Who: Vic Scherbatsky, Bode Coldiron, & Grayson Wolfe Where: Dog Park Bonfire When: Backdated to this past Thursday! What: Two Hellhound officers get to know the Library leader Warnings: Language and mentions of drinking
It's been a hell of a week. The Hounds don't usually get this involved with the other shelters, but there was more riding on Wolfe's disappearance than was first evident. And luckily enough for everyone involved, it's worked out better than worse. For them, at least. Bringing Wolfe back to the Dog Park hasn't backfired on them yet and so far, nothing's changed except for his presence round the bonfire. Wolfe has seen better days, though, Vic's damned sure about that.
Vic sidles up to Bishop, nodding his head in Wolfe's direction, and raises an eyebrow. "Feel like making nice with the librarian over there?" he asks, taking a sip from his cup. "Thinking we could bring him some of your moonshine if you feel like parting with some tonight." It's the least they can do to make Wolfe feel comfortable, after all. Make him remember their hospitality when he gets back to his shelter.
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They had been running themselves ragged for a week, searching for a man none of them knew. But a man who could play a key role in strengthening their cause, an ally in the fight against the Capitol. Bishop is still trying to piece things together in his own mind, put 'em all in their place and make sure they're approaching this at the right angle. He trusts Rodeo and he trusts his judgment. All he truly hopes is that saving Wolfe's life will sway the man to see the benefit in aligning himself with the Hellhounds. He doesn't believe this task will be easy, because he doesn't believe Wolfe is a man who can be easily won over, which only makes Bishop respect him more.
Wolfe may owe them a debt for saving his life, for housing him while he waits out his quarantine. But that doesn't mean that Bishop thinks the man will feel he owes them loyalty or owes them enough to put his own shelter in danger by getting into bed with the Dogs.
His attention is snapped away from the man he'd been studying for half the evening now, blue eyed gaze landing on their Enforcer instead. "You know, I think I would," he answers with a quirk of his mouth. "Been trying to figure out if all of this has swayed the man's opinion enough to think about what kind of benefit an alliance with us could give him." There hasn't been much talk around the table of a revolution, but Bishop knows it sits heavily on most officers minds. "And you know my moonshine wins everyone over." He adds while he swipes a whole jug of it off a nearby table and begins making his way over towards their newest guest.
"Care for a drink?" Bishop asks as he approaches, waving the jug to emphasize his question.
--
Vic nods as they amble over towards Wolfe, grateful Bishop got a whole mess of ‘shine. His cup is almost dry already; Vic’s a pretty heavy drinker, more due to the sheer size of him and less about any dependence on the stuff, and he swallows what’s left before he answers.
“Talking to him’ll do us better to figure that out than just watching him from across the bonfire like a pair of lovesick girls.” And both of the Dogs can do their jobs better up close, too. Vic’s sure that while he’s sizing up Wolfe, figuring out if him healing up at the Dog Park is gonna result in any unnecessary danger for anyone at the camp, Bishop’s gonna be figuring out the best way to move forward with all this. Rodeo will take their counsel into account, but Vic’s pretty sure their King’s already got his mind made up on how he wants to go forward with this.
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Gray’s tired. Even after sleeping through Tuesday, but especially after the encounter he extremely, definitely did not want with all three of the ladies from the library hauling themselves out to the Dog Park just to see him--even after his insistence that it needed to not happen, and it happened anyway. He understands. Would’ve wanted the same thing if he was in their shoes. But he still thinks it would have been easier if they hadn’t come.
His skin feels too tight and his head still hurts. That lanky son of a bitch probably hit him upside the head with another wine bottle after dispatching the zombie from the little “experiment”, which would explain the head hurting. Or maybe one of the Capitol’s men knocked his head too hard. He can’t really recall.
What he knows is, the Hellhound prospect standing two or three feet away is watching him like a hawk and it’s making Gray uncomfortable.
But not as uncomfortable as being in the tent he’s been provided, not as uncomfortable as rolling over and over, trying to find a position where he isn’t pushing on some injury or other. (He’s heard now that she carved a wolf into his back. He doesn’t find this funny.)
He’s just about given up his willingness to sit upright and pretend he’s not as bad off as he is, just about decided his tent is better than the bonfire, when a pair of men head over towards him. Threat assessment, a thing he had by and large abandoned at the library, spikes up. In his current condition, either one of them could take him down in a heartbeat. His rational mind says, They’re not here to hurt you. But he can’t shake the feeling anyway.
And his rational mind is right: the one offers him a drink. Gray straightens up a little, taking in a careful breath. Broken ribs, what a pain. “I’m not sure I’m in the shape to drink, but I sure do appreciate the offer,” he says. “You all must have a lot of fun nights ‘round this fire.”
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Vic looks over his shoulder at the bonfire, grinning proprietarily as he surveys the space he and his people have carved out for themselves out there in the Greenbelt. “We sure do,” he says, taking the jug from Bishop and pouring himself another drink.
Wolfe’s in no real shape to pose a threat. Vic can see that plain as day. But he doesn’t know how he feels just yet about the library getting wrapped up close in their business, what kinds of threats that may end up bringing their way down the line. He knows the Capitol got themselves involved when Rodeo picked Wolfe up; that kinda thing doesn’t happen without any repercussions. Vic is already thinking in the back of his mind about how they can prepare for the worst, in case this kinda thing is one big fat set-up and Wolfe was just the unlucky bastard who got to get beat up for it. Trojan horse or whatever the hell they called that shit.
He clears his throat, drawing his attention back to the present and away from the future. “Think my old lady invited that kid of yours out to one of our parties here the other week,” he says conversationally. “Now that her daddy’s gotten a look at the place she should come by to the next one. I got a nice kid of my own ‘round her age.”
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The refusal of a drink is merely met with a shrug and kind of 'suit yourself' expression. "Reckon that hasn't stopped many of these guys, so really you may be a rarity around here," he comments, easily letting Vic snag the jug from him as he continues to study Wolfe closely. The man doesn't pose any sort of immediate threat, not in the shape he's in. That doesn't mean he won't in the future and Bishop has had more than one run in with Wolfe's head of security, a woman who was not keen on raiders. So to say he was leery of folks from the Library would be an understatement.
There's a chuckle that escapes him when Vic brings up Zhenya and the invite she offered the other man's daughter. "Mama Z would invite a dying man to a party if she thought it'd help him," he remarks with the ghost of a smile. "And I think I got to talking about explosives with your kid once, she seemed real keen on fireworks." Bishop adds with a laugh.
Easy conversation seemed like the best way to get to know this man, after all he was a guest so it wasn't as if an interrogation was needed. "I've met your head of security before as well, she ain't a real big fan of Raiders," he pauses to look the other man in the eye. "Wondering if us saving your life has changed that?"