isn't that... a little unfair?” One of them, clad in a blue basketball uniform you don't recognize, asks, chuckling a little. You blink at him before realizing you're having to crane your neck quite a bit to meet their eyes. Oh. ”Shh shh- don't tell them! This'll be easy.” Another one laughs, pulling their friend over to whisper loudly to him. You hear Reese audibly growl. “Yeah that's it. Let's kick their asses.”<<else>>“Yeah, sure! You sure you're down, though?” One of them, clad in a blue basketball uniform you don't recognize, asks. “We won't go easy on you.” <<if $nervous < 50>>“Hell yes.” You reply with a grin. You look back at your two other players, who look just as ready as you. “Let's kick their asses.”<<else>>“Cmon' guys,” Reese grins, giving you and Skye a look before cracking his knuckles. “Let's kick their asses.” Oh dear.<</if>><</if>> [[Next|basketball start]]

You shake your head at Reese, quickly deciding that the effort just isn't for you right now. You've had a bit too much activity today anyways. Still, as he shrugs and turns back to the court, you don't retreat to a corner of the bleachers, instead spotting Atlas and Puck already seated upon the short seats side by side, watching the game with varying levels of focus. You step over to them, sitting near the edge of the bench as you glance out at the court. The two groups talk among themselves, some kind of agreement being made as a player from the opposing team joins up with Skye and Reese. She's rather short in comparison to her companions, but seems to fit in quickly as she high fives Skye and begins bantering right away. “Good luck on the shortie squad!” One member yells. You can spy Reese readying a counterattack as you adjust yourself on your seat, but the newest team member of theirs spins around, yelling back just as quick. “You're going to eat those words, inshallah.” She shouts back. Your eyebrows raise a little bit. Good thing they have such a passionate member. “This'll be interesting.” Puck says beside you. Atlas doesn't answer so you suppose you're the one they meant the words for. You, on the other hand... [[Pay more attention to your company than the game.]] [[Are far more interested to see how this game goes.]]

<<set $teamplayer to Math.clamp($teamplayer -=10)>>You take one look at the activity in front of you— and quickly excuse yourself from it. You’ve had enough moving around and socializing in the past few hours, and you could frankly use a few minutes just to… to breathe. To think. You dismiss yourself, waving and shaking your head towards Reese who just as quickly shrugs and turns back to the court. You, meanwhile, don’t stop at the corner of the bleachers that Atlas and Puck are seating themselves at, instead moving towards the opposite end of the hard steel seats. You get comfortable, or best you can, at the edge of this end, letting out a breath as you seat yourself down. As you lean forwards a bit, forearms on your knees, you close your eyes for a second. Not long. Just enough to be considered a reprieve. <<if $disability is "hoh">>You feel more than you hear in moments like this. Feel the soft, cool breeze tickling at the exposed skin of your nose. Feel the way the concrete rumbles beneath your shoes. The sturdy seat beneath you. It’s one of the brief moments you can anchor yourself. <<else>>You hear a lot more when you’re just focusing on the sounds. The sounds of the wind whispering past you softly, rustling at your clothes. The basketball game up and starting as people pass behind you, idling from place to place. All with their own lives to attend to, you figure. You don’t know if that should make you feel better or worse, but at least it’s time you can think for yourself.<</if>> You adjust yourself in your seat, letting out a soft sound as your backside shifts against something uncomfortable. You check the spot, eyes widening an inch as you catch sight of a flash of something silver. The knife. It’s still sheathed, thank goodness, but you blink in something akin to surprise as you realize you had not only slept with it still strapped to your side, but walked down the street along with it too. Thank goodness it was tucked away. In the next moment, you’ve unsheathed the knife, holding it gingerly in your hands as you turn it over and examine it on your lap. The thought barely crosses your mind as you do, shuffling to get more comfortable as you stare at the weapon. <<if $collar is true>><<if $weapon is false>>You don’t remember if you cut the Firespitter you were fighting back on the train yesterday, but the memory of flashing it to your side stands out. You swallow. What if you had used it more? Bared it and dug it into the side of that person? Beast? Would that have been better? It’s harder to think about that.<</if>><<else>>You haven’t had to use it- yet. It’s heavy in your hands, that //yet//. Unbearable close. It feels inevitable. Just like all of the unexpected turns and sick-to-your-stomach moments that have happened so far. What happens then? You’ve already had to defend yourself. The waiting makes it worse.<</if>> [[Next|court sit far 2]]

The game starts with both teams on opposite sides. You meet at the middle of the court, separated by a white line painted into the center that looks older than the hoops themselves. The blue-jersey wearing player steps up first, bouncing the ball on the court with a smirk before he pauses, nodding over to your group. “Who wants to toss up first? I'll let your side start.” He offers with a cocky grin. <<if $kind < 50>>You glare at him. All this banter is starting to get you aggravated.<<else>>You quirk a brow at him and look back at your teammates.<</if>> [[“I'll start.”|mc ball start]] [[“Why doesn't Skye start?”|skye ball start]] [[“Reese?”|reese ball start]]

“I'll start.” You speak up, confidence swelling as you nod at your team and step up. You don't miss Reese's frustrated look, instead ignoring it in order to step up. <<if $height is "short">>The guy in front of you stares down a bit, smiling again with a bit of a sigh. He really isn't expecting much from you, huh. You'll just have to make this count, then.<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>The guy in front of you stares up just slightly to meet your eyes, raising a brow and smirking a bit defiantly. Huh. Brave. Maybe a little stupid.<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>The guy in front of you cranes his neck upwards a bit, wincing a bit at the maintained height difference. You grin back.<</if>><<if $height is "average">>The guy in front of you smiles a bit and gives you a nod as you step up. Right. Let's do this.<</if>> The player in front of you hands you the ball, backing up a bit to give you space as he spares you one last smile before getting serious. You school your features and focus, testing the weight of the ball in your hands before you slowly fall into a crouch. <<if $snick is true>><<if $rnick is false>>“You got this $nickname!” You hear Skye cheer from behind you. “Wait- $nickname?” Reese exclaims. You throw the ball up before that conversation continues any further.<</if>><</if>><<if $snick is true>><<if $rnick is true>>“You got this $nickname!” You hear Skye cheer from behind you. You toss the ball up high into the air.<</if>><<else>>“You got this $name!” You hear Skye cheer from behind you. You toss the ball up high into the air.<</if>> <<if $dexadd >=40>><<if $height is "short">>Within seconds, the game is on. You spot the kid across from you leap for the ball, but you are faster, jumping up higher than him as you snatch the ball out of the sky and just as quickly rush past him as you land. “H-hey! C'mon!” He shouts from behind you, clearly taken off guard. You just smile and run for the opposite court, just as quickly hearing your teammates follow with cheers of their own. It's on.<</if>><</if>><<if $dexadd >=40>><<if $height is "average">>Within seconds, the game is on. You spot the kid across from you leap for the ball, but you are faster, jumping up higher than him as you snatch the ball out of the sky and just as quickly rush past him as you land. “H-hey! C'mon!” He shouts from behind you, clearly taken off guard. You just smile and run for the opposite court, just as quickly hearing your teammates follow with cheers of their own. It's on.<</if>><</if>><<if $height is "tall">>Within seconds, the game is on. You spot the kid across from you leap for the ball, but you are faster, jumping up higher than him as you snatch the ball out of the sky and just as quickly rush past him as you land. “H-hey! C'mon!” He shouts from behind you, clearly taken off guard. You just smile and run for the opposite court, just as quickly hearing your teammates follow with cheers of their own. It's on.<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>Within seconds, the game is on. You spot the kid across from you leap for the ball, but you are faster, jumping up higher than him as you snatch the ball out of the sky and just as quickly rush past him as you land. “H-hey! C'mon!” He shouts from behind you, clearly taken off guard. You just smile and run for the opposite court, just as quickly hearing your teammates follow with cheers of their own. It's on.<</if>><<if $dexadd < 40>><<if $height is "average">>You jump to meet the ball, the light leather calling to you as you rise to the occasion. However, it seems like your opponent rises faster. He quickly smacks the ball out of your line of attack, quickly landing and dodging to the side before you can oppose him. Shit. He really is good at this. You rush after him, hearing the cheers of the opposite team as you run.<</if>><</if>><<if $height is "short">><<if $dexadd < 40>>You jump to meet the ball, the light leather calling to you as you rise to the occasion. However, it seems like your opponent rises faster. He quickly smacks the ball out of your line of attack, quickly landing and dodging to the side before you can oppose him. Shit. He really is good at this. You rush after him, hearing the cheers of the opposite team as you run.<</if>><</if>> [[Next|bball end]]

“Why doesn't Skye start?” You prompt, looking over to Skye, who practically gasps after being called on. She fixes you with wide eyes, wringing her hands together nervously as she hesitates. “You- you sure?” She asks meekly, the first sign of the feeling now clear in her body language. Oh wow. She's really bad at hiding her emotions. “You sure?” Reese repeats, looking much less happy about the choice. He glances from you to her, an eyebrow raised. You nod confidently. You can't see why not— she looks like she might burst from excitement anyways. Skye just about does, excitedly jumping up to the middle of the court after throwing you a particularly sweet grin. You're quick to follow behind, standing close beside Reese as you both stare on as the game starts. The player opposite hands her the ball, giving her a small nod as she bounces from one leg to another, warming up. You hear her take a deep breath and you follow, tensing yourself to jump at the ready, no matter the outcome. In a second, the ball is tossed into the air, reaching a frankly short height before it begins to descend again. Then Skye crouches. Neither you nor Reese have a second to question it because in a second, she's up again, rocketing upwards faster than either of you can follow. A whiff of air. A shouted curse. ”How the fu-” Skye whoops as she grabs into the ball with both hands, a hiss in the air the only indication of something more happening before she lands and whirls around to wave at both you and Reese. ”Come on guys! Hurry!” She shouts, already dribbling towards the hoop. <<if $expressive > 50>>You stare for a moment before smirking to yourself, shoving at Reese's shoulder, who's locked in shock, before following after. Maybe this won't be so hard after all.<<else>>You stare on in silence for a moment, Reese beside you similarly frozen in shock. “Did that really-?” He asks, trailing off quietly. “Yep. Come on, man.” You reply with a shake of your head. Damn. Maybe this won't be so hard after all.<</if>> [[Next|bball end]]

“Reese?” You prompt, hopping to probably the simplest answer. Reese must feel the same as he grins back at you, a strange smile that looks more aimed at baring his teeth at the opposing team than smiling at you. Maybe this was a bad idea. Reese shoves himself forwards, locking eyes with the player opposing as he steps up towards the middle of the court. The two players size each other up for a moment, staring one another down for what feels like forever. <<if $kind < 50>>“Hey! You two!” You shout from behind. “Can we quit measuring each other's dicks for a minute?” Reese clears his throat, rubbing the embarrassment from his face as the opposing player laughs under his breath before finally handing the ball over.<<else>>You audibly clear your throat, loudly enough to catch both of their attentions as Reese looks back to you. You half-smile at him, quirking an eyebrow before he finally gets the picture, huffing and turning back to the opposing player, who hands him the ball with a smirk.<</if>> You crouch a little as Reese tests the weight of the ball in his hands, Skye next to you following your lead as you all prepare to rush. The ball is thrown high up into the air by Reese and in an instant, the two players are on it, jumping high up after it. You realize what a bad idea it was to let Reese start as they both go airborne. In seconds, the other kid has knocked the ball out of the air, just as quickly landing and dashing off towards the hoop on your side. Shit. “Gh- you //fucker!//” Reese shouts, voice far too venomous for the court. He whips around and gives chase just as quickly, the laughter of the opposite team following as the game begins. [[Next|bball end]]

The game continues like that for a while longer, the sun rising further into the sun as you race back and forth on the court, going from chasing to running to chasing once again. Despite what you considered a natural advantage at the start, the opposing team isn't swayed by Reese's aggression and Skye's athleticism, putting a lot of faith in their skills and experience. <<if $dexadd >=40>>You have an easier time with it, passing the ball easily and weaving through the other team as fast as you can. They're a formidable force together, but with your group, the rocky nature of your competition eventually begins to smooth out as you work with your own team.<<else>>You have a more difficult time with the game, struggling to shove between players and pass the ball between your teammates as the opposing team just barely manages to edge you out and take the lead. They're kind of ruthless, but your team sticks close enough behind for it not to be as demolishing as a lead.<</if>> By the end, you are sweating, tired, and shaking with what you think is exertion, but turns out to be more akin to excitement as the game rolls to an end. The sun's up much higher now, the warmth of its rays tracing lines into the pavement you sit on now, catching your breath as everyone winds down and the game comes to a close. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as you breathe in and out, taking deeper breaths to calm your heart rate as you just sit in the moment. It's been a long while since you could just sit in this. [[Next|blue jersey]]

“Good game.” You crack open an eye to the voice, the sun blocking out the individual for a moment before they lean to the side, casting your face in shadow as you peer up at them. It's the player from earlier— the one wearing the blue jersey. He extends a hand down towards you and you stare at it for a moment. A hand to grasp. [[I take it and thank him.]] [[I take it and say nothing.]] [[I don't take it but thank him.]] [[I don't take it and say nothing.]]

With a <<if $expressive > 50>>slight smile<<else>>little nod<</if>>, you take his hand and let him help you stand, shaking out your head a little. “Thanks.” You reply, dropping their hand as you look down at your own for a moment. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Not too bad yourself.” He snorts and you look back up at him. “Not //too// bad? You barely survived.” He jokes, pushing at your shoulder before stepping back and giving you space once more. You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” You laugh back, shaking your head but giving him a smile regardless as he nods to you and steps away.<<else>>“It was nice to take a break.” He smiles and gives you a short laugh as you look back up at him. “They workin' you to the bone, huh?” He grins. “I can talk to them if you'd like.” “No no- please don't.” You laugh back, raising a hand to wave him off. “There'd be very little use in that.” He shrugs but steps back to give you space, smile softening again as he pulls back.<</if>> “Well, either way, you're more than welcome back here anytime.” [[What?|jersey offer]]

You grab his hand and let him help you stand, your other hand pushing yourself up as you give him a slight nod, but otherwise keep your mouth shut. As you stand and he releases you, you look down at your own hand for a moment. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Not too bad yourself.” He snorts and you look back up at him. “Not //too// bad? You barely survived.” He jokes, pushing at your shoulder before stepping back and giving you space once more. You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” You laugh back, shaking your head but giving him a smile regardless as he nods to you and steps away.<<else>>“It was nice to take a break.” He smiles and gives you a short laugh as you look back up at him. “They workin' you to the bone, huh?” He grins. “I can talk to them if you'd like.” “No no- please don't.” You laugh back, raising a hand to wave him off. “There'd be very little use in that.” He shrugs but steps back to give you space, smile softening again as he pulls back.<</if>> “Well, either way, you're more than welcome back here anytime.” [[What?|jersey offer]]

You lift a hand to wave him off in the most considerate way you can, letting out a small huff as you move to stand yourself up. “Thanks.” You reply, brushing yourself off as you steady yourself. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Not too bad yourself.” He snorts and you look back up at him. “Not //too// bad? You barely survived.” He jokes, pushing at your shoulder before stepping back and giving you space once more. You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” You laugh back, shaking your head but giving him a smile regardless as he nods to you and steps away.<<else>>“It was nice to take a break.” He smiles and gives you a short laugh as you look back up at him. “They workin' you to the bone, huh?” He grins. “I can talk to them if you'd like.” “No no- please don't.” You laugh back, raising a hand to wave him off. “There'd be very little use in that.” He shrugs but steps back to give you space, smile softening again as he pulls back.<</if>> “Well, either way, you're more than welcome back here anytime.” [[What?|jersey offer]]

You lift a hand to wave him off, quietly getting to your feet as you brush yourself off. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Not too bad yourself.” He snorts and you look back up at him. “Not //too// bad? You barely survived.” He jokes, pushing at your shoulder before stepping back and giving you space once more. You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” You laugh back, shaking your head but giving him a smile regardless as he nods to you and steps away.<<else>>“It was nice to take a break.” He smiles and gives you a short laugh as you look back up at him. “They workin' you to the bone, huh?” He grins. “I can talk to them if you'd like.” “No no- please don't.” You laugh back, raising a hand to wave him off. “There'd be very little use in that.” He shrugs but steps back to give you space, smile softening again as he pulls back.<</if>> “Well, either way, you're more than welcome back here anytime.” [[What?|jersey offer]]

“What?” You repeat, staring at him now. You're both paused a short distance from one another, but he either doesn't notice your surprise or doesn't mind it, as he smiles all the same. This one isn't cocky though— it's all soft edges and dimples. “If you ever want to play again, that is. Court's always open.” He clarifies. You blink for a moment, lips slightly parted as you force the recognition through your head. It's an invitation. Not a certainty. Not even one you think you'll get many chances to uphold, even if you wanted to in the first place. But it's still an extension. You wonder if he saw your sharp teeth if he would feel the same, extending his hand towards such a maw. “Hey, you all done?” A striking voice calls out, causing you to glance over your shoulder and stare at the source. Atlas is standing, arms crossed, as he waits by the court exit. Guess your free-time is up. “Ah- sorry. Got to go.” You reply, clamping your mouth shut quickly. You don't bother trying to remember if you do it to avoid saying something stupid or to avoid flashing your fangs. Either way, he just nods, turning simply back to his group once again. [[Time for you to return to your own then.|court end 1]]

Your attention slowly gravitates from the court as the game begins back over to Puck and Atlas, who stare on with mixed levels of interest. Atlas looks, unsurprisingly, absolutely annoyed by the state of affairs, his posture tight and stiff even as he leans back against the seats that are all too short for him. His spine is taut and his arms crossed, narrowed gaze flicking between players as they begin. It looks... incredibly awkward. Even more painful. Pretty funny, if you're being honest. Like a great dane forced onto a kid's tricycle. Puck, on the other hand, looks more akin to said kid who put the great dane on their tricycle in the first place. They're leaned forwards, one hand on their chin that rests on their knee as they stare on at the game unfolding, eyes alight and glimmering with amusement and something you can't quite pin. You lean your head in a bit to try and decipher what it is, but as you move, the scientist notices and glances at you, smiling softly. Huh. For someone so open, it sure is difficult to catch anything they don't intend to be spotted. “Are you a big sports fan?” “Hm?” Puck gestures to the game again, and you wonder for a moment if they're making fun of your lack of focus on it in the first place. [[“Definitely.”]] [[“Sure, enough.”]] [[“Not really.”]]

Your eyes follow the action in front of you more, not the company to your side. Skye, Reese, and this new member start the game a bit clumsily, Reese fumbling the toss-up while he shouts at the other team, and you notice with a start that the temporary member of his team is shorter than him. Shorter than Skye, almost. You wince as the opposing team bats the ball away from them, the basketball clearly sweeping over each of their heads. But then Skye leaps for the ball, jumping much higher up than you expect, grabbing the ball with a sudden start as she whoops and hits the ground running in the opposite direction. There's a brief moment of shock that is quickly overwhelmed with the shouting from the other players from both sides as the game truly starts, both teams rushing to fight over the ball now. You, meanwhile, find yourself leaning forwards in interest as the game starts. Skye is running fast, dodging quickly between players as she moves. Reese, on the other hand, is shouting orders at her, waving his arms around and cursing out the other players who step between him and the ball. The temporary team member seems to be somewhere in the middle, laughing at the situation but similarly shouting out at her former teammates. You stare for a lot longer than you intend to. The rain from the few hours before still stains the court, water pooling into shallow puddles that the players splash through while running back and forth. You can spot strangers on the other side of the fence opposite of you, laughter echoing off of the cramped buildings nearby as they move to and from the narrow space behind the court. Some are watching the game with passing interest. Some are wearing backpacks, exchanging loud conversations of something you can't quite catch. Is there a school nearby? You never realized how strange that thought is. Of course there would be. Why wouldn't there be? You blink as a particularly loud shout catches you off guard from the game, your attention returning to it for a moment. The side you know has the ball, and they're making a run for it. Now could be the perfect time to voice your support. [[Shout for Skye.|skye cheer]] [[Shout for Reese.|reese cheer]] [[Shout for the temporary team member.|tempm cheer]] [[Shout for the opposing team.|opp cheer]] [[Shout for no one.|no cheer]]

“Definitely.” You nod, turning your gaze back to the game for a moment. Your eyes can easily follow the ball, the smaller mistakes and moments of skill not going unnoticed as you stare at them for a moment. Now that you're paying more attention, you're quite surprised how well the people you know are doing. You suppose that makes sense if they volunteered to play in the first place. “Just not feeling it.” You add, shifting your gaze back to Puck. They're staring back at you. You adjust yourself on your seat. “I just wanna watch today.” Puck gives you a small nod and the both of you lapse into silence again. The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. ”You coming?“ They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

“Sure, enough.” You shrug, tilting your head a little as you turn to watch the game for a moment. You're not unaware enough of how the game runs to not see which side is winning, but the people you know are keeping pace pretty well. It's clearly a bit more neck and neck than the other team anticipated. “Just not my cup of tea all the time.” You add, shifting your gaze back to Puck. They're staring back at you. You adjust yourself on your seat. “Not today, at least.” Puck gives you a small nod and the both of you lapse into silence again. The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. ”You coming?“ They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

“Not really.” You reply, shaking your head as you look back to the game. It's... unfortunately a little too hard for you to make out which side is winning. You follow them for a moment, trying to discern things, but aren't left with too much information to gather. There seems to be a lot of shouting and cursing from the side you are more familiar with, but you're not sure if that's particularly uneven in comparison to how it could be. “Is someone winning?” You add under your breath, question not directed towards anyone. You hear a bark of laughter from Puck, who quickly tries to cover it up with a hand. <<if $nervous > 50>>You glance away quickly, raising your shoulders up a bit.<<else>>You frown a bit at them, but they just as quickly wave it off.<</if>> The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. ”You coming?“ They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

“Go Skye! You got this!” You shout encouragingly, cupping your hands over your mouth to get the noise across to her. You spot her jolt up, whipping around to look at you as her eyes widen. She stares at you for a moment too long before breaking into a wide grin, the freckles on her face stretching to accommodate for it as she waves at you excitedly. “Thanks <<if $nickname is true>>$nickname<<else>>$name<</if>>!” She shouts back. You both don't realize until it's too late that her excitement comes at a cost however, as you watch the basketball sail cleanly over her head and hit the pavement far behind her. “What are you //doing//?” Reese shouts, rushing ahead as he unsuccessfully tries to grab the ball before the opposing team takes it and runs. Skye looks startled and gives you an apologetic smile before she rushes off to get back into the game. <<if $expressive > 50>>You snort through a laugh.<<else>>You let out a breath and sit back.<</if>> Oh dear. The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. “You coming?” They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

“Go Reese! You got this!” You shout encouragingly, cupping your hands over your mouth to get the noise across to him. You watch him, mid-run, glance to you, a bit taken off guard by your cheers. A cocky grin splits his face, his sprint only increasing in speed as he throws you a quick wink. It lasts about two seconds. You watch almost in slow motion as Reese collides feet first with a discarded backpack strewn across the opposite side of the court, the object instantly interrupting his run as he trips, falls, and hits the ground in a matter of seconds. <<if $expressive > 50>>You jolt up, eyes widening at the sight.<<else>>You pause, blinking at the sudden sight unfolding in front of you.<</if>> Oh dear. Skye runs over to try and help but before she can he's up again, growling and muttering under his breath as he lifts a hand to stop her from getting close. Someone from the other team laughs a bit awkwardly but Reese doesn't even allow the game to hesitate, rushing back into things with renewed vigor. You sigh. The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. “You coming?” They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

“Go- uh.. stranger! You got this!” You shout encouragingly, cupping your hands over your mouth to get the noise across to the newcomer. She glances over, as if surprised you called out to her in the first place. Then, she grins, wide and confident, and turns back to the game, throwing herself into it with renewed energy. You spot Reese a couple of feet away with the ball, looking honestly... a little peeved as he glances between you and the new girl before similarly racing to get into the game. Oh dear. The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. “You coming?” They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

”Go blue jersey!” You shout encouragingly, cupping your hands over your mouth to get the noise across to the opposing team. You watch as the guy leading the other team glances over, a bit stunned for a moment, before he grins wide and throws you a quick wave. Then, he's right back into the game, rushing your side with renewed vigor. “Asshole..” You hear Reese mutter, very clearly raising his voice for you to hear over the sound of squeaking shoes as he pretends to be quiet. <<if $genuine < 50>>You just smile and pretend you didn't hear him.<<else>>You hide a smile behind your hand and continue watching.<</if>> The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. “You coming?” They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

You decide just to let the game play itself out, watching silently as the two teams wrestle the ball from one another and slide from each end of the court. They can handle this themselves- you don't feel the need to involve yourself further than you have to. You hear Puck give a supportive 'whoop' from beside you, and you glance over, having forgotten that they were seated beside you all this time. You settle down a bit, taking a deep breath and reminding yourself that this is one of the closest things you'll be getting to a break for possibly a while. You try to ease back into your seat, but it isn't as easy as you had hoped. Still, you do try. The game goes on for a little longer, both teams playing until they are sweaty and laughing. It's a bit... well if you're being sentimental, it's kind of sweet to watch the two teams tire themselves out and play a bit looser. There's less yelling, more laughing, and sloppy plays are instead backended with cackling instead of arguments. There's a tangible shift in the air, and you don't realize it until the leader of the opposing team catches the ball and lowers it, wiping the sheen of sweat from off his brow as he calls an end to the game. “That was fun.“ You hear Puck murmur beside you, reminding you of their presence as they gather their coat, now slung across an arm, and stand, stretching up high before glancing over to you. ”You coming?“ They ask as they lower their arms. You blink up at them from your seated positon. [[“Yeah, one moment.”|court end 1]] [[“I'm gonna wait a sec.”|court end 2]]

You blink as in turning the dagger, the sun hits it just right to reflect light into your <<if $blindeye is true>>good eye.<<else>>eyes.<</if>> You blink the light away, and as your eyes focus again, you spot your reflection in the reflective surface. Oh. <<if hasVisited("shower scene")>>You recall spotting your reflection earlier in the day, before finding Skye. You look about the same, but it’s still strange to look at yourself, especially given the silvery surface.<<else>>You haven’t checked your reflection since… well since the interrogation room at the beginning of it all. You could barely call that warped figure a mirror. Maybe it was more accurate to say your police photo was closer to an accurate image. Damn. You don’t know whether to laugh or spiral.<</if>> <<if $headscarf is true>>You tug lightly at your headscarf as you gaze down at yourself, fiddling with the fabric a little as you catch sight of your $skincolor skin, blemished slightly by the activity of the past day up until now.<</if>><<if $bald is true>>You run your hand over the back of your neck as you gaze down at yourself, catching sight of your $skincolor skin, blemished slightly by the activity of the past day up until now.<</if>><<if $hair is true>>You run a hand through your $haircolor hair as you gaze down at yourself, catching sight of your $skincolor skin, blemished slightly by the activity of the past day up until now.<</if>> All things considered you look… fine? Maybe that’s not the most encouraging description. Your <<if $blindeye is true>>eye<<else>>eyes<</if>> are a bit dull, probably a bit more tired than usual. You can’t say you exactly got enough sleep. You scratch at <<if $facialhair is true>> your $facial hair<<else>>your face<</if>> a bit. <<if $dysphoric is true>>Your mouth twitches a bit. Any sight of yourself right now is… complicated, no matter where the reflection is coming from. The side of this blade isn’t a completely accurate view, you know. The image is a bit wobbly and misshapen, but it doesn’t inspire any new feelings. That hurts more. You suppose the more you stare the worse the feeling will become, so you unfocus yourself a bit and lean back. The tight feeling in your chest doesn’t leave.<<else>>The side of this blade isn’t a completely accurate view, you know. The image is a bit wobbly and misshapen, but you can still clearly make out the slight slitted nature of your pupil, the shape constricting a bit more as you notice it. You relax a bit and it dilates. You’re tempted to open your mouth to check your canines and spot their sharpness, but quickly dismiss the thought. You can feel their shape well enough with your tongue. If anything, it’s not exactly surprising. <<if $dragonpride is true>>You smile a bit to yourself, a quiet moment of strange joy you find in the moment.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You don’t linger too long on that thought.<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>Were you expecting anything else? //Hoping// for anything else?<</if>><</if>> You sigh. That’s enough of that. You tuck the blade back into its sheath. You don’t want to get into any unnecessarily hot water right now, anyways. [[Next|court sit far 3]]

You raise your head slowly, spotting the game across from you that you had almost entirely forgotten about at that point. They seem to be wrapping up, smiles shared between the two and a surprising amount of laughter from both sides along with the usual playful ribbing. You can spot the difference between the group you know, laughing with sharpened canines as the others laugh alongside them. The difference is stark. But they’re both just enjoying their time. You hesitate at that. “Hey, you all done?” A striking voice calls out, causing you to glance to your side and stare at the source. Atlas is standing, arms crossed, as he waits by the court exit, staring at the basketball players. Hm. Guess that’s that then. You stand, stretching a bit as you take a breath and step back towards the group. Back to things. [[Next|court end 2]]

<<set $skingleg to true>><<if hasVisited("court sit")>>“I'm gonna wait a sec.” You reply, craning your neck back for a moment as you take a deep breath. You don't get many opportunities to relax, so even carving out a second like this is important. The sun feels nice against your cheeks. Slowly, you stand, straightening your clothes and moving over to Puck and Atlas, the former of which has grabbed Reese's jacket and is waiting for him. You, on the other hand, lean over and snatch up Skye's, or the person who actually owns it you suppose, strawberry backpack. Your stomach rumbles a bit at the sight and you pause for a moment. Damn. You're much hungrier than you thought.<<else>>You make sure the blade on your side is latched on tight and hidden beneath the bottom of your shirt as you step up beside Puck and Atlas.<</if>> Both Reese and Skye return to the group, Skye waving at the other team before she turns and spots you holding the backpack. She shoots you a smile that's a bit shy, as if recognizing the irony in you handing her back something that doesn't even belong to her. She takes it with a quick thank you though, and as she loops it over her shoulders, you turn away but not before catching sight of something. On her legs, covered up by one the various stickers she has stuck to the light metal, is a small symbol, one that is just dark enough to make out even from here. A crown. That's Institute tech. Where'd she get that? You don't even have a second to ask, meeting her eyes for a split second as she follows your gaze before going uncharacteristically quiet, blinking at you for a second before ducking her head and stepping away towards the exit. Odd. [[Next|court leave]]

<<set $rdogtag to true>><<if hasVisited("bball end")>>Skye and Reese return with you in their own time, Skye excitedly laughing with another member of the team before she runs back and Reese steps over while wiping at his brow. You follow as <<if $bald is true>>you wipe some of the sweat from the back of your neck<</if>><<if $headscarf is true>>you tug at the fabric of your headscarf and fan yourself faintly<</if>><<if $hair is true>>you tug a hand through your own hair<</if>>, taking your time to stretch a little as the others collect their things. You do, however, manage to spot Reese as he tugs his jacket on, in particular spotting a silver necklace wrapped loosely around his neck.<<else>>“Yeah, one moment.” You reply, stretching out your back a bit before you stand up beside them. You pick up Reese's jacket and step out of the way, closer to the exit as Puck, on the other hand, moves closer and picks up the strawberry backpack for Skye. Both Reese and Skye return to the group, Skye waving at the other team as Reese eyes you holding his jacket. You expect him to make some kind of smart comment, but he just gives you a small nod, gently lifting the jacket from your hands as he tugs the coat over his shoulders. From this angle, you can make out a silver necklace wrapped loosely around his neck.<</if>> Dog tags. How does he have dog tags? “You know, you have a staring problem.” You blink rapidly as your gaze snatches to meet his eyes, pupils narrowed into slits as he glares at you. You raise your brows slightly. <<if $genuine > 50>>“Sorry.” You murmur, not really putting your all into the apology as you glance away. Maybe now isn't the best time to ask. Not like there's plenty of chances with him anyways. Your gaze does linger a little, though.<<else>>“You've got a glaring problem.” You snark back with a slight smirk. His glare only grows harder, to no one's surprise, and you scoff and turn your head away, unwilling to be put under such a stare after the last few minutes. Your gaze does linger a little, though.<</if>> //Yuan, Hou// Not his. Huh. You’ll remember that. [[Next|court leave]]

You’ve put in more effort than the Institute probably deserves already. Running around like your heads cut off, going from place to place with no to little idea of what you’re doing- it all gets very tiring. And you, for one, don’t feel like putting in the extra effort. At least not now. So, instead, you focus on just taking in your environment. Maybe you could grab something to eat while you’re out? Find someplace nice to visit? You blink a few times at that thought. You don’t even know where you’d go //to// visit someplace nice. Figures. As you walk, you find yourself naturally following streets you’re less familiar with. The day has really found its stride as the sidewalks slowly begin to fill with people. It’s difficult not to bump into someone now if you’re not paying close enough attention, and even more difficult to avoid eye contact. <<if $nervous > 50>>But you do try. <<else>>So you don’t even try anymore.<</if>> You wander from street to street, the chilly wind blowing past you and kicking up loose papers and trash along the sidewalk. As you move, you spot a peculiar trend. You suppose you’re about midway through the city, closer to the outskirts than the center of Avalon, but the activity only seems to heighten the more you explore the streets. Roads follow a normal pecking order that you can follow relatively well given your particular circumstances, but there are a set of smaller streets that constrict in on themselves, similar to the small street you remember following yesterday’s Firespitter down, but instead of decreasing in population, they do quite the opposite. There’s a lot of life to be found in the more cramped sections of the city, and something else you notice as you take a short detour through one of these more narrow streets, is that they have an unusually high number of dragon shifters. Some you can’t make out, their species clues hidden behind non-shifted forms or ambiguous colorings. Others flash colorful frills and scale patterns upon their features like it was the most natural thing in the world. It gives you a similar feeling to Merlin’s Cave, the bar you visited yesterday. A strange feeling that not so much lifts a weight off of your chest, as it instead offers to help bear it. There’s a bit too much noise. A bit too much activity. But you relax all the same. At least, enough to where you catch the way your shoulders sag slightly. The way you take more time to breathe. More time to just exist. There’s no rush here. There certainly should be. Shouldn’t there? [[Next|festival poster]]

Just because you’ve been given the opportunity to work alone, doesn’t mean you should slack off right away. You scratch at your face a little as you keep walking, steeling your shoulders a bit. Regardless of your personal feelings towards the Institute, the last thing you need on top of these past exhausting hours is to stir the pot even more. At least with this. So you keep your eyes open, and you keep your senses prepared. You won’t let this opportunity, if it does even happen, pass you by. At least you’re wandering aimlessly until then. As you walk, you find yourself naturally following streets you’re less familiar with. The day has really found its stride as the sidewalks slowly begin to fill with people. It’s difficult not to bump into someone now if you’re not paying close enough attention, and even more difficult to avoid eye contact. <<if $nervous > 50>>But you do try. <<else>>So you don’t even try anymore.<</if>> You wander from street to street, the chilly wind blowing past you and kicking up loose papers and trash along the sidewalk. As you move, you spot a peculiar trend. You suppose you’re about midway through the city, closer to the outskirts than the center of Avalon, but the activity only seems to heighten the more you explore the streets. Roads follow a normal pecking order that you can follow relatively well given your particular circumstances, but there are a set of smaller streets that constrict in on themselves, similar to the small street you remember following yesterday’s Firespitter down, but instead of decreasing in population, they do quite the opposite. There’s a lot of life to be found in the more cramped sections of the city, and something else you notice as you take a short detour through one of these more narrow streets, is that they have an unusually high number of dragon shifters. Some you can’t make out, their species clues hidden behind non-shifted forms or ambiguous colorings. Others flash colorful frills and scale patterns upon their features like it was the most natural thing in the world. It gives you a similar feeling to Merlin’s Cave, the bar you visited yesterday. A strange feeling that not so much lifts a weight off of your chest, as it instead offers to help bear it. There’s a bit too much noise. A bit too much activity. But you relax all the same. At least, enough to where you catch the way your shoulders sag slightly. The way you take more time to breathe. More time to just exist. There’s no rush here. There certainly should be. Shouldn’t there? You have a job to do, after all. [[Next|festival poster]]

Something catches your eye that stops you in your tracks, unconsciously cutting a line in the flow of people that you quickly correct before stepping closer to the side of the nearest brick wall. It’s a poster, pasted a little haphazardly onto the wall. You don’t even identify what it’s advertising before you note what it’s covering. A tattered poster is pasted beneath it with a familiar palette, despite its faded colors, and an even more familiar three-pronged symbol hidden and torn slightly ragged. A King Institute poster. You check around it and note that there’s plenty of room, and few posters stuck at all to your surroundings. A few on a couple of poles, maybe. This was intentional coverage. You hum a bit to yourself. You’re in better company than you thought. The advertisement covering the old Institute propaganda is a stark contrast to the dulled beige and blues of the former, instead a bright and frankly irritating red and gold, as it displays its title in bold, exaggerated lettering. “You ever been to the festival?” <<if $expressive > 50>>You jump, letting out a sudden shout as you leap back from your position close to the wall, nearly knocking into the stranger who hadn’t heard approach to your side. <<else>>You stiffen instantly, whipping around to face the stranger who you hadn’t heard approach to your side. Instinctively, you step back, hand to your side flexed dangerously before you let out a small breath and settle.<</if>> “Ah- sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!” The stranger laughs, giving you very much the impression that he doesn’t mean it. The man in front of you is average in height, with dark brown skin and curly black hair. He raises his palms up in a placating gesture, grinning a bit too widely, and you can easily spot his sharpened canines. Dragon-shifter. A tacky one too. He’s wearing a bright red button up, the loose fabric reminiscent of the colors on the poster before your thoughts are tugged back to the conversation again. [[Next|festival talk]]

“What?” You ask, shaking off the moment as you cock your head at the man. He nods back to the poster and you check it again. “The Dragon Day festival? You interested?” He asks again. You blink at the poster for a moment. Ah. That’s certainly what it says. The text is big and blatant, along with a cute image of a western and Chinese dragon dancing together. Below are some dates and times, but you don’t digest them in time before another question is hurtled your way. “Have you ever been?” The stranger asks, again, this time with his hands on his hips. “Um. No.” You reply a bit blankly, a bit at a loss as you gaze at the poster. A festival? A celebration of some kind? You rack your brain for a moment, trying to think of any mentions of this celebration you might have picked up before. <<if $dragonfear is true>>For a moment, the implication settles in uncomfortably, like a knot in your throat. Celebration. That disquiets you more than you’re willing to admit.<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>>The clear implication of an event like this makes your heart rate pick up a bit. Celebration. That means something to you, more than you can articulate.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>The implication of what that means settles quietly over you for a moment. Celebration. Your expression twitches as the idea brings a surprising spark of excitement racing up your spine. Huh.<</if>> “You should stop by. Can’t miss it.” The man replies, shrugging his shoulders with another bright grin. You hesitate for a minute, looking back at the poster. Could you spare some time from the Institute? Would you even want to? Uneasiness at the idea of the Institute building watching over a celebration like this pricks at you like sweat down your neck. [[Next|skye meet ground]]

<<if hasVisited("No. I should really make sure I don’t slip up on this.")>>You shake your head. No. Wait. Not the time. You raise your hands and frown, getting back down to business. “Actually, I’m looking for someone. Have you seen a Venomspitter with a strawberry backpack?” You ask, internally cursing yourself at how awkward that sentence sounded. The stranger doesn’t seem thrown off by it though. Much the opposite. He raises his eyebrows and jerks his thumb behind him, just over his shoulder. “Oh you mean her?”<<else>>You practically feel yourself dropping your mission as you open your mouth to ask more about this ‘Dragon Day’, before something else catches your eye. It’s easy to be distracted with this much bright activity in such an enclosed space. Especially with a backpack that bright. Wait.<</if>> It’s then that you spot her. What you first note about her are her fangs, long daggers that peek from her lips even as she remains mostly human. Her sepia skin is speckled with dark freckles, a green cropped hoodie covering a black undershirt while she leans up on pair of prosthetic legs that seem covered with all sorts of bright and irregular stickers that you cant identify from here. She’s peering over a counter at someone’s wares, tail swishing behind her without a care in the world, even as the sails on the end obscure peoples walking. Possibly the most important thing though, is the bright, fuzzy backpack that she hoists over a shoulder. Exactly what you’re looking for. “No shot…” You murmur to yourself, blinking in surprise. You don’t know if you should be awed by the convenience or cursing the very path you’ve set upon that landed you in such a miracle of a position. The stranger to your front glances over his shoulder, tracing your line of sight, but doesn’t say anything, instead smiling a bit awkwardly at the clear diverting of your attention. You need to take this chance. Maybe you’ll even get a raise. <<if $genuine < 50>>Haha. That’s funny.<<else>>Ugh. Never mind.<</if>> [[Whatever. I’m just gonna grab her.|stg ground skye]] [[Sneak attack. Take her off guard.|dex ground skye]] [[No. I need to wait another moment to asses this.|int ground skye]] [[Wait. Maybe I can just talk to her.|cha ground skye]]

For a second, you glance back at the humans, who are back to talking among themselves and sharing grins and laughter, this time with a couple of towels and water bottles being passed between them. You don't intend to stare, but are snapped back to reality at someone calling your name. “$name? You good?” Puck asks. You blink at them. They seem to have a habit of calling you out of your own head. <<if $nickname is true>>Actually, thinking about it, you recognize with a start that they know your name, but not your nickname? Do you even want to tell them? [[Tell Puck your nickname.]] [[Don't tell Puck your nickname.]]<<else>>You shake your head, clearing the spiderwebs in your head as you nod and follow after them off of the court, glancing over your shoulder one last time, hand rested against the fence door, before you lift it off and leave.<</if>> [[Next|doggy!!]]

The walk to the sandwich shop was a lot closer than you anticipated, just a block or two down the road from the basketball courts. Despite the activity, the group doesn’t seem to quiet down, quite the opposite in fact. It’s like a weight has been lifted off the shoulders of a few of them, Reese and Puck most noticeably. Skye stays about the same, pointing at cute dogs and pretty outfits as you all walk much to the distain of Atlas, but the other two are much more responsive this time. You feel it too, as you linger a bit in the back of the group for a second. Like coming down from a high mountain, the air down here is a lot less thin. Skye screeches and everyone stops. <<if $nervous > 50>>You jump.<<else>>You halt as well.<</if>> Suddenly, she crouches down in front of a similarly spooked stranger, babbling incoherencies to something below her. As you near a bit, you notice she’s mumbling excited praise to a small dog, a short Pomeranian of some kind, holding the small canine up by the front paws. You blink at her incredulously. Casting a look back up to its owner, they remain a bit spooked, but ease up as it’s quickly clear what’s going on. “Skye please-“ Puck exclaims, awkwardly laughing as they step up to the owner and quickly apologize on behalf of Skye, striking up a conversation in the meantime. You, on the other hand, spot the Venomspitter glancing up to you, pausing in her excitement to share it with you as she waves you over. <<if $snick is true>>“$nickname!<<else>>"$name!<</if>> You gotta pet this guy, she’s so soft!” She squeals. Atlas, meanwhile, is slashing glances at other people along the sidewalk, checking the crowd in an almost calculating way as if daring people to get too close. You have plenty of room to breathe, that’s for sure. You… [[Pet the dog. Obviously.]] [[Leave the dog alone.]]

<<set $pnick to true>>You whirl around to them, stepping towards the exit with the others as you lift a hand to keep their attention for a while longer. “Actually,” You start. “You can just call me $nickname, if that's alright.” Puck smiles again softly as they recognize the significance of the moment, giving you a nod that seems almost grateful. “Of course, $nickname.” They chuckle quietly, turning back around as they walk off of the court. [[Next|doggy!!]]

You shut your mouth before you can speak any further. It doesn't seem exactly pressing to be sharing nicknames so consistently. After all, these people are still strangers. Especially Puck, who technically still works for the King Institute. Instead, you simply nod and follow along as they turn and step off of the court. [[Next|doggy!!]]

Like you’d choose anything else. You are quick to step over to her, crouching down and gently holding out a hand for the Pomeranian to sniff. She hesitates as Skye sets her down finally, staring cautiously up at you for a moment with big, brown eyes that instantly melt you. <<if $species is "frostspitter">>Impressive, especially given your species.<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>Not particularly impressive, given your species, but you won't make a fuss.<</if>> The little dog gently sniffs your hand, stepping forwards as the little thing gently licks at your hand before you turn over your palm and carefully pet her on the head. <<if $proestheticarm is false>>She’s soft. Really soft. Not even prickly like some small dogs are.<</if>> You can tell she’s getting a little old, some gray hairs around her muzzle and paws. A life well lived, you think. “I think she likes you.” You blink, raising your head at the noise. It’s the owner, smiling down at you and Skye as they look at you. Are they human? You can’t tell exactly from their eyes, and their smile isn’t wide enough for you to see sharpened fangs. Puck is staring too, but not at the dog. At you. They’re looking at you with their mouth parted slightly, as if what they’re watching is nothing short of something to be awed at. You meet their gaze for a second and they blink before glancing away, adjusting their glasses as they apologize again to the owner. You feel a bit confused, but glance back down at the Pomeranian who rubs her head into your hand. <<if $expressive < 50>>You nod in response.<<else>>“I hope so.” You reply simply. <</if>> You stand after a second, the attention making you a bit unsure of what to do with yourself now. Thankfully, Reese is quick to pick back up the thread, clearing his throat as he shoves past the group and gestures for everyone to follow. “We gonna keep getting distracted by every new thing on the street? Or are we getting some goddamn sandwiches?” He asks almost accusatorially. Atlas, for once, doesn’t disagree, shuffling off quickly as the rest of you follow. With only a few more steps, you and the others find yourselves standing in front of a wide, squat restaurant. It’s done up in a retro style, with red, blue, and white paint giving it a feel of something more akin to a barber shop than a restaurant. You can’t be all too sure it wasn’t just like this when whoever owns it now bought the space, however. It looks well-worn. Whatever the case may be, Reese is the first to step inside, rolling his shoulders as he doesn’t even wait to take up a table next to the wide side-window that looks out into the street you just came from. You enter much the same, seeing that the spot Reese took is a circular booth, the large semicircle seat around a round white table. As the others are beginning to seat themselves in turn, you get the opportunity to sit next to anyone you want before everyone’s settled. The edge seat is yours. You sit next to… [[Atlas|sandwich atlas]] [[Puck|sandwich puck]] [[Skye|sandwich skye]] [[Reese|sandwich reese]]

The dog already looks a little… jostled. You quirk up an eyebrow but don’t move any closer, Skye simply shrugging and turning her attention back to the fuzzball. She mumbles babied nonsense to the Pomeranian for a few more moments before Puck gently taps her on the shoulder to catch her attention. They look… in all honesty a little ashamed, cheeks faintly flushed. You instinctively prepare for the chastising, the arguments, the glares— but it all ends quietly. “Come on Skye. Let’s go get some food.” They mumble rather quietly. Skye doesn’t even look disappointed for a second, quickly hopping onto the next thing as she sets the dog down, giving her a small peck on the head before jumping up and waving to the owner before everyone begins walking again. Odd. You have to remind yourself to relax your shoulders. With only a few more steps, you and the others find yourselves standing in front of a wide, squat restaurant. It’s done up in a retro style, with red, blue, and white paint giving it a feel of something more akin to a barber shop than a restaurant. You can’t be all too sure it wasn’t just like this when whoever owns it now bought the space, however. It looks well-worn. Whatever the case may be, Reese is the first to step inside, rolling his shoulders as he doesn’t even wait to take up a table next to the wide side-window that looks out into the street you just came from. You enter much the same, seeing that the spot Reese took is a circular booth, the large semicircle seat around a round white table. As the others are beginning to seat themselves in turn, you get the opportunity to sit next to anyone you want before everyone’s settled. The edge seat is yours. You sit next to… [[Atlas|sandwich atlas]] [[Puck|sandwich puck]] [[Skye|sandwich skye]] [[Reese|sandwich reese]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos +=10)>>You seat yourself next to Atlas, sliding into the cushioned seat to his side as you try and make yourself comfortable. Atlas, for his part, doesn’t say anything, but you catch the very clear look of surprise on his face as you choose to sit beside him. His eyes search yours for a moment, his lips almost pulled back into a frown, before he snaps his head away, dashing the moment against the rocks. You breathe out a subtle sigh and readjust in your seat. Just as quickly as you settle in, you catch sight of the shop's menu, sketched onto a large whiteboard hung over the cash register. You can make out some of the items, but even at a brief glance you feel your stomach rumbling in response. You’re hungrier than you thought. “I’ll order for us. What do y’all want?” Puck interrupts your thoughts with a slight twang to their voice, standing as they lay their lab coat across the seat behind them. You hear the tell-tale sound of some small metal object clinking in the pocket. Maybe keys. “Caesar Salad.” Atlas orders. “Ooh! Turkey and cheese with a soda!” Skye follows. “Just a turkey and ham.” Reese finishes. You, on the other hand… [[Order with the others.|sit order skye]] [[Order at the front with Puck.|stand order puck]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos +=10)>>You seat yourself next to Puck, sliding into the cushioned seat to their side as you try and make yourself comfortable. Puck notices you adjusting on your seat and is quick to scoot into the booth closer to allow you some more room. They flash you a quick smile as they do, small and almost shy as they afford you some space. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a person as big as them and take up as little space as they manage. It makes you a bit perplexed, but the moment is quickly lost as they focus their attention elsewhere with a quick adjustment of their glasses. “Oh! I’ll order for everyone!” Skye starts excitedly, practically jumping out of her seat as she places both hands on the table. <<if $nervous > 50>>You jump a bit at how fast she gets up.<<else>>You raise your eyebrows a bit at how fast she gets up.<</if>> “What does everyone want?” “Caesar Salad.” Atlas orders. “Could I just get an everything bagel?” Puck asks, sitting up a little in the process. “Just a turkey and ham.” Reese finishes. You, on the other hand… [[Order with the others.|sit order puck]] [[Order at the front with Skye.|stand order skye]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>You seat yourself next to Skye, sliding into the cushioned seat to her side as you try and make yourself comfortable. Skye glances over to you, curls and earrings bouncing as she spots you adjusting and grins, fangs on display once more. She grins like she’s never doubted a smile in her life. Or maybe never considered it. You scoot up a tad and she does the same, taking full advantage of your choice to sit next to her. You raise a brow at her but she doesn’t seem to notice and instead leans over the table to focus her attention elsewhere. An odd one. Just as quickly as you settle in, you catch sight of the shop's menu, sketched onto a large whiteboard hung over the cash register. You can make out some of the items, but even at a brief glance you feel your stomach rumbling in response. You’re hungrier than you thought. “I’ll order for us. What do y’all want?” Puck interrupts your thoughts with a slight twang to their voice, standing as they lay their lab coat across the seat behind them. You hear the tell-tale sound of some small metal object clinking in the pocket. Maybe keys. “Caesar Salad.” Atlas orders. “Ooh! Turkey and cheese with a soda!” Skye follows. “Just a turkey and ham.” Reese finishes. You, on the other hand… [[Order with the others.|sit order skye]] [[Order at the front with Puck.|stand order puck]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reeserelationshippos +=10)>>You seat yourself next to Reese, sliding into the cushioned seat to his side as you try and make yourself comfortable. Spotting your quick approach before he can get squeezed in between people, Reese raises an eyebrow in your direction, arms already resting on the tops of the seat before he pulls them down right as you fully settle in, crossing his arms quickly and letting out a huff through his nose. Did he… not expect anyone to sit beside him? He doesn’t say anything, still determined to leaning back against the seat, no matter how stiffly now. Just as quickly as you settle in, you catch sight of the shop's menu, sketched onto a large whiteboard hung over the cash register. You can make out some of the items, but even at a brief glance you feel your stomach rumbling in response. You’re hungrier than you thought. “I’ll order for us. What do y’all want?” Puck interrupts your thoughts with a slight twang to their voice, standing as they lay their lab coat across the seat behind them. You hear the tell-tale sound of some small metal object clinking in the pocket. Maybe keys. “Caesar Salad.” Atlas orders. “Ooh! Turkey and cheese with a soda!” Skye follows. “Just a turkey and ham.” Reese finishes. You, on the other hand… [[Order with the others.|sit order skye]] [[Order at the front with Puck.|stand order puck]]

You settle into your seat a bit and take a quick look over the menu again. “I’ll have…” [[“A bagel.”|skye sandwich talk][$order to "bagel"]] [[“A grilled cheese sandwich.”|skye sandwich talk][$order to "grilled cheese"]] [[“Tomato soup.”|skye sandwich talk][$order to "tomato soup"]] [[“Ham and cheese sandwich.”|skye sandwich talk][$order to "ham and cheese"]] [[“Turkey sandwich.”|skye sandwich talk][$order to "turkey"]]

You raise a hand as you stand after Puck, glancing up as you stand and check with the others. “I’ll order up front.” You’re quick to reason, stepping away as you follow Puck to the front counter, who glances over their shoulder to give you a quick nod and small smile of acknowledgement. Thankfully, the shop isn’t too crowded, and the front counter is fairly close to your seats, the cashier busy taking an order as she nods with the customer up first. You’re left with a brief moment of respite with Puck, who’s already taking out their wallet with no words exchanged. You consider for a moment if you should offer to pay for it, but quickly dismiss the notion. You’re not exactly swimming in cash right now anyways. Maybe it’s best to let the career scientist handle the price. Either way, you have the time to ask some questions. [[“So what do you do for the Institute?”]] [[“How long have you lived in the city?”]] [[“How did you meet Atlas?”]]

You settle into your seat a bit and take a quick look over the menu again. “I’ll have…” [[“A bagel.”|puck sandwich talk][$order to "bagel"]] [[“A grilled cheese sandwich.”|puck sandwich talk][$order to "grilled cheese"]] [[“Tomato soup.”|puck sandwich talk][$order to "tomato soup"]] [[“Ham and cheese sandwich.”|puck sandwich talk][$order to "ham and cheese"]] [[“Turkey sandwich.”|puck sandwich talk][$order to "turkey"]]

<<set $sfangs to true>>You raise a hand as you stand after Skye, glancing up as you stand and check with the others. “I’ll order up front.” You’re quick to reason, stepping away as you follow Skye to the front counter, who practically whips around to give you a wide grin as she takes your hand suddenly and pulls you to the front with her before letting go. Thankfully, the shop isn’t too crowded, and the front counter is fairly close to your seats, the cashier busy taking an order as she nods with the customer up first. Skye leans forwards on the counter, staring up at the menu before glancing to the cashier then back to you. “What were you thinkin’ of ordering?” She asks suddenly, causing you to check the blackboard menu once again. You think for a moment, pressing your tongue against your teeth as your asses the menu. “Still looking.” You hum in response. Skye doesn’t falter, instead quietly making for her pocket, where she pulls out her wallet. It looks… surprisingly bulky? You almost open your mouth to jump in, to offer to pay for your part or maybe even more. But you’re very quick to shut your mouth this time. It’s not like you’re exactly swimming in cash. Maybe after a few hundred sandwiches being paid for you can save up a fraction of the court costs you need. Ugh. At least it gives you time to ask some questions. [[“So how long have you lived in the city?”]] [[“Do you show your fangs all the time?”]] [[“Are you rich or something?”]]

“So what do you do for the Institute?” You prompt, craning your head back as you take a moment to stare up at the menu. You figure this is one of the easiest questions, you already have a semi-solid grasp of the answer anyways. Puck seems to agree, nodding a bit before they speak up. “Technological development, mostly.” They reply. You snort. Exactly the answer the label on their lab door gave. Puck doesn’t seem to notice though, and continues. “I’m responsible for a lot of mechanical oversight with their computer science field, mostly clearing their prototypes for future use.” <<if $intadd > 40>>You nod, following along for the most part, and they notice, smiling a bit in something akin to awe as they glance to you. “Usually I have to reexplain myself a bit, you got all that?” They ask, their chuckle rumbling a bit in their chest. You smile a tiny bit and give them a shrug back. “It’s not rocket science.” You reply. They laugh a bit harder at that, shoulders rolling, and shake their head as they glance away again. “No, just regular science.”<<else>>You drop your head back down to blink at them, and they notice, smiling a bit awkwardly as they laugh a bit and lean in conspiratorially, whispering to you with a shine in their eyes. “Basically I help stop them from fucking up.” They chuckle. You smile a bit back. That makes more sense. You’re thankful they’re willing to tone down the professional language from time to time, a welcome reprieve from how Atlas speaks in tongues.<</if>> [[“How did you meet Atlas?”|atlas puckq 2]] [[“How long have you lived in the city?”|city puckq 2]]

“How long have you lived in the city?” You ask, leaning over the counter a bit. They hum a little, staring at the person ordering in front of you both, who is slowly wrapping things up. This answer seems to come a bit slower to them as the scientist counts things up in their head, but after a moment, they seem satisfied, nodding decisively. “About six years now?” They blink with a small exasperated noise, rearing their head back a bit. “Wow, it’s been a lot longer than I remembered.” You nod but grimace just a tiny bit to yourself. Is it that easy to find oneself stuck in this city for so long? You don’t suppose Puck is particularly as set on the idea of leaving as you are, clearly, but the idea still makes your stomach churn a bit. Puck, as if noticing your change in mood even as they don’t turn to look at you, speaks up again. “Ended up learning about the best food joints, though. Nothing to complain about there.” They shrug. You smile a tiny bit to yourself. You guess that’s a positive, at least. The bar from last night was certainly a plus, even if the company was a bit… intense. [[“How did you meet Atlas?”|atlas puckq 3]] [[“So what do you do for the Institute?”|inst puckq 3]]

“How did you meet Atlas?” You ask, tracing a finger over a deep scar in the wood of the countertop as you wait. It’s a question you aren’t even certain you were going to ask before it comes out of your mouth, something that seems far less important in the grand scheme of things, but about as significant as it could be when you’re taking a break in a sandwich shop. Puck chuckles at this, shaking their head as they sort through a few crisp dollars in their wallet. “Ohhh, now isn’t //that// the question.” They huff, an almost melancholic look on their face. You stare at them for a moment, now much more intrigued by how they seem to search through specific memories to pull out the answer. “It’s honestly a lot less interesting than how you two met, but we met at a work event.” Your eyebrows quirk up at that. “Institute?” Puck nods. “Institute. They hold annual conferences, kind of like a big sponsor party, but invite a lot of workers to them too.” They fill in, shrugging their shoulders as they seem to find what they’re looking for in their wallet and close it. You nod and think to yourself for a moment. Hm. A conference. Even just the idea of it makes your shoulders stiffen. If being inside of the belly of the beast was bad, you can only imagine how much worse it’d be in a place where you were expected to be on your best behavior. [[“So what do you do for the Institute?”|inst puckq 4]] [[“How long have you lived in the city?”|city puckq 2]]

“How long have you lived in the city?” You ask, wanting to get to the bottom of a rather simple question that has been bothering you for a bit. “Oh I’ve lived in the city my whole life!” She replies with a grin, back to being as peppy as ever. You pause. Her whole life? You’d be less surprised if she admitted this was her first day on //earth//, much less her first day in the city. “It’s great here, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else!” Now she’s //got// to be lying. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else? You know your experiences are wildly different, but you can’t wrap your head around the idea of genuinely enjoying yourself fully here. Maybe she’s just seen the good parts. Like Merlin’s Cave and the sprawling skies. Hm. You suppose there’s more good than you originally gave credit for. Still doesn’t change the facts. “Your whole life? You act like everything around you is new.” You point out. She giggles a bit at that and scratches at the back of her neck. “Ehhh yeah… I was a bit sheltered.” She offers simply in response. Huh. Guess that’s it then. [[“Do you show your fangs all the time?”|fangs skyeq 3]] [[“Are you rich or something?”|rich skyeq 3]]

“Do you show your fangs all the time?” You prompt, slowing your words just slightly enough to be reasonably cautious. You know from Reese’s response that a question like this can be //touchy// at best, so you make sure you’re eyeing the menu above you as you ask. You hear Skye laugh a bit, but this ones a bit exasperated. It doesn’t sound like her. “Yeah it’s a uh…” She trails off, and you sneak a glance over at her out of the corner of your eye. Her attention is similarly drawn away, and you can spot her eyes flicking over the customer ahead of you both and the cashier, clearly considering her own words. Before you can try and clear the air though, she finishes her thought. “It’s a birth defect. Solenoglyphous extrusion. Can’t shift ‘em in, can’t shift ‘em out.” She finally adds, turning her head back in time to catch your eye, but you don’t feel the need to glance away as there’s a more serious expression on her face now. More serious than you’ve seen from her before, at least. <<if $breathweapon is false>>You know firsthand what it’s like to lack something more of less //inherent// to shifters. This feels no different, really. Like a mutual pang to the chest.<<else>> You’ve heard of some shifters who couldn’t use their breath weapons, something commonly associated with being a shifter, so this feels no different. You don’t exactly have this in common, but you can’t help but understand the outcasts point of view.<</if>> You nod. You don’t know how else to respond. Saying //sorry// feels vile even in your throat. Skye seems to appreciate even the response you feel is lacking, smiling back at you quietly. [[“So how long have you lived in the city?”|city skyeq 2]] [[“Are you rich or something?”|rich skyeq 2]]

“Are you rich or something?” You joke, mostly intending the words to fall short as you spot Skye wrestling with her wallet, which looks close to bursting at this point. She actually pauses a bit to consider this question, throwing you a kind of strange look as she ducks her head somewhat. That’s odd. You didn’t really intend for that question to actually hit at something. “Ah- no, just needed some funds to go out.” She replies curtly with a bit of a shrug. You pause and stare at her for a moment, but choose not to press the issue. Doesn’t seem like something she’s comfortable with talking about, which is a bit strange considering how open she is about everything else. Maybe it’s in your best interest not to push things. You personally would love to come into a sudden influx of wealth, it would certainly clear up a lot of your current issues. “I don’t think the sandwiches are going to be //that// much.” You add with a faint laugh, nodding at her hands, which are clenched around a stack of bills. Skye looks down, counts them again, and laughs brightly, nodding in return as you share a moment that helps your shoulders relax just a bit. “I think you’re onto something.” [[“Do you show your fangs all the time?”|fangs skyeq 4]] [[“So how long have you lived in the city?”|city skyeq 4]]

<<set $sfangs to true>>Puck nods, turning away as they leave for the front counter. You have… about two seconds of peace before Atlas clears his throat and leans over the table, curling his hands together. At least they’re not talons. You glance at him, but quickly follow his eye and see that he’s not staring at you this time, but instead Skye. Uh oh. This could get nasty quick. “You’ve so far given us no information on you, //Skye//. What’s your last name?” He starts, eyes quickly narrowing at the smaller shifter. She blinks at him, seemingly unprepared for his accusation, and for once, you can see her bubbly exterior falter. She hesitates. [[“Hey hey hey- we don’t need to escalate here, right?”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Back up man.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[Stay quiet. You want to see where this goes.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

Skye nods, turning away as she leaves for the front counter. You watch her go for a moment before checking back with the others, where there’s a strangely awkward beat of silence between you, Puck and Atlas, and Reese, who’s glaring back and forth between the two. You consider for a moment if you should jump in before something happens, but a part of you just wants to leave this all alone once more. Reese, just like a coiled up snake though, strikes when it’s least convenient. “So you’re //Puck//, right?” He snaps, tilting his head a bit at the scientist as he settles into a leaned back position that does no justice to how taut his expression is. Puck blinks at him for a moment, then laughs a bit breathily, clearly confused but not enough to cut off the conversation entirely. “Yes. Puck Bishop, if you must know. And you’re Reese Zhu, correct?” They ask back, drawing their words out a little but maintaining the politeness the Firespitter clearly isn’t aiming for. You groan internally. Not another interrogation. “You’re Institute, you tell me.” He fires back. Your hackles raise a bit as his eyes narrow and he leans in a bit, Atlas similarly looking off-put by this line of questioning. “Zhu, watch yourself.” The Frostspitter warns. Reese doesn’t listen. “What do you even //do// for the Institute? Lick their boots clean too?” He snarls. Puck looks a bit taken aback and you can tell things are slowly getting heated. [[“Hey hey hey- we don’t need to escalate here, right?”|escelate puck sandwich][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Back up man.”|back up puck sandwich][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[Stay quiet. You want to see where this goes.|quiet puck sandwich][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>“Hey hey hey- we don’t need to escalate here, right?” You’re quick to interject, raising a hand as you similarly lean over the table. You glance between the two, smiling warily as your attempt to settle the situation slowly sinks in. Atlas glances to you, turning his glare onto you, and you repress a shiver. Reese snorts. Skye, for her part though, speaks up before things progress any further. “Ah- no it’s alright! Really!” As you turn to look at her, you can spot the Venomspitter smiling again. It’s far more reserved this time, almost a bit shy, but she shoots you a very grateful look before addressing Atlas. “It’s… Cortez. Skye Cortez.” She replies, taking a deep breath before nodding. You can almost see the brightness returning to her expression. Atlas, meanwhile, seems almost dissatisfied, but not willing to push things after getting his answer. He sits back a bit. “Alright //Skye Cortez//. How long have you lived in the city? How come I’ve never seen you around?” Atlas asks, returning to his interrogation. It’s less intense as before, but you’re familiar with that tone. He’s getting answers, regardless of what you want. Your mouth twitches into a frown. “Oh I’ve lived in the city my whole life!” She replies with a grin, back to being as peppy as ever. You pause. Her whole life? You’d be less surprised if she admitted this was her first day on //earth//, much less her first day in the city. You open your mouth as if to point it out, but the answer is just as quickly buried beneath the next question. Maybe you’re the odd one out here. Eh. [[“And those?”]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reeserelationshippos +=10)>>“Back up man.” You snap at Atlas, shooting him a quick glare. He blinks, slowly craning his head towards you as he fixes you with that familiar dark stare. You stare back, unblinking. After a long moment of tense silence, you’re interrupted not by either of your breaking, but instead by Reese’s barking laughter. “Oh I’d love to see this.” He chuckles darkly, eyeing the two of you with a sharp grin. His teeth are flashed. Skye looks to him and between you two, and actually blanches, blinking as she takes in the moment. She’s clearly not accustomed to this behavior. You certainly notice. “Wait hold on- don’t do that guys-!” She exclaims, leaning forwards a bit. You blink at her carefully. If she was smart, she wouldn’t be moving so quickly in between the two of you. It’s dangerous, moving into the crossfire of animals ready to strike like that. Not like you would do that. You lean back. “It’s alright, really. And it’s… Cortez. Skye Cortez.” She replies, taking a deep breath before nodding. Atlas, meanwhile, seems almost dissatisfied, but not willing to push things after getting his answer. He shoots you a final disapproving look but sits back. “Alright //Skye Cortez//. How long have you lived in the city? How come I’ve never seen you around?” Atlas asks, returning to his interrogation. It’s less intense as before, but you’re familiar with that tone. He’s getting answers, regardless of what you want. Your mouth twitches into a frown. “Oh I’ve lived in the city my whole life!” She replies with a grin, back to being as peppy as ever. You pause. Her whole life? You’d be less surprised if she admitted this was her first day on //earth//, much less her first day in the city. You open your mouth as if to point it out, but the answer is just as quickly buried beneath the next question. Maybe you’re the odd one out here. Eh. [[“And those?”]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos +=10)>>You stay quiet, wanting to see where this goes. You want some answers too. Skye looks a bit anxious being put under this much scrutiny at once, and you see her actually squirm in her seat a bit, uneasily looking to the side. Strangely enough, she doesn’t speak first. Reese does. “You mind getting off her ass, frostface?” He growls suddenly, leaned back against his seat with an eyebrow quirked and eyes narrowed. You feel the air around the table heat up a bit. A small, but noticeable change. An intentional one. And Atlas senses it too. “Defending her now? What changed Zhu?” The Frostspitter snipes back. You groan internally. Oh great. Not this again. You’ve been put through enough of these arguments between these two to last a lifetime. Or a few hundred. Thankfully, you don’t have to suffer long, as Skye suddenly interrupts before things escalate. “Woah woah no need for that guys-! It’s okay, really!” She exclaims, glancing between the two as she raises her hands to placate the rising tension. It miraculously works, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking, but the two look to her now. “It’s… Cortez. Skye Cortez.” She replies, taking a deep breath before nodding. Reese gives her a long look, but it’s nowhere near as scathing as the one he shot Atlas. You blink at the two of them. Huh. Atlas, meanwhile, seems almost dissatisfied, but not willing to push things after getting his answer. “Alright //Skye Cortez//. How long have you lived in the city? How come I’ve never seen you around?” Atlas asks, returning to his interrogation. It’s less intense as before, but you’re familiar with that tone. He’s getting answers, regardless of what you want. Your mouth twitches into a frown. “Oh I’ve lived in the city my whole life!” She replies with a grin, back to being as peppy as ever. You pause. Her whole life? You’d be less surprised if she admitted this was her first day on //earth//, much less her first day in the city. You open your mouth as if to point it out, but the answer is just as quickly buried beneath the next question. Maybe you’re the odd one out here. Eh. [[“And those?”]]

Skye blinks, tilting her head a bit as she gives him a confused laugh. Surprisingly, she looks to you, as if you’d be able to make sense of that vague question. <<if $atlasrelationship < 50>>You’re frankly a bit insulted she thinks you can translate. You don’t want to be associated that closely with the Frostspitter.<<else>>You try to give it a shot, looking back to the Frostspitter analytically for a moment. His eyebrow twitches. Nothing. Worth a shot.<</if>> “Your fangs.” Atlas clears up. He gestures with a hand and you are suddenly reminded of his behavior towards Reese the night before. Reese remembers too. His eyes narrow and you spot the pupil constrict into a familiar sharp shape. <<if $expressive > 50>>You rub your shoulder a bit uncomfortably.<<else>>You eye him warily.<</if>> “Isn’t that a bit threatening for someone who claims to be innocent?” Skye looks clearly a bit taken aback, her face growing a bit flushed as if embarrassed by the callout. Just when you’re readying for another uncomfortable back and forth though, you catch her expression shift again. Like the questioning just bounced right off of her, a smile breaks through the embarrassment. Through the shame. You can’t help but to admire that. “Ah. Sorry I didn’t mean-“ She starts, cutting herself off as she scratches at her cheek and laughs a bit awkwardly before shrugging. Seems like she’s made up her mind about something. “I can’t exactly… put them back.” You pause. So does Reese. Atlas too, surprisingly, who blinks like he’s been struck. [[“Is something wrong?”][$skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos -=10)]] [[“Oh, no worries then.”][$skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)]]

“Is something wrong?” You ask, confusion mixing with a tad bit of frustration. You scratch at the back of your head. Couldn’t she be clearer? “You can’t shift them?” Skye idles for a second, tapping her fingers together as she looks to the side for a second uncomfortably. You can tell she’s trying not to adjust her jaw. “Um… pretty much yeah. It’s a birth defect. Solenoglyphous extrusion.” She replied, glancing up but still keeping her head down. Her tone sounded practiced. Like she’s had to explain this many times before. “So no. Can’t shift ‘em.” The Venomspitter sits back up, taking a deep breath as she offers you an awkward shrug. Reese spares her a look, but sits back in his seat just as quickly and quietly. Not a fuss for him. Is it for you? “Fine.” Atlas says simply, keeping his words blissfully short as he leans back finally. Interrogation over. Whew. The tension in the room visibly eases. You spot Puck arriving back at the perfect time, returning to the group with a nod as they give the group a once-over. You don’t really care to explain any of it to them, but it doesn’t seem to matter as they seat themselves smoothly. “This place better be worth it.” Reese huffs, leaning back against his seat as he tracks some strangers walking past with a wary eye. [[“What’s your rush? Got a date or something?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Haven’t you been here before?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I agree. Let’s eat and get out.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[You hold your tongue nervously.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

“Oh, no worries then.” You reply with a quick shrug of your shoulders. <<if $breathweapon is false>>You know firsthand what it’s like to lack something more of less //inherent// to shifters. This is no different, really.<<else>>You’ve heard of some shifters who couldn’t use their breath weapons, something commonly associated with being a shifter, so this feels no different.<</if>><<if $kind < 50>> You elbow Atlas, who sucks in a breath before glancing to you, brow furrowing before he gets the point. <<else>> You catch Atlas’s attention with a quick look, as if in warning, and thankfully he seems to get the point.<</if>> “Fine.” Atlas says simply, keeping his words blissfully short as he leans back finally. Interrogation over. Whew. The tension in the room visibly eases. You spot Puck arriving back at the perfect time, returning to the group with a nod as they give the group a once-over. You don’t really care to explain any of it to them, but it doesn’t seem to matter as they seat themselves smoothly. “This place better be worth it.” Reese huffs, leaning back against his seat as he tracks some strangers walking past with a wary eye. [[“What’s your rush? Got a date or something?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Haven’t you been here before?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I agree. Let’s eat and get out.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[You hold your tongue nervously.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

“How long have you lived in the city?” You ask, leaning over the counter a bit. They hum a little, staring at the person ordering in front of you both, who is slowly wrapping things up. This answer seems to come a bit slower to them as the scientist counts things up in their head, but after a moment, they seem satisfied, nodding decisively. “About six years now?” They blink with a small exasperated noise, rearing their head back a bit. “Wow, it’s been a lot longer than I remembered.” You nod but grimace just a tiny bit to yourself. Is it that easy to find oneself stuck in this city for so long? You don’t suppose Puck is particularly as set on the idea of leaving as you are, clearly, but the idea still makes your stomach churn a bit. Puck, as if noticing your change in mood even as they don’t turn to look at you, speaks up again. “Ended up learning about the best food joints, though. Nothing to complain about there.” They shrug. You smile a tiny bit to yourself. You guess that’s a positive, at least. The bar from last night was certainly a plus, even if the company was a bit… intense. [[“So what do you do for the Institute?”|inst puckq end]]

“How did you meet Atlas?” You ask, tracing a finger over a deep scar in the wood of the countertop as you wait. It’s a question you aren’t even certain you were going to ask before it comes out of your mouth, something that seems far less important in the grand scheme of things, but about as significant as it could be when you’re taking a break in a sandwich shop. Puck chuckles at this, shaking their head as they sort through a few crisp dollars in their wallet. “Ohhh, now isn’t //that// the question.” They huff, an almost melancholic look on their face. You stare at them for a moment, now much more intrigued by how they seem to search through specific memories to pull out the answer. “It’s honestly a lot less interesting than how you two met, but we met at a work event.” Your eyebrows quirk up at that. “Institute?” Puck nods. “Institute. They hold annual conferences, kind of like a big sponsor party, but invite a lot of workers to them too.” They fill in, shrugging their shoulders as they seem to find what they’re looking for in their wallet and close it. You nod and think to yourself for a moment. Hm. A conference. Even just the idea of it makes your shoulders stiffen. If being inside of the belly of the beast was bad, you can only imagine how much worse it’d be in a place where you were expected to be on your best behavior. [[“How long have you lived in the city?”|city puckq end]]

“So what do you do for the Institute?” You prompt, craning your head back as you take a moment to stare up at the menu. You figure this is one of the easiest questions, you already have a semi-solid grasp of the answer anyways. Puck seems to agree, nodding a bit before they speak up. “Technological development, mostly.” They reply. You snort. Exactly the answer the label on their lab door gave. Puck doesn’t seem to notice though, and continues. “I’m responsible for a lot of mechanical oversight with their computer science field, mostly clearing their prototypes for future use.” <<if $intadd > 40>>You nod, following along for the most part, and they notice, smiling a bit in something akin to awe as they glance to you. “Usually I have to reexplain myself a bit, you got all that?” They ask, their chuckle rumbling a bit in their chest. You smile a tiny bit and give them a shrug back. “It’s not rocket science.” You reply. They laugh a bit harder at that, shoulders rolling, and shake their head as they glance away again. “No, just regular science.”<<else>>You drop your head back down to blink at them, and they notice, smiling a bit awkwardly as they laugh a bit and lean in conspiratorially, whispering to you with a shine in their eyes. “Basically I help stop them from fucking up.” They chuckle. You smile a bit back. That makes more sense. You’re thankful they’re willing to tone down the professional language from time to time, a welcome reprieve from how Atlas speaks in tongues.<</if>> [[“How long have you lived in the city?”|city puckq end]]

“Know what you want?” Puck asked, raising their eyebrow as they step forwards as the customer ahead of you both finishes their order and walks off. You peer up at the menu for another moment, then nod. [[“A bagel.”|puck sandwich order][$order to "bagel"]] [[“A grilled cheese sandwich.”|puck sandwich order][$order to "grilled cheese"]] [[“Tomato soup.”|puck sandwich order][$order to "tomato soup"]] [[“Ham and cheese sandwich.”|puck sandwich order][$order to "ham and cheese"]] [[“Turkey sandwich.”|puck sandwich order][$order to "turkey"]]

“Are you rich or something?” You joke, mostly intending the words to fall short as you spot Skye wrestling with her wallet, which looks close to bursting at this point. She actually pauses a bit to consider this question, throwing you a kind of strange look as she ducks her head somewhat. That’s odd. You didn’t really intend for that question to actually hit at something. “Ah- no, just needed some funds to go out.” She replies curtly with a bit of a shrug. You pause and stare at her for a moment, but choose not to press the issue. Doesn’t seem like something she’s comfortable with talking about, which is a bit strange considering how open she is about everything else. Maybe it’s in your best interest not to push things. You personally would love to come into a sudden influx of wealth, it would certainly clear up a lot of your current issues. “I don’t think the sandwiches are going to be //that// much.” You add with a faint laugh, nodding at her hands, which are clenched around a stack of bills. Skye looks down, counts them again, and laughs brightly, nodding in return as you share a moment that helps your shoulders relax just a bit. “I think you’re onto something.” [[“So how long have you lived in the city?”|city skyeq end]]

“Do ya’ know what you want?” Skye asks, looking at you as she steps forwards as the customer ahead of you both finishes their order and walks off. You peer up at the menu for another moment, then nod. [[“A bagel.”|skye sandwich order][$order to "bagel"]] [[“A grilled cheese sandwich.”|skye sandwich order][$order to "grilled cheese"]] [[“Tomato soup.”|skye sandwich order][$order to "tomato soup"]] [[“Ham and cheese sandwich.”|skye sandwich order][$order to "ham and cheese"]] [[“Turkey sandwich.”|skye sandwich order][$order to "turkey"]]

Puck nods and orders up front for you and the others, the worker at the counter handing them back a number that they subsequently put back into their pocket before turning to you with a decisive nod. You both leave the counter. The air at the table is a bit tense, Atlas leaning back as you approach. Skye looks a bit frazzled, shaking her head and smiling as you return to the seats. Looks like you just narrowly missed the interrogation. You feel a pang of sympathy for the Venomspitter, but you can’t help but also feel glad that you avoided that bullet yourself. You and Puck sit back down. <<if hasVisited("sandwich reese")>>Reese gives you a slight nod as you seat yourself, shoulders a bit tight but easing back into things as the conversation starts back up again.<</if>><<if hasVisited("sandwich atlas")>>Atlas lets out a small breath as you seat yourself, throwing you a curious glance, but not saying anything as the conversation starts back up again.<</if>><<if hasVisited("sandwich skye")>>Skye’s small smile widens a bit as you seat yourself, not holding back her excitement as you hear the thumping of her tail, shifted out, wagging against the leather seats. The conversation starts back up again.<</if>><<if hasVisited("sandwich puck")>>As you seat yourself by Puck again, they eye the group with the same cautious curiosity.<</if>> “This place better be worth it.” Reese huffs, leaning back against his seat as he tracks some strangers walking past with a wary eye. [[“What’s your rush? Got a date or something?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Haven’t you been here before?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I agree. Let’s eat and get out.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[You hold your tongue nervously.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

Skye shakes her hands out with a nod and orders up front for you and the others, the worker at the counter handing her back a number that she subsequently put back into her pocket before turning to you with a smile. You both leave the counter. There doesn’t seem to have been much activity as you return, Reese clearly tuning Puck and Atlas out as the two share a small conversation. He opens his eyes as you and Skye return, and the Venomspitter is quick to happily squeeze back into the seat, inserting herself back into the moment. You follow her lead this time. <<if hasVisited("sandwich reese")>>Reese gives you a slight nod as you seat yourself, shoulders a bit tight but easing back into things as the conversation starts back up again.<</if>><<if hasVisited("sandwich atlas")>>Atlas lets out a small breath as you seat yourself, throwing you a curious glance, but not saying anything as the conversation starts back up again.<</if>><<if hasVisited("sandwich puck")>>Puck gives you a small smile and adjusts their glasses as you seat yourself, quietly moving to the side to give you as much space as you need as the conversation starts back up again.<</if>><<if hasVisited("sandwich skye")>>As you seat yourself by Skye again, she looks around, blinking at the others as if to try and assess what they had spoken about.<</if>> “This place better be worth it.” Reese huffs, leaning back against his seat as he tracks some strangers walking past with a wary eye. [[“What’s your rush? Got a date or something?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Haven’t you been here before?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I agree. Let’s eat and get out.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[You hold your tongue nervously.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $atlasrelationship to Math.clamp($atlasrelationshippos -=10)>>You stay quiet, wanting to see where this goes. You want some answers too. Atlas, instead, eyes Reese in warning as a low growl rumbles in his throat. Reese just as quickly snaps his eyes over to the Frostspitter, but the moment doesn’t last long before Puck sighs frustratedly and interjects before things can escalate further. “It’s fine. I do technological development. Checking their prototypes for errors, making sure everything’s running smoothly, mostly that kind of thing.” They shrug, trying to clear the air. Reese’s nose wrinkles, clearly unsatisfied. “And that stuff you talked about over Scott?” Reese points out. The tension in the air draws taut between the two, something much more intense suddenly brought up. Oh shit. The body. Right. You had forgotten why Reese and Puck had stayed behind in the lab together. Puck sours at the comment, something more clearly going on now just beneath the surface of conversation that the scientist struggles to keep calm. The two stare at each other for a long moment, and you don’t even expect Atlas to jump in again, having cast a look out the window away from the two as everyone sits in uneasy silence. You don’t feel right interjecting here. Luckily, you don’t have to for long. “Six years living in the city didn’t make me forget what I learned outside of it.” They reply back, this time much snappier and to the point. <<if $nervous > 50>>You find yourself kind of twitching at how intense the conversation has gotten, uneasiness prickling at your cheeks.<<else>>You don’t move, but your eyes more seriously take in the scene in front of you now, senses alert and tensed.<</if>> Puck, for all you know of them, doesn’t seem like the type to be so… cutting with their words. But you hardly know them at all. Much less anyone else here. Your stomach doesn’t sit right. [[Next|puck sandwich convo end]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reeserelationshippos -=10)>>“Back up man.” You warn Reese, narrowing your eyes at him a bit as if daring him to act. He doesn’t spring, but shoots you a glare right back. Surprisingly, it’s Puck who interjects, clearing their throat before things can escalate further. “It’s fine. I do technological development. Checking their prototypes for errors, making sure everything’s running smoothly, mostly that kind of thing.” They shrug, trying to clear the air. Reese’s nose wrinkles, clearly unsatisfied. “And that stuff you talked about over Scott?” Reese points out. The tension in the air draws taut between the two, something much more intense suddenly brought up. Oh shit. The body. Right. You had forgotten why Reese and Puck had stayed behind in the lab together. Puck sours at the comment, something more clearly going on now just beneath the surface of conversation that the scientist struggles to keep calm. The two stare at each other for a long moment, and you don’t even expect Atlas to jump in again, having cast a look out the window away from the two as everyone sits in uneasy silence. You don’t feel right interjecting here. Luckily, you don’t have to for long. “Six years living in the city didn’t make me forget what I learned outside of it.” They reply back, this time much snappier and to the point. <<if $nervous > 50>>You find yourself kind of twitching at how intense the conversation has gotten, uneasiness prickling at your cheeks.<<else>>You don’t move, but your eyes more seriously take in the scene in front of you now, senses alert and tensed.<</if>> Puck, for all you know of them, doesn’t seem like the type to be so… cutting with their words. But you hardly know them at all. Much less anyone else here. Your stomach doesn’t sit right. [[Next|puck sandwich convo end]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos +=10)>>“Hey hey hey- we don’t need to escalate here, right?” You’re quick to interject, raising a hand as you lean over the table a bit. You hardly want to see the people at this table tear each other apart, and for a moment, you feel a pang of regret for not following Skye back up. Puck, however, seems to recover as they shoot you a grateful look but raise a hand in turn, giving you a nod before turning back to look more seriously at Reese. “It’s fine. I do technological development. Checking their prototypes for errors, making sure everything’s running smoothly, mostly that kind of thing.” They shrug, trying to clear the air. Reese’s nose wrinkles, clearly unsatisfied. “And that stuff you talked about over Scott?” Reese points out. The tension in the air draws taut between the two, something much more intense suddenly brought up. Oh shit. The body. Right. You had forgotten why Reese and Puck had stayed behind in the lab together. Puck sours at the comment, something more clearly going on now just beneath the surface of conversation that the scientist struggles to keep calm. The two stare at each other for a long moment, and you don’t even expect Atlas to jump in again, having cast a look out the window away from the two as everyone sits in uneasy silence. You don’t feel right interjecting here. Luckily, you don’t have to for long. “Six years living in the city didn’t make me forget what I learned outside of it.” They reply back, this time much snappier and to the point. <<if $nervous > 50>>You find yourself kind of twitching at how intense the conversation has gotten, uneasiness prickling at your cheeks.<<else>>You don’t move, but your eyes more seriously take in the scene in front of you now, senses alert and tensed.<</if>> Puck, for all you know of them, doesn’t seem like the type to be so… cutting with their words. But you hardly know them at all. Much less anyone else here. Your stomach doesn’t sit right. [[Next|puck sandwich convo end]]

The uneasiness in the air is snapped as Skye suddenly returns, excitedly interjecting as she splays her palms against the table and leans over to grin at you all, entirely unaware or just plain ignoring the clear turn in the conversation. “Heya! Ordered everything, should only be a bit more!” She informs, just as quickly sitting down and pushing herself back into her spot. You don’t know if you’re grateful that she’s here now, or all the more prickly. It’s hard to pin down, but at least the conversation has shifted. You spot Reese easing up along with Puck, who adjusts their glasses and offers Skye a clearly strained stretch of a smile before they lean back too. Atlas clears his throat before folding his hands in front of him, quickly redirecting the atmosphere though it's Reese who speaks up first. “This place better be worth it.” Reese huffs, leaning back against his seat as he tracks some strangers walking past with a wary eye. [[“What’s your rush? Got a date or something?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Haven’t you been here before?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I agree. Let’s eat and get out.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[You hold your tongue nervously.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]]

<<if $stgadd >=40>>You don’t think hesitating will do you any good. She’s distracted, she’s out in the open, she’s vulnerable. Makes your job easier. You can interrogate her once you actually have your hands on her. No need for this to escalate, she looks small enough anyways. You lurch forwards, not even bothering to hide your intent as you focus in on the Venomspitter and push forwards to her. The man to your side lets out a small confused noise, but you’re pretty sure it’s the sound of you almost running up to her that alerts her. The Venomspitter swings around to spot you, eyes going wide as she tenses in place. You stretch out a hand, ready to grab on and finish this, but you find your hand gripping nothing but air as a faint whipping noise alerts you to how quickly your quarry ducked out from under you. What the hell? Your eyes widen as you snap your eyes to your side, spotting the shifter running in the opposite direction directly into the crowded street. Shit. You can’t lose her. Not now. You roll your shoulders and growl before taking off right after her.<<else>>You can’t linger here. The longer you linger the easier it will be for her to get away before you can blink, and in a crowded street like this, you severely doubt your abilities to chase after someone who can just as easily blend into a crowd. Kind of. That backpack really is a walking target. You lurch forwards, not even bothering to hide your intent as you focus in on the Venomspitter and push forwards to her. The man to your side lets out a small confused noise, but you’re pretty sure it’s the sound of you almost running up to her that alerts her. The Venomspitter swings around to spot you, eyes going wide as she tenses in place. You stretch out a hand, ready to grab on and finish this, but you grip only air, for a moment confused as you spot her ducking, before you run straight into the vendor’s pop-up counter. Your stomach meets the surprisingly tough wood as you wheeze, folded over for a moment as you groan and clutch your stomach. You reel back, shaking off the stinging pain as you clench your teeth and watch the Venomspitter dive straight into the crowd, running deeper into the busy street. Hell. You curse under your breath but are quick to follow straight behind.<</if>> [[Next|ground chase start]]

<<if $dexadd >=40>>You have to be quick. It’s something you can rely on easily, but also something you know you’ll need if you want to stop things from escalating further here. Any wrong move and she could dive and disappear straight into the crowd, cutting you off entirely. You ignore the man beside you, narrowing your eyes and expanding your senses as you move past the stranger and quietly cut off to the side, giving the Venomspitter a wide berth as you crouch slightly and keep to the edges of her perception. If you’re quiet enough, you could probably just take her down without much of a hassle. She doesn’t look nearly big enough to give much of a struggle. You’re just about to near her, edging closer and closer, before someone suddenly jumps out in front of you. “Hey there! Looking to buy some handcrafted jewelry? Melted and forged by talon alone!” A vendor suddenly shouts at you, very much catching you off guard as you jump a bit back. Your eyes widen as you look over the vendor’s shoulder, spotting the Venomspitter now looking at you with a similarly surprised expression. You try to move around the vendor, only for the movement to completely set off your quarry as she whips around and bolts for the crowded street. Hell. You shove past the vendor, quickly diving after her.<<else>>You’ve got to approach this carefully. Any wrong move and this could spell disaster, the last thing you need right now. You ease yourself into a crouch, ignoring the man in front of you entirely as you move slowly and carefully around the stranger and start to step closer to the Venomspitter. She still has her back turned to you, but you hear the man now behind you chuckle a bit awkwardly as you entirely cut off the conversation. “I didn’t think I was that bad at conversation.” He laughs, a bit too loud for your liking. You eye him, turning to look at him over your shoulder as you’re still crouched, putting a finger to your lips as you quickly shush him. You can’t afford to lose her. Seems like your action has caught the attention of the last person you wanted it to though, your head turning back in time only to watch the Venomspitter now looking straight at you, eyes widened. You freeze, unsure of how to act now that she has clearly spotted you. Shoot. You only manage to twitch up slightly before she takes off in the opposite direction, rushing straight into the crowded street. You curse more loudly, spinning off to rush after in the manner of seconds.<</if>> [[Next|ground chase start]]

<<if $intadd >=40>>You stop yourself from moving right away, swallowing down the instinct just to go after her as you eye her warily. Venomspitter. It's the only thing you know about her. What does that give you besides the obvious? You squint as you analyze things. You obviously have to be careful about the venom, that could be trouble but unless you tangle with her directly you should be safe. It’s still something you need to consider though , especially in this crowd. The last thing you need is civilian injuries. You haven't done specific research on it, but you're aware that Venomspitters tend to have a very sensitive sense of awareness. You don't think she's aware of you now, but the things you've heard about the awareness don't give you a lot of confidence in your secretive approach. <<if $species is "venomspitter">>Your own experience only makes the situation more complicated. Every Venomspitter has different sensitivities to supposed “danger“ around them, and there's no way of knowing how aware this shifter specifically is. Your own senses don't entirely line up with the complicated variation that danger can present itself as in this era. Damn evolutionary tactics.<</if>> In your state, losing oneself is easy and keeping awareness is much more difficult. This proves itself to you once more as in standing still for so long, the stranger in front of you waves his hand in front of your face. “Hey, you good?” He asks. You tense up as in the middle of the quieter lull in conversation, the Venomspitter perks up and turns her head to look over at you, eyes widening as she spots you staring at her. Hell. You only have a moment to think before she’s off again, spinning around to race down the street and out of your grasp. You curse and jump after her.<<else>>You keep still as you watch the Venomspitter in front of you, just enough of a ways from you to be annoyingly out of reach. Enough to be a problem. You eye her and specifically her fangs warily, growing just the sliest bit nervous as you spot the sharp ends even from this distance. Is it some kind of intimidation tactic? A way to scare you off? You know Venomspitters are adept at that, but you don’t know exactly if things would be different in an environment like this. Or for a separate individual. Ugh. This hurts your head. You hiss in frustration, and in the lull of conversation, the noise comes off a lot louder than you intend. It manages to catch the attention of the Venomspitter as she spins around and locks eyes with you, freezing only for a moment before she jumps away from you and speeds off into the crowded street. Hell. You curse and rush after her, shaking your head out.<</if>> [[Next|ground chase start]]

<<if $chaadd >=40>>You consider, for a moment, rushing her or formulating some kind of plan to trap her easier, but wrinkle your nose at the thought. This may be one of a few chances to just //speak// to her. Turning this into a big deal seems… unproductive. Especially when you can just as easily smooth things over. You edge a little closer, keeping your footsteps light as you clear your throat as you get closer. The Venomspitter turns quickly, eyes widening a bit as she takes you in, but you don’t near her any further, putting a peaceful hand up. Here we go. “Hello miss?” You start, giving her a friendly and polite smile that reeks of sickly sweet honey. You roll your wrists a bit as you try to explain the situation. “I was just wondering if I could have that backpack? You see, I've been looking for it and I just know the owner would really like to get it back, so if you don't mind…” The Venomspitter stares at you for a second, blinking for a moment before she casts her gaze back at her backpack, eyeing it before you again. You shift your weight on your feet a bit but remain still. “Are you a cop?” She asks suddenly, voice drawn back and a little hesitant. //Seriously? This again?// You think with a huff. You try not to rush to answer this time though. This could give you the edge you need. Appeal to an authority. Even if it’s not fully your own. “Ah. Yes, actually. I'm working for the In-” And even before you can finish your sentence she's gone, suddenly ducking out and away from you as she bolts into the busy street. You mutter a curse at yourself and groan before you sprint off in the same direction.<<else>>You hesitate a bit before moving in on her, wondering if approaching with clear hostility will really do you any good. You’d certainly appreciate a break, that’s for sure. You eye the Venomspitter for a moment longer, before you quietly approach, racking your brain for the best way to phrase your words and desire. Maybe just being honest is best here? Or some kind of appeal to authority? You open your mouth before your brain can quite catch up. “Hello miss? I'd like to confiscate that backpack please-” She's gone before you can finish your sentence. Oh shit. Oh shit. Of course not of course not. Why would you even think of approaching it like that. Before you know it, the Venomspitter has snapped away from you, clearly startled as she races for the busy street opposite of you. Hell. You race after her with a curse.<</if>> [[Next|ground chase start]]

This chase feels familiar. The way the wind whips at your cheeks, biting cold, and the adrenaline pumping through your system keeping your senses sharp and your focus narrowed in on the chase. Haven’t you done this before? With the Firespitter from yesterday. It annoys you just how easily you have found yourself falling back into this situation, but at least this ones a little different. For one, you’re not chasing a shifted individual, the Venomspitter having shifted her tail back cleverly to avoid you catching her sooner. The other point is a bit more frustrating. As you race past people, shifted and not, you find it far more difficult to push through the much thicker crowds as you consistently lose track of the Venomspitter ahead of you. She dips and slides between elbows and draped wings, you similarly having to duck under huge shifted dragons and weaving through smaller pockets of people exchanging goods and laughing amongst themselves. The Venomspitter deftly dodges one of these such groups, sliding beneath them altogether as you curse and duck to the side before pursuing her once more. She’s fast. More than that though, she’s jumpy, hard to track. If this was a sprint, <<if $dexadd >=40>>you probably could catch up to her,<<else>>you still doubt that you could catch up to her,<</if>> but this environment makes racing through the streets particularly difficult. You jump quickly over someone’s tail, nearly tripping as you pick back up the pace. Especially difficult with so many hazards. [[You race on.|ground chase 2]]

As the two of you run, you keep your eye on the bright backpack the Venomspitter carries behind her. It offers a great anchor to spot her, even when she evades you yet again. You sure hope this thing is worth it. You spot the Venomspitter casting a sudden glance over her shoulder over at you, eyes widening again as she spots you still chasing after her. Then, still caught in a moment of surprise, she trips over her own legs, not enough to send her sprawling, but plenty enough for you to press at the disadvantage. You take the chance to speed up, panting hard now as your chest heaves with the pressure of effort. But it’s nearly enough. The Venomspitter makes a small squeaking sound as you reach out a hand, yanking the backpack up as you reach out for it. You’re just within inches of it, nearly upon her now, before she whips her head back to her front, letting out another yelp as she something startles her enough to change her course, just as someone steps behind her and in front of you. You curse, eyes widening as you spot what had thrown her off so hard. In front of you, quickly approaching as you race forwards towards it, is a large Chinese dragon puppet, a wide expression looking straight at your incoming form. You curse, last minute pulling to the side as the Venomspitter had done, but instead being forced to the opposite side of the large puppet. You quickly snatch your eyes to the other side of the puppet, spotting people staring with similar confused expressions both under the puppet and to the sides, watching on as the two of you separate to opposites of the large frame. It’s golden, red and white, draping fabrics covered in shimmery material making it hard to spot the Venomspitter right away, before you catch sight of her between the poles and people, still running hard. She spots you right back, clearly a bit winded, but as the two of you run alongside one another, separated by the puppet, you spot something strange. You lose sight of her for a moment as another drape of fabric whips past. Her expression has changed slightly. Another pole passes and it’s changed again. By the third obscuring of her features, you see things more clearly. She’s smiling. And it’s not cocky or cruel, not like you expect in this situation. Her eyes are bright, filled with an unexpected joy that you can’t quite understand as she keeps running, a genuine look of happiness and excitement now plain on her features. You keep up with her, blinking at her in stunned silence as you both run alongside one another. You think someone’s cheering. [[I smile back.|ground chase smile][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[I stare at her in confusion.|ground chase no smile][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

You feel your confusion and exertion breaking to give way to a smile, first small and perplexed, before it shifts to something more stunned and happy. You’re still panting, still running, but it doesn’t feel like it anymore. It feels lighter than that. Spotting your change in expression, the Venomspitter only gets more ecstatic, jumping a bit in place. You two exchange an almost electric moment of solidarity of this sudden spark of joy <<if $species is "lightningspitter">>, something you know you didn’t cause yourself,<</if>> as the ridiculousness of the situation truly begins to set in, along with the pure energy all this running around gives you. Enough to do something about. You watch as the Venomspitter suddenly tosses back her head, laughing and letting out a sharp whoop that jostles the people holding the Chinese dragon just enough to raise it slightly. It’s an opportunity you don’t dare to miss as you dodge under the unfinished fabric and tassels, shooting to the side to try and intercept the Venomspitter. She eyes you though and doesn’t give you a chance, doing the same in the opposite direction. You follow, and it quickly becomes a race to the end as the two of you dive and weave between the puppet’s underbelly. You get brief flashes of being under it as you run, blinking up as the light from the sun is diffused through a soft, golden-orange hue, painting your face in softer light. Kinder light. The moment is as odd as it is needed. You think you laugh. It’s hard to tell. The Venomspitter pulls a quick one again as you both reach the edge of the puppet, speeding up quickly as soon as the dragon begins to narrow out. You follow, but with her back in front, things quickly return to the intention of the chase as you speed up to meet her. [[Next|ground chase end]]

You catch her smile, that very odd look that would be much easier to classify if it wasn’t so //genuine//. She likes this? You hear your heart pounding in your ears, blood pumping and shoes pounding against the concrete as you race forwards. It takes all of you to keep focusing on running, and here this stranger is, acting like this is the most fun she’s had in years. She must be deranged. Or something. Your expression clearly doesn’t seem to dim her attitude, though, as she only laughs and shakes herself out before speeding up opposite of you, getting some distance ahead even as you both approach the same direction. Her not deviating from her path gives you an opportunity though, as you spot a small gap between the poles and people hoisting the puppet just barely off of the ground. Acting quicker than you can think, you duck under the fabric, trying to intercept the Venomspitter as she moves. She acts just as quickly though, deftly moving just as you do straight back under the puppet before you can snag her. You give chase right back, and it’s not long before the two of you are swapping places back and forth beneath the long drapes of unfinished fabrics and tassels. The shifter you’re chasing looks even more ecstatic as the two of you roll and jump from and towards one another, letting out a sharp, bubbling laugh between the panting of air. You watch as she dives from you once again, sliding between two people as they jump from her, letting out another whooping sound as she does. It’s becoming incredibly clear that she enjoys this. What's stopping you from experiencing this same excitement? The Venomspitter pulls a quick one again as you both reach the edge of the puppet, speeding up quickly as soon as the dragon begins to narrow out. You follow, but with her back in front, things quickly return to the intensity of the chase as you speed up to meet her. [[Next|ground chase end]]

As the two of you reach the end of the puppet, you lift your eyes and blink out a bit of the sun as you check your surroundings once again. Things are still crowded, but much less so as you leave the festivity preparation behind you. What you do spot though, still a tiny bit of a ways ahead of you, is a large shifted Firespitter rolling back a moving dolly overflowing with heavy-looking boxes. The sight is a bit intimidating, but only made worse by just how tall the stack is, and even worse so how populated the spots to either side of the shifter are, far too crowded to get through from this position. You glance back to the Venomspitter, who doesn’t seem intent on slowing down, just as clearly spotting the obstacle in front of you both. You keep your pursuit up as well, eyeing the dolly and the boxes again. You hardly think you could get this shifter to move in time. They’re focused intently on balancing the boxes backwards, and though there are small gaps between where they step and the boxes themselves, it seems like a fool's errand to try and make it though. Especially rocketing towards it as quickly as you both are. But the Venomspitter doesn’t seem phased. She’s either insane, unobservant, or a mastermind. Maybe all three. But regardless of what you think, she only speeds up more, pulling her head down a bit as her curls bounce wildly as she barrels straight forwards. It doesn’t seem likely that she’s going to make it. You have a moment to think before you both reach the end here. Is this really worth it to follow-through? Regardless of your own skills, you worry less and less every minute down here that you're being watched. You could just... let her go. [[Let her go.|ground let go][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[Go after her.|ground pursue][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $skyerelationshippos = 60>><<set $skyerelationshipneg = 100>><<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>No. This doesn’t feel right. Especially not as this counts as Institute work. They can shove it. You’re not risking any more skin than you need to. Slowing down is an entirely different matter, however, as you trip over your legs a bit in the race to stop much quicker than the velocity you were moving at catches up with you. But you can stop in time. Or, you would have been able to. The Venomspitter, so close to committing to the obstacle in front of her, seems to hesitate just for a moment. It’s long enough for her to completely snap out of whatever reverie she had found herself in though, as she suddenly rears back and lets out a yelp as on instinct, knowing she won’t be able to make it now especially that she’s backed out of her commitment, she shifts right in front go you. You don’t have enough time to even spot her whole transformation, eyes widening as you spot a flash of green and flaring wings and sails that back straight up into you and crash into you, even as you try to avoid her body. You both yell this time as you crash into her back, unintentionally ramming into her as you both buck forwards straight into the boxes ahead of you, crashing into them with a loud thumping sound. You close your eyes on instinct, curling your arms around your head to protect it, but barely have a moment to move before you are rolling, skidding against what feels like the ground as you hear the tell-tale sound of boxes crashing and clattering all around you. The moment only settles after the boxes finally tumble to a stop, your ears ringing and back stinging with the tumble as you roll to an uncomfortable stop. You think you’re upside down? It’s impossible to tell with your eyes still closed. [[Next|skye ground crash]]

<<set $skyerelationshippos = 60>><<set $skyerelationshipneg = 100>>You’ve already committed this far. Part of you believes she won’t even make it to the other shifter in time before you can make it to her, especially if you commit just as hard to keep running ahead. You can’t have all this running be for nothing, not as your lungs burn for oxygen. So you continue running forwards, only faltering for a moment as you spot the sudden change in the shifter’s demeanor. The Venomspitter, so close to committing to the obstacle in front of her, seems to hesitate just for a moment. It’s long enough for her to completely snap out of whatever reverie she had found herself in though, as she suddenly rears back and lets out a yelp as on instinct, knowing she won’t be able to make it now especially that she’s backed out of her commitment, she shifts right in front go you. You don’t have enough time to even spot her whole transformation, eyes widening as you spot a flash of green and flaring wings and sails that back straight up into you and crash into you, even as you try to avoid her body. You both yell this time as you crash into her back, unintentionally ramming into her as you both buck forwards straight into the boxes ahead of you, crashing into them with a loud thumping sound. You close your eyes on instinct, curling your arms around your head to protect it, but barely have a moment to move before you are rolling, skidding against what feels like the ground as you hear the tell-tale sound of boxes crashing and clattering all around you. The moment only settles after the boxes finally tumble to a stop, your ears ringing and back stinging with the tumble as you roll to an uncomfortable stop. You think you’re upside down? It’s impossible to tell with your eyes still closed. [[Next|skye ground crash]]

As you try to move, you find yourself in an equally uncomfortable position. Something rough and slightly flimsy rubs against your back, keeping you mostly still in place. It takes you a moment to figure it out, but it comes to you quickly after. Dragon wings. <<if $dragonfear is true>>You feel your throat tighten for a moment. Did you transform without realizing? How could you?<<else>>You’re confused for a second, wondering if you managed to transform without realizing.<</if>> The moment eases, however, as you realize these wings are not your own. You blink open your eyes. Partially curled around you, wings covering your head and sides and hands— no, //talons// gently holding your face, is the Venomspitter, dark green eyes blinking at you widely. You realize with a start that the two of you are partially crumpled on a pile of the fallen boxes, some to your sides, and plenty scattered around you. You don’t think you would’ve been crushed beneath the boxes or anything, but as this stranger tucks her wings back a bit, you consider the idea that it might’ve been worse if she hadn’t wrapped around you like that. Fully shifted. She’s a little small for a dragon, even though she has very classic traits that denote her as a Venomspitter right away. Warm, soft green, yellow, and brown hues of her scales shine under the peeking light of the sun, her position slightly above you blocking the light from your own eyes. You don’t move for a second. “Wow you're gorgeous!” Huh? [[“Um... thanks.“|kind skye greet][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Why say that?”|genuine skye greet][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Could you have watched where you were going?”|mean skye greet][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[I freeze up. How am I supposed to react to this? (♡)|shy flirt skye greet][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Could say the same for you.” (♡)|confident flirt skye greet][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $skyeromance =+1>>You freeze up, unsure of how she expects you to respond to something so sudden. So intimate. So... the heat rises to your face, unbidden. You can't help it. You try your hardest not to, instantly jerking your face back a bit as if the distance would cure you, but it's clear as the shifter across from you recognizes your expression and similarly goes red, as if not realizing her words. ”Oh! S-sorry I uh...“ She falters a bit in her words, for a moment sharing the shock and nerves, before she smiles again, face still red as her eyes glimmer with a joy that you can't help but blush even further at. ”I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” You watch as she thrusts a hand forwards in friendly greeting, another surprise as you take a breath to settle your rapid heartbeat. Right. Quite honestly— not the time. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.]]<</if>>

“Um... thanks.“ You respond a bit awkwardly, giving her a small but polite smile. Very odd timing but you can't say you're too upset about the warm welcome. The shifter seems to come to her senses a moment after, eyebrows rising as she rights herself and thrusts a hand forwards. ”Oh- sorry! I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.|skye name shake]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.|skye name no shake]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.|skye shake nick]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.|skye no shake nick]]<</if>>

“Why say that?” You cough out, fixing her with a weird look. It's not that the compliment isn't appreciated it's just... a little sudden. You suck in another breath, wincing as you move your shoulder around a little. Sudden and a little unaware of the situation. ”Oh- sorry! I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” She corrects, thrusting a hand forwards. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.|skye name shake]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.|skye name no shake]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.|skye shake nick]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.|skye no shake nick]]<</if>>

“Could you have watched where you were going?” You hiss at her, narrowing your eyes as you keep your distance. You don't move too close just yet though, still wary of the sharp fangs that protrude from her upper lips. It's got to be some kind of intimidation tactic? ”Oh- sorry! I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” She replies, practically ignoring your aggression in exchange for a hand thrusted forwards. Oh. Okay weird. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.|skye name shake]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.|skye name no shake]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.|skye shake nick]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.|skye no shake nick]]<</if>>

<<set $skyeromance =+1>>You freeze up, unsure of how she expects you to respond to something so sudden. So intimate. So... the heat rises to your face, unbidden. You can't help it. You try your hardest not to, instantly jerking your face back a bit as if the distance would cure you, but it's clear as the shifter across from you recognizes your expression and similarly goes red, as if not realizing her words. ”Oh! S-sorry I uh...“ She falters a bit in her words, for a moment sharing the shock and nerves, before she smiles again, face still red as her eyes glimmer with a joy that you can't help but blush even further at. ”I'm Skye! Nice to meetcha!” You watch as she thrusts a hand forwards in friendly greeting, another surprise as you take a breath to settle your rapid heartbeat. Right. Quite honestly— not the time. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.|skye name shake]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.|skye name no shake]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.|skye shake nick]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.|skye no shake nick]]<</if>>

<<set $skyeromance =+1>>You pause and fix her with a look for a second. Gorgeous? You grin, glancing over her for a moment. Alright. You won't complain about this sudden turn. “Could say the same for you.” You hum back, leaning forwards a bit as you stifle a bit of a laugh. You see her reaction instantly, a change from surprise to embarrassment to glee all in a matter of seconds, her expression lit up as her face flushes at your words. You feel a little warmer too as she bashfully ducks her head for a moment before she shakes her head and delivers you another bright smile. “Ah- thanks so much! I uh-” She pauses, scratching at a spot on her face before suddenly sitting up higher as if remembering something. “Oh shoot! Sorry- I'm Skye! Nice Nice to meetcha!” She thrusts a hand forwards and you smile a little, returning to the task at hand. Right. Work to do... or whatever. You... [[Shake her hand and give her your name.|skye name shake]] [[Don't shake her hand but give her your name.|skye name no shake]] <<if $nickname is true>>[[Shake her hand and give her your nickname.|skye shake nick]]<</if>> <<if $nickname is true>>[[Don't shake her hand but give her your nickname.|skye no shake nick]]<</if>>

Well, nothing wrong with a friendly introduction. You'd give anything for a more pleasant interaction nowadays. She doesn't seem quite dangerous enough for you to worry about either. Or maybe that's just a ploy. “I'm $name, nice to meet you too.“ You reply with a small quirked smile in return. You take her hand, the position a bit awkward as she leans back and lets go of your face, laughing awkwardly as she does. You shake it as she offers you a bright smile in return <<if $prostheticarm is false>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>, jumping only slightly at the chill of your hand<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>, jumping only slightly at the warmth of your hand<</if>><</if>><<if $prostheticarm is true>>, her eyes jumping down to study your prosthetic arm<<if $proesthetic is "both arms">>s<</if>> for a moment before her smile softens into something more genuine<</if>>. The Venomspitter, Skye, huffs a bit as she detaches from you entirely, uncurling and flared sails settling back down to the sides of her face as she sits up and looks around. With a shake of her head, she’s shifted back to human, bright scales sinking back below skin as she reverts to human. Still fanged. There’s a lot of people staring at you both now, nervous and confused gazes both checking in on you and the shifter who was holding the boxes in the first place, who looks more angry than worried. They turn to you both, but just huff out a puff of smoke and shake their head before beginning to gather the boxes. Whoops. “Here- sorry, let me.” Skye offers a bit bashfully, holding out her hand to help you up out of the crumpled boxes. You think you spy some bright flyers in some of these packages. You… [[Let Skye help you up.]] [[Help yourself up.]]

You're not exactly jazzed enough to shake this stranger's hand after everything that just happened, but the polite nature of the exchange is harder to turn down, especially after so many hours of repeated conflict. “I'm $name.” You reply simply with a nod, glancing down at her hand only for a moment before returning your gaze back to her face. She falters, seemingly realizing what an awkward position this is, and lets go of your face, laughing awkwardly as she detaches from you entirely. She uncurls from you, flared sails settling back down to the sides of her face as she sits up and looks around. With a shake of her head, she’s shifted back to human, bright scales sinking back below skin as she reverts to human. Still fanged. There’s a lot of people staring at you both now, nervous and confused gazes both checking in on you and the shifter who was holding the boxes in the first place, who looks more angry than worried. They turn to you both, but just huff out a puff of smoke and shake their head before beginning to gather the boxes. Whoops. “Here- sorry, let me.” Skye offers a bit bashfully, holding out her hand to help you up out of the crumpled boxes. You think you spy some bright flyers in some of these packages. You… [[Let Skye help you up.]] [[Help yourself up.]]

<<set $snick to true>>Well, nothing wrong with a friendly introduction. You'd give anything for a more pleasant interaction nowadays. She doesn't seem quite dangerous enough for you to worry about either. Or maybe that's just a ploy. “I'm $nickname, nice to meet you too.“ You reply with a small, quirked smile in return. You take her hand, the position a bit awkward as she leans back and lets go of your face, laughing awkwardly as she does. You shake it as she offers you a bright smile in return <<if $prostheticarm is false>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>, jumping only slightly at the chill of your hand<</if>><<if $species is "firespitter">>, jumping only slightly at the warmth of your hand<</if>><</if>><<if $prostheticarm is true>>, her eyes jumping down to study your prosthetic arm<<if $proesthetic is "both arms">>s<</if>> for a moment before her smile softens into something more genuine<</if>>. The Venomspitter, Skye, huffs a bit as she detaches from you entirely, uncurling and flared sails settling back down to the sides of her face as she sits up and looks around. With a shake of her head, she’s shifted back to human, bright scales sinking back below skin as she reverts to human. Still fanged. There’s a lot of people staring at you both now, nervous and confused gazes both checking in on you and the shifter who was holding the boxes in the first place, who looks more angry than worried. They turn to you both, but just huff out a puff of smoke and shake their head before beginning to gather the boxes. Whoops. “Here- sorry, let me.” Skye offers a bit bashfully, holding out her hand to help you up out of the crumpled boxes. You think you spy some bright flyers in some of these packages. You… [[Let Skye help you up.]] [[Help yourself up.]]

<<set $snick to true>>You're not exactly jazzed enough to shake this stranger's hand after everything that just happened, but the polite nature of the exchange is harder to turn down, especially after so many hours of repeated conflict. “I'm $name.” You reply simply with a nod, glancing down at her hand only for a moment before returning your gaze back to her face. She falters, seemingly realizing what an awkward position this is, and lets go of your face, laughing awkwardly as she detaches from you entirely. She uncurls from you, flared sails settling back down to the sides of her face as she sits up and looks around. With a shake of her head, she’s shifted back to human, bright scales sinking back below skin as she reverts to human. Still fanged. There’s a lot of people staring at you both now, nervous and confused gazes both checking in on you and the shifter who was holding the boxes in the first place, who looks more angry than worried. They turn to you both, but just huff out a puff of smoke and shake their head before beginning to gather the boxes. Whoops. “Here- sorry, let me.” Skye offers a bit bashfully, holding out her hand to help you up out of the crumpled boxes. You think you spy some bright flyers in some of these packages. You… [[Let Skye help you up.]] [[Help yourself up.]]

You nod gratefully at her and take her hand again, grasping it firmly as you let her pull you up, the movement swift as she pulls you to a standing position beside her. <<if $kind < 50>>“That backpack doesn't belong to you.” You start quickly, narrowing your eyes at her. Back to business. Better to get this out of the way.<<else>> ”That backpack belongs to someone else, by the way.“ You start, trying to ease the conversation in slowly. There's no need to scare her off again.<</if>> “Oh I know!” She replies, chipper as always as she stands up to attention. You pause. Huh? “You... know?” “Yeah- I was just looking for her!” She answers as she reaches up to adjust a light green baseball cap on top of her tightly curled hair. You pause and look at her. “Wh-wait really?” She nods. “Yep! I thought getting a closer view of the streets would help, but I'm not super familiar with the city's layout.” She explains while fiddling with one of the backpack's straps. “The owner left the backpack with me and when she got back just started yelling at me...” She lets out a puff of air as she rolls her shoulders, recalling the story enough to explain. “I don't know why she got so aggressive. I wasn't gonna do anything. But she spooked me so...” She trails off, distracting herself with the backpack again as she runs her hands over it and avoids your eye. Weird. Just out of the blue got aggressive? “Did you... do anything to provoke her?” You ask. Skye hesitates on this point. “I mean... not really. I was just down the block looking at some graffiti, that's all!” Oh. [[Next|skye ground join]]

You shake your head at her and stand on your own as she does too and steps back from you, giving you space. <<if $kind < 50>>“That backpack doesn't belong to you.” You start quickly, narrowing your eyes at her. Back to business. Better to get this out of the way.<<else>> ”That backpack belongs to someone else, by the way.“ You start, trying to ease the conversation in slowly. There's no need to scare her off again.<</if>> “Oh I know!” She replies, chipper as always as she stands up to attention. You pause. Huh? “You... know?” “Yeah- I was just looking for her!” She answers as she reaches up to adjust a light green baseball cap on top of her tightly curled hair. You pause and look at her. “Wh-wait really?” She nods. “Yep! I thought getting a closer view of the streets would help, but I'm not super familiar with the city's layout.” She explains while fiddling with one of the backpack's straps. “The owner left the backpack with me and when she got back just started yelling at me...” She lets out a puff of air as she rolls her shoulders, recalling the story enough to explain. “I don't know why she got so aggressive. I wasn't gonna do anything. But she spooked me so...” She trails off, distracting herself with the backpack again as she runs her hands over it and avoids your eye. Weird. Just out of the blue got aggressive? “Did you... do anything to provoke her?” You ask. Skye hesitates on this point. “I mean... not really. I was just down the block looking at some graffiti, that's all!” Oh. [[Next|skye ground join]]

“So it's just a big misunderstanding.” You sigh, running a hand down your face as you realize the ridiculousness of the situation. “She gave you something to watch and you just... wandered off with it?” Skye at least has the decency to look a bit ashamed at that. She slowly nods, catching your eye for a moment before looking away again, looking very much akin to a scolded child. You sigh again. “Whatever. I don't think that's a crime or anything.” You've seen enough of the justice system in this city to not really be //that// motivated to bring someone in. Besides, she really didn't do anything wrong. “I probably should get that back to its owner though. My partner knows how to do that.” You shrug your shoulders. More hoops to jump through at this hour definitely didn't sound like the most fun, but it beat getting well... beat. ”Oh perfect! I'll come with you!” Skye smiles, snapped back now to her original state. It's almost dizzying how quick her positive attitude comes back. You hesitate for a second. Do you really want another person to look after right now? [[Yes. No harm in company for a short journey.|yes skye ground join]] [[No. I need all the peace and quiet I can get.|no skye ground join]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>“Ah- sure. Why not? Just... stay close alright?” You reply. You don't see the harm in a little company. She seems very sweet, if a little... easily distracted. It probably won't be a long trip anyways. “Really?” Skye exclaims loudly, jumping up as if the crash never bothered her at all. “Oh thank you thank you thank you! You won't regret it!” Your eyes widen a bit at her excitement. What did you do? She's acting like you just spared her life, not simply allowed her to join up with you. But you hardly feel like complaining. You look around at the growing crowd, stepping back a bit as you stretch the ache from your shoulders. You certainly don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary. Instead, you shoot Atlas a quick text about your status. He sends you another back quickly and gives you directions to a place to meet up at. Back to the lab. Not a surprise. Turning back to Skye, you give her a quick nod as she grins at you and hoists the backpack higher on her shoulder, ready to go. “Alright, let's go.” [[Next|ground opinion]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos -=10)>>“Wh- no way.” You frown. You came here for one thing and one thing only, not a babysitting job. Because with the puppy-dog eyes Skye's giving you, it certainly feels like babysitting. Or at least just a handful. More than you need right now, regardless. Skye visibly droops, eyes widening as she frowns and sighs loudly. Is she... pouting? By everything almighty. “Pleassse? I promise I won't get in your way, I just want to get this back to the owner!” She pleads, edging closer to you as she does. You move back. Is she really...? [[Fine. If only to stop her begging.|give in skye]] [[No way. This only proves my point.|stubborn skye]]

You end up leading the way back through mostly checking your phone and avoiding the complicated roads. You avoided the crowd in the previous street and you’re grateful for it, the adrenaline leaving your body as you depart and leaving you a bit spent. It is a much calmer journey though, the way back a lot less packed and only just barely quieter. Skye is following you closely, but you notice a habit of hers is to ask anything on her mind. And that means anything. This latest question, you can assume, comes from your gaze upwards that may or may not have lingered just a little too long. “Do you like flying?” She asks suddenly, speeding up just a bit to step by your side, arms gripping the straps of the backpack protectively. <<if $height is "huge">>You notice she has to keep her pace a bit fast to keep up, but she doesn’t complain. <</if>><<if $height is "tall">>You notice she has to keep her pace a bit fast to keep up, but she doesn’t complain. <</if>>You turn to look at her, a bit taken aback by the sudden question. “What?” You ask back, not sure if you caught that right. She blinks right back, looking a bit confused as well but pointing to her fangs quickly. “You’re a dragon shifter, right?” She confirms, nodding in your direction. <<if $dragonfear is true>>You stiffen. Of course she knows. Why wouldn’t she. Your skin manages to feel too tight and too prickly at the same time, but you give her a very stilted nod, eyes flicking away from her as you do. Why does it always feel like this? Like admitting to a crime you did not commit?<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>> You feel a strange smile working its way onto your face, but you commit to it anyways, feeling a small rush at being seen, even if it’s short-lived. Because she’s right. And being known by someone other than the Institute feels… well shit it feels good. You nod at her.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>> You pause a bit. You don’t know what gave it away. Maybe your <<if $blindeye is true>>eye<<else>>eyes<</if>>. Or perhaps your teeth. You expect this callout to feel bad, maybe too invasive, but it surprisingly doesn’t. It just feels… nice? You don’t know why that’s the case, so you push it back down and give her a simple nod.<</if>> “Well, do you like flying? //Can// you fly?” She asks, leaning in a bit, almost conspiratorially. You stare at her for another moment but nod again. [[“It's complicated.”|former flying convo]] [[“It's just flying.”|simple flying convo]] [[“I love it.”|love flying convo]]

You visibly roll your eyes and let out a frustrated huff of air. You don't have the will or the time to deal with this, and besides, if her tight clutching of the backpack is any indication, she wouldn't be as willing to part with it if you used force. <<if $stgadd >=40>>You kind of doubt she could overpower you though.<</if>> “Just- tsk. Fine. Whatever.” You hiss, throwing her a quick look. “Just don't make this a big deal. I just need to get this done, alright?” Skye nods towards you appreciatively, pout wiped from her face as a beaming smile replaces it. She giddily jumps in place again, blurting out a quick laugh before she hugs the backpack tighter to her. “Of course! You won't regret this! Let's go!” She nods, suddenly turning and running down the opposite direction down the rest of the street, excitedly picking up speed once more. “I didn't even-” You try shouting after her but cut yourself off with a loud groan. “She doesn't even know where she's going she-” You lean your head back to suffocate another long-suffering groan that dies in your chest before you laugh dryly to yourself. //You// don't even know where you're going. You pull out your phone, shooting Atlas a quick text about your status. He sends you another back quickly and gives you directions to a place to meet up at. Back to the lab. Not a surprise. Whatever. Time to go. [[Next|ground opinion]]

Her determination only serves to frustrate you further as you hiss to yourself, narrowing your eyes at her. Is she really continuing to press this? And with such a childish angle? “Not a chance.” You affirm, standing with a slight hiss as you rotate your shoulder a bit to throw off the lingering pains. “I'm not here to drag another person around. Just hand over the backpack and-” Skye suddenly snatches back the backpack, fixing you with a determined stare as she stands, arms gripped tight around the object as she frowns at you with a furrowed brow. You snatch your hand back, staring right back at her with a bit of surprise. Where'd this sudden turn come from? “No. I want to return this to the owner, that's it.” She states, letting out a huff through her nose as she shakes her head. “I should be allowed that, if anything.” You stare at her for another moment, incredulous. Where was all this seriousness just a moment ago? You laugh once, a surprised and annoyed thing that dies on your tongue as it turns sour. You can't believe this. Actually, you very much can believe this. “You know what- fine.” You scoff, glaring back at her as you put your hands on your hips. “I'll drag you back to my partner and //you// can explain to him what you're doing.” At least if you hoist this issue back on Atlas, you know he'd take it. The one good thing about loyal attack dogs is they don't know when to quit. You'll just make this journey quick. “Yes! Oh my gosh thank you so much you won't regret it I swear I swear-” Skye laughs, demeanor switching in seconds back to her previous persona as she jumps in place excitedly. She fixes you with a genuine smile that is a little too pointy for your liking, and gives you a quick nod. “So where to?” Ah. You forgot. You pull out your phone, shooting Atlas a quick text about your status. He sends you another back quickly and gives you directions to a place to meet up at. Back to the lab. Not a surprise. You turn back to Skye. “Follow me.” [[Next|ground opinion]]

“It’s complicated.” You confess with a small huff. You don't make eye contact as you keep moving, averting your gaze from raising any further. “It's taken me some getting used to.” You add after a pause. It's not exactly the best scenario to spill your guts to this stranger, so you more or less end the conversation there, but the thought sticks with you. Flying, thankfully, comes a bit more naturally to you and other shifters. That never meant that it was easy. Nor was it free of baggage. Flying means awareness, after all. People's awareness of you, high above them. Awareness of yourself, shifted into another form. <<if $dragonpride is true>>You like what you are. You have to in order to survive. But that doesn't mean you're ignorant of your safety.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>Shifting will never be not //complicated// for you. It's just a matter of making it to the ground, right?<</if>><<if $dragonfear is true>>It takes a lot, even now with your feet planted firmly on the ground, not to fully block out //what// you are when you fly.<</if>> You take a deep breath and focus back in on correcting your posture. Skye, surprisingly, doesn't reply right away, considering your words. It's a brief moment of quiet that you're grateful for as you both inch closer to your destination. “I hope you can enjoy it more sometime. There's enough space.” She offers. You reply with a quick and short laugh. You wish it was just about space. The nuance is lost between the air between you. [[Next|group re-meet ground]]

“It's just flying.” You reply. It comes out a bit snappier than you intended but the question... doesn't sit completely right with you. Are you supposed to feel some kind of way about it? Is that a leading question? Is she asking for something more? <<if $kind > 50>>“Sorry. I think it's just... it's just me.” You shrug, trying to walk back some of the unintentional aggression. Skye notices and gives you a smile, freckles on her scales stretching to accommodate the grin. You give her a quieter one back. It's just you. <<if hasVisited("Ask him about his dragon features.")>>You can't help but remember Reese's similar words back at the bar.<</if>> The knowledge doesn't settle quietly in your gut. But it's not a horrible feeling either.<<else>>“It's just me- I mean.” You correct, trying to relax the stiffness which accumulated quickly at your shoulders. Skye seems to consider your words, but she doesn't respond. That's probably for the best. You could already feel your hackles raising a bit at the defensive position you had to take so quickly. It's just you, after all. <<if hasVisited("Ask him about his dragon features.")>>You can't help but remember Reese's similar words back at the bar.<</if>> You sigh and it feels like it lifts something a bit.<</if>> [[Next|group re-meet ground]]

<<if $expressive > 50>>“I love it.” You reply with a smile.<<else>>”I love it.“ You confess with a sigh.<</if>> You wouldn't consider the sky your 'second home' or anything, such a feat seems impossible, but it's a place that has never turned you away. It neither pulls you nor pushes you. It just is, and that alone is more freedom than you've felt in a long time. So why wouldn't you enjoy it? There's something almost magical about flying. The care you need to take of how you position yourself comes almost entirely naturally. It's instinct. It's wind. It's breath. And you can't get enough of it. <<if $dragonfear is true>>You really wish it didn't have to come with such a high cost, though.<</if>> Your face twitches into a slight frown at the thought. You wish you could be there now. Skye, though, laughs a little besides you but it's not too loud this time. ”Yeah. I agree.” She replies with a little twinkle in her eyes. You glance back at her. Did you give something away in your expression? [[Next|group re-meet ground]]

You arrive back in the same parking lot shortly after that, following the directions the rest of the way until you eye the familiar shape of the lab building. Skye follows after you, smiling as she watches you put your phone away as she stretches out before hopping after you, looking much like she hadn't been involved in a chase in the first place. Outside the lab stands Atlas, Reese, and Puck, the last of which is still clad in their white lab coat which is slung across their shoulders as they share a murmured conversation with Reese. Atlas glances up at your approach and squints at the new arrival. “It was a misunderstanding.” You're quick to cut in as you walk up. Reese and Puck look over now too. “The person just left her with the backpack and she got spooked, she's been looking for-” “Oh my gosh hi! I'm Skye it's so nice to meet you!” Your company suddenly interrupts, quickly rushing up to greet the rest of the group. She's quick to shake hands with Atlas, pulling his hand forwards and only jumping a little at the chill before she goes down the line, rambling excited words all the while. Atlas stares down at his hand and back up at you. He glares. [[I offer him an apologetic smile.]] [[I offer him a shit-eating grin.]]

“What’s your rush?” You snipe back, raising an eyebrow. Reese turns to look at you, giving you an unimpressed glare, but you and your smirk interrupts him before he can fire back. “Got a date or something?” Reese scoffs, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, the perfect combination of motions to let you know that he’s over this. It only makes your smile wider. “Hey, just give it a shot, alright? Can’t hurt to get some energy back.” Puck is quick to follow up, leaning forwards just a bit to extend their arms, as if looking to garner mass appeal. You don’t know if everyone is as convinced. “If you don’t like it- no harm done. You don’t have to come back.” Reese mumbles something incoherent under his breath but shifts his focus to the ceiling, arms drawn taut over his chest. Skye, on the other hand, catches your eye, leaned over onto her elbow with her head resting in her hand, glancing between you and the others. “Wow. You guys are dysfunctional.” [[You burst out laughing.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[That’s not funny.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“Haven’t you been here before?” You ask, genuinely curious as you tilt your head at him a bit. He at least doesn’t seem //more// pissed at your response. “No I-“ He throws a hand up to gesture to everything around you all. “I don’t know every food heap in the city. If I did, I’d probably be getting paid, and not stuck here with you shmucks.” <<if $expressive > 50>>You snort, trying to hold back the laugh at the odd insult.<<else>>You raise a brow a bit at his odd insult.<</if>> “Hey, just give it a shot, alright? Can’t hurt to get some energy back.” Puck is quick to follow up, leaning forwards just a bit to extend their arms, as if looking to garner mass appeal. You don’t know if everyone is as convinced. “If you don’t like it- no harm done. You don’t have to come back.” Reese mumbles something incoherent under his breath but shifts his focus to the ceiling, arms drawn taut over his chest. Skye, on the other hand, catches your eye, leaned over onto her elbow with her head resting in her hand, glancing between you and the others. “Wow. You guys are dysfunctional.” [[You burst out laughing.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[That’s not funny.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“I agree. Let’s eat and get out.” You nod, casting a look at the counter again. You can’t see any activity that would make you think things are moving any faster, but certainly not any slower either. Reese lifts his shoulders with a huff. “See? //Someone// here sees sense.” “Hey, just give it a shot, alright? Can’t hurt to get some energy back.” Puck is quick to follow up, leaning forwards just a bit to extend their arms, as if looking to garner mass appeal. You don’t know if everyone is as convinced. “If you don’t like it- no harm done. You don’t have to come back.” Reese mumbles something incoherent under his breath but shifts his focus to the ceiling, arms drawn taut over his chest. Skye, on the other hand, catches your eye, leaned over onto her elbow with her head resting in her hand, glancing between you and the others. “Wow. You guys are dysfunctional.” [[You burst out laughing.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[That’s not funny.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

You hold your tongue nervously. This feels like another argument waiting to happen. You fold your hands in your lap and glance away, checking over your shoulder at the counter then quickly back down to the ground. You wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re staring, after all. God. That’d be embarrassing. “Hey, just give it a shot, alright? Can’t hurt to get some energy back.” Puck is quick to follow up, leaning forwards just a bit to extend their arms, as if looking to garner mass appeal. You don’t know if everyone is as convinced. “If you don’t like it- no harm done. You don’t have to come back.” Reese mumbles something incoherent under his breath but shifts his focus to the ceiling, arms drawn taut over his chest. Skye, on the other hand, catches your eye, leaned over onto her elbow with her head resting in her hand, glancing between you and the others. “Wow. You guys are dysfunctional.” [[You burst out laughing.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[That’s not funny.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

You can’t help it. The comment takes you entirely off guard, but its accuracy jumps straight down your throat and makes you cough and sputter as you bark out a laugh, falling into a small coughing fit that you quickly clear with a shake of your head and the wave of your hand. <<if $expressive < 50>>You catch the others staring at you a bit widely, especially Atlas and Reese, who seem a bit startled to see such an open reaction from you.<<else>>You catch sight of Atlas rolling his eyes at you unsurprisingly, but Reese is hiding a smile behind his hand, clearly trying to dilute his reaction to you losing your shit.<</if>> As you finally settle down, you fix Skye with an amused look, tilting your head a bit. “What gave it away?” You chuckle, winding down as you relax a bit more into your seat. Skye fixes you with a look that is first amused back, then slowly turns a bit perplexed as she looks between the others. “I mean… Come on now.” She returns, spreading out a hand to gesture at the five of you gathered. You don’t have time to assure her that you were being sarcastic as she suddenly gets a bit serious, as if she’s the only one who sees it. “There have been more fights since I’ve met you guys than…” The Venomspitter pauses in the middle of her speech, looking down at the table as her brow furrows and she traces the line of an old scar in the wood. “Well… I can’t think of a good comparison but it’s a lot.” She finishes, shrugging a bit as she looks back up. [[“Well it wasn’t exactly… voluntary.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“You’re phrasing it like we ever had the choice.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

You frown, instantly meeting her comment with a brick wall of an expression. That wasn’t funny. Accurate, maybe, but nothing about the situation you’re stuck in strikes you as particularly amusing right now. <<if $expressive > 50>>You catch the others staring at you, especially Atlas and Reese. You raise an eyebrow at them but don’t say anything. What? It really wasn’t funny.<<else>>You catch sight of Atlas sharing the same scowl as you, a rare thing you can agree on, but Reese is idly smiling, a bit of a nasty thing, as if to agree more than he wants to speak.<</if>> “What gave it away?” You respond dryly to her with a raised eyebrow. Skye blinks at you, clearly a bit puzzled now. “I mean… Come on now.” She returns, spreading out a hand to gesture at the five of you gathered. You don’t have time to assure her that you were being sarcastic as she suddenly gets a bit serious, as if she’s the only one who sees it. “There have been more fights since I’ve met you guys than…” The Venomspitter pauses in the middle of her speech, looking down at the table as her brow furrows and she traces the line of an old scar in the wood. “Well… I can’t think of a good comparison but it’s a lot.” She finishes, shrugging a bit as she looks back up. [[“Well it wasn’t exactly… voluntary.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“You’re phrasing it like we ever had the choice.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“Well it wasn’t exactly… voluntary.” You try putting it, vaguely dancing around the point as you look away for a moment. You know she meant it as a mostly lighthearted comment, but being reminded this suddenly of your position again feels violent. Jarring would probably be a less intense way of phrasing it. It doesn’t get the entire point across though. “What?” Skye asks, sitting up a bit as she readjusts her grip on the strawberry backpack, which is sat beside her on the seat.<<if hasVisited("sandwich skye")>> You watch her reach out a little to you by her side, but quietly draws the hand back.<</if>> “What do you mean?” There’s a beat of silence. Do you really want to go over this again? “We’re after a murderer.” It’s Reese who speaks up in your stead, glancing to you for a moment, but it’s not a look that conveys frustration or impatience. He’ll take this one. Skye sits up further and Puck stiffens and glances around, clearly bristling at their public conversation. “Reese-!” They hiss under their breath. The Firespitter just shrugs his shoulders almost casually, staring Skye down now, who’s looking a bit pale. “What? She was gonna learn anyway. Might as well tell her now.” He hums. From here, you can spot the look in his eyes growing a bit hard, a bit more studious of Skye’s reaction as he narrows in. “Especially if she’s convinced that this is some kind of fun //adventure// we’re going on.” [[Next|sandwich dissasociation]]

“You’re phrasing it like we ever had the choice.” You’re quick to bite back, arms crossed in front of you. //Like I ever had the choice.// You swallow down the thought. Your brow is furrowed, shoulders tense. You suspect she didn’t mean for the comment to strike so true, but your company feels more like strangers every time you remember. Because they are. “What?” Skye asks, sitting up a bit as she readjusts her grip on the strawberry backpack, which is sat beside her on the seat.<<if hasVisited("sandwich skye")>> You watch her reach out a little to you by her side, but quietly draws the hand back.<</if>> “What do you mean?” There’s a beat of silence. Do you really want to go over this again? “We’re after a murderer.” It’s Reese who speaks up in your stead, glancing to you for a moment, but it’s not a look that conveys frustration or impatience. He’ll take this one. Skye sits up further and Puck stiffens and glances around, clearly bristling at their public conversation. “Reese-!” They hiss under their breath. The Firespitter just shrugs his shoulders almost casually, staring Skye down now, who’s looking a bit pale. “What? She was gonna learn anyway. Might as well tell her now.” He hums. From here, you can spot the look in his eyes growing a bit hard, a bit more studious of Skye’s reaction as he narrows in. “Especially if she’s convinced that this is some kind of fun //adventure// we’re going on.” [[Next|sandwich dissasociation]]

<<if $kind < 50>>Your line of sight returns to the table for a moment as you blink through it. This is probably for the best.<<else>>You wince a bit at how harsh Reese’s words came out. He isn’t //wrong// exactly, but it still feels rough coming out of his mouth. <</if>> Skye looks a little startled, shrinking back into her seat a little, as if she had been chastised. There’s silence at the table, Puck repeatedly opening and closing their mouth as if trying to soothe the burn somehow, but never manage to get the words to come. You adjust in your seat, a bit uncomfortable. “Why are you here, then?” You blink. Skye’s spoken up again, but this time isn’t talking to Reese. Or Puck. Or even Atlas. She’s looking at you. Fuck. Why //are// you here? You don’t think you have a good answer for Skye. Or one that wouldn’t make you sound crazy. How are you supposed to describe such a deep seated feeling in your gut like the one you had? Instinct? Like how birds know where to return after winter? Or coincidence? Like a crazy accident that mixed you right into the pull of the ground beneath your feet? You’re suddenly sympathizing with Skye’s inability to come up with a good comparison. [[Next|sandwich food arrive]]

“Food for table three?” Augh. Right. Head back in the game. You look up to the server, doing a very good job in hiding the way your breath just stopped for a minute. Puck smiles kindly and thanks them, taking the tray offered and quietly spreading out the meal in front of you all. The discussion promptly dropped, you hear a stomach rumbling as you all reach for your food. You’re not fully convinced it wasn’t your own. At least the eyes are off of you. You don’t know if you could’ve worked your way out of that one as easily as you wanted. “Fuuuck this looks good…” You hear someone say. You bite into your $order quickly, savoring the taste for a second, before you realize who had spoken. Skye is scarfing down her food as quickly as you, looking just if not more pleased to be eating something good. Did she-? “Was that a curse?” Puck chuckles, looking totally thrown off as they more measuredly reach for their meal. Skye glances up, realizing what she said, and shrugs noncommittally. “I mean… yeah? What? I’m not twelve.” She replies, a little bit of bite to the end of her sentence, though it clearly isn’t intended as mean. Reese laughs at this, barking laughter that he throws his head back at. “//There’s// that bite! I knew those teeth weren’t just for show.” He huffs, gesturing at her a bit with his sandwich. You see a bit of the turkey sliding out. Skye seems a bit more startled, once again her feelings plain to see as she registers the change in ease of conversation. A smile slowly breaks out onto her face. “Yeah! Murders beware!” She snaps back with equal, if not raised, enthusiasm. Reese cackles even harder at this, and you catch Puck tensing a bit at the mention again, but slowly relaxes into their seat as they lean their head into a palm and laugh a bit exasperatedly. Atlas picks at his salad, unamused, but glances at Puck’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. You hum a bit. It’s a lot easier to swallow now. [[Next|sandwich shop banter]]

The conversation, though settling down as you all eat, doesn’t entirely peter off. You’re a bit too focused on your food to join in, but you find yourself entertained plenty as Reese and Skye fall into a strange sort of camaraderie. Skye will blurt something she doesn’t even think twice before saying, Reese will egg her on to push things even further, and Puck is left to shush them, giggling in between attempts to settle them down. It’s an oddly nice moment of peace. Moments like these feel so rare nowadays, lost between the bustle and stress of the Institute’s commands, because that’s what they really are, commands— not requests. You swear you can even see Atlas’s brow un-furrowing. You take a deep breath and it’s everything you could’ve asked for. “I mean, I hardly think they could defend themselves- look at them!” Reese laughs, jerking a thumb back to Puck. You tune back into the conversations, eyebrows raising a bit as you seem to have picked a very strange time to focus back up. Mid bite, you glance back at the scientist, who’s eyeing Reese with an amused expression. “I don’t know, they could probably swing me over their shoulder pretty easily! Look at those arms!” Skye replies with the same enthusiasm. The conversation is immature but… she’s not wrong. For a scientist, Puck is built a lot heftier than the others, large arms and stomach offering a very different perspective on someone who doesn’t seem keen to flaunt any particular physical skills. “I’m right here, you know.” They huff playfully, hands folded over one another gently. Skye seems to ignore them, turning to you instead, curls bounding with how fast she whips her head. <<if $snick is true>>“$nickname!<<else>>“$name!<</if>> What do you think? If a murderer was running us down, could Puck take them?” She asks, looking very serious about this very silly question. You look to Puck almost as if for help, but they just fix you with a stare, slightly tilting their head as if they’re actually expecting an answer. Hm. [[“Yeah. Quiet people always hit hardest.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[“No. You need to practice for that sort of thing.”][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive +10, 0, 100)]] [[This is such a stupid conversation.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $teamplayer to Math.clamp($teamplayer -=10)>>You’re not adding to this hypothetical. If you had it your way, there’d be no murderer in the first place— or at least not one you had to worry about. Your expression flickers into a frown as you refuse to respond, glancing away. “Ohhh, too high and mighty to reply, huh?” Reese jabs, a nasty looking grin on his face that is mostly teeth. You raise a brow at him but barely huff back. They’re acting like children. Especially him. “I think the murderer would get $himher. Being a wet blanket, and all.” Puck jumps in suddenly, amusedly looking at you with a small tilt of their head. You blink at them. Seriously? Even the scientist? Reese and Skye break out into laughter, the Firespitter even slapping the table as he does. You let out a long-suffering sigh with a roll of your eyes. These people. Despite the distraction, the air at the table feels much lighter now. Part of you believes that it’s possible, in that moment. Possible that not every conversation needs to end on this sour note— this horrible awkwardness that has pervaded your talks since you got into the city. You suppose that’s why what happens next makes you so upset. [[Next|puck freeze sandwich]]

“No. You need to practice for that sort of thing.” You’re quick to add, lifting a hand as you look to Puck, eyeing them carefully as you speak. You don’t mind playing along a bit. You eye Puck for a moment longer, trying to make your mind up about something. “Careful now, that’s a lot of staring.” Puck chuckles, a glimmer in their eyes as they catch your eye. They adjust their glasses casually, but their words read as a bit more playful than you were expecting. “You got something you want to confess?” You laugh right back. “That’s right. Practice gets you everywhere.” Atlas suddenly pipes up, still picking at his mostly-eaten salad as he joins in the conversation. You feel the atmosphere still for a moment, thrown off by his inclusion, and the Frostspitter raises his head, glancing between everyone quizzically. “What? Why are you all looking at me like that?” You can tell his hackles are beginning to raise, but before he can cut himself off from the conversation, <<if $genuine < 50>>you dive in to save the moment.<<else>>Puck dives in to save the moment.<</if>> <<if $genuine < 50>>“Selective hearing, much?” You chuckle. <<if $disability is "hoh">>You tap at your hearing aids, turning your head at him. “And I thought //I// was bad.”<<else>>“Nice of you to join the conversation.”<</if>> You watch as Skye and Reese explode into laughter, Atlas staring you down with a twitch in his eye that you grin a bit at. Thankfully, he doesn’t take it too quickly to heart though, and just rolls his eyes, scoffing and muttering something about maturity under his breath as he looks away.<<else>>“Ah, don’t worry Atlas. Just a bit surprised you’re joining the conversation, that’s all.” They giggle a bit, a glimmer of thinly veiled amusement in their expression as they hold back another laugh, reaching over to pat his hand. “Your hearing is very selective.” Skye bursts out laughing at the brief jab, cackling as she leans backwards into her seat. Reese laughs a bit too, giving Atlas a nasty grin who manages to look more confused than angry, his nose wrinkling as he glances between everyone. “Why is everyone laughing? Did I say something?” He grumbles in confusion, getting no response from the peanut gallery.<</if>> Despite the distraction, the air at the table feels much lighter now. Part of you believes that it’s possible, in that moment. Possible that not every conversation needs to end on this sour note— this horrible awkwardness that has pervaded your talks since you got into the city. You suppose that’s why what happens next makes you so upset. [[Next|puck freeze sandwich]]

“Yeah. Quiet people always hit hardest.” You confirm with a small nod and tiny smile. Might as well play along. You eye Puck for a moment longer, trying to make your mind up about something. “Careful now, that’s a lot of staring.” Puck chuckles, a glimmer in their eyes as they catch your eye. They adjust their glasses casually, but their words read as a bit more playful than you were expecting. “You got something you want to confess?” You laugh right back. “Eh- I disagree. Quietest people don’t hit the hardest, that’s bullshit.” Reese says with a quick sniff. You eye him next. <<if $genuine < 50>>“Is that right? And what about you? You hit hardest? Or just yell the loudest?” You snap right back, snickering to yourself as Skye and Puck erupt into laughter. Reese looks between them, eyes wide, and narrows his eyes at you, face turning red with embarrassment as he snaps his gaze away and grumbles incoherent curses under his breath. Got him.<<else>>“Yeah?” You ask. “Yeah.” He affirms. “Yeah. Everyone knows those who yell loud enough until their face turns red hit the hardest.” Puck adds, sliding their eyes to Reese with a smirk. Oh damn. Skye bursts out laughing and you join faintly, hand up to your mouth as you watch Reese’s eyes widen as he looks to Puck and frowns before his face does, to no one’s surprise, turn red. He looks away and grumbles something incoherent.<</if>> Despite the distraction, the air at the table feels much lighter now. Part of you believes that it’s possible, in that moment. Possible that not every conversation needs to end on this sour note— this horrible awkwardness that has pervaded your talks since you got into the city. You suppose that’s why what happens next makes you so upset. [[Next|puck freeze sandwich]]

Skye makes another snappy joke, prodding a little bit at Atlas who sizes her up with a look. You can’t remember the exact words because you’re finishing up your food, but when you raise your head, wiping at your mouth, you spot Puck laughing. Like… really laughing. You didn’t really note it before now. How they always smiled thinly, how they always covered their mouth when they laughed. It was a trait you saw on some people, mostly those who were self conscious about their smiles, a sad fact that you had assigned to them maybe unconsciously. But Puck either didn’t have time to cover this one up or just simply didn’t think about it, because this laugh is large and wide, a hand held up not to their mouth but their head as they wheeze. They have sharp canines. Puck is a dragon-shifter. You don’t even have time to register how that makes you feel as before you can, Puck lowers their hand and meets your eyes, a shared moment of recognition as the two of you stare at one another. You expect solidarity. Understanding. Amusement. Anything but the terror in their eyes. Puck’s body language entirely changes at that moment. One moment they’re laughing uproariously, and the next, their shoulders are taut, expression both hesitant and scared— they’re fucking //scared.// They close their mouth tightly, going rigid as they hold your gaze for a moment longer, eyes almost pleading before they glance away, cut off from you before you could even react. What the hell. [[What was that?|puck freeze sandwich2]]

Atlas notices it first. You don’t expect him to, but he’s quick to idle in his own conversation, blinking over to Puck with an expression akin to worry. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen that expression on him. Is it better that he can feel it at all, or worse that he never once showed that to you? The Frostspitter leans up, glancing from Puck, who is unresponsive and now staring at a spot slightly distant from their folded hands on their lap, to you, who gives him a bewildered stare right back. You don’t even know what to say. You didn’t do something wrong— right? You didn’t even say anything. At this point, Skye and Reese have picked up on the sudden silence, an uncomfortable pause making the air thick and words stick to the back of your throat. “We’ve wasted enough time here. Let’s go.” Atlas muses, his words a little faint before they harden with that edge that you are all too familiar with by now. It’s final. Reese squints, clearly as confused as you, and gestures to his food, still unfinished. “But I’m still eating-” “Then fucking pack it, Zhu.” Atlas snaps back, cutting a glare right towards the shorter man. Reese freezes, and you know the feeling of being under that awful glare. He’s quick on the draw at least, and stands up abruptly in his seat, glaring back at Atlas and digging a few new scratches in the wood. You swear you can hear something burning. “Fine. Move.” He growls, his words equally quick to the point. His face is red again, but embarrassment seems like a weird emotion to be feeling right now. You don’t think about it further as he rather awkwardly but briskly shoves his way out of the seats, moving in front of you before stomping his way up to the front to gather some boxes. [[Next|puck freeze sandwich3]]

Skye, for her part, tries looking to Puck, but when finding them unresponsive, looks to you instead. Hell. You don’t know what’s going on, either. How are you supposed to relay anything? You open your mouth as if to give her an answer, but just falter, shaking your head in confused exasperation. “Alright. Cortez. You, me, and Zhu are going to return that backpack. We’ll start at the police station and you can tell them everything.” Atlas starts, snapping back to this professional angle that you knew was ever present, but it’s jarring just how //held back// it was for a while there. You’re reminded of how he was in the interrogation room, when it was just you two and the cold table. Something inside you stirs uncomfortably. “Le Fay.” He continues, causing your attention to snap to him. His eyes are just as cold, just as distant as that first day. “You and Bishop are going to head back to the laboratory and collect all the data we need on that chip. Wait for us there.” What? Just like that? [[“Huh? But we just got here!”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[“What the hell, Drake? What’s up with you?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

“Huh? But we just got here!” You start, trying to keep your voice steady as your throat feels tighter and tighter with each second. You don’t know if reasoning is even possible with this man, but you feel like you have to try. “Listen, if I did something wrong, I’m sorry you just have to tell me-“ You’re cut off again before you can finish. But not by words this time. Atlas has set something down on the table in front of him. Something familiar. “Put this on too.” He says. You want there to be sympathy in that tone, more than ever. “It was stupid of me to let you out without it.” [[In the dark steel of the collar, you swear you can see your reflection.]]

“What the hell, Drake? What’s up with you?” You start, feeling your face heat up and your face prickle with frustration. Why is he doing this? The actions seem entirely out of left field, especially after things had been going so well. “I didn’t do anything if you would just listen-“ You’re cut off again before you can finish. But not by words this time. Atlas has set something down on the table in front of him. Something familiar. “Put this on too.” He says. You want there to be sympathy in that tone, more than ever. “It was stupid of me to let you out without it.” [[In the dark steel of the collar, you swear you can see your reflection.]]

This again. This horrible device again. It stares up at you almost mockingly, a warped version of yourself staring right back as if staring would make it disappear. But it is so very real. Too real, by Skye’s uncomfortable shifting by your side would indicate. <<if $dragonfear is true>>You don’t know how you should feel about this. It was horrible with it around your throat, you remember that. Tight, uncomfortable, and both too warm and too cold at the same time. But, as much as you don’t want to think about it, wasn’t a part of you grateful to have that escape? The assurance that you wouldn’t shift, or couldn’t, no matter how hard you tried? As uncomfortable of a cage it might have been, it was still a cage. You feel like you need one of those sometimes.<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>>Your very soul curls away from it, like a vampire from sun. You want to curse Atlas for even bringing it up, much less force it upon you again. You’re a //shifter// for fucks sake. It’s against your very nature not to shift. Hell— it’s just against everything //you// are to remain stuck in one form like that. You know this part of you is more primal, more unwilling to budge especially now that it knows what this thing can do. Or what it attempts. You want to tear this thing apart with your claws, fly it up a thousand feet and drop it where it shatters below you. You want it gone. You… you’re so tired of fighting.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You hate this. Your own personal feelings are mixed, an uncomfortable diatribe of thoughts and impressions and logic but your gut reacts as one. You want to throw up. The very steel is wrong, morphed into a thin shape meant to perfectly seal around your throat. You distantly know what it’s like when your more draconic instincts flare up. It is not a separate thing from your own thoughts, but it is different. Different enough for you to know it //despises// this. Hisses at the very idea of it. Even if you try to compromise instantly with it. Compromise. Always.<</if>> “Why?” You manage out. Just a simple word, but your voice is cracked enough for your feelings to come across. Atlas doesn’t answer for a bit, but you’re not looking to his face for a reaction. This isn’t about him. “It’s temporary. Just for today. But I’ve been too lenient today as is.” He replies finally after a beat that makes you want to dig another nail into the table. You finally glance up at him and it’s as you expected, his expression cold and unwavering. You’re not getting through to him. “Fuck you, Atlas.” You say, standing abruptly as you take the collar and step into the nearest bathroom opposite of the door. [[Next|sandwich bathroom breakdown]]

Even the best restaurants have the shittiest bathrooms. You reconcile this fact as you enter the shop’s bathroom, a cramped single room with stains on the walls you don’t even want to know about. You’re quick to pull down the toilet seat, seating yourself on top of the cold porcelain as you stare down at the collar in your hands, resting between your palms like a heavy rock. You can’t believe this. It’s bullshit— it’s nonsense— it’s— You sigh, deflating here where no one can see you. What are you supposed to do about this? Atlas is going to get his way one way or another, even with the new people added to the group, you don’t think he’ll be convinced out of this one. The space around you feels smaller than it actually is. Regardless of its capability to keep you to one form, the display itself is just… wrong. You can see that clearly, right? As much as anyone else. Fuck, you’re at least //somewhat// human, despite what you may have been told in the past. Anyone with sentience shouldn’t have this… this //thing// wrapped around their throat. Like an animal. That’s what you are to them. [[Maybe you can break it slightly?]] [[Resign yourself to your fate.]]

Maybe you can break it slightly? Just enough to where Atlas won’t notice and you can get away without the shock. It’s not much, but it’d be reassuring. That you have some kind of control on this situation. Because that’s what it’s about anyways, control. <<if $breathweapon is true>>You hesitate a minute. Maybe you can use your breath to solve this. Something small. Unnoticeable. You squint and readjust yourself, reaching out a finger to the small corner of the middle of the device. <<if $species is "firespitter">>After a moment of focus, you catch the very tip of your finger alight, just enough for you to focus right on the spot you need. Your brow furrows as you lean in close, applying pressure with your thumb as you slowly try to melt the metal. It’s steel, right? It should melt at some point, even if you have to really turn up the heat. You frown as your flame flickers. This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working? A few moments pass, enough for you to start to get frustrated. It’s not going to work. This metal is too fortified, you don’t even know if you’re focusing on the right point. You’d have to either sit here for long enough for things to get suspicious, or set the whole thing ablaze. And you don’t think the fire alarm blinking above you would like that.<</if>><<if $species is "lightningspitter">>After a moment of focus, your finger, close to the metal now, lights up, a short burst of electricity buzzing between your fingertip and the edge of the device. You keep your excitement down and focus, trying to keep the energy going as it blinks in and out. You keep applying the pressure, trying to short circuit the thing entirely, or at least partially. You’ll take anything you can get. After a few moments, your brow furrows as you notice no change. Nothing. You didn’t expect, much less want, a lights show as it erupted or anything, but the uncertainty makes you worried. Is this working? It doesn’t feel like it’s working? You think for a moment about that weird disc you picked up yesterday. That thing was meant to basically redirect electrical current, right? Why wouldn’t the Institute have the same tech in this?<</if>><<if $species is "venomspitter">>You hold the device still, leaning over it slowly as you move your knees out of the way. Doing this may be a bit hazardous, but you know at least you won’t be harmed in the process. That’s not how your venom works. Opening your mouth just slightly, you position yourself right over the collar as you focus and drip some of your venom right over the thing, the cold feeling of the liquid dripping out from your fangs. It drips gently onto the top of the device as you hold it steady, narrowing your eyes as you close your mouth and lick your lips, watching the slightly green venom sit on top of the metal and… do nothing. What? You know the venom is supposed to be slightly acidic, maybe not enough to always melt through everything, but it should have at least made a dent or some kind of impression across the glossy surface. But it just sits there, a wobbly shape that eventually loses its viscosity and drips off of the device, slipping onto the floor with a small hiss as it seeps and disappears into the floor. //There’s// the dent. But not on the collar.<</if>><<if $species is "frostspitter">>After a moment of focus, you feel the cold spreading from you like inching frost, the metal blossoming little by little with small icicles upon its surface. It reminds you a little of snowflakes forming. Beautiful, but too faint. You furrow your brows as you inch the ice a little further, a little colder. Maybe turning it up can short circuit something. You’ll take anything at this rate. As you wait though, the collar doesn’t seem to react in the slightest. You don’t even know if anything you did was effective. If you had more time, less need for caution, you swear you could break this thing like you wished. But how it is right now, your attempt seems useless.<</if>><</if>><<if $breathweapon is false>>You focus as you begin to apply pressure to the device, checking it over for any structural weaknesses you can exploit. You’ll take anything. The damned thing is like alien technology to you though, and your brow furrows as you just end up squeezing it and glaring down at the thing like it could ever really be mocking you. Damn.<</if>> “Shit…” You whisper under your breath, gritting your teeth together as you snap a hand away and glare down at the collar. You have to resist the urge to throw it across the room- unsure if even that would do any damage to the thing. You’ll have to try later. At the very least, Atlas said this was temporary. You’re not so sure you believe him. Slowly, hesitantly, you clasp the collar around your neck, swallowing hard as you fight back the emotion that rises. It’s cold, heavy, and certain. Much like a guillotine— as soon as you feel the chill, it’s already too late. The lock clicks into place. It feels like putting a gun to your own head. You stand, stepping to the door before your hand hesitates before turning the handle. You don’t know what possesses you to turn your head, glancing over your shoulder at the grimy mirror behind you. But you do anyways, meeting your eyes alone for a minute. <<if $blindeye is true>>It’s always a little weird, staring at your one good eye. You don’t tend to notice that much anyone just how much vision you lost, the ritual of things falling to the daily thrum. But looking into mirrors like this always throws you off when you notice how you just can’t quite make out the edges of your vision.<<else>>You swear the color in them is a bit drained, a bit more exhausted. It’s not like you’re looking back at a stranger or anything, but the sight makes you pause. You know these eyes. That’s for certain. And they’re tired.<</if>><<if $haircolor is "dyed">>Your dyed $haircolor hair looks a bit dull, the color past when you’d need to re-dye it. You sigh. Another task to add to the list. Everything’s become a chore these days.<</if>> You blink for a moment, just barely managing to not stare at the collar firmly secured below your chin. Just barely. It’s time to go. [[You push back open the door.|sandwich bathroom leave]]

You hesitate, staring down at the alien shape in your hands. Is it really worth it to put this much effort into fighting this? Right now? The first time you went through this was rough, but this feels like you’re just treading old ground. Old, bloodied dirt. You wince a bit just looking at the thing. Even now, as you slowly feel yourself resigning to the idea, you feel your stomach churning and the skin at the back of your neck prickling. It feels wrong. It is wrong, right? Idly, you reach a hand to the back of your neck to scratch at it, pausing as you don’t feel the itch. You blink, scratching again, but only notice the change when you tilt your head back a bit. Scales, just small ones, formed at the back of your neck. The feeling of them is noticeable, like a hard layer of dried mud on your sensitive skin. You swallow. You didn’t mean to do that. <<if $dragonfear is true>>The idea that your body reacted before you could is one that does not settle well with you as you sit in the silence of the bathroom. It’s quite honestly, one of the most disconcerting issues you’ve seen pop up from time to time. Startled into revealing your claws. Frustrated to the point of tail-lashing. You’ve seen it all. Every small mark of your kind that reacts before you can. Part of you wants to believe it’s not your fault— it’s just something instinctual, are you supposed to know how to control that? You feel your face heat up uncomfortably, the feeling of emotion welling up before you can stop it. //You should know better,// you tell yourself. //It’s your fault you’re so unstable.// Unstable. You blink away the emotion and wipe at your face before it can overtake you. The collar remains cold and unfeeling to your feelings, but its presence is a reminder. You have an escape. And you’ll take any opportunity if you must.<</if>><<if $dragonpride is true>>You curse, low and bitter, as you stare at the collar in your hands. You know what this is. Even your body hates this, the very idea of //submitting// to this thing in your hands. For a second, you feel the need to shift something— anything to get this itch off of you. Not the one by your neck though. A full body itch that feels absolutely suffocating in this small space. You //need// to shift. You take a deep breath, letting out a shaky noise as you slowly shift your forearms. It’s just enough, a small change that eases the itch and lets you roll your shoulders with ease. You catch sight of the <<if $proesthetic is "both arms">>prosthetics, changed to fit your form just right. You just have to ignore the discomfort that comes with the change sometimes. The prosthetics turn just like your form usually would, fibers slotting and slithering before your eyes to form the claws that you are familiar with.<</if>><<if $proesthetic is "right arm">>prosthetic side by side with your left arm, which shivers from the change as scales overcome it. Your prosthetic changes in turn. You watch as fibers slotting and slithering before your eyes to form the claws that you are familiar with, your other arm revealing the brilliant $scalecolor scales that flash in your vision.<</if>><<if $proesthetic is "left arm">>side by side with your right arm, which shivers from the change as scales overcome it. Your prosthetic changes in turn. You watch as fibers slotting and slithering before your eyes to form the claws that you are familiar with, your other arm revealing the brilliant $scalecolor scales that flash in your vision.<</if>><<if $proestheticarm is false>>$scalecolor scales overcoming your arms, the brilliant color flashing in your vision as you turn them over to stare at them a moment longer.<</if>> It feels a bit silly to spend this long looking at them, like you’re saying goodbye to an old friend. It’s only temporary, that’s what Atlas said. Yeah, right. You shift your arms back.<</if>><<if $dragonindiffrence is true>>You know it’s just instinct. You’ve been spooked into shifting plenty enough times as is, so this should be no different. But the natural, defensive change that occurs when you aren’t even thinking feels different than the bone-deep discomfort that arises in you when you think about putting this collar back on again. Maybe it shouldn’t be this hard. There’s an uncertainty that arises in you, even when your gut seems so certain. Do other shifters feel this way? Feel this horrible sinking feeling when they know they have to cover up their other selves? Other self. Not whole. It’s still something that you can control. You must, if you want to make it through the rest of this day. You have a bad feeling that even if you put on this collar, act like nothings wrong, and go about your day, that the discomfort will never cease. Maybe it was always there, omnipresent even without the existence of the collar. Like an invisible leash, it just keeps on tugging. Is that normal? One of your hands raises as you hold your head for a moment, blinking away the feeling as emotion wells up in your throat. Shit. You’ve never been less lonely in the city, but in this bathroom, isolated from the rest of the world— from the rest of your kin, it feels like the loneliest place in the world.<</if>> Slowly, hesitantly, you clasp the collar around your neck, swallowing hard as you fight back the emotion that rises. It’s cold, heavy, and certain. Much like a guillotine— as soon as you feel the chill, it’s already too late. The lock clicks into place. It feels like putting a gun to your own head. You stand, stepping to the door before your hand hesitates before turning the handle. You don’t know what possesses you to turn your head, glancing over your shoulder at the grimy mirror behind you. But you do anyways, meeting your eyes alone for a minute. <<if $blindeye is true>>It’s always a little weird, staring at your one good eye. You don’t tend to notice that much anyone just how much vision you lost, the ritual of things falling to the daily thrum. But looking into mirrors like this always throws you off when you notice how you just can’t quite make out the edges of your vision.<<else>>You swear the color in them is a bit drained, a bit more exhausted. It’s not like you’re looking back at a stranger or anything, but the sight makes you pause. You know these eyes. That’s for certain. And they’re tired.<</if>> <<if $haircolor is "dyed">>Your dyed $haircolor hair looks a bit dull, the color past when you’d need to re-dye it. You sigh. Another task to add to the list. Everything’s become a chore these days.<</if>> You blink for a moment, just barely managing to not stare at the collar firmly secured below your chin. Just barely. It’s time to go. [[You push back open the door.|sandwich bathroom leave]]

Outside, you see what you can only assume is the fallout of your walkout. Everyone is standing away from the table now, having wrapped up their meal in one way or another. Skye stands away from Puck and Atlas, uncomfortably idling as she’s picking at the fuzz on the backpack. Puck and Atlas are posed right next to the door, nearly huddled together as they speak to each other quietly. Atlas has his back to you, but is clearly fussing over something, hands waving about frustratedly. Puck, meanwhile, still looks a bit reserved, brow furrowed as they try to settle the man down. They spot you over the Frostspitter’s shoulder, but only look a bit sad again. Your eyes flick away from them and spot Reese over their shoulder, outside smoking. [[You stay in place, trying to listen to what Atlas and Puck are saying.]] [[You move past Atlas and Puck, stepping outside.]]

You don’t move from your spot, eyes narrowing a bit as you hesitate, straining to listen to the two speak. <<if $disability is "hoh">>In your strain, you quietly move a hand up to your ear, turning up your hearing aid as you eye them. <</if>>From here, you can just barely make out what Atlas is saying, who’s speaking in a harsh whisper, as if keeping his volume low is too difficult with how frustrated he is. “It’s not my choice- I mean- you know the system just as much as I do, they’re not going to just let this go!” He’s saying, running a hand through his stark white hair. “Someone’s going to blow a gasket about this, I just know it.” Puck raises their hands, seemingly trying to calm Atlas down as sorry seeps into their expression, focus turned away from you now. You wonder for a moment if this is a private conversation. If it was, why would Puck just let you listen in like this? You don’t have time to think about it for too long as they speak up again, this time speaking to Atlas with a much more hushed tone. You actually have to take a step forward to properly hear <<if $disability is "hoh">> but thankfully, you can read their lips a little better like this<</if>>. “It’s //fine// Atlas. Really. Just explain the situation, I’m sure they’ll see sense.” The scientist reassures calmly. Explain what situation? The collar? Who would Atlas be reporting to? Is there something more to this situation? You frown slightly, pausing as you clench and unclench your palm. Something is off here, but you can’t quite put your finger on it just yet. You don’t expect either of them to explain, especially as one of Puck’s small glances towards you finally tips Atlas off, who glances over his shoulder at you before straightening his spine. All of his composure returns at once, and you see his gaze flickering down towards your neck before raising again and giving you a brief nod. Then, he steps outside the door, leaving Puck to stare at you a moment longer before they sigh and follow after him. Skye says nothing, stepping up as you move towards the door. She holds out her hand towards you, and you blink for a moment as you realize she wants to hold yours. [[Take her hand.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]] [[Step outside.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

You don’t want to stay in this place any longer. You’re not very hungry anymore, but it still feels like there’s a pit in your stomach as you step forwards, setting your expression as you stomp past the two of them. You catch Skye reaching out, then just as quickly drawing back as you begin to leave. The moment you get to the side of Atlas and Puck in front of the door, you watch as Atlas stiffly looks away, setting his features as well as he returns to his composed self. Typical. Puck, on the other hand, catches and maintains eye contact as you stalk past. They look… regretful? Worried? Upset? Definitely not a good expression, but not one you think is particularly frustrated with //you//. That’s a small comfort as you ignore them the rest of the way and step out into the chill of the outside air. You’re quick to shake yourself out, exhaling a sigh that quickly turns into an aggravated groan. At least the fresh air wakes you up. Prickles at you as you stand there, leaning your head back and clenching your hands into fists at your side. This is infatuating. It’s exhausting. You just want to go home. “I know a good spot below one of the bridges that could hide a body, if you want.” You open your eyes, looking to your side as you spot Reese exhaling some smoke that doesn’t belong to him, not looking at you back as he leans back against the sandwich shop. Perfect picture of delinquency. Perfect picture of someone who would suggest such a thing. But you know he’s not serious— maybe. At the very least, it’s clearly a stupid idea. [[“No. Thanks for the offer though.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Haven’t you had enough killing for a while?”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos -=10)>>You hesitate a little, staring down at her extended hand. You can appreciate the gesture, but the last thing you want right now is to be touched. To be pitied. To be reminded of why you need that help. //Need.// You swallow down the lump in your throat and shake your head faintly before turning away, not saying a word as you exit before her, eyes kept low to the ground so you can’t watch her expression break. Once outside, Atlas is quick to get to business once more, nodding at Puck as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and glances at the entire group. Reese puts out his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and suffocating the ashes with his boot. “Alright. Keep in contact, we’ll be back soon.” The Frostspitter muses, nodding over to Skye and Reese. You find it a little particular how he’s split up this group, a purposeful action in your eyes. When he speaks next though, he isn’t looking at you. Another purposeful action. “Don’t do anything stupid.” And with that, the group splits once more, Skye stepping out as she turns to look at you, smiling sadly at you. You recognize suddenly that this might be the last time you’re going to see her, and it tugs at you a bit. <<if hasVisited("No. I need all the peace and quiet I can get.")>> It’s not like you really wanted her to involve herself in the first place, but her absence is something you have sitting with you a little longer than you really would’ve liked. Hm. Suppose that’s the way of things. Besides, you doubt this will be the absolute last you see of her. Even if you try. She gives you a small little wave.<<else>>You were the one who let her join, after all. Her absence is something that you’re already noticing, even as she steps back to join her group. This one hurts. She gives you a small little wave.<</if>> “I’ll seeya’ around, alright?” The Venomspitter grins, freckles on her cheeks straining as she backs up. Puck gives her a brief smile and wave in return. “The company was lovely.” They reply genuinely, draping their lab coat back over their arm. Their smile is small again. You look to Skye. [[Wave goodbye.|sandwich wave]] [[Say goodbye.|sandwich bye]] [[Hug goodbye.|sandwich hug]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>You hesitate a little, staring down at her extended hand. It’s not pushed far enough in your space to be intrusive, just present enough to anchor you. Make you take a deep, steadying breath. You gently reach out your hand, gripping hers with your own. You watch her smile softly, and it’s a bright spot of sun in the otherwise bleak moment as she nods at you and leads you outside without a word. It’s… honestly a little odd how maturely she seems to be handling this. Maybe not as defensive for you as you would’ve liked, but the kind gesture feels like an oasis in the desert. And who are you not to drink. Once outside, Atlas is quick to get to business once more, nodding at Puck as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and glances at the entire group. Reese puts out his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and suffocating the ashes with his boot. “Alright. Keep in contact, we’ll be back soon.” The Frostspitter muses, nodding over to Skye and Reese. You find it a little particular how he’s split up this group, a purposeful action in your eyes. When he speaks next though, he isn’t looking at you. Another purposeful action. “Don’t do anything stupid.” And with that, the group splits once more, Skye letting go of your hand carefully, an action you didn’t even realize you were continuing, and smiles at you brilliantly. There’s a tinge of sadness in her eyes, and you recognize suddenly that this might be the last time you’re going to see her. Fuck. As her hand leaves yours, you hold onto the comfort as it is slowly pulled from you, trying with everything you have to hold back how much you don’t want to let go. But you do. And she waves. “I’ll seeya’ around, alright?” The Venomspitter grins, freckles on her cheeks straining as she backs up. Puck gives her a brief smile and wave in return. “The company was lovely.” They reply genuinely, draping their lab coat back over their arm. Their smile is small again. You look to Skye. [[Wave goodbye.|sandwich wave]] [[Say goodbye.|sandwich bye]] [[Hug goodbye.|sandwich hug]]

You give Skye a similar small smile, waving goodbye as you take up beside Puck in preparation. “See you later, Skye.” You hum. <<if $genuine < 50>>“I don’t think there’s a place in the city we could go to escape you.” Skye cackles at that, sticking her tongue out at you playfully as she closes an eye and mockingly pulls down the bottom of her other one. You laugh and wave her off, the Venomspitter giggling as she turns away.<<else>>“I’m sure we’ll talk again.” Skye’s smile turns a bit more heartfelt as she nods, holding your gaze for a moment longer before she laughs once and turns away.<</if>> Both groups separate, Atlas throwing Puck one last nod before you both turn and split entirely, moving down opposite ends of the sidewalk as you pursue your separate destinations. You run a hand down your face. It’s just you and Puck now. Ah. [[Next|puck walk lab]]

<<if $expressive < 50>>You nod at her, giving her a small head tilt as you keep the goodbye brief. Skye smiles at you regardless, laughing a bit at your reserved demeanor before she turns away.<<else>>You give her a small nod, smiling the smallest bit as you keep your goodbye brief. Skye smiles at you right back, giving you a small mock bow as she turns away.<</if>> Both groups separate, Atlas throwing Puck one last nod before you both turn and split entirely, moving down opposite ends of the sidewalk as you pursue your separate destinations. You run a hand down your face. It’s just you and Puck now. Ah. [[Next|puck walk lab]]

<<set $skyerelationship to Math.clamp($skyerelationshippos +=10)>>No. This is bothering you too much. Suddenly, you lurch forwards, capturing her in a tight bear hug that takes even Skye off balance. There’s a brief moment of silence as you close your eyes tight, lowering your head as you try to push down the embarrassment and guilt that rises when she doesn’t return it right away. But that only lasts a second before you feel her arms wrap around you back. <<if $height is "short">>It’s not too difficult for you both to hold on for a moment, your similar heights allowing for little to no adjustments on either side.<</if>><<if $height is "average">>Despite your own average height, you find yourself burying your head in her shoulder, still a little taller than her.<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>It’s a bit strained as you hug her much smaller form, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest, stretching her legs up a bit to reach you more properly.<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>It’s definitely a little awkward given the large gap between your heights, but the difference doesn’t seem to bother her as she stands up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms best she can around you.<</if>> You intended for the hug to be brief, but it lasts a lot longer. She’s warm, not overly so, but enough for you to notice as you take a deep breath. You pretend it’s not shuddering as much as you know it is. Breaking the hug feels painful, almost too much so. You want just to stay in that space forever, away from the responsibilities and duties forced upon you. But as soon as you slowly release her, she does the same, pulling back but keeping her hands on your shoulders. “I’ll see ya’ soon enough. Promise.” She whispers, like it’s a secret. And you believe her. Enough to straighten your back and nod. You clear your throat a bit, trying to shake the moment from you before it overcomes you again. Then, slowly, Skye draws back and gives you another smile before turning away. You look away when you notice the others staring a bit, ears burning slightly. Both groups separate, Atlas throwing Puck one last nod before you both turn and split entirely, moving down opposite ends of the sidewalk as you pursue your separate destinations. You run a hand down your face. It’s just you and Puck now. Ah. [[Next|puck walk lab]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reeserelationshippos +=10)>>“No. Thanks for the offer though.” You reply a bit more genuinely, turning your gaze to the ground for a moment as you itch at the spot right below the collar. Reese grunts and shrugs a bit, taking another drag before he puts his hands together and warms them with a quick flare up of flames that dissipate within a couple of seconds. It’s oddly nice to know that someone sees how ridiculous this situation is. Makes you feel a lot more sane. “Just say the word.” He rumbles, still with that same dry tone. But you both know better. Once outside, Atlas is quick to get to business once more, nodding at Puck as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and glances at the entire group. Reese puts out his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and suffocating the ashes with his boot. “Alright. Keep in contact, we’ll be back soon.” The Frostspitter muses, nodding over to Skye and Reese. You find it a little particular how he’s split up this group, a purposeful action in your eyes. When he speaks next though, he isn’t looking at you. Another purposeful action. “Don’t do anything stupid.” And with that, the group splits once more, Skye stepping out as she turns to look at you, smiling sadly at you. You recognize suddenly that this might be the last time you’re going to see her, and it tugs at you a bit. <<if hasVisited("No. I need all the peace and quiet I can get.")>> It’s not like you really wanted her to involve herself in the first place, but her absence is something you have sitting with you a little longer than you really would’ve liked. Hm. Suppose that’s the way of things. Besides, you doubt this will be the absolute last you see of her. Even if you try. She gives you a small little wave.<<else>>You were the one who let her join, after all. Her absence is something that you’re already noticing, even as she steps back to join her group. This one hurts. She gives you a small little wave.<</if>> “I’ll seeya’ around, alright?” The Venomspitter grins, freckles on her cheeks straining as she backs up. Puck gives her a brief smile and wave in return. “The company was lovely.” They reply genuinely, draping their lab coat back over their arm. Their smile is small again. You look to Skye. [[Wave goodbye.|sandwich wave]] [[Say goodbye.|sandwich bye]] [[Hug goodbye.|sandwich hug]]

<<set $reeserelationship to Math.clamp($reeserelationshippos -=10)>>“Haven’t you had enough killing for a while?” You reply dryly, turning your head away again as you stand there stiffly. You know that comment was a bit unprovoked. A bit cruel. But you really can’t bother to hold back the spite that seeps into your tone. Reese doesn’t seem fired up enough to return the bitterness though, and maybe that’s a kindness on his part. It doesn’t make you feel much better as he doesn’t respond though. Once outside, Atlas is quick to get to business once more, nodding at Puck as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and glances at the entire group. Reese puts out his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and suffocating the ashes with his boot. “Alright. Keep in contact, we’ll be back soon.” The Frostspitter muses, nodding over to Skye and Reese. You find it a little particular how he’s split up this group, a purposeful action in your eyes. When he speaks next though, he isn’t looking at you. Another purposeful action. “Don’t do anything stupid.” And with that, the group splits once more, Skye stepping out as she turns to look at you, smiling sadly at you. You recognize suddenly that this might be the last time you’re going to see her, and it tugs at you a bit. <<if hasVisited("No. I need all the peace and quiet I can get.")>> It’s not like you really wanted her to involve herself in the first place, but her absence is something you have sitting with you a little longer than you really would’ve liked. Hm. Suppose that’s the way of things. Besides, you doubt this will be the absolute last you see of her. Even if you try. She gives you a small little wave.<<else>>You were the one who let her join, after all. Her absence is something that you’re already noticing, even as she steps back to join her group. This one hurts. She gives you a small little wave.<</if>> “I’ll seeya’ around, alright?” The Venomspitter grins, freckles on her cheeks straining as she backs up. Puck gives her a brief smile and wave in return. “The company was lovely.” They reply genuinely, draping their lab coat back over their arm. Their smile is small again. You look to Skye. [[Wave goodbye.|sandwich wave]] [[Say goodbye.|sandwich bye]] [[Hug goodbye.|sandwich hug]]

To call the silence hanging in the air around the two of you awkward would be putting it lightly. Puck walks beside you as the two of you depart, faintly tracing your steps to return to the lab. Neither of you speak, either out of discomfort or stubbornness, you don’t know, but either way the air is thick with tension. It feels… odd to suddenly have this unclear barrier between you two. Regardless of your personal feelings on it, Puck was rather welcoming to a total stranger just a few hours, hell, //minutes// before. And now, you can’t help but notice how their eyes don’t meet your own, and how often they adjust their glasses or scuff the ground with their shoe unintentionally. Stilted. Forgetful. Wrong. You could try and ease things over. Or at the very least, break the silence. [[“Did I do something wrong?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[“Are we going to talk about what happened?”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[You don’t want to have to save this conversation.][$expressive to Math.clamp($expressive -10, 0, 100)]]

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask. It comes out of you kind of rushed, like you didn’t think fully before you spoke. But either way, it comes out, more hushed even as it jumps from your throat. Puck straightens almost right away, blinking in shock even as you’re trying not to stare. You watch as an expression, something akin to a silent horror, washes over them, genuine concern flashing in their expression as they turn to look at you. You manage to only back away a little. “What? No- no you didn’t do anything-“ They start, stepping into your space a little before suddenly dropping their eyes and watching your movements, backing up again as they raise a hand, looking regretful. Not hurt though. “You… you didn’t do anything wrong. //I// should be the one apologizing.” You pause at that, but Puck backs up a bit before containing, motioning for the two of you to continue walking before they continue. You do. “I’m just… I think I was overreacting a bit, back in the shop.” They begin, rolling their wrist over a few times. “I’m not too used to this company, that’s all.” The response feels a bit cheap. Not exactly as snide and secretive as something Atlas would say, but certainly not the full picture. It feels… shallow. A pool of water that Puck tossed a stone into just to make sure the mud broke the vision. Considering how genuine they were before, it’s certainly something that doesn’t sit right. [[“I can imagine, given your job and all.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I get it. The company is… peculiar, that’s for sure.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“You just let it happen, though.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“The company doesn’t matter. You just dropped me.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” You ask. The tone comes out a bit more snappy than you intended, but you don’t stop to walk back your statements, intending on getting to the bottom of things as you stare at Puck out of the corner of your eye. Puck straightens instantly, shoulders rising. They’re quick to turn their head away from you, stiff as a board for a second before they almost shrink a little, an impressive feat, given their size. They don’t answer right away, scratching at a spot on their cheek for a second as their face flushes a bit. “I’m just… I think I was overreacting a bit, back in the shop.” They begin, rolling their wrist over a few times. “I’m not too used to this company, that’s all.” The response feels a bit cheap. Not exactly as snide and secretive as something Atlas would say, but certainly not the full picture. It feels… shallow. A pool of water that Puck tossed a stone into just to make sure the mud broke the vision. Considering how genuine they were before, it’s certainly something that doesn’t sit right. [[“I can imagine, given your job and all.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I get it. The company is… peculiar, that’s for sure.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“You just let it happen, though.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“The company doesn’t matter. You just dropped me.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

You don’t want to have to save this conversation. Not bringing something up feels like a cop-out, but your actions feel justified as you continue to walk down in silence. Why should it be your job to confront every issue? You’ve been forced through enough of them, you’re content just to let this one slide. Or boil underneath your skin. But you can’t escape it entirely, as Puck chooses to speak up first. “I’m sorry, for all of that.” They say, catching your attention quickly. Huh? They’re //apologizing//. You glance at them, quiet but waiting. They smile a bit awkwardly. “I’m just… I think I was overreacting a bit, back in the shop.” They begin, rolling their wrist over a few times. “I’m not too used to this company, that’s all.” The response feels a bit cheap. Not exactly as snide and secretive as something Atlas would say, but certainly not the full picture. It feels… shallow. A pool of water that Puck tossed a stone into just to make sure the mud broke the vision. Considering how genuine they were before, it’s certainly something that doesn’t sit right. [[“I can imagine, given your job and all.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“I get it. The company is… peculiar, that’s for sure.”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]] [[“You just let it happen, though.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“The company doesn’t matter. You just dropped me.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos -=10)>>“You just let it happen, though.” You point out, your tone direct enough to make Puck flinch a little. They raise a hand to their mouth and for a moment you consider sympathizing, but that conflict doesn’t last long within you as you frown further. They chose this. Chose to act so suddenly and chose not to defend you. You know you can’t ask that of everyone, but they’ve shown before that they have no trouble doing so. The switch up just reveals their faults. At least Puck has the decency to look ashamed. “I know I didn’t intend for it-“ “Didn’t intend or didn’t care?” That shuts them up. Puck’s face is a bit flushed now, lips parted slightly as they look at you with less concern now and more measured frustration. But they still don’t snap back. It kind of frustrates you. Like a child being chastised by a parent who //must// know more than them. “I didn’t //intend// for my actions to come across that way. I was just taken off guard.” They redirect, shuffling their coat on their arm up a bit. They frown, but it’s not as frustrated as before. “Just… give me time, please? I’ll explain things when I’m ready, but that’s not now.” You blink at them for a moment. That //please// felt wavering, like any further pushing would make them crack. Does this mean that much to them? Or are they just soft? You search their face for an answer for a moment, but get nothing but the defensive wall in front of you. Maybe that’s your fault. But you don’t want to fight. Not any more. Not right now. It doesn’t seem worth it. You nod, a considerably stiff motion, but Puck seems grateful as they let out a breath and nod back, turning back to the destination. [[You two walk the rest of the way in relative silence.]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos -=10)>>“The company doesn’t matter. You just dropped me.” You point out, aggravation pricking at your spine right beneath the collar. You don’t even try to hold back how your tone snaps out. Puck, for their part, flinches as if you really did manage to bite them. They don’t meet your eyes, cheeks flushed slightly as they tense up. They’re frowning, but letting you get this out. “You just //sat// there and let Atlas chew me out. For what? Because I looked at you? Figured out that you’re-” “Stop.” You blink as Puck cuts you off, their voice both horribly firm and horribly raw. Their body is tense but they slowly turn to look at you, lips forming a thin line as they stare at you for a second. “That’s enough. I’m sorry and it wasn’t your fault, but you don’t have the right to say that to me.” They reply, clearly trying to keep their voice steady as they frown at you. Your own frown twitches. “Just… give me time, please? I’ll explain things when I’m ready, but that’s not now.” You blink at them for a moment. That //please// felt wavering, like any further pushing would make them crack. Does this mean that much to them? Or are they just soft? You search their face for an answer for a moment, but get nothing but the defensive wall in front of you. Maybe that’s your fault. But you don’t want to fight. Not any more. Not right now. It doesn’t seem worth it. You nod, a considerably stiff motion, but Puck seems grateful as they let out a breath and nod back, turning back to the destination. [[You two walk the rest of the way in relative silence.]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos +=10)>>“I get it. The company is… peculiar, that’s for sure.” You reply with a faint shrug, a tiny, exasperated smile flickering across your features. Puck returns that with a similarly tired laugh. You’re in the same boat for a moment. Not traveling with the same oars, you can tell there’s something still that they won’t say, but the boat is nevertheless cozy. Puck lets out a deep breath as they think. It feels heavy. The tenseness in their shoulders don’t loosen, though. They seem to be thinking about something, then they speak again, smiling faintly as if recalling a memory. “It’s nice. People like that make things feel alive, you know?” They offer. You raise a brow at that particular wording, but don’t interrupt. They hum for a second, then grow a bit more serious, a bit more measured. “I appreciate it. Just… give me some time. I’ll explain things when I’m ready.” You hesitate a little, eyeing them as you walk, but slowly, you offer them a nod. You were right. There’s certainly something more going on. But maybe now it isn’t your place to pry. You’ll leave it be, for now. You just hope this understanding doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass. [[You two walk the rest of the way in relative silence.]]

<<set $puckrelationship to Math.clamp($puckrelationshippos +=10)>>“I can imagine, given your job and all.” You hum, nodding a bit to yourself. You think you understand their situation a little at least. Puck works for the Institute, lab work hire or not, and you’ve been in the belly of that forsaken building. It does not lend well to other shifters. Maybe they had a reason to hide it. Still makes their reaction to you confusing. Puck nods, seeming to think over something, but they clearly appreciate your display of understanding, letting out a deep breath as they think. It feels heavy. The tenseness in their shoulders don’t loosen, though. “It’s not all bad. Just doesn’t give me much time to get around.” They chuckle a bit heftily. Then, their expression grows a bit serious, a bit more measured. “I appreciate it. Just… give me some time. I’ll explain things when I’m ready.” You hesitate a little, eyeing them as you walk, but slowly, you offer them a nod. You were right. There’s certainly something more going on. But maybe now it isn’t your place to pry. You’ll leave it be, for now. You just hope this understanding doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass. [[You two walk the rest of the way in relative silence.]]

The rest of the walk back is relatively peaceful, all things considered. The smell of wet concrete and the crisp air keeps you from dragging your feet the whole way back, and as you pass by familiar areas, you can’t help but peek to see if everything’s the same as how you left it. You reach the basketball court somewhat quickly, the high fence posts catching your eye as you sneak a look inside. You don’t spot the group you were with last time, the court lying surprisingly empty. You wrinkle your nose at that a bit. Shouldn’t there be more people playing? Or maybe you just miss the activity, regardless of your personal participation in the matter. No. That feels too quizzical for the quick pass. You keep moving, eyes following the court as you walk by and even a little bit over your shoulder before you have to catch up a little with Puck’s strides. They wait for you though, not stepping too far out of your line of sight. You don’t know whether that should be comforting or annoying. There’s plenty to keep your attention as you walk though, the day stretching on as you scuff your shoes against the sidewalk. You scratch your neck a little, eyeing a stranger who you think stares a little too long at you. “Almost there.” Puck muses, almost as if they could tell you were beginning to become a bit bothered. You glance up, and like they said, you recognize the sheer building of the laboratory rising into view. You let out a little breath, but continue anyway. It takes a lot less long when you can count how many steps until you reach those glass doors. [[Next|lab enter 2]]

Upon reaching the lab, Puck unhooks their lab coat from their arm and shucks it over their shoulders, an easy motion that they narrow down to a science as they smooth down their front and pin back on a little tag for the front pocket. They’re just as quick to hold open the door for you, giving you a brief smile, and you’re back in. The sterile lights are a bit irritating, less so from the brightness, and more from just how artificial it feels after having the sun on your back for a moment there. There’s no warmth in these lights. Puck leads the way back upstairs, every other professional in the place offering nothing more than a slight head tilt in your direction as you pass, if that. It’s not exactly the same, but as you follow the scientist in front of you, you note a similar tenseness to their walk that you recognized within Atlas’s back at the Institute. You swallow hard as you consider it. No way everyone here didn’t know Puck was a dragon shifter. You personally had to fill out an entire file about your species and them— working for the Institute like this? It wasn’t even a question. You suddenly feel like you’re understanding Puck a lot more. The two of you enter the lab room quietly and without fuss, Puck closing the door behind you as they move towards the nearest sink to rinse off. You pause in the middle of the room, looking out at the fish tank in front of you. The swirls of deep blue and flashes of oranges and brilliant yellows draw you in, letting you relax as you watch idly as the fish flicker by like lights on a midnight highway. “You can feed them if you want.” What? You blink, pulling yourself out of your trance as you glance over your shoulder and see Puck drying off their hands, back still turned to you. “I’ve got to collect the reports for Atlas anyways. Go ahead, it’s that little red container on your left.” They offer, tossing the paper towels into a bin before they turn off towards their desk again. You watch them for a moment, wondering if you should say something or disagree or really do anything else in the moment, but nothing comes to you. It’s a little too much to ask of you right now. Sometimes, you just got to feed some fish. [[Next|go feed some fish]]

You approach the fish tank slowly, almost cautiously. There’s no real way to fuck this up, you don’t think, but you eye the fish carefully, as if one wrong move would scatter them to the winds. They seem rather calm, clearly used to people approaching so closely. You don’t reach for the bottle right away, instead peering at the various fish that fill the space. There’s not as many fish as you would think with a tank this big, especially considering how many different types there are, but you don’t think they’d look this healthy if they weren’t well-taken care of. With an easy movement, the fish food bottle is in your hand as you reach up, quietly opening a section in the top that you figure is the right place before you shake a couple of flakes into the tank. You don’t want to overdo it, setting your jaw a bit as you eye it and try to estimate what you need to put in. Puck hardly gave you any instruction, so you’d rather be safe than sorry. You don’t need a bunch of dead fish on your conscience. You only tap in a little, pulling back as the brown flakes float down and are quickly snapped up by the various fish who swim off soon after. You close the top and step back, watching as some fish dart to and fro, while others swim a bit more languidly, happy to take their time with feeding. You note with a small tilt of your head that one fish that had caught your eye earlier is one such languid swimmer, casually inching by a spot of fake coral. The blue and red betta. You can spot the scars more easily from here. They’re long, and bite into the sides of shining scales as multiple thin lines, cutting through fins and flesh to show just how much this fish has lived through. But they’re old scars. It’s difficult to tell, especially given how small the creature is, but you know wounds, and these wounds have certainly had time to heal. [[“Atom catch your eye?”]]

<<if $expressive > 50>>You jump a little, just barely holding back a noise of surprise as you leap a bit to the side. Puck raises their hands, a bit sheepish, but waves your nerves down.<<else>>You snap your head to the side, blinking over at Puck as they look a bit startled by how silently you reacted.<</if>> “Adam?” You ask. “//Atom//.” They correct. You look back to the betta, a newfound recognition flashing through you as you stare at the small fish. “Aren’t betta fish aggressive?” You point out, glancing again at all the various colorful fish that fill the water with color and life. “This seems like a disaster waiting to happen.” Puck hums and actually smiles a little, leaning against the counter to your side as they stare almost fondly at the betta. //Almost// seems like a stretch, actually. It’s definitely adoration. “Only bad owners make them that way. Bettas behave fine if they’re left to their own devices and given a comfortable territory.” Their eyes flash to you for a moment. “Trapped in a small space with one of their own and //that’s// when they're backed into a corner.” You pause, thinking over their words for a second. Backed into a corner. It feels fitting. You glance back at Atom and reach up for your collar, running a few fingers faintly over the metal. “I think I can relate.” You say, voice a little quiet. A little sad. Puck doesn’t reply. You can’t see their expression, but hear a little shuffle as they adjust in place but aren’t leaving your side. It’s company, at least. “Why Atom?” It’s Puck’s turn to register the question for a second. You curl your head just slightly to eye them, only to see them smirking a bit as their eyes slide from the glass to your face. “It’s because he’s my //everything.//“ [[That was the worst thing you’ve ever heard.|puck joke notfunne]] [[That was the best thing you’ve ever heard.|puck joke funne]]

You choke back a response, eyes widening a bit as you blink at Puck. They’re still smirking, unmoving from the awful position of a joke they’ve just taken. You rear back a bit, smile working its way onto your face, but it’s more out of your body’s need to respond with anything. Visceral disgust will have to be shown with a smile, it seems. “Is that supposed to be funny?” You scoff, an eyebrow raised. The scientist doesn’t seem to falter in the least, shrugging their shoulders a bit with a small hum of consideration. “Supposed to be.” “You’ve got to get better material.” “Atlas thinks I’m funny.” They add, leaning back a bit. You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose, looking back at the fish for a second. It’s not something you know they intended to be cruel with, but nevertheless you are reminded of your situation, expression dropping a bit. Puck notices this one, giving you a moment of silence before they speak. They’re leaned forwards now towards the tank, light reflecting in their glasses as the fish swim lackadaisically past. “He’s not all that bad, yknow’?” You frown a bit further. That’s bullshit. Puck notes this as well, if their heavy sigh is any indication. “He’d hate it if I told you this, but he’s sure not going to himself.” [[Next|puck collar confess]]

You freeze on the spot, blinking in shock at Puck’s comment. Their //pun//. God their //pun//. They’re still smirking, waiting quietly for your response to their bombshell. Finally, you laugh, a sharp thing that blurts from you as you lean back and allow the ridiculousness to overcome you as you cackle. You put a hand up to your forehead, face crinkled in amusement and relief. “Wow. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, I think.” You chuckle, wiping your hand back as you let it fall and smile wide at Puck, eyebrows furrowed a bit. Puck gives you a tilt of their head, and you’re reminded of a polite bow. Or maybe a brief curtsy. “I’m honored. But there’s not much competition.” “Ouch.” “Atlas thinks I’m funny.” They add, leaning back a bit. You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose, looking back at the fish for a second. It’s not something you know they intended to be cruel with, but nevertheless you are reminded of your situation, expression dropping a bit. Puck notices this one, giving you a moment of silence before they speak. They’re leaned forwards now towards the tank, light reflecting in their glasses as the fish swim lackadaisically past. “He’s not all that bad, yknow’?” You frown a bit further. That’s bullshit. Puck notes this as well, if their heavy sigh is any indication. “He’d hate it if I told you this, but he’s sure not going to himself.” [[Next|puck collar confess]]

You lift your head at that. What? Thankfully, you don’t have to wait long for your answer. “Atlas hates that blasted thing.” They start, motioning to the collar around your throat. You raise a hand instinctively, eyes widening. “Thinks they’re ineffective. Useless. Didn’t even want you wearing it in the first place.” You start a little, not even trying to hide the confusion that crosses your face. That can’t be right. Could it? “But //he’s// the one who keeps making me wear it. Why do something he opposes so strongly?” You ask, pointing out the first point that comes to your head. Puck chews the inside of their cheek and you think you know the answer before they say it. “Dealing with the Institute… it’s not that easy.” They murmur, voice a bit quieter. You feel your shoulders drop a bit. You know that firsthand. Or at least have known that through Atlas. You scratch idly at a spot beneath the collar. “He’s trying to advocate for you. Seriously. I wouldn’t lie about this.” You have to stand there for a minute, brow furrowed as you take in this information. He’s… //advocating// for you? //Trying// for you? That feels antithetical to every way in which you know him. Opposite to every word, every glance, every meager opportunity you’ve given him and every chance he’s taken to prove you wrong. It doesn’t sit right. Doesn’t align, not entirely. But Puck has no reason to lie to you. At least not if they’re as removed from the Institute as you hope. Hope. You wish it wasn’t as flimsy as that. “Just… give him a chance, alright? I know he’s not perfect, but none of us are in situations like these.” [[“He’s gotta prove that.”][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]] [[“I’ll try.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“No. He never gave me one.”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]] [[“You like him a lot, don’t you?” (♡)]]

“He’s gotta prove that.” You murmur in response, huffing a bit as you cross your arms a little. This feels weird, having this conversation with Puck and not Atlas. “I’ll be waiting ’til then.” Puck looks at you for a moment, but nods, taking your answer quietly and without issue. Thank goodness. You really didn’t want to argue or have to dredge up all of the examples of why you feel so justified in this point. It is just left to be. And you’re grateful for that. They lean back up, giving the fish one more look, then tap the counter a bit with their knuckles. “Well, I’ve got the papers together. I’ll text Reese and Atlas back, then we should be good.” [[Next|monitor start]]

“I’ll try.” You sigh, dropping your shoulders a bit. It feels like a practically monumental task, but you’ve already been looking for lights at the end of the tunnels. At least having someone here ask it of you makes it feel more recognized. You can go a little further, push a little harder. Or, at the very least, you can complain to someone who asked it of you in the first place. Whichever works in the moment. “Thank you, $name. I appreciate it more than you know.” They sigh, chuckling a little as they shake their head a bit. “I know it’s a lot, but I promise even just sticking through is worth it.” You hope they’re right. Puck leans back up, giving the fish one more look, then tap the counter a bit with their knuckles. “Well, I’ve got the papers together. I’ll text Reese and Atlas back, then we should be good.” [[Next|monitor start]]

<<set $puckromance =+1>>“You like him a lot, don’t you?” You suddenly ask, tilting your head to look at Puck a little now. The scientist seems a bit taken off guard, but slowly, a softer smile splits their face. A similar fondness to the one you saw while looking over the fish settles in their eyes as they hum a bit, looking away for a second. You got your answer before you even finished speaking. “I do.” They muse, turning back to you with that same fondness. You don’t think about it for a moment, but then realize that Puck’s expression hasn’t dimmed. Not as they look at you. In fact, you think there’s even more now than there was in the first place. “But I like a whole lot of people.” [[You falter a little at that, a bit taken aback by the blatant flirting.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You smile right back, putting on a little extra charm in the process.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

You adjust yourself a bit and lean off of the countertop, taking one more glance at the fish before you turn away. You spot Puck’s papers tucked into a small file to the side, something they pick up with ease and tap at the smaller circular device you were studying earlier, moving to place it further in the back of the room. Right. You had forgotten all about that. Isn’t for you to worry about anyways, you hope. As your companion begins to draft a message for the others, you take a second to study the rest of the room. <<if $chase is true>>You eye the security monitor you spotted before for a moment, sliding up to it as you idly run your hands over a few files and other small devices organized on the opposite side of the room.<<else>>Your eyes drift to a monitor seated opposite of Puck’s desk. It’s running some kind of security footage, and you don’t have to investigate much further to realize it’s of the hallway right outside. It has rather grainy footage, but you watch it as you idly run your hands over a few files and other small devices organized on the desk in front of you.<</if>> There’s a clear divide in personal affects here, Puck’s desk holding a few smaller knickknacks and plants that this other desk seems severely allergic to, only white, clean marble as far as you can see. “You have a lab partner, right?” You ask, recognizing that this space may belong to the blonde woman you saw leaving earlier. You cast a glance over your shoulder. “Ah, yes. She doesn’t come here very often, though. Has been becoming busier and busier working up at the actual offices in the Institute building.” They reply, scoffing a bit though it doesn’t sound all that mean. “Verrry important stuff up there. Can’t bother to visit all that much anymore.” You huff out a laugh at Puck’s tone, looking back to the monitor again. You can see pretty far down the hallway from this shot, actually. “You sound like a disgruntled host.” “I //am.//“ You open your mouth to respond to that, but pause when you spot something on the cameras. Someone, another scientist from the looks of it, running down the hallway. They’re scrambling, bolting away from something you can’t see as they run past your room and disappear on the opposite end where the camera can’t see. You can hear their hurried footsteps and breathing as they rush past. [[That’s not good.|monitor 1]]

Huh. This was an unexpected turn, but one you welcome nevertheless. You smile right back at them, eyes flicking down to their own small smile for a moment before you glance back up. Hm. Interesting. “A whole lot of people, huh? Got anyone specific in mind?” You reply, lifting an eyebrow as you inch just ever so closer. puck doesn't back up, instead staring at you for a long moment. You swear you can faintly smell lavender on their collar. Damn. Your throat tightens up a bit. “Nope.” Puck suddenly adds, coolly leaning back up as they smoothly remove themselves from your proximity. You sputter a bit, taken of guard by the sudden perceived rejection. As you blink at them, you spot amusement glittering in their eyes behind the thick-framed lenses. “Not yet, at least.” You huff, but smile slightly. Fine. So be it. Not yet. They chuckle, patting you gently on the back. You swear their hand lingers for a second. The moment is over probably before you wish as Puck raps their knuckles against the counter. “Well, I’ve got the papers together. I’ll text Reese and Atlas back, then we should be good.” [[Next|monitor start]]

Oh. //Ohhhhh//. You flush a little at the implication, blinking as you register the implication which sets in as a burning heat to the tips of your ears. You falter, blinking owlishly at Puck. And ever the one to complete the fish metaphor, they grin and lean in a bit closer like a shark who’s smelled blood. “Something wrong?” They ask. You don’t know what to say, a bit too stunned to react and far less confident that you can handle the smooth talking they’re sending your way. You feel like your heart is //hammering// as you can faintly smell lavender on their collar. It’s intoxicating. Shit— is your mouth open? Your clothing crooked? You’ve got something in your teeth you know it— Puck laughs and leans back, looking more put together now but still with that amused twinkle in their eyes. You let out an embarrassing wheeze. “Hey, settle down. Don’t want you having a heart attack second day on the job.” They chuckle, patting you gently on the back. You swear their hand lingers for a second. The moment is over probably before you wish as Puck raps their knuckles against the counter. “Well, I’ve got the papers together. I’ll text Reese and Atlas back, then we should be good.” [[Next|monitor start]]

On instinct, you feel your body react to the change in the air. <<if $species is "venomspitter">>You feel a particularly strong feeling of something being wrong, a familiar feeling that prickles at your spine. A big perk about being a Venomspitter, you know when you’re about to get fucked.<</if>> The hair on the back of your neck rises as you glance to Puck, waving a hand up to catch their attention. “Hey, Puck?” You start, eyes wide and watching the screen. Nothing's happened since, but you don’t like this. Your gut churns uncomfortably. Your companion walks over, catching your expression, and instantly taking it seriously as they look at the screen with you. “What is…” They start, squinting. Another scientist runs past, this time more frantically. Puck’s head snaps up as you both hear the person trip in front of your door, then pick themselves up with a yelp and continue running. You watch Puck raise an arm to put in front of you, like that would do any good. “$name?” You look at Puck, who turns their head to look at you, eyes wide and terrified. “//Hide.//” [[You hide.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[You stand firm.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

You don’t think twice. You’ve had horrible luck so far already with danger, you don’t need any more. The collar at your throat won’t be giving you any hand up in this scenario, anyways. Plus, the look in Puck’s eyes only confirms your terror, your own startled expression reflecting back towards you through their glasses. You turn, feeling your heart rate pickup as you look around for a moment. There’s no place to hide in the front here, everything far too exposed and bright. As you snap your gaze up though, you spot the fish tank again, and more importantly, the space behind it. There’s a scattering of other desks, full of scattered material and plenty of places to hide. You’re on it. The last thing you spot is Puck backing up slowly as you race for the empty desks. You barely let your eyes slide over the draped technologies as you search for a more secluded spot, trying to keep the hammering in your heart to a minimum as you spot a bit of that draped fabric just barely covering up a spot underneath one of the desks. It’s not perfect, but it will do. You quickly duck into the cramped space, putting your back against the cold marble as you tuck in your limbs and tense. <<if $height is "tall">>It’s a horribly tight fight, but you manage to squeeze in only mildly awkwardly.<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>It’s a horribly tight fight, but you manage to squeeze in only mildly awkwardly.<</if>> You can hear footsteps— multiple of them, approaching the door at a rapid pace. You tense further and hold your breath, fingers twitching as you curl in even further. They’re coming. You recognize at the last minute that Puck is alone and unarmed. [[Then the door is broken in.|lab break in]]

“What? No way! Let me help!” You’re quick to argue, stepping up and out from behind Puck, brow furrowing as you glance firmly from the door to the monitor. No movement yet, but you can hear the stomping growing closer. Your heart beats a little faster. “No- //you’re// not meant to be here. You can get away with this, please-“ Puck starts, desperately looking between the door and you now. They shake their head, dreadlocks swinging as they stand similarly firm and gesture up to your neck. “You won’t have a shot with that still on you. We don’t even know what’s happening just-” They turn and tense as there’s a thump from outside. You eye the door for a moment, quiet, before checking the monitor again. Something moves in the corner, down the hallway. Someone's coming. You suddenly have to stumble backwards as Puck pushes you towards the back of the laboratory, eyes wide and frightened. “Go go go go go-” They hiss out. You growl and curse, but it dies in the air as you finally give in and spin around, shooting off towards the back of the room, a section separated by the fish tank. Puck is right. Even with your knife still attached to your hip, there’s no telling what’s approaching. Maybe nothing horrible at all. You scoff at that. Doubtful. Behind the tank, there’s a scattering of other desks, all covered with various technologies you can’t place, and a length of fabric draped over most of it. This will have to do. You curse inwardly. This feels cowardly. You quickly duck into the cramped space, putting your back against the cold marble as you tuck in your limbs and tense. <<if $height is "tall">>It’s a horribly tight fight, but you manage to squeeze in only mildly awkwardly.<</if>><<if $height is "huge">>It’s a horribly tight fight, but you manage to squeeze in only mildly awkwardly.<</if>> You can hear footsteps— multiple of them, approaching the door at a rapid pace. You tense further and hold your breath, fingers twitching as you curl in even further. They’re coming. You recognize at the last minute that Puck is alone and unarmed. [[Then the door is broken in.|lab break in]]

From your position beneath the desk, you can just barely make out the forms of a group of people that enter, their silhouettes the most visible thing you can make out from beneath the draped fabric. You can’t make out how many there are, but as they filter in, one steps in who //dwarfs// the others. Has to be over six feet, likely more. That one’s the first to speak. “Well, isn’t it cozy in here?” What the hell. You spot Puck’s shape scrambling back a bit, listening intently as you hear their back hit the broad side of the fish tank. Some more footsteps as that large figure somehow grows larger, casting dark shapes across the floor as their shadow slices through the light of the tank. “You aren’t welcome here without a-” “Hey hey hey, settle down now, we’re only visitors. Just looking for a little stolen property. You wouldn’t happen to know about it, would you?” The voice interrupts. You suppress a shiver at the voice, a deep, gravely thing that has a little too much lilt to it to be anything but //playful//. Playful? That makes you all the more uncomfortable. The words themselves aren’t any less alarming, either. Stolen Property? Your chest tightens. “Raijin, the signal’s coming from in here.” Another voice informs, tone a bit more regulated but still all too threatening. There’s a shuffle. “What are you waiting for then? Find it.” Wait. In here? What were they tracking? Multiple answers flash through your head all to be shot down within seconds, from the murdered body, which was never in this room to begin with, to any number of the various technologies they have stashed among these walls. No. The voice said //stolen// property. You hold back a small gasp as you put it together. <<if hasVisited("gang meet- success")>>A point you brought up earlier. When you were chasing down the Firespitter from the day before, hadn’t he talked about someone coming after him? It could have been due to any sort of paranoia induced by the scenario, but those were very specific words he chose. A worse fate than you or the Institute for that matter. And here it was.<<else>>There’s only one thing here that was brought so recently in— one alien object that you recall having to nearly fight tooth and claw for. Something that was certainly stolen in the first place, but was changed before you even got to it.<</if>> Your eyes rise to the top of a nearby desk, where you can spot the small circular disc, the one you had been investigating just that morning, shines under the sterile laboratory lights. You hear muttering and a pair of footsteps approaching the back of the lab. [[Next|lab break in 2]]

<<set $wound to false>>You are struck by a moment of panic as the steps get closer, your thoughts being pulled from the disc to the strangers to your safety. If these were simply Institute members, there wouldn’t be so much panic to get this in the first place. Hell— it was practically already in their hands, and a piece this small didn’t seem worth the effort. But for an outside group interested in top of the line material? That might be worth killing for. <<if $expressive > 50>>You flinch<<else>>Your eyes widen<</if>> as you hear a loud thud, quickly whipping your head around towards the noise as Puck lets out a strangled yelp. You bristle as you see their shape, still deformed by the water of the tank, suddenly growing larger as their frame is pinned up against the glass and the larger figure looms down over them. You think you can make out a flash of gold. “Aw c'mon. You know what we’re after, dontcha’? You’re a scientist, aren’t you supposed to be smart?” The man, Raijin, laughs. His laugh is more imposing than his speech, a ragged, guttural thing that echoes in the space and sends a chill down your spine. Puck is in trouble. Can they even defend themselves? Hell, can //you// defend yourself? As the man continues talking, you hear the footsteps from the other voice coming closer. You eye the device again. Whatever these people want, they can’t be allowed to have it. They’ve already nearly hurt Puck, very likely more if their violent attitude is worth anything. You hold your breath for a moment. //This is so stupid this is so stupid this is so stupid.// In a flash, you reach a hand out from beneath the table, snatching the small device off of the desktop. As soon as you grip it, you yank yourself back under the desk, hitting your head a bit on the way back as you suck in a breath but stay silent. The footsteps continue, a bit more slow now, but clearly not disturbed by your movement. You clasp the small circular disc tightly with a hand, trying to keep your breathing quiet as it intensifies on its own. “What? Cat got your tongue? Or… one of these tasty little things?” “Don’t-” There’s a small bang as you turn your head just in time to watch Puck being pulled forwards just to be forced right back into the glass. Your eyes widen as you spot the glass tremble, a soft cracking sound clueing you in to just how bad things are getting. Shit. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you sit, the stranger nearby growing closer as you try to figure out what to do. [[Stay hidden.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous +10, 0, 100)]] [[Help Puck.][$nervous to Math.clamp($nervous -10, 0, 100)]]

Shit. No. Puck can take care of this. <<if $nervous < 50>>In any other circumstance, you’d be ready to defend yourself at a moment’s notice. Here, however, you can’t get the look in Puck’s eyes out of your head. They were afraid. //For// you.<<else>>You wouldn’t want to risk anything— running out there now would be silly, and you certainly aren’t about to risk your head for nothing.<</if>> As you swallow, the thick steel of the collar around your neck tightens ever so slightly to remind you of its presence. It’s a bad idea. Puck would want you to stay hidden. You hope. There’s another footstep, this time much more close than you’re comfortable with, but you stay silent, watching the cover to your side move faintly as a shadow falls over you. You hold your breath. You can practically feel the stranger’s breath as they close in, moving almost as if they //know// someone's hiding. No no no no no… The moment is shattered by the sound of broken glass. You jolt involuntarily as your eyes widen, attention snapped away to the other side as you are able to see the aftermath of the fish tank shattering. Broken glass flies everywhere, breaking across the floor as water drains instantly and floods the ground below. Even from cover, you can see the large figure, hand still clenched over Puck’s collar, and the scientist themselves, back pushed back against the broken glass as they recover from being forced into it hard enough for it to snap. You startle at the obscured sight. Fuck. A hand suddenly lashes out, gripping you by the wrist as someone yanks you out from cover, all your self-preservation instincts firing off at once as you are ripped away from your hiding spot by a hand that intends to harm. You instinctively grab for your knife, carrying it up in an arc before your other wrist is grabbed and you are just as quickly knocked and pinned to the floor, your head hitting the ground //hard//. [[“Stay down.”]]

<<set $wound to true>>Another cracking sound and you’ve made up your mind. Puck can’t do this alone and hell, you don’t think you can either. If there’s any chance of escaping here or even only diverting their attention, you have to take it. Now. <<if $nervous < 50>>Every part of you is begging you to stay still, to stay quiet, but another voice, more brave than you believe you are, tells you to commit. Go. You listen to it.<<else>>It's not even a question for you. Regardless if the action is stupid, if it's not well thought out, you have to do //something//. Your very self has to act.<</if>> You don't hesitate another second as you suddenly break away from under the desk, shooting out from under the fabric as you race straight for the fish tank, making a break for it as your hand moves for your knife. You hear footsteps behind you, but you're too locked into the moment to do anything but run ahead. You just barely clear the edge of the tank in time to spot Puck's startled expression directed towards you, before something suddenly grabs your wrist. It comes as a hard yank that stops you entirely in your tracks as the sheer strength has you in a vice grip. You don't even have time to trip up, eyes widening as you are pulled into turning around to face your attacker, who doesn't give you a moment to register the situation before his other hand is on your other shoulder, and you are unceremoniously shoved to the ground. You gasp as you hit the ground, your shoulder forced against the tile with a horrible cracking sound and pain that doesn't reach you before your back smacks against the ground with equal force. The pain feels sharp, then numbing, only to return as thousands of sharp stings to your shoulder and collarbone, which causes your back to arch slightly at the sudden sensation. Oh shit. Yeah that's not good. You can't stop the cry that leaves you, but as you try to raise a hand, either to defend yourself or hold your shoulder, the man above you lifts you only to slam you back down against the ground, hard. [[“Stay down.”|help puck 2]]

“Take me out to dinner first, why dontcha’?” You grin suddenly, trying to not let the panic show on your face as you try and force yourself upwards. The man above you doesn’t even falter, looking unamusedly down at you as he pushes down further in turn. “Hm? Another one?” The other voice hums. You hear Puck coughing as they are dropped, footsteps casually moving over to behind the shattered tank as you hear glass crunching beneath a set of heavy boots. You spot the man as he steps over you then, the man holding you down moving himself just a bit to swipe the knife away from you and keep you down with a pal to your chest. Your eyes widen a bit at the sight further above you though. “Aw, this ones all collared up.” Raijin chuckles, that awful laugh overwhelming your senses for a moment. You swear, even from this angle on the ground, that this man easily clears seven feet tall. He stands imposing, slightly hunched, with a large fisherman’s coat that just barely ends before your nose. He slicks back his black hair with a hand, a wicked looking prosthetic left arm rising to meet the greasy mullet. The dark arm was divided into sections, each a few inches tall, and each ending in a sharp point that made the deadly looking claws the hand ended in that much more threatening. It was built like a bear trap, deadly points on clear display, just like the smile he gives you. It becomes instantly clear to you why you spotted a flash of gold earlier, both his earrings and canines, sharp and poised, were coated in the shining color, the gaudy display only making you all the more uncomfortable with this position. “Found $himher with this.” The other man mentions, suddenly using his free hand to wrestle the device out of your hand. You try and pull back for a moment, but you are unceremoniously shoved right back to the ground, wheezing in the process. Shows you to try fighting a shifter without a weapon. [[“Please- we can talk about this!”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“That’s not yours!”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“Let me go!” You shout, trying to force yourself upwards at the same time as your brow furrows. The man above you doesn’t falter for a second, pushing you down in the same moment as he raises his head. “Hm? Another one?” The other voice hums. You hear Puck coughing as they are dropped, footsteps casually moving over to behind the shattered tank as you hear glass crunching beneath a set of heavy boots. You spot the man as he steps over you then, the man holding you down moving himself just a bit to swipe the knife away from you and keep you down with a pal to your chest. Your eyes widen a bit at the sight further above you though. “Aw, this ones all collared up.” Raijin chuckles, that awful laugh overwhelming your senses for a moment. You swear, even from this angle on the ground, that this man easily clears seven feet tall. He stands imposing, slightly hunched, with a large fisherman’s coat that just barely ends before your nose. He slicks back his black hair with a hand, a wicked looking prosthetic left arm rising to meet the greasy mullet. The dark arm was divided into sections, each a few inches tall, and each ending in a sharp point that made the deadly looking claws the hand ended in that much more threatening. It was built like a bear trap, deadly points on clear display, just like the smile he gives you. It becomes instantly clear to you why you spotted a flash of gold earlier, both his earrings and canines, sharp and poised, were coated in the shining color, the gaudy display only making you all the more uncomfortable with this position. “Found $himher with this.” The other man mentions, suddenly using his free hand to wrestle the device out of your hand. You try and pull back for a moment, but you are unceremoniously shoved right back to the ground, wheezing in the process. Shows you to try fighting a shifter without a weapon. [[“Please- we can talk about this!”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“That’s not yours!”][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“Please- we can talk about this!” You manage out between harsh breaths, pushing up again as you try scrambling out. Maybe you don’t have to fight. There’s been plenty enough misunderstandings, this didn’t have to be another one. You lift a hand in a peace-making gesture, only for Raijin to tilt his head at the attempt, scoffing a little as his confusion turns to amusement. He crouches down, getting a little too close for your comfort, and your eyes flick down an inch as you spot a ragged scar, an old thing, splitting around his throat nestled between the stubble leftover on his neck. He flicks your forehead, and you <<if $kind < 50>>snap at him, narrowly missing his finger as he draws it back with a laugh.<<else>> flinch back, struck by how casually he’s going about all of this.<</if>> “Now the scientist I understand, but why are //you// here?” The large man asks, squinting a bit. You close your mouth, swallowing hard as you realize answering this particular question might land you in hot water. Well… hotter water than you’re already in. Seems like you don’t need to answer though, as Raijin stands, hands on his hips, humming as if he’s made up his mind about something. “Maddox, bring $himher up to the front. Could be useful to have a little something in our back pocket.” He says with a decisive nod. You freeze up. Did he-? No way. No- this can’t actually be happening. The man still holding you down, Maddox, raises his head, squinting at his boss as if he can’t believe what he’s just said. You hope it’s just a nightmare. “Boss, you can’t be serious. The Institute is-“ “Cmon’ then! Up and attem’! Make sure the bonds are tight, can’t have another situation like that Firespitter.” You let out a yelp as Maddox lets out a huff and suddenly yanks you up, someone else grabbing your arms from behind as rough rope is tried harshly across your wrists. Your panic kicks in as you realize that there’s more people in this room, more opportunities to get hurt, and more to lose here. You try pulling out, shoving in, anything to escape the hold you suddenly find yourself in. There’s two for certain, now possibly three people. Were there more before? Are there more now? Your senses feel like they blur together, your rationality narrowing as does your vision. You’re practically defenseless like this, collar tight around your throat and knife scattered to who knows where. [[Next|lab break in end]]

“That’s not yours!” You shout, trusting your voice to carry the venom you want it to. You try thrashing in the hold again as you do, baring your teeth at Raijin, though you’re sure your attempts to be threatening don’t get you much of anywhere as the man grins with a tilt of his head, staring down at you like you were some kind of animal. He crouches down, getting a little too close for your comfort, and your eyes flick down an inch as you spot a ragged scar, an old thing, splitting around his throat nestled between the stubble leftover on his neck. He flicks your forehead, and you <<if $kind < 50>>snap at him, narrowly missing his finger as he draws it back with a laugh.<<else>> flinch back, struck by how casually he’s going about all of this.<</if>> “Now the scientist I understand, but why are //you// here?” The large man asks, squinting a bit. You close your mouth, swallowing hard as you realize answering this particular question might land you in hot water. Well… hotter water than you’re already in. Seems like you don’t need to answer though, as Raijin stands, hands on his hips, humming as if he’s made up his mind about something. “Maddox, bring $himher up to the front. Could be useful to have a little something in our back pocket.” He says with a decisive nod. You freeze up. Did he-? No way. No- this can’t actually be happening. The man still holding you down, Maddox, raises his head, squinting at his boss as if he can’t believe what he’s just said. You hope it’s just a nightmare. “Boss, you can’t be serious. The Institute is-“ “Cmon’ then! Up and attem’! Make sure the bonds are tight, can’t have another situation like that Firespitter.” You let out a yelp as Maddox lets out a huff and suddenly yanks you up, someone else grabbing your arms from behind as rough rope is tried harshly across your wrists. Your panic kicks in as you realize that there’s more people in this room, more opportunities to get hurt, and more to lose here. You try pulling out, shoving in, anything to escape the hold you suddenly find yourself in. There’s two for certain, now possibly three people. Were there more before? Are there more now? Your senses feel like they blur together, your rationality narrowing as does your vision. You’re practically defenseless like this, collar tight around your throat and knife scattered to who knows where. [[Next|lab break in end]]

<<if hasVisited("Stay hidden.")>><<if $expressive > 50>>“No! Stop! You can’t do this!” You shout, cursing and putting up resistance wherever you can. It falls on deaf ears though, the group shoving you forwards and leading you out of the room.<<else>>You growl, adjusting your shoulders and shooting glares at the others as the group maneuvers you and slowly begin shoving you to the front and out of the room.<</if>> You pause as you spot something bright near your shoe, struggle dropping as you recognize what lies next to your shoe. Atom, the betta fish, lies in a shallow puddle of water on the floor, twitching ever so slightly as you stare down at him. You cast your eyes to the side, spotting various brightly colored fish lying dead or dying across the floor among shards of glass. And back against the countertop, Puck remains still, panting as they watch everything unfolding in front of them. They’re sitting, nearly sprawled, but raise their head as you meet their eyes.<<else>><<if $expressive > 50>>“No! Stop! You can’t do this!” You shout, cursing and putting up resistance wherever you can. It falls on deaf ears though, the group shoving you forwards and leading you out of the room.<<else>>You growl, adjusting your shoulders and shooting glares at the others as the group maneuvers you and slowly begin shoving you to the front and out of the room.<</if>> As you are led out, you turn your head to look desperately at Puck. You can spot all of the fish in the tank scattered, either swimming frantically away, or hidden beneath one of the many fake pieces of coral. You swear you can spot blood in the water.<</if>> //Please,// you think. //Please help me//. Puck stares on in complete shock, but doesn’t move a muscle. Can’t move an inch. You don’t know whether or not it’s because of the shock, but as you are shoved forwards and nearly trip over your own two feet, watching Puck just stare on in horror with their shirt soaked clean through, it feels like a betrayal. A hand is forced onto the back of your head to cart you away, and the last thing you spot before the door closes is Puck’s eyes, wide and horrified. There’s a crack in their glasses. [[You don’t think you’re going to live to see the sunrise.|chapter two end]]

Thank you so much for reading! For more content and future updates on upcoming chapters, check out the <a href="https://skinandscales-if.tumblr.com">dev blog</a> and stay tuned for more!

The man pinning you down is not as large as you suspected he’d be. It’s the first thought that flashes across your mind but as you try and pull your arms out of his grasp, his grip tightens and you are convinced he is much stronger than he looks. He’s not short by any means, but your head is spinning and your ears are ringing and his eyes, one brown and one stark blue, are glaring down at you with an all-business look. It’s hard to really put the thoughts into proper order, but you do try. “Oh holy shit.” You hear from beside you, the rumbling voice devolving into stunned laughter for a second. You grind your teeth together as you realize the gravity of the situation, and you try to thrash away, unable to shift or do anything to defend yourself. The man’s grip only tightens, his features twitching into a frown but otherwise not changing despite your struggles. What the //hell// this guy was strong. <<if $stgadd > 50>>It was honestly a little startling, especially given your own strength.<</if>> As you resist however, you spot the man’s pupils pull back into slits, an exasperated breath leaving you as you realize what’s going on. Dragon-shifter. Go figure. [[“Take me out to dinner first, why dontcha’?”|sarc lab help puck][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Let me go!”|gen lab help puck][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]]

“Take me out to dinner first, why dontcha’?” You grin suddenly, trying to not let the panic show on your face as you try and force yourself upwards. The man above you doesn’t even falter, looking unamusedly down at you as he pushes down further in turn. “Another one, huh?” Raijin chuckles, that awful laugh overwhelming your senses for a moment. You swear, even from this angle on the ground, that this man easily clears seven feet tall. He stands imposing, slightly hunched, with a large fisherman’s coat that just barely ends before your nose. He slicks back his black hair with a hand, a wicked looking prosthetic left arm rising to meet the greasy mullet. The dark arm was divided into sections, each a few inches tall, and each ending in a sharp point that made the deadly looking claws the hand ended in that much more threatening. It was built like a bear trap, deadly points on clear display, just like the smile he gives you. His other hand is still gripped tight around Puck's collar, keeping the terrified-looking scientist pinned up against the fish tank. At least it's not broken. It becomes instantly clear to you why you spotted a flash of gold earlier, both Raijin's earrings and canines, sharp and poised, were coated in the shining color, the gaudy display only making you all the more uncomfortable with this position. His eyes flash as he glances between you and Puck, and the man above you snatches the knife out of your grip, sending it scattering somewhere across the ground. “Found $himher with this.” The other man mentions, suddenly using his free hand to wrestle the device out of your hand. You try and pull back for a moment, but you are unceremoniously shoved right back to the ground, wheezing in the process as your shoulder burns. Shows you to try fighting a shifter without a weapon. [[“Please- we can talk about this!”|kind lab puck help][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“That’s not yours!”|agg lab puck help][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“Let me go!” You shout, trying to force yourself upwards at the same time as your brow furrows. The man above you doesn’t falter for a second, pushing you down in the same moment as he raises his head. “Another one, huh?” Raijin chuckles, that awful laugh overwhelming your senses for a moment. You swear, even from this angle on the ground, that this man easily clears seven feet tall. He stands imposing, slightly hunched, with a large fisherman’s coat that just barely ends before your nose. He slicks back his black hair with a hand, a wicked looking prosthetic left arm rising to meet the greasy mullet. The dark arm was divided into sections, each a few inches tall, and each ending in a sharp point that made the deadly looking claws the hand ended in that much more threatening. It was built like a bear trap, deadly points on clear display, just like the smile he gives you. His other hand is still gripped tight around Puck's collar, keeping the terrified-looking scientist pinned up against the fish tank. At least it's not broken. It becomes instantly clear to you why you spotted a flash of gold earlier, both Raijin's earrings and canines, sharp and poised, were coated in the shining color, the gaudy display only making you all the more uncomfortable with this position. His eyes flash as he glances between you and Puck, and the man above you snatches the knife out of your grip, sending it scattering somewhere across the ground. “Found $himher with this.” The other man mentions, suddenly using his free hand to wrestle the device out of your hand. You try and pull back for a moment, but you are unceremoniously shoved right back to the ground, wheezing in the process as your shoulder burns. Shows you to try fighting a shifter without a weapon. [[“Please- we can talk about this!”|kind lab puck help][$kind to Math.clamp($kind +10, 0, 100)]] [[“That’s not yours!”|agg lab puck help][$kind to Math.clamp($kind -10, 0, 100)]]

“Please- we can talk about this!” You manage out between harsh breaths, pushing up again as you try scrambling out. Maybe you don’t have to fight. There’s been plenty enough misunderstandings, this didn’t have to be another one. You lift a hand in a peace-making gesture, only for Raijin to tilt his head at the attempt, scoffing a little as his confusion turns to amusement. He drops Puck casually, the scientist collapsing into a heap against the ground, coat hitching slightly as they slide to the floor, still seated up. They're looking at you with wide eyes, desperately searching your face for something. Most likely, a plan. You hate to disappoint. Raijin crouches down, getting a little too close for your comfort, and your eyes flick down an inch as you spot a ragged scar, an old thing, splitting around his throat nestled between the stubble leftover on his neck. He flicks your forehead, and you <<if $kind < 50>>snap at him, narrowly missing his finger as he draws it back with a laugh.<<else>> flinch back, struck by how casually he’s going about all of this.<</if>> “Now the scientist I understand, but why are //you// here?” The large man asks, squinting a bit. You close your mouth, swallowing hard as you realize answering this particular question might land you in hot water. Well… hotter water than you’re already in. Seems like you don’t need to answer though, as Raijin stands, hands on his hips, humming as if he’s made up his mind about something. “Maddox, bring $himher up to the front. Could be useful to have a little something in our back pocket.” He says with a decisive nod. You freeze up. Did he-? No way. No- this can’t actually be happening. The man still holding you down, Maddox, raises his head, squinting at his boss as if he can’t believe what he’s just said. You hope it’s just a nightmare. “Boss, you can’t be serious. The Institute is-“ “Cmon’ then! Up and attem’! Make sure the bonds are tight, can’t have another situation like that Firespitter.” You let out a yelp as Maddox lets out a huff and suddenly yanks you up, someone else grabbing your arms from behind as rough rope is tried harshly across your wrists. Your panic kicks in as you realize that there’s more people in this room, more opportunities to get hurt, and more to lose here. You try pulling out, shoving in, anything to escape the hold you suddenly find yourself in. There’s two for certain, now possibly three people. Were there more before? Are there more now? Your senses feel like they blur together, your rationality narrowing as does your vision. You’re practically defenseless like this, collar tight around your throat and knife scattered to who knows where. [[Next|lab break in end]]

“That’s not yours!” You shout, trusting your voice to carry the venom you want it to. You try thrashing in the hold again as you do, baring your teeth at Raijin, though you’re sure your attempts to be threatening don’t get you much of anywhere as the man grins with a tilt of his head, staring down at you like you were some kind of animal. He drops Puck casually, the scientist collapsing into a heap against the ground, coat hitching slightly as they slide to the floor, still seated up. They're looking at you with wide eyes, desperately searching your face for something. Most likely, a plan. You hate to disappoint. Raijin crouches down, getting a little too close for your comfort, and your eyes flick down an inch as you spot a ragged scar, an old thing, splitting around his throat nestled between the stubble leftover on his neck. He flicks your forehead, and you <<if $kind < 50>>snap at him, narrowly missing his finger as he draws it back with a laugh.<<else>> flinch back, struck by how casually he’s going about all of this.<</if>> “Now the scientist I understand, but why are //you// here?” The large man asks, squinting a bit. You close your mouth, swallowing hard as you realize answering this particular question might land you in hot water. Well… hotter water than you’re already in. Seems like you don’t need to answer though, as Raijin stands, hands on his hips, humming as if he’s made up his mind about something. “Maddox, bring $himher up to the front. Could be useful to have a little something in our back pocket.” He says with a decisive nod. You freeze up. Did he-? No way. No- this can’t actually be happening. The man still holding you down, Maddox, raises his head, squinting at his boss as if he can’t believe what he’s just said. You hope it’s just a nightmare. “Boss, you can’t be serious. The Institute is-“ “Cmon’ then! Up and attem’! Make sure the bonds are tight, can’t have another situation like that Firespitter.” You let out a yelp as Maddox lets out a huff and suddenly yanks you up, someone else grabbing your arms from behind as rough rope is tried harshly across your wrists. Your panic kicks in as you realize that there’s more people in this room, more opportunities to get hurt, and more to lose here. You try pulling out, shoving in, anything to escape the hold you suddenly find yourself in. There’s two for certain, now possibly three people. Were there more before? Are there more now? Your senses feel like they blur together, your rationality narrowing as does your vision. You’re practically defenseless like this, collar tight around your throat and knife scattered to who knows where. [[Next|lab break in end]]

The man pinning you down is not as large as you suspected he’d be. It’s the first thought that flashes across your mind but as you try and pull your arms out of his grasp, his grip tightens and you are convinced he is much stronger than he looks. He’s not short by any means, but your head is spinning and your ears are ringing and his eyes, one brown and one stark blue, are glaring down at you with an all-business look. It’s hard to really put the thoughts into proper order, but you do try. “Chief, there’s someone else here.” He says, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. Your eyes widen as you realize the gravity of the situation, and you try to thrash away, unable to shift or do anything to defend yourself. The man’s grip only tightens, his features twitching into a frown but otherwise not changing despite your struggles. What the //hell// this guy was strong. <<if $stgadd > 50>>It was honestly a little startling, especially given your own strength.<</if>> As you resist however, you spot the man’s pupils pull back into slits, an exasperated breath leaving you as you realize what’s going on. Dragon-shifter. Go figure. You hear a shuffling from behind you and a pained groan from Puck. You need to do something. [[“Take me out to dinner first, why dontcha’?”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine -10, 0, 100)]] [[“Let me go!”][$genuine to Math.clamp($genuine +10, 0, 100)]]

“No. He never gave me one.” You reply, your voice edging on a growl as you wrinkle your nose. You don’t even want to entertain that idea, not even with this new information. You try your best not to get too angry, but even the reality of things makes your hands shake a little. //Atlas// should be apologizing, not Puck, who seems a little too sympathetic for your liking. You set your jaw and watch Puck, waiting for an argument. But you just watch their eyes soften, defeated, before they nod and let out a small sigh. Good. You don’t want this issue to be pressed right now, not as the wound is still raw and festering. Ugh. You need to take a second to stop the feeling of your skin crawling. You don’t like imagining that man with a conscious. Makes what he’s doing all the more cruel. Puck leans back up, giving the fish one more look, then tap the counter a bit with their knuckles. “Well, I’ve got the papers together. I’ll text the Reese and Atlas back, then we should be good.” [[Next|monitor start]]