CorviDoggo

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

“I will. Don’t worry.”

Sorrel couldn’t stop himself from smiling that dumb, toothy grin as he clutched the bloody little piece of cloth. He… definitely wanted to see this man again. He didn’t know why, it just… made him happy. He decided to simply stuff the rag into one of his pockets and walk on, back into the sewers, back to the rootpaths, and into Ground Zero, to be his… normal, lonely self.

He sighed softly as he chewed on a piece of fruit jerky he made two days ago, now in his small but resourceful house in his beautiful jungle, in the utopia he built— his proof of concept. His reason for shredding humanity’s governments to nothing, bit by bit.

A slug-cat creature waddled up to his feet, and Sorrel reached down to pet it, still thinking about Cricket. Maybe Cricket would also enjoy Slugcat. Maybe, next time they meet… he could make a proper meal for the man.

𖤐 Hell's Renegades 𖤐

The chatting and babbling was absolutely deafening to Bezaliel’s ears, almost making it want to tuck the wings on its head away and hide. First, it spread its wings again, its teeth bared in a low hiss, almost like a spacer or a warning. Unlike everyone else there, Bezaliel had some of its own space to deal with, higher up—

The Angel, with a single flap of its wings, launched itself upwards, this time. It landed on a support beam with enough space to act like a perch for the giant creature, peering down at the babbling dumbasses with the five orange eyes on its head. It turned towards that couch with three people congregating on it. Leaning down to speak. “Wheeen… fOOD? When fisH?”

Mmm. If only these people knew how to understand Kaleidos… or, at least, that time traveler language the bird was fairly fluent in. English was still quite hard for the Angel, and speaking in English frustrated it. Instead of entertaining angry thoughts about English or angry thoughts about all of the people in this poor excuse of a pack, Bezaliel started to preen itself. It’s not like it was going back to sleep— and the importance of keeping its feathers healthy overshadowed its want to dose off, anyways.

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

Oh.

Oh my god.

Sorrel’s cheeks blushed so fucking hard. He felt like he was bright red all over. He felt like a deer in headlights, looking up at Cricket’s sweet eyes, feeling how such large hands can be so gentle on his face. He rested his hand on the larger, paler hand that held his chin. His odd eyes sparkled again, and a few silent moments passed before Sorrel realized he and his shitty body inconvenienced a complete stranger, soiled one of his towels, and… probably made it a bit more awkward..?

All he could do in response for maybe a solid minute was babble incoherently, until he stopped, with a really dumb smile and some smudged up dry blood on his upper lip, and quickly stated “I uh— we can exchange numbers! I—“

The feathered man fumbled out his phone, his face still red and his hands shaking a bit. “Here—“

Sorrel read his phone number to the taller man and jotted down his number. He… he didn’t know why, but he still wanted to be with this man some time later. Maybe when his body was a little kinder to him.

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

Do you want my number?

That did it. That made Sorrel blush a sweet, bright red like strawberries. His mismatched eyes even glittered a bit, until he felt something warm trickle from his nose and mouth.

Oops.

Sorrel straight up freaked out. He literally squeaked as he noticed his bleeding and quickly started to rub it away with his sleeve, until he realized that wasn’t working and he pulled the collar of his sweater up and pressed it over his nose and mouth. “I-I’m so sorry for that—“ he stammered, “I’m so fucking sorry, oh my god—“ suffice to say, he was. Embarrassed by his reaction. Very much embarrassed. Why was he like this? Why did he have to be like this?? Which god cursed him into just being like that??

His feathers crowning his head puffed up as he started to cough into his sweater. “Ohh my god I’m so fucking sorry,” Sorrel kept stammering apologies as his body essentially laughed at him for daring to get excited at Cricket’s number exchange offer.

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

Sorrel sighed softly, and decided to just shove his hands into the pockets of his oversized pants. “It’s just some idealistic thoughts, y’know… sometimes it feels like the whole world needs a reboot or somethin’. It’s not like I can do much, though, I’m just some living in it.”

That was exactly why Gamma-Burn had to exist. That was why his extremism kept going, why toppling the corrupt over and giving it to the people to rebuild was so important. He already knew the flaws of volunteer work— the most power-hungry people would be the ones raising their hands first. It frankly disgusted Sorrel, thinking about every cockroach he had to stomp out for the betterment of society.

Of course, he also couldn’t mention that in a conversation with a total stranger. There were a lot of people who agreed with Gamma-Burn, but a there were also a lot of people who decidedly did not. Sorrel didn’t want to sour his interaction with this cute, giant stranger… wait, did he just think Cricket was cute?! He just knew this guy for a few minutes! It… was true, though— the man had a nice face, and a nice smile.

Sorrel could see that blasted bell sign pop up as they both rounded a corner. He really was going there, huh? God, why did he do this to himself? Why was he so stupid?? What would he even get there? He had no stomach for their food, and no stomach for food in general. He already felt nauseous before even walking up to the stupid fast food place.

The Seven

Pouncing on this like a dumb baby tiger

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

How. How did that little interaction not end in absolute disaster? Should he… keep going?

Sorrel gave an awkward smile back, one that bared all of his teeth. They were extremely sharp, pointy— of course, due to his angelic ancestry. “That’s very noble of you,” Sorrel chirped, before holding back his tongue. No shit! This dude was entirely fine risking his life to stop fires n’ save lives. He’s… probably had to deal with a few of the radioactive fires Sorrel accidentally started while donning the Gamma-Burn mask. That… felt awkward, yet again. He just clasped his hands behind his back to stop himself from awkwardly stimming and messing with his hair. Of course, he still messed with the hair string on his wrist and enjoyed the little snap feeling it did against his skin.

Now, the cogs in Sorrel’s head started turning, and his voice escaped him before he could filter anything. “I wonder… if there were more unpaid positions in places like the DNCC or the police, or just the United States government in general, would it be less corrupt, more caring about the people..?”

Shut UP. Sorrel! Shut the fuck up! “I mean… shit, if you had a normal person running the treasury maybe they’d give a bit more of a shit over inflation, haha.” Atrocious save. Sorrel wanted to simply transcend through realities and hide in a little pocket dimension. Sorrel wanted to evaporate right then and there.

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

Taco bell? Really? Of all fucking places? At this point the tall man might as well have microwaved chicken and rice, it would’ve been healthier. Sorrel could tell this… Cricket? Ironic name, isn’t it? worked out, so… why not fuel his body better?? Surely it’d give him more energy.

Sorrel followed close behind Cricket, leaving the food container gently by a trash can. He knew he wasn’t going to finish it, anyways. Someone, or something, else could have it. He wasn’t going to make them dumpster dive for it.

“I’ve… actually never eaten there, before,” Sorrel said. It was true! He didn’t want to eat the fucking plastic that was the entirety of Taco Bell food, and he could make better versions of everything at home. It’s— it’s okay! He didn’t have to eat there. He wasn’t hungry, anyways. Why was he following this stranger, again? He held himself, crossing his arms as he walked. As much as the feathered stick of a man tried to hold his tongue, he just felt some anxious need to fill the silence.

“Firefighting’s dangerous, takes a lot of work,” Sorrel mumbled, more to himself than to the giant a few steps in front of him. “‘Least you’re doing it in the states, though— I’ve seen a few cases in South Korea, the government’s corrupt there to the point of just givin’ their firefighters a like.. 25k salary and raincoats instead of real fire protection. There was a whole scandal there, too— took the idiot in the blue house 6, I think, firefighter deaths in a single night, n’ public outrage because of that, to actually properly supply the firefighters there.”

Oh. Oh what the FUCK was that tangent? Why would he talk about that? What the fuck? What the fuck, Sorrel??? Why is he LIKE this? Sorrel undid his half-up bun after a few seconds of awkward silence, and tried his damn best to hide his face in his green and blonde dreads. What the fuck?

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

Sorrel couldn’t believe himself. He also couldn’t believe what he was going to say. Fast food? That’s so bad for you! Why would this man just fill his body with junk?? And… on top of that, he still was holding the half-eaten taco bowl, and he just felt… really bad wasting food like that and throwing it away. It wasn’t right! But it’d be… a lot weirder to waltz into another stupid chain restaurant with taco bowl food. The food wasn’t good anyways. Maybe… it’d benefit the raccoons more than him?

Jesus. What was he thinking?? He meets one kind stranger and decides it’s okay to contribute to more and more unneeded waste, all because he… wants to spend time with the pockmarked man? Why does he want to spend time with this dude? What’s he doing??? Why was Sorrel being so dumb right now??

“I’m not the best at talkin’ either, don’t worry…”

Why was he considering this?? Why was he going to do this?

“I’m Sorrel, I don’t mind joining you, i-if you’d like the company…? Where… would you be going? If you’d like, uh… I could at least walk with you there..? I have the time.”

𓆣 ☢ Middle Man ☢ 𓆣

“Oh, uh…”

Sorrel forgot that his illness wasn’t exactly invisible when he… looked the way he did. And, frankly, it was kind for this pockmarked stranger to care that much— most of the time, people just stared at him, or at most silently pitied him as they went about their dare. Most normal people, at least.

This man wasn’t exactly normal, and Sorrel already figured that. But… being not normal includes being kind to him.

“It’s not much, really…” Sorrel didn’t really know how to explain his illness— it was rare and often ill-understood, and… maybe it was better to just brush it off. “It’s just part of an autoimmune disease I have, not infectious, not a… not a big deal.”

… Should he offer to do something for this stranger..? He couldn’t tell, he just felt wrong leaving and heading off.

“Do you, uh… are you still hungry..?” Real smooth, Sorrel— “because I could, uh… I could probably cook you something better than a processed taco bowl..? Or at least walk you to… a better restaurant..?”

Gods. Sorrel wanted to ram his head RIGHT into the fucking wall. Why was he like this. How the fuck would he cook for this stranger? Isn’t it creepy?? Isn’t he being creepy??? Fuck.