grey_ghost (grey_ghost) wrote in the_dome, @ 2013-10-01 21:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | 04-11-2017, mannix, mannix and serge, serge |
Watchers
Who: Serge and Mannix
Where: Woodlands
When: post-watch, pre-dawn
Serge had seen what he needed to see hours ago, not long after the moon rose. He’d wanted to see the change, the shift happening to the people in their cages, and once he had? He hadn’t lingered. Moving through woodlands to distance himself from the pens, he’d kept a solitary watch in the darkness, listening to the odd howl and watching for any disturbance that might threaten tonight’s tenuous calm.
And when none came, and he knew dawn to be close enough? He’d headed back, thinking that a check-in with the others who kept watch was in order in the name of his proper profession here in Delphi. His rifle was still handy, resting across folded arms as Serge stalked through the woods in the direction of the ever-growing sounds of life, but he knew he wouldn’t need it tonight. There would be no bloodshed, and he was grateful for that. But if not tonight? Serge had to believe it was still coming…
Mannix had stayed through the night, glad to keep others company and make sure the wolves remained calm till dawn. While he would have liked to stay to see them shift back, the sun threatened to rise first, and so he reluctantly left the camp behind. He could ask Jack what it was like when his brother returned home. Armed with his gun and his knife, Mannix headed back out of the woods, slowing when he heard footsteps coming towards him. His eyes cut through the darkness, landing on Serge, to whom he gave a nod of recognition till he got closer. “Morning.”
“Not yet,” Serge noted in response, still lacking a basic greeting for others. But Mannix would be more aware of the time than him, undoubtedly. He looked the younger man over, noting the obvious weapons and wondering if he had others that weren’t so open; an old habit Serge couldn’t shake. “No conflict among the watchers?” he asked evenly, thinking that’d be the only problem to surprise him here. If there’d been trouble with the wolves themselves, Serge was confident he would’ve heard it.
“No, not yet,” Mannix agreed. It bothered him that something so simple could be so deadly to him, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was what he was, just as Serge was what he was. He’d known men like him and knew he was dangerous. Mannix could almost sense the other weaponry on him just in the way he carried himself. “No conflict,” he said, though he thought of December’s frustration with Mickey. That wasn’t what Serge was asking about. “It’s been a quiet night. I didn’t expect it to go this well.”
Both men might’ve been surprised by how much interest Serge would show their more personal issues, but it went unspoken in the moment. “First night as this is quiet. Many may be, but each should be taken with care,” he offered in his heavy accent. It was curious to be able to juxtapose the bits of Mannix he knew from December with what was standing in front of him now. “You know some among them,” Serge added, nodding after the cages. Not a question.
“I’m curious to know how it was for them, how much of themselves they retained. Even if they’re not a danger, they’d probably be shot at if they were running free,” Mannix said. He could see Jack doing it anyways, so hopefully he’d stick to the woods. He didn’t need to scare the dome into thinking the wolves were back. Though with the way things were going, it was only a matter of time before everyone in Delphi knew what was going on. Could they really be left in the dark indefinitely? “My brother,” he answered with a nod.
“Jack Ryker,” Serge noted evenly, giving a slight nod of his own. He’d done his homework after December had finally put a name to Mannix, and with a name that uncommon it wasn’t hard to find registry in the police records. So this family had two different infections… “And I believe they retained much, as you did in your change,” he added, “Different problems, yes, but if these had lost more of themselves? This night would not have been so calm.” Not based on the natural wolves Serge had encountered before; no animal dealt with captivity well. None except humans, it seemed.
“Yes, Jack.” Mannix’s eyes narrowed just slightly when Serge said his brother’s name. It wasn’t that he had the first name, but that he had the last, something he didn’t feel the need to throw out all that often. Any remaining records on them would be interesting, to say the least. That and the fact that he knew what Mannix was as well, though he supposed December could have told him that. It was unsettling to find that someone knew a secret about him that he hadn’t been the one to tell, but he supposed all the werewolves had figured it out anyways. “There is definitely a human element in there,” he agreed. “But how much? I’d have gone down to test it, but my presence seemed to unsettle them.”
“You are predator,” came the evenly-spoken observation as Serge regarded him casually despite the situation, as well as their arms. “Not in intent, perhaps, but in nature of being? Is undeniable.” And he wasn’t judging Mannix for it, not after his own assessments of vampires or December’s words, but Serge wasn’t going to sugarcoat how he saw it. “Perhaps they smell this. Two predators do not share, they respect at best.” Or maybe he just smelled dead to them, Serge couldn’t know. But he did know a predator’s mentality, and he’d stand by his guess there.
“I smell it on them, too. Not on Jack, so much, but I think that’s because I’m used to him.” Mannix wasn’t even sure smell was the right word. He sensed it on them, could feel that they were dangerous, which explained why nothing had changed with Jack. He’d always known that Jack was a threat, though not necessarily to him. “It’s not just me. There’s another, and they reacted the same to her.” He’d kept his eyes on Zania when she showed up at the camp, primarily because his sister had been in tow, but he’d also been curious as to how the wolves would handle her. She’d kept her distance, just as he had.
That made sense to Serge, as if both the vampirism and now the lycanthropy had heightened the instincts of people with them. He’d long believed that it was an instinct everyone had, but few could really tap into, so this? This just confirmed his own idea about new threats working on a level like his. “There are many, I am sure,” he agreed, “And if one oversteps, the others could seek them out faster.” Faster than his own deductions and hunting, most likely, but would any of them be willing? Serge doubted Mannix would track people he knew, but if there were real threats he’d find a way to change the younger man’s tune.
“There seems to be less like me than of them, but it could be that it’s harder to gather us together,” Mannix said. He hadn’t gone out of his way to find out who the other vampires around town were. He only knew of Zania because she’d been there when he’d changed. But Serge was right; if one overstepped, they might have a pack on their heels. “It seems instinctual to be weary of each other. That will either result in the two steering clear of each other or more often picking fights. I’m hoping it’s the former, not the latter.” As much as he’d like to see how a werewolf and a vampire might battle it out, he doubted that would assist in keeping things quiet.
“Expect both,” Serge advised grimly, “And escalation once it begins.” It’d snowball, Serge was confident. Something small but unsettling at first, and then it was just a matter of people (and others) being themselves, of human nature even in inhuman beings. “There will need to be structure among them, and those like you. Communication at very least.” If a crisis hit, people had to know who to get in touch with for organized responses to happen. Normally that’d be Serge’s job as a cop, but in his mind? The badge didn’t mean much against issues like these.
“I think there’s some structure among them, but not much. There’s four or five people that want to be in charge,” Mannix said. That was his understanding of it, at least, that there were more alphas that pack members. It was going to make things difficult at some point, but they were all too stubborn to follow when they should. “So far there’s been nothing to bring together my kind, so I don’t know really know who’s out there or how many. But if you meet anyone you think might be, I can probably confirm it. So can Jack.” Or any werewolf for that matter.
Raising a hand to dismiss the offer, Serge shook his head lightly even as he filed away Mannix’s insight on the shapeshifters. A fractured community would do no favors in dealing with a crisis, he’d have to hope that one of them dominated the others sooner, rather than later. “I have methods of identification,” he told Mannix, the words foreboding even if Serge didn’t necessarily mean them that way. It was the combination of his accent and the topic at hand, even if he only meant his little mirrors. “But if I cannot through my means, I will contact you.” Which was about as much trust as he’d give someone he knew so little of, but it’d have to do. Serge wouldn’t really rely on anyone, but having options was okay.
Mannix didn’t like the sound of that and wondered what Serge’s methods of identification might be. Yes, werewolves had a reaction to silver, but they’d know instantly what Serge was doing. And vampires? He couldn’t imagine. Crosses didn’t work, nor did garlic, so what did he have in mind as an identifier? “Will you let me know of any more you come across?” he asked. “I like to be kept in the loop.” It was better to know what was out there, who they might be dealing with, and Serge was in a position to cross the paths of more people than Mannix did, especially the werewolves.
“I do not deal in absolutes, so I will not make unfailing promise,” Serge told him, not unkindly, “But if it is warranted? I will seek you.” And that was the most he’d offer anyone in Delphi other than Corey, it was a position Serge had no plans of moving from. “But I will always consider Delphi’s safety first. If there are others, they would do well to follow your behavior…” He was taking a chance, trusting December’s words about how Mannix watched his feeding. If she was wrong, or if Serge found more vampires who weren’t? They wouldn’t be having another group effort like building the cages.
“They would be stupid not to, “ Mannix said. “They’d be putting us all at risk.” And Mannix would rather see one rogue vampire killed than have them all exposed and viewed as a threat. He had no issues hunting them down and taking them out himself. He just hoped that Serge would see fit to inform him if this was necessary. Mannix tended to think of his own safety first, but being in the dome for prolonged periods of time was putting other people on that list. Jack had always been there, but Lily could be in danger, or December. December could take care of herself, or led him to believe she could, but Lily was far too easy a target. He would do whatever was necessary to make sure they were safe. “I should get going,” he said, casting a glance towards the skyline. “Thank you for your support tonight. I think this was handled well, considering the circumstances.”
“While I am here, I will help,” Serge told him plainly, turning away to head off counter to Mannix. He’d cover the woodlands where he’d perched one more time, then head back into town proper. This was his job while the doors were sealed, and Serge was deadly serious about any work he agreed to. So was Mannix, it seemed, and while that didn’t earn him much with Serge? It was something. He’d see what came of it.