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Dorm Log: Scorching Summer Edition

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[It took a conscious effort not to let the question set him on the defensive and just storm off there and then. He couldn't quite stop his wings from curving around himself, half-shielding the rabbit that was the source of all this damn ass-hassle from view, and baring his teeth maybe just a little.

Still, it was pretty obvious that Vinnie was interested: he'd been gawking at that carcass like he'd never seen anything so entrancing. Odds were, his hunting had been going about as well as Char had guessed: not at all. Char forced his wings back out of the way and straightened up, still feeling thoroughly embarrassed about the whole gesture, but feeling an instinctive need to show a little dominant bravado.]

I been thinkin'. I already made up my mind that I wasn't gonna be no Charizard babysittin' service, and I ain't changed my mind about that. I ain't here to be nobody's mom.

[He finally turned his stare back over to Vinnie, though it still roamed restlessly, trying to steal glances at the flame burning on his tailtip every so often.]

...But you're hungry as hell, aren't you?

[While size of his tail flame hadn't diminished to anything alarming, it seemed to sputter and wheeze shakily, like it was gasping for breath. There was an indignant twitch in its tip as Char stated what was blatantly obvious to both of them, and it tapped the floor once... before giving up.

Vinnie wanted to deny it, just out of sheer, stubborn pride. Babysittin'... the word fell on his head like a dunce cap. Even when he tried to stand up straighter to reinforce the fact that no, he didn't need help from you, or anyone else, all that achieved was a loud, pathetic gurgle escaping from his stomach.

Dejectedly, the Vinnie's shoulders sunk and he crossed his arms in an attempt to cover his midsection. He just looked pissed as hell at himself for needing Char's help again. Again. To eat.

After a stretch of silent fuming, he finally forced the words out of his mouth.]

...I'm starving.

[It would have been impossible not to notice the rumbling of Vinnie's stomach, just like it was impossible not to notice the frustration that Vinnie's body language was radiating. Char hefted the rabbit in his hand thoughtfully for a moment, feeling it necessary to act like he hadn't really intended to let Vinnie have the stupid thing the whole time, then held it out.]

You're lucky I wasn't hungry. Look, don't go thinkin' this is charity, 'cause it ain't. You take a kill from me, you owe me one once you've got the hang of huntin'. I'd try to do it before you're a Venusaur again, if I were you.

[A challenge, he hoped, would be preferable to a handout -- and, with any luck, look more like he was being an arrogant prick to Vinnie instead of going out of his way for him. (Which he wasn't, by the way. He totally just happened to find that rabbit for his own reasons.)]

[The ruse worked entirely. Congratulations, Char.

Really too hungry to think rationally on why the other Charizard had been obviously idling outside his door with a dead rabbit conveniently on hand and uneaten, Vinnie blinked and stared at the kill with the tiniest blossom of hope fluttering inside him. It was a insistent, ravenous chime that was quickly drowning out the hesitation built up by his pride. Take it. Take it.

A glimmer of hesitation was in his eyes as he uncrossed his arms and reached out and - sparing an extra cautious glance at Char's face - took the rabbit from his rival's hand. Vinnie paused, suddenly feeling the weight of the small, dead body in his grip. It was squishy, fragile. It... disgusted him and enticed him at the same time, in a way that made his guts writhe.

Man up. You were top of the food chain now - this was nature. Don't make this into anything other than survival.

Unconsciously, he took a step back and swallowed. He'd just have to get used to this. For this week. That was all. Just eat it already Char was standing right there.

So that was when Vinnie more or less devoured the rabbit with the mad frenzy of a starving beast.]

[He could have said something about sticking to leaner meat like rabbits, try offering up a word or two of advice, maybe even try to soothe whatever moral quandry Vinnie was probably having about snacking on bunnies, but fuck it. Vinnie accepting this much was enough for him.

It was, for the record, sort of hard to hand over a kill and watch someone else eat it. Not because watching a dude tear into a dead animal was really super gross: that had become such a basic part of Char's routine that he didn't really bat an eyelash at it. Not because giving people your kills kinda tended to carry a weighted meaning: we are not discussing Charizard courtship at all ever in this conversation cough cough ahem. Purely just for hungry predator reasons -- the dominant dragon in him was sort of tempted to snatch it back and eat it himself, even if that kind of defeated the purpose of bringing it here in the first place.

He licked his lips, trying not to think too hard about it, and instead turned his gaze elsewhere. It probably wasn't too surprising that his eyes ended up back on Vinnie's tail. Okay, he was sorta curious to see how Vinnie burned when he wasn't wracked with hunger or bleeding profusely out the scalp or anything like that, sue him. A few cursory glances weren't enough to sum up a person that, honestly, he still knew so little about.]

You gettin' used to this yet?

[There may have been some tail wagging as Vinnie tore that rabbit to pieces. It still sputtered a bit, but it burned brighter now that he was actually getting some meat in his stomach. (Looked like that bit of scalp was scarring over, too.)

His wings instinctively tried to shield his meal from the other predator in the room, but as with anything Vinnie tried to do with his wing, it wasn't all that imposing when a great big chunk was missing from it. When Char posed the question, the once-Venusaur was halfway through wolfing down the rabbit's innards in the same way a normal human might eat a slice of watermelon, and glanced up.]

Even when I do eat, I feel sick after. I can barely make a breeze with my bad wing, much less try t'fucking fly. I still can't breathe anythin' but smoke so I'm fucked for fighting anything until I do.

[There was a truckload of frustration in his voice - not because all these things about his body were inconvenient, but because his own inexperience and shortcomings made him weak in a way that he'd never catch up. Definitely not in a week's time, at any rate.

He wanted to fight. He craved a rematch, that much was dripping from his voice. Vinnie, even as a Venusaur, hated feeling weak. This only became amplified as a Charizard where the urge to fight and claw through all male competition became this itch he couldn't scratch - an itch that gnawed away at him because the facts were plain to everyone.

No one would ever see past how weak he was. Red had told him that. He wasn't wrong, either.

Vinnie bit back into the rabbit, but his tail had slowed down its wag. The flame, while no larger than before, or any stabler, was spitting and bright hot.]

I hate it. But I'll deal with it.

[He... wasn't really sure what he wanted to say. Char had kind of just been expecting a whole lot of griping about how awful it was to have these extra limbs and how that annoying set of instincts only brought out the ugly side of him or worrying about accidentally burning the school down. It wasn't the first time that someone Char knew had become a Charizard, nor was it the first time that someone had thoroughly disliked being a Charizard... but it was definitely the first time they'd been dissatisfied because they weren't good at being a Charizard.

Char didn't want to admit how much of this hit home: he knew about having an insatiable hunger but lacking the skill to satisfy it. He understood perfectly well how it felt to be jabbed with the deeply-ingrained need to fight, to prove yourself equal, but not be able to live up to that longing. He knew -- oh god, did he ever know -- all about the self-disgust that hung over a guy's shoulders when he thought of himself as weak. As much as he resisted the notion of being anything like Vinnie at all ever, he genuinely understood what that flame of Vinnie's was saying.

He didn't doubt that Vinnie would cope -- hunting and fire-breathing were in his grasp, as far as Char could tell. He'd seen a whole lot of a Vinnie who was flirting dangerously with the concept of giving up over the months, but (this was nothing that he'd say out loud) he wanted to believe that some part of Vinnie still burned. That some amount of Charizard stubbornness would anchor itself in him enough that he'd stick with those long enough to figure them out. Even if his tail-flame was small and unstable, it still had the energy to spit, didn't it?

The wings, though... that was another story. Char wasn't even going to bother pretending that flight was going to be possible for Vinnie. Some part of him might have been vaguely disappointed; flight and sharing soul-flames were the best parts of being a Charizard, and it looked like Vinnie might miss out on both.]

'Course you will.

[No need to explain that; if Vinnie wrote it off as sarcasm... well, he was more than welcome to. Char shrugged, then flared his wings out (slowly; he wasn't trying to put on any threatening postures just yet). His coloration was pretty light, for a Charizard; the pale scars that had been left scattered across the membranes might have been hard to spot from a distance, but they were all still undeniably there.]

Bear with me for a second, alright? Look. There's a couple here that are a bit newer, Vin, but most of the scars on these things must've happened when I first evolved. They were still torn up when you arrived here. I had barely started managin' bein' in the air when you added one more to the pile.

[A little shake of one wing -- remember that Frenzy Plant, Vinnie? He did. It probably wasn't super necessary to remind Vinnie of things he'd witnessed in person, but Char didn't think too highly of the Red Team of several years ago: he sort of figured they were too high on their own sparkly friendship circle to even notice things outside of it like that.]

[Vinnie was tearing through rabbit hide with his teeth when his gaze was drawn to the scars in Char's wing membrane. There was recognition in his now-blue eyes for where they'd been punctured - at the time, admittedly, he didn't know to think much of it. There wasn't much time to think of it, really, when a pissed off dragon was charging at you. It wasn't as though Char would think twice about burning through his vine whips, if necessary. A fight was a fight - though it wasn't a fair one, he'd admit.

But he somewhat doubted that Char's reasoning for bringing it up was to guilt him. To get an apology for some wrong done over three years ago. It didn't feel like the case, anyway. Vinnie tilted his head slightly to better regard him fully, with his mouth still full of meat and fur.

Was he... empathizing? It kind of seemed that way. A sort of backwards way of encouragement, but for a Charizard, it kind of worked. It wasn't patronizing.

Char had been grounded before. It was an odd thought, like it should've been so obvious, but somehow took this long for him to actively realize. And Char had struggled, which was something Vinnie had always known in the abstract sense, but never knew quite enough about him to find a place to relate how or where, exactly.

Vinnie swallowed his mouthful and muttered a matter-of-fact;] Sorry. [Char could take that or leave it however he wanted.

He wiped some of the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand before adding;] How long'd it take, after that? T'fly normal?

Do I look like I need your fuckin' apology?

[Snapped irritably. It was very true that Char was inclined to butthurt grudge-holding, but if he tried to hold one for every mark that he'd gotten in a fight, his head would probably explode. Polite but empty words did nothing for him, anyway: if Vinnie had not cared three years ago, Char doubted he cared now.]

Took me too damn long to be at home in the air. Probably could have managed it sooner, but I wasted a whole lotta time on feelin' sorry for myself. I wouldn't be holdin' out hope of gettin' in the air with that, if that's what you're sayin'.

[Not exactly good etiquette on Char's part, but these kinds of things usually only lasted about a week -- maybe two, tops. If the Venusaur version of that wound had not healed in three years, then the Charizard version was not going to be serviceable in time for flight.]

Point ain't how quick I did it. I mighta been a pretty sorry-ass Charizard back then, and I mighta lost, but I gave you a run for your money, didn't I?

I didn't think you needed it. You've gotten by just fine without 'em so far. I just felt like giving one now, cuz... [Well, he wasn't sure. So in lieu of an explanation, Vinnie just shrugged.

It might've been true that he didn't care back then. But hindsight was a harrowing thing sometimes, when your understanding of a person came too late to take back the damage that was done. Perhaps it wasn't so much an apology for one deed as it was a sentiment that wished he could've tried to understand the other Charizard earlier.

From what Char was saying now... Vinnie took it in for a second. His wing wasn't going to heal, not that quickly. It wasn't what was important, though. He could still put up a fight, like this - it was the fight that mattered.

That message, well, resonated with Vinnie. Moreso now than when he was a Venusaur - but comparing himself to Char right now felt less like a condemning statement, more like common ground for two Pokemon that struggled to become more.

His tail might have started to wag slightly, in understanding.]

...Yeah. You always have.

[He couldn't understand whatever reason Vinnie had for tossing that apology out there; when no explanation was forthcoming, his attention returned again to Vinnie's tail, hoping to instead read an answer there.

That wag did not go unnoticed.

A little ripple of motion ran through his own tail, but no more than that -- the result of an unconscious desire to move but a very conscious, deliberate slamming of the brakes. He couldn't say he'd have believed Vinnie's words by themselves; he'd only seen the dismissive or disinterested side of Vinnie for the past few years, and there were few things Char took more personally than being ignored or brushed aside. But tails weren't liars, and everything he could see in Vinnie's tail backed up what he was saying.

It'd been a very long time since he'd felt like Vinnie's equal; his tail might have done a little more quivering, despite his best efforts to hold the damn thing still.]

Just... don't be so quick to write the whole thing off just because you ain't startin' out at the level you wanna be, that's all I'm gettin' at. It'd be nice if there's at least one person out there who doesn't completely hate bein' a Charizard.

[Vinnie didn't really seem aware of what his tail was doing. Even if he did, he definitely didn't know how to stop it.

He was definitely surprised by how downright encouraging Char was being right now - it was the first time he could ever figure hearing his rival sound anything but accusatory when telling Vinnie to shape up. And while he still hesitated to describe himself feeling glad for it, Vinnie appreciated this unexpected change.

His tail, however, felt much bolder about its feelings and decided to wag even more.

Being a Charizard was definitely not his favourite thing, but it was hard for Vinnie to believe that no one else had ever enjoyed it. He was too preoccupied with his instincts and cravings to focus on how quiet everything was around him - no, if anything, the roaring of his inner flame made up for it. All the frustrations of these extra limbs and fire hazards paled in comparison to his frustration at being weak. It wasn't that he didn't miss his old body, he was just too busy getting caught up in this new one.]

Hn. They don't even like flying? I've always wanted t'fly.

That so? Ain't something I'd expect to hear outta a grass-type. I couldn't convince Bulba to try flyin' for the life of me back when we swapped.

[He didn't bother making dumbass inquiries about if Sasha had ever flown Vinnie around or shit like that. Char hadn't had a good deal of experiences as somebody's flight passenger -- prickly Charmeleons were not good candidates for Pidge-back rides -- but it went without saying that there was a world of difference between using your own wings and borrowing someone else's.

For a moment, he was struck by the contrast between them; he was a little bit tempted to explain just how much he hadn't wanted to fly. How he'd have stayed a Charmeleon forever if he'd had any say in it, and how all that feeling sorry for himself had less to do with the sorry state of his wings and more the fact they were even there at all.

He kept it to himself, in the end. Char was a lot more inhibited when it came to this kind of thing: that open, eager wagging Vinnie's tail was doing just brought his own shyness out. He fell back on refusing to acknowledge any hint of friendliness, looking away from Vinnie's tail with a few flustered hints of red in his face.]

Look, would you tone the tail down a little? What the hell're you so happy about? Flyin' ain't even that big of a deal.

[Between wanting to fly and enjoying ice mountains, there was a bunch of things Vinnie liked that Bulba, or indeed most Grass Types wouldn't instinctually enjoy.]

How is it not? I can fly a helicopter, but it's not the same. Hell, I...

[He almost did mention that one particular ride he had on Sasha's back. Vinnie blinked, then paused to glance at his wagging appendage. Becoming aware of it seemed to slow it down some, but it was still swaying side to side in a faint rhythm. He furrowed his brows, trying to will it to stop - eventually it did, though more credit was due to his mood dissipating than an actual exercise in self-control.

The fire was mesmerizing, in its way. Vinnie had always been in tune with his floral self and the earth around them through his other senses, but their voices were never anything he could see. But here it was, a piece of his soul just flickering away, completely exposed. Without anything to shield it.

It was bright, struggling less now, but still a little smaller than average. He stared at the flame with a mixture of unfamiliarity and fondness.

Thinking out loud, Vinnie muttered:] ...Maybe I'm not supposed t'be like most Grass Types.

[Oh. Okay. Vinnie could fly a helicopter. It said a lot about this school that a big-ass flower toad could offhandedly mention this and also have it sound entirely plausible.

At least the tail had stopped that embarrassingly happy broadcast. Being able to see someone's tail was probably the most striking part of all these transformation incidents, in Char's mind. Not only did it let him see them in a light that he could effortlessly and intuitively understand, but it shone through in a way that they simply didn't know how to censor or disguise.

Vinnie didn't burn quite as formidably as Char had thought he would; he hadn't forgotten the indomitable force of will and conviction he'd seen in the years-ago Ivysaur, nor had be forgotten how much of a struggle it'd been trying to catch up to the Venusaur even after Vinnie had lost access to most of his moveset and ceased seeing a reason to particularly care about their rivalry. Somehow, he'd believed that if Vinnie had a flame, it would have outshone his own. Whatever setbacks it'd had, though, it was still bright and hot and... well, if he had to stick a word onto it, he'd probably say the sight was kind of encouraging.

The way Vinnie burned wasn't the only interesting part, though -- there was also the way Vinnie watched it. He was looking at himself the same way he'd look at an old friend that he hadn't seen in years.]

...Y'don't burn much like one.

[Maybe a little morbid to be mentioning how he expected a grass-type would burn, but at least he was speaking metaphorically for once. Char wasn't certain if Vinnie could read the things his soul-flame was saying; his observation was a vague one, but it was meant to coax more out of Vinnie, rather than provide a translation.]

[Vinnie quirked a brow at that observation, not entirely sure if this was some weird Char version of a compliment or not. He was tempted to ask exactly what he meant by it, but knowing the other Charizard's stellar track record of actually giving straight answers, he wasn't sure if it would achieve anything other than making him clam up again. What a backwards-ass pain.

He tilt his head again and put his hands akimbo in a stance that was the physical equivalent of asking for an explanation. Behind him, his tail swished curiously.

Give and take. This was how it worked, right? He couldn't expect something out of Char without giving something himself.]

Yeah? Well I spent a lot've time tryin' to be something I'm not.

Yeah. I noticed.

[Not much by way of elaboration in that response, but the body language accompanying it was starting to be less guarded; his wings were relaxed, folded away on his back, and the tension so deliberately keeping his own tail in place was starting to fade. He nodded his head down toward Vinnie's soul-flame.]

What do you see when you look at it?

[Char was asking for something personal, whether Vinnie knew it or not. He couldn't shake the sense that he was testing the edge of a boundary with it, even if he was pretty sure that the only lines he'd be crossing were ones he'd laid down himself. But when you got down to it, well... he couldn't pretend he wasn't curious.]

[That was... a strange question, and earned Char another raised brow. But, playing along, Vinnie glanced back over at the limb in question. How exactly was he supposed to consciously interpret what that subconscious fire was saying? Was he supposed to translate for it, or simply describe what it evoked in him?

The flame was smaller than he liked, but persistent - a bit like him. For a good while, Vinnie had been convinced that he'd fallen too far to be on the same level of any of his old rivals - even on the same level of his old teammates. That he had to burn up everything of himself for them just to make up the difference. That he was only worth the burdens he could bear. Then, he questioned the point of it all. Strength couldn't have just been for himself when so many more people relied on it.

But that had only broke him with time. Even if trying to pursue self-acceptance seemed greedy at first, but it wasn't until he could be happy with himself that he could truly stop being weak.

Leaving the team had bombarded him with a myriad of feelings, not the least of them being regret at being selfish. The consequences of that one action weighed on him - even if he was certain it was the right thing to do, Vinnie still questioned himself.

Looking at his tail now, knowing there was a fire that burned in him - no, that was supposed to burn only for himself, it was reassuring. This was a flame he had to make brighter and stronger and hotter in order to fight for what he wanted to protect. It was the only way - if he mindlessly expended himself, then that fire would just go out.

Back when he was a Ninetales, Vinnie could only see that fire as something isolating and arrogant. He couldn't conceive of a life that was silent to the needs around him. That wasn't the case anymore.

His head tilted up with a touch of pride and confidence, and his wings puffed out a bit.]

Right now... It's not something that's just destructive. It's something I need t'feed before I can be strong enough for everyone else.

...It's a start.

Edited (being anal) 2013-07-28 22:47 (UTC)

[Char hadn't been expecting much from Vinnie's answer. Something like "it's a fire, duh" or some shit like that, maybe. There had been little things over the past three years that had added up for him.

Waking up with hoarfrost and sludge still clinging to his wings, left behind because a fight with him wasn't worth finishing. A condescending lecture -- one that ended another fight that hadn't been worth having. An incredulous, disappointed "that's what this was about?" that had lead to nothing more than that guilty, anxious look back on Bulba's face. Three years of not worth bothering. It had been in Char's nature to keep those close, pinned tightly under his hand lest he leave himself vulnerable to them.

He was no stranger to being written off. He'd heard the same refrain plenty of times before. Ignore him, he's just trouble, a vicious brute, a dangerous animal, selfishly aggressive. He'd heard Sasha frowning on him and their species because being a Charizard just meant being an angry jerk all the time, seen Max swing from wildly indulging his ego to treating himself like a dangerous time-bomb that had to be distracted from those oh-so-dangerous dragon instincts constantly, seen Bulba spending a week anxious and self-conscious about that dangerous tail and the destructive power that a Charizard body contained.

Hell, he'd already bought into it himself: a soul-flame was just a weapon. A Charizard only cared about himself and only existed to tear things down. He wasn't crossing his fingers for anyone to really see anything other than that. Certainly not Vinnie, whose inner fire had smouldered down to embers in the pursuit of some sacrificing ideal that Char still didn't fully understand, other than that not worth bothering was apparently a crucial part of it.

And yet, this. With the natural, confident ease of a natural-born dragon, he raised his head and spoke a handful of sentences that showed that he understood. No matter how self-conscious Vinnie may have felt about his tattered wing or shrunken flame, he had grasped onto something deeply and fundamentally dragonhearted without even trying to.

This time, Char wasn't so good at stopping the sway of his tail. It wasn't the answer Char had thought he'd hear, but to hear it said with a head up and eyes that looked forward was somehow deeply satisfying. Again, he looked to the side, trying to bite down the inexplicable smile that wanted to fight its way forward and keep an indifferent look plastered onto his face.]

You better not slack off on feedin' it, either. S'your friggin' turn to catch up with me, Vin, and I'm impatient as shit.

I know.

[A matter-of-fact answer, but it was a truth that he held with an air of seriousness. Vinnie knew he had a ways to go still (and he knew that Char was impatient, too) and simply resting on these laurels would only set him back. That he had to make these first steps as a Charizard was a situation he didn't expect and wasn't prepared for, but he couldn't let that stop him. It was the only way to shut up the incessant itch in his head, after all. Knowing that he owed Char was a feeling Vinnie didn't want to keep around for long, and that meant paying him back. Plus, having a challenge to gun for somehow kept the irritability at bay a little bit.

Vinnie wiped his still-bloody hands down on his pants - this bit of preoccupation was enough for his tail to resume its wagging once again.]

I'm gonna try this hunting shit again. The sooner I'm not in your debt, the better.

Edited (i'm still anal) 2013-07-29 00:46 (UTC)

[He chose not to comment on the wagging this time -- it would have been pretty hypocritical to make remarks while his own tail was going, anyhow. That answer was the kind of thing he'd been hoping to hear; he wasn't sure how much of Vinnie's newfound spark was due to the hotblooded instinct suddenly worming its way into him and how much was because he was no longer tied to a team, but this conversation had been the least irritating one they'd had in... well, ever, probably.

Still, he had no plans to let it end on on a pleasant note; he was, after all, still not Vinnie's friend. Couldn't let those wagging tails give off the wrong impression, could he? Char shot Vinnie one of those familiar sharp grins and shoved his hands into his pocket, wings raising in a parody of a shrug as he turned away.]

Hey, no real rush. I could get used to havin' you beneath me. Gotta say, it felt pretty damn good to have you by the horns.

[Predictably, Vinnie bristled. He could feel his ears itching as he remembered the humiliation of being pinned, and his tail gave a disgruntled smack! on the ground to accompany the memory. Perhaps there was less animosity in him than before, but he was definitely still annoyed as he turned in the opposite direction and stalked off, determined to wipe that stupid grin off Char's face.

Before he did, though, Vinnie growled a traditional;] Oh, fuck you.

[That was Four Days Ago.

During that time, the asymmetrical, fledgling Charizard had put his wits to the test at figuring out how to hunt with not only a bright flame behind him, but also two wing-shaped bits of dead weight in his way. Doing anything in his dragon body was quickly out of the question - while Charizards were normally the fastest of the Kanto starters, that was mainly aided by their powers of flight. Without it, he was nothing more than a giant, lumbering, orange lizard.

So, hunting in a human body it was. He wasn't exactly a honed predator like that, either - hell, half the time he was still just watching his tail so it didn't burn anything down. Most days, Vinnie spent so long getting a single kill that by the time it was in his claws, he was starving. They were usually nothing bigger than a squirrel, either. He had no delusions that his successes were flukes - none of his attempts at tactics worked well enough to actually call himself a hunter.

Then, one day, he struck gold. Vinnie had been noticing fox kits playing around in the area for a while. Every time he tried to give chase, they escaped him - but he knew the woods well enough to know that they wouldn't be wandering too far from a den.

For the next several hours, he scoured the forest for their home. It was a fortunate thing that he still had a lick of patience, because that one task required going through the woods with a fine tooth comb. Finding it was worth the effort, though. Once he knew they were all inside... they were easy prey.

One he ate on the spot. The rest, he piled in his arms and walked straight over to Char's dorm.

Vinnie had never been great at remembering how to knock on doors, but he was given pause outside of TD-02. Char was, admittedly, top male on this turf right now, and stepping the line into his territory was grounds for pissing him off. That was a fight he wasn't prepared for quite yet.

With his arms too full and his brain too dumb to try knocking with his elbow or something, Vinnie just stood outside and shouted.]

HEY, CHAR!

[Char had been content to give Vinnie space after that initial dead rabbit; independence was a big deal for a Charizard, and it was mighty hard to foster a sense of self-reliance with somebody hovering over your shoulder. Besides, he had plenty of better things to be doing with his days. Vinnie'd come whenever he was ready.

Even knowing that, he hadn't exactly prepared himself for the muffled sound of a hollering asshole right at his doorstep. Rasputin was the first to try to answer the door (this consisted mostly of covering the whole door with his big spidery ass and making overeager rustly clicky noises), but after a brief delay to pry him off and order him back to the safety of his closet, Char was swinging the door open irritably.

Honestly, he expected the yelling to be the precursor to a challenge: one did not usually have another male at the doorstep of his territory shouting for him to partake in a pleasant little tea social. If his greeting was a little sharp as a result, and if he was perhaps a second too slow to observe the limp lumps of orange in Vinnie's arms, then surely this could be understood.]

The hell are you doin' here?

[By way of reply, Vinnie held out the four fox kits in his arms. Some had slashes and others, crushed skulls and broken necks, but they were dead as could be. Blood still stained Vinnie's hands and some smudged across his face and chest - he still hadn't figured out how to wear shirts, somehow. They weren't a big priority when he never felt cold.

This was a gesture he felt completely serious about, and yet he couldn't quite stem the feeling of pride from having accomplished something. As such, Vinnie's tail was wagging furiously behind him as he stared, stony-faced, into the other dragon's eyes.]

I'm paying you back. Take'em.

[The irritated look on Char's face slowly faded as he took in all of... this. The lack of shirt wasn't really disconcerting, since he'd lacked one the other two times that Char had encountered him. Nor was the blood. A predator tended not to be too weirded out by the inevitable messiness of taking down your own meals. It wasn't such a bad thing that Vinnie wasn't here to try and challenge his territory, and he wasn't disappointed to be getting paid back or anything.

But... that was a lot of prey. And a whole lot of tail wagging. Char had sort of expected he might have, like, a dead vole or especially trusting pigeon or something left at his doorstep at some point, but this...? This was not quite what he thought he'd be getting.]

I don't need that much.

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