Don't get caught alone (K'sel)

[Avu]

He was feeling very much the hobo, sitting straight-backed and cross-legged with the cold of the stone leaking through his pants, eyes closed and hands cupped loosely in his lap, a firelizard wrapped around his neck like an exotic scarf. She was licking at his cheek, her eyes bright and curious, her confusion filtering into his mind as light wisps. What was he doing, there wasn’t even any food or anything here, it was just empty and wasn’t he bored yet?

“Shh,” he said out loud, eyes still closed, “I’m meditating.”

Which he wasn’t, not really. What A’emi was actually doing was just listening, his head tilted to one side, his breathing muted in his throat; he had chosen this particular hallway on purpose because nobody ever came down this way that he’d seen yet, and it was nice, being able to hear the trickle of a waterfall without footsteps and the loud smack of conversation interrupting it. It was a pity Darkling didn’t actually understand that, but then, she’d always been a very people-oriented creature. A’emi was pretty sure neither Titania nor Kyrahth would understand either, and he was appropriately grateful that Titania was off with M’kai somewhere and Kyrahth was dozing on her ‘ledge, pleasantly warm and absent from his mind.

Darkling quieted briefly, and then abruptly took flight, the soft whoosh of her wings blocking out the sound of footsteps only for a minute before A’emi tilted his head and actually wilted in despair. He was never ever going to ever be alone because people were always going to invade and why was this his life, since when had he even wanted to be alone and wait. Shit. He peeked one eye open warily and slowly rotated in an awkward seat-shuffling spider-dance motion until he had managed a 180 and was presented with a fairly unexpected K’sel.

A’emi blinked at him, and then, as Darkling immediately latched onto K’sel’s shoulders and began to groom his face in a show of blatant affection, said, “I thought you were maybe that people-eating monster.” He looped his arms across his knees, tipped his head towards the ground next to him, “Want to meditate about how cold my butt is with me? It’s something that can only possibly be comprehended through the experience of it, it’s like high-inducing poisonous lizards that way. Sit. Shut up, Darkling,” he added, wrinkling his nose at the firelizard.

She ignored him. (Having mindmates ignore him was becoming quite a commonplace thing now.) Darkling clung tighter to K’sel, her chirps growing more urgent in tone, the firelizard pushing images of Mojo at him, where oh where was her partner in crime!

[Lotty]

Curiously enough, K'sel was headed to the quieter parts of the Weyr for much the same reasons that A'emi had. Sure, he wasn't even close to taking up such a zen form as his former compadre but the sense still remained that he needed to get away from the workings of people, the hustle and bustle, the general grind of a daily life that resembled little of what he had gotten to know in the past couple of turns. It seemed that the novelty of the civility was wearing thin and old habits did not leave when his wavy dark locks were cut into social compliance or scruff was limited to an early evening shadow. In short, it was probably best for his sanity - and Nephele's, bless her heart - for him to jettison to new adventures, if even only for the day.

Turning a corner, he just about went into cardiac arrest as the sound of wings beating spiked his hair onto their ends. His immediate assumption of course was that a succubus of some sort had taken a fancy to him and was going to have her way with his body before sucking him dry... of his blood or... yes his blood. His second guess was that these harpy monsters the Burimyuans had spoken of were coming to descend on him, but as adept as his hearing had become, he knew the pitter patter against the still air belonged to something much more delicate and dainty.... so bring on the she-devil.

Unfortunately it was just a Darkling, pressing her face against his and somewhat obscuring his sight. So all in all his guesses were close enough. It at least meant an A'emi was nearby, and he'd been meaning to run into the greenrider since he heard of his arrival. What exactly they would talk about he didn't know, but he presumed that there were something of stories to share since the day they all split in the woods.

Lightly nudging the green out of his way with a featherlight touch - it was more of a petting to distract than anything - he glanced down the see the almighty wise yogi already waiting for his arrival. What was this now? Should he begin chanting "ohm?" If so would a smirk suffice instead? The brownrider rumbled something of a dark chuckle, "I briefly thought the same of your flitter...." he turned to meet eye to eye with the creature before addressing her directly, "I'm sure Mojo is somewhere around...." Which sure enough he was, materializing first with a strange chatter before taking a form onto the rider's opposing shoulder and using his long tail to reach behind his bonded and tap Darkling on the back. Of course sneaky firelizards had to be sneaky.

"Anyway, as much as committing to some psychic group think, and astrally projecting myself to some higher level of ass temperature understanding sounds tempting, I'll have to pass on this for now. Once you go lizard licking, you just don't go back..." he was nonetheless in for just about anything else, "So I take it that this is a regular activity you have taken up?"

[Avu]

“Darkling is, debatably, a monster,” A’emi answered agreeably, rearranging his legs into their previous crossed position and propping his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together and dropping his chin onto his knuckles as he peered at K’sel interestedly. He looked distinctly less hobo-esque than A’emi remembered him, which was probably a good thing because as far as he could remember he had refrained from hitting on K’sel because scrawny hobos had never been his thing. Not that he could now, anyway, apparently he had a girlfriend now. What was the world coming to. He blinked at Mojo’s appearance idly, and, as Darkling chirped in bright, delighted surprise and promptly tried to crawl over K’sel’s head to get to Mojo, said calmly, “I told you quitting wasn’t going to work, didn’t I?”

He settled his hands into what he thought was an appropriate meditation position on his knees, middle finger and thumb making a circle, and offered an entirely halfhearted, “Ohmmmm? No. I’ve actually turned my back from the ways of the Masterful Ones, I just couldn’t break the lizard addiction and they weren’t all too fond of that, see.” He nodded solemnly, and then added, “Darkling, you’re messing up his beeaaautiful civilized person haircut, quit it, go badger Mojo in someone else’s hair.”

And, in a fit of complete dignity, A’emi flapped one hand uselessly in K’sel and Darkling’s general direction, never mind that he could reach neither of them and didn’t actually try either. But the gesture, accompanied by the words, seemed to be enough; Darkling twittered amusedly, pawing K’sel’s hair back into a rumpled semblance of what it had once been before she promptly used his head as a springboard and looped over Mojo as close as she possibly could, brushing her wing over his back playfully and then beginning a lazy series of loop-de-loops in the air down the hallway towards A’emi, twittering at Mojo.

“I came down here monster-hunting,” A’emi added, cheerfully making it up as he went, “I thought to win back my honor in the eyes of the world I would slay the monster that has been lurking in the depths of this…uh, labyrinth, so here I am. Trying to look innocent and helpless to lure it out. I look like bait, don’t I?”

[Lotty]

Monster indeed, the brownrider's eyes rolled up until the pupils touched his upper lid as he tried to spy the green firelizard shuffle from his shoulder, onto his head, and over to his own pet resting on the other side. Luckily the creatures didn't weigh all too much, or he would be feeling distinctly lopsided. This was especially true considering that his newest addition to the clan, blue Slainte, was missing from his traditional spot wrapped around his bicep. That particular little brat was actually busy recovering from a pretty massive hangover and no for the record K'sel never imagined that he would have to explain one of his pet's absence by way of alcoholism.

His sights falling back onto the meditating mystic before him he immediately felt his body sink in a moment of resignation, "Civilized...ugh..." way to go A'emi, poking at an insecurity. Finding himself completely unable to articulate any clever reason for sheering his hair up and away from his shoulders the man instead touched on the truth, explaining, "little sacrifices, sometimes you have to make them... Just had it cut this week, I've yet to find out if there was any sort of Samson like powers associated with my hair," again with his little story time references. Sometimes he wondered if his allusions were lost on others, but A'emi had never seemed to have any hang ups with his odd language in the past, "If so I'm screwed, that was two turns of work..."

Luckily the conversation was turning away from the subject of tame versus wily hair, and Darkling, even though she hardly needed to, was busy replacing the mussed locks into their former directions before she too apparently grew bored enough of the sight of domestication. It wasn't much longer before Mojo sprang off K'sel's shoulder in reply, somersaulting once or twice in his midair chase after his favorite partner in crime. Where should they reek havoc next he wondered, trilling at her in a questioning manner.

"Honor A'emi? Whatever are you trying to do earning it back? I wasn't aware that you had a whole bunch of it to begin with," not that he really thought anyone did. Most people are far as he was concerned, just talked the talk, "Anyway, yes, monster hunting... I suppose you do look like prey, but I don't recall us ever using each other as bait - successfully - during our glory days on the run..." his voice trailed off as he considered the past, the last few months before all of them managed to part ways, "Unless this is a special technique that you learned when you were off on your own, where ever it was that you were." He seemed to mimic the greenrider's earlier gesture, using his hand in a flourished dismissal. Chit chat wasn't really as interesting as this proposal of adventure anyway; which is exactly what K'sel had interpreted the statement to be.

Nudging A'emi in the leg with the toe of his boot he said, "I think we should take a walk and let that evil entity just stumble upon us. What's the worst than can happen, we get eaten?" As if they didn't deal with that danger before in the form of wild felines.

[Avu]

Darkling’s immediate response to Mojo joining her was to perform an exaggerated spiral, flipping herself in a delighted arc through the air. She hadn’t actually planned out anything they could do yet, but they’d get there, she promised on a brightly amused hum, and then went between. She reemerged below and behind Mojo, dipping to playfully nip at his tail, and coiled higher in the unfortunately limiting hallway, and tilted her head conspiratorially towards A’emi and K’sel. Could start small, couldn’t they, and Theirs were soooo conveniently already here and doing their monster-hunting thing…curving in to trail her wing over Mojo’s spine, they could be monsters, couldn’t they.

A’emi tilted his head to gravely inspect K’sel’s new look, and finally nodded in solemn approval. “Powers included it’d probably just be an even better sacrifice,” he concluded, and levered himself into a standing position in a sort of halfway-elegant scramble at the brownrider’s words and suggestion. “Generally being prey tends to work better when there’s another half of a plan hanging around somewhere,” he pointed out, deciding it was better for his ego to pretend he hadn’t heard that jab at his honor, not least because he didn’t actually believe he had honor either.

“Eaten,” he agreed, slipping his hands into his pockets and starting down the hallway, ignoring Darkling and Mojo except for when he had to duck under them. “Possessed. Tortured. Killed. You know. Normal stuff like that.” A’emi wrinkled his nose at K’sel, offered a winning smile. “If we’re gonna do this, we’ve got to do it properly…that last ghosthunting thing was sort of a mess. We should be prepared this time. Black thread, rosemary, the whole nine yards, y’know?” He tilted his head to scan the hallway ahead of them somberly. “Of course,” he added, “I’m sure you still carry all that necessary stuff around…”

Seeing how he, you know, didn’t, mostly because all he’d been carrying around lately had been his stiletto and a belt knife and sometimes a few pieces of lint just because, and before that that ten of spades he had given to M’kai. He ran his fingers through his pockets just in case, and didn’t even bother resurfacing; they were completely empty except for a few dubious crumbs A’emi attributed to Darkling’s affection for treats. She was spoiled, what could he say. “What say we set up camp in the darkest corner we can find and figure out what’s going down…”

[Lotty]

Oh how Mojo adored Darkling so... the green was certainly the best co-conspirator and generally his favorite firelizard to be around. Eyesore and Slainte were tolerable at best, the former too often taking offense to his antics and the latter too drunk to even acknowledge when he was being poked at. Then there was the brood that he lived with, including Charming, Mother, and Sweetheart. They were all fine he supposed, but served as far too easy targets... and being the artiste that he was with his work, he much preferred a challenge. That in mind, the dark bronze chittered as the green streaked her wing along his back and flipped again briefly as he took the lead going down the hallway to it's darker corners. If they hide right and stalk theirs, they can pop out at the right time? Or no! Leave some clues along the way and lead them right into a trap!

Now what were some monster-clues they could pepper around for their curious little pets?

Possessed. Tortured. Killed. Well possession wouldn't be too bad if they were aware that they were actively being controlled he supposed, though the concept of it generally was unattractive. Torture was a little more distasteful but then he didn't imagine a monster doing this... the creature in his mind was much more animalistic and unfortunately humans seemed to be the only creature on the planet who actively did such a thing. Yes, it was quite obvious that the young man was actively thinking through hypothetical questions about a thing of - essentially - folklore, while still firmly dubious about mystical aura given to the fat lump Faranth.

Nodding his head as A'emi checked off the list of supplies, the brownrider rubbed his now scruffless chin and paced briefly commenting, "We should probably brun a bundle of sage too, to smudge the halls and drive out the spirits too..." Was he joking? Surely... probably... It was hard to say since he too was patting down his pockets. Accustomed as he was to toting his entire life on his person he did have quite a few handy things with him. His hunting knife for one as well as a few smaller blades. He found a piece of flint too for fire starting, but he couldn't claim to have any thread for navigating their labyrinth.

"I'm apparently fresh out of ghost hunting supplies. We should really invest in a kit. That being said I can still cast a protection spell over us, it should keep us safe in our hiding spot," and wouldn't you know it, the brownrider did his best imitation of a mystic, making a whirring sound buzz through his teeth as he closed his eyes and lifted an invisible shield over the two of them. Topping off the joke he opened his eyes and faked some further seriousness, "Alright, we are safe... tally ho A'emi!"

[Avu]

Darkling purred conspiratorially, eyes vividly blue with her excitement, and she looped once more around Mojo before she coiled her wings around herself and latched onto a tiny jut in the walls, purportedly for hanging glowbaskets, curling her body around it and pressing herself silently against the wall to ponder this dilemma. Hmm…she didn’t suppose Mojo knew where they could find tomato sauce to make blood with, did he? The kitchens? They could go and be back before Theirs even knew they were gone, look how distracted they were with their strange human gesturing…they could smear tomato sauce on the walls, yes? Or they could get raw scraps of meat and drop them on the ground or see if they could find torn up clothing or drop a half-dimmed glow in a dusty corner or…any number of things really.

It had been much too long since Darkling had really pulled of anything quite this involved—it was too easy to scare people just by jumping out at them or shrieking at them and this was fun, it was so much more fun but it required such a specific situation. Pity they couldn’t do it all, unless they were very fast, wasn’t it? She tilted her head hopefully at Mojo, purred a low tentative question. Could they, and not miss the reaction it got them?

“Oh, yes,” A’emi replied, perfectly bland, raising an eyebrow at K’sel, “How convenient. Paranormal investigations without proper supplies are bound to be screwed six ways to Sunday, technically we should restock and come up with a plan before we do anything stupid but…” He tilted his head, pursing his lips in complete solemnity at K’sel’s makeshift spell, contemplating the invisible shield between them and the forces of evil. “I suppose that since you’ve polished up on your protective spells we may as well take advantage of what we’ve got…does it move with us? C’mon,” he added without waiting for an actual reply (of course their invisible imaginary protective shield moved with them) and hooked a finger at K’sel.

“No doubt the magical residue of your spell will attract them soon enough.” He shuffled down the hallway, the scrape of his boots echoing in the dim silence. (Funny—he still didn’t believe in ghosts of this particular sort but he noticed with a sort of wry amusement that his pulse was reacting, imagined the adrenaline in his system picking up its pace. Good. It’d been too long since anything had happened. A decent ghoul or ghost or monster that went bump in the night might make a pleasant sort of change.) A’emi reached out to touch the wall, adding in a low whisper, “Feel that?”

(He would be surprised if K’sel did, because he sure didn’t. But it was okay; lie until it was true. He could do that.)

[Lotty]

Yes, yes, yes... good. A few well placed thoughts into theirs couldn't hurt a bit either. Mojo knew he had the best of image work, it couldn't be too hard to "see" some suspicious scratchmarks and send the sight along to His could it? Ah, well that could be done soon enough. First things first was grabbing the clues, and the bronze didn't think it would take long enough for them to miss out on any of their fun... he was sure to convince Darkling of that with an empathic wave of warmth. With a beckoning motion then he led his green between first to the lower caverns wash rooms, in an attempt to find a perfectly dirty and smelly rag of a shirt. It had to be rather pungent after all, to hide the more pleasant smell of the tomato sauce they would need. Finding one, the bronze landed on it, talons first as to poke some good holes in it before taking a bite and ripppppp! Bunching the shirt then into his paws, the large firelizard winged up with a delighted creel before teleporting again to the kitchens... now where could be find some supplies hmmm?

Meanwhile two perfectly sane and rational adventurers the crazies were in action...

"Indeed... hopefully the powerful aura left in our wake won't supply the creature with any extra energy..." the reply was on the verge of dead pan, just a twinge of expression to indicate the bemused sort of smile he was hiding behind the serious facade, "if only I had some brick dust... would have worked without having to use my powers.." just in case you know, it was one of those entities that fed off magical essences. Luckily, in K'sel's very expert opinion, he suspected that the creature was more mortal than anything. As such it required very earthly type things to survive such as food... shelter. In short it wanted blood not spirit power, so at very least when or rather if found dead in the weeks to come he would be nothing but the left overs of blood and pulp as opposed to some kind of shocked zombie.

Following A'emi along, he tried not to bump into his companion, ever so thankful that the blonde's head was rather reflective because shit man, did they even have a proper form of light other than these sad excuses for glows hanging around? When the greenrider paused to touch the walls, it was the silencing of the boots that actually kept him from colliding, and K'sel stopped short with a quick motion of the feet to turn and consider the wall. Soon the brownrider too was reaching up, only to find nothing but the slick smooth stone - even and polished better than Old Selenitas ever claimed to be. Clearly, the answer to the other man's question was running through K'sel's head and it was a definite and sure no. That however wasn't a very fun answer. He wanted there to be something so desperately that he would live the lie.

Pulling his hand away he then moved to press his ear against the wall, as his fingertips were primed again on the smooth stone, each one lifting off as he pretended to count... "Vibrations. There is movement in this tunnel system...." he counted again, "We are minutes behind it...." then in a low ominous tone he added, "what ever 'it" is..."

[Avu]

Darkling purred, launching after Mojo without hesitation and twisting to follow him between, trusting; partners-in-crime meant they exempted each other from pranks, after all, yes? Besides, Theirs made such easy targets. The green dove after Mojo, plucking up a sock in her hind claws and catching at the already hole-spotted fabric with her front claws, shredding it but loathe to apply teeth. That was yucky, the smell was disgusting enough already that she didn’t feel the need to taste it too. She wound her tail around some of the looser threads to follow Mojo to the kitchens, and this time went straight for to work, dodging past a cook (who seemed bewildered, appropriately, at the appearance of not only two firelizards but also dirty laundry) to a cooling pot of sauce.

Not tomato but reddish-brown all the same, Darkling narrowed green eyes at Mojo challengingly before she dove straight for it, twisting sharply between as soon as the dirty sock made contact with the sauce. She reappeared out of the cook’s immediate ladle range near the ceiling of the kitchens, twittering in amusement, the sauce dripping slowly from the torn-up sock. Go on, after this they should get to Theirs and start with the cold wind drafts or something; it was a good thing they had wings…

“Oh good,” A’emi said flatly, and if one of them didn’t start putting more emotion in their words they were going to be mistaken for Pern’s first robots by anyone passing by, “Now you think of brick dust. This is the kind of beginner mistake we really can’t afford, you know.” He heaved a melodramatic sigh, and then shook his head. “Never mind, we’ll just have to replenish our supplies…later, providing we get out of this alive. And I’m going to just go ahead and say right now if we die and have to face all those ghosts from last time I’m going to have to strangle you.” He paused, and then fell silent as K’sel pretended to listen to the wall, keeping his fingertips pressed against the smooth stonework.

“Or,” he countered, raising one eyebrow as he exchanged a glance with K’sel solemnly, “It’s behind us. Either way your magical vibrations”—a pause as he reconsidered the wording and actually bit his tongue to keep from laughing and ruining it, “Have, um, probably already reached it. Or it’s heard us. So. While we still have the element of surprise at least a little we should try and find it, it won’t be expecting us to attack first, I bet.” Actually, he was willing to bet ‘it’ wouldn’t be expecting anything at all, what with the fact that it didn’t really exist. But. Details. Really. He blinked—eyes were adjusted to the dark by now—and still he stared for a minute, puzzled, into the darkness. So sure there wasn’t anything there but…

Who knew. There was a real monster lurking somewhere, after all.

[Lotty]

Mojo, now in the kitchens, hovered for a moment in his easy, near-levitation; circling around the bubbling sauce pot and watching Darkling go ahead and dip the sock into the red, pulpy, goop. Hopefully nobody was planning on taste testing the sauce anytime soon, because the tomato puree was going to have a distinct funk to it now. Taking his turn after the green, the bronze dropped his shirt into the kettle and chortled in a laughing manner at the swung spoons swooping in all around him. Cute - as far as the trickster was concerned, but before the firelizard could meet the backside of a wooden stir stick, the large shadow floated over to snatch up his torn shirt before it could be fully immersed, and shot a look briefly to his partner in crime. They should probably book it now shouldn't they?

Another cook approached with a tuber sack in the intention to net the pair of them.... yeah, yeah, the message was clear. They weren't wanted in these parts. With an affirmative nod, the bronze slipped through the void only to re-emerge back into the recesses of the creepy crawly cavernous hallways that Theirs had decided to play in. Here... it was the perfect place to drop off some evidence, and the bronze loosened his claws and let the shirt drop to the ground; the wet sauce still dripping from the cloth making a splat sound in the process. This deed done the flitter took it upon himself to follow Darkling's suggestions and immediately took off towards his brownriding meal ticket, all the while doing his best to feign some worry. There was after all a big scary thing eating people and leaving their laundry behind after all!

Magical vibrations? Bah, nothing truly magical about them... it was just his super human ability to sense to movements of other creatures. Obviously his senses were just keen enough to pick up on these factors. Before K'sel could haughtily explain this crazy concept, he was distracted by the other man's stare out into the darkness of the tunnel ahead of them. With a couple of steps forward, he too was soon drawn in to the pure blackness and the mystique of the unknown. In all honesty... he thought to himself, there can't logically, reasonably be anything down there.... It is as real as Faranth's ghost... Shaking his head in confirmation he looked over at the greenrider right when his own bonded reappeared from who knows where to circle around his head a few times in distress.

Oh the humanity! Messy bloody things! Scratches in the dark! Oh K'sel you must simply go forth and investigate!

Raising his hands, the brownrider managed to pull down his bronze troublemaker into his grasps, finding it suspiciously easy to cradle the creature in his arms and against his chest, "What the shit you crazy thing... you're acting a fool..." Mojo just buried his face and transmitted more visions of a blurred and dark manner, only a crimson red that spotted the ground sticking out vividly. Well... if that wasn't the darndest thing? K'sel screwed his face up and after a moments contemplation asked A'emi, "Is your monster dysfunctional too?" There was only one way to find out... and with that thought he let Mojo go to cling to his clothes on his own accord. For the rider's part he was going to sauter right into the darkness they once stalled in front of. Saunter. Not jog. He didn't want to look like he was trying too hard.

[Avu]

Defiantly she lingered after Mojo vanished, sock clutched in her paws, chirruping cheekily at the sack-bearing cook. She could spare just oooone minute to…a lunge; Darkling let her eyes flash vividly shocked yellows and vanished between, only to reemerge right behind the cook. Her claws, saucy sock and all, hooked onto the cook’s shoulder, and the green flounced playfully off of her, leaving behind an endearing streak of red on the woman’s cheek with a farewell chirp before she followed Mojo at last, content with the chaos-in-passing and entirely too gleefully ready for even more chaos to begin.

She swung herself into a fast mid-air spiral in the middle of the hallways, splattering sauce onto the walls and floor, and dropped her smelly laundry with an oozing splat onto the floor to drag it across the ground a ways for effect. A pity Mojo had already gone on to Stage II of their plan, but he’d see it later; she rucked up the shirt he had left behind just a little more and then sprang after the bronze, playing a wonderful game of catch-up.

A’emi blinked again at the darkness, tilting his head and squinting as if that improve his night-vision (he had given actual thought to wearing an eye-patch, solely for the fact that it would get him used to the darkness in one eye, and even if that’d throw off his depth perception, getting used to it early was better—but that wasn’t really helpful now). And then proceeded to almost jump out of his skin at Mojo’s reappearance, swaying as he watched the bronze in bemused confusion; his distress was clear, but…what?

K’sel’s question made him blink, and his brow furrowed as he licked his lips and mentally reached out for Darkling—only to immediately sway again as he was met with an explosion of blood on the walls and the dark shrinking in around her and please—“Oh fuck,” A’emi answered, entirely unpromising; the physiological reaction to Darkling’s fear had him blinking sharply, licking dry lips, looping his fingers around the handle of his knife in wary preparation. “I—”

Whatever he was, he never got to say, since it was then that Darkling emerged from between to dive-bomb him, earning a startled, echoing yelp from A’emi as he almost drew on her instinctively. Darkling slithered directly into his shirt, buried her head against his throat, and keened in low, shivering panic. Flashes of images, broadcasted, blood smears and did they hear that, run run run it was coming, please please go—

“Shut up,” A’emi hissed, clamping his free hand over the firelizard lump in his shirt and stepping warily after K’sel. He wasn’t so eager as to run forward blindly, after all apparently there was blood. Slipping and concussing himself would be just perfect. “See anything?” A pause, and he squinted dubiously. “Hear anything? I don’t.”

Darkling immediately failed spectacularly at shutting up, uttering a soft keen. How could they not hear that?!

[Lotty]

For a moment as His was wonderfully distracted by bumbling around in the dark, the bronze managed to take a peek over at his partner. Still clinging to the front of K'sel's shirt him, he scurried up with the liberal aid of his claws as to pop his head up over the brownrider's shoulder. From there he looked over to Darkling, delighted to see that she was playing up her fright every bit as well as he expected her to. If the swirling rushes of emotion that painted his eyes could form into little hearts he would have very much done so...

He was distracted though by the grumblings of his two legged ride. Apparently those steps taken right up his chest left a few too many scratches and the man was not one to just let something go, "For the love of ugly fat golds Mojo lay off with your daggers will you?" K'sel began to rub at the irritated skin, before looking down in a squint to follow the tracks of what he assumed must be blood. What else could it be aside from some eccentric artist running around trying to paint the weyr red? Step by step, he neared the firelizard's trap, having caught sight of a rumpled bit of something up ahead. With a brief wave he beckoned to A'emi, a note of gravitas leaked into his voice that was missing earlier, "So uhm, I'm going to check that thing out up ahead.... I trust that if nothing else you will have my back in so far as screaming if something is about to attack me?"

Approaching the lump that he now identified as a shirt, a bloody torn up shirt at that, he crouched down and pulled out a small knife with which to poke and prod at the mutilated cloth only for Mojo at that moment to decide hopping off of his shoulder was just a brilliant idea. With a plop, the firelizard rolled away from his bonded to land in a puddle of tomato sauce blood, flicking up a small smattering onto the rider's own clothing and face. With a sudden jerk, K'sel pulled away to his full height groaning, "Fuuuuck! Damn it!" Ignoring the fact that the slimy stuff was suspiciously chunky - it was just bits of flesh you know - the young man immediately went about cleaning the horror scene off of his face with his sleeve, it was about then when the thought occurred to him that if he made it back to his weyr... Nephele was going to be pissed to see him covered in blood.

With some small degree of malice, the rider took again to the use of his knife, kabobbing the shirt as Mojo launched into the air to twirl around again nervously. Holding up the red stained garment, he suddenly sent it A'emi's way with a flick of his wrist. Hey, if he was going to be dirtied up, the greenrider better too. "Add it to the evidence locker..."

[Avu]

Please, please don’t go in there, Darkling added, despairingly coiling her tail as far around A’emi’s ribs as she could manage, nuzzling her entire body against the curve of collarbone and throat. The firelizard shivered her wings as A’emi tucked his palm flat around her back, flicking a quick glance at Mojo and offering the bronze a flash of electric blue in her gaze and an open-mouthed, silent grin—a wide splitting ha ha at the expense of Theirs. And wasn’t it nice that all they had to do now was push and pull in the right ways and she was just so comfortable all cozied up to Hers like this. She cautiously hooked her claws into the fabric of A’emi’s shirt, offered a soft keen, gaze shading back towards orange-yellow. Softer, her broadcasting, now. Let them think through it, scare themselves thoroughly, yes?

“Stop it,” A’emi hissed at her, genuine irritation slipping into his tones. The only thing worse than having a monster hanging around was having a monster hanging around while a firelizard’s fear had his stomach in knots. Darkling obediently went even quieter, her mind slipping away from his even as her clinging tightened. The physical he could accept (and ignore) so he proceeded in K’sel’s wake softly, eyes flicking automatically to a smear of dark red on the ground. A half-bemused sound caught in his throat, and he rocked forward to listen to K’sel, tilting his head to consider and then snorting dryly, “Screaming is pretty unmanly but I’ll yell as loud as you need…”

He watched as K’sel went towards a rumple of distressed-looking something on the ground, and knelt carefully by a streak of the red, licking his thumb and rubbing the stone, leaving Darkling to her own devices of clinging. The firelizard thrashed, creeing in distress before she managed to wrap her tail half around his bicep and latch over his shoulder, half-winding her body around his neck. The red smeared under his thumb, and he squinted at the stonework, slowly uncurling back into a standing position, only to freeze in an awkward halfway-up position at K’sel’s beautifully eloquent little string of curses. He didn’t seem to be being eaten alive or anything, though, so A’emi straightened and stepped towards him, pulling out his knife as he went, “Hey, wh—”

The words dissolved into a startled mmph! of protest that rapidly became “Aargh fucking asshole, shit” at the sock that splatted in a grotesque red splatter against his hip and slid in a pathetic smear down his thigh. A’emi fumbled it for a minute before he caught it, effectively coating his hands with gross.

“My crotch is not the evidence locker,” he eventually grumbled sourly, because not even A’emi was thrilled by a handful of ripped up fabric and red, congealing goop dripping through his fingers and down his wrists. “What is this shit anyway, is this actually pieces of someone? That’s disgusting.” A pause, as he actually considered the possibility, absently smearing a layer of it between his fingers. It didn’t feel quite right but it was cold and he’d never really had cause to figure out what blood felt like after it was cold, really, “Who’s gone missing lately? Someone really annoying, I hope.”

[Lotty]

So. Apparently A'emi's crotch was not the evidence locker.

K'sel in that short span forgot the fact they were monster hunting long enough for the corners of his mouth to lift up unevenly into a crooked smile. It was through a plainly amused expression, one specked still with red spots, that he asked, "So your ass? Is it your ass that is the evidence locker?" He rocked his body to the side, pretending to try and catch a glimpse of the greenrider's rear end as if there was a sign there that read: deposit here. Juvenile butt jokes were always appropriate, and there was no reason to try and deny it. Of course his partner wasn't likely to appreciate the comment, but when they both walked out to fresh air and sunlight it would surely dawn on the both of them as being the right thing to say.

Oddly enough, K'sel was finding himself hard pressed to think of any mutual acquaintances that he despised enough to wish them dead. It usually wasn't very hard to receive such a designation from the temperamental rider, but he'd been removed from most people so long that he wasn't sure that he knew many by name much less enough to hate. The name he spat out then became the first he thought of off of the top of his head, "You know I haven't seen my brother in a while. But then, if that..." he examined the garment his flung again briefly. He didn't imagine it's initial color being anything other than white, "thing... belong to the snot it's bright flowery colors would surely still shine right through all that blood.... human pulp stuff all over it."

Mojo creeled again. This was frustrating now that theirs somehow found it appropriate to joke around whilst in the proverbial dangerzone. Darkling and he must certainly do something about this, and he gave her another conspiratorial glance. Maybe they should move on to the final phase yes? Two sets of wings could set off a bit of a draft, and the right noises could lead them in further to their own demise! Muwahaha! The large bronze flittered around K'sel's head before disappearing with such speed as to leave a miserable dropping feeling in the brownrider's guts. Ugh. This whole being emotionally connected thing was growing to be an issue, and it didn't help that the distress summoning the rest of the man's fair; Eyesore dropping down to attempt to chatter some sense into him while Slainte appeared to cling his bicep and beg.... don't go, don't go, don't go!

"Do you hear that movement down there?" K'sel asked after a moment. He needed confirmation that the whole world wasn't going crazy around him.

[Avu]

Okay.

If there was a monster lurking around the corner then he should very well take a moment to appreciate K’sel’s offbeat sense of humor, seeing how it might be the last joke he got to hear. Although frankly that was sort of pathetically sad in itself, because c’mon. It was a joke about his ass. Still he ran with it with a sort of morbid fascination and resignation, twisting to show off his ass with a deliberately girly flounce and offering with completely overdone seductiveness, “Well I guess that depends what you’re calling evidence, doesn’t it hotshot…” A flutter of his eyelashes, likely invisible in the darkness, to top it off, before he relapsed into semi-seriousness; just in case how seriously he took this actually made a difference in his near future he’d like to think he put at least some effort into it.

“Fabulous,” he said, “I have handfuls of human pulp.” It should worry him more, A’emi knew, but he was still deliberately treating it like a joke because the idea of an actual monster that had actually left them a raggedy pulpy bloody shirt was just straight-up nasty. He liked to try to keep some modicum of sanity in times of stress like this. “I—” Broke off as Mojo vanished and Darkling followed with a sound very much like a low cry of despair half a second later, and the rest of K’sel’s little firelizard fair appeared. A’emi watched them, mutely uncurling his hand from the spot where Darkling had been, and pressed his fingers against his knife cautiously.

“Well fuck,” he said softly, tilting his head to try and listen, “Yeah? There a leak someone down there? It’s like wind.” Or something distinctly more supernatural, ghosts and the like, but A’emi wasn’t really actually going to think down that line right now. “Hey. Hey hey hey, check that out, is that underwear?” He gestured to the other scrap of red-stained fabric, squinting to see. “Or…no. Sock. That’s a sock. Without…a foot. Holdup a minute, I’m gonna have to wake Kyr so she knows what my will looks like, she can tell Dsoleth before I die…” He held up one hand jokingly, although he suspected it would’ve been much less threatening a gesture had he not also been holding his knife in that hand.

A pause as he reached for the green’s mind, a decidedly surface touch intended not to wake her up but to make sure she was definitely asleep; A’emi didn’t need a Kyrahth panicking on him as well as Darkling, although that mindmate’s absence had left him with a decided chill even more than her fear had.

“Okay…onward to monster.”