[ His mouth twists to one side and he doesn't seem ready to be wholly convinced of that - better than nothing.
He misses her, is what it comes down to. He forgot how much he missed her.
He wishes he didn't sometimes dream about her asking him not to go.
Kahlil leans back in the booth, looking out the window. Skittering little feet come around the aisle again, holding something in her small hands. She sets it on the table: a garden gnome. ]
( Agree to disagree. Jack just has a stronger than usual inability to let go sometimes. He's stubborn like that, and just mentally fucked up enough to accept a compelling delusion. At least, he is if it's her. )
Thanks. ( He says politely to the horrifying bones of a child. ) Just, um. Don't touch the ones with the green hats. They bite.
( It occurs to him he legitimately can't remember the last time he interacted with a child, or if he's even any good with kids. He likes them, sometimes.
...Sometimes.
The not obnoxious ones.
This one seems okay, considering she's a skeleton.
It also occurs to him that this is kind of a terrible place for a kid and... also most dogs. Other cautionary warnings start flaring up in his mind one after the other. The most pressing one: )
Also... don't go near the dumpster, the raccoons are pretty intense. Most of them are probably okay, but Rita might... ( What's the best way to put this to a kid? Probably not the way he actually does, aka bluntly blurting: ) Rita might try to eat you.
Rousma stares up at Jack, then to Kahlil who looks back at her. ]
Rahk-oon?
Like large ganal, with masks and sharper teeth.
[ She nods, then quickly scurries back under the sleeping dog. Its body shudders, and to look close at it Jack might notice something unnaturally moving beneath its skin before it opens its golden eyes again.
( Frankly, watching her squirrel her way into a dog corpse is just as unsettling as watching her bones jangle around. At least once it's on she's back to being super cute, but it's going to take a while to shake that mental image. )
Yeah. ( Said with the casual shrug of one shoulder. ) She's- well, technically she's not really a raccoon. It's kind of funny, actually, I call her my dog back home but she's definitely not a dog.
( Man, he misses her.
Wait. This is the Horizon. Technically, couldn't he...? )
( He sounds... mostly confident. At the end of the day, Rita's hardly a domesticated creature. She just happens to sort of listen to Jack a solid sixty-ish percent of the time. )
But either way, she's not real, so.
( You'll probably be fine.
He's less certain about Rousma, who even knows how that interaction works? One imaginary thing eating another, is that permanent or just as free of consequence as it is for them? Better to not find out, probably, and not let her wander around the dumpster alone.
If Kyle agrees, Jack will lead the pair of them outside and around the building. From the ether, he produces a hefty bag of dog food, which he gives a loud and pointed shake. Along with it, a short doggy whistle, and a call of: )
Rita! C'mere girl! Dinner!
( From beneath the building comes a stirring. A rumbling. Two massive paws bigger than Clydesdale hooves emerge, followed by a sniffing snout — and then bursting from behind the dumpster comes Rita in all her glowing green glory. Nine or ten feet tall were she to stand, two scaly wings folded against her back, practically more dragon than raccoon.
He splits open the dog food bag and dumps a hearty amount directly into a bucket. Rita grabs massive fistfuls in her thumbed paws and begins to shove kibble into her maw, grumbling and growling contentedly. )
Kyle, this is Rita. Rita, this is Kyle. He's good, okay? Kyle is friend, not food.
( If Rita absorbs any of that, she gives absolutely no indication. )
[ He's not sure what he's expecting. He recalls raccoons from old memories. Chores at a shared house. Taking a plastic bag of garbage outside, dragging a trashcan to the street. Getting startled by what at first he assumed was a cat, but turned out to be twice the size. It hissed at him and skittered into the dark.
This is... not a raccoon or a dog.
To be fair, Jack did tell him that...
His eyes have gone a little wide as he shoots a look at Jack, then back to the dragon-raccoon-creature. ]
Nice to meet you, Rita... [ Does she understand English? ]
( Rita lifts her eyes away from the pail of dog food, and levels them at Kyle long enough to let out a slobbery hiss in a way that isn't outright threatening, but also isn't... very pleasant. It could mean anything from if you come near my food I will immediately claw your eyes out to who cares, fuck off to hello.
He has no fucking clue.
Rita goes back to dunking kibble in a nearby puddle and stuffing it into her mouth.
Jack shrugs one shoulder, and offers an optimistic-sounding: )
I think she likes you.
( At the very least, she doesn't dislike him. That... that would be way more obvious. )
[ He doesn't have any particular animal handling skills, so - he's putting his trust in Jack right now with that response.
There's something almost... cute about the way she washes her food. And despite the slobbering, something strangely and horribly beautiful about her wings. The green is much more saturated than he's ever seen, but it faintly reminds him of the tahldi back in Basawar, a coloration that isn't found in furred beasts in Nayeshi that he can recall right now. ]
I'll remember to bring her food next time. [ French fries and bacon. Or whatever these little pellets are. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ His mouth twists to one side and he doesn't seem ready to be wholly convinced of that - better than nothing.
He misses her, is what it comes down to. He forgot how much he missed her.
He wishes he didn't sometimes dream about her asking him not to go.
Kahlil leans back in the booth, looking out the window. Skittering little feet come around the aisle again, holding something in her small hands. She sets it on the table: a garden gnome. ]
It sneaky sneaks in the snackies.
no subject
Thanks. ( He says politely to the horrifying bones of a child. ) Just, um. Don't touch the ones with the green hats. They bite.
( It occurs to him he legitimately can't remember the last time he interacted with a child, or if he's even any good with kids. He likes them, sometimes.
...Sometimes.
The not obnoxious ones.
This one seems okay, considering she's a skeleton.
It also occurs to him that this is kind of a terrible place for a kid and... also most dogs. Other cautionary warnings start flaring up in his mind one after the other. The most pressing one: )
Also... don't go near the dumpster, the raccoons are pretty intense. Most of them are probably okay, but Rita might... ( What's the best way to put this to a kid? Probably not the way he actually does, aka bluntly blurting: ) Rita might try to eat you.
no subject
Rousma stares up at Jack, then to Kahlil who looks back at her. ]
Rahk-oon?
Like large ganal, with masks and sharper teeth.
[ She nods, then quickly scurries back under the sleeping dog. Its body shudders, and to look close at it Jack might notice something unnaturally moving beneath its skin before it opens its golden eyes again.
Kahlil gives Jack a funny look. ]
Rita?
[ You name your raccoons? ]
no subject
Yeah. ( Said with the casual shrug of one shoulder. ) She's- well, technically she's not really a raccoon. It's kind of funny, actually, I call her my dog back home but she's definitely not a dog.
( Man, he misses her.
Wait. This is the Horizon. Technically, couldn't he...? )
I could show you, if you want.
no subject
Also
He squints. ]
Will she try to eat me?
no subject
( He sounds... mostly confident. At the end of the day, Rita's hardly a domesticated creature. She just happens to sort of listen to Jack a solid sixty-ish percent of the time. )
But either way, she's not real, so.
( You'll probably be fine.
He's less certain about Rousma, who even knows how that interaction works? One imaginary thing eating another, is that permanent or just as free of consequence as it is for them? Better to not find out, probably, and not let her wander around the dumpster alone.
If Kyle agrees, Jack will lead the pair of them outside and around the building. From the ether, he produces a hefty bag of dog food, which he gives a loud and pointed shake. Along with it, a short doggy whistle, and a call of: )
Rita! C'mere girl! Dinner!
( From beneath the building comes a stirring. A rumbling. Two massive paws bigger than Clydesdale hooves emerge, followed by a sniffing snout — and then bursting from behind the dumpster comes Rita in all her glowing green glory. Nine or ten feet tall were she to stand, two scaly wings folded against her back, practically more dragon than raccoon.
He splits open the dog food bag and dumps a hearty amount directly into a bucket. Rita grabs massive fistfuls in her thumbed paws and begins to shove kibble into her maw, grumbling and growling contentedly. )
Kyle, this is Rita. Rita, this is Kyle. He's good, okay? Kyle is friend, not food.
( If Rita absorbs any of that, she gives absolutely no indication. )
no subject
This is... not a raccoon or a dog.
To be fair, Jack did tell him that...
His eyes have gone a little wide as he shoots a look at Jack, then back to the dragon-raccoon-creature. ]
Nice to meet you, Rita... [ Does she understand English? ]
no subject
He has no fucking clue.
Rita goes back to dunking kibble in a nearby puddle and stuffing it into her mouth.
Jack shrugs one shoulder, and offers an optimistic-sounding: )
I think she likes you.
( At the very least, she doesn't dislike him. That... that would be way more obvious. )
no subject
There's something almost... cute about the way she washes her food. And despite the slobbering, something strangely and horribly beautiful about her wings. The green is much more saturated than he's ever seen, but it faintly reminds him of the tahldi back in Basawar, a coloration that isn't found in furred beasts in Nayeshi that he can recall right now. ]
I'll remember to bring her food next time. [ French fries and bacon. Or whatever these little pellets are. ]