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2 - {audio}

So! Uh. Hi, everyone.

Question for the masses.

[Bennett fidgets a bit with his communicator, fingers audibly shuffling up the side and back down.]

If, if I haven't met you yet, my name's Bennett Marrow. I was a professor and researcher, back home. I-- I had a little bit of a second job, too.

[Evasive, but he's getting to it.]

Um, my question is kinda... multi-part, bear with me here.

So, we've-- we've been here for a little while, some of us longer than others, and, uh. I'm, I'm always looking for ways to understand the world around me. Aaaaand, uh, obviously, there's-- there's a lot to understand here. So, if anybody has any information about the nature of the Black Tide, or-- or, the previous ship that I've heard about, the MS Elegante-- could you please contact me? I would love to interview anyone who would care to step forward so we all have a log of information about our, uh, houseboat. Boat-home. This will not be confidential and I will be happy to share it with anyone who needs it at any time.

Also, on the, uh, confidential side of things. I, uh-- I know there are some other nonhuman and supernaturally-inclined beings-slash-people on this boat. If you need any help-- if you need anything, please let me know, okay? I'm-- I'm never going to tell anyone, but I know how-- h-how terrible it feels to try and find the help you need all alone. I'm, I'm a werewolf myself. I, I ran into a few of you last weekend.

I used to run a network for the supernatural crowd so I could bring help to anyone who needed it. I might not have all the tools I used to, but I know I can build that network here again.

[He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, fiddling with the communicator again.]

This-- this got kinda long. Sorry, everyone. Anyway. Um, I'd normally tell you to meet me at my room if you didn't want to talk over the network, but, uh, it's-- it's flooded entirely right now, so I'm, uh-- you can find me in the back corner of the shopping area. I've made a little, uh, cave.

Hit me up if you need anything. This is, is, B-bennett Marrow, signing off.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hound knows better than to openly offer information about the Black Tide over the comms - Rowe's watchful eye is ever-present over the network, and if not hers then her little watchdog Sam's; always looking out for the ingrates. He was just dropping by to tell Bennett that he should be more grateful, is all.

The blonde pokes his head into the shopping centre and keeps his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Places like this made him nervous for Reasons, and he did frequent shoulder-checks to put himself at ease. He stayed as much in the middle of the area as he could as well, high visibility in all directions. Better safe than sorry, and boy, had he been made sorry before...

It didn't take long to find Bennett Marrow's little man cave nest, and close to the den of this self-proclaimed werewolf he was put on edge. The guy didn't sound so tough, but he was probably super jacked. Werewolf professor and researcher? Researcher of what? Supernatural creatures? Hound reckoned that you should have to be some behemoth of a man to qualify for anything in that field.

Doing another shoulder check, he spotted some lanky, gawky nerd floating around the place.

Hound squinted at the guy, leaning on some shelving.]

[I'm sorry, Hound, super jacked? This twig? I mean, yeah, a week ago he could have punched you and made it hurt, but now he'd wind up with a sprained wrist and tears in his eyes, probably. Ben's wandering back to his little corner, dragging a rolling clothing rack behind himself to set up for some privacy.

He almost rolls over Hound before he realizes he's there.]

O-oh! H-h--

[First thought: holy shit, it's a Nameless. They still skeeve him out a little bit. He can handle zombies in various states of decay because he knows how aware they are. He hasn't had time to figure out the Nameless.

Second thought, when he gets a little closer: holy shit, it's that Nameless. The one with emotions, expressions-- the one that seemed like it was human, or, at least, alive. He... sincerely doubted this guy was going to make a connection between the wolf from before and the dweeb standing here now.]

H-hello. Can I help you?

U-uh, I'm... I'm not in the way over here, am I?

[Hound shakes his head and gives him a very unsubtle once-over - looking Bennett up and down, the expression on his face makes it very clear that the Nameless before him thinks very, very little of him in terms of being a physical threat. More than anything, he looks a little bored. Stepping aside for Ben to do his thing with the clothing rack, he looks around again for the jacked werewolf prof. But this guy had the unmistakable anxiousness he'd heard over the comms, and all of his hopes of meeting some Jason Statham looking motherfucker (albeit with an embarrassingly tiny voice) were dashed.

The blonde pointed at Ben and then gestured to his comm, shooting him a questioning look.]

U-uuh-- was-- was that me, I'm guessing that's what you mean?

[He swings the rack around into position and holds up his own comm for emphasis.]

I-- uh. I, I must not be up to standard, if-- if that's the look I've won.

[hahaha can he be a puppy again it was so much easier to talk to you then.]

[He glances away guiltily and rubs the back of his neck. Yeah, he was probably a little rude just then. Whoops. Well, Bennett's kindof a nerd so he's honestly not too scared of offending him when it comes to his size. Hound mimes big claws and a hunched sort of bearing, because he was expecting something scarier, then shrugs.

Then he just kindof stands there for a moment, because he feels a little bit awkward. He jams his hands in his pockets and looks around again, then he remembers to keep his hands free in case of danger and starts to anxiously wring at them in front of himself. Finally, he starts typing something on his communicator, but he doesn't post or send it - instead, he steps forward to show it to Bennett, and deletes it immediately after.]

i can trade u info

Yeah, I'm not that scar--

[He reads the communicator when it is presented to him and his eyes light up.]

O-oh! Oh, wonderful! Is-- is it easier for you to-- to write or type? I've got some blank pages and a pen here. Whatever you feel comfortable doing.

[His face lights up at the writing option. That's ... he can burn that after, right? That's perfect. No accidental 'send' or anything. Nothing could possibly go wrong. He gestures for Ben to hand him the pen and the paper, on which he writes;]

what do I get in return?

[Ben looks up from ripping a few more pages out of the back of his notebook for scrap to write on to read.]

... Wh-what can I give you? What do you need? O-other than an IOU, I'm-- I'm generally pretty useful when it comes to favors.

[You are looking at a man who does not blink at going into debt, but always gets himself out of it.]

[He scribbles some more, and shows it to Ben;]

What can you give me?

U-uh. Iiiii, have a coat? Some notes. I doubt you'd want anything I've got that you'd want that's physically here.

I can give you information? I'm-- uh, I know you think I don't look like much, but, uh. The wolf can be put to pretty good use when he's around.

[He looks at the ground, at his hands, at Hound's pen.]

I could... try to figure out how to help you? I-- we-- we've met before.

[He glances up at Hound's face, waiting for another twist of disgust, or whatever that expression was from before. Dismissal. Whatever.]

I said I was a werewolf. ...do, do you remember the wolf? From-- from last week or so?

[Hound freezes at mention of the wolf. He brought that dog with him on errands, tried to train him to sit and stay by literally pushing his hips down and putting most of his weight on Ben's lower back until the canine got the picture and sat. He shook his finger at this guy to stay put while he made some deliveries in crew-only zones, and came back to him to have a walking companion between jobs - only for Ben to start wagging his tail and stand up when the Nameless came back through the CREW ONLY door. It made him smile, for something to be happy to see him, like that. And when he was done a fair chunk of his work for the day, the oversized wolf lied down on his feet while he did the paperwork for it.

And it was a dude. This whole time, it was a dude.

He nods, after a time. Awkward.

He gave this guy tummy rubs...]

[Ben gives poor Hound an apologetic smile.]

If it-- it makes you feel any better, it's, uh... the training was probably needed. I'm not... super smart when I'm like that. If-- if someone doesn't talk to me or, or generally be a person around me, I'm-- I'm basically a dumb dog.

[It's not entirely true, but maybe it will make him feel better.]

...s-sorry. I-- I didn't know if I'd see you again, otherwise, I-- I would've apologized sooner.

[Yeah, no, that doesn't help much. Before they settled in for a nice session of paperwork and napping, there were copius pets and skritches and doggy kisses. Ben licked his face and Hound encouraged it by sticking his chin out and making duck lips. Because he likes playing with dogs and sometimes dogs just do shit like that. But it was a dude...

Does that mean he technically made out with Ben...?

He gives it a moment's thought, then writes;]

How come you're way huger as a dog?

That is an excellent question, and, uh-- I've been trying to figure that out for a long time. I think it has to do with, with the subspecies of werewolf I, I fall under, as opposed to like, my-- my actual body-type.

Buuut, in reality, I have no earthly idea.

[He nods a little. He still completely does not Get It, but he'll roll with it. Idly scratching his arm, Hound is lost in thought for a moment before he writes some more;]

What kind of wolf are you?

Uh, as far as wolf-wolves go, I'm pretty close to the Mackenzie Valley Wolf-- we did blood tests and everything a while back.

But, werewolf-wise, it's... weird. There're a couple of different groups, starting from the most ancient and classical werewolves, and, uh... with me, a couple centuries ago, some witch or someone got the bright idea to make their own werewolves, and, uh. That's basically what I got infected with. The wolf itself is easy to manipulate and a little, uh, rough around the edges. That's the short version.

[So far, Hound has gotten way more information out of Bennett than Ben has gotten from him. He nods, watching the lanky man go on about himself and his condition, and his brain takes the cliff notes; bunch of werewolves. Mackenzie Valley. There was the crazy-vicious kind he was thinking of, but a witch made her own fluffy were-woobies and he's one of those.

He tries his best not to look disappointed.]

How contagious is it?

[This was the important detail, he figured, if he were to resell this information.]

[Bennett is not the type of person to hide information that isn't going to harm anyone. Though... the relative contagiousness of the disease being common knowledge could be problematic.

Then again, it would pretty fucking hard to make the wolf bite much of anything that wasn't a steak.]

I'm not sure. I've never bitten anyone, and the data on the subspecies is very... spotty.

It-- it sucks, really.

[It's not entirely untrue.

...okay, so, yeah, he's bitten someone, but they didn't live long enough to turn.]

[He squints. You know, that's... that's really not good enough information for him. If its bite-transferable, then doesn't that mean saliva-to-open-wound contact? Saliva to blood? Saliva to, say, stitch holes on the mouth?

He whacks Bennett hard on the shoulder with the pad of paper, giving him an incredulous look. Hound huffs, staring Ben down for a few seconds before writing;]

What kind of professor ARE you!?

[Did he seriously potentially contract lycanthropy from doggy kisses last week? That is the worst werewolf story EVER.]

I-I--

[He winces, and pulls his elbows in close to himself, his brow knitting tight with worry.]

I-I'm sorry. I spent more time studying others than-- than figuring out myself. I'm, I'm sorry.

[Deep breath. Be brave here for a minute, Ben. This guy's cute, not intimidating. You've held firm against bigger assholes. ~~that has got to be some kind of innuendo~~]

It's-- you get it if I were to bite you as a wolf, I'm sure of that. I just don't know what the success rate of contamination is. I-- I was infected on my first contact with it. There are... there are a lot of factors.

I'm sorry. I-I-I-I, I haven't gotten a chance to build up the research I had at home. I don't what applies here. My current assumption is that this-- this is not the reality I'm used to, so all-- all bets are off, from what I've seen so far.

I-I'm sorry.

[First contact!? His eyes widened and the outrage was clear in his expression. In Hound's eyes, Ben had been highly irresponsible by being a super affectionate oversized puppy at him and silent, understanding companion to his pain; a real treat after some truly hellish sailing. Yeah. Fuck you, Ben.

It was a good thing he was on good terms with the resident doctor, Kenna - he was going to see to this one pretty much immediately. He flipped to a new sheet on the pad of paper and furiously scribbled;]

If you gave me wolf herpes I'm coming back here and punching your face

[He held that one out for Bennett - and to make his point clear he ripped that page out, slapped it against Ben's chest and shoved - before stomping off in what could only be described as a shitfit tantrum attempting to be threatening. ]

It's--

[Hound is more than arms' length away before Ben relaxes enough to say anything in reply. Hound won't care, anyway-- he reminds Ben vaguely of his younger brother, Colin. Not a great resemblance to have.]

It's blood to-- to-- s-saliva.

[He scrubs a hand through his hair, watching Hound's retreating form. Think fast, Ben-- you can't afford to make enemies here, and this guy is crew. Ignore the relative cuteness. He's useful. Stop thinking in terms of friendship, because that's obviously the farthest thing from this guy's mind. Other than, you know, the lycanthropy contamination.

He chases after Hound and grabs him by the elbow.]

L-listen, please. You're-- you're not infected, I'd-- I'd smell it on you, I-- I have licked plenty of faces to know this much, if that's-- if that's what you're worried about the contagion being. I know that sounds stupid, but-- but please.

How can I make it up to you? I'm-- I'm sorry. Please. I'll do-- I'll do anything.

[....Ben, I don't think that last sentence means what you think it means, considering how quick you are to throw it around.]

[Hound knew where Bennett was every step of the way. He listened carefully to the running footsteps to make sure that there was only one in pursuit - but the fact that someone was running at him in a shopping centre in the first place really put the Nameless on edge. Ben wasn't racking up the likability points here, for reasons he couldn't possibly have known about. But then again, at this point, it would be difficult for Ben to do anything right by him.

He did a shoulder check just before Ben grabbed his arm and made his plea. The werewolf had already offered to share his information to whoever wanted it, so it had little value to him if it was freely available to everyone; so, therein lied his concern. There was power in a position of Knowing, a power that he'd coveted before, and - as an Icarus, he came to regret trying to soar to heights that were never meant for him.

He wrote;]

Stop asking questions about the ships.

[He watched Bennett's expression carefully.]

[He's confused, and hurt, and a little more scared than he had been since he'd gotten here. You don't tell someone not to ask questions if your situation is entirely safe and secure. Questions are allowed in safe spaces. Curiosity is only discouraged where there are answers to be found.

The expression he turns on Hound can only be described as "kicked puppy."]

...i-is.... is that how I'm supposed to make it up to you? Or... or is that just friendly advice?

[Besides, his request is already out. He has another contact. He doesn't have to search for the answers on his own anymore, some of these answers will come to him.]

[There isn't any pity on him ; just a really resigned, tired expression. He doesn't want to have to deal with the fallout of any of the passengers asking too many questions. He remembers all too well the time he asked one to many - he was dealing with the fallout of that still. Before ripping out all of the pages he wrote on and stuffing them in his pocket, he scribbled;]

Both

[Hound plucked at one of his stitches a couple times like a guitar string, then held out the pad of paper and the pen for Ben to take back.]

2 - {audio}

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I apologize now for the wording because I said it and it was too funny not to leave

never apologise for art

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