spam; the last journal post
[Getting on board was a moment of chaos. He remembers turning a corner, expecting to find fur and blood in his mouth, expecting maybe to get torn up in return, expecting maybe a bullet from above to take him down, too-
But instead he's somewhere metal, somewhere that smells of strangers and strangeness, and he's bleeding a trail but he runs for safety anyway. If there is any. If there are doors, anywhere, that he can open without changing back, because this has to be the FBI's work and so long as they think he's just a wolf, maybe they won't slit him open and poke around inside.]
[ooc: Lark is a wolf, for now. He'll have to change back sooner or later even if he doesn't want to, so feel free to tag him as human or wolf, just lemme know which.]
But instead he's somewhere metal, somewhere that smells of strangers and strangeness, and he's bleeding a trail but he runs for safety anyway. If there is any. If there are doors, anywhere, that he can open without changing back, because this has to be the FBI's work and so long as they think he's just a wolf, maybe they won't slit him open and poke around inside.]
[ooc: Lark is a wolf, for now. He'll have to change back sooner or later even if he doesn't want to, so feel free to tag him as human or wolf, just lemme know which.]

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He's about to say there are other werewolves aboard, but he holds off on that for just a minute. It might not be his information to give out, really. All the same, he can understand Lark's point, too.] I understand that it's not easy. But I hope you can understand that this place is a prison, even if it's an unconventional one. What it isn't is a life - or death - sentence. The point is to get you out of here, trust me.
But even I have to admit that the Admiral's a shitty boss, sometimes. And sometimes, the wardens make mistakes. We're - well, most of us - are only human, but we are doing our best. We genuinely want to help.
[He gives a little one-shouldered shrug, tries to smile a little, at the roundabout thanks.] And there are teenage girls on board whose delicate sensibilities you probably shouldn't be offending. [It's definitely a joke. He's pretty sure they have all seen naked men before.] You want a few more things? There's laundry one floor up.
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[The bit about the girls makes him laugh and nod, wincing a bit] I kept wishing for a fig leaf. Your clothes are a much better fit than that, though; I'll try to replace them, have them back to you whenever you need them again.
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Usually, though, people are dangerous here because something's made them dangerous. There are... things happen. We call them floods. They can affect how you act, or how you think. Who you think you are, even. [So he might as well admit,] I was a werewolf, once, during one of them. For about a week.
[He grins a bit, sort of a knowing smile. He's felt like a piece of meat on parade before. He might not actually miss that part at all.] I'm glad they're getting use, other than my best buddy stealing them. [Okay, not that he minds that. At all.] That's fine. If I need 'em back... you'll probably notice.
I can ask the Admiral for some of your own, though, too. Or any warden can. So you don't have to wear someone else's. Usually requests go through pretty quick, but sometimes not. Depends on his mood.
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I don't want to use your clothes when you might need them again, but- I also don't want to owe anyone anything. Especially the Admiral. [A sheepish shrug] That must seem ridiculous I know.
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But a little terrifying, too. [He remembers wanting to reassure people that he wasn't an evil creature. Most people had been pretty accepting, actually, so it had turned out well, all said and done.
When Lark says he doesn't want to owe anyone anything, though, Steve shakes his head - and grins.] Buddy, I don't blame you one bit. [Steve Rogers has always hated owing anybody anything. He'dve rather killed himself working things out on his own than take charity, if Bucky hadn't managed to somehow give him charity without making it seem like that's what was happening.] Just keep 'em. If you think you owe me... pull KP on a lunch shift in the mess hall for a couple days, and we'll call it even.
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He chuckles at Steve's offer, and holds out a hand.] You have a deal.
[And he has to ask, has to know more about these other wolves:] Was there a pack for you here?
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Steve takes that hand and shakes it, and he doesn't have a superhuman grip, but it's still firm, like he means it. He does.] Good. Then we're square.
[Steve's mouth twists a little, but it's more in thought, at how to explain it, than anything else. He actually understands the concept of pack pretty well - he's kind of been adopted into the one that's here, without ever meaning to. But,] Not... at the time, except for my best friend. It was - everyone swapped worlds, if that makes sense. The pack that's here got all spread out. Funny enough, the guy who's normally a werewolf ended up in the stars and stripes, and his best friend swapped places with mine.
It was a really strange flood. My first one, actually. They're not all that crazy.
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How did the wolf like being that guy? [nodding at the uniform in the poster]
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You know... we don't talk about it much, [he says, almost thoughtful.] I guess - I know what he went through, if he was me. I wouldn't wish that on anybody. [A small shrug.] But he did just fine with it, at the time. He's a good guy - a real good guy. High school, though - still just a kid.
[Not that Steve has any less respect for teenagers. Hell, not that he looks much older than that, right now, but that's the damn problem with being short and skinny.]
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[It is hard to think of Steve as being...well. If you go by Lark's world's version of WWII, then Steve would be in his eighties. But frankly it's hard to think of him as being any older than fourteen, between his tiny stature and his easy smile. Smiles are always loaded, like pistols, in Lark's circles.]
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[Yeah, there were comics, but everyone knew they were still based on a real guy. That's different.
And technically, he'll be ninety-seven this week, but he definitely remembers people thinking he was Bucky's kid brother for about... forever.]
So do all wolves feel like you do? Think like wolves, even when they're not?
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He sits back, thinking about that- it's a simple answer and a complicated one.]
Where I'm from, yes. My mind works the same way whether I'm a wolf or human, but if I stay a wolf for more than a few days things get...foggy. I think our brain chemistry get so completely rewired in the change that we become both things at once, all the time.
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[He considers that answer, though. It's an interesting one, but...] It makes sense, honestly. And I can't even say that it's a good or a bad thing, but... [Have that sly grin again,] I can't imagine how you ever managed to keep enough patience to handle working in a courtroom.
[He actually respects that. Quite a lot. Arguing the law isn't his job, but he respects that law, and the people that work within the system, even if it's not perfect.]
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[Mostly death.] You'd be surprised how smoothly things go with a client when they suspect you really will kill them in their own prison cell.
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I am vaguely familiar with the tactic. [A guy like Captain America? Yeah, you put him nearby, and a lot of people are willing to talk, just to miss the opportunity to meet his fist. He doesn't always like using that kin dof tactic, but sometimes it's necessary, and he'd rather scare people into talking than let innocents suffer because they don't have the information they need to stop something from happening.] It's pretty reliable.
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...Yeah he's thinking the poster is propaganda but the inspiration behind it is real.]
Have you ever learned something you didn't necessarily want to know, using it? I represented a drug pusher once who felt the need to tell me all about how his mother, a former stripper, went from being incredible to...well. The decline of a stripper-mother isn't something I bargained for.
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[He shrugs a little.] Most of the guys I've nabbed were fanatics. They don't break down like that, they're too mired in what they believe to go into the rest of it, too busy spitting in your face. I've got a couple of people, back home, though - when I find them and get them talking, I'm not gonna want to hear what they've got to say, but I'm gonna make 'em talk, anyway.
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How often do you have to deal with fanaticism?
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[So, there's that, by which he means all the time. But,] Turns out, they weren't the worst the Germans had to offer. My mission was to take down the ones that were worse, and make sure the world didn't know about them.
I'm still working on that one, these days.
[Plus, there was Loki. He's definitely some kind of fanatic. Or something like it.] Makes organized crime look pretty damn civilized, sometimes. I don't imagine you've got it much easier, though. That's its own rats' nest, isn't it.
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I'm surprised it's still a work in progress, though. In my world we have neo-Nazis but they're mostly just kids clawing around for somewhere to put their anger and confusion.
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[He shakes his head.] We've got them, too. Plenty of kids - and men - who don't know what it was like, who don't even know what the word Nazi means, because they weren't even born when the Germans marched across Europe. They're not what frighten me, not really.
[Although they bother him, they bother him a lot. But so do a lot of things.]
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The real challenge is the opposite. The world thinks I'm a defense attorney, bought and paid for by the mob. They think I might be a gangster myself. [He is. Just...not the kind they think he is.]
Without this group you're hunting down, what's going to be the next big threat? [Because there always is one.]
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[He considers that, letting out a breath.] I don't know. Honestly? Part of me's worried it's gonna be another alien invasion. Most of me thinks it's gonna be on the home front, though. There's plenty of messes left to clean up. There always will be.
Whatever it is, we'll meet it and do it one better.
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--Did you say aliens?
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He makes a face, laughing a little.] Yeah, I know how it sounds. About two years ago, someone named Loki - different alien - decided Earth should be his personal empire. He opened up a portal into New York, let his army of Chitauri through.
That didn't go over so well with the rest of us, you can imagine.
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