A gay jaunt into the memories of how Sirca's favorite couple came to be, as transcribed by CrossroadsPony
Verse 1: Too Much Exposition
Samael cursed as another bullet ripped past him and tore into a nearby tree, sending splinters dancing across his raised arm. "Gawddamn, Nelson, you said this was gonna be quiet!" he hissed into the radio while dropping to his knees to slide under a low branch.
"Watch your tongue, Wurlitz, or I'll take it from you," the female's voice thundered through the speaker. "You volunteered, you knew what you were getting into!"
"I thought I'd be fightin' off a few squirrelies at most, not a whole gat-damn Blue base!" the rebel fired back before he quickly grabbed a thick vine with his free hand. With the momentum of his sprint, he swung himself upward, then snagged a higher branch and pulled himself into the tree. He just managed to catch the vine with the end of his tail so it didn't swing back down toward the soldier that huffed past a few seconds later.
Samael scowled and shoved the radio against his chest to muffle Nelson's growling response, waiting for another two soldiers to stomp through the underbrush below before pulling the communicator cautiously away and turning the volume as low as it would go. "A'right, a'right, I'm done bitchin'," he grunted in a whisper, eyes still skimming the jungle floor.
"If it were that easy," Nelson replied soberly. "We need to get off the air. Where are you?"
"Where do you think I am?!?" he grumbled. "'Bout ten feet off the ground in the middle'a Lactan, sweatin' my ass off tryna find a secret village full'a creatures ain't even s'posed to exist."
"Again, this was your choice," she retorted before smoothly cutting off his reply. "Keep heading toward Lake Krainen. Your backwoods childhood should give you an advantage finding the markers of their territory."
Samael huffed quietly as he tried to ignore the pang that stabbed gently into his heart. "You sound just like him."
For a few seconds, the radio was silent. Samael wondered if it was a line too far. But then Nelson's voice came through again, her rough, gravelly tone uncharacteristically gentle. "He visited these people a few times in his travels. You might be able to gain a bit of favor if you mention his name. Now go. And for fuck's sake, don't lose the radio again."
"I'll be sure to set up a nice li'l pedestal for it as I'm bleedin' out 'n dyin' so you c'n get it back," Samael answered cheekily before switching off the radio with another soft huff.
He could still hear the Blues scouring the jungle, but no others were audible from the direction of the base, hopefully leaving only the trio to contend with. Samael shrugged. He'd dealt with worse odds. With a grunt, he dropped back out of the tree and then glanced up at the sunlight struggling to trickle down past the trees. Even more fortunate: the heavy tromping was fading into a direction opposite of where he needed to go. He smiled to himself and then started a brisk jog on a rough bearing toward the lake. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Samael coughed wetly into his hand, already knowing it was blood he felt running down his wrist. "Ah, fuckin'...fuck," he panted, glancing over his shoulder as he struggled to keep his grip on the pistol that grew heavier with each passing second. He hadn't expected the soldier he'd knocked out to wake up so fast...or to have such good aim after Samael had taken such care to place a bullet just below the Blue's knee.
He could already hear Nelson's berating. He should have taken the shot. One dead soldier was a lot less of a hit to their numbers than a dead Samael.
...He kinda regretted the decision, himself, at this point. At least no one was following him anymore. Hopefully.
He quickly dropped his hand back against the wound in his side, wincing at the pain. The bullet had gone through, at least, but coughing up blood wasn't a great sign. In fact, nothing about the last thirty minutes even remotely resembled a great sign.
His paws began to drag as he closed his eyes and tried to shake off the growing stupor radiating out from his torso. When he opened his eyes again and dropped his shoulder against a tree for support...he saw a sign.
...No, he saw a great sign.
A tired grin parted his muzzle as he wiped at the trickle of blood running along his jaw. A few feet above eye-level, there it was. A simple but effective symbol neatly carved into the tree. Not quite like what his tribe used, but still obvious enough for him to instantly notice. "Awesome. At least I'll die near the damn job," he chuckled, immediately wincing again and coughing more blood into his fist. "Shit."
He continued to lean against the tree, using it as a guidepost for his eyes as he searched the dense jungle before him. And then he spotted it -- a formation of rocks through the damp tree trunks. It looked like there was a narrow gap between two of the larger boulders. The chupadore nodded to himself and then forced himself off the tree so he could start stumbling toward it. "I gotcha now," he mumbled, toe-claws furrowing the moist dirt beneath as his tail began to make its own shallow rut behind him, every part of his body seeming to droop as he mustered himself onward.
His senses were dulled, his head foggy. And it was then he realized the mental haze had been hiding the eyes he suddenly felt watching him. A few paces from the opening in the rocks, he glanced up sluggishly while making an extremely concerted effort to lift his pistol He heard...no. Was that the flap of...wings? And an instant later, something slammed into his back and sent him sprawling onto his chest with a pained grunt, his handgun skittering away from his fingers through the dead leaves.
He tasted detritus in his muzzle but before he could even lift his head, a sharp pressure pressed lightly into the back of his skull. He froze instantly and tried to change gears. He wasn't sure what he heard the stranger say -- it didn't sound like common, but then again...he'd lost a lot of blood. "Hol' up, hol' up, ain't Army," he managed as he covered his head defensively with both arms.
"Nuak!" Samael winced as he felt a second cool, metal object nudge his wrist before lifting it a bit. He thought he saw a flash of a furry snout and a black nose past his arm as his vision started to swim. "Ceeb uk xaj muhb..."
The first voice sighed and the weight on Samael's back was lifted as whatever held him down hopped off. "Tummak...vado. We vadt Andee. Muyro xo bdenj kxaj nxocf..."
Samael mumbled an incoherent sound of gratitude, since he assumed by the tones of the voices he wasn't going to be killed. Not yet, anyway. He felt claws lifting his arms and while his body was hefted up by two of the strange creatures, he finally lost the fight against the darkness as his head dropped limply against his chest.
The air smelled...damp.
It was almost familiar. Only natural caverns had that particular air. But it wasn't briny; he wasn't back at Sidewinder. It felt more like...home. Just a fuckload warmer.
Samael's eyes cracked open; there was no way in hell he could be back in Sampi. And when he realized he was behind a set of iron bars, he positively knew he hadn't been whisked back to his tribe's den. They weren't so big on the whole "jail" thing. He grimaced as he rolled onto his side, lifting his arm to look at his aching ribs and then blinking in surprise.
The wound had been cleaned and bandaged, complete with what appeared to be a hand-woven cloth wrapped snugly around his torso multiple times to hold the gauze in place. "Huh. Well this is a nice surprise," he murmured before glancing up when a soft clink of metal drew his attention.
It took him a moment to register what he saw. It was definitely not a chupadore. He blinked a few times and then rubbed at his eyes. No way...she wasn't fuckin' kiddin'...
The scowling creature before him was maybe four feet tall and it wore a rather elaborate outfit consisting of a pointed helm, wrist and shin guards, as well as a dull red half-poncho that covered its shoulders. It looked like it was some kind of guard, bolstered by the fact it clutched a gleaming pike in one hand. Except its 'hand' was more like...flexible claws. At the end of a wing.
"Holy shit, yer a bat!" Samael exclaimed, his eyes widening as he sat up with a grin that instantly shifted to a pained scowl as he gripped his side. "Aw fuck, that stings..." He grumbled and then glanced across the cell again at the silent creature. "Man, I thought y'all were just a myth. But yer like...like a real goddamn bat-person! That's awesome!"
The guard wrinkled its muzzle a bit before replying dryly: "Udt yei'ho, cabo, ud ataek-fohjed."
Samael blinked stupidly and then slowly raised a hand. The guard seemed confused for a moment, frowning and gripping the pike with both hands. But the chupadore just continued to keep his hand up, waving it a bit. When the bat finally tilted its head curiously, the rebel blurted out: "Do you speak common? Holy shit I have so many questions."
The bat rolled its eyes. "De," it answered mildly. "Yei jxeict hojk. Yei'ho cisby ke ro ucalo."
Samael laced his fingers together in his lap, crossing his paws while widening his eyes and doing a shockingly good impression of a begging puppy. "I don't speak 'bat', buddy, I got no idea what yer jabberin' about but gat-damn, yer cute as heck. Lookit those ears! All'a y'all this cute or I just get the pick'a the litter to keep an eye on me?"
The guard leaned back slightly before sighing and slowly rubbing at the bridge of its muzzle, muttering to itself: "Ev seihjo A thon kxo jxehk jkhun. Nxoho kxo xocc aj Andee..." He shifted on his talons for a moment, then peered at the still-wide-eyed chupadore warily. "Thadb kxaj. A nacc ro rusb ad u memodk..." The guard turned around and plucked a clay mug off a tray and began to push it through the bars to place it on the floor before he paused and sighed at the look on Samael's face. He jerked his head to the chupadore and cautiously stuck his webbed arm through with the offered mug. "Xoho. Thadb, thadb."
Samael's expression brightened and he carefully slid off the cot to approach, taking care to move slowly. No point turning the kindness of this guard into suspicion. "Aww, thanks, buddy...yer a perfect li'l berry."
The bat grumbled an acknowledgment, waiting for the chupadore to secure the mug in his grip before nodding once and stepping back to disappear down the hallway and around a corner.
Samael watched the strange creature waddle away, fascinated with every new glimpse of the unique anatomy before he whistled quietly under his breath and backpedaled to the cot. "Now why the hell you ain't never tell me 'bout them in all yer fancy tales of roamin' Sirca," he murmured. "We ain't had enough time, I s'pose..."
He looked down at the liquid in the mug as the pungent odor wafted across his muzzle. He made a slight face but sipped at it all the same. He wasn't surprised at the bitter taste -- his tribe's healers had a similar tea that was all-too-familiar for the pups that were more prone to getting into scuffles and the usual injuries that were a part of running around a frozen wasteland like idiots. The unpleasant flavor was soon overtaken by the warm sensation flowing through his chest and he closed his eyes to lean back and continue nursing the hot drink.
"Jxak, teoj ak ceeb cabo a walo u visb nxuk adb xo xut? Uchouty kect yu a uad'k opfoskad' de eikjatohj..." The new voice echoed down the rock walls, carrying a far more annoyed tone than the guard's had. Samael's eyes were still closed as he rested against the wall of the cell and he decided to remain that way as he simply listened.
"Youx, nocc, de edo ocjo houccy toucj nakx eikjatohj ekxoh kxud yei udt Juwo, je..." Samael could practically hear the shrug that accompanied the apt lilt in the guard's response.
The newcomer grumbled something inaudible under its breath before Samael heard what he guessed was a claw tapping against the door to the cell. "Efod ak if. Yei sud jkur xam av xo teoj udykxadw jkifat."
The guard sighed. "No zijk xoucot xam..."
There was the sound of keys scraping in a lock amid a bit more muttering before the distinct clack-clack of the bat's talons filled the inside of the cell. "Hey, ya runt! Wake your ass up, this ain't no day-spa!"
Samael felt something kick his shin and he stifled his grin, doing his best to remain still. "You kiddin' me? The fu--nxuk nuj ad kxuk kou?"
The newcomer groaned and Samael felt something else slap his leg. He finally opened his eyes just in time to see a bat glaring up at him from a foot or so away as it placed a black cap back onto its head. Samael's eyes flicked from the gleaming studs in its muzzle -- almost identical to his own, albeit it on its upper jaw -- to the rings in its nose and ear. The odd shoulder-covering garment this one wore was blue, and a loose, black leather collar hung around its neck, adorned with silver nubs. Samael also couldn't help but notice the tattoo on its thigh -- the same that adorned his own wrist, a stricken-out symbol of Omega. Ah. Guessin' why this'n's here to talk to me...
"Ey, 'bout time, douchebag. You wanna tell me what the hell you're doin' here?!?"
Oh yeah, that and also talkin' my language...
Samael failed miserably at stopping the grin that plastered itself across his muzzle. He was going to go out on a limb to guess this one was a male -- he assumed the same for the guard, but then again...what did he know about this species and their anatomy? There was something in the way his heart thudded cheerfully, however, that told him plenty. "Hot damn, y'all are all cute!"
The common-speaking bat made a face. "Nah, I don't think that was just tea," he muttered as he studied the chupadore apprehensively. "Guess Wash ain't the only scrawny asshole running around playin' rebel..."
Samael's eyes glowed delightedly as he listened to the callous bat, his shoulders shrinking together happily. "Heh -- so you know Wash, huh? Also...you speak common!"
"Gee, ya graduate with honors or somethin'? You sound like ya come from somewhere they give you gold stars just for gettin' more food in your trap then on the floor," the bat replied mildly before squinting as Samael continued beaming down at him. "The fuck you starin' at? Ain't you ever seen a bat before?"
"You're basically the second," Samael answered dreamily as he propped his chin up on a palm and rested his elbow on his knee. "Nelson ain't never said nothin' 'bout y'all bein' so damn easy on the eyes, though."
"Aw, you gotta be shitting me. She sends not just the fuckin' B-squad, but a virgin, too, now I gotta go through all the bullshit explanation of who we are, I didn't wanna deal with all this!" He glowered up at Samael, who simply smiled back cheerfully.
"Might be my first time seein' bats, but ain't much else untouched 'bout me," the rebel responded with a wink.
"Ah, save that schmooze for your dumb-ass big-footed friends, we don't run on dick-juice and adrenaline like you fuckers," the bat grumbled back as he put his claws on his hips and continued muttering for a few moments. "Anyway, ya still look like a damn midget compared to the usual guys -- and why the fuck didn't ya just pick up the package like I arranged?? Right near the entrance, ya weren't supposed t' waltz right in!"
"...Yei xat kxo fusbuwo douh kxo odkhudso?!?" the guard spluttered, making the more-casually-dressed bat glance over his shoulder.
"Ah, fajj evv. Ak nujd'k kxuk scejo!" he shot back. As the guard continued to half-yell in disbelief, the second bat turned back to Samael and then motioned to his side. "Nelson sent a broke midget on top'a that?"
"Hey, in my defense, this happened like...only a coupla hours ago," Samael replied before he grinned brightly. "My name's Samael, by the way!"
"Good for you, tundra tuft, you get a secondary degree with that fascinating piece of knowledge?" But when Samael only continued to gaze down at him, his cheerful features unfazed, the bat sighed and looked annoyed. "I'm Andee. And since you can't follow some friggin' simple directions, welcome to Xulod, I guess."
"As long as I ain't gotta pronounce that, we got us some smooth sailin'!" Samael exclaimed as he hopped down from the cot, only to immediately wheeze in pain and drop to one knee. "Sum'bitch, how do I keep forgettin'..."
It brought him down nearly to Andee's eye level, and he glanced up to see the bat fixing him with an exasperated expression. "If Nelson's gonna keep fuckin' me over like this, I'm gonna quit makin' business deals with you Honkal chumps," Andee complained, even as his sharp yellow eyes darted across Samael's body. "Time to find you a shirt, I get enough of that whenever I see that big dumb bastard York..."
"Holy shit, you really do know everyone!" Samael laughed, even while wincing at the soreness. He patted at his bandaged wound, then paused before holding up his tattooed wrist with another cheery smile. "Check it out! I got the same one!"
Andee rolled his eyes and then turned around with an idle wave of one wing. "Yeah, that's the only reason Lutane didn't just shank you outside. Might still let him, though -- you keep your bandaged ass in line, got it?"
"Oh yeah, for sure," Samael rambled as he pushed himself back to his paws and moved to follow Andee, only to pause awkwardly when the guard glowered up at him and moved the pike to cover the cell entrance. "Hey, uh...it's cool, we're all friends now, yeah?"
"Lutane nudkot ke bden nxy xo'j xoho," the guard noted crisply.
"Ah, kocc Lutane ke rcen ak eikku xaj ujj, a wek sijkety ev kxaj jkifat fiffy," Andee replied airily while gesturing lazily to the guard. "Hey, short-bus -- you wouldn't mind wearin' a collar, right? Gotta keep you on a short leash to make everyone happy."
The guard sighed and looked annoyed, but eventually shifted to one side and allowed Samael to pass. The chupadore beamed down at him and tapped a fist lightly against his chest in thanks before jogging after Andee. "If that's an invitation, by the way, I'm game," Samael teased. "Wouldn't be the weirdest shit I've put on."
"Yeah, I'm sure your second cousin loved puttin' you in the gimp suit every night back home," Andee deadpanned.
Samael chuckled easily as they left the small corridor of cells and entered a narrow hallway. "Y'know, my tribe lived in a big ol' cave too, ain't all that different from what y'all got here. How do I know y'all ain't the thin-blooded ones?"
"'Because we ain't stupid enough to live out in the middle'a the snowpocalypse!" Andee retorted.
The chupadore snickered before blinking and then snapping his fingers. "Oh shit, Nelson! Ah fuck, fuck...serious question, you know where they took my jacket? She's gonna kill me if I don't bring that radio back..."
Andee turned around with a smile. "Shit, why didn't ya say so?" He reached into his half-poncho and dug around for a moment. "You're just in luck, ya midget..."
Samael perked up even as he rolled his eyes. "Don't you find it jus' a li'l bit ironic callin' me short?"
"It's all relative, just like every one'a your girlfriends," Andee explained while muttering and peering under the cloth. "Where the hell did I..."
"I swear, I gotta hear these jokes every time I meet someone new. Is this just gonna be my whole life at this point?"
"Fuckin' probably, that's what ya get for bein' a redneck..." As Samael huffed, the bat's eyes lit up and he at last produced the radio. "Ha! Now ya owe me two favors, beefcake."
Samael's eyes widened excitedly as Andee tossed him the radio. He caught it with a whoop, practically dancing from paw to paw as the bat regarded him with an amused grin. "Oh, you don't know how much of my ass this is gonna save, Andee! I owe you dinner!"
"If it's all the same to you, I'll just take the cash now," the bat replied wryly.
Samael snickered and flicked his tail playfully in Andee's direction. "Too late, I'm takin' you...to..." His voice trailed off as he turned the radio over, his features slowly paling under his grey fur.
Andee offered a sugary grin. "What's wrong? All ya gotta do is bring it back, right?"
"Th...there's a gatdamn bullet in it!" Samael squawked in a strangled voice as he shoved the radio back in Andee's face. "Why didn't ya lead with that! Maybe tell me the damn thing's busted as fuck 'fore I get my ass all excited 'bout not gettin' chewed out for once...sonuva..."
As Samael whined to himself and poked at the still-embedded round, Andee shrugged easily and continued his toothy grin. "My bad, guess you shoulda been more specific. Now c'mon, jackass, shirt-finding-time." He gestured to the miserable chupadore, who was now attempting to pick up all the bits of circuitry that tinkled out of the broken device.
"But...I'm not even a bat, who's gonna have shirts for someone like me?" Samael mumbled as he stared down at the radio while imagining Nelson's voice screeching out of it.
"Don't worry about it, I know a guy!"
They left the dark hallway as it opened into a massive cavern abuzz with activity. Colorful lights were strung haphazardly across the multiple, surprisingly-tall structures as countless shops and stalls dotted the plaza, complete with vendors yelling out their deals atop one another to try and draw customers in from the crowd of bats milling about. It felt as lively as any outdoor market in one of the larger cities, only with much smaller, winged denizens.
...Samael was blind to it all as he pouted at the communicator. "Oh, you know a guy, huh? Well what 'bout this damn thing -- you don't understand, she'll stick me on radio duty permanently if I don't get this fixed!"
"Ah, shaddup, ya whiny bitch -- I know a guy for that, too!" Andee announced before turning around to kick Samael firmly in the shin again. "Would you put that thing away and look where you're goin'?"
"If I had a buck for every time I heard that," the chupadore mumbled before sighing and carefully tucking the device into a large pocket in his cargo pants. When he finally lifted his head, he at last saw what surrounded him, and he froze on the spot as his muzzle slowly opened. "O-oh...hooooly...shit..."
Andee smirked but couldn't help looking amused at the rebel's awestruck expression. "Toldja. You can't tell me you got shit like this back in your tiny-ass cave in Sampi."
Samael's muzzle hadn't yet closed. "We...we have like. Two and a half trading posts. An' they all sell the same shit. Fuckin'..." He forced himself to tear his gaze from the overwhelming scene around him so he could stare incredulously at Andee. "How the fuck ain't y'all been discovered?"
"You don't even got a clue, shortstack -- this is just one cave in our whole damn network." Andee snickered and led the chupadore past a small group of young bats that stared up at him with their own gawking expressions. "Like I already said, though. We got half a fuckin' brain and don't go runnin' around announcing our whereabouts and gettin' shot right in front of our secret entrances."
Samael puffed his cheeks out for a moment. "I ain't never gonna get to live that down, am I?"
"Not a chance," his guide replied bemusedly as they ducked into a shop where the colorful lights and constant din almost immediately grew muffled. Samael glanced around curiously, his eyes drifting between the various knick-knacks and paraphernalia that he realized after a few moments were almost all exclusively related to chupadores.
"I'll be damned," he mumbled as he wandered toward a rack displaying various bits of Red and Blue Army armor. "This is kinda weird. But kinda awesome."
Andee snorted, then slammed a fist on the countertop. "Hey, Wulok! Wok yeih cuqy ujj eik xoho!"
There was the sound of something clinking together in a backroom before an older bat with dark-green fur and a jaunty hat emerged, his eyes immediately lighting onto Samael. "Andee, mubadw meho vhaodtj, uk cujk?"
Andee peered back at the shopkeeper. "Sud kxuk yuf. A doot u jxahk veh kxo wettumd fiffy."
The shopkeeper glanced up at Samael for a few seconds before snickering. "Xo ceebj badtu jxehk. Nxoho'j kxo hojk ev xam?"
This was met with a laugh from Andee, and Samael huffed in response. "Oh come on, does no one else speak common here?!"
Andee opened his maw, but the shopkeeper piped up first: "Some of us speak basic. Not many surface-people to keep practice."
Andee grumbled, then rolled his eyes. "Great, now we get to hear every big-headed douchebag down here try out their toddler-level common on your goofy ass..."
Wulok crossed his arms and then grinned victoriously: "Andee, fucking off."
Samael guffawed and mirrored the broad grin as he nudged the scowling bat at his side. "Ha! Seems to me they know more'n enough for me!"
"Yeah, 'cause their good friend Andee knows the important shit to teach them!" He looked smug and then jabbed a claw toward the shopkeeper. "Hey, ass-clown -- get this jamook a shirt so I can stop havin' to stare at his gut, that fuckin' bullet-hole is right in line with my eyeballs..."
"Hey, I don't have a gut," the chupadore mumbled, poking his muscular stomach. "You know, most guys don't mind starin' at it too much! Especially from your level," Samael added with a grin.
Andee squinted up at him, then flicked a wing out to smack into the rebel's patched-up wound. Samael immediately doubled over with a squeal and it was Andee's turn to grin as the shopkeeper rolled his eyes and tossed a large black shirt toward the amused bat. "Jxehk eh dek, yei jxeict ro dasoh ke kxaj edo. Xo joomj ke uskiuccy cabo yei, idcabo kxo Freelancers."
"Feh, I'm not lookin' to make friends," Andee replied dismissively before he threw the shirt over Samael's head while the chupadore slowly straightened. "Put this on, furball. Don't wanna introduce ya to my connections lookin' like a rejected man-whore."
"You're lucky I'm so full'a self-esteem, otherwise I might start gettin' the feelin' you don't like me much." Samael winked as he struggled with the shirt -- lifting the arm on the same side as the injury hurt like a bitch. As it fell down over his broad form, he glanced down and then blinked when he realized the lower hem was almost past his thighs.
Andee's expression went from amused to outright gleeful as he laughed aloud and shoved a claw toward the chupadore. "That's better! Now ya at least look the part of 'lost puppy'! Ahahaha..." His delighted chuckling continued as Samael huffed and crossed his arms with a pout. Through his entertained snickers, Andee waved idly again. "Alright, follow me. Get your stupid radio looked at so ya got one less thing to be a bitch-baby about..."
He ambled back out of the shop and Samael mumbled before pausing to tip his head briefly toward Wulok. "Uh, thanks for the shirt..."
The shopkeeper smiled slightly and tapped his claws against his chest. "Good lucky."
"'Good lucky' is right," Samael said under his breath as he ducked back through the doorway to chase after Andee. He weaved through a small crowd to catch back up, and several eyes glanced over at the soft tinkling of his unique tail piercing. His modesty, ever lacking, allowed him to smile brightly at the attention rather than be embarrassed. The bubbly effervescence rapidly devolved Andee's schadenfreude back to annoyance as he glowered up at the bouncy chupadore. "You sure you didn't get pegged in the head, too, ya goofy fuck?" When Samael replied only with his easy grin, Andee snorted while his eyes drifted to the two-piece decoration in the rebel's tail.
It took a moment of what Samael guessed was internal debate before Andee at last asked grudgingly: "Where the hell you come up with that? Baby's first magic trick?"
Samael's eyes danced happily, glancing over his shoulder at the reddish material of his piercing. "Yer a real comedian! Naaah, after I got my tats burned in, I wanted somethin' that really made me stand out! Just puttin' 'RESIST' on my arm didn't feel all that unique."
"They shoulda let you spell it yourself, then it'd be one-of-a-kind," Andee mocked even as his gaze remained on the hoop-and-bar piercing for a few more seconds. "Ya didn't think it'd be stupid for someone who's supposed to be stealthy to sound like he's walkin' around with the spurs from Mommy's Special Closet??"
"If yer jealous, just say so, I'll understand," Samael replied playfully, this time just managing to dance out of the range of Andee's wing.
"Now I'm startin' t' think Nelson just sent you out here in the hopes you'd get your ass mowed down," Andee retorted before jerking a claw toward an alleyway. A narrow door was positioned near the entrance, its gloomy location combated by the cheery string of lights adorning the awning. "In here, before I change my mind and just let the angry bitch beat you for gettin' the fancy electronic shit all busted up."
Samael grinned but kept his muzzle shut this time, following Andee into the alley. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it took a little while to fix the radio...he still needed to heal, after all. And with a whole new culture to learn, well. Nelson would probably understand.
Cultural immersion was vital to their continued survival, after all...
Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.
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