2019-08-18 - Playing With Fire: Attack of the Monster Snake Chicken

Warm, but not overwarm, and a perfect 70%-gray overcast sky, like a woolen blanket from horizon to horizon: a typical PNW late-summer day. The winds haven't come up yet to shred the clouds into something more interesting to look at. It's weirdly depressing for Itzhak, who expects August to be brilliant blue skies and sweltering heat, not this half-assed whatever it is. Ugh. Stupid Washington.

He'd had some work to do, evidence to hide, so he's not in the greatest mood as he rolls up the bay doors. He opens his violin case, gets out the instrument and starts tuning. Who knew this job would give him so much time to practice.

Julia, on the other hand, loves this weather. If she walks in to the strains of music, so much the better - she'll try to make her way in without Itzhak noticing her. But if he does catch her, she'll wiggle her fingers in greeting before taking a hipshot stance and enjoying his efforts.

Itzhak's scowling over his music stand, flipping back and forth between sheet music, muttering to himself. He's so involved in it he doesn't notice Julia until he's halfway through a swift and jaunty reel, something that'd make great background music in a movie about tall ships. That's when he happens to glance up, sees her, and startles himself so bad the bow screeches across the strings. "Gah," he says, eyes wide. "Jesus, sneak up on a guy." Of course, he gets red about it, and waves the violin back at her.

Julia winces at the screech, but is unable to resist grinning at him impishly. "Sorry. I didn't want to interrupt you. I was coming by to start working with our," she twiddles her fingers, "You know. If we can gather up some stuff you don't mind getting tossed around. Varying weights, a mix of light and heavy." Looking around, she puts her hands on her hips. "But finish playing first."

"Got plenty of junk to toss around." Itzhak plays a couple notes to reset his brain, then swings back into the reel, tapping a boot to the quick rhythm. "Thought we could cross the border, too. Get you a little more used to it. I'll be here to watch ya back." His playing is fast and fluid, graceful.

She claps her hands and dances a little in place until he finishes the reel, and only then does she reply to his suggestion. "That sounds like a good idea, which may suggest that I actually am loca en la cabesa." She chuckles, suggesting, "You do the honors. I want to watch you do it, to give me an idea of how to approach it. I haven't done it on purpose yet."

"You got it." Itzhak's mood improves somewhat as Julia dances. He almost cracks a smile, watching her, as he makes the fiddle resonate through the garage.

Then--that sound.

You'd think Itzhak might have learned, from his previous encounter, not to yell at the raccoon. But when he looks around and realizes she's got his keys, he yells at her anyway. It just happens, as reflexive as blinking.

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" And he half-tosses fiddle and bow into the case and sprints across the cracked concrete.

Julia lets out a little gasp of surprise as the raccoon comes into view. "Okay, a real raccoon is nothing like the ones in Disney moves." she remarks, eyeing the creature askance. Then she's sprinting after Itzhak, with no real plan as to how she's going to actually help him with this particular problem. It's kinda funny, though.

The raccoon skedaddles and Itzhak makes a furious wordless sound behind clenched teeth--"rrrrrrrRRRRG!" Then he's got words: "You're not doing this to me again!"

"Oh, shit!" Julia says, half laughing as the beastie scuttles, and holds out her hand, palm out and fingers spread. Maybe she's thinking TUG, maybe she's thinking about bringing the keys to her, but she's clearly doing something with her powers based on her stance, even if there's no physical manifestation of her power. Will Itzhak be able to sense it? Well, maybe. But maybe not. Julia's good at hiding that sort of thing, from the senses, even if her actions make it apparent.

Itzhak invents a new curse: "Gevalt Christ!" when Julia falls across the border of reality. He shoves a hand into that ripple and follows her through, yanking the tear in the Veil over himself like a sheet. He lands on his feet, boots thumping into mushrooms and causing another whirl of dust. Itzhak coughs, covering his nose and mouth. "Augh, fuckin'... okay, so, that's how you cross the border. Ain't you glad you asked?"

@emit "OOF." Julia sneezes when she hits the ground, wiping at her face. "I didn't do anything to actually...do it." she complains, looking around and trying to bink the dust away. That being said, she rises to her feet, and holds out the keys in offering. "So somehow we've fallen into what, Alice in Wonderland Land?" Speaking of which, she starts to look around. "This is a lot of mushrooms. Are we going to get high?"

"That's why it's so fargin' hard to explain how to do it." Itzhak accepts his keys back, tucking them in his pocket. "Thanks. Uhh. To be real honest, I wouldn't be surprised if we got high, so maybe let's--" he sneezes. "Ugh." Twisting around, he eyes the ripple hanging in space. "Okay, pop quiz, how long do you feel like that's gonna stick around like that? Until it closes?"

She pauses a moment, like she's trying to get a feel for things. "My gut tells me it's not losing energy. I can sort of feel it, you know? I'm guessing you can too. And we'll both feel it if it starts to close." She peers around the cave, "What's making that sound, do you think?"

"That's what I feel about it too. It's kinda impossible to say how I feel it, kinda like a gauge, except in my brain." Itzhak sneezes again, eyes watering. "Great, I'm allergic to one-up mushrooms." He tips his head towards the sound. "I dunno, wanna go find out?" The half-grin he flashes her is delighted and cocksure. "You 'n me, we can handle just about anything."

Famous last words.

Julia flashes him a grin. "Yeah, lets. It sounds kinda young, but just because whatever or whoever it is, is young doesn't mean it's not dangerous." She snags his hand, and starts to step toward the sound.

Itzhak blinks reddening eyes when Julia grabs his hand, rough and calloused and warm in hers. He goes, "Uh--" and then the slinky fox thing is bounding towards them, followed by a familiar unloved face. Itzhak whistles sharp and the bag loses all its momentum. Except what's in the bag doesn't, rolling around in a way he didn't expect. "Crap," he mutters, grappling with it, but not with his hands. The fox thing's teeth look sharp. "Heya, Kor!" he calls, fake and jocular.

"Oh, it's so cute! What is - " Julia stops, looks over at the little...person, and then to Itzhak. "You know this, um, guy?" She turns her attention once more to the fox creature, bending a little. "Hey, cutie." she says, holding out a hand. "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

"Better get used to me, tough guy," Itzhak says, and he can't help it, he knows he's got that 'six feet of trouble' smirk on his face. Some part of him really misses people being very unhappy to see him. It gets shit done, that reaction.

Ori lunges for Julia, and Itzhak...doesn't try to prevent the critter biting her, although he's saying, "Okay, rule of thumb, no petting anything. ...Yeah she's with me, what do you mean her clan?" he says to Kor, frowning. "This's Julia. Julia, Kor." Although Julia might be slightly distracted, getting bit.

"It's okayi, cutie, i - WHOA!" Julia backs up, getting buffeted by the fox but managing to put up enough protection to keep her skin from being broken. It's only then that she skirts closer to Itzhak and rounds on the hunter. "What do you mean, my clan?" she asks, looking baffled. "I'm not from around here."

Itzhak steadies Julia with a hand on her back. "See, you're tough," he tells her, "stuff like that, you shrug off, right? It hurts, but it don't hurt. You okay?" Even though he just told her she's not hurt, he still asks that, eyebrows tilting up.

He narrows his eyes at Kor. "She ain't here, so you gotta deal with us. We're way worse. Trade. Tell us somethin' useful and I'll let you have your bag back."

Julia doesn't seem surprised that the bite doesn't truly connect, and she shoots the creature a dirty look before grinning at Itzhak. "I'm fine, promise. And you didn't mention that the unicornwas your gurrrrrrrlfrieeeeend." She waggles her brows in her best channeling of a fourh grader. She tugs on Itzhak's wrist. "Maybe he knows how to track the asylum."

Itzhak inevitably flushes as Julia teases him. "Yeah well, she's not my girlfriend--" Then there's that Sound. Itzhak's eyebrows pop all the way up. "Farmers now," he mutters, repeating the phrase to lock it in his memory. "Orochim." He makes a little tossing gesture at Kor, and the bag lands in Kor's arms. "Back across," he says to Julia, calm yet with a certain urgency. "Do it again. Just like you did before. Want it. Reach for it."

Does she want it? Boy does she want it. Julia stands still for a moment, then turns, holding her palm out like she's going to push a door open...

...and she does. The split widens itself, and the doorway opens. "Time to go?" Julia inquires. "Sorry," she adds to Kor, "I wish we had more time." Her free hand is held out to Itzhal. "Let's go?"

Itzhak's eyes get real, real big. "Oh wow," he says breathlessly. "She's beautiful." Aaaand he grabs Julia's hand. "Hit it!"

Julia doesn't wait to admire JJ. Once Itzhak has latched on, she propels herself through the doorway as fast as her legs can carry her.

If Itzhak ever thought it was beneath his dignity to scream, well, that's now thoroughly disproved.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUGH FUCK!" He hits the concrete oil-stained floor of the garage and collapses. Lots and lots of blood gushes out of his leg and adds new stains to the concrete. He grabs above his knee and screams behind locked teeth again.

"Oh, shit oh shit, um, lemme see." Julia does her best to support him, but when she tries to use some of her power to make him better, it's just too bad an injury. "Okay, shit - we're going to the store. Hopefuly August will be around..."

Itzhak's panting through his teeth, hands clenched tight around his knee, some primordial instinct telling him to hold on or everything will fall out. His mind, lit up with pain and overstimulation, touches Julia's.

<<Call the shop...tell 'em you need him it's an emergency>>

The mental voice is such a surprise, she almost drops her hold on him. Despite being capable, she has rarely had any kind of facilitated connection with anyone. But she's had it enough to not entirely freak out. "Let me get you to a chair, and then I'll call him. I think it's faster that he comes to us." Her own mind has kicked into a sort of high anxiety razor focus. "Little boxes." she murmurs, seemingly randomly, and once she can get him to someplace to sit or lay down, she pulls out her phone to call August.

"Roen," August answers; in the background there seems to be some kind of animated conversation going on. "Sorry, one second." There's the sound of the phone being lowered, then, a bit more muffled, "Did you guys book this office for a conference? Yeah, didn't think so." A sigh, then August's voice comes back, clear again. "Okay. Back."

Itzhak's mind is kind of a lot to handle right now, too, nerve signals going absolutely whackadoo. He assists Julia in hauling him to one of the thrifted armchairs, which he then bleeds all over. <<Goddammit...fucking Kor...I'm gonna kick his ass...>>

"August oh madre de dios Itzhak is bleeding and it's getting everywhere it's all over me we're at the garage can you please come because he's really really hurt and I can't fix him August how fast can you get here?" Yes, that is the exact structure and sound of Julia's voice on the phone.

There's a half-second pause, then, "Wh--I'll be right there." And August just hangs up. But his voice isn't gone long; mere seconds later, they both feel it, the roaring sound of a heavy wind rushing through densely packed trees, a river roaring down into a waterfall. August's version of straight up pounding on their mental doors in 'answer this right fucking now' fashion.

Itzhak laughs wheezily, although he's getting pale and sweaty. His mind is mostly staticked out with pain, his brain shouting WE'RE HURT! WE'RE HURT!. <<s'okay, just...got...nipped by a constrictor...>> His mental voice sounds like a plaintive violin, barely heard above the roar of the waterfall.

Julia's channel, so to speak, is blown wide open. There isn't even really a door to knock on. It's more like right now she's standing in a boat that's sinking and trying to bail it out, except the water is actually fire and the bucket is actually a bunch of shoeboxes she's trying to stack into some kind of wall. She's receiving, but so busy trying to protect herself from the pain being projected, she's too busy to try and speak.

<<Nipped? You don't feel nipped.>> Fear and anxiety pour off August, until he seems to realize how Julia is feeling, and then he pulls back. Everything about him mutes. There's a sense he's doing two things at once, one of them being this and the other probably tearing down the street at illegal speeds. Well, what did he buy a GT for? Hopefully all the beat cops are incredibly busy somewhere else. <<Just a couple minutes now.>> Benefits of a small town--it's not far between any two given points. Traffic isn't a thing.

And so it's not long before they hear the Outback pull up. The door opens and shuts, and August comes inside, wearing his usual work attire of t-shirt (Ziggy Stardust), faded jeans, and workboots. Itzhak's injury hits him and he misses a step and grabs a door track on his way in, sucks in a breath. "Shit," he says, going pale. He sways, swallows, forces himself to keep moving. "What the hell did this?" he asks, glancing at Julia to make sure she's not bleeding too before continuing on his way to Itzhak.

Itzhak's trying to keep his head above his heart but he really, really wants to slump over the damp, bloody arm of the armchair. <<...just a...ma...protectin' her babies...>> Although his tone is battlefield humor, he's also serious. He honestly doesn't blame JJ. He's holding Julia's hand (if she'll let him), breathing shallow, shocky. <<Julushka, s'okay...shut me out...you can do it>>

Julia is sort of vaguely leaning against Itzhak's chair when August makes it in, though her eyes are screwed shut and her hands are clamped over her ears. Her breathing is very deliberate, like inputting sight and sound right now would just be too much. But after a moment, and most likely at Itzhak's prompting ( little boxes little boxes little boxes ) she manages to push him out, and her eyes open, hands relaxing from her ears. "We were on the other side." she confesses to August.

August makes it over next to them, swallows back bile. His mind's swimming in memories neither of them need to see, so he pulls back from the link. The waterfall and the wind in the trees is distant, miles away. There, but not close.

He grunts in response to Julia's admission, says, "Gonna need you all to start wearing tactical armor or something." A few steadying breaths, then he crouches down next to Itzhak and takes his free hand. August is already sweating."Okay. Okay. Breathe steady, yeah? In and out. One at a time. Nice and slow."

It starts deep, like a seed buried in a prior season finally germinating. The furthest reaches of the wound sealing up, knitting together; muscle and blood vessels repairing themselves; blood shuttled back to where it should be; connective tissue and the rest following suit. A little at a time, just like the plate, and the sensation is almost identical too: a large network drawing tightly closed by a careful, calloused hand tugging a needle threaded with gleaming strands, leaving no single points of failure.

<<probably...good....idea>> Itzhak winds his bloody hand around August's. He really does look terrible. Unsurprisingly. As his flesh begins to stick back together, he sighs deep. Vessels and muscle stitch themselves back up like JJ's fang in reverse. "Least she wasn't venomous," he mutters, eyes sinking closed. His mind, in better control, brushes against theirs in soft apology. To Julia for scaring her, to August also for scaring him and making him sick.

Julia lets out a sigh of relief, shifting so she can look down at Itzhak in his seat. "Don't worry." she reassures him. "But next time, let's just throw tires at each other with our minds or something, okay?" There's a faint grin and he adds for August, "Thanks for coming so quickly. Scratches and stuff I can handle, but this was too much for me."

August is holding himself rigid by the time he's done, a fine tremor kept in check by sheer willpower. He nods at Julia. "Yeah," he says, voice hoarse. "Just, ah...a second." He carefully sets Itzhak's hand down, climbs to his feet, and goes outside. They can hear a bit of coughing, then a minute or two later he comes back in. "Sorry," he says, sounding dazed. "Ah, not a problem at all. Just glad I was close enough." He clears his throat, raises an eyebrow at Itzhak. "You have a sink in here, right?"

"I think that goddamn raccoon is a spirit guide." Itzhak weakly waves August towards the tiny and Spartan bathroom. "Head's over there." He smiles drowsy and lopsided at Julia. "You got yaself a deal. So, uh, that's the other side for you. Dangerous, weird, actually pretty awesome." Because of course he thinks getting sliced open by a gigantic feathered snake is awesome. "Ya did good, kid," he adds, teasing wearily.

"If I did so good, maybe you shouldn't call me 'kid', old man." Julia retorts with a smirk. To August, "I have no idea. There's a bathroom, I guess? Somewhere?" she looks around, then at herself. "Oh. Okay. Either of you have some spare clothes I can borrow? I show up at my house covered in blood and my mother might have another stroke." That is not a joke.

August moves to the bathroom, spends a few seconds in there with the water running. He comes out looking a little better than when he first arrived, lets out a breath and runs a hand over his face. He eyes Julia's clothes, then Julia. "I do but, they'll be tents on you." And boy, will they ever.

Then he gives Itzhak a Look. "Okay, so...you went over. What exactly tried to make a souvenir out of your leg?" Julia doesn't get a Look, just a glance of 'I might need you to fill in when he conveniently doesn't tell me everything'.

"Hang on." Itzhak lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the armchair. He still looks like he lost a lot of blood, most of which is soaked into the chair and Julia's clothes. Then--all the blood slips out of the fabric of both, and off August for good measure. Entirely. Without leaving anything behind. The blood forms a little sphere, surprisingly small when it's all gathered up like that. Itzhak doesn't seem to know what to do with it from there, and just stares at it. "Told ya. Constrictor." There he goes, conveniently not telling August everything. "A real fuckin' big one. Makes your worm buddies look like planarians."

"It was a snake-chicken thing." Julia insists. "It had eggs. Well, it didn't have them, the little dude's fox feather monster had them, but I think the snake chicken thought we took its eggs."

August makes a face at the trick with the blood, though he can't say he doesn't mind needing to get it out of his jeans. He narrows his eyes at Itzhak, shaking his head, takes to studying Julia instead. At least she is willing to give some details. "Huh. So like, a quetzalcoatl sort of...thing." He grunts about the apparent size differential. "I guess it'd have to be, making an injury like that."

He moves to a chair, sits on it heavily. Itzhak's not going into shock and dying, August can now stand down from losing his mind and lunch over it. "'Little dude'?" he echoes.

Itzhak giggles, sounding more than a little giddy. "Snake chicken thing. I love it. Size of a subway train. That kinda rhymes. Definitely scans." Then he makes a face. "Kor, that little prick. From when I went over the first time. You know. Unicorn. Kor's not a unicorn. He's some kinda jacked up gnome. I guess he got a bunch of pets? He told us they're farmers now." He sags in the now-clean armchair and closes his eyes.

"Apparently the unicorns are also people?" Julia chimes in, perhaps not helping. "But it's more or less what he said. Oh, and the snake chicken's name is JJ."

"I think she," August glances at Itzhak, frowns as he tries to remember what Itzhak shared with him in the link, "could turn into one." He sounds uncerstain as he says this. "JJ," he murmurs to himself, shrugs. A sidelong look at Itzhak, then he asks Julia, "What does he mean about farmers?"

"She can't turn into people, she's already people," Itzhak announces, irritably, like August should know that. "And she's not my girlfriend." Eyes still closed. He might be half asleep.

There's a pause. "I think the unicorns are farmers now." It's ironic that even though the mushrooms weren't magic, Julia and Itzhak sure sound like they're trippin'. She gives Itzhak a nudge with her hip, and then queries August. "He's okay, right? Is there a place for him to crash here, or do we need to get him to his place?"

August sighs fondly at Itzhak, shakes his head. "Right." He squints at Julia, turns that over in his mind. 'The unicorns are farmers' sounds like some sort of code to him, but he's not telling them that. They've just evaded death at the hands of a monster snake chicken, or, something.

"We should get him back to his place. He's gonna need to rest up. You have a car with you? If not I can drive the two of you." He pulls out his phone, starts swiping a text to his coworkers about when he'll be back to help close up the shop.