It's a fool who plays it cool

[foolsmakeitcolder]

WHO: Jude & OPEN
WHAT: Arrival & settling
WHEN: Early Justinian
WHERE: First the Vimmark Mountains, then the Gallows
NOTES: Warning for giant ass wolf, giant wolf ass, nudity, violence.



Starters to come.

Comments

Arrival | OPEN (to first come first served, then closed)

[foolsmakeitcolder]

The enormous dark wolf hurtles through the Rift, looking like one of the fearsome things the tear in reality may have concocted by itself. He comes with a maw full of glinting teeth and a crashing growl that rumbles in his chest like a gathering storm.

He digs his claws into the earth, turning lightning-quick to address the demons that are coming through the rift on his heels.

The beast attacks with uncanny intelligence, twisting to avoid blows, feinting to dart in after heavy movements. He attacks with body weight, and once his jaws clamp onto something, he slashes with claws, raking open the demons in snaps that are angry, but calculated.

When the fight is done, he stands among the wreckage of demons with his head low, legs splayed, ears pricked. His teeth show as he pants for air, but there is intelligence in those eyes.

When he lifts his enormous paw, something between the pads glints green.

[favoriteanalyst]

So. For Mobius' first time at a rift (and a closing thereof), this has turned out to be as exciting as he expected.

Fighting demons is almost enough; watching those with anchors get to work is better. It's fascinating--no, that's not a strong enough word. He'd love to study this all further, even though the research division has oodles of papers about it.

That's not the important part, though. Not really. The important part happens in the midst of slashing at a shade, unwilling to give these things the fear they desire and inflict. The important part comes in the form of an absolutely enormous wolf. For a few moments, distracted, he wonders if it's Astarion's beastly friend come blinking back into existence from the Fade. But--but it isn't. This one isn't quite the same, different eyes, carries itself differently. Doesn't blink in and out of existence. And while Ataashi has some very uncannily intelligent traits, she has not seemed to be like this.

Mobius dispatches the shade and turns to the next demon, only for the flurry of fur to already be on the job. He helps, of course. Not going to let this beast do all the dirty work. And after the demons are through, and the rift is closed, there's...a wolf. A smart one. A sentient, a sapient one. One that has a glow in its paw.

He keeps sword in hand, but low, nonthreatening, and raises the other hand. Slow on approach. "Hey there." Calm, soothing. Not A Threat. Might be smart, but can it understand speech? "Did a good job with that. You're okay now. No one's gonna hurt you."

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Pack, pack, pack-

The alphas describe it as lights behind their eyes, as gravity beams, drawing lines through time and space. They find where they're drawn, where they land. Jude doesn't see them, he feels them. As currents. Bigger, smaller, churning and rushing, moving past him like deep-sea leviathans, like undertow, pulling him down, like rainfall warm and welcome on his cheeks. Like tears. Warm, cold, fresh, salt-

Here, it is dry.

Here, it is dry as the desert, and his wolf can feel it searing all the way down. Every breath he takes. He is dry. He is alone.

He has never been alone. Not even once. Not even when his pack was states away while he made the journeys the others couldn't because it would bleed their wolves. He can be apart from them, away from their territory and not have it eat through his sanity like licking fire. Because he could always feel them.

Now he can't.

It takes everything that is in him not to panic.

He digs his claws deeply into the earth and scents the air, finding nothing but blood, steel, things foreign and monstrous, and finally -- something human. It's the only thing familiar, and he turns immediately to it, eyeing the armored man. Strong, able, ready. Ally, the wolf senses, going by the blood still-dripping off the blade and the way he holds out his hand, carefully approaching.

Jude takes a slow step, head still down, and then another. He takes another deep breath, opening his mouth to scent him, showing long rows of pearly-white teeth. He could take off an arm, gore him in a blink. He licks along his bloody muzzle, sneezes at the taste, and shakes himself before easing closer.

Close enough to touch, he is chillingly huge. His eyes find Mobius's face, hold his gaze. Lets out a low huff of sound, bleps his tongue out toward the hand, but doesn't touch.

Caution. Curiosity. Good wolf. Reasonable wolf.

[favoriteanalyst]

Maker, but this one's big. Bigger than Ataashi, even. And while she is ostensibly Astarion's, she is still frankly a wild beast. Any wild beast can have a softer side, a curious side. And a feral, angry, biting side.

"Yeah, we're all friends here," he coos, letting the wolf close some of the distance. Well aware of teeth. It would be funny if he got all this way in life only to lose it from some kind of Rifter wolf. It's looking at him, looking at him in the eye. "Danger's passed."

Another shuffle-step closer. And he gently moves to rest his hand atop the beast's head. Good reasonable wolf, does wolf want pets? Does the big dangerfuzz want some pets?

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Better than he could have expected. Human, but with that strange scent about him. Is he familiar with shifters? With wolves? Because he's a natural. As Mobius reaches out to pat the top of his head, Jude lifts it, bumps his huge, heavy skull up under his hand, soft ears laying back so they won't scrape against his armor.

He moves in close, bumps his shoulder up against Mobius -- just by the small bump, he probably outweighs him. Stays there to twist his head around to look back where the Rift is, and sniff towards it. Where it's bleeding.

It doesn't look, and more importantly, doesn't smell like anything he's ever seen. It's nothing natural. The wrongness emanating from it makes his fur bristle, his hackles rise. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, a low rolling thunder Mobius will feel more than hear.

Even if he can't speak in this form, the sentiment is clear.

What the fuck is that.

The Gallows

[foolsmakeitcolder]

There are plenty of places Jude might be found, and he's not hard to find.

Mornings are spent in the Gallows dining hall, where he listens to conversations, taking it all in. He leans against the table, then gestures with his bread roll, tilting his head to one side.

"What food," he asks, "do you miss the most?"

Whether they're a Rifter or a native Thedosian, ten to one they're not from here in Kirkwall.


Afternoons he's in the training yard, intently watching the sparring, having a round or two without weapons or armor. Shirtless, and no scars on him. He looks like he's never seen a fight, but moves like someone who knows his way around one. During a break he sticks nearby, holding piece of the standard-issue armor in his hands, careful fingers working over the joints to see how it all goes together.

"How long does it take to put all this mess on?"


Nights he roams. He can't leave the Gallows, but his wolf doesn't understand that, and is most restless when the moon is high. So he takes the stairs, running across the night watch paths, pacing the perimeter and learning the territory. He is barefoot when he walks these. Shirtless, loose pants, with a restless gait and a look in his eyes that isn't in the here and now. If one happens upon him human then he'll offer a smile and ask if they need anything, no, he's fine, he's just out for a walk, would you like to join him? Are the stars different here?

Alternatively, this is where someone would meet the wolf.

He's enormous, and in the night, the darkness of his fur looks black. The lights that hit his eyes reflect back yellow -- especially for those well-accustomed to wild animals or wolves, he definitely does not look like a wild wolf. There's something uncanny about his eyes, in the way he moves. Too careful, too intelligent. There is a thinking mind in there.

He's friendly, though, with pricked ears and careful eyes. He carefully does not show his teeth.

[Or Wildcard!]

gimme the wolf

[armd]

Abby is actually out on night watch and the sudden appearance of something far too big gives her cause to actually be alert. She stops leaning, and straightens up, squinting at the far profile of the wolf, its ears pricked. She... thinks it might be watching her back, but it's hard to tell at this distance. Her skin prickles at the thought anyway.

Nobody moves.

Eventually, Abby thinks to call out in greeting, "Ataashi."

... Please let it be Ataashi. And then she remembers that Astarion's wolf has green, Fade-touched eyes, not yellow, and her held out hand drops down by her side instantly.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

It's not a name Jude recognizes. But he can smell the fear in her sweat, watch the fight cording in her muscles. Wolves don't have night vision, but they can see movement better than anything, and he tracks her hand down to her weapon with a tilt to his head.

He lifts his, knowing that he cuts a terrifying figure in the moon and torchlight, and doesn't come closer.

He could shift human. He should shift human. But somehow, he doesn't think that shifting into a large naked human man in front of a woman alone will make this situation any less terrifying. So he stays furry.

Instead, he lifts one paw. He can't wave, but he can paw the air in a facsimile of a shake hands. He waves his tail sideways. Also not a wolf gesture, but it's a dog one. Cautious friendliness.

Good wolf. Nice wolf. Big, protective wolf. Not going to eat you.

[armd]

Abby stares. The little wiggle of a paw makes her apprehension take a big hit but she still doesn't understand what a fucking wolf is doing in the Gallows, unless Astarion has started some new trend. Knowing him...

"Who are you?"

She doesn't sound accusatory or anything, she's just asking. That tail going a mile a minute is indicative of 'I want to play', so after another pause she holds out her hand again in greeting, if the wolf wants a sniff.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Friendly wolf.

Abby holds out her hand, and Jude tilts his head forward, making sure that yes, she's fine with him getting closer.

Who are you -- ugh, she's so smart. Most of the people here are, but she's catching on quicker than any of them. He trots closer, slows, still waving his tail, ears pricked, and gently sniffs at her hand. This is the person with the Mabari pup. Her scent is around the training grounds, among the weapons and armor. Forces. The whiff of rift about her, faint.

He sniffs ones more, loudly, then gives her hand a brief lick, ducking his head up under her hand like a big dog asking for pets.

Nice wolf. Good wolf. He sits back on his haunches -- absurdly tall, even like this, and lifts up the paw with the anchor shard, so the green glistens between the pads. He puts his paw in her hand for a shake.

Nice to meet you.

Breakfast (assuming keeping tdm thread as canon is ok, if not let me know and I'll adjust)

[youwonscience]

"God, this is super specific but: Creamsicles. You know, with the orange sherbet and the creamy part inside? I know they're kind of basic, but when it's summer, it is literally all I want." She flashes a small smile. "You?"

perf!

[foolsmakeitcolder]

"Oh."

Jude slumps dramatically against the table, patting his hand against the top of the wood, tapping out.

"I haven't had a creamsicle in about three years, but now? Now I know that was a mistake."

Terrible. Awful. He shakes his head. His wolf whines, somewhere inside him. He doesn't care about creamsicles, even if the rest of Jude does.

"... for me it's got to be street tacos."

[youwonscience]

"Oh my god, you're speaking my language. Someone needs to bring the good news of the street taco to Kirkwall, though I don't think I'm qualified. But maybe a brilliant taco-maker will fall out of a rift one day?"

They can always dream.

"Also guacamole, while we're at it."

[foolsmakeitcolder]

"I can make them, but I'm a fucking casual," Jude says with a laugh, and groans aloud at the idea of guacamole.

"If we ever get our hands on the ingredients. I know a copycat recipe from one of the local places. I could eat that stuff with a spoon."

training yard

[justashotaway]

Laura's been practicing today, too, trying to regain some of the strength she lost in Antiva. She's in linen shirt and trousers today, punching and kicking a practice dummy with focused repetition. And then she's taking a break, debating the merits of practicing with a sword next.

"A while." She watches the way he touches it; his hand moves over the metal like he's never seen it before. It's a familiar sensation, if distantly so. "But you may choose to wear something simpler."

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Metal has never felt right to his wolf- it feels like friction, something scraping inside his brain, standing between him and shifting. He's not terribly claustrophobic, but he could be. If he were wearing something like this.

"Have we got anything that's... loose?"

[justashotaway]

"Do you like leather?" Any armor is unlikely to qualify as loose - that defeats the purpose of armor. But it would be lighter, at least.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

"Never tried it. Never tried any armor before."

Got to be honest. So many parts of this are new to him. So many things are no longer impossible. They may have even solved this problem already. They seem to know a lot about war, and fighting things bigger than themselves.

"But I'm open to learning something new."

wolf pls

[doggish]

[The thing is: Fenris, himself, smells of wolves.

Ataashi is an affectionate girl, after all, and Fenris has more than enough adoration to give her; there's more than a few nights that pass with the two of them curled up together in front of the hearth or tussing teasingly over some bone she's fixated on. So to a nose sensitive to it, he positively reeks of wolf: female and attention-starved, and yet in the same breath so terribly spoiled. Oh, and a tinge of the Fade within that coiling scent, but honestly, Fenris barely notices that anymore.

So he's used to wolves. And he's a member of Riftwatch, an organization that by and large deals with a lot of strange shit. And yet still, still, it gives him pause to be strolling not far from the Gallows and to see something so enormous padding about. Not a mabari, nor indeed a wild dog crept in from Sundermount into Kirkwall. A wolf, but then again, no, for he sees why mabari occurred to him: there's something intelligent about the way the creature moves. It stares at him, careful and calculating, and does not cower in fear or snarl warningly as he approaches. It just . . . stares.

Huh.]

Hello, you.

[Friendly, but not overly so. He crouches down on the balls of his feet, making himself less of a threatening figure, and offers his hand palm up, fingers outstretched.]

Where did you come from, hm? Not a housepet, not without a collar . . . are you lost? We're a long way from the wilds.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

[Clearly this is the only man alive who would look at a giant wolf who could tear his arm off and think: yes. House pet.

Jude marvels at the thought as he closes the distance between them, sniffing deeply to scent him. Elf, not human -- he's starting to recognize the differences, scenting him before he spots the ears. The man's eyes shine like Jude's in the dark. Reflective. There is a soft blue glow, an acrid scent like lyrium-

And then he smells it. Wolf. Wild wolf, but it's there, all over him, caught in the crevices. She isn't a shifter, not like him, but she is unnatural all the same.

Wolf.

Jude forgets himself in his curiosity, and since Fenris clearly isn't afraid of him, he takes the invitation of the open hand, chasing the scent. He bumps and presses his loudly-sniffing nose into the man's palm, darts his tongue out for a brief lick. His fangs flash, but he's polite, and tucks them back into his mouth, dropping into a sit to look up at him. He's larger even than Ataashi, and not fully black- this close to the torchlight he's rimed with deep brown, but the look in his eyes is intelligent. And not just wolf-intelligent.

He lifts his paw, as if to shake, pawing the air -- but really, showing the glint of the anchor between the pads.]

[doggish]

[Oh, hello, and the hand that had been about to settle into the wolf's fur for some realy satisfying scritches instead goes to hold up the offered paw. There's no mistaking the sickly green glow; he's seen it a thousand times.]

So they are recruiting wolves now, hm?

[Or this is not truly a wolf . . . but ah, if so, the wolf can reveal himself in his own time, for Fenris will feel like an idiot if he spends hours chatting to something that's just an animal. That said: werewolves are incredibly rare, but not unheard of; it's not inconceivable that this wolf is more than he seems.]

It would not be a good idea for you to stay out here, I think. Those who prowl around Kirkwall at night do not usually mean well for creatures that stick out.

[Rising to his feet, he taps twice against his own leg.]

Come along. Unless you wish to risk being taken by some opportunistic furrier?

[foolsmakeitcolder]

[Jude gives a snort something like a sneeze, then lets his mouth open, tongue hanging out in panting laughter. He allows it only because of the wolf scent all over this man; wolf laughter can look like a baring of teeth to someone unfamiliar with the mannerisms. He spreads his paw, allowing for a very distinct shake.

For all that humans -- and elves -- feel most comfortable thinking of him as a large, friendly, somewhat scary-looking dog, there is a thinking mind in there. He likes to make that clear, and he doesn't like to take advantage of the lowered inhibitions that someone might have towards an animal.

Strange, how an apex predator is so much safer than a human man.

But he gets to all fours as Fenris beckons him, bumping against his thigh and getting him covered in a non-negligible amount of hair. He pushes his large, heavy head underneath his hand, humoring him with this version of heel.

He's curious. He'll follow.]

mornings

[kyrr]

Tofa did not come here with the intention of making conversation, not when eating is a difficulty for her. She has, instead, a small goblet of water and a bow at her side, letting her eyes drag around the room as she drinks everyone in. Few faces are familiar these days and that does not surprise her: she has been gone a long time.

Lifting her head at the sound of a voice she pauses, her lip almost twitching just a little, before she motions to the entire table and begins to move her fingers - sign, instinctive, though she doubts to be understood. She hopes that instead the motion of her arms might make it clear.

All of it.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

It's not anything that Jude has intimate knowledge of, so it takes a second for him to catch on to the hand signs. She's not Deaf, she clearly heard him -- she wasn't looking at him when he started talking. Mute, or maybe she just doesn't feel like talking.

"Everything on this table?" he tries, watching her face, taking in the goblet of water. He'd scent her, if he were furry. His wolf's straining, curious. She is alone, too.

"All tables?"

It clicks, and he rolls his neck, tilting his head to the other side.

"You can't eat."

[kyrr]

She watches as he slowly figures out what the problem is, her eyes darting between him and the table. Tofa has no desire to literally open her mouth and show him her limitations, as gruesome that it is. It's not just because it would be uncomfortable but it would put her in a somewhat vulnerable position.

Looking at the food again, she puts the goblet down.

Learning to eat without a tongue had been a challenge, but it's manageable. Not good, considering how little she can enjoy, but doable.

Lifting her hand to touch her mouth, she shakes her head, then begins to sign. It's going to get some getting used to, this difficulty in communication, but at least she is trying.

No tongue.