driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Bigby and anyone silly enough to be out in the mountains
Broadcast: No
Action: In the deep, wild parts of the planets where there is the promise of giant, fierce animals.
When: Any time after planetfall is made.

Normally, his skin doesn't chafe so much.

He knows it's because of the lack of options. There are places in the city he can shrug it off and be himself. He can always catch a cab and go out into the forests. He knows he can get out if he wants or needs to.

But here, he can't. The ship is literally not big enough for him, he would struggle to fit in the corridors, let alone his cell.

But this planet, this is like home. Not Fabletown, but the Homelands, his father's lands, where the winds cut to the bone and the snow is so thick that it reaches his belly as he walks through it.

He sets off on foot out of town, dressed in his usual slacks and shirt and tie with the concession of having rolled down his sleeves. It's cold, but it only has to last until he gets out of sight.

Because out of sight of the population, he strips and then he claws his way free, a nightmarishly huge form of black brown fur that quickly lopes off in search of prey. He's already communing with the wind spirits, trying to prove he's one of them, that they should help him.

You can try and catch him on his way out of town, before he shifts.

If you're game, you can find him out in the mountains. Maybe your hunt team makes the mistake of thinking that thing is prey.

((OOC: If you want to hunt Bigby, please message me to work it out, but he won't be aggressive to anything vaguely sentient. Anyone lost in the snow can be found by the giant mostly friendly wolf.

Action spam welcome, but I didn't want people trying to read a block of tiny text.

Spoiler pic for TWAU showing Bigby's wolf size and another one.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[How much hunt could a Hunter hunt if a Hunter could hunt hunt? Better question still is how Cayde's able to contain his excitement, after both being cooped up in the Hall of Guardians in the Tower and now on the Bloodsport? It was great enough being able to stretch his legs out in the wilderness again, but upon hearing about the hunting opportunities he was immediately drawn to it like a very enthusiastic moth to the biggest flame on the block.]

[So expert hunting party, which he ditched at the earliest convenience, and then struck out on his own. It was so unbelievable freeing to have a run of the wilds again, and even more so when he found tracks in the snow - giant tracks.]

Well, what do we have here?

[The tracks come and go. In fact, you could almost think that the animal has obscured many of the tracks by dragging something back and forth behind it as it walks, except when the drift was too deep to make it that simple.

In the distance, the wolf lifts his head and listens, asking the winds to bring him the scents. Familiar scents, nuanced like he just can't get with a human nose.

Then he goes back to ripping open the hide of the small animal he brought down. Small, barely the size of a moose.

It might be audible as he cracks the ribs with his teeth. He's not hiding.]

[Cayde follows the tracks as he can, perplexed by their come-and-go nature. He pauses to take a closer look at one of the more defined prints, wondering what made it, when he hears the snap on the wind.]

[He crouches low, letting his Bladedancer invisibility ability engage, and crept forward as quietly as he could.]

[If he were a sight based hunter, it might make a difference.

He keeps eating, completely unconcerned, one ear listening for Cayde's passage and deciding when he's close enough to make speaking worthwhile.]

[See Cayde doesn't know that. He's guessing some combination of scent, sight, and sound, so he's doing his best to keep upwind and be quiet, as well as out of sight, but with these blustery winds and the crunch of the snow, he knows it's only a matter of time before he's found.]

[So, the moment he sights the creature - a massive bastard, at that - he crouches down in the snow and stills, watching it silently.]

[He's happily crunching into the organs and meat, ripping them out and swallowing them near whole. It's not much for something his size.

His ears set back to neutrally forward and he speaks, without bothering to lift his head, look or really stop eating.]

Don't.

Even.

Think.

It.

Cayde.

[Cayde's stunned, first off that the creature talks, secondly that it sounds familiar, and lastly, well ... shock and curiosity turns to hurt. He stands up, the invisibility falling away with a spark of Arc energy.]

Aw man, how'd you know it was me?

Also, I knew there was something funny about you.

[His voice is very similar, that same easy, low rumble from deep in the chest.

One ears turns to listen to him, while he pulls off the creatures head and drops it to the side. Too many horns for a mouth his size, he'd just end up getting it jabbed into his gums and stuck.]

I could smell you from a mile off. You're very distinct.

[He shoves his muzzle into the snow and rubs with his paws to remove some of the blood and gore.]

[If this is supposed to be deterring Cayde, it's not working. He's seen plenty of death and destruction; a little simplistic animal-on-animal survival gore seems almost tame in comparison.]

Well, it's not like they make a P-H balanced antiperspirant for us Exo.

[Hard to say what the intent is. Bigby's face isn't very readable. Big Bad's even less so.]

Everyone smells. Every thing smells. Just a fact of existing. Never met anything else like you, never smelt anything else like you.

[He sits back on his haunches and looks down at the Hunter, reaching up to scratch the side of his snout with a paw.]

[Confident Bigby isn't going to eat him, and suddenly not really wanting to shoot him, Cayde steps fully into the clearing and looks over his shipmate.]

Guess that makes sense; ain't no one else around quite like me. [Flashing a shit-eating grin]

So .... we gunna talk about the fact that you're a giant wolf, or just let that remain the eight-hundred pound canine in the room?

[Cayde is very much not Bigby's usual fare. Eating metal is just a really bad idea.]

What is there to talk about?

[Don't ask how he can speak like that. He doesn't know. He just does.]

[Not that there are hard to explain things from his own world (glad he hasn't had to explain void energy to anyone yet), talking animals weren't exactly someone he's at all versed in.]

Well, how about the fact that you used to be a man, and now you're not? I think that's a pretty good place to start.

No. I used to be a wolf wearing the shape of a man.

This is me.

[He settles down again on his belly, putting his head much closer to actual people head height. His bright yellow eyes are still softly backlit, giving them an eerie, menacing glow.]

[Yeah hey Cayde's got glowy eyes too! And a glowy mouth!]

Ah, now ... that's something I hadn't considered. [A beat,] How is that even possible?

Well, when a mummy wolf and a daddy wolf get a certain biological itch...

[Yeah, he's still a 110% Bigby under all the fur.]

Want the head? People like head's for trophies and it's not going to be good eating for me.

[Cayde tilts his head at Bigby in an oh pu-leeze expression. He shrugs with the offer of the deer head, though.]

Sure, why not? I'll have to get it cleaned up before I take it on board, but it'd be nice to have a little decoration.

[Deer is a generous term for the thing Bigby killed and mostly ate. He's still working his way through it.

He nods at it, then leans his long neck and nudges it closer with his nose.]

Not like I'm going to use it.

All right, you want the actual story of how I ended up living as a human most of the time?

Yeah sure, and if you want I'll tell you what I can remember about mine.

[He's going to tug over the deer-thing's head and take a look at it. Having done his part collecting Ether from departed Fallen, slug screws from Cabal, and the like, inspecting a half-eaten animal is pretty normal stuff.]

Where I used to live, the Homelands, were invaded. I spent a few centuries hunting the invaders, terrorising them, helping their slaves and prisoners escape because it pissed of the Adversary. The invaders were no good to eat and kept scaring off my food.

I helped a lot of people escape to other, safer worlds. Didn't really care about them, but every person who escaped sent the Adversary into a bigger temper tantrum.

Eventually, I had to leave, the heat got too much and I went to the mundy world as well. Apparently the humans I helped were grateful and wanted me to come and live in their community. As their Sheriff. Since I was the only one they were all afraid of. But, to do that, I had to be a human. They had this knife, was meant to turn men into werewolves. Worked the other way as well.

And there you have the story.

[Sort of.]

[He nods along, listening. Some things certainly sound unfamiliar and he's got to suss out through context clues what things could be. Still, it sounds pretty familiar; what with the century long war and all.]

Wow. Sounds like you've been keeping busy. So, wait, are you saying they stabbed you human?

Close enough.

[He had a scar. His only scar, from where he let Snow bite into his flesh with the knife.]

Less stabbing. More cutting.

Sounds pleasant enough. [Yeah definitely sarcasm. Still, the things you do to fit in.]

Guess I owe you an Origin story, eh?

Pff. Cut a knife is nothing.

[He was hacked open with an axe and filled with stones once. THAT was unpleasant.]

If you want.

Yeah, I been pierced by worse. Hell, you get a four-armed Fallen Captain weilding two swords it's a real fun time real fast.

[He leans back and rubs his chin thoughtfully.]

It's not a matter of wanting, I certainly don't mind. The tricky part is remembering. I mean, like you I likely got a few centuries on me; the problem is, for each Wipe I got, a whole lotta that history disappeared. All that remains is my most recent shenanigans and a jumble of hyper-vivid memories with no chronological sense.

They're fact as fact is, just ... where they go and what they actually mean is left a little up to interpretation.