goneawayworld | Not Sleeping Like a Dog

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Not Sleeping Like a Dog

Who: Sirius and Open
What: A great big “dog” sniffing around the Rig. Come and get any much needed therapy dog cuddles and a much more understanding dog than most-- or just find him shapeshifting.
Where: About the rig
When: Night, prior to the Adverse Rig Event
Warnings/Notes: References to imprisonment and dealing with the effects of that. There will be talk of murder and probably PTSD flashbacks in the thread with Remus. Smoking in the thread with Saturday. Will add more here as needed.

I can switch to actionspam if you prefer that.

A. Padding Around (Open)

Sirius couldn’t sleep. Considering he wasn’t welcome in his room and also that he’d taken to spending his nights as a dog lately, this wasn’t surprising. Sirius first started his nightly wandering of the halls as his usual self, then turned into his Animagus form. It was easier to be a dog, less painful, and the smells were far more interesting.

He also had the vague idea that if he were caught like this, he might be in less trouble. Or he might be in more. He’d find out once that happened.

He didn’t check out any rooms just yet. He was just wandering around and getting a mental layout of the place. If anyone approached him, he’d wag his tail and walk slowly toward them. Just a normal, friendly dog. Granted, this dog was huge Newfound-like dog, the size of a short person. Black and shaggy, he could be either terrifying or adorable, depending on one’s view.

Unless they happened to catch him while changing back to Sirius Black, as he sometimes did. In which case, they’d just get a sheepish grin.

B. I Solemnly Swear I Didn’t Betray Our Friends (Closed to Remus)

To say it had been a long day was an understatement. Sirius longed to sleep. And they had actual beds here. On the way to his room he imagined what it would be like to have a nice, restful night in peace and quie--

He stopped just inside of his room. He knew he’d have a roommate, of course. He just didn’t think it’d be…

“Remus,” he said quietly. “This is your room?”

The last time they’d talked had not gone well. It’d been pretty close to explosive, really. Sirius had little hope that this time would be better.

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"Might be a use for you, yeah." Saturday gives him a considering look. "The dog trick... but you sure you're up to it? You look like hell, chummer."

It's a blunt assessment, but not intended as a hostile one. He's skinny and twitchy and by all accounts spent the past few years in some hellhole black site for naughty mages; these are all things that tend to make a person unreliable on a job. At least until they're back on their feet. Maybe he adjusts quick.

Sirius bristled at that. His back straightened and he looked Saturday square in the eyes. He might have spent the past year being starved and tormented but he still had his pride. This wasn't necessarily a good thing, especially during a conversation like this but some things just couldn't be changed.

"Really, I hadn't noticed," he said dryly. "Of course I am."

"No judgement. Basically they tortured you, yeah? Anyone would need recoup time after that." She shrugs. "If you say you're good, I believe you, just - we get caught, it's all our asses and then some."

Truth be told, a part of her already thinks there's too many people involved; the plan has got a bit out of hand already. But also - it is all their asses, no matter how many people are involved. She can't tell fellow captives not to rebel, and she isn't gonna. They have to make their own risk assessments.

Sirius looked uneasy when Saturday just outright said he'd been tortured. Probably because it was the truth. But taking a moment to consider however briefly just how wrong his society was gave him the opportunity to actually use brain.

"There is another spell that could come in handy. It can keep people out of a room. Just how much a plan do you have?"

Saturday has been sailing blithely along under several wrong assumptions about Sirius' world, chief among them being that he'd fallen in on the wrong side of the law and his imprisonment was some sort of extralegal shenaniganry, the sort of thing she's comfortable with.

"Outline, mostly. Your basic distraction and infiltration, mostly aimed at testing defenses and figuring out what we need to get further in. And where to find what we're looking for, which I figure oughta be all their research on the Stuff an' the control panels for the friggin' shock collars."

Sometimes all all it takes it is several wrong assumptions to uncover the truth.

Sirius rubbed his chin. "You want the layout of the entire place? You might need to charm someone to get that part. So this is starting small." That was the best way to go about it. "Do you have a team already together?"

"Not the whole place, just enough to get where we need to go when the grab happens." Saturday takes a final drag off her cigarette and puts the box away, saving the last one for later. "I have interest and I have some people I like for the job. Infil team needs to be lightweight, but the distraction... the bigger and weirder it is, the better, you feel me? At least, that's my thinking. I figured anyway trusthworthy who wants in can be in on that, and oughta be. We owe Jorg some payback."

She thinks a moment, then continues. "Upstairs, they got these like... office pets? Dogs for people to play with an' stuff. The 'shifters we got, dunno if the one can do dogs an' the other, dunno if they can do friendly dog." A thought is causing the corners of her mouth to curve upwards in mischief. "Hey, does Jorg know you can shapeshift?"

Sirius thought he saw where this was going and he'd love to be able ot say they had no idea but...

"I'm not sure. It depends on how well these cameras work in the rest of the rig. And..." He hesitated. He didn't want to think that Remus might have told Jorgmund but it was a distinct possibility. "It's possible someone else has told them."

"They're pretty much disabled in every hallway we got access too, is my understanding." And she blesses Cayde every night in her prayers for finding out. "Real bunch 'a geniuses, these guys. Who d'you think told?"

Her eyes grow a little cold as she asks. If there's already a New Hire working with Jorg, well. That's a problem. Not the kind that can wait, either.

Sirius realized his mistake then. "I'm not sure anyone told," he said quickly but not too quickly. His tone was a tad defensive also efficient. As if he were in some kind of briefing. "If anyone has, it's only because they don't believe I'm innocent. I don't think they've told anyone, but I can't rule it out. I'm telling you because you should know any potential liabilities."

"What they believe about you doesn't excuse not thinking," Saturday says, a little harsher then she means to. "Jorg is the enemy. If there's a leak, it needs plugging. Who mighta told?"

Though, frankly, she's baffled by the idea that anyone could think a little murder was more of a big deal then kidnapping and enslavement of multiple innocent people. Unless they thought Black had murdered their mom or kid or something, and even then... she just can't really imagine anyone in their right mind not concluding that Jorg was the bigger threat.

There is, she supposes, the distant possibility that Black was a master con artist and she's being set up. But in that case he's almost certainly bitten off more than he can chew - and again, see above, it just seems unlikely.

Anger flared first as the instinct to protect came over him. Sirius loved fiercely and he'd fight just as passionately for it. But guilt hit him before he could say anything he regretted.

Well, anything else.

What sort of person was he, if he kept suspecting Remus? In his mind he thought of it as a possibility only because Sirius was a proven (to Remus) mass murderer, capable of anything and living with everyone. But as Saturday pointed out, Jorgmund was the enemy. Even the thought of Remus telling them was another betrayal. Wasn't it?

He didn't know.

His eyes went distant for a moment, remembering past arguments, and then his gaze turned colder. "I told you," he said firmly. "I'm not sure. I don't think they even did. I'm used to planning involving all potential risks," and then ignoring most of them. "That's the only reason I brought up the possibility. As of now, there is no leak for you to plug."

Saturday bites the inside of her cheek, thinks it through, and lets it drop.

"Mmm. You keep an eye on it, then." She's not willing to concede that there's no problem; a personal tension like this in a group is always a problem, and the entire Rig is edgy on a good day. That being said, he's owning it as his problem, which inclines her to trust he's not conning her and that he can handle his own trouble. "You assessin' that the risk is low enough for you to take a practice run at the upper floors, on paws?"

And then, before he can answer, her eyes widen, struck by a sudden thought. "Fuck - your shapeshifting, it's magic, right? Does it affect DNA, d'you think?"

Sirius made a note to keep an eye on her, especially since it was harder to keep one on Remus. And he made another note that there was one more sin to confess. But at least Saturday had dropped it for now. He nodded in acknowledgement of that.

...And then promptly became confused by the DNA question.

"Ah..." He really wished that he didn't know about DNA from science fiction and quick explanations from Remus and Lily. "I have no idea. Why?"

"Just - wondering about something one of the other shapeshifters can do. If you in dog form also have dog DNA, that could be useful." She's thinking back to her conversations with Alloran, trying to remember how exactly he'd described the mechanism working. "He'd be able to like, copy that form? But I think it needs actual DNA cause it's like, weird alien science and not magic."

Not that there's much practical difference between the two.

"I wouldn't risk it," Sirius said, which said a lot in and of itself. It was one thing to take risks yourself and another to just allow total strangers to do it without a good reason.

Unless it was really funny. Getting partially transformed as a dog and stuck that way for the rest of your life? Not so funny.

"I'd be more surprised if that form has DNA. It's advanced magic. There are plenty of ways for it to end very badly."

"Well, sure, there's a lot of ways any move we make could end real badly." Saturday shrugs. "We're trapped on a corporate post apocalypse hell-machnie with magic fake sciencey shock collars in our guts an' no real notion what we're dealing with or what each other's capable of or how our respective special shit might interact. Whole rig is a tinderbox, an' I ain't just talking about personality conflicts. Anyway, his name's Alloran, if you wanna talk to him about it."

Saturday's never met a risk she's not willing to talk with a little bit of thought and triangulation - if the reward is good enough. Rules, in her mind, only exist to make you think very carefully before you break them.

"So that's the basic pitch," she continues. "Kind of a playin' by ear thing for the moment."

"I think I already have," Sirius said. "I'm not too worried about those other risks. But I'd rather not see someone else stuck as half-dog and without any magic to keep them alive."

Sirius secured his spare cigarette. He'd find a time to enjoy it soon. "Let me know what you've decided."

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Not Sleeping Like a Dog

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