❅ SHITTY LITTLE TOWN ❅ PART 3

[nightmods]

SHITTY LITTLE TOWN ❅ PART 3

The cracks are starting to show. People have been reforging connections. Rebuilding their senses of self.

Digging into things that are potentially sinister, their curiosity dangerously piqued. Now, too many truths are coming back to the surface for everything to stay suppressed.

Somewhere deep in the MineCorp mines, a wire snaps. Then another, and another.

PROMPTS

a)  A CRACK IN THE DAM

A feeling of déjà vu is commonplace, and people’s dreams start to contain more and more imagery that doesn’t align with the lives they know here in this shitty little town – fantastical sleighs, huge golden globes, fae and monsters. Some people stop automatically responding when their name is called, because the name they’re being called feels wrong. Others discover they have talents at skills they don’t remember ever trying before.

But it remains out of reach until they do something that affirms their true self, an act that goes down to the core of who they are. It might be true love’s kiss, or placing a hand on their signature weapon, or invoking certain words when speaking truth to power. One way or another, once that final requirement is met...it all comes flooding back.

b)  PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER

Your character remembers who they are, but their powers haven’t returned! The nefarious makers of the spell suppressing powers must be defeated. But who are the nefarious makers of the spell?

Several people have several parts of the puzzle. Time to put them together, anonymously, on the network. Skye has taken it upon herself to facilitate a discussion forum online with all accounts highly anonymized and access granted only by a password; details are being spread by word of mouth, friend to friend, always with the warning that just because the accounts are anonymous doesn’t mean that Goluboy or his people couldn’t try to sleuth people’s identities from context clues.

Skye sets a time for when the discussion forum will go live, and at midnight that evening, a website goes live with a simple comment post function and a message that all data will be deleted within 24 hours.

NETWORK LINK

The jig is up!

The source of the curse – and other mischief – is traced to Kyan Goluboy, and Noire Cygne. Confrontation with each of them will trigger counter-attacks and defenses.

c)  CONFRONTING CYGNE

As soon as Cygne is confronted, or receives word from Goluboy that the jig is up, wilis pour into town. Normally, these undead jilted brides will dance to death whoever they get their hands on, but in a hurry they’ll resort to tearing their prey apart. Any person who the wilis get their hands on will be overwhelmed by an empathetic sense of their grief, shame, and hatred, and control of their body will be taken over as they are swept into the deadly dance.

The wilis are strong against physical violence, but can be burned by sunlight, or artificial growlights. People dancing with wilis can be pulled out of their embrace and pulled to safety, but only those with formal dance training stand a chance of changing the course of the deadly waltz, once touched.

The sheriff’s department forms the final level of defense around Noire Cygne’s mansion and person. Get past the chaos of the wilis throughout town, and Sheriff Mallard and her deputies stand between your heroes and the town matriarch.

d)  CONFRONTING GOLUBOY

Destroying the torture machine hidden hidden in MineCorp will end the curse and restore all powers. Too bad everyone will have to sneak past mine workers and security guards who’ve been promised a big fat bonus for bringing your characters alive and restrained to Goluboy’s office. As the man himself would say, nothing makes a person work harder than money. Some of the wilis have made their way into the mines as well...

e)  AFTERMATH

The villains have been defeated!

What will your heroes do with them? Can any of their past victims still be saved? It’s time to convene and pass judgement on your captors, and check that every I is dotted and every T is crossed.

OOC DETAILS
❅ Event Length: This part of the plot will last until 10/15, and the situation with the npcs are meant to be resolved by then, though general CR threads can continue to be backtagged after that.

Comments

[bestbrotherever]

The question is probably rhetorical, but Loki can't help thinking about it, coming up with an answer, and vocalizing it.

"Because this is not the worst they can imagine. Certainly they have only the slimmest of prospects, but they are currently fed and housed. Bad things may happen, but they can convince themselves that such misfortune will never befall them. They are not desperate enough to fight for something better, not when it means risking what security they do have. Cygne and Goluboy likely engineered it that way, so they could control the town and its people for their entire lives. That is, if they do not intend to become immortal."

And isn't that a horrifying thought. This town, stuck in this rut forever, without even the hope that the puppet-masters who made it that way will die and their hold will be broken.

[bestbrotherever]

Loki half-rises, but Stacia- Anna? is gone before he's more than an inch out of his seat. He gives Dan a helpless shrug that contains its own share of hurt and sits back down.

"I think it would be better if I stay here. We do not want her to think we are ambushing her together."

He purses his lips. "Is there anyone else in residence who does not know? I presume Bunny remembers, is he the owner of the farm?"

[credit_not_blame]

Anna hears Dan calling after her but she doesn't bother to register the words. His tone is soothing and calming, but: fuck that. She runs into her room and slams the door behind her, then drops to her knees to shove a wedge under the door. It won't stop them if they're determined to come after her, but it'll at least slow them down while they're pretending to be nice. She also wedges a chair under the doorknob for the same reason. She'd prepared for something like this.

Just because she'd been willing to give Aster's judgment the benefit of the doubt when he said Dan was fine didn't mean that she hadn't been prepared to take steps to keep herself safe.

With the door blocked, however temporarily, Anna doesn't need to run. She crosses to the window and peers outside to make sure the knife-wielding maniac hadn't circled around to cut off her escape.

[bringinghopewithme]

"I reckon you're correct," he breathes, nuzzling his beard all over Dan's face, pressing his chest into Dan's, feeling the friction of his chest hair against Dan's skin. "We better go upstairs before someone sees."

It's like waking up from a dream of being someone else and not needing the adjustment time of waiting for all the context to return; the context is just back, layered on top of the memory of the time he spent living some life other than his.

Dan's already in his arms so it's easy to scoop him up, get back inside and to the privacy of Dan's room. Upstairs and spooning, restoring his fill of getting Dan in his arms, Bunny drifts from relief at having remembered that Dan is his beloved husband who he's free to cuddle as much as he wants into problem solving.

"I love you. I missed you." It bears so much repeating. He squeezes Dan in his arms, wondering how he's going to bear to let go. Knowing also that they're in the middle of something dangerous and important and there are so many parts of the puzzle they've still got to pick apart, with so much more context now to go over it.

"I think I know what the aim of this curse is," he says. "Goluboy's trying to trick me into signing away the Warren."

Better that they jump straight into problem solving before Dan has time to dwell on the horrors that getting his memories back is going to remind him of.

[boldboimler]

"It shouldn't be like this!" The pacing gets faster. "It shouldn't be so unfair. People like them shouldn't be able to hoard everything for themselves, while their workers half-starve, and while they hurt anyone that doesn't work themselves to death or give everything over to them. Everyone should be able to feed their families and keep a roof over their heads without practically killing themselves. No!"

He stops pacing and starts gesturing wildly.

"No, they should get to do more than that! People should get to enjoy themselves. They should be so comfortable they have time to better themselves. People should have leisure time, the educational system shouldn't be absolute garbage, and what is with this town having no access to the arts?!"

Insanity!

"You know what it is?! It's malarkey! You heard me, malarkey!"

His expression is pained.

"I have been stuck on that stupid vineyard, I gave up everything I ever wanted to do, because I knew it was the only way our workers could have anything close to a decent life, but I should have been able to leave. They should have been okay enough for me to leave."

He clenches up his fists.

"I wanted to explore. I wanted to go to school. I wanted find some place somewhere where there was something new to discover. Instead, I'm stuck in this garbage dump of town because of Cygne and Goluboy."

He waves his hands wildly again.

"When I hate raisins! I hate them so much! And I hate vineyard flies! and I hate being sticky all the freakin' time! There's a reason I left the vineyard and joined Starflee - oh my God, something altered our memories."

He holds a hand to his head as it all comes rushing in. Leaving the vineyard - leaving a world where everyone was taken care of, where the vineyard's workers worked there not to make a living but because they deeply enjoyed horticulture and had free homes and free food to go back to, where nobody wanted for anything, where people did better themselves, where they did enjoy the arts, where they could get an education, where humanity realized that nobody should get to practically enslave others with a threat of homelessness and starvation.

Where they moved on from the darkness of the past - and not just the darkness of the nuclear wars and the age of gene-altered warlords and the post-atomic Horror - but of the far past. No more capitalism, no more bigotry between humans, no more social ills like starvation and war and homelessness.

Where he had been free to leave and travel across the stars, exploring and finding things far, far more alien and captivating than anything on Earth.

He points at Loki.

"You just mentioned Asgard. You remember everything, too, don't you."

[hallelujahjunction]

"No, as far as I can tell she don't." Dan sighs. "I got my memories back by kissing my spouse. I don't reckon I know what she'd need to remember who she is."

Dan leans back in the garden chair and blows another plume of smoke, mulling it all over. He doesn't like that someone's already been disappeared, and he thinks if Goluboy intended to keep Paul alive, they would have gotten word of a hostage.

"Right. At the very least, we can't assume none of them will be allies to us. What do you think we ought to do, round up folks we recognize and try to press them to remember? I reckon even those that don't will be more amenable to doing the right thing for heroic purposes than the average person."

The Man in the Moon tends to select for altruism and bravery.

[bestbrotherever]

Loki grins and claps a hand on Boimler's shoulder. "Welcome back, ensign. And it seems I was right, you are back and there is still no phaser in sight."

His tone is flippant, but the sentiment is heartfelt.

"We may not be able to fix this entire world, but we can still do something to improve the lives of those here."

[bestbrotherever]

"Ah... that is too bad. Perhaps she will remember if around wolves? Or if she is given someone to protect. That is what reminded me."

Loki doesn't think Goluboy wants to use Paul/Apollo as a hostage, but that he might not have broken the man yet and made him reveal who he leaked the information to. Goluboy is ruthless enough to disappear all of them who received that email, especially as they were already kidnapped myths, and the fact that none of them had seen any goons yet strongly suggested that Goluboy didn't know who they were.

"That was my plan, such as it was. Everyone is starting to realize something is wrong in this town, not just us myths. The more we break the illusion of normalcy, the more the other myths will think about their surroundings and what is wrong and start to remember themselves. So we find those we recognize and poke at them as much as we can without scaring them off."

His mouth quirks. "I might have more luck than you. You do not seem to have a good reputation among town. Though I might not soon, either. I have not staged my disappearance yet, but as soon as I am certain of a more defensible home, I intend to."

ota

[blame_canada]

Wade is, surprise surprise, actually doing a little work in his lot. Mostly it's just scrubbing bird crap off of cars and cleaning off the glass

Except, when he gets to wiping down the side mirrors of a Honda Odyssey he stops. Because there is something wrong with his face.

Wrong is the wrong word for it, though. It's fine. Perfect even. The kind of face that could be on the big screen of he wasn't such a colossal trashfire of a human being. Nevertheless, there's something wrong with it.

...Or maybe the problem is that it's right. Too right. And Wade can't get the idea out of his head that it shouldn't be.

[hallelujahjunction]

When they're in a good state to start talking about the crisis at hand, Dan settles into the bed with the communicator between them, face up, so that they can keep monitoring new comments on the forum. Dan keeps his fingers wrapped around Bunny's, the two of them holding hands as the sunset starts to turn the room pink and red.

"So we're assuming we're working with someone who understands the Warren enough to know how valuable it is." Dan raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of wine. "What was the giveaway? Just how desperate he was to run you out?"

[demonicmiracle]

"The librarian's a bleeding heart, he'd help." There's confidence in Crowley's voice that he doesn't quite feel; Aziraphale's a decent sort, but this would be asking a lot of someone who doesn't even like Crowley. There aren't many other options, though. Julian would do his best, but he's not exactly in a good position to help.

Hopefully this is all a moot point and they can have a discussion about actual back up plans later, when they're both perfectly safe. Crowley hates having to keep some distance, but he knows Cato will kick up a stink about it if he stays too close, and that would only make things worse.

He sees the first office before the man blocks their exit, but it's too late to do anything about it and too late to turn around. He has the sense to look slightly offended when Cato calls him some rando, and holds up his hands as if planning to back off.

But this town loves nothing if not gossip. He can work with that. "Goodspeed, you said? Isn't he the one that got kidnapped a couple years back?" Talking for the sake of it, hoping it might offer a distraction for Cato to get away. "You find a co-conspirator or something? Or, fuck me, don't tell me those foster parents are some sickos, too? Always thought there was something a bit off about them, letting these kids run around like bloody hooligans. What's that other one called? Bobby?"

He makes a sort of vague gesture, then steps a little closer to the office blocking their planned exit, leaning in conspiratorially, "If they are sickos, you might want to keep an eye on this one after what he did to the last person who kidnapped him, you know? Who knows what he's carrying on him." It's a bit of a risk to make Cato sound more dangerous, but maybe the fear of a weapon will give Cato the second he needs to escape.

using his cat journal from now on even tho he's human for the expressions lol

[furtitude]

The officer does turn because Crowley is chattering away and it is distracting and suspicious.

"Sir, I said step away," he says, and now he turns to try to get Crowley clear from the scene, not quite shoving at him, but definitely looming and holding his hands out as a wall. He's also starting to look suspicious at his involvement. So Crowley's distraction works. There are only three focused on Cato now.

The female officer says, "Cato, we had concerning reports that you were possibly hurt by someone at Cygne's ball. We wanted to bring you in for questioning about it."

"'Reports.' Riiight," Cato says.

He's still not buying it. Either they're lying or have been lied to, but he'd put far more money on lying. But his eyes are on the officer near Crowley. For just a moment, there's a horrible vision of a bleeding hole in Crowley's chest and he doesn't know where it came from. But that might happen. What happens if they try to take him in and Crowley gets in the way? Will they shoot him?

Will he fall away from the ship, his chest blown open - no, that's not -

Will he lay there in a coffin with a hole in his chest as Cato cries over his friend, his friend who'd saved him several times over, who always wanted to be gentle but was willing to join his original crew's fight against something terrible - no, that's not -

The officer shoves at Crowley now.

Will he lay there bleeding in Cato's arms from the holes in his chest, like Gary had? No, that's not -

The gun pointing at Avocato is in his hand. His father is standing there bleeding with a hole to the chest, the gun trembling in Cato's hands -

That's not him, he doesn't know how to fight, he doesn't know how to use a gun, he doesn't know how defend himself with more than rage and desperation, he doesn't know how to defend one of the only people that would've noticed if he was gone.

Who was willing to set the thing that looked like Lord Commander on fire in the space of a heartbeat, because Cato looked scared -

Lord Commander. Not Jack. Jack, but not - not the same Jack -

You can protect him. It'll hurt to let it all in. But you can.

"Cato, we need you to come with us -"

The three focusing on him have their hands near their belts - they're expecting the need for force. They're all in on it.

You need to let it in, says a voice that sounds like him but not him. Yeah, it'll suck, but you're not just someone that has things happen to him. You always fight back. You even made him mad on purpose anytime you got bored, instead of crying in the dark.

It wasn't some dank sub-basement, where he trembled in the dark until his vicious fight to get free, it was multiple dark and terrible prisons...where he told Lord Commander how much he looked like crap and refused to be intimidated.

You have claws. You have teeth. And you haven't used them enough.

You're Ventrexian.

The dam breaks and it all pours in. It makes Cato tear up. This life had been kind of nice in some ways. He remembered having a different, softer childhood, with a father that he realizes now was a mix of Avocato and Gary - the good parts of both. He got to go to school and even had a few friends. He got to listen to Crowley's dad rock records. He got to run around skateboarding and just being a kid. He got to be a public menace with Boba.

He'd been kidnapped for less time, even. Less violence, less cosmic terror, less zombie alternates of his dad. And he'd gotten to even kill his kidnapper - and have him stay dead.

But there was a price, in that he'd forgotten who he was and who he left behind in his world. In that he'd been far more afraid. In that he'd had far less personal power. In that the blood on his hands after defending himself had been far more traumatizing, versus something to just...wash away.

After swaying in place slightly for a moment, he says, "It's Cato."

"What?" says one of the three officers facing him, confused.

"Cah-to - like 'cot'?" Cato corrects. "Not Cay-to like 'fate'."

"Kid, we don't have time for -"

What happens next happens ridiculously fast. He does a flip over a display table of cupcakes and while his landing is a little unsteady, he still manages to kick it over so the tabletop is facing the female officer, Cop 1. Then he kicks it again so fast and hard that most of the cupcakes are still on it as it slams into her legs, knocking her over and leaving her in a pile of baked goods and frosting that have escaped their packaging.

Apparently, he's supposed to be brought in alive, because the next officer, Cop 2, reacts by drawing his TASER and firing, but a quick sidestep causes the barbed prongs to hit Cop 3 in the neck, immediately causing him to go down, twitching, before the Taser Cop goes "shit!" and takes his finger off the trigger.

He drops the TASER and goes for his baton next but the boy punches him in the throat with a, "hey, thanks!" stealing the baton and hitting him in the head with it and knocking him out.

Cop 1, cupcake cop, is almost on her feet again, reaching for her gun now, but Cato sees the entire aisle behind her has cleared out due to seeing some kind of ruckus and police. No risk of hitting someone innocent. It's a brick wall on that far side of the super market, too. Cop 2 is still on his way down, having dropped to his knees first, so Cato steals his sidearm as he goes, shooting the gun out of Cupcake Cop's hand, a trick shot that's only supposed to exist in the movies. She goes down screaming, holding her now maimed hand, but it's definitely a non-fatal injury.

It gives him time to kick a can of soup in the air and roundhouse kick it at her head. He wobbles on the landing but it hits its mark and knocks her out.

The last officer, who'd been confronting Crowley, didn't react quickly enough. He's turned by now, and his hand is at his sidearm, but Cato throws the stolen baton at his head, knocking him unconscious.

Surrounded by ruined baked goods and four unconscious cops, chest heaving as he catches his breath, the gun held down at his side with such comfort it seems like he was born with it in his hand, he looks at his handiwork and says, "Sweeeet. Still got it! Even with my balance totally off."

He looks pleased with himself, like it was totally normal for him to go full Bourne Identity. He looks up at Crowley, "Buuuut we should probably go."

He snags another clip off a fallen cop but doesn't dare ransack more. They need to run for it, like, yesterday. It's not like they can take refuge in the vastness of space to escape him beating the snot out of the po po. He moves towards the entrance to the back.

"They're so lucky I don't know how much they're in on it or I wouldn't have held back."

He's still human, but there's something strange about his body language now. Something that's a mix between cagey and confident, guileless and slinking. He doesn't move like a human anymore, not entirely.

[bringinghopewithme]

"Pretty much. He's been after me to 'sell my property,' not 'sell this land.' I've only ever heard him phrase it like that. This farm isn't my property. The Warren's the only thing anyone who thinks of land as property would call mine." He rolls his eyes. "I don't care to have to hire someone versed in whatever law he's working with to argue whether or not it is."

In the meantime, they've got other angles to this problem to approach. He toys with Dan's fingers, smiling despite the danger they're in. "True love's kiss, huh?" he murmers. "What kind of fairy tale are we in?"

[hallelujahjunction]

"I wonder if he's fae. Or a demon. Some spirits really appreciate trapping folks in contracts, too. Might could be a djinn." Dan gives the back of Bunny's hand a kiss. "Thank God you're stubborn and can't be motivated by a dollar."

A more venal or persuadable version of Bunny would have been disaster for everyone, but Dan doesn't think that version of Bunny exists. Not his, not the one that lived in this universe and got captured, not in any universe. It feels like having an iron spine and a decent set of priorities is almost as close to Bunny's center as hope itself.

"One with a happy ending, I hope." Dan kneads his free hand into the blankets in a self-soothing motion. "Already been enough people died here. Let's see we keep it to as little bloodshed as possible. I'm worried about the power players, obviously, but I'm worried as much about the townsfolk and whether folks will consider them an acceptable loss."

Re: PLOT RUNNER QUESTIONS

[furtitude]

Does the dossier on people no one would miss have any of the PCs on it that have been targeted like Cato or Logan, or any kids known to have gone missing in town, whether scholarship winners or skids or what have you.

I'm wondering how much would be cross referenced between "people who have gone missing/got nearly disappeared" vs people on their "nobody would miss" list.

[bringinghopewithme]

"Stubbornness, my best virtue," Bunny chuckles, kissing Dan's hand back. "When haven't I given you a happy ending?" He teases, before getting down to business again. "Fae if anything, I reckon. This town is depressing, but living here isn't torture. Not for everyone alive, anyway."

Bunny frowns as he considers that they've already observed one death.

"That miner who died, and the company wouldn't retrieve his body. Could have been what they said, but I don't trust Goluboy any more than I'd trust Kuk. I had a talk with that lawyer of his and we both realized Cygne's companies are the only ones getting food into and out of town, if she's not just producing it out of thin air. I think it'd take them both to pull off this curse. Could anyone else be a power player?"

[shittylittlenpcs]

"Can't we sedate him?" One of the guards whines.

"No, dumbass, that would alter his chemistry. The machine takes them alert or it doesn't take them!"

The guards keep on walking Logan down the tunnels. Its a long, long walk until they reach a ladder set into the ground.

Goluboy aims a revolver at Logan and the guards untie him and stand back at Goluboy's sides, blocking the way back. "Get down there," Goluboy orders, to the hole in the ground and the ladder down it.

[worstverine]

Kill 'im. It's just a gun.

The errant thought makes no sense. He ignores it. He knows he's drunk, even if the adrenaline is sobering.

Logan stands there unsteadily and it is only the fact that the unknown threat might be more survivable than the known one that he even considers it, instead of just lunging. There may be a better moment to try to get the gun away than here.

"Whatever's down there better kill me," he says, the threat clear. He doesn't need to elaborate, when he's seen Goluboy's face.

He's just as human as ever, but there is something in the eyes that is something other. Something of the animal he always is alongside the man, regardless of body or powers, that only ever got tucked away and civilized out of grudging respect for those he'd cared about.

And they're all gone now, in either life.

Other people have looked into those eyes and known by shivering instinct that they weren't walking away. It's like being three feet away from a polar bear.

He slowly starts making his way down the ladder, a struggle with feet that feel like lead.

[bostonhowler]

I can lead the way back to the decoy, sure. That's the easy part. You have a way for getting around security?

Paul / OPEN (to any with mine access) / TW for descriptions of brutal injury

[divasmio]

The torture chamber at the end of the mine had a handful of cages built into the cavern. Turns out it's a great place to stash a whistleblower for an impromptu interrogation.

The gunshot wound in his leg had gotten minimal treatment before he was dragged down here. It had been enough to keep him alive for the time being — Crudely bandaged to stop the bleeding, at least — but it hadn't healed right. The few times he'd tried to walk, it hadn't supported his weight at all. Now it was starting to show signs of infection.

Goluboy and his goons had been trying to get Paul to name who he sent the evidence to, but he'd steadfastly kept his mouth shut. The interrogation tactics got increasingly brutal — At some point, Paul was certain that Goluboy had given up on the interrogation and was just enjoying his new punching bag.

Bloody, bruised, and zip-tied to a heavy chair, Paul had been floating in and out of consciousness for days. Being awake was nothing but pain, nausea and hunger. Sleep was nothing but nightmares filled with lightning and serpents and drowning.

At least in his sleep, the sharp, hot pain radiating from his leg wasn't as prominent. And every time he woke, it was getting easier and easier to fall back asleep. It probably wouldn't be much longer until he'd never have to wake up again.

:3 kitty

[demonicmiracle]

Crowley would like to think of himself as someone who's relatively quick on the uptake. Someone who can roll with the metaphorical punches and adapt to whatever the world throws at him. He's even had less-than-pleasant interactions with cops before, though it's not quite the same now, when he has to worry about firearms.

Still, he manages to keep his wits about him for the first few seconds, ready to shove this piece of shit cop right back, before everything gets truly wild.

Following the movement is difficult when it happens so fast, he hears a taser go off, sees one of the cops fall, but the gunshot is what snaps him out of it and by the time the fourth officer is reaching for his weapon, Crowley has the sense to grab at his wrist, hoping to delay him for at least a few seconds. Only for the man to go stiff then limp as the baton strikes him.

It leaves Crowley standing in the mess of a grocery store aisle with four unconscious cops and the teenager who just took them all out in less than a minute. When Cato addresses him, all he can do for a second is make unintelligible noises, but he manages to kick his brain back into gear eventually.

"What— shit, nope, no time. Let's go." He's going to usher Cato out, as if he has any semblance of control over this situation, casting occasional glances back at the officers in case one of them recovers quickly.

None of them do, thank fuck, and Crowley's hands are only shaking a little as he unlocks his car so he and Cato can climb in. If he had a nickle for every time he'd had to make a quick exit with Cato in his car, he'd have two nickles.

He's not hanging around here, though, so even if he has no idea where to go next, he's pulling out of the parking lot as soon as Cato's in the car. "Can you take the clip out of that thing?" What a wild fucking thing to say.

(=✪ᆽ✪=)

[furtitude]

Boy, Crowley sure looks beshookt but Cato gets it. Cato has no idea how they got here or what changed them but it's not hard to guess it's a mission gone wrong, something that got into their heads and made them think they're a part of this super messed up town. He's seen some of the others, after all, like Boba. They all must have gotten trapped somehow.

Which means Crowley is sort of normal-guyish and doesn't have any context for this. It must be completely bewildering to suddenly have a person you know transform (mentally, if not physically) into a slightly different person.

(It doesn't feel like the fake human Cato wasn't him, but he feels more...complete this way. And definitely more confident. That kind of thing comes with competence.)

"Yeah, I can do that." He ejects the clip and clears the chamber like he could do it in his sleep. Past-time guns are different from what he has back home, but after realizing he might wind up stuck with one and not his normal gun on a mission, he's practiced with one of the ones he stole from Project Prometheus.

And he was right, naturally. He did need to know how to use them.

Sensing that Crowley is a might anxious, he puts the gun and clip in the glovebox. For now. If Crowley goes for it, he's taking it back.

He drums his fingers against his knees, awkwardly trying to figure out how to raise the subject of 'so by the way, you're brainwashed right now, and usually something probably not human that can shoot fireballs and turn into a big snake, but I actually don't know whether it's a magic thing or just a alien thing because you play it really close to the vest.'

But maybe he should start smaller.

"...so you probably have some questions..."

[demonicmiracle]

It's a strange thing to realize that the tension he feels has little to do with concern that Cato doesn't know how to handle the gun; there's something else about the weapon that sits unpleasantly in his chest, but he doesn't want to look too closely at the thought, as if there's something dangerous down that particular road. His life has enough trouble right now, he doesn't need to go adding to it by indulging in useless introspection.

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" If there's a slight edge of hysteria in his voice, that's his own business, because he has it handled and it's fine and he's driving exactly at the speed limit to avoid unwanted attention, suddenly grateful that he drives the same kind of car that half the town drives. They're not going to be able to avoid the consequences of this, but he can delay it for a little while, especially if he aims for the edges of town where they're less likely to run into a patrol. "Yet here I am, not a bloody question on my mind 'cause I wouldn't have a clue where to even start with how nonsensical this week has been. Do bats eat cats? Do cats eat bats?"

Quoating Alice In Wonderland isn't how he expected to end that sentence, and yet it feels apt now that he's drawn the comparison. Cato is the white rabbit, it seems, leading him into a world where nothing makes a lick of sense and a powerful old woman is offing people left and right. Or maybe he's the Cheshire Cat, considering how much easier he seems to be handling this situation.

[furtitude]

Well, he is a cat, even if he's missing a tail, fur, pointy ears, and little pawses right now.

He totally misses the reference. And now he's playing with the locks in the car because there is a novelty in this absolutely archaic form of transportation. He's re-interacting with a very normal past-times Earth as himself this time. Everything is new again.

"I don't actually know what eats what? Until a friend let me name his cat and then I wound up in this town, I only knew what cats were because my dad calls me spider-cat as a nickname."

Present tense, not past. His dad is a alive again - one of the best possible side effects of this regaining his memory thing.

"Because I am kind of what you might call cat-like? Cattish? When I'm in my normal body." There, he broke the ice. He cringes a little as he continues, "You know my super skilled cat alien OC? Who has space adventures? Fighting unspeakable cosmic horrors?"

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan's free hand drums his fingers against his lip as he thinks.

"Can't couldn't be Mallard and the deputies. I'd have could heard them during my drunk tank stints. They're clueless patsies at worst." Dan suspects even Mallard doesn't have any idea what her mother's up to, but is just so used to not asking questions and being obedient to survive in that household that she's embraced being complicit in whatever horrible thing it is. "Don't no one else here got enough money, but they always might could be getting resources just for themselves from outside or have a benefactor."

Which is one of the many reasons Dan wants to make sure Cygne and Goluboy don't get murdered first thing. There's far too much about this that the myths don't understand. But also, Dan's thoughts are full of bloody, death-soaked memories, and it's cowed him to feeling as gentle as he's ever felt. He doesn't want to have to witness any death today.