open log - but I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more

[staytofight]

CHARACTERS: Good ol' Garrett and you!
LOCATION: THE SHIIIIP. That's not vague at all. Starts Dec. 10th, but whenever time this week you want.
WARNINGS: He might sniff your character. Super secretly. He's also pretty good at overhearing things with his magical vampire ears, if you wanna do something like that. If your character is injured, he'll probably swivel and leave. Generally, if you have an idea for something, just let me know! Warnings for him thinking about how yummy your human character smells, I guess. /sunglasses
SUMMARY: Garrett is a curious mind. Cue him getting into people's business and trying to figure out how a big space ship actually works.



Garrett's been in and out of places around here--mainly the med bay. He's quick enough that swiping the blood packs isn't so difficult, though he's starting to notice there's not... as big a stigma against the supernatural around here. In fact, it's kinda spooky. Twilight Zone, that's what it is.

The synthetic blood isn't that great, but he's a trooper. Total trooper.

...

Okay, he takes some of the real goods, and it legitimately takes effort to peel himself away from the med bay, instead of tearing the place apart and drinking it all until sated. But he manages. He's not ingesting nearly as much blood at a time like he would back home, but he's decently fed. He still eyeballs the animals in the gardens with a thoughtful expression, because. Well. He's had animals on the mind since he went to Forks and spoke with the Denalis...

Wonder what cow tastes like?

He climbs around through the latter levels of the garden, where the jungles are. The deeper he goes, the less people are around, which is great because he just loves stretching his legs. It's as close to Earth as he could be, and anything's better than nothing. Eventually he takes a break to lay in the usual gardens, eavesdropping where he's able while he pretends to sleep. He admittedly like this particular place a lot. Nice to gather thoughts, and not too many people bump into you.

He also visits the kitchens, even if he doesn't eat or drink. Because why not? Hey, just because someone doesn't drink doesn't mean they can't visit the bar. Even if it is a wasted opportunity. He couldn't help but wonder how where they were keeping all the supplies. Did they just... have a big room full of crap, swap it out when they need more? ... And is this a space microwave or something?

Might as well visit the shuttle bay, too. Though a lot of his exploration there consists of 'what's this button doooo'? For most of his thoroughly lazy wandering, he decides to venture off into the hallways. He's really honestly hoping he runs into something dangerous and unknown, because that just sounds exciting, especially on a mystery ship like this. He'd rather know what he's dealing with here before it decides to come to him, but who knows how good his luck is in that department. Heck, not too much interesting to see... Some drawings from time to time... some creepy doors.

Wonder how much it'd take to punch through any of this.

Though he's not really discouraged, and empty hallways ain't no scary thang. He likes having a lot of places to walk, and considering he can go without food and water, he can go through the place for a few days without any trouble. What's sleep? Nothin', that's what. He barely remembers how sleep feels.

Maybe he'll run into some mystery company while he's out and about? Might smell you before you see him, though. Or maybe he'll just run into you. Whatchu' doing out in the halls Heather?

... He's really sorry if he looks like a creepy silhouette, HE'S NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE GODDAMMIT, IT'S TOTALLY THE COAT.

Not that he enjoys jump scares or anything.

Comments

[yardbird]

What's that about the cow, Garrett?

Of course, it's not like Murphy's got a sixth sense or anything. His cow senses aren't tingling, but he does know that there are people on the ship who are less than partial to the idea of having animals on board, or in the gardens, or whatever. For what reason is beyond him. Guess not everybody can be as cuddly.

Murphy, on the other hand... Well, having been cooped up in a cage for just about ten years with minimal outside contact, he learns to appreciate the little things. Animals definitely being one of them. And there's something satisfying about looking after something that's weaker than you.

Mind, cows are not weak, and some of those fuckers can weigh a ton. But they're not necessarily smart enough to survive on their own, either. This one is no exception, and is pretty much as dumb as a sack of hammers, with not a care or knowledge in the world that half of the ship would rather make hamburgers out of it than let it exist. Doesn't make it any more or less of an asset to Murphy's ideal breakfast, either, just... he has different ideas in mind. Between all the livestock combined, the quickest way through someone's heart is through their stomach, and Murphy quite likes his omelets.

Yeah.

Plus he made a deal with Jaye to help look after it when he had time. And Murphy had time. Considerably less of it than he used to, all things considered, but Murphy Pendleton backs down from no promises. Kind of.

In any case, it's not uncommon to hear people coming and going through the gardens, be it for one of the agriculture jobs or just plain curiosity. Murphy ignores it for the most part, because he's got a book, and books are way more interesting than your silly roaming vampire shenanigans.

Okay, Murphy really has no idea what is going on. Whatever.

[staytofight]

Well, good. It only takes a second or two, maybe an odd little soft whistle of wind—should Murphy look up to see what the heck that could've been, he'll find a figure in a long coat standing closer to the cow. He smiles at the poor creature, but it's not like he has any plans to butcher it—smart enough to recognize there aren't a large number of animals aboard.

(Maybe he can catch himself a feral cat? Warm blood would be so nice right now...)

Y'know, if he drank blood from a cow...

"This would probably be the closest I'll ever get to a cheeseburger." Dammit all, it's not fair. Human food tastes awful now, and y'know... not like he could even digest it.

All the while, the cow just stares blankly at him.

Do you even know something's talking about how you'd taste, cow? DO YOU?

[yardbird]

Spoilers: Cows are stupid as shit. There's a reason why it's so low on the food chain.

Also, Murphy is quick to draw his attention to the whistle just then. It's not a very drafty place, despite the location.

...He doesn't recognize this guy, though Murphy isn't that social butterfly who knows everyone in town. Can't see his number to see if he's new, either.

Murphy snaps the book shut and slowly pushes himself up off the ground. Don't know you? No problem. He'll figure out whether or not you're actually serious about that cheeseburger talk or not...

"Probably..." Murphy warily agrees. "Though you'd need the cow's milk to make the cheese, and that's kinda messed up."

Just the idea of cooking burgers with the same milk and cheese made from the same animal... There's a disgusting sense of morbidity to it. But who knows, maybe that suits this guy's fancy.

[staytofight]

He scrunches his nose. What did milk and cheese taste like again? You're totally ruining him daydreaming about planting his teeth into this creature's neck. Not that he was going to. Totally reiterating that.

"The circle of life can be pretty messed up in general, don't you think?"

Arms folded, he looks back at the animal thoughtfully.

"Poor animal doesn't have much going on upstairs. Anyone try to turn him into steaks yet? I can only imagine some people get brave like that."

[yardbird]

Sorry, Garrett, but you seem to have been met with a terrible fate a professional buzzkill. Anything Murphy says can and will be used to ruin any pleasant hamburger dreams you might have had.

Murphy also hates the circle of life. Fuck the circle of life.

He swings his arms out in a kind of big shrug. "Well. Some talked 'bout it, but haven't tried."

Not yet.

[justamobster]

Somewhere between the normal hang-out spots on the ship, Ladon has found himself a comfortable spot to do what he does best... Stew in his own thoughts and smoke like a chimney. Of his ridiculous care package courtesy of the Tranquility, the cigarettes and the real, authentic whisky from home are appreciated, and so he's taking some time to himself to enjoy both, away from his room, his mask which has been even harder to resist wearing, and the damn burnt-up doll that has been a source of his near constant bad mood.

While Nieve had taught Ladon to keep himself busy, the first twenty-two years of his life had been spent in a cave. When he wasn't sneaking off to spy on humans, he had gotten used to spending a lot of time with little else but his own thoughts to amuse himself. He's found himself retreating there more and more often lately, going back to how he used to be before he learned to be a little less lizard and a little more human. After all, that's what this damned ship is, right? One massive cave, full of fake light and people, and lots of dark corners to hide in. Hell, there are even bats here, though decidedly less cute and fuzzy than he's used to.

Ha ha. Batman joke.

Anyhow. That pungent smell of campfire and gunpowder mixed with butane that just about overpowers the spicy scent of heated blood, that would be him, settled in one of the cushioned chairs in a random hallway lounge.

[staytofight]

foosh

Garrett isn't one to politely tell someone to stop smoking, oh no. He's never been good at controlling the compulsion to swoop in, and when something gets his eye or nose he hops right to it—like anything that bothers him, he fixes it quickly. That's why there's a fast, breezy blur rushing by Ladon; soon there's a vampire standing a few feet away from him with the most grossed out look on his face, and in one hand, there's the cigarette that Ladon just had between his fingers.

"You know what drives me crazy? Cigarettes. You know these things are death traps in a tiny tube, right?"

Also it's ruining his sense of smell, and it just tears at his vampire compulsion to run away from fire or smoke or anything that could potentially kill him. Sure, a cig isn't much, but it's the thought. He puts it out on the sole of his shoe speedily.

He looks over with a squinty scowl.

"Then again, the smell of your blood is just as unappetizing... What are you?"

What are you, and should he not like you, is the question. Sure, he should keep his distance at some mystery creature, especially with how he reeks, but hey. Yolo (or maybe not, in his case).

[justamobster]

This is the glare of an insulted man. Call him stupid, call him a nance, call him any name in the book, but don't take Ladon Ceto's cigarettes away. Especially in a place where they're a precious commodity. Maybe in Nieve he'd shrug these kind of shenanigans off, but it's a different story in space.

Of course, the superhuman speed and the fact that the asshole picked up on his scent says something. Namely, "hello, I'm not human, and neither are you." Ladon's not thrilled with deceiving humans, but at least this is the kind of confrontation he rarely has to deal with when he's surrounded by normies.

"Gimme my 'death trap' back, pal, and you won't haveta find out the hard way."

[staytofight]

Hoooo, he is so so interested in what that might entail. And what began as partial interest and mostly the most frivolous annoyance has turned into that usual curiosity a man would do well to set aside. If he wants to be safer than sorry, anyway.

Garrett is not one of those men. He hardly seems intimidated by the threat, a friendly quirk of his brow and lips an indicator of anything but malice.

"... Tell me about yourself, and you have my word I'll give it back."

Otherwise he'll just make a run for it and you'll never see your stupid cigarette never ever again! Neener neener, and all that.

[justamobster]

"Not before I know who and what's askin'." Let's play magical creature chicken, shall we? Ladon's paranoid enough about his little secret that he's not about to just blab without a good idea who he's blabbing to. He has a feeling this guy is non-human, but he's met some strange humans in his time, some capable of that speed and dexterity. And some dangerous non-humans. For all he knows, he could be talking to one of the fae Toby had warned him about back on Sacrosanct.

"After all, I was just mindin' my business. Ain't polite to go givin' a fella the shake down without introducin' yourself."

[bloodplay]

There is absolutely zero clever subterfuge involved on Brian's part and no ineptitude on Garrett's when the former catches sight of the latter; if he hadn't just kind of happened to be walking in to start his shift (which he is in fact late to), this meeting would never have occurred. But he does, and as he comes through, slipping one arm through the remaining unfilled sleeve of his lab coat, he notices... something. Motion, maybe, or just a noise, depending on what Lee Vampace is currently up to! Even he isn't certain of who or what it is, though he's not unduly concerned. All sorts of people filter in and out of Medical, a considerable amount of whom are not, strictly speaking, people. If there's an unwelcome intruder, they at least had the manners to pick an area full of readily available scalpels.

All of which would shatter on his Twilight vampire skin, but details, details. His eyes narrow slightly, in focus rather than malice. After all, it might be a monster of unknowable horror, but at least it's not Deb.

"Hey," he says to nobody in particular, his voice resting calmly in a register that could only be more casual if actual finger pistols were involved. It's a voice, and a face, that might be somewhat more familiar if it weren't for the very functional cardiovascular system. "Hope you weren't waiting long -- things got a little out of hand on the way over. You need help finding anything?"

He has no real idea whether or not this is even a sentient being, but apparently it's a patient until proven otherwise. Go figure.

[staytofight]

A shadow drags swiftly, casting over Brian for just a moment before the room seems empty all over again. In this moment where Garrett is moving, he sees the man's profile (slow, very detailed and precise) and as he rounds the corner and waits there, he instantly knows that face.

... Yet another. He had his own twin here, but now him, too?

He doesn't come out from around the corner where he's hidden, but he's hardly afraid of a human. What would he possibly do, try to stab him with some flimsy scalpels? Pshah. He could, in theory, just run by and take what he wants. Run back out. He could probably even spill the man's throat all over the ground if he'd been like half the vampires he's met.

Though with the blood close at hand, his focus is limited.

He'll try to drown it out with curiosity. He speaks at the wall in front of him, but he's all ears for the look-a-like in the adjoining medical room.

"You know, most people in a room by themselves who notice something eerie tend to flee very quickly."

[bloodplay]

LOOK UNDER YOUR SEATS, YOU GET A DOPPELGANGER, AND YOU GET A DOPPELGANGER, AND YOU GET A DOPPELGANGER

"Most people don't wake up on an abandoned spaceship that redefines the meaning of the word." He cocks his head to the side a little, apparently unperturbed, but his eyes zero in on the corner from which the voice emanates. Either this is one ugly patient or he's got something with him he'd rather other parties not see. If his mind jumps to stolen equipment, it's no reflection on present company; after all, that's exactly why he works here. "But hey -- here we are. Maybe I've resigned myself to fate."

This could not be further from the truth, given the latest jump's circumstances, but Brian's still remarkably relaxed. If he could see Garrett in all his Hot Topic glory, he might slightly reevaluate the situation, but the truth is that he doesn't spook easily, even under much direr circumstances than this. It's a thing that tends to happen when you're only capable of feeling a minute range of emotions, 90% of them violent!

"Just for the record, though. Was that a comment, or advice?"

[staytofight]

"Both. But I'm not about to cause for any alarm for you, if that's what you're worried about." He doesn't come out yet, though, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets--hey, you don't need to look at each other to hold a conversation, you know.

But dammit all, he's curious what person that face is now, instead of a cold-bodied, amber-eyed vampire he's used to. Eleazar was a gentle, well-educated man, who knew how to speak and when to speak; Garrett really had a fondness for him. For the whole Denali family, it goes to show.

"You look like someone from my world. Is that always such a common problem here?"

[bloodplay]

That's something Brian doesn't hear too often. Or ever. Mostly ever. His eyebrows are steadily making their way up that familiar face, but he doesn't look entirely displeased with the news -- not that Garrett can actually tell, but whatever.

"Can't say I've ever gotten that one before," he says, shoulders rising in a half-formed shrug. "But it's not unheard of. Starts to get a little creepy, when you see the sixth guy with the same face."

There's the sound of measured footsteps as he approaches a cabinet.

"I take it you're not a big fan."

[sweetmotherofgod]

She'd promised to be careful.

That had been a line of crap and she'd been called on it, fair enough, so she'd promised to at least be smarter and that's why Heather is currently wandering the hallways wearing Tillman's big-ass old hobocoat, her hands sunk deep into the huge pockets. And yeah, maybe her late-night walkabouts didn't go so well last time but there's only so long someone can stare at their ceiling in frustrated sleeplessness before they just have to move.

Or maybe that's just her. Either way, it's late enough that she's pretty sure she won't be disturbing anyone. Hopefully.

[staytofight]

Nope, nope, won't be disturbing a soul, sweetheart. He just happens to be ahead of her--though he's not finding anything too interesting. Which is a bitter little disappointment, and really he's practically egging on this giant horrorship mentally. Is this all there is to you, ship? A few nonhumans, a few magician hallways? Too easy. Surely there's an eye of the proverbial storm he's standing in the middle of?

Garrett almost swears his ears catch something, but it's cut off by another noise.

He turns and hears the footsteps slowly growing, but it's not like he's one to run away from the smallest sound of company. His body has already had its share of blood from the med bay, cold as it was (have you ever eaten a half-thawed TV dinner, Heather? That's the sorrows of blood packs). He just shrugs and starts in their direction, wondering who it could possibly be. Isn't it dangerous out here, according to the usual warning?

He pokes his head around a corner, seeing the young woman--good god, you're all babies around here, look at you. It's going to be a little easier to evade his natural desire to feast when everyone looks like they've barely had a life lived so far.

"Wandering out by yourself can be dangerous, you know."

He's got his big bulky coat as well, though that's mostly in case he finds anything worth carrying around. He has been wandering through the halls for a good two days straight now.

[sweetmotherofgod]

That phrasing gets her hackles right up, and she's not totally sure why. Sure, it's patronizing -- you'd think in a place like this people would let go of some of their assumptions about who is and isn't safe -- but there's a little itch in the back of her mind, a little spike of warning that has her readjusting her right hand in its pocket, fingers tracing out the shape of the taser sitting in there. More to reassure herself that it's there than anything else.

"Don't see you with a buddy," she says, and it's almost conversational.

[staytofight]

I'm just a patronizing kinda guy. But in all seriousness, he'd frown at the idea that she could wander into the vast expanse and accidentally get lost (which you have, Heather). Sure, he's not too tore up about people dying around him, but still. He needs the company! And life has value, and all that. Look, does he really need an exact reason why he likes people to stay alive?

Hands deep in his pockets, he steps out--where bedhead is hardly threatening, the pale, red-eyed man looking back might look a wee bit intimidating. Especially in the less lit area. But he'll try to combat that by walking more into the light.

"Because I'm a moron."

Bein' totally honest here! Or... partially. Just not gonna mention the whole 'I'm more difficult to ambush and murder' thing.

"People here keep telling me of horrors around here--I've been fortunate enough to avoid those, I suppose."

[sweetmotherofgod]

Gaaaaah. Okay, she's getting used to people with strange appearances - there are a bunch of grey kids running around, there's a chick who looks a hell of a lot like a pile of rocks - but this guy does not look healthy. And no, stepping into the light doesn't help when you're moving from shadows where your eyes could conceivably been brown into a well-lit area where they look like fresh blood, what's wrong with you?

She takes a step back before she realizes she's doing it and stands her ground, because hell if she's gonna let some heroin-chic motherfucker scare her off. He's not scary.

Much.

"Fresh meat, huh? Maybe whatever's next'll go after you, give the rest of us a break."

Rude, even for her, but her lizard brain is screaming run and it makes her pissy. She doesn't run, damn it, especially not from people who look like they've escaped from a low-budget music video.

[inspirited]

[Between all the things going on this month, it was very different than usual or at least quieter than Chuck had expected. She was just wandering around a bit more out of habit than anything right now before she decided to make her way through the hallways to head back to her room]

let me know if this is okay :')

[staytofight]

[Garrett was just minding his own, really. It's not like he's unused to the sounds, sights, and smells of human beings all around him--an inexperienced vampire or newborn he is not. Of course, there's always curiosity, and when he catches a scent on the air that catches his attention... well.

Hard to resist the temptation.

Smells like death. Death and something else, anyway. And maybe even a little like Ned, if she were involved a-plenty with his pie-making or his clothes or anything of the sort; vampires tend to have great bloodhound noses like that.

But the 'dead' smell, he's more curious about.

He gives pause around the corner, an eyebrow furrowed; the sound of clicking steps are approaching before she's close, but it hardly bothers him. What exactly was she...? She smells plenty human.

Strange.

He pops his head around the corner at her, unaware of who she was.]

Do you like honey?

totally okay with me!

[inspirited]

[Before she even gets to the corner, Chuck just comes to a stop if only because of the person she just happened to run into. She just stares at him for a moment more out of surprise than anything else because while she can easily tell he's not Ned, he does share his face and she's not sure what to make of him just yet.

The question he asked finally registered in her mind and despite the strangeness of the topic, she just smiles and nods] Honey? I do actually— any particular reason you're asking?

[staytofight]

Well, I have an excellent nose. Is that a weird thing to say? Because I definitely smelled honey when I was walking this way.

[Yeah, the face is much like Ned's, that much is true; there are obvious differences--the red eyes, the very pale face, the unruly hair and shadow of a beard-in-progress (that would, sadly, never be anything more than what it is).

Of course, even 10 minutes of dialogue with him would make him even more obviously not a pie maker. He hasn't had pie in 230 years, even. What did it taste like? The clouding flavor of blood sort of dulled out all the memories of food.

If he tried it now, it would taste like dirt.

Tragic.

He straightens up, folding his arms and smiling playfully. But all the while, the undead gears in his head are turning, wondering what is so positively 'off' about her. Yes, she's alive. He practically feels the warmth rolling off her skin in waves, hears a body in the process of living--ba-dum, ba-dum. Though, there's a lingering scent that he's familiar with, and not just that of the dead.]

Are you secretly a bee in disguise?

I would hardly be surprised.

[Joking, of course, but on second thought... already ran into an elf and a dragon lately. What's new? A bee woman, that's what'd be new. What is his non-life even spiraling into, on this horror ship?]

[inspirited]

Not weird at all. That isn't the first time someone has mentioned that to me. [If only because she had experiences with a couple of others who who could say the same thing.

Honey and death was what she was said to smell like and although he only mentioned how she smelled of honey, it was entirely possible that he could smell both if his nose was as good as he claimed it to be. That in itself should have been a warning but that didn't stop her from being friendly, after all if he got too curious then she would deal with that if it ever came up.

As he continued to speak, the differences were glaringly obvious and honestly she found it both amusing and interesting. She just shook her head and laughs slightly at his assumption about her]

Ohh not quite, I am completely human over here. I just spent a lot of time raising them back home and harvesting their honey.