ladiesss | PERSONAL COMM

[she shows up because someone let her in. I don't know who. it just happened. she's got a backpack and she brought a couple of pillows. HELLO, BUNDLE TEK.]

[yeah, that human-sized lump of blankets on top of all of the other blankets in the corner is him. there are some blackish stains on the floor around his pathetic excuse for a nest, and the whole cargo bay smells like old blood and fried magic. a little like copper, meat, and ozone.

and he doesn't budge when she comes in. he's supposedly alive, but it doesn't look like the tales of the slain dragon were entirely unrelated.]

[creepy. she knows from experience that the creepy thing in the corner is probably him... but it's a little disturbing to walk so close to it and only feel a little bit of Tek, even when she comes to stand right next to him.]

...Hey, Tek...?

[she tries to get a better look at the bundle... her hugging the pillows is definitely just because they're easier to carry that way, and not because she's nervous. definitely not. ha ha. that would be silly.]

[the bundle slowly rolls over so that it's not so face-down in the blankets anymore, eyeing her with the deadest look in the land.

and looking like he does, it's understandable why. his face is all wrong--both too monstrous and too delicate--and the rest of him has this sickly, malformed cast to it that she's never seen in him before.

he's a mess.]

Ooookay.

[well, that's... Tek, in whatever form he's in now. it's really creepy. she can't help thinking that he looks kind of like a larva, or... something. her research on dragons hasn't exactly given her any hints about the "creepy baby bug" stage of... this...

she crouches down next to him, though, dropping her bag on the floor. she reaches over him to put the pillows down on the other side of his head. they seem especially comfortable and appealing. she pulls a blanket out of her bag, next, and puts that down by her feet.]

I think I got you some good stuff. I had a couple of things laying around from that party we went to, so...

[she picks out some jewelry, next. plucks up a couple of rings, coins, and a thin chain of bracelet from the bottom of her bag. she holds one up in a loose fist over his face.]

Come on, open up.

[he silently gazes on with what seems like total apathy, until she finally gives him an order.

and instead of obeying, he shifts around until he can slide a hand free of his blanket-shroud, and reaches out for her offerings.

and in doing so, makes it even clearer the sort of state he's in. his skin doesn't look entirely living or solid, and seems to be... less than perfectly intact in a few places. not exactly rotting or peeling, but his form still has a way to go before it has fully assimilated and replaced the makeshift frame it's been built on.]

Oh... Or you could do that, sure.

[she surrenders the trinkets. drops them in his hand without a fight. it's not entirely on her own that her fingers are suddenly looking kind of spidery and her hair is suddenly a mess. and she's suddenly got a lot more dress bundled up around her feet.

even with her weird little eyes, she looks... concerned.]

Are you going to be okay?

[he glances up to watch her eerie transformation for a moment, while clicking the trinkets together in his hand. considering her, considering the feel of the bits of metal and glass against his palm, considering her question.]

...Eventually.

[even his voice is wrong. it's tired, rough, and also far too light--caught somewhere right between the two voices she normally hears.

and he carefully pops an enchanted coin into his mouth.]

[she huffs, relieved. at this point, his weird voice was pretty expected. she gathers up her dress so that she can sit on it... only realizing about halfway through that this isn't normal and that she's not wearing what she was wearing a second ago.]

Oh.

[...but a quick glance at the door assures her that she's not going to get in trouble, so she... makes herself comfy anyway.]

So... What happened?

[the glance toward the door prompts him to check that his hood is nice and tugged forward into place, as if he were draped in the folds of a mysterious robe instead of blankets.

and he continues to slowly rattle the trinkets back and forth in his hand--eyeing an earring but not committing to it yet.]

What have you heard?

Really not much. [she frowns, folding her long spider-hands neatly in her lap.] The only public thing I've found is that a group of people killed a dragon. No one's talking why or who or... anything.

They haven't said anything about it.

[--just verifying, and of course not sounding heavy and bitter about it at all. no sir. and he eats his feelings--finally feeding the ring into his mouth while he quietly glowers down at nothing.]

I suppose I should be grateful that they haven't gone bragging to the whole world about it. Such humble heroes.

Tek...

[her small, lidless eyes blink. which is subtly unsettling. she doesn't know if Tek deserved it, or if it was unwarranted, or if the whole thing was a complete mess--and she can't even begin guessing until he talks about it.]

How did it start? Why did you... take your bigger form to begin with?

I had to. I'd waited too long.

[and he hopes she remembers how that goes, because he doesn't feel like using more words than he has to.]

The barrier only lets you go a mile out.

[she has the gist of it, at least. her round eyes get a little wider.]

That's right... So you couldn't go anywhere, there was the big burst of energy, and then... Ugh, of course, everyone who would notice decides it's time to go fight the dragon that's showed up in the medieval town.

[he nods. and maybe the subject is ruining his appetite, because he makes a divot in the surrounding blankets to safely deposit his handful of trinkets into, and puts them down. the dragon equivalent of pushing away his plate.]

[she's pretty mad. this is so typical. this is exactly what would have happened at home, too.]

So who was it? Do you know them...?

[and he nods again. yeah, he knows them.

but she's going to have to wait a moment if she wants further explanation.

with as much tact as he can manage, he carefully elbows himself forward and leans as far as he can over the edge of the blanket pile--well away from his visitor--and proceeds to lethargically retch up a few mouthfuls of black.

and somewhere in there, two small metallic objects clatter onto the wet floor.]

Oh...

[this seems to be a recurring reaction, for her... she watches him retch up more of that black gunk that's on the floor, scrunching her face up in mild disgust. at least she sounds genuinely sympathetic when she says...]

Sorry... That sucks...

[it smells kind of like blood and acid. it's not great.

and he just stays slumped on the edge of the blanket pile for a minute or so, either waiting to make sure that his stomach (what there is of it) is settled, or just too tired to drag himself back to where he was before.

he'll be better in a minute, probably.]

[...after an awkward pause, she reaches over him, picks up one of the nice, glamour-infused pillows, and puts it down about where he had been resting previously.

you know. to help. there you go, buddy.]

[oh man... and when he finally retreats back to the center of his nest-pile, he utters a little animal-noise of surprise. the normal thing would be to ask about the enchanted pillow there, or even arrange it like a human would... but he just kind of shoves into it, slowly drapes over, and curls up on it. he can't really feel comfortable in this state, but he's definitely closer than he was before.

he groans a little, and gets settled with a sigh.

what were they even talking about again?]

There you go...

[she reaches down to... pat his hair, a little. or maybe the blanket covering his hair. whatever's closer.]

So... Who was it?

[he glances up with one of those weak, conflicted prickly looks that means he can't decide whether he's insulted that she's pitying him, or just wanting to selfishly soak up the attention. he doesn't have the energy he normally does for ego, though. and the question is a good distraction anyway.]

Oh, you know. [his lighter, sickened voice goes well with the sarcasm.] Crewmates of mine. And a necromancer, an elf who's killed someone I know, and some of their friends.

[of course he can't just tell her. she's pretty sure she's been in easier interrogations. so she goes back to sitting quietly and thinking through all the people she knows. Fenris is the only elf who's killed someone publicly. who's friends with Fenris? Jove, who is on Tek's ship. the necromancer...

following that logic, it must be... oh, please don't be Dorian. please don't be Dorian.]

What did the necromancer look like?

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