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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.

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[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.]

[Bennett carefully takes the paper back, but the sound draws his attention immediately.

Those threads.]

I-- I want to help you.

[He blurts it out before he can stop himself. Inwardly, he cringes, but after a brief hesitation, he holds the paper pad back out.]

How can I do that? How can I help you?

[Ben, if this guy has a name, you don't even know it yet. Calm down.]

[Hound sighs. For all of his cold-shouldering, this guy just keeps coming back for more. Honestly, Bennett made him feel bad about himself a little, here. It was difficult to keep the guy at arms' length knowing that he was that wolf from before, the big dumb lug of a dog that had instantly endeared himself to the Nameless. Next full moon, the possibility of having a canine companion was an almost irresitable luxury - but would become a human again after. A speaking, thinking, remembering human, and that was the awkward part.

If Ben was only a wolf all the time. He'd be easier for Hound to talk to.

The pad of paper hangs in the air for a few long moments as Hound agonizes over his options here. This... No, this was a bad idea. Finally, he takes it from Ben, and writes his prognosis down slowly.]

You can't.

[He decides to give Ben a piece of advice, writing a second part;]

Don't make trouble. Thank the captain every chance you get.

[He glances at the paper and runs both hands through his hair, scrubbing at his scalp, as though that's going to jumpstart some thinking to get out the words he feels like he needs to say.]

I-- I'm not trying to make trouble, I'm-- I'm trying to keep t-trouble from happening! If everyone knows the ways things work, we can all stay safe, stay out of trouble. That's all I'm trying to do. I'm trying to understand.

[He wants to tell Hound that rules can't be followed without understanding the why behind them, but he gets the feeling it is a lesson the poor Nameless had already learned.]

I haven't had, had the chance yet, but I will thank her. And... and I will help you, because I can. I-- I've never met anyone I couldn't figure out how to help.

[Ben gets this creeping feeling that he's going to get smacked upside the head for saying as much, but there it is.]

[Its hard to watch. Bennett is so painfully sincere in his desire to help Hound that it makes the Nameless wince. The guy's a human now but he's still got one of the biggest sets of puppydog eyes that Hound has ever seen on another man. The professor's still an untested idealist as far as he's aware, and - hey, if he's going to stick his neck out, there isn't much he can do to stop Ben from doing that.]

I can't give you any hints.

[He's very quick to write this next one down, like he's suddenly rushed;]

ONLY TRUST
- Kenna
- Mica
- Percy
BEWARE SAM

[He circles that last part almost feverishly, holding it up for Ben just long enough for Hound to register that he read it once; the Nameless then rips it off of the pad of paper, letting the rest clatter to the floor.

Hound then busies himself with fishing his lighter out of his pocket and burning it, doing another quick shoulder-check as he did so.]

[If Ben's sincerity is hard to watch, Hound's panic at destroying the note is near impossible. It's too fevered, to messy to be some kind of act. Hound is likely absolutely terrified for his life. Granted, someone put those stitches in his face and Ben sincerely doubted that Hound did it to himself. Other than the facts that Hound has given him, though, Bennett is only certain of one more thing:

This ship is absolutely no safe haven.

He crouches to retrieve the pad of paper, speaking softly as he stands again.]

I-- I understand. You-- uh, I-- I don't think you need to say anymore. Thank you for, for meeting with me. And, and the information. I'll-- I'll keep and eye out, see if there's anyway I can pay you back.

I just have one last thing I wanted to ask, though.

[He holds out the pad of paper for Hound to write.]

I-- I never got your name?

[He's so reluctant to take the pad of paper again, but it's such an innocent question. Hound sighs, takes the writing utencils from Bennett again, and begins;]

My name is

[When he sets the pen down on the paper to start the first letter of his name, his arm is yanked by an invisible other, and it makes him draw a line right off of the page. Hound clenches his eyes shut and takes a breath to steady his nerves; he tries again. He sets the pen down on the paper, and just as before, his hand works as a planchette for an unseen force that makes him scribble instead of write.

He stops himself, rips the sheet off and tosses it over his shoulder. He writes on the fresh sheet;]

Hound

[He hands the pad of paper back to Bennett. The Nameless tested something out; he's done writing, now. His lips might be sewn, but his dejected expression can say that much for him.]

[Bennett matches the Nameless' gaze with mute horror, concern and something a lot like awe. There is so much more here than he could have guessed originally. His mind is running at a hundred miles a minute, trying to dig back into half-remembered texts that he knew sat at home on his library wall, through old catalogues and databases he'd compiled over the years of phenomena... all in hopes of identifying exactly what Hound had run afoul of, what exactly was cursing him this way.

Ben's fingertips brush at Hound's when he takes the paper back, and his breath doesn't quite catch up to his desire to speak.]

H-hound. Hound, thank you. I-- I'm sorry to put you through the trouble of....

[What? Hound's not done anything but quizzed him, berated him and looked mildly hurt at various lines of questioning.]

...a-all of this.

[But still.]

It, it means a lot, really. Thank you.

[He has to figure out how to help you.]

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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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