[ There is a dog near the swamp, biting at a wooden box. It's similar to all the other boxes that washed up that contains others' belongings. Blood is needed to open them, but this dog is stubbornly trying to open it up with his jaws. ]
[ The aggression seems to fade when Pickles looks up and sees Camille call out to him, so he lets go of the box and softly barks. His tail wags as he sits to make himself seem not hostile at all. ]
[Smarter than average dog, maybe. Camille looks to the box warily, then takes a crouch.
She slowly surveys it, careful not to make sudden movements or whatever. It'd be her luck for the thing to turn feral on her the second she touched the box.]
...Shit. The lock mechanism. Um. [Camille winces, eyes closed. Either she provides or the dog does. The magic might be finicky that way.]
[Okay well Camille is not a monster. She is not going to try the dog first. She just has hesitations. She's loathe to open up something new, so. Has she got any scabs?
Or wait.]
Hang on. Sorry, pooch.
[She brings her thumb to her teeth and digs into the newborn hangnail. A few days without Aveeno and her hands are cracking under the pressure. The skin comes away and the blood wells up.
[ Unfortunately, it does not open. The box seems to give off the vibes of "I don't want this one". What a picky thing. Pickles stares at this box as if it's the cause of everything that's going wrong right now and bats at it with a paw. ]
Okay. Uh...can you understand me? [She fucking hates this.] It needs blood to open. It's your box so it doesn't want mine. Do you...Jesus.
[She presses a hand to her head. How the hell is she going to pull this off? Her heart's in her gut and still it beats like it's firing machine gun shells. If it's just a regular dog after all, she's scum. Even if it isn't, she's scum.
[ He sees her expressions and simply holds out his paw to her calmly. Pickles is aware that he could hurt himself, but that would probably cause more bleeding than he wants. ]
[Well. There you have it. Probably sentient, probably a person. It had its own post on the bulletin.
Camille's throat still swells shut and her eyes water. Her expression may have tensed up but it's reddening.]
I'll make it quick.
[She blows out a breath and sniffles, then pats around for the sharpest rock she can find. There's one with a jagged edge, fresh broken. She turns it over in hand and contemplates the best move.
Paw would get infected. Most of the body was obscured by fur. Back of the ear, maybe?]
Hold still, okay?
[She leans forward, petting him lightly over the head before she gently bows it down. Camille points the business end down and makes a swift, shallow swipe behind the base of his left ear. She's had practice at this, even if the rock's blunter than she's used to.]
[ Pickles remains surprisingly calm, though he does tense up when the injury is made. He has this big urge to shake, but he holds it for now. He has to stay still. ]
You have one but not the other? [She'd already pegged him for a sci-fi dropout or a futuristic fantasy. The translator works like magic but it could just be human tooling.]
How's that work? You're not going in the line of fire, are you?
[ Camille will find Pickles at the haunted house, sitting near the entrance. His fur is a lot more white that has lost its shine and his indigo eyes looking dead. There's a little doll that resembles Pickles under his paw.
When he looks up, he sees Camille and there's no hostility coming from him, but he doesn't really... react much either. ]
Pickles looks at the hand for a moment before leaning in to rest his head on it. I don't know what I would have done without affection week. Weekly effects saving my ass. But upon touch, Camille will feel that Pickles is very cold and without a pulse. ]
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w0 saturday
COMES IN SEVERAL HOURS LATER THAN EXPECTED CRIES
So. Is this intentional box aggression, or a poor, regular pooch snatched along for the ride?]
Hey now, easy... [Hands up, slow approach. She's never had pets and never knew how they felt about her.] Need help, little guy?
[Should she ask him to bark twice?]
accepts u accepts u accepts u acce
u r so good 2 me
[Smarter than average dog, maybe. Camille looks to the box warily, then takes a crouch.
She slowly surveys it, careful not to make sudden movements or whatever. It'd be her luck for the thing to turn feral on her the second she touched the box.]
...Shit. The lock mechanism. Um. [Camille winces, eyes closed. Either she provides or the dog does. The magic might be finicky that way.]
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[Okay well Camille is not a monster. She is not going to try the dog first. She just has hesitations. She's loathe to open up something new, so. Has she got any scabs?
Or wait.]
Hang on. Sorry, pooch.
[She brings her thumb to her teeth and digs into the newborn hangnail. A few days without Aveeno and her hands are cracking under the pressure. The skin comes away and the blood wells up.
She smears it on the box. Does it open?]
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Okay. Uh...can you understand me? [She fucking hates this.] It needs blood to open. It's your box so it doesn't want mine. Do you...Jesus.
[She presses a hand to her head. How the hell is she going to pull this off? Her heart's in her gut and still it beats like it's firing machine gun shells. If it's just a regular dog after all, she's scum. Even if it isn't, she's scum.
There's no winning.]
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[ He sees her expressions and simply holds out his paw to her calmly. Pickles is aware that he could hurt himself, but that would probably cause more bleeding than he wants. ]
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Camille's throat still swells shut and her eyes water. Her expression may have tensed up but it's reddening.]
I'll make it quick.
[She blows out a breath and sniffles, then pats around for the sharpest rock she can find. There's one with a jagged edge, fresh broken. She turns it over in hand and contemplates the best move.
Paw would get infected. Most of the body was obscured by fur. Back of the ear, maybe?]
Hold still, okay?
[She leans forward, petting him lightly over the head before she gently bows it down. Camille points the business end down and makes a swift, shallow swipe behind the base of his left ear. She's had practice at this, even if the rock's blunter than she's used to.]
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Thank you, thank. Good boy.
[Camille is quick to collect the blood, touching fingertips to the wound with cautious gentility. She then swipes it on the box.
It clicks and pops open. There's an odd device within, but hey, if it belongs to the dog it belongs to the dog.
Camille flips her hair out of her face and works to fit it onto the little guy.]
There we are. [She sniffles, still not quite free from the prickle of possible tears.] All spruced up. You good now?
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[ The device speaks in a robotic voice:
The puppy thanks you for your assistance and would like to repay the favor in a future date. ]
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Then the tears really do come. Silent, in a single drop per eye, but they're finally real.
Camille swipes at them with the heel of one palm, then reaches to scratch the uninjured ear.]
Hey, no problem. [She laughs a little. This is fucked. This is so fucked up.] I'd say "anytime" but god, I sure hope not.
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w0 post-exec
Woof.
[ He softly barks so that hopefully he won't surprise her. ]
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Pickles.
[Camille gets down on one knee, hands out. Come here, boy.]
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No she does, one with deep skritchies and a gentle sigh of relief.]
Hey boy. How you holding up after all that?
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[ The puppy says that it is doing fine. ]
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[Hardier than she is. This that begs the question:]
Are you used to this kind of thing?
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[ The puppy is used to violence in fantastical ways, but not death. ]
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You have one but not the other? [She'd already pegged him for a sci-fi dropout or a futuristic fantasy. The translator works like magic but it could just be human tooling.]
How's that work? You're not going in the line of fire, are you?
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Woof.
[ The puppy says if it must fight, it will, but would prefer not to. ]
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[You are a dog?]
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[ The puppy would perhaps use arcanum or with the good old fashioned bites. ]
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Well thank god for that.
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He wags his tail. He's glad that Camille finds it amusing now that he also understands why. Hehe. ]
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Camille grins and gives him a double ear rub. It's too cute, seeing the direct line from thought to tail-wagging action.]
As much as I hate to think of you in a fight, little man, I take it your being here means you knocked 'em dead. Good on you.
WEEK 1: Thursday
Looking around, where are you sweet boy. She whistles softly.]
Pickles? You here, boy?
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When he looks up, he sees Camille and there's no hostility coming from him, but he doesn't really... react much either. ]
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no]
Hey. [She slows her approach, crouching in front of him with a hand held out.] Got a bit of a makeover, huh?
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Pickles looks at the hand for a moment before leaning in to rest his head on it. I don't know what I would have done without affection week. Weekly effects saving my ass. But upon touch, Camille will feel that Pickles is very cold and without a pulse. ]
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Cold as the grave.]
Christ, Pickles, what did they do to you? [Her lips press thin. She touches his neck gently. Is the translator still there?] Can you talk?
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[ The puppy says that the translator still works. ]
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Woof.
[ The puppy says it was thrown away and abandoned by its owner along with being shunned and hated by the entire home city. ]
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[Was it something to do with how his body had changed?]
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[ The puppy doesn't know. ]