apocalypsehowcomm | LOG - July Catch-all [Closed for Now]

Mercy's not the most intelligent woman to roam the lands, but she's an observant one. She takes note of the way he stiffens. That's a button, then. It wouldn't be polite to poke with her words, but she's curious certainly. She'll lay off for just a second, though, to address something else that sounds strange.

"Two separate covens? Do they not go together where you're from?" She peers over his head into the dimness of the shed before pulling out a flashlight from her pocket and shining that into the place. There's... junk in the shed. Seeming junk. It's been set in evenly-spaced positions along the back shelves, though, and Mercy has a sense of danger, even without any real supernatural senses at her disposal.

Focusing on how magic works is a much easier topic for Hunter, and he's at least happy to oblige her questions about it. "No. You can make potions that don't heal, and healing magic doesn't necessarily require potions. While there is some overlap in terms of healing potions, the two are versatile beyond just that."

When she lights up the interior of the shed with her flashlight he'll lean in, adjusting his gloves, looking over the various objects. "It's how the Titan structured our magic," he adds, as if that explains everything. "I'm going to try handling one of these things. Get ready."

And he reaches for what looks like an empty picture frame.

Mercy clacks her grabber at him. "Reckon I got this here thing for a reason. You wanna try with it first, 'fore you go grabbing at things that might be cursed?" Just as a suggestion, but she does raise a brow at him.

"Reckon a clever fella who runs his own coven'd think twice about that sorta thing."

Hunter pauses and sighs, and instead of going for the frame he reaches out to take the grabber. She's totally right, he should have an added layer of protection here, but he can still be salty about it. "I'm sure my gloves will be enough," he says. "But I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Now, there's some sage wisdom! They chose the right man for the job." And so the grabber is acquired. And... seems to be fine, if not the most dextrous thing around. "So, if you're the leader of the coven, what's that make this little fella? Co-leader?" She smiles at Flapjack before turning her attention to what Hunter is grabbing for.

While Mercy's being chatty and jovial, it's better to practice what she preaches, and she doesn't want to be caught unawares if some item... comes to life and starts attacking? She's not really sure what to expect here.

Mercy's response gets a little eyeroll out of him as he tests out the grabber. It's awkward and weird, but he supposes it's better than nothing.

He reaches for the frame, faltering at her question. The answer to it is complicated, and even though he isn't in the Boiling Isles he still feels nervous talking about the bird. "Flapjack isn't... part of the coven," he explains, "He's something called a palisman, a totem or - familiar, carved from the wood of a palistrom tree."

"Flapjack's just about the cutest name I ever heard. Is he really wood, though? He don't look nothing like it. Prettiest carving I've seen. Did you make him?" If the bird is with Hunter, that would make sense.

As for the frame, when he does manage to wrangle it, it might start to amp up his paranoia, whatever that might mean for him. Perhaps he's being... framed for something. Or set up for it.

"Yes, sort of, and no," Hunter replies, looking down at the frame with knitted brows. The paranoia bubbles up in the back of his mind, and his prolonged silence has Flapjack peeping in concern.

"He... was made by someone else," he adds slowly, before glancing over at Mercy. "Why are you asking?"

"Can't a girl be curious?" she waggles her brows at him playfully. "Wondering if I could get someone like him for myself is all. I can do a little carving. You got any brothers and sister in the woods, Mr. Flapjack?" she asks the bird, leaning in and looming a bit over the boy.

Normally her sass would make him roll his eyes, but as he continues to hold the frame that pulsing paranoia in the back of his mind grows and grows. She isn't just curious, she can't be. There has to be something more to it.

Hunter stiffens, taking a small step backwards. At the same time, he raises his free hand to hold in front of Flapjack protectively. "I'm not answering any more of your questions!" Because why would she even be asking them? Unless -

A thought comes to him, and his eyes widen. "If this is some trick to steal him it isn't going to work!"

Teasing and flustering him is one thing. Actually upsetting him is very much another. Mercy backs up, herself holding one hand up in a placating gesture. "Naw, I wouldn't do that. He's your friend, ain't he? Right smart little fella, too. Don't recon I could steal him, even if I wanted to.

"You'd fly right on back to Hunter soon as you could, right, Flapjack?"

Unfortunately for Mercy, that paranoia has gone and burrowed nice and deep in his brain, so her apology doesn't reach him. He keeps on scowling, even as Flapjack cheeps an agreement with her.

"Why should I believe you?? That's exactly what someone who wants to steal him would say! That you'd just try to get my guard down, and then when I'm not paying attention - " He doesn't finish that thought, a shudder running through his body. "I kept him safe back home, and I'm going to do it here, too."

Mercy's gaze tracks to the frame Hunter is holding. Is this doing that? It certainly seems like his mood has taken a turn for the worse since he picked it up. "Hunter, you wanna maybe give me that grabber and frame? You'll do a better job protecting Flapjack, I reckon, if your hands ain't full up."

"No!" That response is coming fast and frantic, as Hunger yanks the grabber and picture frame close to himself protectively. He's practically clutching the damn thing like it's a lifeline, and he isn't sure why. He just knows he can't let go of the frame. "How do I know you won't do something - something questionable with it?!"

She looks at Flapjack and desperately wishes she could communicate silently with the little creature. Mercy doesn't want to frighten the palisman with what she's about to try next. "Questionable like... calling on the tickle monster?"

Admittedly, Hunter looks like he might be a little old for this game, but Mercy wants to startle him into dropping the things in his hand, and her launching herself at him to try to tickle his sides, his neck, his ears, anything she can really reach. If nothing else, it might make him attack her, which will also make holding onto the frame harder.

Well, Hunter at least doesn't look offended. He does look thoroughly confused at what she says though, completely thrown off by her tactics. He's used to dealing with dangerous monsters or supposedly dangerous wild witches, not... tickle monsters. Is this even in his vocabulary? There is a high chance it isn't, given how thrown off he is.

He doesn't move out of the way in time, though Flapjack takes off to avoid the mayhem. "H - hey - what are you -" is all he manages to get out, flailing a little before starting to reflexively laugh. Lucky her, she's ticklish, and after a few moments winds up dropping the grabber and frame.

Mercy kicks the frame as soon as it's dropped, knocking it outside and well away from Hunter. Though, she does keep up the tickling just a little longer before relenting and taking a few steps back. "There! You got a real cute laugh, Hunter, and I reckon we found one of them cursed items, sure enough."

Now the question is how do they get rid of it if they can't pick it up without being affected. Fire? Mercy thinks fire's probably going to have to be the main option here. It's a wooden frame, so it should burn, in theory.

As soon as Mercy stops Hunter flails again, this time stumbling back and away from her as he tries to get himself back under control. His laughing stops pretty quickly, replaced with a horribly embarrassed glare. Hell, even the tips of his ears have turned red, and he looks like he wants to snap at her but he can't think of anything that won't make him look more ridiculous.

"It looks like it," he grumbles, clenching his hands into fists. "I could break it with magic, if we were allowed to use it."

She glances sideways at him, mulling over a response to that. How open to be about her lax approach to this? Hmm... well, it's not like she has magic, so it's just academic. "I ain't no snitch, Hunter. You got the power to do it, I'm looking the other way to make sure no one else is taking an eyeful. Might be safer than me stomping it to pieces, but I'll do that if you ain't comfortable."

Oh, well, that's certainly something. Hunter squints a little at her, trying to judge whether she's being sincere or trying to trick him into breaking the rules so she can tell the ADI officials. He isn't sure why she would do that, aside from a desire to follow the rules. He could understand that, but she... doesn't seem like the type.

It's a huge chance, but he nods. Flapjack takes that as a sign to shift to his staff form, and he grabs it. "Okay, then step back."

The bird turning into a staff is absolutely magical, and she wants to ask about it, but... first things first.

Mercy does as she's told and moves so that her body is blocking the door. She puts her hands on her hips to make herself even more of a wall to the outside world. "Just a second," she tells him, taking a quick look around before turning back to Hunter. "Okay. Whatever you and Flapjack're gonna do, do it quick."

This seems to be going alright so far. Hunter waits until she's gotten into position, then nods slightly, adjusting his grip on his staff.

"Alright, that's no problem." He aims with the Flapjack end of the staff, and a gold burst of energy like lightning slams into the frame. It explodes into tiny shards, and Hunter grins successfully.

"Woah!" There's wonder, rather than fear in Mercy's voice. That had been, well, magical. She's half-blind now and rapidly blinking to clear her vision. "Hunter, that was... well, I ain't never seen nothing like it. You got that thing good!"

He'll receive a hardy clap on his back for his trouble.

The clap on his back isn't something Hunter is used to, so his reflexive response is to instinctively flinch. But it's part of a compliment, so after a few moments of processing he relaxes.

And takes a step away from her, just in case. "It's... nothing. I shouldn't even be doing it, so we should get out of here. Say we took care of one of the cursed objects."

"Or just say we didn't see any," Mercy suggests as she moves out of the shed and lets him come along before shutting and locking it. "I don't think either of us wanna answer how we took care of things. Someone else can find it, think it went haywire." Let people assume. That's a much more effective strategy for Mercy than trying to spin the truth directly for too long.

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cardinalrule - 2022-09-26 23:55 (UTC) - Expand