Log: Complete

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

When; Nov. 8th

Rating; PG-13 for language

Characters; silkcutremix John Constantine, wisdom_rcvr Henry Townshend, noh_dancer Scarab

Summary; Henry & Scarab are sent to pick up another piece person (or rather dog) for Xulchilbara. ( Another log that started as an AIM one, terribly sorry >_9 )

Log;



John had lost track of time, wondering if he would ever adjust to the smell of shit. It was in both stale and fresh, in and out of his pen, around his pen, far from his pen, in the air as dust or on the tiny feet of the many flies.
He smelled worms, sickness and death. The dog next to him was a miserable thing, with sharp ribs and hardly able to stand. Her feet were bloody from the painful mesh and teats swollen, bred to death.
She would glance at him every now and then as she paced, either out of boredom, madness or to ease the pain of her feet, but it was an empty gaze sectioned by more wire.
from Hell, from anywhere, provided he had only his fingers and a voice. His favorite door charm was useless.

-

The tiny links on her new metal-and-chain mask made a sort of tinkling sound as she walked.
It was almost ironic that for each change, each rebirth in her sense of self, she was always givena new mask to go along with it.
This one was so far removed in style and function that it still felt odd to wear. She liked it, though. It suited her new role.

She was in 'work mode' as they walked through the underworld,keeping one hand rested on the hilt of the sword at her side.
Sure, she would be going for the gun should someone try and jump herself, or her charge, but the sword was far more visible, and drawing attention to it first was always better if you were going tobe attacked.

Henry seemed to know where he was going, but other than knowing she had to keep him safe and out of trouble, she was a little unclear on why she had been pulled off seeing-eye-person duty to follow Henry around.

They were walking down a side-street now, and the voices..the whining, bleating voices of those who called out to her Lord and his tender mercies was grating on her nerves.
Between the mental static, and now; the smell of animal shit, she was fast losing her good humor.

Are we there? Is this the place? she asked Henry through the connection thier shared marks provided. ...She had been uncomfortable 'speaking' without actually speaking at first...now it was becoming almost a habit.

-

Henry's face had been expressionless most of the way there. Every once in awhile, a twitch of anger or annoyance came to his eyes.
He'd only had one mask during his life, and only know was it getting difficult to wear- especially considering this recent business with Vincent and the Corinthian. But they were going to make that right quite soon.
This is the place, Henry replied. Even his thoughts were quiet, subdued. We need to get an animal out of here. A white wolf.
He didn't mind talking this way, and with time he would probably prefer it. But right now he was still unused to it, and as such had to think about it rather than just speaking.
Here, though, it would be best to stay quiet...as quiet as possible.
The surroundings were disgusting, almost as disgusting as the man nearest to them right now. Henry had gotten a handle on most of the voices, but sometimes they were louder than others.
He was simultaneously thankful for Scarab being there and ashamed that he needed her help.
Thank you for coming with me. Now we need to find the horrible creature that owns this place. Hopefully this won't take too long. He looked around for someone to talk to.

-

The digusting man appeared exhausted, a greasy old cunt with a cigarette in his dark fingers and overalls caked with various filth.
He was standing outside of a warehouse behind the invisible veil of shit that permeated the place with a heavy overwhelming pall.
He was more than likely an employee here, on his smoking break just outside of the building where the smell was lessened.
The walls had also somewhat softened the perpetual cacophony of the barking dogs, hundreds and hundreds of dogs.
Didn't seem to notice the two either, accepting them as just passersby, although it was suspicious; no one came down here.

-

Scarab was heartily wishing for the air filters her Noh mask had provided, but at the same time she was noticing other things beyond the wall of dog shit smell; like cigarette smoke, unwashed man, and a scent that couldn't really be explained. Sour, and slightly....sad?
Don't worry about it, Henry. I'd rather come with on a somewhat smelly walk, than have something happen to you too.
The guilt over Vincent's injury was completly irrational, but it was something she and Teacher shared....must be a 'Sentinel' thing?

She frowned at the warehouse doors...and nodded toward the smoking man., before taking a step closer to Henry.
Be careful....I don't think this guy gets many visitors.

-

I think you're right, Henry agreed. He stepped forward, looking a little flustered.
It's good that this man was an employee- maybe he'd be more inclined to let them take an individual dog from them.
Henry also hoped that this act was going to work, because he couldn't handle acting smooth and charming yet. It just wasn't something that would be capable without a lot of practice.
So he asked timidly, "Uh...excuse me? Sir? Sorry to bother you, but we had heard- well, things. We've been looking for a specific type of animal- we need it, you see...very important."
"And we were told to come here. If you have what we're looking for, we'll make it worth your while..."

If this doesn't work, you can act like I messed it all up- which might be true- and give him a different story. In this sort of weird mind-talk, Henry sounds both amused and nervous.

Of course, if THAT didn't work, then there were other options...

-

The Greaseball looked up, more handsome (the term used loosely) looking down at the dark, cracked pavement.
He studied the two for a bit, well adjusted to the characters here, then his brow furrowed. Not a regular, he decided. His eyes were beady.
"Never seen you 'round here before," he grunted, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette.
The Adam's apple on his thin, thin neck bobbed as he talked. "Aw, fuckit. New customers never hurt anyone. Come 'n' go, yeh."

"Whatcha' lookin' fer? A start in the ring? If ya' wanna pet fer Little Timmy ta' play wit', ya' come to th' wrong place."
Didn't matter if a dog happened to belong to that said Little Timmy; they all wasted away the same until some fuck came along and took them somewhere worse. Dogs here never came back home.

-

Close enough now, Scarab smiled slightly, and lay a hand on the side of his arm.
I got this covered....Just follow my lead she said, and let her 'game face' fall back into place; expressionless, emotionless eyes.

" We want something a little less sturdy than what we got. Something the pitbull can sink it's teeth into"
She took the lead after Henry, following the grease ball into the dingy warehouse.

So many cages....Lines of kennels with some of the most disgusting and depressing excuses for dogs she had ever seen greeted her.
While this wasn't quite on par with mass-murder of human beings...she still had to resist the urge to just slug the 'keeper', throw him in one of these cages, and let all the dogs out.
....Justice later, though, they had a job to do.

" Got shepherds? Maybe a husky or something in here?" she asked, feigning disinterest in the rest of the sad eyes and sick smells of these poor forgotten creatures.

-

Henry was focused on keeping his face expressionless. A few angry words leaked out of his head and towards Scarab as they passed cage after cage of almost dead dogs.
He would like to see this place burning.
"I don't know...maybe bigger than that, if that's possible?" he asked cautiously.
He adjusted his collar while he walked- it made for a good excuse to not look towards the man who was leading him.

-

Comments

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

"You werkin' fer a lab? Those're lab animals," he grunted, not really caring anyway. What he did care about was keeping those stupid undercover do-gooders, PETA creeps or whatever out. Anything that'll stop the business and force him to another part of the Underworld. Oh yeah, boss'll have his head too, but he wasn't sure which was worse. No shortage of menial tasks, but no shortage of ways to die. Handling stupid dogs in shit up to his knees was the most mundane thing to do, and thus the safest.

They walked down the line. The beady eyes of Greaseball glimmered as he squinted again to study the two. "So how's this pita' yers? Fight'em already or still 'n trainin'?"

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

" Still training", she answered the grease ball.
" He does alright on the 'Jenny' if we give him something bigger to work with....We tried cats at first, but he just kind of ignored them."

She shrugged, as though talking about using smaller animals as bait to make a fighting dog more aggressive were the most natural thing inthe world.
"He hates other males...so we figured giving a larger male in a muzzle to him, and see how that goes.
If nothing else, it'll teach him to be more careful of his opponent."

Scarab had lived most of her life moving in and out the varying illegal underworlds where anything, and everything went as long as it made money.
True she wasn't any kind of expert on dog fighting, but if they were lucky, the bullshit wouldn't smell any worse than what they were already wading through.

Help me out here, Henry...I don't see any white wolves in this place. she 'said' with a quick glance at the man walking behind her, "And I don't know how much longer I can resist cutting this fucker and throwing him in with a pack of pissed off dogs.

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

Hold on the best you can. We'll cut him as soon as we know where the wolf is, he reassured Scarab. We just need him to find it for us. I doubt the wolf is white anymore.

"Actually..." Henry said to the worker. "I'd personally like something we could use, in case he doesn't work out. His training's going awfully slow, you see. If we could get our hands on something really wild, like a wolf or coyote- that'd be just perfect."

He smiled at the guy, and it was completely mirthless. But that's what was expected in this place, isn't it? "If you had something like that, we'd be really...terribly grateful for you getting it for us." He hoped that came out sleazy enough for the worker to infer money was involved.

Just a little longer, my friend Dragon. Be patient.

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

If Greaseball had known anything about wolves, or even coyotes for that matter, he would have picked up on the shit immediately, a wolf having a tendency to avoid confrontation and pain by running away, rather than fighting. Of course, he fell in the bloated group of wolf admirers in regards to its supposed ruthless ferocity.

"Oh, we might have somethin' then that might suit your fancy."

That bastard animal came in the other day, a real angel they told him in regards to its capture, the old brute lumbering up to one of them and licking the bait right out of her hand, but Greaseball knew better. He only had to take a brief glance at those haunting blue eyes to know that bad things happened around the monster. Besides, it was natural to be intimidated by something many times smarter, and the both of them knew it. Too bad it might cost a pit or three to snuff it but if they knew any better, they'd shoot the thing.

Greaseball approached the pen and the devil dog looked up with that unnatural hatred in its eyes. Hell, just the single sparking hatefulness was unnerving enough. It wasn't the same look as that given by a growling dog or a frightened one shivering in the corner; it was foreign, deep. Too human; it understood.

"How 'bout this?" A dirty hand gestured. "Fella's clean too. Just came in a few days ago."

He did not notice the change in the animal's gaze when it shifted its glance over to Scarab, a filthy tail twitching with the only warmth of happiness it felt all week.

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

Scarab's eyes widened and she couldn't help her lips parting in a rare slip of her 'game face' in utter shock.
John! John as he had been when that cunt had cursed him!

For years Scarab had been the epitome of cold ruthlessness at doing her job. She killed, but felt nothing while doing so...just dead and empty inside.
...Since being marked, that had started to change. It was subtle at first; slips in temper that could be chalked up to stress or irritation.
But as time went on, and especially after being marked by her Lord, it was becoming harder and harder not to be ruled by her temper.

She didn't even bother to ask Henry if this was who they were looking for...It just was, and this disgusting, greasy, ham-handed, fuck had been keeping her friend locked up. Caged like some kind of...well..animal.
There was no sense to the anger, and no rationalizing with the rage that turned the world red.

Viper-quick, her hand closed around the hilt of the sword at her hip, and between one breath and the next, she had moved. It was fast....far too fast for what even her peak speed had been before.

So fast perhaps, that the greaseball might not even register her smaller hand taking hold of his nasty hair, or what was happening when she jammed a hard boot into his knee to force it to bend at the wrong angle.

He noticed the blade....after it was coated with his blood. After it was damn near shoved to the hilt through first his spine, then to protrude from his throat out the other side.

Guilty!

The red haze was now physically receeding...but red still danced beofre her eyes....

A noise...there was barking...and she couldn't place it?
Almost like coming out of a daze, she blinked...then took a deep shuddering breath ( and regretted it.) and almost threw the corpse away from herself.
There was arterial spray painting her mask...her hands...but she didn't feel any kind of disgust at it.

She blinked again, and looked down at John, then dropped to kneel before the cage.
The last time she had seen him like this, they had been able to communicate in a similar means to the way she communicated with the others who carried Xulchilbara's mark.
She squinted through the mesh and concentrated...it wasn't as difficult to do this with the others?

John..
hear me........Alright?..Hurt?...Gomenasai...blood...bad..man
She raised her cleaner maimed hand and pushed her fingers through the mesh.

" Henry..", she said aloud, her voice a bit hoarse." We need keys...".

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

The nervousness fell away immediately upon finding the wolf. It was obviously the right one. Now they just had to get him to open the cage...

But Scarab had already run her sword through the man. It was wonderful to watch- poetry in motion. But Henry was somewhat annoyed for a couple of reasons: first, she hadn't waited until the right time; and second, he didn't have a hand in it.

He gave her a muted smile, licking at the blood that splattered on his lips as she bent down to look at their prey. His smile extended to the dog as well, a half-quirk of his mouth.

When Scarab actually talked to him, he bent down to the dead man, searching his pockets. We do need keys. You should've waited until he opened the cage, at least...but I understand why you didn't. That was beautiful to watch, by the way. I just hope it won't make things more complicated...

To the dog, he says, "Don't worry...we're going to get you out of here." And to safety, of course. Henry's eyes shone as he looked through the worker's remaining possessions.

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

John did not know the other man, but something happened. It was a pleasure to see that scummy sack of shit run through with the sword but he'd ponder things later, when the stench was not clouding his thoughts. The dead man was on the floor bleeding still as the unknown man with Scarab searched him with only the nasty overalls to go through. While John was kept in a pen that merited a key, the key found on the body would be useful for his and any others, the operators aware of the average intelligence level of a typical employee thug and thus the locks were kept uniform.

That was bloody beautiful, luv, said the blue eyes when they met Scarab's. A warm pink tongue stroked what of her fingers that poked through. Who's the bloke?

(A pretty girl doesn't like blood on her hands, whispered a memory dressed in overcast gray.)

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

Scarab gave Henry a smile, and the odd look in her own red-lensed eyes matched the sheen in his.
Thank you. Don't worry, Serpent, you are a fast learner. A wink. Before you know it, you' and I will be dancing with the blades together....

Now that the rage had lessened considerably, she was a little puzzled at her own reaction.
She was almost never so impulsive, and Henry was most certainly right; she should have waited.
Offering a small self-deprecating smirk, she 'spoke' again.

Sorry....but I just-..Well, I was so angry. That pig was overdue for Judgement... she narrowed her eyes at the cooling corpse, but quickly turned her attention back to John.

Once the other connection was established, it was a little easier, but the weeping, whining, bleating mental static all around her was still very distracting.
If she kept eye contact, however, she could manage to sound less broken in her mental speech.

That's Henry. I'm his bodygaurd, right now, but don't worry; He's a friend.
She scooted over a little to give Henry better access to the lock, and scanned the room of sick, or injured, or just plain pitiful animals.
Once we get you out, we'll let them go too...I bet that some could either go to Xanadu, or maybe the forest?

Turning back to look into those intelligent blue eyes, she frowned.
....You ok?...We'll get you out of here, and take you home with us....You'll be safe there, and wecan see about getting you some food, then we'll talk to my Lord. Another smile.I bet he can do something for this curse-thing..

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

We're both changing still, I think, Henry replied to Scarab while rifling through the man's pockets. He came out with a key and smiled at it. It's going to take awhile to get used to things...and it looks like there wasn't any harm done. He holds the key up so Scarab can see it. "Here it is..."

The key fit in the lock, just like Henry knew it would. Shortly, the cage door swung open. Henry looked into the wolf's eyes, noting how very nice they were. No wonder the Corinthian had taken such an interest. There was a brief predatory glint in Henry's murky brown eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He smiled kindly at the wolf. "Come on...we'll get you someplace safe."

Looking around at the myriad of cages, he adds worriedly, "Scarab...I don't think we're going to have time to unlock all of these..."

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

Wonder if he could talk with the other, thought the wolf, with the way they were looking at each other like that, their ... auras, he supposed, but might as well stick with what he knows, communicating with Scarab. Ever since she got caught up in that load of bollocks with her so-called "Lord," things haven't quite felt, been the same. It trickled to Cori and it was fucking trickling down to him. Wouldn't be long until his usual avoidance would be useless, even if he did care about Scarab and was willing to assist her in any way he could. Aw, hell, he wanted to see that old Scarab again, the one sponging Cori's wound and filling the bathtub with blood, the smoking, the teasing...

Constantine snorted and hesitated a bit. Yes, something didn't feel right. Might as well heed it: Sweetheart, I appreciate the jailbreak but home is where Cori is. I have no bloody clue how long I have been gone but that poor bugger is worried sick. I know he is. The curse I can figure out meself. It's m'problem, just didn't know the soddin' dog catchers were that slimy. Shouldn't have left the studio.

He shut his own eyes, not paying mind to Henry. Missed that look. Free the dogs. Free me. You did good, sweetie. I thank you, but I don't trust your superior. S'wanna' happy ending for everyone, don't you?

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

Scarab bit her lip briefly and glanced from John to Henry, then back.
I know you don't trust him... - And to her this meant a growing distrust in her now....
... But...Henry was sent to find a white wolf, and bring it back to the cathedral.
She sighed and gave John slightly concerned look.
I won't pretend to understand why He wants to meet you, but after seeing this place, and knowing all the pain that's crammed in here....I think I can see whay He was insistent we get youout.

Henry was starting to seem impatient, and in truth: Scarab was begginning to worry about additional 'keepers' or how she could make John understand Henry needed the english-wolf to come with them.

She was trying to concentrate harder on 'speaking' clearly with John....but the harder she tried, the more that static of the unredeemed was pressing in on her.
She frowned again, and looked deeper into those beautiful, intelligent, blue eyes

.....And realized with a bit of a shock, that the 'static', the heavy chains of guilt were emenating from John!
He was....guilty?
That didn't make any sense!...John was her friend...he wouldn't cry out for redemption to strongly to her, unless he had done some truly terrible things.

Red-lensed eyes widened as the realization came to her that the reason she was having so much trouble 'talking' to Constantine where there lay little to no difficulty in speaking with Henry, was the simple fact that the english-wolf was asking...nay, aching for a means of redemption!

Scarab was starting to feel mildly ill, and looked wildly to Henry with confusion written plain on her face and in her mind.
Serpent!...Oh, Serpent he is calling out for judgement!...I don't-..I don't understand. He is my friend, and a good person!

Henry...help, I don't know what to do! I can't hurt John...but he is so guilty...I don't want to hurt him...

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

You don't? Maybe it was the rage still inside the man, but Henry couldn't bring himself to care about John's welfare. This wolf was a bartering chip, and a way to even out misdeeds. The guilt just made it sweeter.

He's not going to listen to you, you know..." Henry had already walked a few feet away and returned with a shovel in hand. His speed wasn't quite as amazing as Scarab's, nor did he have her grace. But he was pretty damn fast, and that was all he really needed. He brought the shovel heavily down on John's head, intent on giving him a second blow if necessary. "Good night, John."

[silkcutremix.livejournal.com]

No... I... I don't bel...ve you. I want not...ng to do ... soddin' master. Nothing. We're ... to piss off ... own directions, right? .... fuck around ... him later, otherwise, ... can ... fuck off.

He wouldn't be going home then, and something told him he'd rather be fucking around with a thug and a lock than what would be coming if he went along with the two. John's heart ached for both Scarab and Cori as bared his teeth, ready to attack, and every single mental flash of what those fangs could do to them made it all hurt more. Unable to bring himself to hurt Scarab, he decided to make a break for it instead...

... And the shovel came down. Colors and the wounds on the nape of Cori's neck flickered. He stumbled, his legs giving, but he was still conscious. While unable to walk, to push off and away with his hindlegs in a desperate spring to freedom, he managed to look up at Scarab, his gaze trembling with a sad, angry betrayal. The whites of his normally full lupine eyes showed, and they appeared almost human, almost like the man inside of them.

They seemed to ask why.

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

"Henry! What are you doing?!", She cried, as the shovel came down.

Out of reflex she had scrambled back out of the way when John's angry thoughts had started to become broken and harder to 'hear'.

...It was like two sets of thought processes were warring with one another now, and she couldn't make sense of things even as they happened right before her eyes.
One side of her was unhappy that John hadn't simply cooperated, and come along peacefully, and the other side was disgusted with the first.
The second side wanted her to spring to her feet and deck Henry for hurting John.....but something happened then, that had never happened even when her Lord had first arrived to the city in a rage.

The mark on her lowerback burned....and there was nothing of the pleasant ache in this sensation. It was pure pain, and it's location ( just over the last vertebrae of her spine) would have brought her to her knees should she have been standing.

Tears welled in her eyes from the instinctual reaction.
She was confused, and hurt both mentally and physically.
This...this isn't right the tiny receeding voice that cried out at her to lay Henry out, grab John and make a break for it.

Confusion was giving way to an innercalm...a strange submissive sensation that came on without any sort of prompting.
Her Lord wanted the white wolf....Her Lord wanted the white wolf.

She had to take the white wolf back to the cathedral.

I-..I'm so...ry.... don't....erstand wha-

She didn't want to take him back...

...But I must the other side shot back. With another stab of angry pain from her mark, she met John's questioning eyes....

...And felt a single tear escape, to trail down her cheek to be caught by the masks' tiny chains.

The pain eased..eased, and soon faded back to nothing but ink in her skin.
Scarab....Keico The Dragon got to her feet, and felt strange; miserable, but calm.

We have to go now. she 'said' to Henry.....and almost before the thought finished, she felt absolutely nothing at all.

[wisdom-rcvr.livejournal.com]

As the wolf didn't simply fall down at the first blow, Henry hit him again. His eyes were cold and piercing and didn't have any of the questions the Dragon's had. He did, however, notice her struggle. He watched her dispassionately as she argued with herself, twisting at the pain. He saw her cry.

It took a bit of an effort to keep from smashing John's head into the ground, beating it into a bloody pulp. But he managed somehow. And the Dragon's mind had calmed back into the certainty he knew she'd find again.

Yes, he replied, hefting the large creature up on a shoulder. He balanced it the best he could, then started towards the exit. His plan was to head into the unused tunnels as quickly as possible, then find a way from there to Xulchibara. He dropped the key into the mud, forgotten. They'd come back and burn the whole place down later. They had things they needed to do now.

As he finally got outside of the fence and away from the hideousness of the place, he decided to speak. "Like I said, we're both still changing. There's a lot to get used to." He smiled at the Dragon, and the worst thing about it was that there was nothing wrong with it at all. It was the same easy, open smile he'd have for anything that made him happy.

He couldn't wait to get home.