[PRP] Another Brick in the Wall (Preacher & Chester)

[The Semblance of Unity]

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Sure, pack touch a Preacher had known it was gone, but this hadn't been what she meant she she'd thought about it during the casting. Preacher knew other moon-walkers liked it, treasured it, even - the crazy ********. She had never intended for it to pulled from them, twisted into this ******** half-life of a thing it was. Preacher had wanted it ******** gone from her life, but she didn't give a s**t if others had wanted to keep it. It made her ill. And this iteration did, too, on a different level. It was like if the monster in her closet had popped out, slapped some goddamn lipstick on, and asked 'hey am I pretty now?' Like, that s**t was significantly less scary, but still horrifying.

The meeting had passed, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. It made her see red. So, when Chester came home, he'd discover a dented crack in the wall clearly made from a kick. A piece of paper was taped above it that read ill fix it l8r. Currently, she was stomping around in the hallway (he version of pacing), trying to figure out what to do next.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

The note was admittedly difficult for Chester to miss, even when consumed by thoughts of his own future homelessness. When he failed to graduate and subsequently get a real job... ever... surely Alan would kick him out of this place, promises or not. Roommate or not. He supposed now was not the time for any of that, not when said roommate was devaluing the property and throwing a fit for reasons unknown. He heard the stomp stomp stomp above him right before he saw the dent itself, and the combination of all three—note, dent, and stomps—informed how he approached, carefully but without guilt. I'm here for you, but this couldn't have been my fault because I wasn't even here. That was how it worked, right?

He climbed the stairs slowly, crossing his arms and watching her from the end of the hall when he got there.

"Do you need anything?"

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

She glanced up at Chester, ready to snap. but, in some miraculous feat, she stopped herself. "A million ********' dollars n' for magic ta stop ********' up bein' a werething." Preacher sighed, then grimaced.

"Told ya 'bout pack touch, right?"

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

"Yes. You did." And he felt a little guilty about that too. With all of the other things on his mind during the recreation of the charter, properly getting rid of that particular side effect of werehood had slipped his mind. It wasn't like his magic alone would have countered it, considering most of the other moonwalkers seemed to enjoy it, but it would have been nice to try.

"I'm going to assume it changed." Out of all the things they had discussed following their group meetings with the top fetches, pack touch hadn't been dissected. It was probably because it made Preacher punch walls.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Preacher sat down in the hallway abruptly, crossing her legs. She sighed. "Y'know tha sayin' 'try n' please everyone n' please no one'? It got all ******** up. Tha people what liked it don' have it anymore but it's still ********' there. It's like..... goddamn diet pack touch." She looked at her hands, at the scars on them, turning then over and over until she folded them in her lap. Only then did she look up at him.

"It's still ********' in m'head N' I... before.. I don' think it's valid anymore, but I made a deal."

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

He was curious as to what 'diet pack touch' actually entailed, but right now it didn't matter much. This deal was more important.

"With whom? And for what?" He remained deliberately calm, crouching down to kneel beside her.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

When he knelt near her, she poked his knee in an effort to somehow convey that he was okay. "Yer gonna laugh," she said, vaguely feeling defeated. "I talked ta some kinda moose-thing... magic bullshit guy. In the woods." ********, this sounded so stupid said aloud.

"N' 'e said he was that leftover magic s**t from tha split o' weres n' wargs n' he could take m'pack touch away. So I agreed to his terms. Hadta bring 'im s**t."

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

It sounded weird more than humorous, but he realized quickly enough that that was Old Chester talking. Making a deal with a magical moose in the forest wasn't all that strange these days at all, not in a world where Gloom existed and a man on fire took over the body of his copy. He did laugh a little, but it was the sound of someone at a loss rather than someone making fun.

"You brought him offerings? That's... okay. Not the safest course of action, but since he didn't fulfill his end of the deal and he didn't hand back what you brought, maybe there's more to it now." The NPC wanted six diamonds instead of four. "What sorts of things did you bring?" He couldn't believe he was encouraging this, but leaving a bargain halfway struck seemed more dangerous than seeing it through at this point.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"Nah, he said it weren't enough, that I wasn't bringin' enough good stuff. N' that he'd still keep his bargain, but I had ta do better." That he knew she could do better. "But I dunno if tha bargain's still on 'cause he can't do still with tha new magic change!" Preacher took a few deep breaths.

"Brought 'im a robo, tea, Shiloh's ********' blood flowers, magic scales n' s**t. Pieces o' people's magic." She didn't look up at him. She knew how awful and self-serving this sounded - taking and taking from others to suit her own goals. It was a common theme in her life; Preacher was always gonna be number one to herself and she had to look out for herself because no one else would, even at the expense of others (and the law). But this was the first time she'd felt vaguely ashamed about it.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

"Oh. Well..." He thought that he should feel violated somehow, and he knew he would have had it been anyone else who had handed a piece of his magic over without his permission. But all he felt right now was that same simmering worry he experienced whenever Preacher might be doing something questionable. So, basically, every time she left the house.

"I suppose you should see if he can still help. And try to stop short of selling your soul." His tone was gentle, a suggestion, as if he knew he couldn't stop her from doing so if she so chose. He took the opportunity to watch her while she wasn't looking, but he didn't offer any physical comfort at first beyond taking an actual seat instead of just kneeling. He wasn't the one who had to decide if pack touch was worse than doing favors for an othercreature. He doubted that shoulder pats were really going to help in this situation.

Chester relented slightly a few seconds later, running his hand over the back of hers and squeezing once.

The Semblance of Unity