Closed [Quarters] But it is so cute

[Pulren Marsh]

Satisfied with Bitzer's response and truly tickled by Noven's taunts of the stoic Keene, Pulren found himself laughing out loud a bit. It was all very surreal, the gibbats as odd as they were and the bouncing fun action between the creatures and Scars, as well as Keene. It was all so very strange that laughing was just about the only response that Pulren had to the entire situation.

He had been living in a closet, basically, running around on an island inhabited by his least favorite race of creature, the Nuit. Horrors and mind bending plant life were everywhere, so why not four eyed bouncing canines? Everything made sense and nothing would ever be taboo. Sunberth would seem even more drab when they returned to it, so he could give Sahova that much credit, anyway. Bringing his attention back to the quarry, he noticed that the one he thought he had some kind of bond now was merely staring at the wall above him. Maybe. Who the petch could tell with those eyes? Standing and brushing himself off, he just cocked his head and looked at them.

Closing his door behind with a stern thud and click, he looked at the others. "I'm certainly not letting one gt in my closet and shyke in it. Revolting. Nuits don't really need water and I'm not wasting the spare to wash their droppings off." Now he would be the jumping predator, as he quickly sprang with one foot to the other wall, making a loud yelp as he did so. It sent the pack into a hopping frenzy and he laughed hysterically. "Gods, how did I get into such a place in life?" He could only cackle and hop, joining in the frolic and madness of the event, giving into it. Why not? that seemed to be the very essence of what to do in Sahova.

[Keene Ward]

Bitzer seemed to be the most sensible of the Scars. While Keene didn't require help, per say, he didn't refuse her shuffling advance as she assured him she would remedy his current predicament. Busied himself with staring down the challenging stares of the little creatures, their tongues lolling a little yips and growls calling out to each other. The other two animals that tugged on his boot were, more or less, ignored as the gentle pull of their tiny teeth had become a rhythmic meter. "Stay. Stay where you are." Keene held a hand out to signal that the dogs were to remain where they were. Instead, they seemed to take it as an invitation and wiggled their rumps before launching into the air. The hand was quickly pulled back to guard his face as the dogs crashed into them, bouncing off and darting around the hall in a mess of barking and scraping of claws on stone. Lowering his guard, Keene's icy gaze regarded the scene with a solid frown. He wondered what caused the sudden infestation, fully aware that the beasts were completely capable of such a feat, though not necessarily quite as capable to pull it off on their own.

He looked up as he heard a crashing thud followed by a squeak from one of the beast father down the hall. Noven sat on the ground, a wiggling bundle in his arms and a wide, stupid grin on his face. Keene found it a bit disconcerting to see how strangely fitting the expression sat on the man's features. Noven's following fit of laughter at Keene's current predicament was received with a cold stare, though a slight softening of the frown. While he didn't find anything about the invasion of the Gibbats to be particularly entertaining nor something to laugh about, he supposed that it was good enough for him that the Scars seemed to be glad for the respite. The island was a harsh place, and it was not meant for the living, especially those who were set upon living actual lives. Sighing, he resigned himself to Noven's jeer, though he wasn't entirely sure why they hadn't thought to use bait of any kind in the first place. He'd never been fond of animals, but it seemed most creatures tended to be fond of him. He wasn't sure why, but he knew that it was nothing he wanted. Had he the ability to pass the curse onto someone else more willing - or unwilling for that matter - he would have done so without a second thought. A nip at his calf sent a little prick of pain through his nerves to remind him he was currently in a one sided war with the beasts of the wilds.

Before he could address the latest culprit of inflicting unwanted attention, Palaren began leaping about and shouting, playing into the dog's game with a whole hearted abandon that Keene found incredibly odd. The little animals seemed tickled to have infected another species with their dog-like disposition and began bounding around him, barking wildly and waving their tails just out of reach of the man before he dove into them, spreading them into an excited mess of dashing paws and lolling tongues. Keene turned to Fallon, who had managed to extract one of the creatures from his leg. "I believe your company has gone mad, Lady Redwulf." To the Scars' benefit, however, Palaren's wild antics had attracted most of the dogs over to him and away from the stony initiate, making his life all the more easier. The two that remained had laid down at his feet, one draped itself over his foot, and the other wrapped itself around his heel. He shifted to try to remove them, but their little growls intimated that he would be bit if he tried anything else. Without being able to just blast them away with reimancy, Keene was stuck with them. He shook his head, regarding the chaos before him mixed with the nearly overwhelming scent of happy animal, the blankness to his gaze returning as he tried to understand what exactly the others were doing and coming up with very little.

[Fallon]

The Gibbat pup looked at her with its four blinking eyes, that moment of careful consideration as it ogled at her, tiny fangs still gripping onto the trouser leg. That was, at least until she put that sight pressure down once more. Wriggling, it gave a thrash in her hands, the smallest of growls of defiance as she cooed at it, and heard the raucous laughter of Noven from behind. By the sounds of things he had managed to capture one of the creatures, the yapping that carried with it gave that suggestion. More so as the call came their way. But, Fallon regardless continued her gentle tugging, pulling and teasing it off. Least, until Pulren once more returned into the fray. Chaos came after that.

The pup she was holding onto let go, and both heads seemed to snap around to ogle at him with confusion, the long ears twitching and the stub of a tail waggling madly. Even the tongue seemed to loll as her other companion simply threw himself about as the cacophony drew on around them. Some scattered, forms bounding off to a safe distance to watch with interest, whilst the others seemed to only yap in amusement of the antics of the silly humans. Which they were, in honesty. What grown adults would willingly dive about a citadel of the dead in an attempt to catch creatures due to their cuteness?

Obviously, the members of the Scars.

Regardless, the pup having now let go of Keene Fallon reeled it in close, the defiant squeaks and the want to gnaw something being more than apparent. Head whipping round, it pawed defiantly at her hands before it came in range of her shirt. It was from there the teeth promptly latched onto her collar, and gripped onto the rest of the fabric with its tiny claws. Fallon released a juddering cackle, lips peeling back in amusement as she let it be - the tips of the digits gently stroking at the soft downy fur and the closer inspection was allowed. Eyes narrowed she watched the behaviour, canine like and full of curiosity. Young too, she could compare it to a small kitten with the level of playfulness. Her eyes returned to the struggling form of Keene, her eyebrow raising as she considered them, the fingers of her free hand now hovering over ever closer to one of the ones that had taken up rest upon his feet. For the most part, she had noted, the others had bounded off towards Pulren without a second thought. There was a smirk however to Keene's dry comment.

"Keene, you will realise after a while that my company has not gone mad. But have, in fact, always been mad," she gave a snort, "You've got to be to come to this island willingly." Her lip gave a curl, her fingers wiggling tauntingly to one with a large red plume for a tail. There had to be some reason for this, something to signify the differences. Unless they were purely there due to inheritance. Regardless she continued, reaching out and prodding it in the face, the annoyed growl rumbling forth. So, she prodded again.

The jaws snapped at her biting onto the extended fingers and refusing to let go - even as she recoiled with an angry, pained shout and dragged the creature with her. The blue eyes were bright, the tail wagging madly whilst the other that was cupped to her barked angrily at the other - almost in scorn for such behaviour. Even as she found herself sitting back onto her rear did the attached still grip on, paws and legs this time sinking into the sleeve, and the jaws nipping. And all Fallon could do was sit there wincing, finally coming to some semblance of conclusion about the creatures - they definitely had some dog in them. She weakly flailed the biting dog at her lap, "Gods, ouch, stop, ouch. Bad! No! Stop. Stop it."

[Noven]

Nov watched the others for a moment, particularly Palaren, who was jumping about and sending more dogs into even greater frenzies. Then he took a deep breath and carefully shifted his left hand to lift up one of the folds of his bundle.

Three pearly, blue orbs stared up at him from the swaddle of fabric. The merc could feel his captive wagging its tail, limbs tensed as though ready to pounce. Glaring back at the creature--or trying his best to, anyway--Nov held it firm with both hands. He didn't have much experience when it came to dealing with animals, other than preparing them for supper, but it seemed intrinsic that he exert some amount of control, of authority.

"Stay put," the cook ordered, still glaring. The dog only wagged its tail harder. It started worming its head through the gap of its coat prison.

"I said stay!" Noven growled louder, tightening his grip on the dog's small frame. This seemed to cow the canine a bit. If only for a moment. But it still retained a ponderous look in its three eyes, as if it didn't fully understand why this large being was acting so stern when they'd been playing for the past twenty or so chimes. A pink, velvety tongue lolled out as it suddenly wiggled harder and tried to lick the human in the face.

Nov dodged this unwanted and slobbery attention at the very last tick. Staring at both sets of eyes made him temporarily forget this creature was still mostly dog. As for the rest of it...well, the merc did a more careful inspection of his freshly captured specimen now, tugging at its ears and trying to discern if all four eyes swiveled in the same direction. He couldn't tell much in the eye department, but its ears seemed incredibly rabbitlike. They were long, soft, and picked up on the slightest of sounds, judging from the rare lulls of relative quiet whenever people weren't yelling or dogs weren't yipping.

It was such a small creature too, for being a canine. Or was it even truly a canine? Noven hadn't the slightest clue where to begin guessing. It certainly acted like a dog. But it didn't look like any dog he'd seen either.

Two chimes into his studying and the merc was already feeling out of his element.

A particularly feisty dog barked nearby, startling him out of his brief and fruitless inspection. Glancing over, he saw that Wolf Girl wasn't having much luck with her specimen either, demanding that one of the dogs release her finger from its jaws. A moment of witticism sought to pass through. Something about the size of a dog and its bark...but it dissipated too quick and Noven was left once again with just plain, good old amusement.

"I think we might need to working on training these little menaces, Boss, he called out from across the hall. In that moment of distraction, his own captive attempted to bust itself free, throwing all of its weight upward to escape his grip.

Swearing, Nov clamped down on the animal and pinned it to the floor. "You remind me way too much of Sunset's runts..." he muttered under his breath.

[Pulren Marsh]

It was funny how the simple action of leaping into the swarm of Gibbats caused such a ruckus to the others. Really, was this serious research? Research of the same solemnity as the rest of the damnable island? Hardly. It was more than likely the boss' obsession and it was up to her colleagues friends lackeys to get into it and come up with a solution. He felt a camaraderie with the one taking a bite out of Bitzer's finger, the reaction drawing a smirk from the Zeltivan's lips. It was little to no surprise that Keene merely stood as a talking statue. Other than his supposed power, he was very droll and resembled a piece of furniture to Pulren mostly. Useful but fairly dull.

Noven was full of action as usual and he felt like he was at a loss with the native Sunberther. He had never had the opportunity to bond with him and he suspected that after this little trip that it would be about the same. It was a general feeling that he got with the Scars. He definitely felt like an outsider, though the makeup of the group was mostly alien to Sunberth. he looked forward to returning to Zeltiva, though he was glad that he had made the effort to come out and explore a bit of the world that would have otherwise remained in books. Gibbats definitely would never have made it into a book that he would ever have the luxury of reading. Then again, one could never really say never in Mizahar.

His daydreaming aside, he laughed out loud when he heard the comments from Keene and Bitzer. "Mad indeed." That's all he could really add. The situation was summed up for the most part and much like the Gibbat, Pulren's attention was dwindling. Out of his element and apparently his mind, he stepped over both Gibbat and Gibbat remnant and leaned back against his door, watching the action from a place of rest.

[Keene Ward]

Keene frowned at Bitzer's response, unsure whether it was jest or truth. From what he had seen, the Scars were certainly different, but madness had only just seemed to present itself. Whatever the case, he hardly considered himself a madman, though he agreed with her that island was not one of the most hospitable places for the living. Madness aside, it seemed that two of the creatures had been caught, and Keene sincerely hoped that would be the beginning of the end with their collective fascination. Animals had never held much interest for him, and while he wasn't so indifferent that he would rather they die than take up space, there was no love between him and the sub-human creatures. They were dirty, messy, and unreasonable, three things that when paired into whole were unappealing enough to warrant his distaste.

He watched with a steady gaze as Bitzer taunted one of the creatures before her while another chewed upon the collar of her shirt. Even he could see what happened before it did, and as the teeth closed over the outstretched fingers, Keene simply shook his head. Animals were hardly toys: if one were to push them, they would push back. With zero sympathy for Bitzer's just rewards, he let her handle the situation herself. While he was glad to have only two left that were directly affecting him thanks to the combined efforts of both Bitzer and Palaren, Keene had done nothing to warrant it. The sooner Bitzer tired of the beasts, the sooner he would be released from the "festivities". He supposed it could have been much worse: if the Gibbats had been as aggressive as the first he'd met, he imagined the four of them would be hard pressed no to find their throats torn open. While they appeared to be harmless enough, they were animals, and animals backed into a corner, as he had experienced, were far more ferocious than their belying appearances.

Noven seemed entirely entertained, and Keene had little to reply to his suggestion that the beasts be trained. He didn't doubt it was possible, though he'd never once seen evidence of it on the off times he'd visited Risabel and Seymour. The thing was just as wild as it had been when he'd found it (or better, spared it). If the members of the Scars wanted them, he had no reason to keep them from it. The residents of the island seemed to hold relatively similar ideas regarding the gibbats: pests not pets. And it appeared Palaren at least shared the view that the dogs were hardly worthy companions as he leaned against the door to grin at the chaos he'd caused. Keene didn't understand them - any of them. They conducted themselves in different ways depending upon the situation, like strange, fluid beings. He didn't see the use of it, to appear sombre, fierce, or stoic only to trade it for giggles and raucous laughter. It seemed a waste of energy to him, and he kept his mouth shut on the matter. Pointing it out them hardly seemed relevant, and Keene was relatively certain they at least had an a basic understanding that it was something they did. He had not spent much time around other people, and thus people where something of a mystery to him. Those before him no exception.

[Fallon]

Fallon continued to let out a whimper of noise, her eyes staring down upon the latched creature in a bemused fashion. It was no longer as painful as before, she could almost feel the grip loosening around its jaws as she held it there. Her other had managed to cup beneath the creature, pinching and pulling at various points, searching for something that would make it let go - before at last her hand came to the scruff of its neck. A firm grasp upon it, she gave a tug, feeling the jaw slack as she pulled the creature away. Sweet release came after that, her hand shaking as the pain ran through it - she would have to tend to it, she knew that as she looked upon the blotched end.

"You little bastard," she hissed as she held it away at arm's length. It gave a feeble paw at her arm, jaws nipping at the air as she let it swing. She was not about to let it bite her again. The other one by this point gave an almost drowsy blink at the other, leaving a thin layer of slobber upon her shirt. The smallest of growls, it let out a yawn as it padded down onto her now still lap and proceeded to lay there after a few tentative pads. She knew then it would not move unless she did something about it.

With a wince she gave a look towards Pulren's small agreement to their madness, and then onwards to Noven's struggles with his own captured creature. There was the occasional small growl of defiance as she looked back towards the held gibbat dog that struggled. Fallon released a mumble, "I think right now we just need to...stop it" she glared at the swinging dog, "Behave. No. Where was I? Get them used to our presence. Assert dominance as the pack leader."

There was only the flicker to Keene at that point, his own features suggesting he was locked in some form of silent observation. He looked bored in honesty, or perhaps unamused with the way the frown set into his features. She gave a flicker lower of him, and then onwards down the corridor. It was slowly that she spoke to him, "If you do not want to be here Warden, then I will not keep you." Her gaze shifted to the Gibbat dog she held, before at last she lowered it to the floor eyes burning at it. Firmly she spoke to it, "Stay. Don't you move. Besides, we mad individuals must become acquainted with these and think on training to at least not bite. No?" The sleeping Gibbat she picked up and held in her hand, stubby tail wriggling and the head lolling to one side off her fingers, "Well gentlemen?" She clambered back up to her feet then, the aching hand gently clamping over the top of the creature. Fallon was done as far as she was concerned, and presently she preferred the idea of keeping the gibbat pup as subdued as possible instead of disturbing it from its current state.

[Noven]

"Should I stew you or toss you in a pan to fry, you little shyke," Nov muttered as he kept his captive pinned to the ground with both hands. The conniving creature had almost escaped twice already. It would lie stock still, almost as if it had died. Then, when it sensed Nov had let his guard down, it would bunch up all of its muscles and attempt to leap out of its coat prison.

Its captor, of course, was going to let no such escape happen. He had spent too much time and energy chasing the bloody thing down.

A quick, sideways glance showed Palaren to be watching the chaos from afar. Another in the opposite direction caught the dour visage of their ever friendly, neighborhood Warden Initiate, Keene the Budding Socialite. Somewhere in between was Bitzer and her own captured specimen. Though, Noven wasn't entirely sure who was the one presently doing the capturing. The dog had her hand in its maw with surprising force and determination, releasing its hold only when Wolf Girl managed to grab it by the scruff.

Bitzer's plan of action made sense enough. Nov nodded once at her words before bundling his own dog tightly within the confines of his coat. It wiggled, grunted, and generally made a mild fuss, but it didn't seem as keen on fighting to escape. The cook took that as a good sign and held the bundle to his chest like some kind of malformed babe.

"Or train it to bite the right people," he threw in after Bitzer's second suggestion. True, he didn't want to be dealing with a yippy, yappy, finger gnawing critter for the rest of their trip. But he also didn't want something that couldn't defend itself. And, as his logic went, if the thing had teeth and four legs, why not use it to his advantage? It would be a bit like paying for room and board, except with an exchange of services rather than mizas.

Kinda like a mercenary.

Come to think of it, this was what Kor had been wanting from his own dog, wasn't it? Nov briefly wondered how the kid was faring. He'd agreed to speak on the orphan's behalf to Jillene about allowing him a dog and Bitzer itself it seemed had promised to help him train it. But then the cook had set sail to Sahova, leaving it all temporarily behind. The last thing he had done was make sure some of the children were properly clothed for the season. Against all possibility, Winter this year had been worse than the last. He felt a small tug of worry at that thought. Hopefully, the list of deceased would be short upon his return, with Kor's name absent from its tally.

Noven dragged himself from his internal chewing and cleared his throat. "Aye, looks like we got more work to do." He looked to each of his companions present and shifted the weight of the bundle in his arms. "I'll be keeping this thing in my quarters, then. Don't want it escaping."

It was fortunate that their rooms were so sparse. There would be little for the pup to chew, piss, and jump on. Home, not so fortunately, would be a different matter altogether. Nov could only hope Jillene wouldn't fine him for bringing the bizarre looking creature onto her property.

Welp, all the more reason to get it trained.

[Pulren Marsh]

Even with all of the gesturing and care from Noven and Fallon, Pulren still found himself completely apathetic. It was stange how he had been so animated and then lost interest. Many things were becoming confusing and particularly unlike him the longer he stayed on the wretched island. It made even this most pleasant of circumstances a grating, pungent sore in his psyche. On one hand, he wanted to stay in good relations with his fellow Scars. They had his back like he had theirs and he had come to see a job through. On the other hand, and maybe for the first time in Pulren's memory, consequences really didn't mean shyke. What would they do? Kick him out of the gang? Not likely. Would it leave a stain on his fake alias name?

A big shrug and a sigh came as far as his response went. He opened his mouth briefly, like he wanted to say something. Soon after, he snapped it back shut and just shook his head in a slightly neurotic way. Words did come as he turned and opened the small door of his closet. "I've got nothing. Night. Or whatever time it is." Stepping into his uncomfortably cramped excuse for a room, he did feel slightly better when the door shut behind him. It was marginally quieter and maybe they would talk about him. He didn't particularly care. Taking the time to slide his clothes off, Pulren stood against the cool stone of the walls naked, his head tucked in the crook of his elbow.

The cool sensation against his forehead and other revealed skin was a welcome. He needed sleep. Taking a seat on his pile of clothes, he tried to forget about where he was. So much crazy shyke had happened since he had landed and he found himself giggling a little at the thought of being happy to return to Sunberth. Pulling the cloak over, he kept laughing until his body was merciful.

[Keene Ward]

As things began to settle down some and the Scars had managed to procure a few creatures of their own, Keene nodded at Fallon's dismissal. There was no reason for him to stay, and while he would have preferred to keep the Scars in his sights, there was one that was a bit more difficult a quarry, which made egress all the more appealing. Extricating himself from his fluffy shackles that responded with low growls and a few snaps, Keene nudged them away with the toe of his boot. Eyes flicking from Bitzer to Palaran, he inclined his head. "If you have need of me, I'll be in the Gug Andjak."

For a moment, he glanced towards Noven's grinning features. The man seemed content enough. Turning, Keene headed down the steps, careful not to step on any more of the Gibbats, nor to rile them to the point in which they would cause a problem. It was a short walk made lengthy by the amount of creature that was in his way, but eventually he made it out into the courtyard. There were dogs bouncing to and fro, some floating, others acting strange and twitchy. Keene simply strolled past them and into the common labs to clear his head. The Scars could take care of themselves for a day, and they knew where to find him if they could not.