[At least the monsters aren't as tall as buildings, whatever mild reassurance that might be. Cain's eyes scour the stranger in front of him until he's satisfied by the lack of threat - no sharp teeth, nothing that might suggest another monster ready to lunge at his throat. Even then, it's difficult to relax, particularly when adrenaline begins to fade and the pain in his arm comes roaring back to life.
He grits his teeth and scowls. Little more than a wet dog (dog-monster), he's compelled to shake out his fur, water raining on Jean.]
Do I look like I wanna eat you? [So much for a pleasant frolic in the baths. Who knew trying to get laid would be such a fraught experience.] Gimme your shirt.
[A quick glance of their surroundings will yield little to help, unfortunately for Jean, as the changing room is barren of personal effects.]
Hey. [ A step back taken as the water droplets go raining everywhere. He really is reminded of a dog right now. Guess those animal-like features give people animal-like instincts too? He's going to have to think about what being half-insect means for Mikasa.
Cain's attitude is just as sullen and brash as his own, and he doesn't find himself minding it that much. These kinds of people can be a little easier to relate to, and it's also nostalgic having this kind of interaction. Maybe he's odd like that, but sometimes he likes it when he doesn't get along with people.
Though, he's definitely not sure he likes this predicament they're in. ] I was hoping it wouldn't come to that.
[ It's a nice shirt!!! Now it has to go, because judging by the situation there's no choice. Cain's bleeding out, and despite how he likes to pretend to be meaner than he is, Jean's really too kind to not do anything. He starts unfastening the buttons with a resigned groan, stripping himself and handing the fabric to Cain. He doesn't know if Cain will be able to make a knot one-handed, but it does look like he knows what to do. ] Fine. Here.
[ Jean's a modest man, so he's going to feel really silly walking home half-naked. At least none of his friends are here to make fun of him. ]
[What a sucker. Cain's satisfied to see he's actually willing to forfeit the shirt, eyes narrowed and watchful as the piece of clothing is shed and offered out. The hand of his uninjured arm reaches to snatch it. Jean's half-nudity is of no real consequence to him, too accustomed to showering with an entire spaceship of naked men to care.]
Look, you're the one that's here. Good thing you didn't go in there before me, huh? [Then you would be eaten, Jean, haunted forever by this cursed fate in another dimension.] Maybe I did you a favor first.
[Yet while Cain knows how to tie off his own injuries, it becomes impossibly awkward one-handed. He makes several attempts out of sheer stubbornness - winding the fabric, then yanking at it with his mouth - only to tear a strip off using sharp canines instead.]
[ He actually is lucky that Cain had gone in first. He didn't survive man-eating giants for so many years only to come here and be eaten by a fish in a men's bath. That would be both devastating and so, so stupid. Fine, point taken.
Jean had intended to help him before, but it looked like the guy wanted to do it on his own. So, he continued to watch the struggle, wondering when would be a good time to intervene. It's only when he sees his white button-up so unceremoniously ripped up that he decides to step in. ] Do you have to tear it too ...?! You wild dog.
[ RIP his nice shirt. ] Just ask for help if you need it. [ Reaching over, he steadies Cain's injured arm, coiling the frayed fabric around the wound for him. ]
Edited (wow i cant grammar ) 2020-05-29 06:37 (UTC)
I don't need help— [comes the irritated growl, even as he... allows that help, ears and tail both drooping in cowed temper. Cain is surprisingly still and quiet while the fabric is wrapped and tied off around his arm. He uses this time to study Jean, eyes narrowed to slits. He even sniffs the air for good measure.] You're a witch, right? You smell like one.
[ The realisation that he was just sniffed does cause the expression on his face to flatten, movements stilling, but Jean lets out an exhale and continues tightening that fabric. The animal-like behaviours other people are exhibiting are always going to be awkward to deal with. ] Yeah, I am.
[ But he doesn't really know what to do with this power yet. Otherwise, he would be trying to use healing magic instead. ]
Just a few weeks. I'm told I'll probably be leaving with the others at the end of the month. [ He gives that cloth a good tightening. It might be a bit painful. ]
[Just make sure you always wear deodorant, Jean. He'll be able to tell.]
Thought so. You got that weird, sharp scent... [This makes perfect sense to Cain, who leans closer again for another whiff, unconcerned at their current state of undress.] Like lightning in a dust storm.
[Bizarrely poetic....... He grunts at the tug of fabric over his arm, fabric soon dotted red as the bleeding is staunched, then gives a wolfish smirk.]
Same here. So does it even matter if we give each other our names? Not like we're gonna stick around. Or do you want something to remember me by?
[ What is happening ... The only reason he doesn't react immediately to the second whiff is his sheer, utter confusion at the situation (and the knot in the fabric he's making with his hands). The proximity makes his hair stand on end, muscles tensing as a bead of sweat rolls down his cheek. In all honestly, he's not stupid. This feels a bit like flirtation. But why? Jean's a pretty manly-looking guy, with his tall height and the facial hair he's carefully letting grow.
It's that assumption that leaves him slightly flustered, his face colouring a little, but he fights the urge to start breaking out into yelling the same way he might have done as a young teen. This is not a situation he deals with very often at all, with how abysmal his love life is (he's just ... not very popular? And also, constantly in a state of trying not to die). The bizarre eloquence in Cain's description just adds to the surrealness of the whole thing.
It might not even be flirtation anyway. Then, how awkward would it be to bring it up? Yeah, no, just going to pretend it's not what he thinks it is. ]
I'm just trying to make conversation. [ One final tug, and the knot is done. He then shoves Cain's head further back with a palm grabbing onto his face. ] And you, why are you going around sniffing people freely like this? Don't you see how weird you're making it, especially since we're both without a shirt ...
[As cavalier and unashamed as Cain is by nature, this isn't too typical of a behavior — he doesn't get like this with just anyone. Neither does he proposition fish people in public bathhouses regularly, but something has been itching at him since he first crashed through a mirror with animal traits and heightened senses. The ability to smell everything around him, every person... it's an unsettling adjustment. These instincts aren't new to him, they're just worse. Harder to control.
And the scent of his own blood in his nose is enough to make him a little loopy.
Jean isn't strictly his type — he tends toward more feminine attributes — but that flush earns a shit-eating grin. It only lasts up until he's pushed back by his face.]
Hey, watch it!
[The grin collapses into bared teeth, canines white and sharp. He reactively lowers an arm across Jean's collar like a crossbow and shoves, slamming the other man in the direction of the wall with... a bit of an excessive amount of force, yet unused to the advantages of being a Turnskin and still sensitive after getting attacked.]
[ Having matured past the blustering and confrontational attitude he had in childhood, Jean's been doing a fine job keeping himself out of trouble since coming here. It's been a peaceful few weeks of mostly exploration and some relaxation. He hasn't actually had a fight since arriving. That's why it hadn't quite occurred to him that there was a disparity between his own strength and that of the transformed people around him. He's shoved into that wall hard, hitting his back and head. Though he's mostly a calm and serious individual these days, some of that old spark does come out when the situation commands it. ]
What the hell?! Did you really have to shove so hard?! [ Logic dictates Jean's actions for most times of the day, but emotion and bluster still manage to overtake him from time to time. Plus, there might be a part of him that finds these sorts of interactions a little bit fun. Some adrenaline to make an otherwise mundane day exciting. He definitely doesn't like to be in fights where he has to seriously harm someone or watch a comrade lose their life, but this sort of thing is just nostalgic. He'll return the favour by going over to Cain and shoving him hard in return. He's about as strong as a guy who does training. ] That hurt, you asshole!
[It wasn't his intention to shove so hard, and for a moment Cain looks taken aback hearing the thud of the other man's body as it meets the wall. Another small disconnect between his memory and awareness and the transformed state of his body. As if responding to that, the tawny pointed ears on his head twitch and then lay flat.]
You started it-- [He's cut off prematurely by an answering shove, Cain's teeth baring as he lets himself wobble back a step before hands lash out to seize Jean's wrists. Cain's forearm gives a painful throb, stain leeching fabric.] You're not gonna win, so just give up!
[He attempts to drag Jean in closer and use the momentum to knee him in the gut.]
[ Honestly, he probably won't win, and when he feels Cain's strong grip over his wrists, that assessment only seems to hold more truth. If they had met as two humans, they might have been more evenly matched. That's, unfortunately, not the case right now. The practical side of his brain is telling him not to fight a being clearly stronger than himself, but he doesn't always listen to it. Sometimes pride comes first -- when no actual lives are at stake, anyway.
The knee to the gut knocks the wind right out of him, his body keeling over with an undignified "D'oh!". He dangles limply as he recovers from the blow for a few seconds before rising to fix a glare at Cain again. ]
You don't ... know that ... [ Spite. Spite got him going through his training days and it continues to be a powerful motivator today. He'll lose this opening if he wastes time trying to shake his wrists out of Cain's grip, so he uses their current proximity to try and headbutt the guy right in the forehead instead.
This is so nostalgic... It's been a long time since he's had a stupid fight. ]
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no subject
He grits his teeth and scowls. Little more than a wet dog (dog-monster), he's compelled to shake out his fur, water raining on Jean.]
Do I look like I wanna eat you? [So much for a pleasant frolic in the baths. Who knew trying to get laid would be such a fraught experience.] Gimme your shirt.
[A quick glance of their surroundings will yield little to help, unfortunately for Jean, as the changing room is barren of personal effects.]
Hurry up.
no subject
Cain's attitude is just as sullen and brash as his own, and he doesn't find himself minding it that much. These kinds of people can be a little easier to relate to, and it's also nostalgic having this kind of interaction. Maybe he's odd like that, but sometimes he likes it when he doesn't get along with people.
Though, he's definitely not sure he likes this predicament they're in. ] I was hoping it wouldn't come to that.
[ It's a nice shirt!!! Now it has to go, because judging by the situation there's no choice. Cain's bleeding out, and despite how he likes to pretend to be meaner than he is, Jean's really too kind to not do anything. He starts unfastening the buttons with a resigned groan, stripping himself and handing the fabric to Cain. He doesn't know if Cain will be able to make a knot one-handed, but it does look like he knows what to do. ] Fine. Here.
[ Jean's a modest man, so he's going to feel really silly walking home half-naked. At least none of his friends are here to make fun of him. ]
no subject
Look, you're the one that's here. Good thing you didn't go in there before me, huh? [Then you would be eaten, Jean, haunted forever by this cursed fate in another dimension.] Maybe I did you a favor first.
[Yet while Cain knows how to tie off his own injuries, it becomes impossibly awkward one-handed. He makes several attempts out of sheer stubbornness - winding the fabric, then yanking at it with his mouth - only to tear a strip off using sharp canines instead.]
Aghh, come on! Why is this so hard!
no subject
Jean had intended to help him before, but it looked like the guy wanted to do it on his own. So, he continued to watch the struggle, wondering when would be a good time to intervene. It's only when he sees his white button-up so unceremoniously ripped up that he decides to step in. ] Do you have to tear it too ...?! You wild dog.
[ RIP his nice shirt. ] Just ask for help if you need it. [ Reaching over, he steadies Cain's injured arm, coiling the frayed fabric around the wound for him. ]
no subject
I don't need help— [comes the irritated growl, even as he... allows that help, ears and tail both drooping in cowed temper. Cain is surprisingly still and quiet while the fabric is wrapped and tied off around his arm. He uses this time to study Jean, eyes narrowed to slits. He even sniffs the air for good measure.] You're a witch, right? You smell like one.
[What does that mean...]
How long have you been here?
no subject
[ The realisation that he was just sniffed does cause the expression on his face to flatten, movements stilling, but Jean lets out an exhale and continues tightening that fabric. The animal-like behaviours other people are exhibiting are always going to be awkward to deal with. ] Yeah, I am.
[ But he doesn't really know what to do with this power yet. Otherwise, he would be trying to use healing magic instead. ]
Just a few weeks. I'm told I'll probably be leaving with the others at the end of the month. [ He gives that cloth a good tightening. It might be a bit painful. ]
You didn't tell me your name.
i'm sorry for.... him
Thought so. You got that weird, sharp scent... [This makes perfect sense to Cain, who leans closer again for another whiff, unconcerned at their current state of undress.] Like lightning in a dust storm.
[Bizarrely poetic....... He grunts at the tug of fabric over his arm, fabric soon dotted red as the bleeding is staunched, then gives a wolfish smirk.]
Same here. So does it even matter if we give each other our names? Not like we're gonna stick around. Or do you want something to remember me by?
no subject
[ What is happening ... The only reason he doesn't react immediately to the second whiff is his sheer, utter confusion at the situation (and the knot in the fabric he's making with his hands). The proximity makes his hair stand on end, muscles tensing as a bead of sweat rolls down his cheek. In all honestly, he's not stupid. This feels a bit like flirtation. But why? Jean's a pretty manly-looking guy, with his tall height and the facial hair he's carefully letting grow.
It's that assumption that leaves him slightly flustered, his face colouring a little, but he fights the urge to start breaking out into yelling the same way he might have done as a young teen. This is not a situation he deals with very often at all, with how abysmal his love life is (he's just ... not very popular? And also, constantly in a state of trying not to die). The bizarre eloquence in Cain's description just adds to the surrealness of the whole thing.
It might not even be flirtation anyway. Then, how awkward would it be to bring it up? Yeah, no, just going to pretend it's not what he thinks it is. ]
I'm just trying to make conversation. [ One final tug, and the knot is done. He then shoves Cain's head further back with a palm grabbing onto his face. ] And you, why are you going around sniffing people freely like this? Don't you see how weird you're making it, especially since we're both without a shirt ...
no subject
And the scent of his own blood in his nose is enough to make him a little loopy.
Jean isn't strictly his type — he tends toward more feminine attributes — but that flush earns a shit-eating grin. It only lasts up until he's pushed back by his face.]
Hey, watch it!
[The grin collapses into bared teeth, canines white and sharp. He reactively lowers an arm across Jean's collar like a crossbow and shoves, slamming the other man in the direction of the wall with... a bit of an excessive amount of force, yet unused to the advantages of being a Turnskin and still sensitive after getting attacked.]
good boys should not be fighting ...
What the hell?! Did you really have to shove so hard?! [ Logic dictates Jean's actions for most times of the day, but emotion and bluster still manage to overtake him from time to time. Plus, there might be a part of him that finds these sorts of interactions a little bit fun. Some adrenaline to make an otherwise mundane day exciting. He definitely doesn't like to be in fights where he has to seriously harm someone or watch a comrade lose their life, but this sort of thing is just nostalgic. He'll return the favour by going over to Cain and shoving him hard in return. He's about as strong as a guy who does training. ] That hurt, you asshole!
no subject
You started it-- [He's cut off prematurely by an answering shove, Cain's teeth baring as he lets himself wobble back a step before hands lash out to seize Jean's wrists. Cain's forearm gives a painful throb, stain leeching fabric.] You're not gonna win, so just give up!
[He attempts to drag Jean in closer and use the momentum to knee him in the gut.]
no subject
The knee to the gut knocks the wind right out of him, his body keeling over with an undignified "D'oh!". He dangles limply as he recovers from the blow for a few seconds before rising to fix a glare at Cain again. ]
You don't ... know that ... [ Spite. Spite got him going through his training days and it continues to be a powerful motivator today. He'll lose this opening if he wastes time trying to shake his wrists out of Cain's grip, so he uses their current proximity to try and headbutt the guy right in the forehead instead.
This is so nostalgic... It's been a long time since he's had a stupid fight. ]