redshiftrp | // video; open

[ Angel's feature's flicker onto the screen, black-eyed, black hair, those strange blue markings that adorn her body down her left side and right horn, that telltale hint of fur that appears across her shoulders, her neck, collar-like. Decidedly, completely, not human. ]

Hi. There has never been an easy way to have this conversation so I am just going to jump into it. I'm a monster. [ Her long ears flick, pricking to sound, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. Her thick, black claws that come to flat ends tap against her cheek. ] It's a long, long story. But the sum of it is pretty straight forward, there was a God. She took people like this place takes people, she turned us into things. I became this. I wasn't always this, nor was I chosen for any grand reason. But now I am capable of smashing through concrete with one kick, I can lift ten or twelves my own weight, and I weight a lot, despite my size.

But that and the horns isn't why I call myself a monster. I'm a monster because I crave human flesh. I can and have eaten living people. I didn't get a choice about it. I can sate it when things are good. Raw meat of animals will do the trick. But, if I put it off any meat at all long enough, the hunger becomes ravenous, and I get taken over by this... this rage and hunger. I might - care for you, want happy things for you. But when I am like that? I'm not your friend. I'm not human. I'm not... not me. I can manage it, but this place just wiped my memories for a few days, so I can't make that assurance it will never happen.

So this is my permission. The day that happens, and you can't trap me or stop me, you can put a bullet in my head. I won't cling selfishly to a life where I am hurting someone to fuel myself. I'll only regret it when I come out of it. If it's me or someone else, I'll always pick for someone else to live over me hurting someone just because I am like... this.

[ She clears her throat, because what else is there to really say? So just... ]

... Do you think Tequila is bad for the Reindire? I keep feeding them mine.

[ #nailedit ]

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[ The feed crackles between them. Her black eyes blinking, the brief backlight shines when the screen light flickers her eyes golden-bright. An animal in the dark, no matter how she could talk otherwise.

Though, really, there is only one thing that matters. ]

Thank you.

[ Her ears flick, ears tilting back and then forward again. ]

Hrm. Alright. I'll try and feed them some more water. They seem to really like the tequila though.

You're welcome.

[ It feels weird saying that when the thing he'd done to earn her thanks was offer to kill her. Ben hesitates, between his discomfort and desire to end the conversation, and needing to take many more precautions than just this. In the end, the latter wins. ]

I totally get posting this message and getting your worst case scenario plans in order, but an ounce of prevention is a pound of cure and all that. I wasn't lying, when I said I'm probably capable of killing you. I was born with powers that mean it's easy for me to kill people. Like, physically. But it's -

[ He breaks off, swallowing, taking a moment to compose himself. From what she'd said, Angel will probably understand well enough why he's having some difficulty getting the words out, why his voice is rough with emotion that he's carefully holding in check. ]

But it isn't easy. I... have hurt a lot of people, and didn't get a choice about it, and I'd really really like to not have to again. So what can I do to prepare so we never get to the worst case scenario and you don't have to die and I don't have to kill and we're both happier? Are there tranquilizers that will work on you? Could we build some kind of a cage or - restraints, I don't know? Come up for a codeword when you feel your control slipping? A schedule for - how often you need to eat?

[ she wants to hold him how dearly and completely she wants to hold him. Wrap him up and tell him it's alright, she understands. She understands how hard it is to know this thing lives inside of your body, makes you hurt people because you hurt. What it takes out of you. How little of yourself is left every, single time.

Until she catches up with a word, her breath hitching. ]

No cages. No - no - cages. Please. I'll lose my mind, if I'm caged.

[ she swallows down hard, calming herself. No one is saying it has to happen, he'll listen, she's sure. ]

A schedule and a safe word might be a good idea.

[ Ben thinks about Vanya, with an awful little lurch of nausea, remembering his siblings, shutting her in that vault. The way she'd screamed and pounded at the door. Luther, stopping any of them letting her out. Himself, still a ghost, unseen, unheard, unable to do anything at all, the same way he had been for so many years.

There's no hesitation at all in his reply: ]

Got it. No cages.

[ He wonders what other alternatives there might be, for stopping the process if it has already started. But for now, he is going to focus on pure prevention, and on topics that are less demonstrably upsetting for her. ]

You know your needs better than I would, obviously, so maybe take a couple days and come up with one, and a phrase or a word that'll let people know if things are getting bad?

[ with his assurance, she settles back down, swallowing as it's nodded in understanding. He knows. He understands as much as needed to be.

Okay. ]

I will work out a phrase. I can tell you a couple of things now - there is a guy. His name is Connor. When he touches me, or, talks his native language to me, it calms me. It can be soothing if it's just a rage spike, and not a hunger spike.

Connor. Cool. He'll be my first call, if it comes down to it.

[ Then, less because he thinks it is really of great importance to the safety of the Anchor and more because he can't help being curious, Ben asks, voice a little more lighthearted, with a touch of humor: ]

Is he your, uh... something?

[ If Connor is able to calm her he must be something to her. A brother (by blood or otherwise), a friend, a lover, a very close coworker? Ben can't help wondering. ]

After him, Charles Smith and Jacob Frye. They know me just as well as him -

[ She tries not to smile though, at his question. It's silly, she feels silly, Connor is going to hear her and give her a look for being a doofus about him again. ]

He's my... my most important person. My treasure. [ She can't say the word, for many many reasons. But he is hers and she regards him first in everything. Her choice most especially. ] I never got to choose anything very much in my life. But I got to choose him, and he chose me. Does that make sense?

[ Ben takes a moment to quickly jot down those names - less because he thinks he will need to look them up in a moment of crisis and more because the act itself of writing them down will help him remember. ]

Connor, and if not him, Charles or Jacob. Gotcha.

[ Unlike Angel, Ben makes no attempt not to smile. It's soft, satisfied, no mockery in it at all. He likes that she explains it like that - not conventional terms, no, but clearly ones that are accurate and deeply-felt. As someone with a fairly unconventional set of loved ones, who don't fit into the easy categories and labels, Ben gets that. ]

Yeah. It makes perfect sense.

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