* INFINITY ON HIGH

bandit pulls their phone out, already sending a text. better safe than sorry, and odds are, mama takeda had told bandit about the body and already been questioning bandit about WHO the body was. "she was askin' me about that this morning."

I'LL SAY -- WHATEVER DOESN'T MAKE ME STRONGER KILLS ME

(how did we survive?)

quickly popping in at 8am bc im a big raging dummie (/silly, very lighthearted) - so! i work a 3 day weekend this weekend

"Get back inside." His tone is more exhausted than annoyed and he's wearing the last remnants of a fading glamour, having left town where everyone is familiar with the unusual appearance of their lighthouse keeper (he's always been passably human at a quick glance). "And get back on two legs. I need those locked up before the storm rolls in; there's likely going to be flooding and I don't want a mess to pick up after."

Obi-Wan has never actually lived with another shifter before so it's only now he's learning how frustrating it can be. For one, not being able to differentiate a racoon digging through his bins and his current ward. Though, at the very least, he doesn't need to convince a small animal he's actually a human like Qui-Gon had him.

"Nor do I want you to drown in old rubbish." Obi-Wan truly knows nothing about Bandit's family; he has no idea who he'd contact and more importantly, if someone out there might blame him for killing their child. It's all something he'd rather not worry over. Rather, he just wants to get his house guest is safely tucked away, ensure the light house's rangelight is functioning appropriately, then lay down in the field as a twelve-foot seal and let the rain pelt him to sleep. Which reminds him, he really ought to ask Bandit—and surely that can't be their real name—if they have complete control over their shifts or if he should expect a feral tanuki during the full moon (assuming werewolf rules apply, even though they seldom do).

though, at least it was bandit this time.

ear flicks, and logic states bandit should not just stand here like this, but their coat is far more comfortable than the jacket they've been running around in in this town. and bandit never thinks to ask for something warmer. bandit scratches at their fluffy cheek, head cocked to the side. they grumble and growl in response.

I'LL SAY -- WHATEVER DOESN'T MAKE ME STRONGER KILLS ME

(how did we survive?)