[ It's a beautiful evening on PLANT. The skies are clear, the streets are busy, yet quiet and peaceful, and one Dearka Elthman is getting a very normal text. ]
Some woman just walked up to me at this bar and proclaimed that I looked like a "shady motherfucker."
[ When Yzak returns home, it feels surreal. It's as though he doesn't belong here, doesn't fit where he knows he should when he realizes that he's going to have to fit back into place somehow. Because to everyone here who knows and cares about him ... they only just saw him, spoken to him, didn't they? And they'll expect to do so again, whether it's in an hour or tomorrow or a week from now. But Yzak Jule, as he stands at the window in his room, blue eyes scanning over the view, thinks to himself that right now, he truly doesn't know how he's going to just return to life.
And that hurts a hell of a lot.
Because life was always something Yzak looked at and had a path ahead of him for. Sure, before the Ximilia that path wasn't perfect and there were some things he'd gazed ahead at and didn't want to get closer to, but it was something all the same. He wasn't so keen on making a huge fuss about it, because he was lucky to even have a life and a future at all. And it was still difficult at times to feel as though he deserved even that. His time on the Ximilia changed everything, turned everything he'd ever expected of himself and his life straight onto its head. And he realized he did, perhaps, deserve more than he felt he did, and thus, deserved to look at the path ahead of him and make it into something he went down willingly. Ran down, even, because it was something he wanted, wholeheartedly, for himself.
But then he lost everything.
So here he stands in the rubble of those crumbled dreams, old path abandoned and impossible to return to because he's changed so much, and nothing ahead of him now because everything he wanted on that path and the person he wanted to walk it with is gone. And he wonders still if perhaps he didn't deserve and shouldn't have wanted at all and this was all some punishment for daring to reach for something so good. Now he not only has to have a painful reminder of that because he's got to begin to walk in some direction again, but he has to do so when the 'him' who stood here in this bedroom last feels like a completely different person than who stands here now.
Yzak is at his window because he figured he could at least deal with the immediate. And he's looking out because he's taking a note of the clusters of blue hourglass shapes he can see in the night sky, making the calculations of which cluster is which, seeing December and Januarius, and...
The PLANTs are intact; all colonies within each of the two clusters standing.
I did it.
What he'd sought out to do, spent the last near three years of his life to accomplish. It's a balm on his otherwise tumultuous and hurting heart because those millions of lives, of his people who he swore his own life to and whose deaths have haunted him since, were saved. He feels a pride that he hasn't felt so strongly in a while swell up in his chest ... but even that victory, it's only his, isn't it? Nobody else would be any wiser about the truth, unless Yzak decided to tell them. And if he did, he'd probably sound fucking insane.
For now, he's tired. Victory always brings some form of exhaustion, doesn't it? Not to mention there are a lot of things he's going to need to figure out, and fast.
He'll begin to do that tomorrow, once he's rested and feels, perhaps, that he really is home and that this isn't just some sort of fucked up dream.
What he also does is something that anyone who knows him would find peculiar: he takes off work. A few days, he figures, so he can sort himself out. Thankfully, he's got a great team working under him who can easily pick up the slack (and truly, he has no idea whatsoever what he was working on before he left, it's been so long) and he usually doesn't leave slack needing to be picked up in the first place. Still, his absence in the main office is something that won't go unnoticed the next day when he doesn't come in and any inquiries will only be met with a just as uninformative "Major Jule has requested the next few days off. No, he didn't explain why. I wonder if something's come up?" ]
[Rather unfortunately for Yzak, that competent team of his contains at least one person who isn't willing to just let an uncharacteristic and unexpected absence like that go uninvestigated.
Dearka could just call ahead; at least send an email or something to check in, see what the deal is. But let's be real: the relationship he has with Yzak is one of mutual trust, with boundaries as unique as their history together is long. It really isn't all that weird for them to just drop in on one another without much warning. So that's exactly what he does: he rolls up on Yzak's pad with little more than a quick text to let him know his intention to visit.
No room for argument is permitted; 10 minutes later, there's a knock at the door, and Dearka's voice calling out from the other side in his typical casual drawl.]
Oi, Yzak... You in there? It's me.
[He fishes his... Phone or whatever, out of his pocket to check and see if Yzak actually sent him a message back, having not bothered to look until now.]
Hearing Dearka's voice for the first time in so long is quite another.
And for sure something he wasn't ready for, because that was part of the point of taking off for a few days. (that, and his mother has, thankfully, chose the perfect time to return to Martius City for some personal affairs when she's a bit lower on the list on Things He Wants To Deal With so Yzak was lucky enough to return to an empty home) But leave it to Dearka to show up anyway, because if anyone could sense something off in Yzak, it's him.
He did in fact send a message back. A short I've got some things to take care of. in hopes that sounding busy would at least deter him enough to just keep things to text. But lo and behold, he's arrived and Yzak can't even be surprised about that.
Part of him doesn't even want to answer the door. If he didn't already think of at least some ways he could mitigate questions or avoid some things for now altogether, he wouldn't. But he knows that despite everything, Dearka can be just as stubborn as he can if he's got the right motivation to be, and this would be one of those times. Still, there's a very long stretch of silence before Yzak calls back from behind the door. ]
Hang on a second.
[ Unfortunately there's not much he can do about the pair of scars just over his left eye aside from whatever obscuring his bangs does for it. But one thing he has figured out for the time being is an easy way to hide his prosthetic arm, which would be a lot more 'what the fuck' inducing. Someone doesn't disappear for a couple of days and come back having lost a limb, recovering from it, and getting a prosthetic put in place. Sure, the solution to that is just "wear long sleeves and a glove" but it's a temporary solution all the same, until he can figure out how he's going to explain it. So once he's gloved up, the door finally swings open.
And he can't help but stare for a long moment as if he's seeing some kind of ghost because it's been so long since he's actually seen Dearka outside of dreams and/or fucked up memory shares. A simultaneous hurt because it's by far the longest he's gone without his presence and support (though at least he didn't think he was dead this time around...) but a relief because he's there, right in front of him and probably more than ready to offer it now.
Yzak just isn't sure if he wants to go all in on accepting said support. At least not immediately. (because he knows he's going to get it one way or another)
So for now, once that initial beat passes and he mentally kicks himself to get it together: ]
[Well. If he wasn't already suspicious that something was up before, he definitely is now, because there's no way in hell he's going to miss that weird look... Even if he doesn't quite understand the meaning of it.
Dearka frowns, cocks an eyebrow, and stares right back for another long moment, searching his friend's face. He's not sure what he's expecting to find, exactly... Just, hints, he supposes, as to what he's about to walk into here. Unfortunately, he's not finding much... Although he does note it looks like there's something a bit weird going on above Yzak's one eye. He doesn't comment on that yet though; he just logs it, and finally speaks up, that easy-going smile of his returning.]
Just wanted to check in... Not like you to call out of work so suddenly like that. Got us all a bit worried.
[There's an unspoken addition: All of us, but especially me. Because even if Yzak does occasionally have to miss work for whatever reason, at the very least he'll almost always tell Dearka the details in private.]
[ Even though Yzak more or less looks the same (Coordinator genes keeping them looking youthful) the look he gives, and perhaps everything else going on behind his eyes is rather unreadable. Or rather, too deep-running to really understand without context. But it's there, something definitely different and off. Proof in itself that while what he experienced affected him on a personal level ... the time passed also serves now as a rift between where the two of then were before Yzak left and where they are, who he is, now.
Not even this can be easy, huh. When it feels like Yzak's lost so much already. Sure, Dearka is right here in front of him, but... in a way he feels like he's lost him too, after all this time.
He frowns, and it's not edged with the usual sharpness he'd have. ]
It's like I told the office, I had ... something come up that needed - needs my immediate attention.
[ There's an apologetic tone to his voice, because time may have passed, but he can still pick up that extra layer of unspoken concern coming from Dearka that hits more personally. Yzak takes a step back, an offer for him to come in if he pleases. ]
Were you on your way somewhere?
[ The question is also an offer; if Dearka was just making a pit stop here or would rather be elsewhere ... he'll come along. ]
Nowhere urgent to be today. I guess that's another reason why I'm here... I suppose I just missed seeing your smiling face.
[There's a sort of sardonic edge to his words, but he grins and winks as he moves to slip past, taking Yzak up on his invitation. Since Dearka's off-duty at the moment, he's in casual dress, and so he slouches by with one hand shoved in a pocket... But the other hand? That he uses to try and give his friend a little drive-by, reassuring pat on the shoulder as he passes...
...And then he stops short when he feels hard metal hidden beneath the fabric.]
Hmm...? [He squints.] Are you... Wearing body armor under here or something...?
[ Little does Dearka know that his joke there about his smiling face was something he missed out on, too. Because Yzak found reason to do it a lot more at a point. Now his smile and optimism, gone. ]
!!
[ He immediately tenses up when Dearka's hand clamps down on his shoulder, feeling that extra weight press on where the housing system connects to the nerves in his body.
Shit.
Well, so much for that genius idea he had about keeping his arm under wraps until he could figure out how to explain it to anyone. Way to go, Yzak! Even it being Dearka hardly makes the sudden surge of panic feel any better. He jerks the arm away, sidestepping with a turn to pull back a small distance. And in that small window of time Dearka speaks and Yzak replies quickly, without thinking, in some desperate attempt to save this. ]
—Yes I am!
[ And then it hangs there for a long moment, his expression tense, strained, staring straight into Dearka's eyes. Yzak was never a good liar and still isn't. It's one thing if he had to lie or cover for something with Dearka, it was different when he had to go on a mission and act like he belonged there - that was business, that was work, that was for the sake of a goal. But something like this?
Even Yzak knows his expression betrays him right now and there's no proper way to bullshit his way out of this. ]
Not only is Yzak a terrible liar, but Dearka's not an idiot. That overblown reaction pings his attention immediately, and his expression grows both serious and suspicious.]
Yzak, what are you...?
[He looks the frazzled commander up and down, and that's when he fully clocks the gloves too. He doesn't know what they mean? But something about them in tandem with the shoulder thing and Yzak's cagey behavior fills him with an odd sense of foreboding.
Carefully, he reaches back and closes the door, not once taking his eyes off his friend while he does so.
He doesn't... Say anything. He wants to see what Yzak has to say first.]
I sent out my coordinates. I don't care when you get this message, go to them! That's an order!
[ Wherever this is, however they got there, the facts are: it's affected them, and in such a way they've never experienced before. Yzak noticed the changes in himself immediately, overcome by an intense, deep hunger unlike anything he's ever felt. And that hunger ... didn't even feel like it was near how much more deeper it could go.
So, urgent with the sudden helplessness he feels, he reaches for the two things he can rely on: Dearka, who he's also just as concerned about if he's going through something similar which is why he sends those messages out to him as quickly as he does, and himself. He aims to lessen that feeling of powerlessness as much and as quickly as possible, to seize a feeling of control over this, and in order to do that he needs to figure out what's changed in him and why, and how to fix or deal with it. And it doesn't take him very long. He looks down at his hands, notes the pallor of his already pale skin - and really this is Yzak Jule he's already kind of a pasty motherfucker so it speaks volumes that he notices the change. And when he rushes to the bathroom so he can look at himself ... he sees nothing but the wall behind him in the mirror.
He's read more than enough folklore to know what's going on here. And yet it's still hard to wrap his head around. (also, why couldn't he turn into something less cliche than a vampire with how many actual interesting folkloric creatures there are out there! (ugh, damn it, I'd rather not turn into anything at all!))
By the time Dearka responds or arrives, Yzak's informed enough on his end that he's calmed down at least a little bit from the initial panic. And yet ... he realizes now that the hunger he feels is a craving for blood, and part of the intensity of that is tinged with a ... ferocity that concerns him. Something loud deep inside of him that begs to be sated because if he lets it grow it may become too much to bear before his body simply acts despite his wishes. ]
Damn it...
[ He mutters to himself, pacing back and forth as the thumb of his hand slid just beneath his top lip presses and rubs against a long, and very sharp fang. ]
tries not to make a "let's get knotty" joke; fails.
[Wherever he's been, Dearka has been experiencing changes that are not at all dissimilar: sudden and alarming, immediately assaulting his brain with all kinds of heightened and unfamiliar instincts and impulses.
Also not dissimilar: his immediate fear and concern for his partner's safety... Fear which only increases as he watches many of the strangers out on the streets begin to undergo their own changes, and proceed to leap all over each other.]
Damn it!
[He's already tearing back towards their shared living space before Yzak even calls, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.
...Well. "Fur" might be a more accurate word than "hair", actually.
His own changes had arrived as a violent maelstrom of teeth and claws which made his blood boil and his energy spike. He feels more alive and alert than ever, like the switch which controls his soldier's combat instincts is suddenly jammed into the 'on' position, and he can't even think about turning it back off. It might almost be invigorating, if it didn't feel like his heart was about to pound out of his chest. Distracting smells and sounds try to assault his heightened senses from every direction as he sprints back towards the coordinates given, but he grits his new fangs and ignores them all with a single-minded determination.
That's how a blonde-furred and harried looking wolf-man eventually comes to burst through the front door, wrenching it open with such strength and urgency that it's a wonder he doesn't smash the door itself, or rip it off its hinges.]
Yzak!
[Dearka shouts his name and screeches to a halt at the threshold, filling up the doorway, breathing heavily for a moment. His eyes are wild, and his clothes are shredded in some places; his changes came with a lot more alterations to his very skeletal structure, so his somewhat lanky and typically relaxed frame now hulking and tensed. All this at the cost of several popped seams and slashes in the fabric of his clothing, the latter likely caused by clumsy, unfamiliar claws.
He's almost unrecognizable like this, with the face of a beast, his teeth bared and gleaming white.
But... When he sees that Yzak is still here, and he's at least still in one piece, his expression relaxes into something much more obviously Dearka. The snout recedes. He shrinks down a bit, reaches up to rub the back of his neck and lets out an over-exaggerated sigh of relief.]
Thank god... Oi, Yzak; you didn't have to scare me like that, you know.
[ Just as both the door swings open and he hears his name (though he heard the approaching footsteps outside, his own hearing and other senses also spiking beyond even what he's used to as a Coordinator) Yzak spins around to meet—
What in the absolute fuck is that?
It all happens in about two-second's time. He heard Dearka's voice, he sees this monstrous-looking creature, so clearly this thing attacked him? Yzak does what any logical man would do under that extremely wrong assumption, he goes for the pistol he carries on him with alarming speed, bringing it up and pointing it directly at the beast. His whole body tenses, jaw clenched and teeth grit. Finger over the trigger, it twitches, ready to fire if it moves even an inch. It stopping in the doorway gives Yzak that extra precious moment to look it over and try to make out any best place to land a shot on its body to protect himself.
And to realize his huge mistake here, when he notices those tattered clothes look ... familiar?
Yzak's expression melts from ready to kill to one of confusion, of dawning realization as Dearka's own demeanor and thus, physical appearance shifts a bit. ]
... Dearka...?
[ His grip on the gun eases, and he brings his arms down, even if the rest of him still looks like it's in defense mode.
[Yzak pulls the gun so fast, Dearka barely has time to finish the sentence before he's reflexively holding his hands up in front of him in a placating gesture, his eyes widening. Thankfully, Yzak lowers the weapon again just as quickly. Which, is nice; now doesn't seem like a great time to be reenacting Mendel, after all...
At Yzak's question he snorts, letting his hands drop again. By this point he's calmed down enough that he's looking more just like a hairier, scruffier version of his typical self.]
Wish I could answer that. It just sort of happened, y'know...? And I'm not the only one. People all over the city started changing too, completely without warning. [He cocks his head, frowning skeptically.] Did you not notice? I assumed that's what your call was about.
[ As if to emphasize that, Yzak realizes that even with this distance between the two of them, perhaps enhanced due to the fact that adrenaline is high, that he can ...hear? Feel? Sense in some way Dearka's heart beating in his chest and pumping blood through his veins. It's not unlike the way one is drawn to food by its enticing scent.
And Yzak hates that immediately. It nauseates him, and he has to forcibly rip his gaze away from the other man because he notices he's in part staring at him like he's a a slab of (raw, bloody, bloody) steak. ]
I changed, too. [ His voice lowers, though it remains terse and urgent. And when he turns his gaze away from Dearka, he half turns his body as well, and tucked tightly behind him as if trying to stay hidden are a pair of smooth, leathery-looking wings that tore through the back of his outfit when they sprouted. Probably the only thing very notable since otherwise it's just the teeth and the (paler) skin. ]
Into some kind of fucking vampire because even places like this lack in any original ideas...!
[Dearka's gaze flits over to the wings, and his brow furrows in consternation as he stares for a moment. Then he tsks, as apparently, this is the last straw for him.]
What the fuck... [He lets out a scoffing laugh and rubs the back of his neck again, looking highly annoyed.] Seriously, what is this? Did it suddenly become Halloween or something while I wasn't looking? Because I'm clearly some kind of werewolf now, too... It's like we're in a bad horror movie.
[While he grouses, he moves to close the front door at least, just in case any other humans-turned-monster decide to wander in from off the street. When that's handled, he turns back to Yzak, his expression turning to one of concern.]
...Can I take a look?
[At the wings. Presumably, Yzak can't investigate them very well himself...]
I wish it was Halloween because these would just be costumes instead of— this. [ That last word is spat with all of the disdain he can muster; and he's Yzak, so that's a lot.
Yzak's body language is still guarded, even if it's less so than it was just a couple of moments ago. He turns his head slightly back in Dearka's direction, peering over at him from beneath his bangs, and now takes an actual, focused moment to really look at him (even if that hyper awareness he now has for his blood is a constant hum in the back of his mind) and the changes he's undergone. Or rather, has and will be undergoing, because he barged in looking quite a bit different than he does now, didn't he? And even his own guesses about himself right now are just that: guesses, based on what he's feeling. He has no idea what Dearka's deal is.
Maybe we can get more information from the natives in town...
He still mentally tries to search for at least a single logical step toward clearer knowledge of what this is, even with everything else swirling about in his mind.
At the question, Yzak tips his head up, his brow furrowing slightly while he considers. But after a couple of moments of silence, ]
Fine.
[ He relents, of course, because it's Dearka and there's nobody else right now he'd trust more to come anywhere near him. The wings on his back give a couple of small shakes, as if Yzak is testing the waters as to how they move at all, but they don't unfurl, remaining retracted behind him. ]
They're like ... extra limbs I suddenly need to figure out how to use properly.
[It's obvious that Yzak is uncomfortable, so Dearka tries to be sensitive in his approach, walking over and gently turning the other man around with one clawed hand lightly gripping his shoulder. Mind you, 'sensitive' and 'calm' are no mean feats for him right now, because there is a persistent voice inside his head that's urging him to run run run and go cavorting about under the moonlight... But Dearka grits his newfound fangs and stubbornly shoves that voice aside, and keeps his focus on his partner's well-being.
Looking at the wings up close, he's honestly more than a little unsettled, seeing two entirely new limbs jutting out from where there definitely weren't any before. Luckily he's standing behind Yzak, and he manages not to say anything or make any sound in reaction. Unlike certain other overexpressive idiots that I play. But... It does make his stomach turn a little. They've seen some shit as soldiers, but this is a level of body horror that he wasn't expecting to ever have to deal with.]
You're not kidding... It's almost like you've got an extra set of arms back here now.
[...Okay maybe that wasn't the most 'sensitive' thing he could have said but, whatever! He's not going to sugar coat it! Dearka himself is currently sporting a new bushy tail out the back of his jeans, but somehow that doesn't feel anywhere near as odd by comparison.]
You said you think you're a vampire, yeah? I'm assuming you're making that guess based off more than just the wings and the fangs...
[While he talks, he carefully takes two of the little 'fingers' of one wing and sort of... Spreads them apart very slightly, so he can get a closer look at the wing membrane.]
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tfln time
Some woman just walked up to me at this bar and proclaimed that I looked like a "shady motherfucker."
honks my clown nose
Wow. Someone should probably tell her that it's COMMANDER Shady Motherfucker, actually.
clown to clown communication
The only thing she's getting told is to fuck off.
I wasn't even looking at her! Who just walks up to someone and says something like that!?
Not to mention something so WRONG.
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True. Can't say "shady" is a word *I* would pick to describe you.
[No comment on the "motherfucker" part though!]
Don't take it too personally. I bet she was just drunk off her ass.
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That makes it worse! Don't they say alcohol just makes people tell the truth?
That means she actually believes it!
[ And that's worse than just saying it to be an asshole! ]
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Come on... Maybe she was just saying it on a bet or something. You don't know for sure.
What happened afterwards?
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If she was acting on a bet, I'd love to find out from who!
But as it stands, she walked away, and I had better things to do than pay attention to where she went!
[ Because by the time his flabbergasted brain realized what she said to him she was gone. ]
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But that means Yzak now swings back to his pin from a couple of moments ago. ]
What word would you use, then? Since you just said you wouldn't use shady to describe me.
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[xim] something something post game
And that hurts a hell of a lot.
Because life was always something Yzak looked at and had a path ahead of him for. Sure, before the Ximilia that path wasn't perfect and there were some things he'd gazed ahead at and didn't want to get closer to, but it was something all the same. He wasn't so keen on making a huge fuss about it, because he was lucky to even have a life and a future at all. And it was still difficult at times to feel as though he deserved even that. His time on the Ximilia changed everything, turned everything he'd ever expected of himself and his life straight onto its head. And he realized he did, perhaps, deserve more than he felt he did, and thus, deserved to look at the path ahead of him and make it into something he went down willingly. Ran down, even, because it was something he wanted, wholeheartedly, for himself.
But then he lost everything.
So here he stands in the rubble of those crumbled dreams, old path abandoned and impossible to return to because he's changed so much, and nothing ahead of him now because everything he wanted on that path and the person he wanted to walk it with is gone. And he wonders still if perhaps he didn't deserve and shouldn't have wanted at all and this was all some punishment for daring to reach for something so good. Now he not only has to have a painful reminder of that because he's got to begin to walk in some direction again, but he has to do so when the 'him' who stood here in this bedroom last feels like a completely different person than who stands here now.
Yzak is at his window because he figured he could at least deal with the immediate. And he's looking out because he's taking a note of the clusters of blue hourglass shapes he can see in the night sky, making the calculations of which cluster is which, seeing December and Januarius, and...
The PLANTs are intact; all colonies within each of the two clusters standing.
I did it.
What he'd sought out to do, spent the last near three years of his life to accomplish. It's a balm on his otherwise tumultuous and hurting heart because those millions of lives, of his people who he swore his own life to and whose deaths have haunted him since, were saved. He feels a pride that he hasn't felt so strongly in a while swell up in his chest ... but even that victory, it's only his, isn't it? Nobody else would be any wiser about the truth, unless Yzak decided to tell them. And if he did, he'd probably sound fucking insane.
For now, he's tired. Victory always brings some form of exhaustion, doesn't it? Not to mention there are a lot of things he's going to need to figure out, and fast.
He'll begin to do that tomorrow, once he's rested and feels, perhaps, that he really is home and that this isn't just some sort of fucked up dream.
What he also does is something that anyone who knows him would find peculiar: he takes off work. A few days, he figures, so he can sort himself out. Thankfully, he's got a great team working under him who can easily pick up the slack (and truly, he has no idea whatsoever what he was working on before he left, it's been so long) and he usually doesn't leave slack needing to be picked up in the first place. Still, his absence in the main office is something that won't go unnoticed the next day when he doesn't come in and any inquiries will only be met with a just as uninformative "Major Jule has requested the next few days off. No, he didn't explain why. I wonder if something's come up?" ]
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Dearka could just call ahead; at least send an email or something to check in, see what the deal is. But let's be real: the relationship he has with Yzak is one of mutual trust, with boundaries as unique as their history together is long. It really isn't all that weird for them to just drop in on one another without much warning. So that's exactly what he does: he rolls up on Yzak's pad with little more than a quick text to let him know his intention to visit.
No room for argument is permitted; 10 minutes later, there's a knock at the door, and Dearka's voice calling out from the other side in his typical casual drawl.]
Oi, Yzak... You in there? It's me.
[He fishes his... Phone or whatever, out of his pocket to check and see if Yzak actually sent him a message back, having not bothered to look until now.]
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Hearing Dearka's voice for the first time in so long is quite another.
And for sure something he wasn't ready for, because that was part of the point of taking off for a few days. (that, and his mother has, thankfully, chose the perfect time to return to Martius City for some personal affairs when she's a bit lower on the list on Things He Wants To Deal With so Yzak was lucky enough to return to an empty home) But leave it to Dearka to show up anyway, because if anyone could sense something off in Yzak, it's him.
He did in fact send a message back. A short I've got some things to take care of. in hopes that sounding busy would at least deter him enough to just keep things to text. But lo and behold, he's arrived and Yzak can't even be surprised about that.
Part of him doesn't even want to answer the door. If he didn't already think of at least some ways he could mitigate questions or avoid some things for now altogether, he wouldn't. But he knows that despite everything, Dearka can be just as stubborn as he can if he's got the right motivation to be, and this would be one of those times. Still, there's a very long stretch of silence before Yzak calls back from behind the door. ]
Hang on a second.
[ Unfortunately there's not much he can do about the pair of scars just over his left eye aside from whatever obscuring his bangs does for it. But one thing he has figured out for the time being is an easy way to hide his prosthetic arm, which would be a lot more 'what the fuck' inducing. Someone doesn't disappear for a couple of days and come back having lost a limb, recovering from it, and getting a prosthetic put in place. Sure, the solution to that is just "wear long sleeves and a glove" but it's a temporary solution all the same, until he can figure out how he's going to explain it. So once he's gloved up, the door finally swings open.
And he can't help but stare for a long moment as if he's seeing some kind of ghost because it's been so long since he's actually seen Dearka outside of dreams and/or fucked up memory shares. A simultaneous hurt because it's by far the longest he's gone without his presence and support (though at least he didn't think he was dead this time around...) but a relief because he's there, right in front of him and probably more than ready to offer it now.
Yzak just isn't sure if he wants to go all in on accepting said support. At least not immediately. (because he knows he's going to get it one way or another)
So for now, once that initial beat passes and he mentally kicks himself to get it together: ]
What is it?
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Dearka frowns, cocks an eyebrow, and stares right back for another long moment, searching his friend's face. He's not sure what he's expecting to find, exactly... Just, hints, he supposes, as to what he's about to walk into here. Unfortunately, he's not finding much... Although he does note it looks like there's something a bit weird going on above Yzak's one eye. He doesn't comment on that yet though; he just logs it, and finally speaks up, that easy-going smile of his returning.]
Just wanted to check in... Not like you to call out of work so suddenly like that. Got us all a bit worried.
[There's an unspoken addition: All of us, but especially me. Because even if Yzak does occasionally have to miss work for whatever reason, at the very least he'll almost always tell Dearka the details in private.]
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Not even this can be easy, huh. When it feels like Yzak's lost so much already. Sure, Dearka is right here in front of him, but... in a way he feels like he's lost him too, after all this time.
He frowns, and it's not edged with the usual sharpness he'd have. ]
It's like I told the office, I had ... something come up that needed - needs my immediate attention.
[ There's an apologetic tone to his voice, because time may have passed, but he can still pick up that extra layer of unspoken concern coming from Dearka that hits more personally. Yzak takes a step back, an offer for him to come in if he pleases. ]
Were you on your way somewhere?
[ The question is also an offer; if Dearka was just making a pit stop here or would rather be elsewhere ... he'll come along. ]
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Nowhere urgent to be today. I guess that's another reason why I'm here... I suppose I just missed seeing your smiling face.
[There's a sort of sardonic edge to his words, but he grins and winks as he moves to slip past, taking Yzak up on his invitation. Since Dearka's off-duty at the moment, he's in casual dress, and so he slouches by with one hand shoved in a pocket... But the other hand? That he uses to try and give his friend a little drive-by, reassuring pat on the shoulder as he passes...
...And then he stops short when he feels hard metal hidden beneath the fabric.]
Hmm...? [He squints.] Are you... Wearing body armor under here or something...?
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!!
[ He immediately tenses up when Dearka's hand clamps down on his shoulder, feeling that extra weight press on where the housing system connects to the nerves in his body.
Shit.
Well, so much for that genius idea he had about keeping his arm under wraps until he could figure out how to explain it to anyone. Way to go, Yzak! Even it being Dearka hardly makes the sudden surge of panic feel any better. He jerks the arm away, sidestepping with a turn to pull back a small distance. And in that small window of time Dearka speaks and Yzak replies quickly, without thinking, in some desperate attempt to save this. ]
—Yes I am!
[ And then it hangs there for a long moment, his expression tense, strained, staring straight into Dearka's eyes. Yzak was never a good liar and still isn't. It's one thing if he had to lie or cover for something with Dearka, it was different when he had to go on a mission and act like he belonged there - that was business, that was work, that was for the sake of a goal. But something like this?
Even Yzak knows his expression betrays him right now and there's no proper way to bullshit his way out of this. ]
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Not only is Yzak a terrible liar, but Dearka's not an idiot. That overblown reaction pings his attention immediately, and his expression grows both serious and suspicious.]
Yzak, what are you...?
[He looks the frazzled commander up and down, and that's when he fully clocks the gloves too. He doesn't know what they mean? But something about them in tandem with the shoulder thing and Yzak's cagey behavior fills him with an odd sense of foreboding.
Carefully, he reaches back and closes the door, not once taking his eyes off his friend while he does so.
He doesn't... Say anything. He wants to see what Yzak has to say first.]
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we gonna be suckin more than blood here
Dearka! Where are you!?
Respond, damn it!
I sent out my coordinates. I don't care when you get this message, go to them! That's an order!
[ Wherever this is, however they got there, the facts are: it's affected them, and in such a way they've never experienced before. Yzak noticed the changes in himself immediately, overcome by an intense, deep hunger unlike anything he's ever felt. And that hunger ... didn't even feel like it was near how much more deeper it could go.
So, urgent with the sudden helplessness he feels, he reaches for the two things he can rely on: Dearka, who he's also just as concerned about if he's going through something similar which is why he sends those messages out to him as quickly as he does, and himself. He aims to lessen that feeling of powerlessness as much and as quickly as possible, to seize a feeling of control over this, and in order to do that he needs to figure out what's changed in him and why, and how to fix or deal with it. And it doesn't take him very long. He looks down at his hands, notes the pallor of his already pale skin - and really this is Yzak Jule he's already kind of a pasty motherfucker so it speaks volumes that he notices the change. And when he rushes to the bathroom so he can look at himself ... he sees nothing but the wall behind him in the mirror.
He's read more than enough folklore to know what's going on here. And yet it's still hard to wrap his head around. (also, why couldn't he turn into something less cliche than a vampire with how many actual interesting folkloric creatures there are out there! (ugh, damn it, I'd rather not turn into anything at all!))
By the time Dearka responds or arrives, Yzak's informed enough on his end that he's calmed down at least a little bit from the initial panic. And yet ... he realizes now that the hunger he feels is a craving for blood, and part of the intensity of that is tinged with a ... ferocity that concerns him. Something loud deep inside of him that begs to be sated because if he lets it grow it may become too much to bear before his body simply acts despite his wishes. ]
Damn it...
[ He mutters to himself, pacing back and forth as the thumb of his hand slid just beneath his top lip presses and rubs against a long, and very sharp fang. ]
tries not to make a "let's get knotty" joke; fails.
Also not dissimilar: his immediate fear and concern for his partner's safety... Fear which only increases as he watches many of the strangers out on the streets begin to undergo their own changes, and proceed to leap all over each other.]
Damn it!
[He's already tearing back towards their shared living space before Yzak even calls, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.
...Well. "Fur" might be a more accurate word than "hair", actually.
His own changes had arrived as a violent maelstrom of teeth and claws which made his blood boil and his energy spike. He feels more alive and alert than ever, like the switch which controls his soldier's combat instincts is suddenly jammed into the 'on' position, and he can't even think about turning it back off. It might almost be invigorating, if it didn't feel like his heart was about to pound out of his chest. Distracting smells and sounds try to assault his heightened senses from every direction as he sprints back towards the coordinates given, but he grits his new fangs and ignores them all with a single-minded determination.
That's how a blonde-furred and harried looking wolf-man eventually comes to burst through the front door, wrenching it open with such strength and urgency that it's a wonder he doesn't smash the door itself, or rip it off its hinges.]
Yzak!
[Dearka shouts his name and screeches to a halt at the threshold, filling up the doorway, breathing heavily for a moment. His eyes are wild, and his clothes are shredded in some places; his changes came with a lot more alterations to his very skeletal structure, so his somewhat lanky and typically relaxed frame now hulking and tensed. All this at the cost of several popped seams and slashes in the fabric of his clothing, the latter likely caused by clumsy, unfamiliar claws.
He's almost unrecognizable like this, with the face of a beast, his teeth bared and gleaming white.
But... When he sees that Yzak is still here, and he's at least still in one piece, his expression relaxes into something much more obviously Dearka. The snout recedes. He shrinks down a bit, reaches up to rub the back of his neck and lets out an over-exaggerated sigh of relief.]
Thank god... Oi, Yzak; you didn't have to scare me like that, you know.
you did knot just do that
What in the absolute fuck is that?
It all happens in about two-second's time. He heard Dearka's voice, he sees this monstrous-looking creature, so clearly this thing attacked him? Yzak does what any logical man would do under that extremely wrong assumption, he goes for the pistol he carries on him with alarming speed, bringing it up and pointing it directly at the beast. His whole body tenses, jaw clenched and teeth grit. Finger over the trigger, it twitches, ready to fire if it moves even an inch. It stopping in the doorway gives Yzak that extra precious moment to look it over and try to make out any best place to land a shot on its body to protect himself.
And to realize his huge mistake here, when he notices those tattered clothes look ... familiar?
Yzak's expression melts from ready to kill to one of confusion, of dawning realization as Dearka's own demeanor and thus, physical appearance shifts a bit. ]
... Dearka...?
[ His grip on the gun eases, and he brings his arms down, even if the rest of him still looks like it's in defense mode.
And Dearka is saying he scared him? ]
What the hell happened to you!?
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At Yzak's question he snorts, letting his hands drop again. By this point he's calmed down enough that he's looking more just like a hairier, scruffier version of his typical self.]
Wish I could answer that. It just sort of happened, y'know...? And I'm not the only one. People all over the city started changing too, completely without warning. [He cocks his head, frowning skeptically.] Did you not notice? I assumed that's what your call was about.
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[ As if to emphasize that, Yzak realizes that even with this distance between the two of them, perhaps enhanced due to the fact that adrenaline is high, that he can ...hear? Feel? Sense in some way Dearka's heart beating in his chest and pumping blood through his veins. It's not unlike the way one is drawn to food by its enticing scent.
And Yzak hates that immediately. It nauseates him, and he has to forcibly rip his gaze away from the other man because he notices he's in part staring at him like he's a a slab of (raw, bloody, bloody) steak. ]
I changed, too. [ His voice lowers, though it remains terse and urgent. And when he turns his gaze away from Dearka, he half turns his body as well, and tucked tightly behind him as if trying to stay hidden are a pair of smooth, leathery-looking wings that tore through the back of his outfit when they sprouted. Probably the only thing very notable since otherwise it's just the teeth and the (paler) skin. ]
Into some kind of fucking vampire because even places like this lack in any original ideas...!
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A what?!
[Dearka's gaze flits over to the wings, and his brow furrows in consternation as he stares for a moment. Then he tsks, as apparently, this is the last straw for him.]
What the fuck... [He lets out a scoffing laugh and rubs the back of his neck again, looking highly annoyed.] Seriously, what is this? Did it suddenly become Halloween or something while I wasn't looking? Because I'm clearly some kind of werewolf now, too... It's like we're in a bad horror movie.
[While he grouses, he moves to close the front door at least, just in case any other humans-turned-monster decide to wander in from off the street. When that's handled, he turns back to Yzak, his expression turning to one of concern.]
...Can I take a look?
[At the wings. Presumably, Yzak can't investigate them very well himself...]
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Yzak's body language is still guarded, even if it's less so than it was just a couple of moments ago. He turns his head slightly back in Dearka's direction, peering over at him from beneath his bangs, and now takes an actual, focused moment to really look at him (even if that hyper awareness he now has for his blood is a constant hum in the back of his mind) and the changes he's undergone. Or rather, has and will be undergoing, because he barged in looking quite a bit different than he does now, didn't he? And even his own guesses about himself right now are just that: guesses, based on what he's feeling. He has no idea what Dearka's deal is.
Maybe we can get more information from the natives in town...
He still mentally tries to search for at least a single logical step toward clearer knowledge of what this is, even with everything else swirling about in his mind.
At the question, Yzak tips his head up, his brow furrowing slightly while he considers. But after a couple of moments of silence, ]
Fine.
[ He relents, of course, because it's Dearka and there's nobody else right now he'd trust more to come anywhere near him. The wings on his back give a couple of small shakes, as if Yzak is testing the waters as to how they move at all, but they don't unfurl, remaining retracted behind him. ]
They're like ... extra limbs I suddenly need to figure out how to use properly.
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Looking at the wings up close, he's honestly more than a little unsettled, seeing two entirely new limbs jutting out from where there definitely weren't any before. Luckily he's standing behind Yzak, and he manages not to say anything or make any sound in reaction.
Unlike certain other overexpressive idiots that I play.But... It does make his stomach turn a little. They've seen some shit as soldiers, but this is a level of body horror that he wasn't expecting to ever have to deal with.]You're not kidding... It's almost like you've got an extra set of arms back here now.
[...Okay maybe that wasn't the most 'sensitive' thing he could have said but, whatever! He's not going to sugar coat it! Dearka himself is currently sporting a new bushy tail out the back of his jeans, but somehow that doesn't feel anywhere near as odd by comparison.]
You said you think you're a vampire, yeah? I'm assuming you're making that guess based off more than just the wings and the fangs...
[While he talks, he carefully takes two of the little 'fingers' of one wing and sort of... Spreads them apart very slightly, so he can get a closer look at the wing membrane.]
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i don't have any smooching icons so you get this,
this, what this man is attracted to... also 1/2
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