tushanshu_logs | I am flesh and I am bone

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I am flesh and I am bone | April Catchall

Characters: Pepper Potts, Devin Parker, and you!
Date: Throughout April
Location: Jade Dojo, Sky Sector, all over Keeliai.
Situation: Pepper's living her life, and Devin is getting dumped into Keeliai a little maimed.
Warnings/Rating: Possible mention of murder and probably blood, specific warnings in headers.

A. [Pepper] Jade Dojo | Backdated to end of March | Heather

As promised, Pepper got up early and made her way to the dojo at a time that was unusual for her. She normally trained in the afternoons, so this was a big change of pace. There was no guarantee that she and Heather would make good partners, but it would be interesting to try. It would also give her a chance to get a read on Heather, since Pepper hadn't interacted with her much before now. She hung up her jacket and pulled a set of long, thin cloth wraps and began to circle them around her hands; once they were secured, Pepper began to warm up, keeping an eye out for Heather's arrival.

B. [Pepper] House Spicy Iron Dragon | Early April | Gene

The weather is getting almost reasonable, and on one of the days where it's a bit sunnier, Pepper goes out into the backyard and does some practice summoning. She's getting better at it, and higher level monsters are slowly getting easier to summon, but she still has pretty strict limits. That doesn't diminish her determination - if anything, it makes her push harder. Vee is there, too, standing off to the side with less armor on, observing. Pepper will occasionally speak to her like her ka has said something, although the creature's lips never move.

C. [Pepper] KPD | Throughout April | Open

The new Guild system has definitely stirred things up in the city, and there's a rash of thefts hitting Foreigners that suggests it's systematic. The destruction of the spirit houses is also concerning, although fortunately it doesn't seem to be escalating badly. Pepper is pretty busy, spending a lot of time out on patrols and talking with kedan as well as Foreigners to see if they have any information. Busy or not, she's in a good mood most of the time if anyone bumps into her.

D. [Devin; CW: burns, possibly blood] Healer's Guild | April 5 | Raine

The ground is a lot smoother than he expects. There's a ringing in his ears and he can tell he’d be dead if he hadn’t known what was coming. As it is, his back is charred from the explosion. It was a small price to pay for getting the hunters and the dossier out. He can feel them start to heal, but his wounds must be worse than he thought – someone is saying something, putting a hand on his shoulder and Devin can only lay there, stunned. The person sounds worried, and Devin tries to tell them he'll be fine, to leave him here. To run. It doesn't come out particularly coherently.

Whoever it is doesn't listen, and two sets of strong arms are lifting him off the ground to a standing position, which he couldn’t have managed himself. This is bad, that he can't orient himself properly or see straight. At some point, he must have lost consciousness, because next he opens his eyes he's being led into a building and there's a flurry of activity that ends with him face-down on a gurney.

"I can't stay here," Devin mutters, trying to get out of the bed, but the hands keep pushing him back down. Devin is stronger, though, and he stumbles vertical again, searching for a door. "I don't need your help."

E. [Devin; CW: blood] Thoughout Keeliai | Throughout April | Open

As soon as Devin is fully recovered, he gets out into the city. The situation has him on edge, the fact that his agency has been violated again setting a semi-permanent frown on his face. Devin is familiar with a few different planes of existence, so the idea of Keeliai isn't something he outright rejects. After a week or two, he accepts that he's stuck. From what Devin can tell, he's the only one of his kind here.

That should have been something of a relief, Devin reflects, but it also meant that he's adrift without purpose. What is he supposed to do with himself? Almost all of his energy back home had been spent hunting. Devin can't remember the last time he took a vacation.

Long story short, Devin is not in a good mood most of the month, somewhere between lost and agitated. He does need to find a way to live, though, so when he's not at the Hotel (which he hopes he won't have to stay at for an extended time) he's wandering around and observing, taking in every detail he can, and looking for a niche to fit in.

F. [Devin] Turtle's Head | Mid April | Open

The rumors of the serenity of being near Tu Vishan's beak are appealing amidst the turmoil of Devin's arrival and the impending problem of finding a food source has him troubled enough that he hikes out there one day. The sight of it, actually getting confirmation of what it is he'd standing on, is grounding and the calming influence of a being so much greater than him is familiar in a way. At least this trip doesn't come with a migraine. He spends a few hours there, mostly standing at the shell's edge and staring out at the sea, thinking through his options.

(OOC: Let me know if you want a specific starter or feel free to write your own adventure!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Valdis." He said the name as though he were testing the way it sounded.

His expression turned stony at her question, and Devin looked back beyond the shell once more. When he spoke, his tone remained neutral.

"Why does it matter to you?"

Oh, so he was a moody, mostly dead person, lovely. Valdis slowly stood up, stretching her arms above her head as if trying to loosen up after sitting down for so long. She took a deep breath and then crossed her arms, staring out over the water.

"In my experience, people who feel lost and agitated usually end up doing something stupid and I'd prefer to head off a potential problem before that happens. Also, I really hate paperwork..."

Her reply was better received than something more saccharine might have been. It was a logical concern, and one he was familiar with. Since Valdis hadn't been turned off by his lack of a pulse, she clearly had some experience with deathless individuals, or simply enough experience with the supernatural not to be phased.

And he did need to solve this conundrum.

"Believe me, I have the same concerns," he groused, and then sighed. "I've been told the spell that brings us here was meant to draw warriors in order to fight some terrible evil. While I might have been a decent selection at one time, I'm now more of a burden to the people here than any kind of boon. My skills are useless," Devin explained. "And my being dead carries with it some complications, namely that I have to feed on others to survive."

"Ah, yes," Valdis replied, sounding slightly bored, "Malicant, the world devouring demon. He left quite a mess behind, and his followers have been far too quiet for my liking."

She paused as the last part of his answer sunk in. He had to feed on others to survive, that was...not different, per say, but most definitely a problem. Dead. Needed to feed on others. Soulless, (although technically still had one, somewhere).

"Like a vampire?"

Though now that she said it, she was pretty sure it didn't need answering. Valdis shook her head, the Dreaming was all sorts of fun these days.

"That is a problem...isn't it."

"Exactly like, since that's what I am," Devin returned, utterly uncaring that she knew. It wasn't as though he tried to hide the fact. "Before you get your hackles up, I do not have to kill to meet my needs. But yes, it's a problem. Your observational skills are stellar."

One of the challenges of going some time without blood was that Devin had a tendency to get edgy, but this was him just being intentionally snarky. The display was so natural he hardly had to think about it.

Followers, however, intrigued him. "Power is seductive in the worst way. Are there many of these underlings running around still?"

"My observational skills are beyond your imagination," Valdis replied, her tone flat, but lacking offense.

She lifted her chin, "I don't know their numbers, but enough to cause problems. They like to use children to run messages. Invest their money in drugs and spend their time trying to bring their dead god back to life. A waste of time, we'll just kill him again if they succeed..."

Not that it had been easy the first time.

"Beyond my imagination isn't hard. I only use it for designing tactical plans," he countered. "And stating the obvious doesn't require even my paltry sense of vision."

Devin's gaze narrowed at her explanation, though more in thought than suspicion. He still wasn't looking at her. "If they've managed to escape your well-trained eye, they must be truly treacherous."

This he did mean with some seriousness, as a group of cultists present around the city was a real problem, and one Valdis had apparently taken on as a focus of hers. And she'd demonstrated knowledge of his soul, so she wasn't without the skills she claimed. Irritating her was simply his usual method of interaction. "Is there actually a possibility that they could succeed?"

"Sounds like you need some art classes to develop that lack of imagination," Valdis countered, "But a tactical mind could be useful..."

She shifted her gaze to look at him, perfectly aware that his words were most likely meant to irritate her, but it was more amusing than anything else.

"One of my best detectives is looking into that particular aspect, but I certainly hope not. Killing him the first time wasn't exactly easy."

"I somehow doubt a few sessions in watercolors will do my imagination any good. I don't have time to be producing mediocre works, in any case," Devin returned. He could appreciate some art, though his eye for the aesthetic was limited, too. None of that would help with his supply problem - painting wouldn't get him blood.

"One of your detectives? So you run the police force, do you?" It wasn't that big of a leap. "Killing demons and gods isn't meant to be easy."

"There are other kinds of art," Valdis replied, a sly grin on her face, "Dance. Writing. Battle. And yes, I run the police force."

Her smile faded slightly at the mention of killing gods.

"Not so hard if you know how..."

"I know how to dance, only because it was required that I learn," he said, not convinced this had anything to do with art or imagination. Devin certainly had never danced for fun. "I have to wonder what it says about you that you consider battle to be artful." This did actually sound like bland curiosity, rather than reproach.

He turned again at her last, not suspicious so much as intrigued. "And is this knowledge you carry? That must make you quite the popular figure where you come from, if that's the case."

Popular in the way Devin was popular: as a target.

"Battle requires a similar finesse and skill as dance does," Valdis countered, "Two well trained opponents locked in battle can be just as beautiful as any art piece. Any master at work is beautiful to watch. Why do you think that mortals enjoy it so much?"

She watched him with renewed interest when he looked at her.

"I don't know how to kill God," She replied, "Though that doesn't necessarily matter to my enemies."

"Because fighting has been a part of our biology far longer than art," Devin said, mostly to be argumentative. "I don't find beauty in actual battle. Sparring is a different matter; in battle, I have only one goal." Namely killing his opponent, in the quickest way possible.

He and Valdis seemed to have some things in common, although this did not endear her to him.

"What is it that does matter to them?"

"A spar is simply a battle without the risk of death, and since none of them are here, what matters to my enemies isn't of any importance."

And it never would be, not in Keeliai.

"But enough about that," She continued, "What are you going to do about the need for blood?"

They could argue pedantics until the sun went down, but it would be pointless.

"I haven't decided yet," Devin informed her, looking away again. "It's been quite a few years since I've had blood from the vein, and I'd prefer to maintain that record. This place isn't well-equipped for long-term storage, either, which is a problem on it's own." He grimaced. "The most logical option seems to be to ask for volunteers."

"Which is a whole other problem..."

The kedan might not look favorably on a foreigner who needed to drink blood to survive.

"How long can you go between feedings and does the blood have to be human?"

There were many conundrums to be resolved, yes.

"A month at most. You don't want to see what happens then," Devin answered, folding his arms across his chest. "Every two weeks is the preferable minimum. And yes, it needs to be human. Animal blood doesn't suffice. Humanoid might be enough, but I haven't had the chance to test kedan blood. I don't see why it wouldn't work, however."

"I'll take your word for it."

Best to solve the problem before they reached critical then.

"How much do you need per feeding?"

She assumed he wouldn't have to drain someone, he didn't like drinking blood, so he probably didn't like killing his food either.

This was not an enjoyable discussion in the slightest, now that they were solely talking about his feeding habits. Devin hated everything about this.

"Two pints, usually, unless I've been injured or expect to be," he said tersely. Strictly speaking, that was the bare minimum he'd calculated he could survive on, not what he needed, but Valdis didn't have to know that. "Although it seems there are enough healers in the city that severe injuries can be dealt with through other means."

"That is true, we have very good healers."

Valdis could sense his irritation, even if it wasn't completely evident on his face.

"That's quite a bit of blood, not many can afford to donate that much to you, even if it's every two weeks."

Though she was beginning to suspect that Devin had some less-than healthy habits when it came to caring for himself.

"Are more frequent, but smaller feeding possible?"

"I'm aware that being a parasite and a predator presents some problems for my only legitimate food source," Devin said bitterly. It was a biological need, but he would give quite a lot to never drink blood again.

He considered her question, closing his eye for a moment and sighing. "Possible, yes; preferable, no, but my options are somewhat more limited here." Devin laughed, a single mirthless sound. "Beggars can't be choosers, can they? Whatever works, it's better than hurting people."

"Oh, please," Valdis scoffed, crossing her arms and cocking a hip, "It's not like I have a care and feeding guide for Vampires handy, so cut the self pity, it's not useful to anyone."

She rolled her eyes,"I'm not human, but I'm probably the only one here who can stand to lose two pints of blood at once without any ill affects. So it's not that there isn't a choice, I was simply trying to come up with options."

Devin's eyes narrowed. "You do not know me and have no right to judge me," he said coldly. "Inflicting damage on others is a function of my being; I see no reason not to be displeased by that fact."

Not human. Intriguing. It wasn't obvious from the outside, and even his enhanced senses wouldn't pick up on any red flags in that regard. And it sounded like she was offering assistance.

"I suppose it would give you the chance to keep tabs on me as well, ensure I don't become a further danger to the people you protect," Devin continued, his tone more measured now. "What are you, if not human?"

That could actually be important. He'd never had to try other species' blood, and there was no way to know if he'd have an adverse reaction.

"I may not have the right to judge you," Valdis replied evenly, "But I'm judging you anyway. You aren't the only monster here and wallowing in self hatred isn't going to change anything."

Though the words were harsh, her tone was more matter of fact than anything else. Valdis knew he probably wouldn't believe her, he'd need to figure it out himself, but at least when he finally did, she could tell him 'I told you so.'

"That's a very complicated question," She said, but if he was going to be drinking her blood, she supposed it was a justified one, "The proper title for my species is Hellhound, but my soul is that of an angel and I suppose my base biology would be angelic as well," she paused, "That's not something I usually go around telling people. Most think I'm simply a shapeshifter and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

The latter part of her reply was far more interesting than the former, for which he could tell they would only butt heads on repeatedly. His utter revulsion for what he was couldn't be lifted by a single sharp remark, and in any case he didn't see how enjoying what he was would solve anything, either. The middle ground didn't appeal.

That wasn't pertinent any longer, however. What she had said resonated with him in a way he didn't like at all, sent cold shivers down his spine before he could rein the reaction in.

"The soul of an angel," he repeated quietly. What are the odds? Without even moving, his entire demeanor had shifted from defensive to attentive. "I can understand why you'd desire that remain secret." He knew the consequences.

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