Satisfaction with the explanation kept Ketch silent, and when Shae steeled herself and began, there was a loose translation of that resolve in the way Ketch drew himself one inch taller. Rapt upon the proceedings as Shae set the spell in motion, his head tilted in a sidelong study of her while the semblance of words wove it through the air around them like an ancient breeze stirred. There was power in it that pricked like needles of lightning across his shoulders, and when she collapsed he caught the weight of her as promised, lowering her motionless body to the ground, one hand solidly around her waist, the other cradling the nape of her neck. There was a tenderness in the handling that seemed at odds with the scars and roughness of his hands. He took the subtle glow cast by the onyx as promising and set his sights back on the door of the restaurant.
As warned, Shae appeared quite dead. The glow faded from the gem bare seconds after he set her limp body to ground, his eyes would be able to catch sight of his claimed target jerking in place below. Once more a glow filled the onyx. Below, in the restaurant, Shae filled the spaces left vacant in the man.
His eyes looked down at scarred hands. His reflection in the mirror behind the bar showed a pinched face. Thin lips started to smile.
"Hey, I said what the fuck was that about? Somethin' bite you?" Came a voice from one of the others nearby.
"Nah." Shae spoke with his voice. "Phone." Groping for a pocket to pull out the device and wave it slightly. "Gotta take this." He pushed up from his seat and started towards the door.
"You know you're not supposed to take personal calls." The other pointed out.
"Yeah, I'll be quick." More of a grunt as Shae cleared the man's throat. Cheap alcohol was on his tongue.
"Fine, but you owe me."
The man waved a hand over his shoulder as he left the bar, poking at the phone. The lock screen taunted. He stepped away quickly and held the phone to his ear before anyone could question it. "Yeah what the fuck do you want?" Gruff words as the man eased towards the alley. "You called me at this time of night just to tell me that? Are you nuts?" Around the corner of the alley where the ladder was still down and he dropped the pretense when out of sight.
Soon Ketch would hear the sounds of the man climbing the fire escape, sandy hair cresting the ridge of the roof.
With Shae temporarily translocated, Ketch was free to watch the action unfold inside the restaurant with untempered fascination, a shade of boyishness to it, that obsession with the inner workings of things, the parts that made the engine run?in this case, the way the blonde man jerked and then ironed out his motions and recovered as Shae took over. Brow furrowed for the exchange of conversation, Ketch watching the terse way mouths moved and body language to determine whether or not all was going as planned. And there was a short, relieved exhale when the man exited the building and stalked in the direction of the alleyway. As the top of the man's head bobbed upward, Ketch stepped a foot to the right, a clear path made for the circle and he just outside its perimeter.
Once on the roof, the man stretched and twitched. The weight of the body was foreign and ill fitting for the one who currently controlled it. A blink towards Shae's body was quickly veered away in favor of focusing on Ketch's face. Looking on her limp form was bound to cause some crisis of identity she'd rather not have. For the moment, the man stepped wide of the circle and began to pull out the contents of his pockets. Then a pause. "Do you need the clothes, too?"
Circumspect in his watching now, Ketch followed the man's every move, and when the blonde's gaze slipped over to Shae's figure and jerked back to Ketch's face, he made a quick translation in conjunction with the man's awkward twitches, found the muddy pair of eyes opposite him and met them steadily, limpid blue offered as a point of focus. An identity crisis at this juncture wouldn't do. A solemn nod offered while Ketch tried his damndest to suppress a sudden twinge of absurdist amusement. "The clothes would be helpful, yes. Not exactly how I'd have envisioned seeing you naked, but it's an interesting departure." Suppression failure. It came with a crooked smile.
Focus he did, and the twitching began to subside a shade. The amusement caused confusion when he read it in Ketch's face, but then the man snorted a laugh at the words that followed. The single snort turned into chuckles that were probably a jarring mismatch for the man whose face was more inclined to sneer. "Damn you, don't you dare tell Cianan and Antonia about this or neither of us will hear the end of it,
ever." First things first, the man was handing over phone, wallet, watch and any jewelry. Then he was stripping down. Shoes first, socks, then the shirt.. "I'm going to step on that circle. Wait 'til I sit up and start talking before you do... whatever it is you're going to do. I'd rather not risk something going wrong with me still in here, yes?"
It was jarring in a macabre, transfixing kind of way, and his own chuckle was added in a low reverberation. "I make no promises. But at the least, depending on what lies beneath," a pointed look at the dark rinse jeans the man wore, "you might be able to boast that your dick is in fact bigger than Antonia's. She'll be so upset," he almost beamed at the scenario playing out in his head but managed to corral his amusement in a lingering smile as phone, wallet, watch, and a thin gold chain were handed over. The rest of the accoutrements were shuttled into a pile with the toe of his boot, and Ketch offered a single nod in understanding of Shae?s directions. This route, so far, had been far more entertaining than he had expected. It added a comfortable sense of levity to a precarious situation, but the last comment saw a return to solemnity, when he answered, ?Yes, of course.?
The pants were the last to come off, and the man tugged the elastic of the boxers forward far enough to peer down them. "Damn, that's disappointing." Apparently what was to be found was not a challenge for Antonia's claim to the tallest pedestal. A snap as the band was released. "You got my hopes up for nothing, there." An exaggerated sigh as the man turned to step onto the space where the circle had been. As he did so, the markings flared to life. He froze in place. Over at the gem, the glow briefly intensified and then went out. Prone on the rooftop, Shae gasped violently for air as motion flooded into limbs that had been morbidly still. The sort of inhale one takes after nearly drowning, ragged. She rolled over to cough and wheeze.
Ketch did not venture a look beyond the minute extension of the elastic. Soon enough the effort would be redundant. He laughed outright, "That's usually my game plan. Get the hopes up and follow up with quick and decisive disappointment. I've found women really enjoy that," a little self-deprecating twist to his mouth, but he quickly became all business again once the man stepped foot inside the circle, and he twisted aside and dropped to a crouch beside Shae as she sputtered back to life. Fingertips landed lightly along one of her shoulders as she was wracked with gasps; it was a tracery of a touch, a simple footnote of presence as she rolled and tried to recover her breath. His other hand swept the sudden spill of her hair over one shoulder so she wasn't inhaling the ends of it as she recomposed. "Think I see the caveat to this method. You alright?" His hesitance to move suggesting he'd wait until she caught her breath and answered before proceeding.
When she caught her breath, some of the trouble was explained. She was laughing. His last comment had jarred it out of her and the mirth had carried over upon her return to her body. Nodding thanks for the assist with her hair, she pushed to a seated position with a wry smirk. "Sure." Her voice was a little hoarse from dryness, but with a few licks of her lips and several swallows that was gradually clearing up. "If you're suggesting that a bit of coughing is the caveat, I would like to point out the generally defenseless corpse I was until a second ago." Hands rubbed at her arms and then fingers combed roughly through her hair. A systematic check that things were where they were supposed to be as she settled back into her skin. "He's all yours."
Subtle relaxation around Ketch?s shoulders when it became clear that there was laughter interspersed in what had initially appeared to him as a struggle. Still, he was hawk-like in his attention until he felt satisfied that Shae was setting herself to rights. "Fair point, your return just looked more painful than the deadweight slump. Distracting to my incredibly chivalrous nature.? Hands capped his knees and Ketch rose slowly, catching her systems check in his periphery as he turned back to the man, throwing an addendum over his shoulder. "I have no onyx and I won't glow." No, his methods lacked some of the aesthetic beauty of her ceremony. Ketch curled and flexed the fingers of his left hand and then took one step closer to press his palm flat against the man's chest until he felt the slight give of the other?s sternum beneath. The location didn't particularly matter, it was just the most immediate swathe of bare skin. There was little in the way of flourish, and the shift happened within a span of blinks. A faint tremor ran the length of his body. Along exposed forearms, his skin slipped and slid over the reconfiguration of muscle and bone beneath. The planes of his face gave way to the pinched lines of the other man's and his eyes lost their clarity to a murky brown. Dark strands were washed blonde in a blink and shortened accordingly. Quiet, other than a few soft creaks and pops similar to those that came with a sudden twist of the spine, there was a single harsh inhale that drew fully of the air around him and Ketch was slow to let it out, eyelids blinking twice rapidly. Transformation complete, he swiveled to face Shae, and when he opened his mouth, it was the roughly accented tones of the blonde soldier that came out. "Done."
"Mm." Shae just nodded in response to his words, throat still a little dry and head still a little fuzzy for a clever rejoinder. She did, however, manage a bemused expression as he labelled himself 'incredibly chivalrous'. She was just wiggling her toes in her sneakers when he called over his shoulder. "Good." Drawled playfully in reply as she leaned aside to retrieve the mentioned gem. Wouldn't do to leave something that valuable behind. "I'd hate to think you only brought me along so you could copy my sense of style." Speaking of, she turned her attention to him as he moved closer to the statue of a man. Eyes drinking in the details of his methods much as he had done her own previously. Wince for those muted shifts of bone, and then she was staring at a set of twins. One dressed much like Ketch. "You know, transmutation is something of a specialty of mine." Tilting her head to the side. "I've got to say, that's damned uncanny." Shae gained her feet, took a moment to remember the weight of her own legs, and ventured forward. Once in range she rather shamelessly prodded at him. "Holds up to the touch too. Nice." Leaning back to squint at his new face. "This just with people or animals too?"
Shae's words filtered in as though through a dueling sound system while Ketch adjusted to the feeling of otherness within him, and a grin was slow to come, but come it did, revealing teeth with a brown sheen of coffee and nicotine stains. The man, it appeared, was more inclined to leer. "I'm just going to infer 'impressive,' from that, because it's a little more flattering. And given who I'm currently wearing, I'll take it where I can get it." Similar in mechanism to the outward shift, but slower to solidify, the flood of the man's internal landscape was still occurring. Ketch paused and went still here and there as snippets of thoughts and imagery roiled and collided with his own. A brow lift given for her prodding, and a look that was both challenging and amused. "It holds up, yeah. Tempt you to test the other aspects out and see if they're functioning? For scientific purposes only, of course." There was that leer, again, but it gave way to a chuckle touched with the warmth of his jest, and was probably not something the soldier did often. Momentary silence for her next question, then a tempered response. "Animals, too, but not often anymore. People were always where the money was where I came from."
The double vision was perhaps a bit much to bear in close proximity. Shae moved towards the circle of hex runes, found one in particular. A stomp and a twist of her foot erased it, changing the writing such that a line of markings previously dormant now flared to life. Stepping back, the figure of the man slowly began to be encased in ice. One hand raised to scratch at the side of her nose as her eyes shifted back to Ketch in that other skin. "Compliments are probably going to be scarce as long as you are wearing him." To borrow his phrasing. "You forget, I've been in there too. I wasn't inclined to get attached, nor do I think I need to know much more about the fellow than I've already gleaned. However, I won't stop your attempts at science if you wish to experiment with yourself." Smirk. "I'll only kindly remind you that while you're up here trying to banter with me he's expected back. Might want to get changed and get a move on before you have to lie with extra creativity to those inside." There was a bit of a pause then, her playful, energetic attitude diminishing. The next question asked a more sober affair. "Is the 'Ketch' I know your own skin?"
The leer he'd been wearing faded while he watched the other man's body ice over. Though Ketch really had no idea what to expect in the first place, for some reason the frosty glaze was on the farthest end of the spectrum. And again, a departure from his usual routine. So he was duly distracted while listening to Shae's incredibly thorough rejoinder, though one corner of his mouth quirked a smile, and this one was branded entirely his. "I'll forgo the solo experimenting for now," he said, as he reached for the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Boot and jeans were next, and he emptied the pockets once he had them in hand. He folded each article of clothing neatly and assembled it into a pile, laying his keys, cigarettes, phone and lighter atop. He cut a glance towards Shae and gave a short nod. "Not to worry. I can get creative with words sometimes," always prone to poor timing in his own social endeavors, the man somehow managed well enough in matters of business. Perhaps it was the sense of distance from one's self inherent in wearing another skin. He bent to tie his shoelaces and this time when his gaze strayed in Shae's direction, it remained a little longer, solid and honest. "It's the one I was born in, yes." He stood up again and backed a few steps away in the direction of the fire escape. "What're your next steps?"
During the course of his changing, the popsicle of a man continued to layer in ice. At last the encasing stopped. Rather than have him lay his things on the roof, she gathered the pile to keep an eye on it. His answer relaxed her regard and her smile slipped back into place. "My plan? Purloin one of your cigarettes and keep watch from up here while you get to work down there. Which reminds me." She shifted his belongings to one arm and reached into her pocket again. Out came a sliver of crystal which she offered to him. "If you keep this on you, we'll be able to communicate." Preparation, timing. She'd been thorough. As her arm extended the pillar of ice nearby flickered, once, twice, and then plainly disappeared from the rooftop. Only broken chalk lines remained to suggest anything had been there but a second before.
"Purloin," Ketch repeated, a grin for the antiquity of the word. Reminded him of the books he found strewn all over a cabin retreat he shared with two others outside of the city. "Have as many as you like. I'll consider it a usage tax or something for keeping watch." Another pace backwards stalled when Shae spoke again, and lips pressed together as he considered the crystal then he opened his palm. "Alright." The disappearance of the ice pillar, however, saw his entire arm slackening as his brows drew together. Four beats spent staring at the broken chalk outline before he ironed out his expression and slowly slanted a look back at Shae. Gimme fingers beckoned for the stone.
He wouldn't be the first to pick at some of the words she chose to use, though it didn't seem to phase her that he did so. Smiling like she'd just been handed ammunition, the crystal was deposited into his palm. It was warm to the touch, though that might have just been the remnants of her body heat. And then, as her hand drew back, her voice would sound like a whisper. ?Short phrases, twenty-five words or less. It can't relay longer messages.? Not actually a whisper, her lips weren't moving to speak. Only to smile. A projection of thought. Now she spoke and the difference was clear. "Go on, whatever your name is." Already reaching for his pack of smokes as she turned towards the ledge of the roof with a view of the restaurant.
It hardly even rated as a tease; there'd been warmth in it, even if some of it was for the reminder of the cabin that had attached itself to the word. Thin fingers closed around the crystal and instead of depositing it in his pants pocket, Ketch bent to tuck it in his shoe while Shae?s voice swirled around his consciousness. He froze altogether once he looked up and realized what was happening. It wasn't her fault, just another inopportune memory sailing in from left field. Shoulders rolled through his discomfort and Ketch gave her a short nod. Sounded like a magical approximation of Twitter. He felt fairly certain she would not get the reference. Standing up once more, Ketch turned and dropped onto the first rung of the ladder. "Terence Roark," he offered with a tight smile. In the next moment he vanished. Shortly thereafter, she'd find him stalking back towards the restaurant, swinging the door wide and pausing at the bar before moving over to chat with one of the men lingering near the door to the back room.
He was right to assume she wouldn't have known a thing about Twitter. Thus far, somehow, no one had actually bothered to show her the internet at all. It was probably for the best that she didn't know about it. Probably better that she didn't know the fancy phone that she had been gifted with was set up to be able to access it. They'd lose her for days at a time. "Terence." She murmured quietly as her lips closed around the end of one of his cigarettes. The lighter was neglected, instead she curled her hand around the unlit end for a moment. Light flared briefly, smoke curled past her fingers, and she moved her hand aside to inhale from the lit smoke. Crouching low against the ledge, her eyes tracked his progress.
