I pray to god I don't have to pay for not knowing [ private ]

[adomania]

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// [member=1479]GABRIEL[/member] I gotchu bb + I'll respond to your last post through this one lmfao just to keep things clean for myself

He knew on a personal basis how frustrating it was to have someone take care of you when it was sometimes the last thing you wanted. Des was a hypocrite that way - he often preferred to be left alone to lick his wounds in peace rather than allow someone to mend them for it, and the pity and worry he often received were ill-seen in every meaning of the word. It was less pride than it was the idea that he didn't see himself as someone worthy of the attention, finding it much easier to deal with aggression and sarcasm being thrown his way than genuine care.

The former he could always beat someone up for. The latter meant he had a choice to become soft, and it wasn't one he was willing to take.

Still, he tried his best to take care of others despite that, and Gabriel wasn't any different despite his obvious exasperation. Another well-known trait of Des' was his stubbornness, and it was, perhaps to Gabriel's misfortune, impossible to get him off track once he set his mind to something. Right now? That something was making sure that, despite their friendly banter and empty threats, Gabriel would get better.

At least he managed to get the guy to smile. He couldn't tell what half of his problems were (and wasn't too interested in prying into something that wasn't his business to begin with) but at least he could pride himself on his ability to get something akin to happiness into people's lives to get their minds off of some of the pain, if only for a short while. It was a gift of his, but it was sadly short lived. He was no therapist, and the humor was a dual-edged blade that cut into his own flesh more than once. Repression was one hell of a drug, wasn't it? Better than any alcohol and cigarette he had at his disposal.

Des didn't respond to Gabe's first statement about his name, knowing very well that if he tried hard enough then he would most definitely find out. It wasn't exactly a secret, and with enough pestering he could even be tempted to drop his sudden game of 'hard to get' and spit it out. However he did pause in his footsteps at Gabe's consecutive comments, and a soft chuckle rumbled throughout his chest before he decided to reply.

"Now, that's just rude," he managed to tease out, then continued to walk as he heard the hybrid's foosteps fall into rhythm behind him. "A man's just tryin' to keep you entertained to make sure that you don't pass out and this is the thanks he gets."

A brief moment of silence passed, a sudden heaviness weighing between them before it was interrupted with another low 'follow me' leaving Des' maw. There was no point in delaying any longer, and the crowd that had amassed would dissipate eventually like it always did anyways. He was still dead set on his goal, and it seemed like Gabriel had enough sense to care about his well being to go along with it.

It took only about a minute to get to the small hut he called his home, and he briefly glanced back to make sure that Gabe was still behind him and, if he was, that he wasn't about to stab him in the back. The former proved to be true and the latter seemed unlikely, so with what he hoped was his best light grin, Des turned back around and pushed through the door, holding it open for the man to enter as well.

"Make yourself at home, there's not much in here that I could care about save for that alcohol I mentioned, and if you want to give it a shot then just let me know. It'll probably dull some of the pain once I get to work," the offer was likewise genuine despite the fact that it did hurt to let go of the very thing that often helped him get through the day, but he didn't make that known, hiding it behind another easy smile. "Until the effects start up, though, I might have to torture you with more conversation. I'm guessing you can clean yourself up, though?" there were limits to what he was willing to do and what others probably felt with him doing, and if Gabe felt alright enough to walk he doubted that he'd need assistance in cleaning whatever minor cuts he had in order to reduce the chances of infection. Setting bones back to place and wrapping yourself up was a different matter, but he had enough respect to not think of him as a blundering idiot.

He liked giving people the benefit of the doubt, then getting disappointed when they proved to be exactly the idiot he thought they couldn't possibly be.

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]//thank you for making!!! lmfao yes this works

Part of his distaste revolving around someone tutting over him was just the attention. However snide he could be, and how he was never one to decline a good series of banter, standing center stage was never a preference or a desire. Maybe other people wanted to steal everyone's gazes, but Gabriel worked better out of sight and out of mind, standing off to the sidelines where it was much less agitating and he could glare freely. Maybe that was the street-rat in him. Drawing attention when you were in the middle of stealing someone's dinner to feed your sisters wasn't precisely bright, and once he kickstarted his mini-career, those childhood skills became cemented as people relied on him for doing what only the unseen could.

Of course, that was a bit more difficult now that he was a walking freakshow, but he'd left that life behind him anyhow. He just had a feeling it was creeping up to bite him in the ass, although- it couldn't be much of a feeling after a former subordinate told him about someone cutting loose threads. That, however, could wait for when he wasn't fresh from an ass-kicking, which meant he'd have to abide Des' sociability and focus. There was something more to the former that he couldn't put a finger on just yet, but maybe with more time, he could figure out what he was doing, being so gregarious. He wasn't kissing ass, at least, otherwise he wouldn't be giving Gabe as much shit.

Not that he minded. It was an appreciated distraction. "If I end up passing out, I give you full permission to slap me until I wake up." Gabriel couldn't remember a time when pain had driven him unconscious. Adrenaline had usually kept him wide-eyed, considering the cirumstances he'd find himself in when he took one too many hits. He was still kicking, though, which was more than he could say for most of the people who'd placed themselves between him and his destination, something he couldn't call a point of pride as much as a testament of his own tunnel-vision. Everything would be so much simpler if it weren't for bright-eyed people going for the wrong causes.

Gabriel was left to stew in those thoughts for a short while, silence reigning between the pair as Des led him to the shack. Thankfully, it wasn't too much time, not nearly enough for him to fall into any kind of fugue, and then the horned wolf was talking again as he held the door open. The hybrid huffed exasperatedly as he walked past him, into the hut, head turning around while he stood in place. The one good thing about his owl structure was how much ground his gaze could cover when his head could just about twist all the way around. Pretty useful for creeping people out, too, though he wouldn't try it with Des; he doubted it'd do more than make himself look like an idiot. "Pain's not an issue, but I won't say no to alcohol." His obsidian stare returned to Des, expression an empty slate for a moment.

"Dunno if I should be amused or wounded that you think a bit of conversation's my weakness." He snorted, rolling his shoulders and ignoring the tug in his ribs. "Yeah, I got the small stuff handled, just tell me you've got disinfectant that's not alcoholic."

[align=right][i]——INFO

[adomania]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]// dwaudwi I already love them, heck

That was a thing they had in common, then - avoiding the spotlight. It was made for people who knew how to use it, the extroverts that basked in the attention both positive and negative and knew how to deal with both. There was an art to it that Des had never bothered to perfect, knowing very well that he wasn't built for it. It never paid off, and even when he had taken to leading the group of his way back when, it was with heavy shoulders. He was good at talking, though, and at entertaining, and maybe that was why so many people thought he was far more social than he actually was. It'd probably come as a surprise to all just how much he hated attention, for at first glance he drew it all to himself with his incessant talking and jokes.

But more than he hated attention, he hated seeing others in pain, whether it be emotional and physical. He knew he was good at distracting people from their thoughts, and he put that skill to work whenever applicable, no matter the pain it caused him. The easy smile never dropped, though. No, that was one thing he had perfected. Fake it till you make it, and all that crap, right? Maybe if he talked long enough he'd talk himself into the happiness he tried to spread.

And, as proved by Gabe's reaction, the distraction often was worthwhile.

As the hybrid took the cozy space in (big enough to fit them both but homey enough to not echo), Des got to work shuffling around his supplies, digging through all kinds of potions, bandages, medicines and herbs to get what he figured would be best needed to this situation. A soft chuckle left his maw at his statement that the pain wouldn't be an issue (he had a pretty high pain tolerance but even he screamed when setting bones back) but didn't comment on it, instead briefly stopping his digging to step over to a locked box right next to everything else. "Hope you're sure about that," he murmured, before picking the lock open and lifting the top to expose the components.

It was a fairly big collection, with different kinds of bottles all lined up neatly, ready for the taking. Despite being full and giving the impression of being untouched, it wasn't because Des never drank. Rather, he drank profusely enough to have a need for brand new bottles, occasionally supplied to him by the tavern that Junji had mentioned to Gabriel already. He didn't like the company, though, going back to the whole 'introvert' thing, so the stash was useful when he wanted to be alone and drown his sorrows. Whether or not Gabriel picked up on that, however, depended on how smart he was and how long he spent around the canine.

"'Ve got pretty much... anything. Everything. Name something you like and I recon I'll find it in here," he pointed towards the box, allowing Gabe to search through it as he saw fit, and returned to the more pressing matters by finally readying everything he needed, along with the disinfectant Gabe had just pointed out along with a comment that made him laugh once more.

"If I recall correctly, you were the one who said, and I quote, 'If I decide to die, it's because of our conversation.' Your words, old man, not mine," he analyzed the bottle in his hands, then put it down with a sharp, mischievous grin pointed Gabriel's way. What would be the fun in just giving it to him, when he was setting himself up so easily for more of the banter Des was so good at? "Nope, just the alcohol I'm afraid. You're gonna smell like vodka by the end of this, sorry, though there's worse things to smell like." A brief moment of silence passed between them, then with another low chuckle he passed the disinfectant over lest the man take him up on that challenge and waste a perfectly good bottle of Vodka. "Here."

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]//lmfao they're terrible but in the best way
+  thought i lost my post and almost had a heart attack

There was a very prominent difference between thriving and surviving, yes, especially with the limelight. If Gabe was tossed into it, he could keep his head above water for the sake of it, but repeatedly, and with the expectation of greater success each time would highlight what separated scraping by from fucking owning that stage. Did he wish he could do the latter? No, not really- but seeing people who could work a crowd always garnered a bit of respect from him, probably something similar to the respect had for someone who could leave bloodied, piranha-infested waters without a scratch. That was impressive. As for himself, and others like him, they had strengths elsewhere. Personally, he found it a lot more satisfying to lurk than to strut, if only for the reaction. Or he had. He'd gone soft since then, soft and exhausted.

How one could maintain a cheerful demeanor while crumbling was not under his purview. Gabe had failed at being grumpy and dying on the inside, considering the measures he wound up taking by turning himself in to the eggheads, hoping they'd fix him. One last act of optimism, he supposed, before it all died when he woke up far from fixed. He accepted those consequences, though; he'd made the decision, and the blame was his own. It just might've been nice if he could have managed at least a somewhat sunnier disposition, so that he wasn't widely known as a complete bastard, but it didn't matter. His reputation didn't exactly extend to these groups, thankfully.

Otherwise, people would probably believe Des some kind of miracle-worker, and that wasn't something Gabe wanted going to his head.

With all the shit he was rummaging through and pulling out, maybe he really did have more shit up his sleeves. That bit wasn't surprising, but the supplies were, if only because Gabriel had pegged him for someone more familiar with breaking bones than mending them. Everyone had their secrets, though, and Gabe would have to work a bit more to worm them out. A lot more, and he wasn't about to waste the time he had now to, at the very least, get a feel for the place Des settled in. He wasn't lying about treasuring the booze, considering it was in a locked box, as opposed to everything else inside, and the hybrid trailed over to stand beside him.

They were all relatively full. They didn't look as though they were untouched from disuse, though, so Gabe wondered if he'd recently replenished his supplies. "Diverse tastes, huh?" Or maybe he just wasn't picky and chose whatever was available; on the other hand, he could simply have broad interests in alcohol. Gabe wasn't much of a connoisseur when it came to drinks. It would be nice to have a choice, though, so when Des moved away to give him full access, he perused a bit. Surprisingly, he found a bottle of mezcal- nice. "If you're not careful, you might come back to an empty box one day." He couldn't quite grab it with his beak, so he juggled it between his two sets of talons, managing to set it down without breaking anything.

His beak did away with the cork fairly easily, luckily, before glancing over at Des, who was already sending a smirk his way to match his comment. "Haven't died yet, have I? Unless this is hell, in which case, I wasn't expecting alcohol." He wandered back over, gently nudging the bottle along with him, and the stare he gave Des for his tom-fuckery was nothing short of unimpressed.

"Very funny, pendejo." He took the bottle and lowered it carefully, before stepping over to the collection of first-aid, where he took a few bits of cloth before returning to his original spot. "You're not gonna sit there and watch, are you?" That was all Gabe said before he dipped the bits of cloth into the disinfectant, using his beak to dab at various scrapes on his forelegs and chest. The rest of him was mostly bruised, but it was the spots where Lazarus manhandled him that had broken skin. Part of his back had some scratches, so he had to twist his head around for those, and he couldn't feel anything else that would need attention.

"Didn't expect you to actually have much in here."

[align=right][i]——INFO

[adomania]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]// omfg I’m glad it didn’t that’s the worse thing to happen to anyone who writes,, this is why I write exclusively in google docs


There was a time where Des had been far different than he was now. The cheer was, in all honesty, a rather new addition to his life that he was only now getting used to giving. There was a big difference in being a grumpy bastard and being numb, however. Perhaps he did not know of Gabriel’s past, but he knew of his own, and compared to most people he knew… his often seemed far worse. He had been cold, once, mercilessly so in a way that made every passing second torture. It wasn’t a wrong assumption on Gabriel’s part, then, that he seemed far more used to breaking bones than mending them. He was. But he was trying to make as big of a come around as he could. That part was a secret as well, though. As far as everyone was concerned, he had always been like this, and the scars that marred his body… well, most of the time they weren’t discussed to begin with. Others could only speculate why he had them.

He had killed many under the spell of emptiness, trying to get himself to feel anything other than the anger. He had succeeded, although it had worked against him in the end. What he was expecting was power, maybe some sort of great epiphany that would free him from his fate; all he got was trauma and guilt, and the newly blossomed need to right whatever wrongs he could.

So even if he did now of Gabe’s reputation, he doubted that claims of him being a miracle worker would do much to his head. He didn’t believe himself to be special, and perhaps that was the one thing he sorely needed.

A short bark of a laugh left his maw at Gabriel’s observation, though he didn’t respond with anything more than an indifferent shrug. It was both - diverse tastes and grabbing anything that happened to fall underneath his paws. ”If I do, then I’ll know who did it, and then your head’s on the line,” he mused, although the threat had little bite to it. He’d be sorely disappointed, but not enough to do much more than give Gabriel the silent treatment for the next day or so.

”Nah, guess you haven’t, though I have to wonder if that’s telling of your resilience or the fact that my talking game is getting weak,” after Gabriel picked the bottle and managed to uncork it easily (he never thought that the beak would come useful, and yet here he was being proven wrong) Des didn’t waste any time returning to his supplies, opening yet another cabinet to fish out two glasses and place them down, beckoning for him to help himself.

”Hey, Vodka works just fine,” Des responded at Gabriel’s stare, which earned him another rumble in Des’ throat. ”I know from experience, as I know not to be picky,” sometimes you didn’t have things like these on hand, a problem he had lived with a majority of his life. Thankfully, a bottle of alcohol was almost always somewhere in his hand, and it made for one hell of a disinfectant. Made you smell like a drunkard, but it got the job done.

”Well, unless you want me to get all up in your business as you wash down, I think I’m good,” he hummed, but didn’t make do on his promise and turned away to give the man as much privacy as he could while pawing through the supplies once more, mentally going through a checklist and the steps needed to get the wing… on the path to better. He didn’t expect for Gabriel to say anything more unless it was a statement that he was done, so the next comment visibly caught the canine off-guard, his movements tensing up.

He doubted that the statement was meant to hit a nerve, as their conversation had yet to take a darker turn and was quite pleasant among others he’d had in his lifetime. But it did, and his smile briefly resembled a grimace, lasting scarcely a second and easy to miss if Gabriel wasn’t looking. Des hoped he wasn’t. With a steadying breath, he turned around, the grin easy on his maw and deflecting any kind of questions preemptively, and he walked over to where the hybrid was, ready to get to work.

”Yeah, well… I like having things on hand so I don’t gotta go fetch them from other people at the most inconvenient of times,” it was part of the truth, but the biggest reason was left out of the grand picture. There were things he wasn’t comfortable with sharing, and the small hoarding problem he had picked up between his time alone and now was one of them. Once upon a time he had nothing, wandering around with nothing but whatever he could fit on his back… now that he could have his own things, he was keen on making use of that to the fullest extent.

”Alright, you ready? It’s probably going to hurt like a bitch, I won’t lie to you.”

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]//see i used to do that but my computer is a shit lmfao
also this is probably awful because i should be sleeping instead of writing but when the muse arrives you cant deny it

Personally, Gabe couldn't attest to how much he'd changed, not fully. It wasn't such a noticeable transformation as from brittle to warm -whether or not the latter was forced- because he had never found himself consumed by a vacuum of emotion. Or emotionlessness. It had been the chipping of a stone, or so it felt, because he could remember himself before it all began as full of aspirations, not quite naive but hardly embittered by everything he'd seen. He hadn't gone on a desperate quest to feel anything he could put his hands on, and thus didn't suffer from the intense guilt that coincided with it, but the knowledge that someone always had it worse didn't prevent those nights when he woke up, heart rabbiting in his chest, images of broken bodies he could have saved and failed blazing a canyon in his mind. That steady erosion drove him to take drastic measures that weren't even worth it, but he supposed it was a blessing that he couldn't remember any of that.

Or a curse. He couldn't know yet.

The same way he couldn't know for certain if the friendliness was genuine, or feigned, or even some elaborate combination of the two. For now, it wasn't as though Des could use it against him -not for the time being- so he wouldn't give chase to the trail at the moment, because he wouldn't deny how it eased long-built tension in his shoulders to simply talk with no expectations. Lazarus wasn't much of a conversationalist unless he was giving shit, and Gabe had no qualms with it, but he hadn't spoken much with anyone else on a person-to-person basis. Usually it was in a group, with Moon making smartass comments- or attempting to. Either way, the joviality from Des was appreciated.

Even though he certainly didn't refrain from mouthing off.

"I think I'd be willing to risk it." Not that he would ever go through with it. However much he fucked around in regards to starting trouble, most of it was just humorous bluster. It wasn't that he didn't know how to cause a ruckus, but that it would involve a bit more than stealing a man's collection of alcohol, as hefty as the collection was. He would admit it was a bit tempting, though. Just a bit.

Not for the first time, Gabriel considered the logistics of smacking the wolf upside the head, but that might be more effort than it was worth. "If it's both, promise you won't try upping your game." He didn't even know if such a thing were possible, though it was likely he'd been spending too much time with awkward kids and the less-talkative type. Mainly Lazarus and himself. Maybe this would remedy that- the alcohol would certainly remedy something, and he didn't hesitate to tip the bottle over the glass, shuffling it around to the other to fill it equally. "Laugh at me and you'll wake up missing a few things." The statement referred to the awkward method for drinking the mezcal. His beak was a bird's, but his tongue was definitely feline, so it fit a bit oddly in his mouth and unfurled just as strangely, considering "cat tongue" wasn't what most people expected when seeing a beak.

He lapped at it, taking a moment to admire the smokiness before it was time to take care of the scrapes. Alcohol wasn't his go-to disinfectant. It could work as a last resort, but when it wasn't his only option, he preferred to take something that wouldn't deaden his nerves. He already had enough of that with the damn ghosting his body liked to do. "But you have more than vodka, thankfully. Otherwise I might hit you over the head with it."

There was a short silence between Gabe working with the alcohol and Des rummaging, until he asked his question; the lack of immediate reply drew his gaze to the canine, whose muscles had drawn taut, generally strained until he strode back over looking perfectly fine. So Gabe had found a nerve unwittingly. He took a walk around his question, taking account of various angles. Des could be bothered that he underestimated his preparedness, or he was uncomfortable with remarks on his possessions in general, except he'd been receptive about the booze. Something else then. The quantity comment?

He didn't have much of a chance to explore that, or to dissect Des' answer, because it was time to take care of the useless wing on his back. He rolled his shoulders and gave his neck a pop. "And if you lied, I'd call you out on your shit. It's not my first time, so just do what you need to do."

[align=right][i]——INFO

[adomania]

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It had been a long time since he had been put in his (albeit occasionally rightful) place, with very little authoritative figures caring too much to smack him when he got a bit too mouthy or when his shit-eating grin couldn't be wiped off with anything else. He wasn't an egotistical individual by any means, but he had a stubborn streak a mile long that often made him insufferable at the worst times. He could throw insults around if he wanted, share a little sharp banter, and so far Gabriel was doing nothing but feeding the flames. In his defense, if things got out of hand, Gabriel had allowed him and Des had been left unsupervised.

"No promises, but I'll try my best to spare you for now since you don't have an easy means of escaping right now," either way, he was setting himself up perfectly to be smacked upside the head if Gabriel decided he had enough, but Des wouldn't have gotten offended. He had it coming for years now. As for the statement, it earned him more of a chuckle than him drinking actually did, and without missing a beat he slid his own drink over and lapped at it, only to snort and nearly choke on the liquid when Gabriel spoke up once more.

"Hey now - let's not waste a perfectly good bottle of Vodka. You can hit me over the head with anything else in this room, but spare the alcohol, it didn't do anything to you," he dipped down to drink a bit more, before leaning back into a sitting position and licking his maw, suddenly grateful for the warmth it filled him with. It hadn't worked it's magic yet, and there was too little in his system to really do anything to begin with, but at least it took his mind off of Gabriel's previous comment, on which he didn't elaborate or question Des' response. That helped significantly as well.

"Right then," he didn't wast any more time with pleasantries, finally getting to the reason that Gabriel was here in his hut instead of the medics'. He was sure they could have done what he did as well, it was common knowledge among them given that it was, quite literally, their job... but they had a tendency to act far more worried and ask too many unnecessary questions... and didn't offer alcohol or a good conversation. The quiet often unnerved the canine enough to have taken shit into his own hands as a result.

With a breath to steady himself, he stood up and nodded towards the hybrid, before placing a paw firmly on the area the wing was broken, bandages and soothing poultice already waiting by his side. "Gonna... count down from three, alright?" he offered, then shifted around to gain more leverage in the position, starting his countdown once that was done.

"Three... two... one," at the last number, he firmly tugged the bones of the appendage into place, feeling them click into place with satisfaction but gritting his teeth as the feeling resembled the exact opposite. Gabriel was right that he was far more used to breaking bones than fixing them... the memories that flashed through his head were hard to stop, but easy to rid as he focused back on the present, grabbing the poultice and smearing it on, then following with the bandages to firmly wrap around the wing.

"There. All done... you feel like getting your ribs bandaged as well, or do you prefer just being careful to avoid having to look like a mummy come back from the dead?"

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Thus far, in Gabriel's experience, there were plenty of people who needed a few smacks upside the head, or at the very least, a dressing down. That wasn't his way of saying they were lost causes or that they lacked potential for being more than a trouble-maker; if it hadn't been for his mother, who had never hesitated to take him down a peg, he probably would've wound up in the same position, and when -or if- he'd gotten in with Capa, they would've rectified his inability to take direction more harshly than anything his mother would have done. Gabe couldn't say he approved of those methods. He'd seen one too many spirited recruits with crushed spirits, and very rarely did they manage to hold onto their fire. Gabe appreciated spark, however much it might seem he didn't. Feeding that glint more oxygen and fanning the flames was a result of that, a bit of goading to see how far their fire went before he did anything to redirect the bite.

A fire could be useful so long as you didn't let it get out of control. He wasn't saying he'd extend authority over kids with gumption, just- give a bit of tough guidance. He only needed to figure out how to approach that with Des, when the guy was locked up twelve times tighter than the chest of alcohol for all his friendliness.

For the time being, that manfisted in smacking the wolf's leg with the back of his talons, since he didn't want to bother stretching up for his head. "Easy's no fun." Although he would appreciate it if drinking were less of a challenge. It wasn't physically, because somehow everything tended to work together -unless he kept going through shit- but catching part of his reflection in the glass was definitely a trial of some kind. At least Des didn't comment on it. If he did, Gabe would have to give him a harder smack than that one.

He was sorely tempted to do it anyway when Des remarked on the vodka. The hybrid could take him up on the offer- just grab something in the room and hit him with it, although he didn't quite trust himself not to grab something on the side of too heavy and fumble with it ridiculously. He would spare himself the indignity, and Des the side-splitting laughter that would probably occur. "Vodka's done plenty things to me," Gabe muttered, gaze baleful, but the time of joking around and bantering was at an end now that they had to deal with the broken wing.

He much preferred the conditions here in the shack than wherever any of the medics would've taken him, on account of his strong dislike for getting poked and prodded. Gabe had enough of that for several lifetimes.

Still, he tensed when the wolf touched the wing, glaring at the ground. It was going to hurt like a bitch, but he could manage it. If he survived the process of having it broken, he could go with the mending, and it wouldn't be the worst situation he'd wound up in. Des was, at least, a better medic than staring at a wall and hoping he didn't bleed out as he'd done one too many times. He gave a slight nod at the countdown, and he focused merely on breathing and keeping himself steady for the canine to do his work without having to compensate for Gabe squirming. Not that he would ever do that anyway.

When the cloudburst of bright shocks burned a hole in his nerves, the hybrid made a sound caught between a snarl and a hiss, eyes shut tightly as he heard more than felt Des applying bandages. That area of his wing felt better, though, and there was something sticky on it that he managed to feel as soon as the fireworks stopped playing behind his eyes. Gabriel exhaled heavily, and snorted at the commentary, rolling his shoulders. "Think I'll manage without them, nurse." He shifted around, plopping himself down while facing Des. Very quietly, and a bit gruff, he said, "Thanks."

[align=right][i]——INFO

[adomania]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]The fire in Des' soul was... a finicky thing. There was a bite to it, yes, but mostly only directed towards things he found worth directing it towards. Perhaps he hadn't had some outside force there to curb it for him, or to direct it in a positive direction... but in his youth he had learned the lesson of biting your tongue at the most opportune of times to get more out of it than aggression could give. He wasn't out of control, not yet, and if anything the fire was what kept him... humane. There was no fear of it going out of control unless someone purposefully pushed him into it, but even then it was likely to go awry than it was to be completely snuffed out, replaced by nothing short of a frigid blizzard.

The fire kept him warm, alive... responsive. It was best for everyone that it was fanned rather than murdered, for the individual soon to replace it would have something far different than a crushed spirit. His sense of vengeance was stronger than his anger could ever be, and Des had held enough lives in his jaws to know just the amount of force needed to kill.

He wasn't young anymore, however, not enough to be easily manipulated into doing anything he didn't feel like doing. It was a saving grace that he had ended up kinder as a result of his upbringing rather than merciless, but the time for authority was mostly over. There was no denying the fact that, despite all his friendliness, getting to the core of his personality was a tough act that none had yet to achieve, and that he longed for the connections he was equally unwilling to make... but how much of his anger and guilt could be redirected, not even he knew. Des had mastered the art of repression too well to care much about embracing anything he felt, and in reality he needed far less guidance than he did therapy, to find the will and means to understand and acknowledge who he was and why.

Still, for now he was no better than a rambunctious teenager finally let loose, deflecting Gabriel's words as a test to his own intelligence and speed. He had expected to be rusty in this, but it seemed that old habits were hard to break, so he pressed onwards gleefully.

But, true to his word and personality, Des knew when to be serious. He ignored the snarl that left Gabriel's maw when he was done, although he was wary enough to jump back when the hybrid turned around, half expecting his face to be clawed or his throat to be ripped out... needless to say he was pleasantly surprised when neither happened, and the tension in his muscles was quick to fade when he spoke up again. "Yes sir," the word was spoken with the same intent that Gabriel 'nurse' had been, the grin sliding back easily onto his maw, gaze sharpening once more now that the serious part of the entire ordeal was over.

Still, it softened at the thanks, tail briefly wagging behind him only to be stilled soon after. "'fcourse. Don't mention it," he mumbled in response, ducking his head under the pretext of taking another sip of his drink in order to avoid having to explain both his humbleness and the awkward heat that filled his face. He wasn't used to being thanked for his help, and more importantly didn't care much for it in the same way Gabriel didn't seem to enjoy being fretted over.

A moment of silence passed between them before Des cleared his throat, careful to approach any new subjects but also eager to avoid any moment of quiet that could give way to thoughts he'd rather forget. "Anyways... you feel like talking here, or do you wanna get out of this cramped space into the fresh air? I can take you around and get you familiar with the area if you're not too sore... promise not to shove you into the sea unless you want to." Another pause passed between them, then quickly, almost like an afterthought, he murmured a low 'if you want to, of course,' offering Gabriel an easy way out of his company if he so wished.

[GABRIEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/sorry this took me a bit!

Most of the time, during his job and elsewhere, he'd get to them when they were kids. Des would need a separate approach because of many reasons, one being his age, though that wasn't to say the children were any less of a challenge, or Des more so. It was always a matter of finding their motivation -if they had one beyond survival- and what they responded to best, whether it was softer words while he flattened himself or speaking loudly and acting casually with his body positioning. The former was usually for the small children, and the ones who seemed to find larger creatures -along with sounds- formidable. The latter was a bit rarer in his experience, a method Gabriel used when the person was one who'd only known the quiet, who could use a reminder that they didn't need to hide anymmore. Gabriel wasn't always successful, though. He wasn't a behavioralist or psychiatrist, just a guy who'd been there once and would spare them the gritty road if he could.

There were times he'd chosen the wrong technique and scared the child off, or their temporary docility fell to an aggression he couldn't break through again. He'd been reminded many times that it wasn't his job to pull clean-up, or babysit, but as far as he could see, no one had considered it their responsibility when they should have.

But he wasn't a miracle-worker, and as much as he considered how to find whatever it was Des kept disguised, he couldn't fool himself into thinking he would be able to, or that Des would allow it. He wasn't a child. He'd made it this far, and Gabe couldn't say that when he was around his age he wanted anyone poking around in his life, let alone some washed-out old man. It was simply a bitter pill for him to swallow when he found he couldn't help someone. You'd think he'd be used to it by now.

The pain he was better accustomed to, and when he turned around, he hadn't anticipated Des to hesitate away from him, as though he expected some kind of retribution from Gabe for what was, by all means, an act of kindness. Had Gabriel given him that impression? He might have, and he would need to retrace his steps to keep from presenting himself like that again. Maybe his inaction would serve to show he wouldn't attack him over a bit of necessary pain. "Don't get cheeky."

His quiet expression of gratitude at least garnered a better reaction. The brief burst of wagging didn't go unnoticed, though he didn't comment on it, because while it was an improved response compared to shifting away from him, Gabe could recognize discomfort. He wouldn't pry. Even he grew gruff when people thanked him.

The hybrid took a few more laps of mezcal, and the muscles between his eyes shifted in the equivalent of raised eyebrows. He straightened back up, head tilting in a distinctly avian fashion. "Tour guide and nurse? Multi-talented." Gabe snorted, rising to stand. "Lead the way. I'll let you know if I want to be launched into the ocean."

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