Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The woods are dark and deep, but not particularly lovely. If anything, they feel dangerous, as if something terrible might come lurching out from behind any given tree and tear into the nearest warm body. What that terrible thing might be is anyone's guess. A cat with hands? Slenderman? Stegosaurus? Actual cannibal Shia LaBeouf? All of the above in a horrible mob? It's anyone's guess. But every dreamer will be absolutely convinced that there is something unspeakable out there, and that it's after them.

The dreamers have two things on their side. The first is that there is actually nothing dangerous lurking in these woods (with the possible exception of other dreamers). The pervasive terror the dreamers are feeling is just that: a rift-given feeling, nothing more and nothing less. That snapping twig or rustle in the undergrowth is almost certainly just a squirrel or something else equally harmless.

The second is that no dreamer is alone. They all will be reunited with - or introduced to - their dæmons, a source of comfort in this dark, intimidating wilderness. However frightened the dreamers might be, at least they have someone with them who definitely doesn't want them dead.

[OOC: as ever, any and all are welcome! You don't have to be in the game to join the fun. Dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. And the party only stops when you want it to; feel free to backtag forever.]

Comments

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie sighs heavily. His gentle attempt to steer her back onto what he thinks is the right track is unhelpful, but it's also sort of moving. She doesn't get the sense that Mal is used to children or knows quite what to do with them, even the normal ones, and she is not a normal one. He's still trying, though. And if he truly believes she lives in this forest - that she has for years - then there's no reason not to think she couldn't keep doing it, and no reason for him to spend valuable ship-finding time trying to set her straight.

It's probably a good thing she doesn't cry easily.

"You're a good man, Captain Reynolds," Melanie says solemnly, reaching out to give his shoulder a gentle pat. It's an odd, formal little gesture, but she doesn't feel she knows him quite well enough for a hug, and a hug would unseat Niko, anyway. "But I'm not confused, and I'm not crazy. I'm telling you the truth, because," she falters a moment, pulling her hand back and dropping her gaze - why is she so determined to make him understand? - then continues, "because I don't want you to be upset when you don't find your ship here." Especially because his ship isn't even really lost, in all likelihood.

"Most dreams feel real when you're in them, right?" Melanie takes a step back. Nikolaos squeezes her shoulder in silent warning - kind as Mal has been, he still has a gun that he's quick to reach for - but Melanie quells him with a stroke of his feathers. "Even if it's weird or scary or doesn't make sense. But it's still a dream. Look."

She turns to Niko. "Maybe try something smaller," she advises, before adding, for Mal's benefit, "I promise we're not going to hurt you, or your horse."

Niko gives her an incredibly unimpressed look, but truthfully, he's also getting a bit tired of pretending to be a normal bird. That doesn't mean he relishes the idea of taking an even smaller shape, but he sees Melanie's point. After a moment's consideration, he turns into a squirrel, his grip still tight on her shoulder, his muscles tense in case they have to move quick.

[captain_mal]

"You're a good man, Captain Reynolds," Melanie assures him, patting him on the shoulder like she's some what more grown that she looks. Almost makes him feel bad about not being much of a good man. Surely wouldn't be saying that if she knew Mal'd just imagined her setting this as bait for some town-wide trade. Wouldn't be the first incident of the sort he wandered into. All the same, not the nicest thing to go around assume of anyone. "But I'm not confused, and I'm not crazy. Because I don't want you to be upset when you don't find your ship here."

On some level that's just about the kindest sentiment Mal's ever heard anyone express, at least from the ones directed his way (which tend to be a lot less charitable). Gāi​sǐ Shàng​dì. To think he'd been hoping this could've ended without turning into a tangled mess and certainly without Mal feeling any worse than he's already started.

"That's a might fine thing for you to say, miss," Mal replies, repaying the compliment with a quick bow of his head. "And don't think I ain't relieve to hear that you ain't guò​q-" cuts himself short, awkwardly recalling that she wouldn't understand what he meant. "That you ain't all crazy-like," Mal corrects after a slower start up before getting back on track with what he'd been trying to say. "Not that I'd been thinking you were a fēn--" He sighs as he has to pause once more to think up the word he wants in English. "A total madman with a rambling mind."

While Mal's trying to be as gentle as possible about introducing Melanie to the idea that mayhaps staying all alone in some terrifying old woods for however long ain't the healthiest place for such a little girl to be living - mentally or physically judging by her slight size and all even if Mal's still not much sure where to peg her age - and back on his ship he just happens to be good friends with a fine young doctor that could likely fix her right up or at least a sweeter than honey mechanic that will get her fed.

For such a little thing, though, she sure is full of determination, probably holding more in than grown men four times her size. It's a trait Mal find very admirable under the right circumstance, just ain't sure this is one of those. Because in this case Melanie just goes on insisting that they really are living out nothing ore than a dream which.... Well, young ones like her should be plenty tankful to the roly-poly buddah above that they ain't actually in Mal's dreams. It's not a place kiddies belong, or any human beings whose minds weren't very well left behind in the war and so who relive it with the dead at their side every night. No, here she is just a child, she don't need to know about the sort of horrors Mal has seen and she certainly shouldn't be dreaming about them.

No need to even bring up the fact that Mal shouldn't be dreaming this, either. It ain't a war valley or a ship caught between fleets of alliance cruisers and running short on supplies or the blackened, unlivable terrain of Shadow. For as wicked as it might feel sometimes, when it comes straight down it, this isn't nothing but a bunch of trees and not ones Mal's ever been around before. How could he be dreaming this in his whole head if he doesn't even know the place?

Melanie keeps on persisting, though, and eventually Mal relents with a tight nod. He ain't scared for either himself or the horse although honestly don't have the slightest clue as to what she might be planning. Still, the bronco seems to be pretty brave as far as horses go, and more than anything Mal's just feeling confused.So, sure, let her go and prove that they're just sitting around sharing he same weird dre--

"Xié​'è de fū​huà guǐ dàn." Mal had been making something of an effort to avoid Chinese ever sense Melanie insists she didn't know any, as impossible as that still seems. Still, the situation really did call for it in this case, tumbling out of Mal's mouth before he's had much time to reconsider.

At first he just blinks some because who knows how long he's been in this place, could be he's suffering from sever dehydration and don't even know and this is just his eyes playing tricks on him. "Now how'd you do a thing like that?" Mal stands back up, looking at all the branches around them for some sign of the owl. He'd seen his fair share of street magicians, tricksters and the likes but, still, not like she's got a box of props around in order to hide and grab what she needs, and hardy seems like just standing around in the woods is any sort of distraction technique most of those charlatans use.

Still, what's more likely? That the girl has just had lots of time on her own to prefect these little tricks of hers or that she's actually some kind of witch...

Course, suppose that at one time or another River had some off as a normal enough girl, least far more so than she does know, and it that's true than it go be-

Is Mal really even considering that possibility? Might as well just accept he is dreaming at that point if he's going to start believing that just 'cause kid can pull off a stage trick that it makes her some kind of real witch. Not that there aren't folks out there that believe in those sorts of things but Mal isn't one, least he wasn't, Seem since he picked those two Tams up back on Persephone that things have been getting a mite weirder 'round, well, which ever parts they just so happen to be passing through. Like this moment right here which, again, Mal's sure there is plenty of reasonable explanation for, even if he don't see any immediately around.

Decide it might just be time to go on the defensive here. "Not saying that weren't plenty impressive, but I've seen men on traveling fairs make whole elephants disappear with just a sheet, so you're going to have to pull something a bit more out there if you're hoping to convince me." Mal's not daring her own, oh boy not at all. He's just really hoping that's all she's got.

Without even thinking on it Mal reaches out for the stallion, running a steady hand down his neck. Don't know why the horse has bothered sticking around so long but Mal's starting to think he's actually looking for a traveling companion and, well, Mal don't mind the company so it's fine by him. "Now I have a ship to go and find...."

At that point Mal should just turn his back and take off, but it hardly seems right jut up and abandoning the child, regardless of what she might be. "You're still free to come along, of course, since you had to bothering getting down from your tree."

[all_the_gifts]

He is stubborn, Melanie will give him that. To be fair, he's not the first person here to be surprised that Nikolaos can change his shape, since it doesn't seem to be a thing that other dreamers' animals can do. But he's the first person to see it happen right before his eyes and then deny that it was real. He won't believe that this is a dream, but he will believe she's some sort of magician who can change an owl into a squirrel.

She opens her mouth to protest that it wasn't some sort of trick - being strapped to a wheelchair for most of your life makes it sort of difficult to practice sleight of hand - but Nikolaos beats her to it. His patience, it seems, has worn thin. He leaps to the ground and resumes the enormous dog shape he was favoring earlier. Sitting down, his head is about level with Melanie's, and he turns to give her a deliberate little nudge with his muzzle. "I told you he wouldn't believe it," Niko says. Then, to the stallion, "And why haven't you said anything?"

[captain_mal]

Mal turns his head away for and suddenly he's hearing voices or the two of them ain't so very alone as he'd been assuming. He don't even hesitate - might be plenty easy in such a state of gloom to appear and come right of nowhere but the voice sounds plenty familiar with the two of them meaning whoever it is must have been stalking about unseen and, well, in Mal's opinion that kind of sneaking makes a man untrutworthy least until he can prove others - drawing his pistol and twisting around in one fluid motion, aiming at his best approximation of where he'd heard the fellow peak, expecting to find himself face to face wit a full grown man.

See, that all comes pretty natural once you've lived the sort of life Mal has for the last all too many years. He's damn used to firefights and tight spots and in certain parts of the 'verse you either learn to react immediately without much time to think on it or else wind up with no time left to think or do much anything at all depending on how good a shot the other man is and how long it takes you to bleed out. Point is well before Mal's had any any time to mull it over or digest what's been said he's already staring down the barrel of his gun at the stranger, or by all rights were the stranger should be.

After the adrenaline passes and Mal's head's actually had time to catch up with his muscles he appears to be aiming at not much more than the thick forest air. Shàng​dì de yě​zhǒng de mǔ​qīn is he going mad, then? Maybe whatever the little girl has is contagious or maybe it's something about this planet's atmo? You hear of terraforming causing all sorts of unexplainable side effects,wouldn't be tso difficult to imagine the air here's got something fundamentally wrong with it and the longer he's grounded drinking it in the worse the effects will get. Actually might offer up an explanation for all these endless wood lands if they're trying their damndest to clean out the air system, as well as why there's something so unsettling 'bout this whole place even when you're just standing there.

All just wild-ass guessing bá chū pì​gu, but he ain't exactly working off of a lot to go on when it comes to being able and explain what precisely in the fluffy Lord's name is going on down here. Mean, his mind is pretty well filled with possibilities flying all over the place, most of which are straight up absurd, and taking under consideration his two prevailing theories that's saying a whole lot.

Makes him wish all the more there HAD been some kind of villain sneaking around listening in on private conversations before slinking out of the darkness. Would give Mal a good excuse to at the very least knock a few teeth out of the man's head might be just the sort of solid, straight froward confrontation he needs right now. Help sort his head out and get his mind put straight or at least let him just go on reacting without all this annoysome careful amounts of deliberating he's got to be bothered with.

The whole situation clearly throws Mal off his game for a few moments there. He'd been so expecting some full sized person to be standing right there when he'd turned around that the shock of seeing no one at all had - well, it's not exactly like he's been rattled up, just been so sure that he'd heard someone. Takes his brain a second to reboot is what he's getting at, which is when he first noticed the giant sheep life dog sitting next to Melanie right where his stranger should be. He looks something like a newfie from what Mal remembers of dogs back home on Shadow, certainly recalls those being plenty huge and this one seems to all but dwarf the child he's resting beside.

Now where in all the heavens did she go and pull THAT from? A squirrel and bird were easy enough to hide away, but a beast that big certainly couldn't have fit up in that tree with her and Mal hadn't seen so much as a whisker the whole time he'd been standing here.

"And," There is that voice again and Mal would swear it.. Not that anyone would believe him. Hell, he don't even believe it himself and he's standing right there. "Why haven't you said anything?" Don't even matter what the gorramn hell the dog meant by that and, yes, he said the dog as if it had been he one speaking because, well, that sure a hell is what it came off looking like to Mal. He blinks a few times, slowly at first, then shakes his head almost like a man sober up though he's fairly certain he's not drunk. Is he?

It's as good a theory as any of his others and would explain plenty of what he's seeing right now. Actually, there ain't much that would truly explain what he's seeing if in fact he's seeing it all. Hasn't completely ruled out the possibility that he's just going out of his gorramn mind.

"I'm sorry," Mal says in a way that clearly ain't so much an apology as a polite way to demand someone explain just what he ruttin' hell is going on here. "But did you just hear that dog talk?" Melanie might not be the best person to check his sanity against but Mal's not being left with very many choices. One of the few he does have is keeping his gun drawn and aimed in the general vicinity of the voice - human or otherwise - because regardless of whose doing the speaking right now Mal figures he's well within reason to find this whole situation just a tad threatening.

[all_the_gifts]

"His name is Nikolaos," Melanie explains, resting a hand on his furry shoulder, "and he's not really a dog. Just like your horse isn't really a horse."

"Because this is a dream," Niko butts in. He stands, then very pointedly takes the shape of a warthog. "See? I can change shapes and I can talk." He starts to pace back and forth around Melanie, his shape changing again, this time to a large, armored creature neither he nor Melanie could name. "How many times are we going to have to go through this? It's starting to get boring."

"Niko," Melanie protests, glancing at Mal in mingled apology and nervousness. He's still got his gun drawn, and while Niko isn't actually making any threatening moves, that might not matter if the sound of his voice is enough to frighten him. In a dream like this, it's not as if it would take much, anyway.

But her soul has been bottling things up for long enough that he's not even close to being ready to fall silent. "Well, it's true," Niko says, taking what he's pretty sure is a smaller sort of bear shape (not quite) and lifting his chin to sniff in the general direction of Mal's horse. "And that so-called horse has been no help at all," he concludes with an unimpressed huff.

[captain_mal]

Here's the thing: Mal is confused, he's lost, and he's armed. Which, generally speaking, ain't a good state for anyone to be in, 'specially not a grumpy, mean old captain with practice aim and a tendency to be a bit too bullheaded for anyone's good. Didn't at all help that, hell, as far as he is concerned that had been he he'd spent the whole of his day so far, his frustration over the whole matter increasing with every second ticking by. And that had all been well before this little show or whatever the hell you'd prefer to call it, the only purpose of which seems to be exasperating the captain's already thin patients with this whole situation.

This time can't be much mistake to what he's seeing. Mal keeps his eyes set right on the creature as it starts moving around, running it's mouth the whole time and continuously shifting from the body of one monstrosity to another. What he really needs is Kaylee or Wash here right now with their curious way of looking at things and figurin' out how they go about working. Mal's got no doubt there is some form of trickery behind this and he just ain't smart enough to see through it. Hell, he'd even take the good doctor. Wouldn't guess it watching him at a local tavern or actually any situation that called on him interacting with folks 'less he's got a scalpel in hand but the boy was clever as all get up. Normally it ain't a quality Mal would go encouraging him to exercise and show off. Terrible as it might sound, truth is Mal does get a kick out of Simon clearly having not a gorramn clue what to do with himself and so mayhaps on a couple of occasions pushes him into circumstances knowing he'll come out looking tún, but part of that is just that as far as Mal's concerned there is just too more core-breed properness to him (which ain't doing anyone no favors when he's on the run and endangering every one of Serenity's crew crew in the process, so as long as no harm comes from it Mal's actually doing him something of a kindness in forcing him to get more familiar with how regular human beings act when they ain't being cut open) and he's got a strong enough head on his shoulders to be able to stand up to some teasing 'specially since if it comes down to trouble the boy has wits enough to keep himself mostly out of danger and if situations were ever reversed and they found themselves out in the corner Mal knows how quick their roles would switch 'round. Can't help but find it somewhat annoying, putting him in something of a disagreeable position with the two Tams. Have the feeling that either one of them in any given moment has worlds worth of knowledge more than has even been through Mal's head. Now River, well, at least she's crazy enough that the thought of what all she might know is only ever terrifying. With Simon... Well, Mal would never go as far as to call the boy intimidating exactly, but can't help finding something about him dòng​hè. Can't help feeling at times that he just knows too much, and while the fanciness of his appearance and strange mix of stumbling stiffness make it hard to get a fix on at times, the boy has a hell of a backbone and at the very least the smarts to back it up. It's one thing for the mechanic and pilot to know more about wires and engines, ships and navigation than Mal - after all, that's what he went and hired them for - but Simon is a different matter, a man in a much more desperate situation and that's reasoning enough to keep Mal weary.

By far, though, this strange little playing being put on all supposedly for Mal's own benefit leaves him feeling far more wearisome. That ain't precisely the appropriate word, and neither is frightened though he could surely see how many man would be. Could be the only thing keeping Mal from feeling threatened is he's finding it far too perplexing to bother being properly scared out of his wits, even if they aren't much help to him right at that moment. Got to be a trick, short of straight out weirdness well beyond what Mal is prepared to deal with it's the best excuse he could manage and it's not much of one at that.

What doesn't help his mood none is the creature going and taking on a shape that's almost more of a horse than a bear, but one look at his claws really clarifies that point well enough. No if it is just something of an illusion doubting it's a strangely solid one. Then it goes making a threatening gesture at the stallion that Mal had picked up and, well, like he'd said it ain't really his so to speak but he don't take to kindly towards people... or things making threats at it and surely seems to startle the bronco more than anything so far had done, although not enough to chase the boy off. Enough, though, that his frightening sounding neighing is enough that Mal's nerves, already on edge, end up bubbling all over the surface.

It's not meant to kill the beast or whatever it was, not even to really hit it proper though Mal suspects it can't really be alive what ever it is. Still, his wits aren't so much frayed that he don't think this through and so ends up firing off nothing more than a warning shot, aiming it just past the giant's side where it shouldn't strike nothing more than a tree and maybe shock it enough that Mal can get some silence and slow his heart down, didn't even notice when that had started beating so fiercely, and give him time to properly think about all this insanity that seems so determined to go and drag him in.

stand by for one (1) angel

[all_the_gifts]

"I'm not sure you're helping, either," Melanie starts to say - scold, really - her gaze sliding away from the gun only for a moment, to give Nikolaos an exasperated glare. Maybe trying to explain things to the captain was a lost cause and they would have been better off not bothering, but that doesn't mean taking big shapes and all but taunting him is a good idea.

In fact, it's a terrible idea, as Melanie quickly realizes when she looks back to the gun and sees he's pointing it with purpose, toward Niko, and his finger is on the trigger and she knows, she knows what comes next. Or half of what comes next, because what will happen if Nikolaos gets hurt in this dream? She'll lose him, either from him dying here or her waking up, and she doesn't want that, not so soon. And it's so stupid of her to throw herself sideways, as if her little body could shield his much larger one, but she does it anyway with a panicked yelp.

In the same moment, Nikolaos resumes owl shape, taking flight in alarm, but he doesn't get very far before there's a sharp, stabbing pain in Melanie's chest and an echoing cry from her bird-soul. She hits the leaves, and Niko crumples to the ground beside her, then heaves himself onto her chest, feathers in disarray. The pain eases immediately - she'd thought he'd been hit, or that she had, but he's not bleeding. "What," he pants, "what...?"

No time for questions; they have to get behind a tree or something, have to keep moving in case Mal shoots again, because if he hits Niko, or if he hits her…

He's already hit her.

It's just a graze, really; she notices it as she attempts to scramble to her feet with Niko bundled in her arms. The far greater pain she'd experienced a moment ago had masked the fainter twinge coming from her upper arm. But she's bleeding. She's bleeding, sluggish and red and grey.

"Oh no," she says, sitting back down hard on the forest floor and clamping her arm over the wound. Niko struggles out of her arms and resumes dog shape, nosing at her worriedly. "Oh no."

Snarling, Nikolaos rounds on Mal, standing over Melanie like a large, furry shield. "You fucking dipshit!" he snaps, furious enough to borrow from Sergeant Parks's vocabulary.

No no no. All the latent fear the dream possesses crashes down on her like a wave. She just wants to get out of here, before she contaminates anyone, before something terrible happens to Niko. She just wants to be safe…

Then she remembers a warm hand cupping her cheek, and a promise. Squeezing her eyes shut, Melanie thinks about Aziraphale as hard as she can. Will this even work in a dream? "Aziraphale!" she cries for good measure. "Help!"

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale lost track of Melanie some time ago - that happens in these dreams, you just lose track of people, frightfully troublesome, and unnerving besides. Much like how he loses track of himself every night, managing to fall asleep even when he really doesn't mean to. Quite a bother.

The moment she calls for him, though, every other petty concern leaves him - he should not have let her slip out of sight, he knew these woods were dangerous - and Orisa lifts her head sharply as a tidal wave of panic and preemptive anger surges through them both. In a moment he's there, spirited from one metaphysical point to the space occupied by her consciousness, and she's on the ground, and she's bleeding. He scarcely even notices that his unkempt, tawny wings are tangible now, spread threateningly as he turns on the apparent assailant, some human he's never laid eyes on before, carrying a gun.

"What have you done?" he demands, his voice lower and darker than usual. In an instant his fiery sword has come alight in his hand; overkill, perhaps, but in his righteous fury he finds it a necessary measure. Orisa slithers down from his shoulders and crawls quickly to Melanie, curling around her protectively. Aziraphale feels a strange internal clench when her head brushes against Melanie's hand, but this too is necessary, and it's comfort he desperately wants to offer. Fortunate that he can, in these circumstances.

He makes no motions forward, does not angle the sword toward the human; a wrathful stare will do for now.

[captain_mal]

Tā​mā​de!

See now this is one of the problem Mal's got with people who come off all sweet and caring. He's got plenty good aim and enough confidence in it that even with everything around him acting so gorram bizarre, he trusts his hand enough to keep steady and hit a ruttin' target, in this case a tree or nothing much at all and the only thing that can possibly mess him up is when folks go acting like fools sometimes thinking they can dive out of the way of what's meant just to be an arm or leg shot and end up with the bullet lodged somewhere worse, but most of the time just by going and trying to be heroes.

Yeah, well, Mal has been around in this 'verse long enough to tell you acting like a hero don't do anyone damn bit of good. Because a hero ain't really anything more than a fool who thinks he's doing something good, and not just good but good enough to be worth dying for. So he goes and puts himself in harms way and all that happens is all hell rains down on him and anyone close to him and for all his efforts he find himself either dead or worse having to watch others dying because of him. And for all the good he thinks he's doing that's always the only real change that comes from it, that at the end of it all there are a few less folks still living.

Mal is old and weathered and knows enough to see heroism for what it is; just a man's way of being selfish while feeling good about himself for it but the young ones? They don't know any better yet than to carry on being optimistic, they haven't had to look right into the worst of humanity and even if they do, well, they can't help but believe the flicker of light they see is some sort of hope or good intention when it ain't nothing of the sort. So they go on with their goodness and believing their hearts to be in the right place. Exactly the kind of shǎ​dàn who don't even give a second thought to just how stupid it is before, say, jumping in front of a bullet not even meant for no one.

They're just too young to know better than to play at being heroes.

A lot happens all in a flash, which happens plenty of times when you fire a gun and Mal's practiced enough to know how to react without much more than maybe a single fleeting thought, just takes it in and counters quick as a man can. Still, most of that comes from his years in the war and even back at the ranch and ever since then he's been in plenty a situation that called for a good solid grasp on fighting and gun skills so it's hard to think of a time where he's been so out of his element he's got no idea what to do once bullets have been fired. Fair to say this may just be one of those times.

Before he's even released the trigger the mountain of a bear that had been sitting before him all but disappears which Mal had been thinking about before he fired. No matter how things might look after the fact, he ain't Jayne for heaven's sake. To be certain, Mal might be a bit less gun shy than most other folks but likely they wouldn't feel the same way had they lived out his life. Mal's just more than use to being in situations where being able to protect oneself is the only way he's still left standing today against what he is sure Zoe would argue is all good reason. Mal don't just shoot for the hell of it as Jayne has been known to do; when he's not liking the situation or the person is disagreeable or its just one of those days. No, Mal don't approve of treating a serious weapon so lightly, see, 'cause once you've fired well you never can be certain what the consequences will be.

Like here.... Here Mal had felt more than right in pulling the trigger. Not even just because he's been made to feel utterly confused and there's a real weariness to this place he just can't shake but because, damnit, even if this beast ain't real or is some kind of trick he seems real enough and he's got claws easily the size of Mal's arm and he's waving them at his gorramn horse (which, no, ain't technically his, but had been traveling with him and stayed beside him this entire time and had shown to have a certain amount of trust in the captain, and when an animal is willing to give you all of that, well, you've got to take a certain responsibility for it even when these no real good reason as to why). Now you threaten what is his and of course Mal's going to make a move to protect it, in this case he figured it best to just put a little sliver of fright in the beast's heart in return for scare the stallion. That's all it's meant to be, nothing more than a warning to shake up the system and quiet people down some, giving Mal a chance to contemplate this big old mess he's in.

Would be his luck that doing so only makes more of a mess of things. You just know, too, Jayne wouldn't have put a single thought into shooting that thing straight off ages ago, and probably wouldn't have wound up with half the trouble Mal's now got on his hands.

Should have been able to see it coming, too, that's the part he hates the most in all this. Well, no, in actuality that would be the fact that Melanie is now laying out on the dirt, blood welling up under her clothes but if that weren't more than enough for Mal to feel guilt over, than add to that the fact that he should have known better than to take that shot because he should have realized she is precisely the kind of good-hearted soul who wouldn't want to see anyone hurt, even just some elaborate talking animal side show.

Tāmāde niǎo... If she'd just kept herself still no one would have gotten any more hurt than a bit of shock but of course she probably didn't even consider as much because heroes rarely ever do.

"Gāisǐ," Mal curses first because he can't think of much else to say then immediately wishing he hadn't said anything at all, particularly that, and is more than a little relieved to remember she won't understand as it's just about the most inappropriate curse Mal could have pulled out, and here he'd been worried about toning down his language for the sake of the youngster.

Duō​me fēng​hé​rì​lì rì zài dì​yù.... Could have prevented all of this if -- well, for starters if he'd never gotten stuck this ruttin' excuse for a civilized world in the first place, and then if someone 'round here hadn't wasted their precious time teaching their children circus tricks instead of Chinese like normal folks. Those are the first two things to come to mind and he's sure there are plenty more if he really thought on them, but at the moment Mal's brains already been working at something of a frenzied pace to keep from panicking, and it ain't even working at that.

Besides, all the excuses in the 'verse don't make up for the fact that this is his fault, after all. He's a ruttin' full grown old man and she ain't nothing more than a wisp of a child and it don't really matter if she's got some kind of trick shape bender with her, does it? Not seeing as she's still such a little thing who really hasn't been all that mean to Mal - crazy, sure, a little, but never straight out mean and now Mal's gone and given her plenty of good reasons to be seeing as he's the one who shot her and all.

Mal learned long ago that it don't matter how much of an accident it had been or what the other person had done, you shot someone and it's on your hands. And now this is in Mal's.

"Duì​bu​qǐ, wǒ yī bèn lǎo​tóur yǔ méi kē xīn," Mal apologizes before realizing that, too, wouldn't make a lick of sense to the poor girl and she surly don't need to be hearing nonsense words when she's probably already pretty good and confused. Still, there are some things that are just easier to express in Chinese. Left with only English Mal sort of stumbles trying to find the right words to say.

Then again, talking has never been his strongest quality. 'Sides, they don't really mean much next to action. Supposed he'd just been expecting a moment of silence to think things through and now all he could here is this poor child near sobbing and crying out some word Mal doesn't recognize at all, could be one of those French or Spanish languages he'd never heard of. Mal holster's his gun and starts to scramble over to her, he could at least try and stop the bleeding or - Lǎo​ye de wú​shù tiān​táng don't do this to them. Of all the good persons to be here dealing with this... Not that Mal wants to up and leave, just for the girl's own sake seems like there must be someone better out there.

Now, on the one hand it's been a while since Mal's actually gotten around to praying much, mostly on account of God clearly all but abandoning him back when Mal believed in his holiness and kindness and all so he might be somewhat rusty on how it all works. On the other hand, do believe he would have recalled if it worked like this. Don't think even the good Shepard's prayers have ever been answered with such haste, and he's a much better man than Mal's ever been and likely with a better signal. Also, suppose he would have used it more often if every time he did it summoned some kind of wing angel directly too him.

Course that's nothing but utter nonsense running through a very frantic, already good and freaked out mind that he'd given no permission to just jump ship that way. Hardly any decent people out in the 'verse these days, never mind real and true angels. He's minds just stressed past the point of reasonablity and doesn't know what else to make of a winged man appearing out of thin air. Plus now he's got a swords. On fire.

Sort of thing that can get a man to stop dead in his tracks.

Perhaps he really is dreaming, Mal briefly considered, or perhaps - and far more likely - he's finally snapped and this is what it's like to be in River's head all the time to have things just changing shape on you and folks coming out of nowhere not looking quite right or human and using all sorts of crazy unreal weapons while sounding all kinds of real threatening. No wonder that girl can go throwing the loudest fits you ever heard. Hell, Mal's wishing he could do the same right about now.

Don't really have the time, though, least of all right this moment because with all the messed up pìhuà happening, most of which Mal ain't sure is some sort of trick or hallucination of lord only knows, there are only a couple of things left Mal knows and recognizes as being real. Things like naive young things who throw themselves in front of gunfire even when it could easily end them all to save something other than their own skin. It's the sort of ridiculous, irrational, selfless things that makes you wonder what the person was thinking and why they'd be so damn reckless?

Because they're real and human and if Mal knows anything it's that means making a whole lot of mistakes, often dangerous and usually stupid.

Which means some poor girl is bleeding out on account of Mal's own rash decision making, and could very much be in a real bit of trouble. So everything else around that talk when it ain't suppose to or appear from where there'd been nothing before, or had unnatural-like wings that don't rightly belong on them would just have to wait to the side while Mal took care of the more pressing troubles that he's far more sure of. He's had plenty of real life experience with bullet holes and how quick things can turn nasty, so as scary as it might be to go lighting some oversized knife on fire it ain't really something Mal's got any good reason to let frighten him.

'Sides which, the stubborn streak in him has failed to back down in face of a lot more far heavier armed forces, so unless he's brought the good Lord's entire fencing team, he don't see why he should be the one to back down here.

"Alright," Mal says with a bit of a nod of his head, doing his damnedest to take this all in strides. "Don't know where you came from just now or what the hell you folks 'round here do for fun." Meaning the whole act with dressing up and all the tricks they seem to be able to pull off. Hey, some worlds, he's been told, have taken up the hobby of juggling geese so as far as he's concerned this is just another weird lot of locals that he pretty well intends to never visit again. "But let me tell you something about me, you best get out of my way and let me get to that xiǎo​xiǎo yī​ gè or so help me I will shoot you down." Mal keeps his gun holstered, but that doesn't stop him from making threats. His stance pretty much says it as well as a gun to the face, anyway, with tense shoulders, a hardened glare, and pointing right at the... well, might as well call it an angel since Mal has no gorram clue what the hell this thing is, just that he doesn't have the time to care.

[all_the_gifts]

Mal starts forward, not to threaten but because he wants to help, because he still thinks he knows what's best. She might appreciate the good intentions if she didn't know what would happen if he gets her blood into his system. Would he even wake up if he started to turn into a hungry? Or would he just run through the woods, mindlessly tearing into any other dreamers he came across? She can't let that happen, she won't, and she scrambles backward accordingly as Nikolaos plants himself between her and Mal, teeth bared.

Then Aziraphale is there, just as he promised, wings flared and a blazing sword in his hand. Melanie stills, floored by the sight of him. Her heart clenches in much the same way that it had when Miss Justineau had crashed into Dr. Caldwell's lab with a fire extinguisher. For someone so good to do something so big, for her, it's so much more than she deserves, and she is so, so desperately grateful.

But she doesn't want anyone to get hurt. "He doesn't know what's going on," she explains in a panicked rush, "and Niko scared him and I just--I was so stupid." And there's no excuse for it, really; the star pupil should have been able to figure out the right thing to do.

"We tried to explain," Niko says. He still sounds annoyed, but now that help has arrived, much of the earlier anger has been supplanted by worry. Still, he stands his ground, hackles raised, just beneath Aziraphale's left wing.

Melanie watches the standoff anxiously, but her attention is diverted by Orisa's sudden arrival. "Oh," she says, astonished, as the snake curls around her like a hug, smooth and strong and warm from the angel's body heat. She nudges her head against Melanie's free hand, and the girl's fingers brush against the tiny, soft scales around her neck. "You shouldn't be here," Melanie says, little as she actually wants to send Orisa away. "It's not safe. I'm bleeding."

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale narrows his eyes and stands firm, unmoved by the threat or the weapon that backs it up. "I believe you've done enough," he says. "That 'xiǎo​xiǎo yī​ gè' is under my protection." Not sure what to make of the man's sudden burst of Mandarin, but it's scarcely relevant at the moment. Melanie and Niko's contributions he ignores for now; poor thing, always so well-intentioned, but he isn't about to hurt this upstart and he knows well enough, whatever happened, it could not have been due to Melanie being 'stupid'. No matter what she may have done or said, she is not the one firing on the defenseless.

Speaking of, that'll be quite enough of that, thank you. With a subtle flick of his wrist he alters the weapon's interior, subtly but enough to change the weight; no more bullets, only water. To Mal, he says, "You'll stand there, and you'll deal with me. I have no desire to harm you, but I will not allow you to touch her."

"I'm not going anywhere," says Orisa to Melanie, quiet but matter-of-fact. "Your blood can't harm anyone here, and regardless you can't harm me. It's going to be all right." She examines the wound briefly, then tilts her head to look at Nikolaos, so brave and vicious. "Come here, Niko, Melanie needs you." Better to diffuse the situation, if the animals are what's making this man jumpy.

Aziraphale wants to heal Melanie's wound - it will be the work of moments, but he needs to make contact with her, and he won't turn his back on this human just yet. Melanie will be fine, it is only a dream, but even in dreams this sort of behavior is unacceptable. "Explain yourself," he says coldly.

[captain_mal]

To Mal's mind, whoever this stranger is, he's acting downright rude.

First off, you don't just going showing up out of nowhere. Well, not unless you're looking to get yourself shot. In this case the fellow had been lucky enough seeing as Mal had just something of a misfire and his brain was taking it's sweet time catching up with the whole mess of a situation. Add to that being rightly preoccupied with the kid and, well, who goes and uses that as an excuse to go sneaking up on a man? 'Specially seeing as right at the moment time is not on their side.

It's hard to get a god look at Melanie, what with as small a creature as she is and seeing as Mal has a pair of wings, dog, and for some gorram reason a ruttin' snake now wrapped around her blocking his view. Mal might not be the most educated of folks but he's pretty certain that snakes can't sniff out blood like some kind of creeping coyote, and the large ones can rarely move all that fast or where it even came from....

But, no, of course Mal is the dangerous one here, not the giant snake that looks to be easily able to swallow that girl whole if it took to the idea. Yet here is this niǎo rén is trying to hold Mal back when he seems to be the only one around the least bit concerned about the girl lying there on the ground bleeding out, and without a proper look at her wounds Mal can't tell if the bullet is still lodged in there or not, causing even more damage. They need to get that out soon as possible, but suppose it's more important this guy show off whatever tricks he's got up his sleeves. Seems this whole gorram world is full of folks training to swindle hardworking types out of their well-earned coins. Probably doesn't even care about the poor kid, just looking for a way to show off is all.

Whoever he is, sure is protective for someone who couldn't be all that close to Melanie. After all, what sort of responsible adult lets a child go wandering through dark forests talking with strangers carrying guns and luring them out of trees? She all but told him she don't have no one to rely on, so he couldn't be anyone who looked in on her all that often. Also, seemed to understand language well enough. Sort of hùsheng knows well enough how to speak in both languages of this 'verse and then goes and only teaches a youngster one of them? Keeps her rather grounded, no wondered the poor thing don't know anything about ships.

Not that alone it's enough to end a man's life over, Mal reminds himself as he pulls his pistol out to make his point a little more clear. Just saying that he's accumulating reasons awful quick-like for a man he's just met.

At the same, Melanie seems to be familiar with the stranger, but suppose that's a given seeing as must be they come from the same backward circus show. So Mal figures whoever he is, he ain't nearly as important as saving someone never seen meant to get shooting the first place, who certainly don't deserve to loose an arm about it never mind worse. If Mal goes and kills someone Melanie knows don't seem likely she'll be very open to letting Mal get a look at that wound even if it's all in the name of trying to help. But hell if he ain't going to help her, and no niǎo-nǎo de guài​wu is about to stand in his way.

"Now, I'm telling you to back down," Mal growls, the end of his pistol pointed square in between his eyes. He shot her he'd damn well make it right, well, if he could just get this asshole out of his way. "Or else I'm going to have to-"

It's all done in one quick, sharp movement. Mal tosses the gun up just enough to grab it by the barrel, slamming the heavy butt of his pistol right into the angel's ear without hesitating that comes with a good conscious but plenty of practice pulling much the same trick on more than a handful of occasions. Good for knocking folks out so long as you ain't too worried about causing brain-damage.

[all_the_gifts]

At Orisa's call, Niko reluctantly backs down and returns to Melanie's side, his shaggy coat all but engulfing her uninjured shoulder and a portion of Orisa, as well. "I don't like this," he growls in an undertone. "He doesn't listen."

"He'll listen to Aziraphale," Melanie says with complete confidence. She might not like the way adults tend to dismiss her for her age (at least until they find out her IQ, which sometimes earns her a little respect), but she understands it, or at least isn't surprised by it. Mal's just another grown up who didn't take her seriously because she's young. But Aziraphale is old, and he's an angel - he's clearly an angel - so surely Mal will listen to him.

But he doesn't. He pulls out his gun again - as bad as a soldier, trying to solve everything by shooting at it - and Melanie stiffens in alarm. "Don't!" she objects, just as he changes his grip on the gun and swings it at the angel's head. Aziraphale staggers, and Orisa lets out a cry that's more indignant than pained, and Melanie is on her feet, staggering a little under Orisa's weight.

"NO!" she screams. Why is he doing this? "Stop! He's..." what? An angel, which any fool could see? Not a threat to her, which he's already made plain? Frightened, furious, she bellows, "He's mine!"

And they are not letting Mal hurt her angel.

Nikolaos doesn't change so much as sprout, neck and tail and all four limbs shooting outward and upward, head becoming bulbous, jaws widening to hold a truly appalling set of teeth, forepaws shifting into long, taloned fingers that flex menacingly. He towers over all of them, a deep growl rumbling in his cavernous chest, then lowers his head on its sinuous neck and fixes a large, red eye on the captain.

"You will not strike him again," thunders her jabberwock.

[bibliophale]

The strike is a surprise, which is appalling enough in itself, that Aziraphale allowed himself to be caught off guard. The worst he'd anticipated was a stream of water to the face. That hurts, and he stumbles enough that this absurdly bullheaded human gets past him, his hearing abruptly and briefly shorted out, now too muffled to hear anything but Melanie screaming - he turns his head sharply, in time to see her up, furious, and the ringing stops just in time to hear her call him hers.

That - that's - he doesn't even know how to begin to react to that. And he doesn't have time anyway. For a split second he just gapes at her. The human has brazenly (unsurprisingly) ignored Niko's command, even as immense and terrifying as he suddenly is, and is now on his kneels, close, too close to Melanie.

"Stop," he snaps, raising his hand. He freezes the human in place. He'll be able to breathe, observe, think, talk (though Aziraphale's keeping his finger on the proverbial trigger for that one), but he will not make another move toward her. "Enough. Don't hurt him, Niko. I'm all right."

He brushes himself off, disappears the sword and his wings, and stalks around the human to Melanie. He reaches out, and Orisa gladly crawls back up to his shoulders, allowing him to pick Melanie up.

"Everything's all right," he murmurs to her. Like that, her wound is healed, her blood is gone. Simple.

He turns on the human.

"If it is help you wanted to offer," he says, "perhaps you ought to listen to her next time."

[captain_mal]

"Stop!"

Mal has never been a particularly good one when it comes to following orders, especially when it's from persons he don't know nor cares to get to know in all honesty. So he doesn't suspect that just on account of the man looking like an angel that Mal is going to change his ways on that habit anytime soon. Hell, he's a sight more likely too -

Hmm... Well now, ain't that just the strangest thing?

The wet leaves crunch under his knees as Mal slips down to the ground, trying to reach out to Melanie. He doesn't just go grabbing her - he ain't a complete bèn dàn after all - knows if he were to going trying to force her to let him get a look at her arm that she's just going to continue freaking out on him which ain't at all what Mal wants, he's just trying to help her is all. Sure, her injury is mostly on his own account but that just makes it more his responsibility to check the damn thing, and right now that's all he's trying to get at. Be surprised how fast these wounds can bleed out or go bad, 'specially of some or even just a fragment of the bullet's lodged itself in there. If that's he case she's going to need some serious aid, and he don't mean some giant snake cutting off blood flow and a flaming sword to cauterization the wound as helpful as he's sure those sorts of tricks are when your injuries are from equally deceptive gimmicks they kind of which they keep employing though Mal has shown no patients for them.

Makes it even stranger that when the angel resorts to simply yelling commands at him - he's stronger than he looks, Mal will give him that much, that sort of blow should have knocked a man flat on his back and possibly left him there for a while to come - like after all his other mechanisms and con-acts this will be what finally gets Mal's attention.Yet like a child called out in a schoolroom Mal's hand stops halfway stretched out, hi fingers half curled out in offering to Melanie,just about as gentle as he could be when he really felt that wound needs attended to 'specially with such a slight, pale little thing probably ain't got much blood in her to lose. Weirder is how his other hand, sliding his pistol back in the holster in hopes it might help calm the girl's nerves somewhat seems to be just as stuck. Now that's notice it Mal finds he can't move a damn thing, every inch down to his damn toes are totally paralyzed.

Not just like he's gone still from the shock of being yelled at, nothing like that at all in fact, but he can't actually move a muscle, not for all he is worth, and he damn well strains near every one of them trying to get just about anywhere and the closest he comes is making some choked grunts, almost surprising in a way but it seems most of his face muscles work well enough.

"What the ruttin' hell have you done from me you bái​mù mā càode," Mal growls, and to say now that it might be a favor the girl can't understand him is something of an understatement, especially if Mal had any chance to unleash half of what is sitting right at the tip of his tongue. But before he went into the details over just what this man could go do and to who Mal wants some gorramn answers. Some kind of paralyzing drug, Mal suspects, but when he even had time to administer it how Mal missed such a thing, those are the real questions, ones he's betting he won't be hear much turthfullness on. "Best you cut the bullshit wèi​le Shén shèng​jié de pìyǎn seeing as you've got the costuming for it and all, angel." There's a real mocking sense to his smile and flirtations banter stuck on at the end, especially after all the rest of hadn't so much been spoken but growled, but just in case the stranger has any doubts what Mal's thoughts are on this whole act, well, there you have it.

And supposing he is some messenger from God than fine, have it your way old man, he's learned his lesson. Next time he doesn't try and help the kid, just lets them bleed out on the side of the road like a good Christian should.

[all_the_gifts]

Nikolaos is beyond outraged when Mal just blunders past him, and his neck twists to follow him as he starts toward Melanie. The girl stumbles backward a few paces, because despite Orisa's reassurances, she doesn't want her blood anywhere near a human, dream or no. Niko's jaws gape wide, ready to do what jabberwock jaws do… and then the captain stills, and Aziraphale tells him to stop. Niko pauses, his fangs a foot from Mal's back, then reluctantly withdraws with an angry huff of air that ruffles the man's shirt.

Melanie glances down at Mal's outstretched hand, frozen in place as if a spell has been cast (which, she supposes, it sort of has been), then shifts her focus to Aziraphale. The sword and wings are gone, and the second loss is disappointing, but he doesn't seem hurt so much as just bothered, and that is reassuring. She feels a little bereft when Orisa goes back to Aziraphale, but it's short lived because he picks her up, next, the wound on her arm healing in an instant, the blood gone as if it had never been there in the first place. She puts her arms around Aziraphale's neck, and Nikolaos lands on her stomach in the shape of a much smaller owl than before.

"He is an angel," Melanie says, looking down at Mal. It's not pleasant, seeing him locked in place down there, but she doesn't know what else Aziraphale could have done. Part of her wants to say more, to try and explain, but she's starting to wonder what the point would be. Nikolaos was right. He just doesn't listen. She frowns down at Mal, then turns to tuck her face into Aziraphale's neck. "Can we go?" she asks quietly. "I think we should go."

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale spares Mal a very nearly contemptuous glance at the mocking, too-familiar tone of 'angel' - only Crowley can call him that, thank you very much, and he's been known to punch people for the infraction - but it's hardly important now. The man is angry, that is no surprise - and Aziraphale doesn't like having to revoke anyone's bodily autonomy, but he wasn't really left with any other choice.

He hugs Melanie close, feeling an intense warmth for her in spite of everything around them, and letting that warmth spread a little to her. "Of course," he murmurs.

He shifts her to one arm, a rather difficult task when he is also supporting the weight of a large ball python and a very fluffy owl, and lowers one hand to make a dismissive, inconsequential gesture at the man behind him. He would never be so cruel as to let the man wait the dream out frozen like that - he'll make his own misery sure enough.

He releases Mal with the gesture, and in the next moment he, Melanie, and their companions are all gone.