aggravate

“A weird ass name is what kinda name that is,” Wes says with a laugh. “But maybe their names the weirdest part about them.” He smiles at the person standing in his way and does his best to put on his friendliest expression. He’s not so good with those. 

Kel laughs- the first real one in a while, truly, but they do not voice that to this stranger. “We can only hope that is the case. Wouldn’t want to be stuck rooming with some... weirdo.” They flounder a bit on the last word, their smile a little silly in it’s intensity. But in their defense, it’s a funny topic. “So. Never heard of ‘em?”

It takes Dante a moment to look over and then up at the other’s wings, startling as he always does. “Are you an angel?” he asks, immediately on the defensive of this; he hasn’t often dealt with angels, being as he’s only a lowly hellhound, but he would think he would notice one in his vicinity. Maybe this form really does weaken him. 

“An angel?” They don’t want to ask the next question in their head. A debate on whether or not angels are real, since they’ve had no affiliation with anything of the sort. But they don’t know what the other is, do not know what kind of answer they would receive. Do not know if the other is asking because he knows they exist or because he doesn’t. “No, of course not. Though that would make an interesting circus act, I suppose. Did you... not notice the wings before?”

Porter really looks at them when they speak this time and it’s obvious that they are having a bad time as well. And they weren’t complaining about it like he was. He sighs and nods his head, “I’m sure you’re right. It’s probably best to just leave things be and keep my head down at this point. They have a way of knowing things anyway. It’s nice to meet you Kel.” 

A sigh, a sign of defeat or annoyance perhaps, but he has not walked away from them just yet. That is good- if they make friends, they could maybe change things someday. But not yet. Not yet. They are nowhere near ready for something like that. “Give them some time to make the return. It’s only the first day, after all.” Pretend to give them the benefit of the doubt. Read between the lines. “Nice to meet you as well. Have you eaten?”

“Well that was easier than I expected it to be,” Wes says with a grin. “I thought I’d have to march all over this stupid place looking for you.” His grin only gets wider as he takes his roommate in. “No need to be sorry, you’ve done me a huge favor just by being in the right place at the right time.” 

Nobody really grins like that around here, he wants to say but doesn’t. His hands are shaking just a bit, not enough to be visible but he shoves them in his pockets anyway .The other is to be his roommate, and he is so nervous. “Yeah, um. Yeah.” He sounds like an idiot at best, annoying at worst. Annoying at worst.  “I’ve not been here long so. No opportunity to ruin the room.”

“People like us?” Clover reached up and scratches her antlers “There’s nothing very special about me.” Clover placed her hand to her lip in contemplation. 

People of the forest. People who don’t belong in a building like this. People who are going to rot away here. But he doesn’t say a word of that, refusing to scare her away. “People who aren’t exactly human.” Human, something that he hasn’t passed for in ages. When the forest has enough hold on you to tint your skin, you can hardly pretend to be anything else. “Who don’t blend in.”

“Yea fresh off the boat today. I think they just like to mess with us at this point,” Porter says with a sigh. “If they cared about people they wouldn’t take things that are vital to their survival. I’m this close to finding someone in charge and roughing them up.” He pauses in his ranting and sighs again. “I’m sorry. I’m just a tad angry. The names Porter,” he says. “What’s yours?”

Kel rolls their shoulders, a motion that moves their wings as well. “When do they not like to mess with us?” Slowly, they curl their wings around themselves just a bit. Enough to expose the holes where plucked feathers should have gone, the skin beneath still delicate pink mottled with angry red. “I’d offer my assistance, but I’m not sure what exactly we’d get out of that. They’ll return your skin soon enough I’m sure.” And they don’t really believe the words, not truly. But they say them all the same. “Kelan. Call me Kel, if you’d like.”

Wes is startled out of his thoughts by the person asking about his room mate assignment, “Uhhh yea, somewhere.” He digs around in his pockets looking for the piece of paper that he’d shoved there just minutes before. He pulls it out and uncrumples it the best he can.  Luckily, the writing is still legible. “It says here that my roommate is someone named Josiah. Any clue who that might be?”

Joss is straight up shocked to hear his name come out of the other’s mouth, but tries not to let it show. Fails miserably most likely, since he has to clamp his own mouth shut before he can form a proper reply. “Oh. Uh. That. That’s me. That’s me. I’m Josiah.” He’s stumbling over his words, making a fool of myself. “Uh. Sorry.”

“Yea that’s how they got me here. Those fuckers at my last placement stole my skin so I’d come willingly,” he says with an exasperated sigh. “I wasn’t going to come. I’m tired of moving around.” 

Kel winces, a touch of sympathy barely brushing their world weary heart. Though they have been through this many times before, it’s been a while since they’ve tried to fight back. “And you’re fresh off the boat today?” they ask, going around the topic at hand. “We must be on the same shipment, then. Wonder what they get out of pulling from all these different centers?”

Clover turned around to locate the unknown voice. “I… I guess I figured as much,” she shuttered and nervously took a step back. “Then what is this place?” 

He doesn’t mean to make her uncomfortable; it makes him distinctly upset to see that he has done so anyway, if that step back is any indication. Of course, he would probably be uncomfortable as well. Is, in fact, but he lives and breathes discomfort. “Some kind of institution, a place for humans to hold people like us. Keep us safe, apparently.” Not that he believes a word of that.

“I don’t know why they think any of this is a good idea,” Wes says as he shuffles along the path in front of him. “I don’t do well around others I really don’t want to room with anyone but Porter. Guess I’ll have to get over that fast…”

Joss is completely uncomfortable with the idea of random people talking in his general vicinity, but he’ll have to get used to it if he’s going to have any friends. Running away is not going to help him, so he’ll fortify. Buck up. Whatever. “Uh... sorry?” Not off to the best start, but there’s time to recover. “Do you... have your room assignment yet?”

Porter’s still not quite sure what’s going on. He doesn’t know much. But he does know that he’s pissed. “When I find the fucker who took my skin there’s going to be some problems.”

Kel tilts their head to the side, assessing the strange person in front of her. Whatever their story might be, Kelan gets the vibe that it’s going to be something interesting. “Your skin? Is that how they got you here?”

“Why would I associate with humans?” Dante blurts out before he can think, struggling to rein himself back in. “I only mean - who you belong to? Would I be Dante Hades? Dante Mephistopheles? They who own me also own many names,” he babbles. Does anyone own me, now that I’m gone? he doesn’t say, because whomever this is does not need to know. He does not need to know. 

When Kel rolls their shoulders, it ruffles their wings as well. They’ve gotten enough long looks over the months to last a lifetime, but still cannot be bothered to put them away. At least here where they are known, there can be freedom in this one thing. If not in anything else. “Well there are those of us who grew up in human societies, or who pass for human, like you do,” they reply with a shrug. “Whatever you want, I guess.” Hades? Mephistopheles? Who is this guy?

Jericho marginally regrets her tone, but doesn’t take the time to feel bad for it; lingering is so… human. She is, however, sorry to have been rude to another creature of the forest, given how she misses the sound of the trees. “You see, my path is rather important - it’s laid out to me by someone who is not me, and must be followed by me nonetheless. You understand, yes?” 

Her words are confusing, laid plainly and yet not laid plainly at all. She speaks as if there is something to be understood, something to be understood easily, but his mind cannot wrap around whatever it is meant to. Which might be because what she is saying does not make sense. But it might also be because she has a distracting quality about her. Some sort of call of the forest beneath her skin. “...No?”

Fidgeting with her antlers, Clover looks visibly confused and frightened. “What is this place supposed to be? It seems like the most messed up summer camp.” 

Joss purses his lips, fidgets with his fingers. How to reply, how to reply? He’s only been here for a couple weeks but that is enough to learn the lay of the land. Does he take this other- this, deer person, this fawna, someone who his people are meant to get along with- under his wing (figurative of course, though he’s seen at least one avian somewhere around) and open himself up for ridicule. Surely. “Well that would be because it’s not a summer camp at all.”

Dante was mildly startled by the sound of another’s voice, but he hid it as well as he ever did - which is to say, not very well at all. “I do not know what kind of name that is. Why are there two? Why would one need two names?” he asked, head tilted. 

Kel’s face softens just a tad, mostly beyond their own desire to do so. They can’t help it though- natural want to coddle and protect those that don’t know what the h e l l is going on, or some nonsense like that. Within moments though they harden their face into an upturned lip, an expression of distaste. “Right. Two names are for ones with more human associations. First name is your own name. Last name marks who you belong to. Your family.”

Jericho looked down at the floor for longer than was strictly necessary before looking at the being obstructing the path she was meant to walk. “Excuse you. I do believe you’re in my way. It’d be wonderful if you could not do that.” 

Joss turns, taking entirely too long to realize that the measured tone is directed at him. Takes even longer to realize what was said, and then an appropriate reply. Still, he stammers over it. “Uh, y-yeah, yeah. Of course.” He ducks out of the way, sheepish in each movement. “Sorry! But uh, couldn’t you have gone around me?”