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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
ooc|| Hailfax. For Lysander (: Pardon the size!
He sat on the harbor, thinking about fishing. His arm was still bound (now to his chest in an awkward sling) and he had left his bag at home, where it sat on his unkempt bed stuffed with books. This was Giggle's first time in the city, or anything like a city- it was large and unfamiliar. Every section breathed with history; humans had built this, lived this, and were gone now but you could almost sense them, anyway. There were myriad materials to be found, old, broken things. An engineering-minded might've gone crazy, but to the hybrid, it was mostly junk. He had recovered an interesting device with headphones and a crumbling instructions manual, almost too destroyed to read. From what he could glean, the Inferni member saw that it played music, somehow. It was circular and scratched up, with flecks of shiny silver paint. It was now clutched in his left hand. Maybe if he could make it work, he could find a way to make the music play.
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Lysander had with him a bag of items, loot he had pulled from Halifax to fill his cabin in Phoenix Valley with. The bottles of alcohol, harder to find than one would think, clinked together as he walked. Hinges, beads, string, coins and anything that had taken his fancy rattled at the bottom of the sack. The noises of the junk he was hauling home put the mixed dog in a good mood, and Lysander was pleased with his day’s findings. The steel gray male with the white mask and underbelly was excited to get home and put into action his plan for concealing his belongings– which no one would want to steal anyway but Lysander liked to pretend it was all more valuable than it really was.
It was as he was passing the harbor he became aware of the other’s presence. The scent was not wolf, but it was not dog either and this truly intrigued the male. Letting his tail wag slowly behind him, which looked comical when he was shifted and on two legs (as he was now), he slowly came up from behind the fellow, a shit eating grin plastered on the male’s face. “Why! Hello there mate! What might ya be doin’ just now?” His eyes twinkled at the strange canine, which he guessed to be a coyote from all the stories he had heard. They had not had coyotes in his old clan, and he had not met any on his way here, but he knew of the coyote clan that existed in this parts. That would explain this creature’s existance.
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
He was hesitant, not wanting to ruin the device but wanting to see how it worked. Giggle had discovered a little push-switch that made the top spring open. There was an indent where some sort of disc was supposed to go, he supposed. He closed it, and flipped it over. Two little screws covered in rust seemed to be holding down part of the black plastic-material. The wind didn't favor him, and he didn't even notice the other's presence until they spoke. Startled the coyote jumped up, shoving the device in to the crook of his arm where his sling was. The man before him was not a wolf, thankfully. But it smelled like a pack and it was a canine of some sort. Blinking indigo eyes, he tried to place the creature. He had read of dogs before and huskies even. Perhaps this was one of them? Half suspicious, half curious, he responded.
'I found something back in the city,' he spoke quickly, trying to project a friendly- if distant- air. He noted all the junk behind the dog (if it was a dog) with interest. 'And you, did you find anything good?' With his head he indicated the bag. Giggle didn't think to introduce himself yet, but instead left that obligation on the other.
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“Oh well, nothing too exciting...” he mumbled nonchalantly as he reached behind him, feeling in the sack and pulling forth one of the bottles. Absently mindedly he played with it, rolling it between his two hands, tossing it from one hand to the other, all the while looking the male up and down, his head titled and his lips pursed as he took the other in. “Looks like ya’ve been in a spot of trouble recently, huh?” Steel eyes focused on the sling, the arm awkwardly wrapped in it. Clicking his tongue he nodded, as if confirming something he had known all along. “Yup, good thing I came along. I’m a medic, ya know?”
Moving in closer, Ly allowed himself to peer at the male’s arm, clicking his tongue all the while. “Yup, yup, that looks bad... hmm” He stared down at the bottle in his hands, then back to the male. “A fellow in your condition shouldn’t be tramping about Halifax, no sir. Does it hurt much?” Click, click, click. He stared at the male’s arm, the machine he had found, then the strangely colored eyes of the coyote. “Well anyway, my name is Samer, who are you?”
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
He shrugged, watching the man toss the bottle back and forth. The mention of his arm instantly made him uncomfortable; the coyote shrugged again, looking away. 'I guess,' he muttered. The arm was still a touchy subject concerning the loss of his dignity, but how could he expect everyone to ignore it? The dog mentioned he was a medic then. That could be helpful. 'Really? I tried to set it myself, but all I had to tell me how was a book..' Gig looked back to the dog, squirming slightly under the inspecting gaze. 'I'm afraid it might need to be rebroken,' he admitted.
The dog's way of speaking was starting to irritate him, but he shoved it aside. Especially if he could get the other to help him set the arm properly. Pissing him off would probably not be the way to do it. 'Not especially,' the coyote replied honestly. The arm was sore, sure, and on occasion jolts of pain would erupt down from the shoulder to his palm, but for the most part it didn't bother him. He tilted his head to the introduction. Samer, then. 'Pleasure. My name is Giggle.' Indigo eyes shifted away from the blue of the dog's. Giggle did not like the intimacy of eye contact.
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“Hmm, rebroken? Let me see.” Without waiting for a response Lysander took one hand and felt with clumsy fingers the healing arm of the coyote. All the while his face appeared concerned, his eyes brows knit together as if he were concentrating. Clearing his throat, he withdrew his hand and took up tossing the bottle back and forth, watching the liquid squish from one side to the other for a few moments. Looking back at the male, he nodded, as if to confirm the coyote’s fears. “Aye, yup. Certainly does have to be rebroken, ya set it all wrong.”
Squish, squish, squish. The gray male with his matching eyes began to roll the bottle back and forth between his palms. “Well Giggle... Giggle huh? What a nice name ya got. Where’d ya get such a nice name...” Ly let his voice trail off, tilting his head to once side as he considered the male’s name, smiling just the tiniest bit and then seeming to find his train of through once again. “Oh right! Well Giggle, I can reset the arm for ya. I gotta warn ya though, it will hurt.” He nodded sagely, his steely eyes concerned, curious as if to Giggle would take him up on his offer.
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
Muscles tensed, shoulders pulled forward into a defensive posture as the sanguine animal grasped his broken arm, roughly examining it. The pressure sent pain through his arm. Giggle clenched his teeth and drew his arm back to his chest, ears settling back as the dog spoke. Rebroken... how stupid he had been, to hide away and hope it would heal. Inferni surely had a healer; he should have sought them out first. Instead he had hid and now it was too late. He looked at his arm, his misgivings evident in his indigo eyes.
Samer commented on his name but the coyote didn't respond, instead allowing a light shrug. He was too busy thinking of his injury to worry about opinions on his namesake. However, what the dog said next made him snap his head up. He could reset the arm? Trepidation tugged at him. How could he trust this stranger with his weakness? For all he knew this Samer hid evil intentions behind that flighty mask. Then again... this would be a most helpful opportunity if his intentions were genuine. 'Do you have the supplies?' He asked, hesitantly. He would need a small, straight piece of wood and cloth, he knew. After a moment's pause to consider the consequences, Giggle sighed and spoke. 'Sure. I'd appreciate it.'
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Lysander could sense the resistance, the hesitance, of the coyote. Was he afraid? Good, he should be Lysander decided. What kind of canine trusted some random stranger that came stumbling right out of Halifax? The question posed tickled his funny bone and the husky laughed heartily. “Of course I have the supplies! What kind of medic would I be if I wasn’t prepared? Can ya imagine me goin' around, treating people with garbage I found on the street. Ah!” He let out another deep laugh, patting the male on the shoulder as if to congratulate him on making such a fine joke. And then he agreed to the rebreaking and resetting of the bone, and Lysander, or Samer, nodded sagely offering the creature a warm smile. This was just great.
“Good, good. We’ll have ya fixed up in no time at all!” He mind was only a few places ahead of him on the mental game board he had laid out for this encounter, and so at times he had to improvise, especially if Giggle gave him an answer he didn’t expect. Ly hadn’t dream of anyone agreeing to let him break their arm, free of charge. Remembering the bottle in his hands he held it up to the male, his eyes concerned as he peered at the coyote. “I think ya should take some of this as we head to my clinic. It’ll help a lot with the pain, and I wouldn’t want to hurt ya anymore than I absolutely have to. No sir. Not in our code of ethics. So if ya will, I’ll lead the way.” Still holding it out to the male, he turned his head back towards the heart of the city, confident he could find some place soon enough suitable for his clinic.
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
ooc|| sorry, short! D:
What was he getting himself into? The laugh set him on edge. He watched Samer seriously, uneasily, but his words were at least reassuring. Giggle was starting to doubt his own survival skills. At the same time, the coyote desperately needed to have his arm fixed. If it wasn't attended to, he would end up as a gimp, and useless. Useless to his clan, useless to anyone... that was worse than the idea that this stranger might trick him and make him worse. The benefits outweighed the risks, and so he would suck it up. He looked at the bottle as the husky spoke again. 'Fine.' His voice was clipped. Gig wanted to get this over with, and get this over with fast. His unease had finally slowed his incessant need to talk. 'Lead the way.'
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
ooc|| sorry, short! D:
What was he getting himself into? The laugh set him on edge. He watched Samer seriously, uneasily, but his words were at least reassuring. Giggle was starting to doubt his own survival skills. At the same time, the coyote desperately needed to have his arm fixed. If it wasn't attended to, he would end up as a gimp, and useless. Useless to his clan, useless to anyone... that was worse than the idea that this stranger might trick him and make him worse. The benefits outweighed the risks, and so he would suck it up. He looked at the bottle as the husky spoke again. 'Fine.' His voice was clipped. Gig wanted to get this over with, and get this over with fast. His unease had finally slowed his incessant need to talk. 'Lead the way.'
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i dont understand how that happened? D:
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Nodding he opened the bottle and shoved the bottle into Giggle’s hand, quite clumsily. Momentarily Lysander missed the feel of the bottle in his hands, would the coyote actually drink the stuff? It was quite strong, but so far he had played along with the husky. Just how far could he take it? “Drink up sonny! I want to see at least half that stuff gone before I get to work, yeah?” Lysander set off, not bothering to look back to see if Giggle complied with the orders but kicking debris out of the path every now and then as if to make the journey easier on the lame coyote. They were headed back into the heart of the city, the buildings growing up around them, becoming taller. Lysander’s skillful eyes darted in and out of the windows, searching for the right building to choose as his clinic.
“How ya comin’ with that stuff?” Lysander looked back to see if any at all had been consumed. He would prolong the walk to make sure that the male was taking in the alcohol, it would make the game exponentially more enjoyable for the dog if his patient was drunk. Turning back to the path, he hummed to himself, passing by buildings left and right, all the while as if he knew where he was going. “So ah, Giggle, how’d ya go about breakin’ that arm anyway? Huh? It seems like a bad one. You clumsy or somethin’?” ‘Samer’ let his tail wag as he spoke, being oh so cheerful for the coyote in his charge.
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
ooc|| ugh, sorry i made you wait D:
The bottle was shoved into his grip, and without a scintilla of hesitation took a gulp. He felt the raw burn in his throat as the alcohol went down but ignored it, content to simply follow the medic's orders. Giggle followed Samer farther into the city, occasionally taking swings from the bottle. The desired effect of the alcohol was beginning to take hold in him; it never took very much to knock him out. He mumbled a weak 'fine' when the husky addressed him, his tongue heavy in his mouth. The coyote was not a particularly interesting drunk. If anything he was even more boring, growing quieter.
He shrugged at the question, opening his mouth for a moment before words came out. 'I gottina fight. Well, got my ass kicked.' That was pretty much all there was to it. A seven month pup and a pregnant woman. How pathetic. 'Damn wolves,' he added as an afterthought, mostly to himself. He looked at the buildings passing by. 'How muc'longerr?'
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“Not much longer, in fact here we are!” Lysander improvised as he came up to a building, which seemed official enough. The door was open already and he could see that the first room was a office of sorts and a waiting room. Maybe he would luck out. Walking inside, he smiled as Giggle followed him, noting that his step was not as steady as a sober person’s. Lysander moved about as if he knew what he was doing, never once missing a beat. Moving past the waiting room and office Ly shoved open a door, to reveal a dentist’s care and internally Leland swore. Why a dentist’s office and not a doctor’s? Ah well, perhaps the brute didn’t know enough about human medicine to know the difference, and really who care? Maybe Samer had a good reason for choosing this as his clinic?
“Alright now, up on this chair you go.” Lysander offered a hand to help the male up, not bothering to look around the room but happy enough that he didn’t accidentally pick a lawyer’s office or an accountant’s. A dentist’s office probably looked pretty official he decided. Making small talk as the male, he picked up the conversation from outside. “Damn wolves indeed. Can’t ever trust a wolf, that’s what my pappy always said. They’re liars and cheats and bullies. And they really did a number on you.. but we’ll get it fixed up in now time.” They had plenty of fun toys to play with in the dentist’s office.
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
'Ly shoved open a door, to reveal a dentist’s care and internally Leland swore.' Split personalities, lol? XD<3
They had reached a building, the details of which were hard for the coyote as he descended into blissful drunkenness.
Giggle had almost been too happy to oblige the male and were he in a better state of mind, he would have begun to regret it as they entered the dentist's office. Luckily for Samer, all the man could smell was the artificial plastic under layers of dust and see bright lights and chairs, and thus assumed that this was, in fact, an office. He was shuffled into a chair and crinkled his eyebrows slightly. 'Always thought that doctors used couches,' he mumbled but didn't resist.
Giggle nodded vehemently as the husky spoke, continuing his previous line of thought. 'Yeah, yeah! Nev'r had an opin'on 'till they ganged up on me. It was even a child, too! A child an' some devil woman. Think it's the packlife, drives'em nuts, too close together.' He was babbling without noticing, pressing the bottle into his chest as he spoke. It was almost completely depleted by now. His eyes were bleary. The coyote sighed and relaxed his broken arm, letting his eyes fall closed, just for a moment, even though it felt so nice... he sat, comfortably drowsy, almost asleep, waiting for the male to do his job.
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Lysander chuckled as Giggle climbed into the chair, drunk coyotes were fun. “Only them crazy head doctors use couches.” He moved away and opened a cabinet, pretending to be busy looking for tools. “Why, you need one of them?” Lysander smiled to himself, turned away from Giggle so that the male couldn’t see. He probably would have only mistaken it for a friendly gesture anyway. Pretending to be a psychologist would be ten times as much fun, giving people advice they asked for, and the wrong kind at that, was right up Lysander’s alley. However he doubted many canines came looking for help from strangers, they liked their fucked up lives too much. It was a pity, Lysander was sure he would hear some funny stories and give some great advice in return.
Picking up a small, round mirror with a long bent handle, Lysander smiled, putting it away in his pouch. He pulled forth sharp picks and prods and items he didn’t know what they were but if they interested him enough he put them in his bag as well. Then he found the small surgical sharp knife and pressing it against his skin he found it to be in good condition. Ly watched as the small trickle of blood from the cut he made got mixed into his fur, he’d let it dry that way. Moving over to Giggle, he cut the sling away with the knife, liking the way the fabric cut so quickly. “Well make you a new one. Yup.” And then he pressed his hands firmly around the arm, right where the break was. He squeezed. “This hurt?”
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i'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
The coyote's mind was drifting, unable to wrap it's fingers around any coherent thought. He laughed at the other, something he didn't often do. 'Oh, yeh. I prob'ly could. I think I'm path-pathe-weak.' Giggled leaned back into the chair comfortably, trying to watch Samer but getting distracted by all the equipment. For some reason he kept talking. 'Y'know th'wolves that beat me up?' his words were drawn out, slow, stumbled. 'It was a-- puppy. An' a pregnant woman. Gawd, I'm pat-- weak. An' you know what--' Now he was starting to get into it, spilling his lifes woes out to the husky. '-- th' only reason I left m'home was 'cause my brahther, he picked on m-me.'
The husky moved back to him and sliced away the sling. He shifted and yawned. 'An then I kind-of like this, this girl. An' she's all bold an' strong an' she wansta open my 'third eye' or summat, an' I dou- I don't think she'd like me very much, if she knew what a cow-- cowa-- how much I suck.' His attention was diverted as Samer grabbed his arm and squeezed it. Pain ricocheted up his arm and back. The coyote yelped, 'Christ!', loudly and promptly passed out.
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Lysander smiled and nodded, indulging the coyote in his drunken, slurred story. He really didn’t care, but doctors were supposed to ask questions and act like the listened. Every so often Lysander took his left hand and scratched his chin, nodding and humming to himself. “Mmmmhmmm, yeah.” It was only when he tested the male’s arm and the creature yelped out loudly did Lysander break his act. He laughed loudly. Now a real doctor would never do that. It didn’t matter. Much to Ly’s disappointment the creature had blacked out. Poking him sharply in the arm, the male did not stir. Giggle was out cold. Shrugging he looked around the room one last time, gathered up his sack and left, leaving the poor fool to wake up alone, probably with a headache and sour stomach.
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