I told you that I've killed vampires. Do you think that's the clean side of me?
[Maybe he can hear the hurt. It's hard to broadcast it - her pride gets in the way, and her pride is attached to her rage. If he can hear it, he better not announce it.]
[ he can hear it, but his reaction isn't quite what it should be. because nobody here really knows him, knows what he's done, and now she's here trying to hold that against him (not what she means, but there's that anger like a needle in the back of his neck; it's making a mess of any real sympathy). ]
You've killed vampires.
[ he flashes a smile, but it's a false one, amused at his own expense. ]
I've killed vampires. I've torn them apart and I've eaten them, and I've killed people - I bashed a man's skull in with a rock, and then I cut his head off, and I burned a room full of - they were innocent people who didn't even know they'd been turned into monsters yet. I don't even have a clean side anymore.
[ he stops himself, but it's obviously a bit late for that. his expression's gone dark, closed off. ]
Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make it easier for you, hearing that I'm a monster too?
[ too. he's got a weirdly black and white view of the world, considering the fact that he lives in the grey. monsters are monsters; weretigers count. ]
[She turns, then, and slams him into the ground. It's not a hand on his chest, but a paw, and her face is changing, too; it's still humanoid, she can still speak, but it looks like she came out of an extremely high-end production of Cats, except instead of looking cute and stupid, there is something dangerous, there.]
What I wanted to hear from you was the truth, when that is all I offered to you.
And I am not a monster-
[Her teeth are huge - huge - but she hasn't torn out his throat]
I gave you a piece of me and you hid yours because you're ashamed of something that I have been my whole life-
[Her claws are drawing blood, a little, but she's not digging in.]
[ he's on the ground before he can really react, but his hands come up quickly, one on her shoulder and one on her neck - it's bizarre, being able to feel the shift beneath the skin, the shape of the body changing beneath his grip. he's not trying to choke her; it's just a defensive maneuver, trying to push her back, keep the fangs from his throat.
he can feel the claws in his chest, and it should hurt. it should make him scared, probably; same for the teeth so close to his face. all it does is make him angry, make the wolf rattle the bars of its cage, and even if he doesn't have fangs he's baring his teeth right back. ]
You don't get it. Turning into an animal doesn't make you a monster. The wolf doesn't have anything to do with it. I did those things.
[ but that's too much talking for the circumstances, with her weight on him and her fangs that sharp. there's also the wolf, and it feels like it's scratching at his skin; clamoring against his skull and telling him to fight back.
which is stupid, because he can't. it's also stupid because this is daphne, and he doesn't want to fight her. ]
Get off.
[ it's assertive, but the truth is he's begging, because this feels like the moment before the shift. skin crawling and fingertips bleeding, but none of that's real. it's not time to turn, but he doesn't even know if those rules apply anymore and he's terrified of finding out whether or not he's right. ]
[The cat is infinitely less concerned with dominance than wolves are. The tiger inside - except it's not, she doesn't differentiate them like that, it's not her and the tiger, its her instincts and her logic that she distinguishes is more concerned with pride.
And maybe the hurt, the hurt that she trusted him and he didn't trust her back, but what is this, she thinks? Bad karma. Loss of faith. Why should he trust her when she does this in response?
She can smell his fear and that makes her want to bite, but she doesn't. She pushes off and tries to take control of her shift, to bite back the edges of her rage. It's hard. Rage is hard. She's back up the tree in a moment, just like a cat, the pride making her haughtier than usual, to mask the pain.]
Don't think that killing humans makes you less human. Don't think it makes a side less clean.
[She's been there. She's faced that, too.]
I just want you to be honest with me.
[She isn't judging him for the things he's done to others. The shift back from Sotko isn't quick or easy, but they're alone in this corner of the gardens so she's not in any hurry. Up in the three more of her body is on display, but she doesn't seem embarrassed]
[ he hesitates for a second before pushing himself up on his elbows, one hand instinctively going to touch his chest, the small traces of blood. but he's fine, and she's backing off, and then she's heading up the tree, and-
this is really, really weird. it also occurs to him that he snapped. he shouldn't have said any of that, and it's like being in that rundown kitchen taunting ray. he feels like an asshole; he also feels satisfied, glad he hit a mark. the second reaction disgusts him, and he pushes it down while he pushes to his feet, takes to cautiously dusting off his arms and jeans while his eyes don't stray from the tree. ]
I'm sorry.
[ what he wants to say is he disagrees, thinks all of those things make him nothing close to human, but he's already pushed that button once today. ]
I should have trusted you.
[ he's not sure if now's the time, but a distraction doesn't seem like a bad thing. his voice is gentle despite the direct question, aware that it might be a bit too personal. ]
[She looks down at him, and eases back onto the tree, relaxes. The shift back comes slowly, her paws and ears, her eyes, the stretch of her limbs, the tail. The last thing to change is the color of her, the fur of her, until finally she's back to Daphne again.]
Probably. I'm not spreading your secrets, Josh. You're the only one on board I can talk to.
[She doesn't say that her privacy is the most important thing to her, that when she told him those things, she gave him a slice of that privacy to guard, that it's not about her shifting but things like she doesn't keep a boyfriend, things that are about her.
But then something occurs to her.]
Hurt? Wait, are you saying it hurts you when you shift? Every time?
[ the only one she can talk to. there's some guilt in that, because she's not necessarily the only one he can talk to - though he tends to talk out of necessity, and the other wolves were the most logical choice for that.
but now he knows, and he feels like an ass, and he needs to fix it. he's about to say something else that's apologetic (and mean it), but she speaks again before he gets the chance. ]
Yes. It's called a curse for a reason, right?
[ there's an attempt at humor there, but he's clearly not amused. ]
[ her concern earns a sympathetic smile, but this isn't really new territory for him; most of the shifters he's met on the ship didn't have it very rough on the transformation front.
her question isn't one he's heard before, though, and he's caught slightly off-guard, but the answer is easy. ]
Nora. My wife. And- a few others.
[ not all intentional, not all good memories, but it does give him a second's pause. ]
Purebreds seem to have it easier. Or it hurts and they like it anyway, they're kind of... intense.
[ he's slightly disturbed by the thought, and it's obvious in his expression and careful wording. it seems a bit more diplomatic than calling them creepy and insane. but daphne's fretting, and she definitely doesn't owe him that after the crap he pulled. ]
[She looks doubtful. It's never hurt her. The shift just happens. The only time pain was involved was once, when she shifted out of that box ready to kill, but that wasn't the pain of the shift, not really.
But she won't press it. She comes a little closer - not close enough to be "in" his space, but close enough that she can get used to the smell of him, now.]
Maybe it will get easier for you, too.
[Maybe, maybe, maybe. If you don't fight it, she thinks, except she won't say it. Not when that might actually be something sensitive.]
[ she doesn't say it, but it crosses his mind; it has before. the way the purebreds preferred being the wolf, acted like it wasn't half as awful; it might be related.
which means a spike of nervous energy that he skips over, arms crossing over his chest in an anxious gesture to hide it. ]
Yeah. Yeah, that could be it. But it's - it's kind of a process.
[ bones, stomach acid, things that he'd be happier to have not studied or gotten evidence of despite the desire to make medical sense of some of it. speaking of which. ]
[She resists offering healing the cuts she gave him on his chest - they're small, but she feels a little bad....but it might be embarrassing for him, to have her tongue on his chest.
And right now she's trying to mend this, not make it more awkward.]
I accept the shift. It's part of who I am.
[There's a moment, a pause. She's never seen this as a curse. It would be unbearable if she did. Her curse is opposite, it seems - the ease of the shift, the uncontrollable aspects of it: ears, eyes, tail, claws. That's the Bastet problem, is letting both natures simply flow, one from the other.]
[ how to say 'that sounds like an awful idea' without sounding ungrateful. ]
It's dangerous. Not that I don't think you can take care of yourself, clearly you can, but - I'm pretty sure the wolf would try to bite your head off. Unless you're talking meditation and accepting the wolf, which is a really nice idea, but - well, then the wolf just tries to bite my head off.
[ seriously, it's this whole dreamscape thing. his wolf is a dick. ]
[She takes a moment, she's about to ask - do you really think of yourself as separate from the wolf - but he wasn't born this way so she doesn't, that's another conversation. Time to stow this one.]
[She gives him a look. It's the kind of appraising look that a woman might give a man who she's considering sleeping with, except in this case it's less "I want to sleep with you" and more "I refuse to let some no-name pussy alpha wolf get in my way," and Josh is the prize.
It's a very cat look.]
You're not a member of his pack, are you?
[Because there's etiquette and fuck it she'll break it if you are.]
[ jesus christ. except he's totally seen that look, if a slightly more wolfy variety, and usually from nora and usually in more intimate circumstances, but-
not really appropriate associations, very much not the time. ]
I'm not... sure.
[ he honestly isn't. still, not the most convincing of answers. ]
Yes, I am very, very aware of that fact. Thanks for pointing it out so eloquently, though.
But he's a wolf. He's...
[ oh god is he going to say this ]
And this kills me to admit, trust me, because I'd genuinely rather cut my own face off than say this, but he's actually better at the werewolf thing than I am at the moment. I need his help.
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I told you that I've killed vampires. Do you think that's the clean side of me?
[Maybe he can hear the hurt. It's hard to broadcast it - her pride gets in the way, and her pride is attached to her rage. If he can hear it, he better not announce it.]
did you order a breakdown sorry daphne
You've killed vampires.
[ he flashes a smile, but it's a false one, amused at his own expense. ]
I've killed vampires. I've torn them apart and I've eaten them, and I've killed people - I bashed a man's skull in with a rock, and then I cut his head off, and I burned a room full of - they were innocent people who didn't even know they'd been turned into monsters yet. I don't even have a clean side anymore.
[ he stops himself, but it's obviously a bit late for that. his expression's gone dark, closed off. ]
Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make it easier for you, hearing that I'm a monster too?
[ too. he's got a weirdly black and white view of the world, considering the fact that he lives in the grey. monsters are monsters; weretigers count. ]
Josh, Josh no
What I wanted to hear from you was the truth, when that is all I offered to you.
And I am not a monster-
[Her teeth are huge - huge - but she hasn't torn out his throat]
I gave you a piece of me and you hid yours because you're ashamed of something that I have been my whole life-
[Her claws are drawing blood, a little, but she's not digging in.]
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he can feel the claws in his chest, and it should hurt. it should make him scared, probably; same for the teeth so close to his face. all it does is make him angry, make the wolf rattle the bars of its cage, and even if he doesn't have fangs he's baring his teeth right back. ]
You don't get it. Turning into an animal doesn't make you a monster. The wolf doesn't have anything to do with it. I did those things.
[ but that's too much talking for the circumstances, with her weight on him and her fangs that sharp. there's also the wolf, and it feels like it's scratching at his skin; clamoring against his skull and telling him to fight back.
which is stupid, because he can't. it's also stupid because this is daphne, and he doesn't want to fight her. ]
Get off.
[ it's assertive, but the truth is he's begging, because this feels like the moment before the shift. skin crawling and fingertips bleeding, but none of that's real. it's not time to turn, but he doesn't even know if those rules apply anymore and he's terrified of finding out whether or not he's right. ]
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And maybe the hurt, the hurt that she trusted him and he didn't trust her back, but what is this, she thinks? Bad karma. Loss of faith. Why should he trust her when she does this in response?
She can smell his fear and that makes her want to bite, but she doesn't. She pushes off and tries to take control of her shift, to bite back the edges of her rage. It's hard. Rage is hard. She's back up the tree in a moment, just like a cat, the pride making her haughtier than usual, to mask the pain.]
Don't think that killing humans makes you less human. Don't think it makes a side less clean.
[She's been there. She's faced that, too.]
I just want you to be honest with me.
[She isn't judging him for the things he's done to others. The shift back from Sotko isn't quick or easy, but they're alone in this corner of the gardens so she's not in any hurry. Up in the three more of her body is on display, but she doesn't seem embarrassed]
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this is really, really weird. it also occurs to him that he snapped. he shouldn't have said any of that, and it's like being in that rundown kitchen taunting ray. he feels like an asshole; he also feels satisfied, glad he hit a mark. the second reaction disgusts him, and he pushes it down while he pushes to his feet, takes to cautiously dusting off his arms and jeans while his eyes don't stray from the tree. ]
I'm sorry.
[ what he wants to say is he disagrees, thinks all of those things make him nothing close to human, but he's already pushed that button once today. ]
I should have trusted you.
[ he's not sure if now's the time, but a distraction doesn't seem like a bad thing. his voice is gentle despite the direct question, aware that it might be a bit too personal. ]
Does it hurt? When you...
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Probably. I'm not spreading your secrets, Josh. You're the only one on board I can talk to.
[She doesn't say that her privacy is the most important thing to her, that when she told him those things, she gave him a slice of that privacy to guard, that it's not about her shifting but things like she doesn't keep a boyfriend, things that are about her.
But then something occurs to her.]
Hurt? Wait, are you saying it hurts you when you shift? Every time?
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but now he knows, and he feels like an ass, and he needs to fix it. he's about to say something else that's apologetic (and mean it), but she speaks again before he gets the chance. ]
Yes. It's called a curse for a reason, right?
[ there's an attempt at humor there, but he's clearly not amused. ]
Guessing that's a no for you.
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It shouldn't hurt, Josh.
[She grips onto the tree.]
None of the garou I know have ever said anything about pain. It's not...
[A curse. Well, clearly, it is, for him. She begins to make her way down, now that she's calm again, now that he seems calm too.]
Has anyone ever gone through a shift with you?
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her question isn't one he's heard before, though, and he's caught slightly off-guard, but the answer is easy. ]
Nora. My wife. And- a few others.
[ not all intentional, not all good memories, but it does give him a second's pause. ]
Purebreds seem to have it easier. Or it hurts and they like it anyway, they're kind of... intense.
[ he's slightly disturbed by the thought, and it's obvious in his expression and careful wording. it seems a bit more diplomatic than calling them creepy and insane. but daphne's fretting, and she definitely doesn't owe him that after the crap he pulled. ]
Seriously, it's fine. You get used to it.
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But she won't press it. She comes a little closer - not close enough to be "in" his space, but close enough that she can get used to the smell of him, now.]
Maybe it will get easier for you, too.
[Maybe, maybe, maybe. If you don't fight it, she thinks, except she won't say it. Not when that might actually be something sensitive.]
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which means a spike of nervous energy that he skips over, arms crossing over his chest in an anxious gesture to hide it. ]
Yeah. Yeah, that could be it. But it's - it's kind of a process.
[ bones, stomach acid, things that he'd be happier to have not studied or gotten evidence of despite the desire to make medical sense of some of it. speaking of which. ]
How does it not hurt when you do it?
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And right now she's trying to mend this, not make it more awkward.]
I accept the shift. It's part of who I am.
[There's a moment, a pause. She's never seen this as a curse. It would be unbearable if she did. Her curse is opposite, it seems - the ease of the shift, the uncontrollable aspects of it: ears, eyes, tail, claws. That's the Bastet problem, is letting both natures simply flow, one from the other.]
Do you want help?
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Help with... help with what, the shift?
[ it wasn't an unheard of concept. even pete had implied you could make it a bit easier, but he'd likened it to a heart attack anyway. ]
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[She says it like, duh, of course that's what I mean. Isn't that obvious?
Although if she's honest, she doesn't know how much help she can give.]
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[ how to say 'that sounds like an awful idea' without sounding ungrateful. ]
It's dangerous. Not that I don't think you can take care of yourself, clearly you can, but - I'm pretty sure the wolf would try to bite your head off. Unless you're talking meditation and accepting the wolf, which is a really nice idea, but - well, then the wolf just tries to bite my head off.
[ seriously, it's this whole dreamscape thing. his wolf is a dick. ]
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I met Derek Hale.
I assume you have, too.
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Yes, I have. Why?
[ it's almost hesitant, as he's not entirely sure where this is going - or he has an idea, and he'd rather not go there. ]
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It's a very cat look.]
You're not a member of his pack, are you?
[Because there's etiquette and fuck it she'll break it if you are.]
help i'm laughing
not really appropriate associations, very much not the time. ]
I'm not... sure.
[ he honestly isn't. still, not the most convincing of answers. ]
Yes good
You know he has the social skills of a mentally disabled sea slug, right?
[Her conversation with him was exactly ten minutes of her day but man did that guy need some serious etiquette lessons]
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Yes, I am very, very aware of that fact. Thanks for pointing it out so eloquently, though.
But he's a wolf. He's...
[ oh god is he going to say this ]
And this kills me to admit, trust me, because I'd genuinely rather cut my own face off than say this, but he's actually better at the werewolf thing than I am at the moment. I need his help.
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Okay, Josh.]
I'm not asking him for permission to talk to you.
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What? Sorry - why would you need to do that?
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[Maybe that is a little bit too much opinion. Sorry, Josh.]
And there's etiquette. And I hate it, but I follow it because I don't want to make a scene.
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