heavyhitter | IC CONTACT (futuro & prisma)

[He's plenty touchy. Just not necessarily in the fun way. Jason's track record for interpersonal relationships is incredibly short and also incredibly shitty, and he doesn't at all make it easier on himself. But given he's finding himself tracking her down for company as often as information, Ramir's probably asserting herself as some kind of bona fide friend at this juncture. (Something like that. He's bad at handing out trust, but she asks for little and forgives quickly and—apparently—actually misses him when he's gone. It could feel more like a farce, because he has not been entirely honest with her. He hasn't put a whole lot of effort into being strictly dishonest, either.) It's definitely more clinging than he would have put up with a few months ago. Sort of like slowly socializing a pissy stray cat.

So he lets her talk, instead of brushing her off when she settles in. Quiet and focused and serious again while she gives him the rundown, taking it in and filing it away where it best fits with the big picture. At some point—right around the part where she starts talking about gross mass drownings—he stops fidgeting with his food to close his fingers over it instead. Hellboy gave her lie of omission some nice big holes when he put the crew kidnappings on record, but he won't call her on it just yet. His next question is very deliberate, and a little bit sharp.]

Where are they now?

[The cultists.]

[ This, she's starting to notice, doesn't seem like casually interested curiosity. The stiffness she can feel in his back, when his hands go still; anyone would be freaked out to hear about the eyeball pool (she hopes), but that's not exactly freaked out, either.

So, apparently he cares, at least in some capacity. You learn something about someone every day. She drops her arm entirely to start in on peeling her fruit, but stays close enough that her shoulder brushes his. ]

Some of them are dead. [ Which she's not super happy about, but whatever, she wasn't the one killing. Plus, they did murder a bunch of people, it's pretty justified. ] The rest of them ran off. Some of them are probably back out in the jungle, but I'd bet a lot of them went home to pretend like they weren't fucking murdering their neighbors a second ago.

[Murdering nut jobs come in all shapes and sizes, no matter where you go in the multiverse. Only makes it worse when they go for someone he actually likes. It's hard for him to take a very casual interest when it comes to these sorts of things. It's a hobby.

Unlike her, he doesn't seem at all dissatisfied to hear that some of them are dead.]

Your friendly neighborhood doomsday cult.

[Not much humor in it. He's got a bit of a dog-with-a-bone look to him, skipping through the possibilities as well as he can without having been there himself to dig through the evidence. Not his first rodeo, but the whole alien deer island thing does do a number on the assumptions he can make.]

Getting IDs on the ones you took out might help finger the others. No one gets crazy enough to drown someone in their own eyeballs and goes off grid for good.

[That's not a one time offender kind of crazy.]

[ She snorts, and turns more attention down to the fruit. Peeling it is a good way to occupy her hands as she goes over the unpleasant events of that night. ]

I dunno what happened to the bodies. I don't even know if anyone stuck by the camp to scare off anyone that tried to regroup there. [ When she glances over to stick a slice of fruit in her mouth and talk around it, the hardness of her eyes doesn't quite match the mundane gesture. ] You wanna go see? I remember where it was.

[ And she'd love a round two, one where she's way better prepared. ]

[The bright smell of citrus from her side is enough to prompt him to start peeling his own. After a week of boiling seawater for sips and living off deep-sea fish, he could probably use the variety, if not the vitamin c.]

If you don't have any other plans for the day. [If she's up to looking at it in the eye again. She seems it.] I wouldn't say no.

[Hate to interrupt a previous engagement or something. He'll track it down on his own, if it comes to it. Sooner will be better than later, of course, but unfortunately there's no huge rush. Trail can't get much colder, the crazies in question have had plenty of time to trash the evidence already if they were going to. It's not overly surprising that the proverbial scene of the crime has likely gone without a stakeout or a combing over, and he rather doubts it'll get prioriry, now that everyone's arguing over the pros and cons of deicide and zombie cats. Pretty inconvenient, but not much to be done about that.]

Couldn't hurt to see what's left. I'd wait 'til dark for the cover, but a repeat of last time wouldn't be all that productive.

[Turns out jungles get real dark without light pollution, and he's short a handy flashlight or anything resembling night vision. The nice thing about sneaking around urban areas, enough dark to use to your advantage, but lots of ambient light for seeing. It's always the little things that make you homesick.]

Cover of dark out there just means you're tripping over every root around and they're listening to it. [ Not that she knows... from experience... or anything.

She scowls and hops to her feet, ready to go just thinking about it. Man, she hopes they do run into stragglers... ]

We could go now. The jungle's noisy during the day, you just gotta keep low out of sight. [ come on say yes!! ...Except a sliver of consideration for other people slips in, and she glances over with at least a touch of hesitation. ] I mean — soon, anyway. Maybe you wanna finish eating first, have a bath or something.

[ Seeing as he did just escape being marooned on an island, and all. Maybe he's not immediately ready for action. ]

[Don't worry, Ramir, engaging in career vigilantism means becoming an expert in putting crimefighting before petty things like personal comfort and wellbeing. He watches her bounce up with a cocked brow, then pockets his lunch in his jacket and tosses his peel over the side of the ship so he can follow. Eager, huh. He can't much blame her, considering. He snags the strap of the Dakal shotgun on his way up so he can sling it over a shoulder.]

Go on, Nancy Drew, trail's getting colder.

[Unless you think he's bad enough that they could literally sniff him out, out there.]

[ She looks a little delighted by the positive answer. It's the best when people don't stop to do anything like rest before starting off on the next adventure. ]

Yeah, sure. One day I'm gonna start pulling out my pop culture references, and you're not gonna have any idea what I'm talking about. [ So rude, Jason. ] Anyway, not too far. Like a thirty minute walk, if you're up to that.

[ Personally she's mostly up to it. The wraps around her feet at this point look like an anime-inspired stylistic choice rather than actual bloodied bandages, so that's progress. She starts forward, headed back for actual land. ]

[Don't stifle him, that's rude, too.]

These are classics, you know. I like to think of it as an opportunity for cultural exchange.

[Did Jane Austen and Nancy Drew not survive into the space future, or did they never exist in that universe in the first place, it is a mystery. Either way, this is a learning opportunity, Ramir. Don't be xenophobic.

The Dakal ship is probably technologically advanced enough to have some nice easy way to duck back off onto the dock, so it doesn't take long. Once they're on the way, he fishes his fruit back out to eat it. Thirty minutes is plenty of time.]

Sure, nice day for a hike. [After days of waiting for that storm to clear. He gives her feet a glance.] You gonna be okay on those?

[ She starts them toward the jungle as soon as they hit sand, walking quick as she ever has. She will be okay with her feet, because she's sick to death of being otherwise.

Still, though, it's a good opportunity to toss over a bright, hopeful smile. ]

Why, is that an offer to carry me?

[ Pride be damned, she'll never turn that up. ]

[Never know when you'll need to make a quick getaway. He starts keeping track of their path, now that they're out of the shadow of the ship and heading into the jungle.]

Didn't think this was that kind of trip.

[That's probably not going to do their snooping many favors, Ramir. Points for trying though, I guess. He may, perhaps, be sensing a bit of a pattern.]

I'll pass, I think. Still pretty sore from playing castaway.

[Definitely took a knock or two in the storm. He's fine, overall, but he probably shouldn't be pressing his luck with piggybacks for a few days if he can afford it.]

Every trip can be that kind of trip if you set it up right.

[ One more suggestive smile goes with that, then she figures she can let it rest. This is business, after all. Revenge is always a matter worth doing right. She keeps her eye on the sea to their left, seen as glimpses of blue through the trees. She just needs a few of the right landmarks, and she can turn inland from there. ]

So what'd I miss, anyway? I saw the jewel-TV stuff, but aside from all that. Anything good?

[All work and no play. He hums under his breath.]

Sounds like you've seen most of the fireworks already, then.

[Most of the excitement had come from the recording Kolitra had broadcast to the crew, the news Rin had brought back from the lone Dakal "survivor." He'd sat out the magical internet shouting, but he'd kept an eye on it. It was pretty hard to miss.]

Wasn't a lot more to miss, unless you like scavenger hunts and ship repairs. [Water had been a bigger problem than food, but it had still been a pretty lean week until they'd dug up a way out.] This side of the pond must have missed out on the industrial revolution, though. It was one big soggy steel ghost town over there.

[Heavy on the ghost, but a lot more like a modernized city. Just an empty one.]

Oh, yeah, seriously? [ That's worth an impressed glance over. ] Shit, I wish I'd been with you guys! I really miss technology. Even shitty old technology would be fine, I don't think they even have wheels yet over here.

[ That might be an exaggeration, she's almost sure she saw a wheelbarrow the other day. But they're about 8,000 years away from a cellphone, so her complaint feels legitimate. ]

Too bad it was all junked.

[Almost all of it, anyway. The shotgun seems to be in working order, (just in time for the rumors of zombie cats,) the ship had come back online eventually. But most of what they'd found was too water damaged or too old and rusted to be of use. Shame, really, because he's with her. Jason's always been a city boy at heart.]

Guess there's less pressure to go inventing the wheel when you've got enough superpowers to fall back on.

[See how that worked out for either side.]

IC CONTACT (futuro & prisma)

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