66 Posts
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10 Years
male
"batty"
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Shiloh Dubois on Mar 31, 2020 0:59:55 GMT -4
straight outta wesker's backpack SHILOH HAD BEEN WATCHING THE TEENAGERS for some time now—they’d shown-up in the park a week ago, and had taken shelter beneath a nearby bridge. It was a low bridge that crossed the creek, so small that a grown man could barely stand upright within it. And during the time that Shiloh had been observing them, he’d learned a good many things.
Firstly, they spoke English. They spoke it well, and without an accent. That meant they were native English speakers, and foreigners to Japan.
Secondly, sometimes they didn’t look human. Sometimes they looked like dogs (or doglike things). That meant they were quirkers.
And lastly… they had a lot of things. Food. Toys. Blankets. Much more than Shiloh had.
The boy was getting desperate. After nearly getting caught by grocery store owners and pro heroes alike, he was skittish about shoplifting fruit. But no fruit meant that he was hungry, and being hungry made him desperate. So the boy lie in wait near the bridge, watching the brothers go about their business. The smaller, quieter one had left his pack near the edge of the tunnel. Earlier, Shiloh had watched him shove a soda and some candy in there.
And now… that was his mark. The bat fanned his wings and, with two strides, was airborne over the dusk-lit playground. Most children and their parents had left for the evening. It was totally deserted. So Shiloh was unbothered as he soared past the play structure and towards the creek, clicking softly to find his way.
The clicks were soft, growing in volume and frequency as he got closer to the backpack. He landed in the mud, the ground cool beneath his hands and feet, and he crawled towards the mouth of the bridge. His ears were twitching with anticipation as he reached for the backpack and dragged it closer. Shiloh sat cross-legged with the bag in his lap, wrestling the zipper open. He found the soda easily enough, an electric orange thing that he knew would taste almost like fruit, but burning.
The candy would be more difficult, because it was smaller and less distinct. Shiloh’s clumsy claws dug past hard, plastic surfaces and bundled-up fabric. He had to be quick. They were nearby and if he wasn’t quick, he’d get caught A car drove over the bridge, and then another. In the din, he didn’t hear the approaching footfalls. And by the time he noticed there was someone behind him, it was too late.
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52 Posts
0 EP
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15 Years
Male
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Bishop Atkinson on Apr 12, 2020 0:46:42 GMT -4
throw out the map, don't look back  Alright, that was that handled, no need to worry about food for the night. There were some upsides to being settled where they were, namely that it was close enough to busy streets for him to slip into crowds and snag things that he and his brother and that it was quiet enough later in the day at the park for no one to question him wandering around. No matter what form he took. After all, how weird was a dog wandering a park in the first place? Even if it was a pretty huge one. He slunk back under the tunnel, dropping the bags in his mouth to the ground. Today’s dinner? Who knows! A well dressed couple had takeout bags, and now they didn’t. They could afford to buy more, he needed it more. ...Plus it smelled really damn good, and he wasn’t about to let that chance walk by him, both literally and figuratively. He took a moment to look around the tunnel, sniffing at the air for a moment. ...Huh. His brother wasn’t here. He must have wandered off to go take care of his own business. Oh well, he’d be back, he always was.
What he didn’t expect was the...other smell. That one was new. Not human, it didn’t have the ‘feel’ he’d learned that people did while in this form. However, also not canine or feline, the other two constants around. He knew those smelled. He pushes the takeout bags into the shadows of the bridge, dropping his body into what could only be called a hunting stance as he moves through the darkness towards the smell. As he got close, he managed to pick up a rustling...and realized two things very quickly. One, that was Wes’ backpack, that was easy to tell just by looking at it if not from the scent that hung in the air. Why would he leave that behind? That was how they got their stuff jacked. He makes a note to talk to him about that. Two, there was someone rustling through it that wasn’t him.
His body dropped that extra bit, mostly invisible in the shadows of the dusk of the bridge outside of two headlightesque eyes and heavy pawfalls. Then again, his ‘mark’ seemed a bit distracted, so might not even notice that. It was threat assessment time, Wes wasn’t here, his pack was, and someone was searching his stuff. That did not look good. Bishop felt that old frustration well up as he wondered if Wes had gotten himself picked up or captured in the short time they’d been apart. He was having a pretty good day, he did not need something going wrong. Once he got close enough to see though, genuine confusion crossed across his face, his stance raising again. ...What was that? The ears looked almost battish. No, not a full bat, he was straight-up just sitting and pawing through the backpack. Small. Maybe young, or maybe just a bat, it was hard to tell. Nothing to really be scared of, that was for sure. That said, he had Wes’ backpack, and that wasn’t gonna fly. No puns intended.
“...Looking for something?”
The voice that echoed from the tunnel was little more than a low growl formed into words. Shortly after, a large black canine stepped forward into partial light. He pads up behind the bat, a hot breath washing over the top of his head as the canine loomed. Small tendrils of fog seemed to wrap around the bat’s sitting place as well, not there before.
“Not a good idea to go stealing from people, ya know. ‘Specially ones bigger than you.”
At that, he made a point to curl his lips up in a...frankly disconcerting look that showed off his teeth generously. Maybe a smile, maybe a snarl, maybe something else. It was hard to totally read.
“Now you wanna hand that over before I decide I don’t wanna be nice anymore?”
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Post by Wesker Atkinson on Apr 15, 2020 0:30:47 GMT -4
 | Hard days made me, hard nights shaped me
I don't know, they somehow saved me | |
Wes really needed something to feel like the gang was back together, so to speak. Sometimes it felt like he was trying to speak to his brother and Barghest was the only thing answering him back. If they didn't start regularly communicating comfortably like they did countless times before, who knows when his brother might just decide to bear his teeth and jus- Fairly loud rustling sounds were coming from the bridge, breaking Wes' concentration as he walked the side-path from the road above leading to their days old hideout. There sure was a lot of noise coming from the spot he left his backpack. And yet, he only put it down there to give himself some air and stretch a bit. Despite how successful this bridge troll spot had been so far, the whole situation made him feel stuck and helpless. Walking around without searching desperately...being spared from the pressure of onlookers as he would try his best to look like he wasn't desperate and up to no good. It was exhausting, suffocating even. But maybe he should have picked a different time to ditch for a few minutes. This wasn't the sound of Bishop preparing dinner at all. He finished hopping the chain-link fence partway down the path moderately packed with foliage, but were hardly an obstacle. Maybe the river was known to flash flood frequently, but neither Atkinson bothered to gave a damn. A fence that "prevented" "vagrants" from "trespassing" on "restricted" grounds was the only thing in the way. His shoes quietly slid down a bit each time his weight pressed on the loose dirt. The rustling sounded more frantic and desperate by the second. Wes had a useful technique when opening his backpack zippers in order to make no noise whatsoever in desperate situations, but whatever was making the sound certainly hadn't had the chance to take any of his advice before. A small part of him was glad to have his entire stressful thought process cut off, leaving no distractions and allowing Wes and Bishop to unite under a common cause: to deal with this adversary together ...and the other small part of him was screaming and rattling his mind bars because someone had the nerve to try to take his soda stash in the 10 entire minutes he had decided to leave it behind. >> "Honestly...of all the times to..."Wes muttered to himself and slowly descended the dirt path and began to slowly take the corner to see what was happening under the bridge. His right hand slipped into his pocket and held on to his concealed switchblade, ready to use at a moment's notice. As he rounded the corner, it was apparent Bishop had everything under control. But something was off about this, now that he could see around the corner with his own two eyes. Wes was certainly not in the head space to confront an angry black dog this time...but whatever this weirdo was rooting through the backpack was definitely not the threat that he expected. This thing was a bat, but child-sized? It looked so scared...and it reminded him of the kind of situations that he'd rather forget ever happened. He remembered looking Barghest dead in the eyes for the first time... This was getting more complicated now. >> “Not a good idea to go stealing from people, ya know. ‘Specially ones bigger than you.” He pulled back behind the corner quickly and quietly with his back on the concrete of the bridge. Looking upwards he closed his eyes and tried taking quiet, deep breaths. Labored at first, but getting better. He had been through worse before. And there was no time to feel like this now; this could get way out of hand for everyone if he didn't do something immediately. Bishop's growling voice echoed off the wall and ceiling of the concrete tunnel the bridge created. >> "Now you wanna hand that over before I decide I don’t wanna be nice anymore?”Frantic whispering ensued as he gathered himself: >> "Now or never, Wes. He's not angry at you right now. He doesn't actually want to hurt anyone. My brother is still in control. Just act natural, like this is your first time reading the situation and maybe we can get all our stuff back AND the kid with the quirk can realize it's 2 against 1 and...get scared and run away? No one's gonna get hurt. My brother is still in control. Act calm and non-confrontational and no one will get hurt and we can scare off the thief together. My brother is in control."Wes walked up the hill for a moment, and turned back again. He took a deep breath...and added enough momentum to fake a loud slide on the dirt path to the bottom. He bounded a few steps afterward to stop him momentum, and stood up straight. He turned, breathing heavily and flashing an exaggerated and uneasy smile. >> "So~!...what's for dinner, fam?"▲ WORD COUNT: 821 ● NOTES: As the flashbulbs burst / He holds a smile / Like someone would hold / A crying child" |
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66 Posts
EP
EXP
Total
10 Years
male
"batty"
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Shiloh Dubois on Apr 15, 2020 15:31:32 GMT -4
straight outta wesker's backpack A STARTLED "SCREE!" ESCAPED THE BAT when the first presence revealed themselves. Shiloh leapt to his feet, and away from the backpack, the soda still clutched in his claws. It was that stupid car’s fault! He hadn’t noticed that he was being watched. He turned towards the source of the noise, his heart fluttering against his chest.
Now, while Shiloh couldn’t really see the approaching dog—and he was sure as heck spooked enough to not want to open his eyes—but he could perceive their outline. Whoever they were, they were big. Low to the ground, like they were hunting. And worst of all they had this mean, grumbly voice that could only belong to something mean and grumbly. It stalked closer, breath roiling over the small mutants head, and the child trembled, refusing to release his vice-like grip on the soda bottle.
Shiloh dared to open his eyes, just for a moment, and was rewarded with sharp points of white set against an impossible black.
My, grandma, what big teeth you have.
He snapped his eyes shut again.
Throughout this entire line of questioning, the bat had remained quiet—mostly out of fear. And though he knew, from diligent observation (and also just listening to the grumbly, growly black dog growl and grumble) that the brothers spoke English (rather than Japanese), in his terror the child resorted to his most familiar language.
“J-j-je suis d-désolé, je n-ne vous comprends pas,” he stammered, holding the soda bottle to his chest, “J'ai t-très faim. Et j-je s-savais que tu avais de la n-nourriture.”
He started to get teary-eyed, his ears flat against the crown of his head, his head tucked. A more daring person would’ve shouted some sort of “Fuck you!” and flown away, but Shiloh didn’t even know the F-word, for starters, and he was just a scared ten-year-old.
Another one slid down the hill, and the child yelped again, taking another step back. He was inadvertently cornering himself, but Shiloh did not have the wherewithal to notice that.
The new arrival seemed uncharacteristically lax about the whole thing, going so far as to ask what was for dinner. And since you really couldn’t hand things to a dog—
The bat child held out the bottle to the boy who’d just arrived—it was the only thing he’d grabbed from the backpack, and the only thing he’d managed to hold-on to.
“S'il vous plaît, monsieur, ne le laissez pas me manger ...”
| ft. wesker + bishop atkinson ooc notes: i've never learned french, blame google for my transgressions |
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52 Posts
0 EP
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15 Years
Male
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Post by Bishop Atkinson on Apr 23, 2020 1:02:19 GMT -4
throw out the map, don't look back Bishop couldn’t help smirking to himself when he heard that scree. Good, he still had it. ...Sure, it wasn’t exactly a hard target, but at least he knew could still scare someone effectively. As the bat skittered away, the dog slunk forward to close the space. However, whatever he was expecting of the bat...it was not what happened.
The assault on his ears took him a good few moments to parse. Not Japanese, not English, something else. Wait...je suis...he had picked that out, right? ...French? Maybe? Not something Bishop knew anything about, but he’d at least heard it around before. ...Mostly in jest and making fun of it, but hey! Recognition was recognition. That said, he still understood none of it. And if the kid couldn’t even understand him...there was no real point in trying to taunt him.
“...Alright, was not expecting that. Japanese, yeah, but not...that. Look, kid, just drop the soda, we worked for that.”
He paused for a moment, realizing that the kid still couldn’t understand him even if he wasn’t being taunted. Instead, he raises a large paw, raising it to his mouth, then dropping it in an attempt to mime a dropping motion. ...Unfortunately, it looked a lot like a forceful stomp, which probably didn’t help the large creature’s case. ...And there go the tears. Not a foreign sight to Bishop, but still something that got a huff out of him, more hot breath puffed over the bat.
Before he could dig that hole any deeper, he picked the telltale sound of skittering down the hill, his ears perking and his gaze shifting off the bat and towards the newcomer. He tensed up for a moment, just in case...but then he picked out the shape. Good timing, bro. He let out a short greeting bark before looking back to the bat.
“I’d say bat, but thing’s already about to piss itself just with me here. Nah, I got us takeout.” he said with a toothy grin towards his brother. “...Don’t know what’s in it, but hey, the chance is part of the fun of it, right? Thrill'a the hunt or whatever that saying is. Point is, we'll see. Smelled good in the bag though. It's safe in the dark." he said, looking back towards the tunnel, then back to his brother, sitting himself down on his haunches. Made his stance a bit less scary, but also made him tower over the bat a bit more. Oops. “But yeah, before we eat, looks like we caught ourselves a thief. Don’t think they can understand English but they’re not Japanese, think he’s French or something. He barked a bunch’a nonsense at me, sounded like when the kids used to make fun of French junk. Not good at the whole stealin’ thing, as ya can see.” he said gesturing with his head to the terrified looking creature clinging to the soda bottle.
When he saw the bat move to hand back the soda, he paused for a moment...then let out a loud bark of a laugh. “And doesn’t look like he actually wants to keep it either. How *sweet* of him. Damn, I really do still have it. I didn’t even need to do anything.” he says, watching the two and rising back to his feet to move more to his brother. “...What do we do with ‘em? This isn’t exactly the warehouse back home, we can’t just drive them back up into the rafters so they don't bother us.”
WORDS: 582 - TAGS: - NOTES: |
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52 Posts
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Post by Wesker Atkinson on May 4, 2020 23:33:13 GMT -4
| Hard days made me, hard nights shaped me
I don't know, they somehow saved me | |
It was the strangest feeling...but despite how real his fear was a split-second ago, Wes couldn't help but feel really dumb for being so fearful in the first place...Is this really what his desperation led him to believe? Well...maybe being desperate just changes you sometimes. If Wes let it change him, then Bishop might end up letting it change him someday too, right? But Barghest proudly sitting alongside a sizable amount of food was the exact reminder he needed to remember how good Bishop was at being Bishop. What a score! Brooding over things on an empty stomach was always an endless loop, and Wes was very thankful to have some light at the end of the tunnel. Wes assumed that Bishop was surely fighting the urge to wag his tail right now. This dog needed a medal of honor. No more complaints. >> "A very belated New Year's present, I see. Damn bro, ya shouldn't have! Even with my human nose, I could probably smell that sensational bag from a goddamn satellite! And good timing too, since th-">> "S'il vous plaît, monsieur, ne le laissez pas me manger...”The bat scampered over to him speaking more unintelligible French and brought the soda bottle close enough to pick up out of his claws. >> "I...guess my stolen sodas weren't high class enough for your refined French palette, huh?"He gently tried to receive the soda from the trembling bat boy. The soda bottle was still clenched in between his claws, unintentionally stuck there. If there wasn't pressure still in the container, it probably wouldn't have retained it's shape by now. It would be an ordeal to pry it from him, most likely. Honestly...there were two 4-packs worth of soda in there. It was more trouble then it seemed to be worth to get the soda back now, anyways. Instead, he pushed the soda lightly back to the bat boy until it pressed against his chest. >> "I don't appreciate your nosey face getting into my stuff, but it's pretty admirable that you did it all by yourself...if my guard dog didn't show up when he did, you might have actually gotten away with it!...especially if those wings of yours are more then just for show."The fox boy snickered to himself for a second, and continued. He didn't really want to be particularly mean, but in the heat of the moment he felt like he could afford to say whatever came to mind with his guard down. The bat probably couldn't understand him anyways. >> "And besides that...you don't haveta keep using your quirk anymore, kid. I think I speak for both of us when I say you're not the kind of person we take pleasure in ripping off. And like...where are your parents? We're not gonna have search parties and concerned family to deal with tonight, are we? Bishop really hates flashlights shining in his face at night, and someone's probably going to end up a blood puddle and live the rest of their lives howling at the moon when he's done with them. True facts."Wes waited a moment to see if there was any shaking head responses or glimpse of understanding at all so the Atkinsons could actually rest easy for a night. Nodding his head no to his question was required or this bat really had to go. >> "Now, if you excuse me, I was distracted from the best part of my week so far..."As he waited for a response, he meandered over to the meal waiting for him, swaying over to the plastic bag like a glue-trapped carpet was suddenly pulled under his feet. Wes put a hand absentmindedly on the black dog's head as he looked over the bag of mystery food up close. >> "'Eat now, think later.' If we had a motto, I'm pretty sure that would be it. I don't know what to do about the wet paper bag, bro. Need some more time to think about it when I'm not withering away. Even my fox stomach is shriveled up by now...it's empty something awful, dude. Yeah, yeah I know. It's obvious. Anyways, I think you deserve the first bite, but I can't help wanting to know what's inside there immediately."▲ WORD COUNT: 713 ● NOTES: "Run, wolf warrior, to hide your hunger // The rain will wash away the pains of the day" |
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66 Posts
EP
EXP
Total
10 Years
male
"batty"
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Shiloh Dubois on May 5, 2020 16:03:12 GMT -4
straight outta wesker's backpack CHILDREN WERE FICKLE-- AND AS SOON AS the black dog had switched from intimidating him to outright ridiculing the child for being scared, Shiloh switched from abject terror to flushed indignation. Of course he was scared!! The black dog was as big as he was and he might bite Shiloh’s face-off! Who wouldn’t be scared of that?!
Shiloh tucked his head, hot, furious tears welling in his eyes.
The arrival of the boy seemed to placate the dog, marginally, because the black dog plopped into a sitting position and began to speak eagerly about the “takeout” he’d acquired. Shiloh sniffed the air. It did smell very good. But it also smelled meat-y, and he couldn’t eat meat. The dog also seemed to assume that Shiloh couldn’t understand them, and began to discuss what could be done about the little bat right in front of him.
Shiloh might be clueless, but he knew this could work in his favor.
The apparent human said something about “sodas not being good enough for his French palette”… no… he was just doing what the dog said. He actually really wanted to the soda—the apparent human seemed attuned to this, for they pressed the soda back into the bat boy, refusing to take it. Shiloh watched, confused.
He could keep the soda?
The apparent human was clearly the good-cop in this routine, so it would behoove Shiloh to sucker-up to that one instead of the mean dog! The bat tucked his head as the boy rebuked him, wrapping his arms around the soda bottle as if holding-on to it before dear life.
The logical questions followed—why was he using his quirk, where were his parents, et cetera. Shiloh shook his head, and tucked it further. It was dangerous to tell strangers that you had no parents and were alone, and there was no “changing out of being a bat” for Shiloh. So he simply shook his head and looked embarrassed.
When Wesker went towards the takeout, Shiloh hobbled after him, clearly refusing the order to “scram”. Maybe they would have some veggies? Or some fruit? Something he could scrounge… besides, he was small.
The unsteady bat wobbled his way to the pair, and then braced himself against Wes’s leg, peeking towards the spoils below. In a way, it was similar to when a timid child hid from guests behind their parents’ leg.
If either brother spoke too harshly or physically tried to brush Shiloh off, the bat would scrabble out of reach without running away. But if neither brother were mean to him, Shiloh would remain rooted next to Wesker, hiding behind his leg. (Not too close to Bishop, though, because Bishop was still very scary.)
Be it from just out-of-reach, or just behind Wes’s leg, Shiloh would profess the following in a quiet voice:
“C'est juste moi, pas de parents.”
It’s just me, no parents.
If the brothers listened closely enough, they might here a few familiar words, albeit twisted by the French language. Perhaps they’d be able to get the gist of what he was saying.
And again, because it bore repeating—
“S'il vous plaît, j'ai très faim.”
Please, I’m just hungry.
| ft. wesker + bishop atkinson ooc notes: i've never learned french, blame google for my transgressions |
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52 Posts
0 EP
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15 Years
Male
Civilian-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Bishop Atkinson on May 8, 2020 19:23:54 GMT -4
throw out the map, don't look back The large black dog grinned toothily at his brother at the bit of praise that came, nodding to him. “You know it. Even us street rats deserve an actual meal sometimes.” he said, quick and to the point. Not that he would have had much more time to respond anyway, considering the bat butted in. He let his brother handle the soda return, knowing full well he had forfeited any attempt at being good cop just by wearing his fur. Oh well, not like he was very good at it in the first place. The ‘nice guy’ routine was always more Wes’ thing. That said, he did try to at least support and back up some of things he said.
“Hey, someone has to be able to guard the stuff when you run off. But he’s not lyin’, bat. You are not the type we like to scam or steal from. You’re way too small and don’t have a wallet.” he said with a low, raspy snicker. “...Or maybe you do, but if you’re trying to steal soda, means you can’t even pass to get into one’a the 24/7 stores. So yeah. No reason to. An’ yeah, if we can avoid flashlights in my face, that’d be greeeat. Already got ‘em, don’t need more.” he added, leaning in to one against show off those spotlights. But then he backed off, reminding himself to calm it down. He’s already scared, don’t need to do more. Nothing to gain from terrorizing him right now. Plus he saw that shake of the head. “No one’s coming then? Makes things easier. Take your soda, yeah? We got things to do.”
With the bat temporarily forgotten, that reminder of why they were there in the first place perked his ear up quickly. “Eat now, think later.” he echoes, following his brother off into the darkness of the tunnel. “Trust me, curious what it is too. Just smelled good, and the bag is heavy, so whatever it is…” he said, his shoulders shrugging. “Just gimme a sec. I don’t feel like eating through the plastic today. ...Amuse your new friend. ...See if you can figure out what it wants. And keep it away from the bag.” he said, looking back towards the lurking bat, listening for a moment. He definitely picked out a few things there. ‘Parent’ for one, but also ‘si vou plait’, which even he knew meant please. Basic phrases weren’t too hard to remember. He let out a short huff through his nose before dipping into the darkness.
This bat...was causing a conflict in interest for Bishop. On one hand, it had tried to steal from them, and even if seemingly harmless, that couldn’t be ignored. It also seemed to be eyeing their food from how close he was hanging, and they needed that. They deserved that food for themselves. But on the other hand...god that thing was pathetic, and it was obviously hungry if it was trying to loot a backpack for soda. Plus it hadn’t left after being caught. That wasn’t thievery, that was desperation. Like, if it had been a genuine thief, this would be easier! He found himself thinking back to the old days of resource sharing with the friend gang, spreading their ill-gotten goods...and he could feel that temptation in his heart. ...Maybe a little bit, maybe the bat could have a small portion. It was small, probably didn’t take much.
A few minutes later, a new figure emerged from the darkness. Gone was the massive dog, replaced with just a pale-skinned teenager in a worn down t-shirt for some band or another and torn jeans. He looked to the bat first and gave a short smile. “...Look, if we have some extra, we’ll share. If.” he said bluntly, then looking back to his brother. “Alright, I’m starving, let’s do this.” he said, sitting down to the ground and tearing into the bag.
“...Holy shit. ...Dude, this is the best score we’ve had since we got here.”
He quickly began to unstack the pack, laying it out like a buffet in front of them until he was left with three larger boxes, one smaller one, and a couple of plastic-wrapped triangular things. He pops open each one carefully.
Two were pretty easy to pick out, at least in individual pieces. Segmented boxes with rice, what looked to be either chicken or beef depending on the box, something that looked like egg, something fried, and some sort of salad. The other two however...less so. The smaller box seemed to just have three sauce drizzled fried balls in it, a definite stench of fish coming off of it. And the final box...was just a mess. A definite smell of meat came off it, as well as a fishy undertone and the smell of veggies, but it was hard to totally identify things. There were definitely green onions, some kind of shredded veggie, and a flaky substance. There might be things under it, but it was hard to tell, so piled was it. It all sat atop sauce drizzles over...what might be pancake? Some kind of bready base. Thankfully the two triangular plastic wrapped things would be easy to identify: rice balls. The mystery however was what was actually in them. Unless one of them could suddenly read Japanese, there were no real clues other than colors.
“...Alright. I know I usually split it all up and we just...scarf it. But what the actual hell is most of this?”
WORDS: 918 - TAGS: - NOTES: Hunger makes the heart grow fonder. |
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52 Posts
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Post by Wesker Atkinson on May 11, 2020 22:28:45 GMT -4
| Hard days made me, hard nights shaped me
I don't know, they somehow saved me | |
Wes could tell his brother was finding it hard to decide what to do. Trying to "avoid scaring the bat any more" was no doubt only half of the story. The black dog would look back every once in a while while conversing. This wasn't quite like him, at least how he acted after the two of them were left out on Japanese streets. >> “...Look, if we have some extra, we’ll share. If.”The bat was certainly a weight on Wes' conscience too...not to mention his right leg. The kid shook his head "no" in response to all of Wes' prior questioning. It was heavily implied to him that the kid actually couldn't change back to normal... Was that even possible? Wes had spent so much time over the recent months wishing he had something better, that it was difficult to imagine how much worse off he'd be if his powers didn't work in reverse AT ALL. In the past, he constantly wished he was dealt a better hand. He wanted anything to properly fight off those damn mobsters back then... It was hard to deny how much more useful Bishop's powers were much more fit for surviving the grind without getting arrested, shot, or stranded somewhere starving to death. But there were ways to still function, and maybe a few glimmers of contribution he had to offer. He could still conceal the subject of his insecurity. There was some room for adjustment, adaptation, secrets. But for one moment he was forced to imagine being trapped as a fox for the rest of his life. He sighed deeply for a moment. The fox boy thought about his life, dealing with all of the struggles he'd been put through in the last months or so while instead being trapped in a different skin. How much more hopeless it would have been without Bishop. The struggle. The miles of traveling and hunting for food. Alone. Just like he had felt on that first night. He ached just a bit more. This just...would not do. This was an especially large haul and Wes knew they had to at least try to give the bat something to eat...Bishop was having a hard time saying no outright, and with some more thought, Wes was fully in agreement. Bishop was blurting a coded message here. Nine times out of ten, there was no leftovers whatsoever. Unless the food ended up to be too rotten for even animals to digest, they'd probably eat all of it. That's the way it had always been. And by the exclamation he got from his brother, the decision was about to get more difficult. >> “...Holy shit. ...Dude, this is the best score we’ve had since we got here.”>> "Bro, did you snatch someone's 5 star meal over here or what...?"There were many foods that were absolutely alien to the both of them. Some things with meat...and YES there was chicken in some of the boxes too. He'd eat just about anything fried so delicately...he was close to drooling rivers as he held off for Bishop to finish. The bat boy was still glassy-eyed and glued to his leg. The hope of gentle warmth of food in his stomach instantly gave him the drive to sort this whole situation out sooner rather then later. >> "Alright. You gotta know...the two of us love our meat. It keeps our powers and reflexes sharp. Bats...only eat plants and fruit, right? There's no fruit here, but maybe some of these seasoned greens or a rice ball would be enough. I'd consider giving you some of it for today. Just some greens and a piece of rice ball. You just gotta promise that you give us something in return...Maybe information about the area? You've been getting your food from somewhere...at least enough to stay alive. Or maybe there's something else you have the power to do. You gotta convince us that you can make up for the soda theft. You could have gotten away with something much more essential to our survival in there, ya know..."He held a single piece of broccholi from the box as a visual reminder of what was up for offering. But kept it out of reach until he was convinced otherwise. It pained him just a bit to get the kid to work for it, but it was the only way they'd be able to know for sure if this kid was a liability, or if there was more to him then it seemed. Keeping around any normal kid would be stressful, an extra mouth to feed and it would be just asking for the Atkinsons to get caught if a mid-risk food heist went badly. But this kid was certainly a quirk away from being normal. >> "Show me how a bat person could really help us, and you'll get your meal's worth if you convince me. I think that's a reasonable request. If we have to make you leave tomorrow, it wouldn't be easy on me, but it sure beats getting found out while sneaking around because our two-headed operation became three. What's your story? Show me what a bat person can really do."It hurt even more for Wes to ask something of the kid that he asked himself a lot lately. But desperate times call for desperate measures. At the very least, his moral compass would rest easy knowing that the boy wouldn't go hungry tonight; Wes would be sure of it. He'd be kicking himself for weeks otherwise. ▲ WORD COUNT: 910 ● NOTES: What would /YOU/ do for a Klondike bar, Shiloh?? |
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66 Posts
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10 Years
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Post by Shiloh Dubois on May 15, 2020 0:16:33 GMT -4
straight outta wesker's backpack NEITHER THE DOG NOR THE BOY brushed the child off—in fact, they seemed to outright forget him? Mostly. A wise person would have used the momentary distraction—be it the banter or the food—to bolt. Hell, even the dog gave a quick, “Take your soda, we’ve got things to do.”
Buuuut.
Weeeell.
That wasn’t at outright, “Go away” now was it? Shiloh shuffled his feet at the direction, glancing to the side-and-down rather than at his feet. The dog slinked off into the tunnel, soft paw-falls following it down. Shiloh’s ear flicked in its direction, and he lifted his head. If it was just the boy, and not the mean dog, he might have a chance—human footsteps padded back out of the tunnel, and in a vaguely familiar voice, the now-human insisted that if there were leftovers, they’d share.
For obvious reasons, Shiloh missed the smile altogether. But the offer was… hope-inspiring. The child waddled towards an empty patch of ground, a safe distance from the pair, and he hunkered down before kicking his legs out in front of him. With a soft whoomph the bat plopped to the ground.
He wasn’t facing the teens, per se. He sat sideways, his shoulder pointing towards the odd pair. It might give the illusion that Shiloh wasn’t watching them. His back was to them, after all. This couldn’t have been further from the truth. The bat hummed to himself, albeit under his breath, letting the quiet melody paint a landscape of the surrounding area. He would wait.
The smells were, of course, absolutely amazing. It was hard to ignore, even if Shiloh didn’t really eat meat. He turned his head, marginally, sniffing at the air as the teens surveyed their spoils. Perhaps the timid child was acting more canid than the actual canid shifters, stealing glances and whiffs at food that wasn’t his and turning away at the first indication that he’d been caught.
It was then that the nice one began to discuss what they could possibly leave-over for Shiloh… which all seemed very hopeful until he asked for something in return. Information? How had he been surviving? What’s useful about him? What was his story? The child curled-up slightly, scratching his forehead with his claws. His ears drooped with concentration. This boy wasn’t nice at all! He asked too many questions! The bat could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes again. He’d already forgotten at least half of the questions. And answering the questions felt like admitting defeat, besides which. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to eat.
But Shiloh wasn’t five years old—he was ten years old. Which meant that he was twice as smart and just as cute.
“I bet… you worked very hard to get that food,” Shiloh said uncertainly, wringing his claws so that his wings bowed-out awkwardly behind him, “S-sometimes I take things, too… but sometimes people just give me things… b-because I ask nice. Or to stop me from crying.”
In other words, he was cute and he used it to his advantage. But it was embarrassing to put it so bluntly. Shiloh didn’t even consider the fact that the O.G. Mean One could use Puppy Dog Eyes for anything, simply because the O.G. Mean One had scared him so thoroughly.
Even the Former Nice One had pitied the bat and given him the soda. It was a very clever thing for the child to realize, even if he realized it without an ounce of meanness.
But maybe that wasn’t good enough? That probably wasn’t good enough…
“I fly?” the child hazarded. They probably couldn’t fly.
“And I see with sounds.”
The bat provided neither information nor his story, because neither seemed to have any great influence on the imminence of food. He’d plumb forgotten to say anything on those two matters.
| ft. wesker + bishop atkinson ooc notes: i've never learned french, blame google for my transgressions |
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52 Posts
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15 Years
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Post by Bishop Atkinson on May 18, 2020 19:25:22 GMT -4
throw out the map, don't look back “I dunno about five-star, still can’t tell what most of it is, but we got a hell of a haul. Keep your tongue in your mouth while I try and figure this out and split it.”
Bishop’s nose was just...assaulted by opening up those containers, but he tried to focus enough to at least figure out what things were partially. Rice, meat, salad, those were easy to pick out. Rice balls, they’d grown up with those. ...But that thing that looked like someone had just dumped a bunch of stuff into a box? Not a chance. Kind of looked like a pancake, but there so much on it! He leaned in to sniff it though...and couldn’t quite help a bit of drool himself. Focus, focus. You’ll get your fill.
Bishop might not be the smart one of the group, but divisions? He could do that. He’d been doing that since they’d started bolting. The system was simple: split what they had in half, then adjust from there. Everyone got an equal share to start, and then Wes could offer up what he wanted to sacrifice to the black dog. He just puts aside the chicken bento box for Wes, opening it up to leave the top half of the container open. It found itself filled pretty quick, one and a half takoyaki balls and one of the onigiri, giving himself the same. He left that odd pancake thing on it’s own but split it with a plastic knife left in the bag. He hadn’t really been paying attention to what his brother and the bat child were up to, that single-minded ‘FOOD’ instinct overriding his...well, caring about things that weren’t food. But with everything split in half, he looked up to listen in.
“Look at you playin’ bad cop, Wes! Knew you had it in ya.” he said with a short snicker, unceremoniously popping a handful of beef into his mouth and working through it before continuing. “Also, food’s split. You know the rules, eat your fill, I’ll take the scraps. Don’t think we’ll have to worry about havin’ enough today.” he said with a quick grin towards his brother. He focused up on the bat shortly after. “Save some veggies for the kid so we can actually bargain. I’ll do it too. My bro’s right, though. Soda’s fine, we can forgive that, but there’s things in these bags that’d have us on your ass real quick. And we like our little...operation here with the two of us. What can you do for us?” he asked. But when the bat actually answered...that was not what he expected, but his mind started to run with the potential pretty quick.
‘Cute’ was always a piece that had been missing from their operation. They had brawn and street smarts from him, they had the brains and intricate work from Wes, but in those times they’d actually gotten caught? Running had been the only option. But if they had someone like that bat, someone who could cute their way out of things...maybe, just maybe. He’d also be a pretty solid distraction for Wes while he was doing his thing. The old “start a fight to draw attention” ways weren’t working for the ‘stay hidden’ way they’d been trying here in Japan. Kid was obviously hungry too, and he couldn’t help a certain bit of pity for that, even buried down deep in that Barghest ‘what’s mine is min’ heart. Even a big mean dog cared about some things and had some protective instinct! ...And dammit, that level of pathetic reminded him of Wes when they’d first started out. Just lost. After a few moments of consideration, he spoke back up.
“...Damn right we worked hard for this food. An’ you’ve seen me, I can and will eat all of it. Us givin’ up some food for you is a big give-up. But...yeah, you’re cute. I could see it.” he says, eyes scanning appraisingly over the bat. He looked back to his brother. “Could get us some stuff without me having to mug people for their takeout. Could be a distraction for those quick hands of yours. Get away with some smaller things we can’t. Would need a test run, a’course. But could be helpful. ‘Least as a temporary thing.” he said. But then the bat kept going. He had no idea if any of that talk of flying and sound was right, but he did look back to the wings. That tracked. And he seemed to remember...something about bats and sounds from their school days, so it could be true?
“...What do you think, Wes? Not super hot on having to take care of another head, we’re already on a thin line most of the time. But maybe helpful.” he added, looking back to his brother with a slight headtilt as he took another handful of food. “Think we can give up some’a these veggies?” WORDS: 821 - TAGS: - NOTES: something here |
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Post by Wesker Atkinson on May 20, 2020 23:13:42 GMT -4
| Hard days made me, hard nights shaped me
I don't know, they somehow saved me | |
>> "Did...did my strategy actually work?" He thought to himself as the bat mulled through responses in his head. The poor boy was close to crying...but then he toughened up, and rose up to the occasion in a way that Wes did not expect. >> “I fly?”... >> “And I see with sounds.”Uncertain, yet confident. There was a small spark in those black eyes and Wes felt connected to the weird child's spirit. Wes remembered how painfully hard the learning curve was to push through. Acceptance that his powers could be useful if he mustered enough brainpower and stopped being so scared of everything was something that only recently started sinking in. And even at that time, the idea was a bit rocky. Wes tried to forget how much his powers had failed him lately, even if the antics of the last week were still fresh in his mind. There wasn't time to keep thinking about how little he'd managed to accomplish lately. Today would surely be about how the new guy would change up their situation, so Wes kept his own thoughts from dragging down the moment. Despite initially feeling like the kid would just start loudly crying at the drop of a hat, the bat had actually proved himself to be better then that. Actually, he was almost a mirror image of the fox that he used to be, emotionally bruised but still fighting after everything that went down on Night 1. Maybe something good could come of this, after all. Something new and different then what they were able to accomplish to survive as of late...which is to say, not as much as they were used to getting away with. Japan was being hard on Wes; it was almost certain he would have starved if Bishop hadn't been picking up the slack lately. >> “...What do you think, Wes? Not super hot on having to take care of another head, we’re already on a thin line most of the time. But maybe helpful...Think we can give up some’a these veggies?”For someone usually at a loss with most attempts to plan for the near-future, his little brother was sure bubbling with a decent stack of potential plans. Maybe Wes would think of something as well the more they'd talk to the kid. No more holding back on the poor guy. >> "Certainly can't let this kind of talent go to waste, bro. We gotta give him the best chance to prove himself."He looked over to the new face and sighed a bit. Wes was left with a conserved grin on his face. If the idea was good enough for Bish, it would be good enough for him too. Not like he had ever planned to say no in the first place, but it helped to be sure of it now. He leaned down on one knee and gave up the bait, holding it in front of him. By now there was a few dribbles of sauce slipping between the fingers in his cupped hand. >> "Alright, alright. I give up. This and some more is for you if you want to eat it. What's your name, kid?"▲ WORD COUNT: 532 ● NOTES: "Please don't feed the animals" signs would always get on his nerves anyways. |
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66 Posts
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10 Years
male
"batty"
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Post by Shiloh Dubois on May 29, 2020 17:52:30 GMT -4
straight outta wesker's backpack THE BAT SAT WITH HIS CLAWS HOOKED and legs bowed-out awkwardly before him, his beady black eyes intent upon his feet as he spoke. For a moment, the bat was worried that the teens wouldn’t buy his sales pitch, that he’d once again be kicked to the curb without food or protection. His ears lay flat against his skull, bashful and subservient. With a word, Shiloh would scurry to safety if necessary.
But… the scarier boy of the two seemed receptive to Shiloh’s pitch, turning to his brother to discuss the possibilities that Shiloh brought to the table. His ears lifted hesitantly, daring to be hopeful. They’d let him prove himself?
Shiloh clicked softly as food was finally surrendered, dipping his head towards the offered veggies—food!
The scary one had asked the child’s name, but Shiloh was too preoccupied with picking up a large piece of broccoli and eagerly chomping-down on it. The boy preferred fruits, but he was so hungry that he didn’t care—this was the best broccoli that he had ever eaten, even if it was lukewarm and a little soft.
“Shiloh,” the boy confessed, between one piece of broccoli and the next. Fearing that the mean one would rescind the broccoli after the fact, the child scooped the rest of the handful with careful claw into his chest, so that the pile of broccoli was out of the older boy’s hands.
The rest of dinner passed in relative peace—questions volleyed from teen-to-child as the boys collectively made fast work of the pilfered meals. By the end of it, Shiloh’s belly was filled with delicious vegetables, and he’d almost forgotten his initial terror when the three had first met.
The boy hobbled to the water of the creek below, cleaning his claws and muzzle in the water. Having cleaned himself, he hop-skipped along the steep embankment to rejoin the group.
“Now what?” the boy asked.
| ft. wesker + bishop atkinson ooc notes: i leave the actual transition to scene two to you guys! what will shiloh's test of skill be? |
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Post by Bishop Atkinson on Jun 12, 2020 2:30:10 GMT -4
throw out the map, don't look back “Shiloh, huh? Cool. Glad to meet another street punk. Bishop. That’s Wes. Not from around here, but neither are you. So we have that at least.”
The boy saw how eagerly the bat hoarded his food and couldn’t help a short laugh. Yep, he knew that all too well, that “eat it while you have it” approach to food. He was doing it that exact moment, even. Once the food had been divided up properly, he tore into his portion, not really caring what exactly it was. He was able to figure out that the odd balls were definitely some sort of seafood, and that the mysterious disaster pancake was delicious, but...not exactly one to savor his food considering the circumstances. It was already gone in frankly record time, definitely not something new to his brother but perhaps a bit of a sight for the bat. He even went so far as to lick the boxes clean before moving on to pulling them in a haphazard pile next to him before bothering to even start talking. He had important things to focus on, after all! Namely food.
From there, the night went as nights go. Even he had to admit that it was nice to have a bit of extra company, even if the bat was very...soft. Most were compared to him, but it stood out. That said...there was a rebellious spirit, and Bishop could respect that. It at least kept him asking questions. There was still some grilling, attempts to figure out things the bat was good at other than what he’d said, but there was also just that casual banter. It was...comfortable, at least for Bishop. A rare chance to just sit and relax. Even his brother likely noticed it! His guard wasn’t down and that abrasive nature never went away, but...he was relaxed. He had food in his stomach, there was no visible danger right now, it was a good night. However, soon, that question came back up.
“Oh, yeah, test run. Better do that tonight, gotta earn your place under the bridge.” he said with a short grin. “Lessee…” he says, pausing as he thought. Something easy, low risk, something that the bat could help with...he ran quickly through ideas before he sat up a bit and looked at the bat.
“Net! You’re cute, you can soften people up, you can be our net!”
At that, he turned to his brother, that familiar fire behind his eyes as a grin spread across his face. Oh no, he had an idea he was excited about.
“Old plans, remember when we used to run the ol’ Three Card? I brought ‘em in, you hooked their wallets? We never had a real net. We had me bein’ loud, but pretty sure we can’t do that here. Soooo, think this. Bat boy nets ‘em in instead with cute, talks down anyone getting mad. Maybe make up a story. I can do my cards, you can make use’a those slick hands, we make out like bandits by not doing much. He can even keep a lookout so we don’t get busted like we used to by roving pigs. Sound good? Ideas? You too, Shiloh, ideas?”
WORDS: 534 - TAGS: - NOTES: Ideas brewin', crimes bein' commited. |
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Post by Wesker Atkinson on Jun 15, 2020 0:08:30 GMT -4
| Hard days made me, hard nights shaped me
I don't know, they somehow saved me | |
"Oh nooooo, Bishop has a plan...", Wes thought to himself sarcastically. >> "Old plans, remember when we used to run the ol’ Three Card? I brought ‘em in, you hooked their wallets? We never had a real net. We had me bein’ loud, but pretty sure we can’t do that here. Soooo, think this. Bat boy nets ‘em in instead with cute, talks down anyone getting mad. Maybe make up a story. I can do my cards, you can make use’a those slick hands, we make out like bandits by not doing much. He can even keep a lookout so we don’t get busted like we used to by roving pigs. Sound good? Ideas? You too, Shiloh, ideas?”He thought of Shiloh as an option, keeping watch no matter how dark it was outside...no reliance on one of them shifting and the other picking up the loose clothes to scout in the dark when things got dicey...It certainly made things more convenient, at least on paper. It sounded like a decent way to cover their backs, he had to admit. But could they get any takers, on a really busy street or even a quiet street? Where was really the nest place to try? And could they actually do it efficiently enough before someone called the police on them? Wesker was more and more curious about the idea the more he mulled it over, regardless. >> "Alright bro, I'll take your decent idea and raise you another one for the idea pot. What if bat boy's the lucky winner that draws people's attention. Not only that, but as he wins and celebrates from guessing the Queen correctly, he'll skip away to the prime lookout spot and simultaneously appear to not be involved with us at all. He'll be waltzing around the block to glide over to the perfect lookout spot somewhere and we'd keep an ear out for a signal. Ya think we can really pull this off? It's gotta be in a place with a lot of gambling-and-drinking types, but I think it's the perfect time to try. Not too early, not too late, they still wouldn't be asking Shiloh where his parents are just yet, hopefully. I just gotta swipe at the right time. It's a bit risky, but may be worth trying if we're willing to use this opportunity to figure out a great system. We could actually get away with this, just like old times...right...?"Wes couldn't help but feel a bit nervous with some of the moving parts of the operation changing. And yet, it was an exciting brand of nervous. The calm before the storm hits it's stride. They still had things to loose, but he couldn't help but feel good approaching a problem and fighting for a solution. ▲ WORD COUNT: 463 ● NOTES: People of Tokyo, please do not feed the street animals. It'll only encourage them. |
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