008. mirror.

[sorrycharles]

I’ve captured two of them.

[ Erik is still short of breath, teeth and eyes cut bright against the mud smeared swarthy around the cinderblock of his head. ]

Juveniles. They’re penned in the clearing outside of camp.

[ He blinks hard, blind eye rolling white in its socket. ]

I’m not sure what to feed them.

OOC: Backdated to just after the stampede. OOC post with details here.

Comments

[fullmoon]

If you put a bit of everything in front of them, they'll probably let you know.

[metempsychotic]

What?

[ At first there's no clear view of the speaker, who has nearly fumbled their shard in haste to respond. ]

How? Where?

[ The crisp image of a sweaty-faced Ieza finally swings into place, her eyes wide if not quite wild, her hair a tangled halo of hood-head. ]

Are they injured? Are they sexed?

[sorrycharles]

A bit of everything. [ This makes sense, enough for Erik to echo while he reins higher thought processes around. He nods to himself after giving the suggestion a moment to settle, and looks off screen.

Off mirror. ]

Thank you.

[sorrycharles]

[ Erik’s brow furrows, battened down against questions rushing in from an unfamiliar source, working overtime to focus through mud and sweat and exhaustion. ]

Who is this?

[ asking the important questions. ]

[benumbing]

I have a solution. Two, in fact. Kill them or set them free, then you won't have to worry about what to feed them.

[sorrycharles]

[ Erik is silent, for a beat, brows canted with the effort involved in filtering down his immediate response for a live audience. ]

I've been saying the same about you for years.

[benumbing]

You haven't known me for years. [Yeah, he's taking him literally.] Those things stampeded through here. They could've destroyed the camp, they could've trampled people to death. And your first thought was to make them pets?

[sorrycharles]

[ He meant it literally, Mister Benjamin. ]

Yes.

[ The last trace of humor has leeched from his good eye, leaving the iris a cool slate fixed on Jack’s face. ]

Has your amnesia encompassed the entirety of human history.

[klutziness]

How'd you catch them?

[sorrycharles]

I snared a pair of stragglers by the horns.

[ That's the short version. He doesn't look too keen to elaborate. ]

How adept are you with radio technology?

[metempsychotic]

Unimportant!

[ They've been introduced, albeit in distracted circumstances, and Ieza is not swift to own to it. ]

If either have been hurt, I might be able to mend them. We must keep them alive!

[ And, not one to be sidetracked: ]

Are they sexed? Can you tell?

[benumbing]

[It's not the hard look that throws him off his rant, it's the man's words. They're confusing, and Jack's expression twitches, brows knitting together for just a moment.]

What amnesia?

[Like he needs to be more paranoid.]

[alsohawkeye]

Nice job.

[ Believe it or not, Kate actually sounds sincere. Because for once she is. ]

How are they taking it? Are they violent at all other than the whole frantic stampede part?

[sorrycharles]

[ More silence.

He looks at her, equal parts weary and wary. ]

I don’t know.

[ This is a lot of scientific pressure to deal with right now. ]

They seem healthy.

[sorrycharles]

[ Suspicion flickers thin through mud-streaked crow's feet. Past that, there's no change in his expression. ]

Show me your hands.

[sorrycharles]

[ Erik is too worn down to muster suspicion for Kate’s congeniality.

He’s blank for a beat instead. Processing, ahead of an earnest answer. ]

They’re afraid.

[metempsychotic]

[ He doesn't 'know', but they 'seem'... Sanctissima- ]

Well, thank you so much for wrangling them-

[ The unpleasantly practical term is spoken with the verbal equivalent of tongs, the word held at length, as if simply saying it risks getting her grimy. ]

-but it may behoove us to transfer responsibility to better educated individuals.

[ Guess who she means by that. ]

[fullmoon]

Of course.

[ He hesitates. He doesn't know anything about Erik that everyone who had a comms device before the crash doesn't also know, but, you know. That's plenty. The fact that Charles somehow gets along with him (or something) anyway is the only reason he keeps talking. ]

Can I help?

[sorrycharles]

[ Erik’s head turns, pale eyes narrowed into something distinctly predatory. He is suddenly paying very close attention to the 'individual' on the other side of his mirror.



He can't guess. ]

[metempsychotic]

[ What Erik emanates is predation. Anyone who really knows him would know this.

What Ieza perceives, she interprets as insolence. Obdurateness, at best. ]

This is no time to be territorial.

[ Her shard is angled upwards as she holds it before her, allowing her to talk into it - and down at him - while keeping her footing in view. ]

If you wanted your own little estate you shouldn't have advertised it to the commons.

[benumbing]

[It's a strange request, and the narrow-eyed look that Jack gives him reflects that opinion. But he's also curious as to where this is going. He sighs, puts the mirror shard on something level, and holds both of his hands up.]

Is there some point to this?

[axeyou]

I'd never have taken you for a guy who keeps pets.

[kutte]

What're you naming them?

[ jax with the hard-hitting questions. ]

[klutziness]

[but she's burning with questions
and the image of erik wrangling these things to the ground]

Pretty handy. Why do you ask?

[noman]

[Did Ieza want to have a conversation with two of the same face? Well too bad, here's another: a blonder, friendlier, and importantly mud-free one.]

Begging your pardon, ma'am... but, as you've just pointed out, this has already become a matter of communal interest. Might I suggest we all work together?