[He'd just shrugged off the bee thing as some typo, because of course he had, that made the most sense at the time.
But he's probably able to get there quicker than her and is casually leaning against the railing of the deck with a cigar of all things held tightly between lips and teeth. Luckily coming from the Lounge means that he's dressed nicely compared to his usual hobo looking comfortable wear, wings hanging loosely at his sides and tail slowly swaying.]
[A moth circles him once or twice when he first pitches up, then takes itself off.
Taylor's still dressed for working, which today means jeans cut off at the knee and a blank gray hoodie that looks tailored, having been made with just one sleeve for her one arm. Scraps, the blue and yellow cross between a ferret and a centipede, is curled up in the hood, her chin resting on Taylor's good shoulder. She doesn't have to look around for him when she reaches the deck, coming straight to join him with a little wave.]
[With how weird this place is, he can guess that's at least some sort of signal and is proven right not long after. He shifts a little to give her some room if she wants it, casually removing the cigar and making sure to blow the smoke away from her like a sane and civilized person.]
Figured we'd run into each other sooner rather than later and rather it be on good terms and without some sort of situation. [Not that... he expects something to happen, but who knows with the Barge.]
Husk, if you didn't know. Knew Angel back home, too, if you needed any information on what to look out for. Though he's doing better here than he was there.
[A strange little creature, that, but he's used to weirder and just casually uses his free hand to hold out towards Scraps if they'd rather sniff that.]
Mm. Souls get wrapped up in contracts a lot down there and contracts don't mean shit here. So overall a better situation here, yeah. Probably also without all the knowledge of everyone knowing who he is here, too, so he can... choose what he wants to be seen as instead of it being foisted on him. [He's not terribly sure if it's much his place to be saying all of this, but if she read the whole file, it's all there anyway, he's sure.
Besides, it's not like he was ever quiet about that sort of thing, anyway.] Lot less hiding from the people that'd be pissed about what's going on with us, too, I'd guess.
[Scraps will very happily hold his hand with four of her eight tiny paws to give a thorough snuffing.]
This place was one hell of a respite for me, too. I've been an inmate twice. [She glances at him, with a self-deprecating bit of a smile.] And I chose to be a new person here, I get that.
I haven't read his file yet, planning to ask him about it first. Can I ask you some questions about Hell?
[Luckily he's totally chill about being snuffled, just be mindful of the claws~
He's quiet for a long moment while he watches her, a small hint of a smile playing on his own lips before turning back to take another long drag of the cigar. Give him a moment while he just holds onto that smoke before letting it go again to actually answer her.]
Seems to be what a lot of people do. And go ahead, though I hadn't been in Hell as long as he has.
[Aww, he wouldn't have had a problem with that. Ah well, he lowers his hand again, letting it stay on the rail and lightly dig his claws into it instead.]
Heaven and Hell are both real and somewhere where you can go when you die, yeah. ... And our world was, dunno, like anyone else's that had humans and shit like that. Normal, boring, nothin' much special about it. But none of us looked like this before we died.
[He'd almost been waiting for that question as he brings his tail up with a soft bit of a snort.] Not a single fucking choice. I sure the shit wouldn't have been a cat.
[Hey, at least he isn't naturally a cat or anything! Bonuses for... him? Who knows.] For some, sure, for others? Eh. I can understand where my patterns and shit on me came from, but no idea why the cat thing. Angel's is... a stupid pun, really. So there might be some.
Yeah, everyone became creatures in that one. My dad was a dragon. My brother was a ferret. I was a giant spider-woman. [She works her hand, rubbing the faint silver scars across her palm with her thumb.]
Back home, I was part of a criminal organization. I held territory, threatened politicians, tore up rival gangs. Basic mob shit. And I have the bug powers. So spider analogies are triple-on-the-nose.
Coulda been worse, I guess. But you never fuckin' know with this place. [Normally he'd ask about scars.... But for now, he'll leave that there unless she offers the information herself, it's not his place to push and prod, after all.]
Sounds more familiar than I'd rather say. Did much the same shit to a degree, though that was a long time ago and after I'd died. Ain't relevant anymore, at least. [Bug powers, huh.]
Wanna elaborate on that powers thing so I got an idea of what's goin' on? ... Mostly so I know if I need to avoid shit with him if it's gonna bother you.
[Taylor chuckles, looking aside. Despite the smile, this part is uncomfortable.]
Yeah, that’s- So, I control bugs, and their senses are mine. I can choose to control or not, but I can’t choose not to feel, see, hear… you see?
Now, I have a few million bugs on board. A few thousand are spiders. If I don’t have to think about him, I can lose Angel in that crowd. I did, until we got temped last month.
[... Ah, he can take a guess as to where this is going given the soft snort of amusement while he takes another long drag from that cigar.]
So what I'm guessing is that you want me to keep things behind closed doors? Despite how it appears, I am a classy man in that regard. [... Angel is not. But he at least knows how to wrangle the spider somewhere properly private if it involves himself at least.]
Ahahh, yeah, I can tell. I don’t want to know what you’re getting up to. Private cabins, please, and not his. I’m asking for a solution with the Admiral, but I haven’t heard back yet.
[She looks away down the deck - she can feel Angel going about his business a few levels down.]
He was- disturbingly okay hearing that I have the option to simply control him. I’ve got absolutely no intentions to, but that was weird. People usually get tense.
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Meet on the deck? Just finishing up in the Lounge and could use a bit of fresh air after.
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But he's probably able to get there quicker than her and is casually leaning against the railing of the deck with a cigar of all things held tightly between lips and teeth. Luckily coming from the Lounge means that he's dressed nicely compared to his usual hobo looking comfortable wear, wings hanging loosely at his sides and tail slowly swaying.]
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Taylor's still dressed for working, which today means jeans cut off at the knee and a blank gray hoodie that looks tailored, having been made with just one sleeve for her one arm. Scraps, the blue and yellow cross between a ferret and a centipede, is curled up in the hood, her chin resting on Taylor's good shoulder. She doesn't have to look around for him when she reaches the deck, coming straight to join him with a little wave.]
Hey, thanks for reaching out.
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Figured we'd run into each other sooner rather than later and rather it be on good terms and without some sort of situation. [Not that... he expects something to happen, but who knows with the Barge.]
Husk, if you didn't know. Knew Angel back home, too, if you needed any information on what to look out for. Though he's doing better here than he was there.
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That's good to know. Because it's a better situation here, or...?
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Mm. Souls get wrapped up in contracts a lot down there and contracts don't mean shit here. So overall a better situation here, yeah. Probably also without all the knowledge of everyone knowing who he is here, too, so he can... choose what he wants to be seen as instead of it being foisted on him. [He's not terribly sure if it's much his place to be saying all of this, but if she read the whole file, it's all there anyway, he's sure.
Besides, it's not like he was ever quiet about that sort of thing, anyway.] Lot less hiding from the people that'd be pissed about what's going on with us, too, I'd guess.
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This place was one hell of a respite for me, too. I've been an inmate twice. [She glances at him, with a self-deprecating bit of a smile.] And I chose to be a new person here, I get that.
I haven't read his file yet, planning to ask him about it first. Can I ask you some questions about Hell?
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He's quiet for a long moment while he watches her, a small hint of a smile playing on his own lips before turning back to take another long drag of the cigar. Give him a moment while he just holds onto that smoke before letting it go again to actually answer her.]
Seems to be what a lot of people do. And go ahead, though I hadn't been in Hell as long as he has.
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Right. So, actually a place you go to when you die? And what was your world like before that?
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Heaven and Hell are both real and somewhere where you can go when you die, yeah. ... And our world was, dunno, like anyone else's that had humans and shit like that. Normal, boring, nothin' much special about it. But none of us looked like this before we died.
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A flood did the same thing to me once. That's when I made the original silk for the nets.
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Well, shit. I knew this place did weird things to people, but that's a bit of a new one.
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Back home, I was part of a criminal organization. I held territory, threatened politicians, tore up rival gangs. Basic mob shit. And I have the bug powers. So spider analogies are triple-on-the-nose.
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Sounds more familiar than I'd rather say. Did much the same shit to a degree, though that was a long time ago and after I'd died. Ain't relevant anymore, at least. [Bug powers, huh.]
Wanna elaborate on that powers thing so I got an idea of what's goin' on? ... Mostly so I know if I need to avoid shit with him if it's gonna bother you.
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Yeah, that’s- So, I control bugs, and their senses are mine. I can choose to control or not, but I can’t choose not to feel, see, hear… you see?
Now, I have a few million bugs on board. A few thousand are spiders. If I don’t have to think about him, I can lose Angel in that crowd. I did, until we got temped last month.
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So what I'm guessing is that you want me to keep things behind closed doors? Despite how it appears, I am a classy man in that regard. [... Angel is not. But he at least knows how to wrangle the spider somewhere properly private if it involves himself at least.]
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[She looks away down the deck - she can feel Angel going about his business a few levels down.]
He was- disturbingly okay hearing that I have the option to simply control him. I’ve got absolutely no intentions to, but that was weird. People usually get tense.
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