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.

-