NEPTUNE BLUE — p

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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 325px;][justify][size=9pt]It was just about time to hit the road - for Dean, at least. He made his way into WindClan's camp, both a coke and a mouse clutched between his jaws. A trade, of sorts - a little gift to WindClan for their hospitality and.. whatever. He just didn't like owing people, so he thought that this - alongside a handful or two of extra herbs added to the medicine den he'd left - would be enough to show his gratitude. He dropped his kills upon the pile before giving a contented breath and taking a seat, his dark gaze flickering from person to person. He would take off in an hour or so - hopefully Sammy would be in RiverClan, like he'd been told.
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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=1; width:400px; overflow:auto; text-align:justify; font-family:constantina][size=11pt]Locksmith arrived just in time to throw his own contribution to the fresh kill pile up there. The moment Dean's mouse hit the pile of flesh, the head of an alpaca's corpse dropped on top of it, covering it like it wasn't even there. Sitting back on his haunches, Locksmith lifted up his claws to pick out a piece of fluff from the vents in his visor. Slowly, his head tilted over and down as he looked at the domestic he was towering over. "Ah, yuh da' one dat was fighting Weef. Yuh not develop a twitch, nuh?" He remembered several of his friend's previous opponents in his Homeland would get permanent nerve damage from the encounters. He thought it was funny at the time. Lock pulled back the piece of fluff and stared at it for a few seconds. A drop or two of blood was soaked into it, but it was too fresh looking to be the already cold alpaca's.


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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 325px;][justify][size=9pt]"..Huh." Dean eyed the alpaca carcass with a slight pout, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Well, that made his kill look like crap. He turned around to see who had shown him up - only to find himself craning his neck to meet eyes with the brute. He frowned, glancing to the side and then back at Locksmith, shouldering the bag he wore slung across his chest. Then the guy started talking - he was a little hard to understand, but Dean thought he got the gist of it. Maybe. "Who, the Thor wannabe?" he questioned with a grin. "Yeah, I fought him. Gotta say, pretty tough opponent, and that's a lot coming from me. But nah, no twitch yet. That'd be a good story to tell, yeah?" He sat down, eyeing Lock up and down with his usual air of smugness. "So who're you, huh? Another, uh.. Fu dog?"
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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=1; width:400px; overflow:auto; text-align:justify; font-family:constantina][size=11pt]"Yuh. Him." A good story was surviving when it came to either of the brutes, but Lock wasn't interested in stroking Wraith's ego even when he wasn't around. He also didn't like being sized up like the little creature was doing, especially since his injuries even though he was doing a good job of hiding them so far. Not to mention that cocky look. "Nuh. Mon'guhse." Mongoose. One big ass fluffy mongoose. His species actually had a real name, ichneumon (Could he even pronounce that right? Probably not.), but he had never seen another one of him so he just called himself what he was as plainly as he could. "Bred ta' kill dragon." Either by ripping open their throats or eating them alive form the inside out though it was a pain to get all of that blood out of so much fur.
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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 325px;][justify][size=9pt]At first Dean offered Locksmith nothing but a blank stare at the mention of what he assumed to be the guy's species. He blinked. "Gezundheit," he offered, half as one of his usual jokes and half to show that he was confused. The young feline, however, managed to catch that second part. He grinned and gave an incredulous chuckle. "Dragons, huh? Hey, a fight between you and a dragon sounds like a fight I'd bet on while drunk. How do you do that, anyway? Fluff them to death?" He sat down, angling his ears back. Locksmith obviously wasn't some normal creature - something mythological, probably, especially if he was meant to fight dragons. Maybe he came from the same lore as his compadre. He sucked in a breath, tilting his head innocently. "Oh, I meant to ask - what's with the dome, huh? You, uh, you an alien dragon fighter?"
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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=1; width:400px; overflow:auto; text-align:justify; font-family:constantina][size=11pt]Locksmith had no clue what any German meant, even that commonly known word and so it was lost on him that Dean didn't understand. Oddly enough, if he had realized it, he might have repeated it more clearly- so used to people not understanding him that he had developed a special sliver of patience just for that. He did have a sort of sense of humor too and the comment about "fluffing them to death," made the brute laugh in his booming voice. He raised up a paw and tried to give Dean a slap on the back. Even with his strength zapped and trying to be gentle, it would probably punt the poor guy into the dirt. "I take dey guts o' dey throat." Locksmith and Wraithstatic did hail from the same land, but Lock had lived in a different place before that and they both were in Windclan now as exiles.


    Then his mood changed at the mention of his helmet and he crossed his bulky arms defensively. "Nun' ya' bizz. Yuh know what a helmet is fa', nuh?"


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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 325px;][justify][size=9pt]"Hng-" Dean was, in fact, thrown forward - he ended up stumbling from the force of the nudge and almost face-planting, but luckily he managed to maintain some of his dignity and stay on his paws. He sat up straight once more with an airy chuckle. "Yeah, yeah, I'm hilarious," He wheezed, still trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him.


    The tom brushed off his shoulders with a breath, eyeing Locksmith. Guys or throat, huh? "Sounds like a, uh, fool-hardy plan," he told the other with a nod and his signature charming smile. Said smile disappeared, however, as Locksmith seemed to grow cold. So the head piece was a soft spot for him, hm? "Yeah, I know what a helmet is for, but why? I've never seen you take the thing off. What, do you have a regrettable tattoo under there or somethin'? Because I'd totally understand."
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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=1; width:400px; overflow:auto; text-align:justify; font-family:constantina][size=11pt]Locksmith couldn't help but start to doubt Dean's motives now. Why did he care so much? Lock had just said it was his business, didn't he? The ichneumon shifted in place, nails tapping against the ground audibly. "Yuh hard a' hearing, bwoi? Mind yuh bizz, Dean Win'chasta," he warned him steadily. A small, barely visible trail of blood had leaked from the bottom of his helmet and into his fur. "I gotta face under 'ere, just like everyone else. No tattoos." Wait a second. That was sort of... "Weit... Why wulda get a tattoo on fur?" Now his mind was far off and he tapped at the chin guard on his helmet, entirely distracted in a snap. Normally he wouldn't get distracted so easily, he wasn't a toddler, but his blood loss was getting to him a little and- it honestly was a fascinating question.


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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 325px;][justify][size=9pt]The blood may have gone unnoticed with anyone besides Dean sitting there speaking to Locksmith, but he was trained to observe and conclude. He was an investigator, and this was no different than any other case. His hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of the crimson droplet, and he cleared his throat. "My hearing's just fine, pal. You're awfully defensive about this helmet, aren't you? And that blood - what's the deal with that? You get a little too excited?" The situation was growing tense, and he was growing suspicious - of course, the atmosphere was all but broken at Locksmith's puzzled question. Dean narrowed his eyes before he scowled. "I don't know, it was just a - come on, we were having a moment!" he exclaimed with a shake of his forepaw.
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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=1; width:400px; overflow:auto; text-align:justify; font-family:constantina][size=11pt]Locksmith angled his armored head down after a few more moments of deliberation, movements sharp and claws curling. He raised one paw and ripped out a few strands of fur so he could lift them up and observe the blood coated on them. Hm.


    And seemingly out of the blue, a sinister aura came about the beast. If it has been soley Dean's prodding, the reaction would have been explosive, but this seemed to come from the ichneumon himself. A morbid curiosity about just how truly messed up it was. Wraith had seen, but Wraith was Lock's friend. Even though he lacked tact, a friend would be softer than a nosy stranger who had little to lose. Well, then again, maybe his life. Locksmith didn't move a muscle, apparently staring Dean down in observation.


    Suddenly, he aimed to grab the domestic by the throat and snatch him up into the air. His grip wouldn't be kind, nails digging into his flesh and firm grip squeezing his windpipe just enough to make the feline gasp for the little bit of air allowed.


    "What is dey phrase? Curiosity killed da' cat. Yuh reh-lly dat curious, mon?"


    *mobile


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    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 325px;][justify][size=9pt]Dean realized that maybe he had prodded too much. That was the problem - there was no one around to stop him from going too far. His father was gone. Sam was... somewhere, but he doubted the kid wanted anything to do with his older brother. That left him alone, with no one to counter his faults.


    And he had a hell of a lot of faults to be countered.


    The neck grab had been unexpected. One moment he was sitting there, staring up at Locksmith in an attempt to somehow intimidate the much larger animal. The next he was being yanked upward so hard that Stars danced across his vision. He gave a pained grunt, hazel eyes widening, limbs flailing - but it was no use. He gasped for air like a fish out of water, his gaze still following the strange creature. At his words, he tied for an innocent smile. "..but satisfaction.. brought it back..?" He wheezed - on his death bed and still making jokes.
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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=1; width:400px; overflow:auto; text-align:justify; font-family:constantina][size=11pt]"Yuh funny little mon. I give yuh dat," the beast rumbled calmly and kept his grip on the much smaller male. Fuck it. His free paw went up to slowly lift up his helmet just enough so that one side of his face was visible (and only the bottom half of it at that). Too bad it wasn't the good side.


    Blood oozed down from torn flesh where stitches had come loose and peeled back on the rotting skin. Bone was jutting out along with dried up veins and back teeth visible because there were no lips to hide them. In fact, the entire top part of his muzzle was gone. No nose, no snout-- just a jagged socket where it once was, a tongue slathered in his own blood, and a bottom jaw. Pooled up blood that had been trapped by his helmet eased down from the mutilated hole in his face that could barely be called a mouth anymore. "Yuh see... I wish I cuud laugh at dis." His throat barely moved throughout his speaking since he was using sound manipulation to be able to speak at all. He would have to go see Wraith to get his face fixed again after this...


    Then, after Lock made sure to sink his nails in just a little more to the point that some blood washed down Dean's chest, the ichneumon dropped the cat unceremoniously before tugging his helmet back down. "Curiosity spares dee cat dis day. 'Ow yuh gonna repay curiosity for dis kindness, eh?"
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