Welcome to Gaia! ::

Jack returned the salute with a little grin. "Important people stuff, of course. See you."

"Later" came at 6:30. He hadn't bothered trying the caf since he had snacks that were more appealing still. That, and he found getting some alcohol in made it easier to talk.

That is the excuse, Owain rumbled, concerned. And you are spending an excessive amount of money for it.

Not really. Good stuff costs a lot, cheap stuff gets finished faster.

You are building a habit of only letting go through your vices, dear one.

He mentally waved the giant off, sipped his beer, and texted Ian.

There was a large headshot sticker stencil of a smirking Jack Skellington that greeted Ian at the door. Shortly after his knocks, said door opened.

Jack's room had become an homage to Halloween. More wall stickers of bats and The Nightmare Before Christmas decor had made their way around the room. Several large bags of assorted candy were leaned against one another by his closet, and unused candles mounted on too of pipe cleaner spiders guarded his desk. There was also a black trash bag peeking out from under his bed.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Jack greeted him with a half empty can and a lazy smile. "...s**t, that's not part of a ship's compliment is it. Anyway, want a beer? I only have maybe three cans left." Of that particular pack.

"Boring," he replied as he crouched by his mini fridge and opened it. "Two days ago I had to help deal with a pregnant male. Today? The highlight was a double broken nose." He explained this very scientific term as a hunter getting her nose broken and then broken again the other way before it could fully heal.

Jack grabbed a can and offered it as he stood, nudging the fridge closed with his foot. "You?"

Jack cackled; he had hoped the shock factor would get to Ian. "Let's just say you always need to be careful and use protection," he said. "Zombie babies aren't the only unfortunate consequences that can happen. Maybe my wedding present will be an informative pamphlet. The things I've seen in the infirmary..."

He shook his head slowly and gulped down his beer. Ian thought he needed a vacation? After the s**t Jack had been going through, he almost wanted to strangle the guy for saying so.

"But yeah, I opened it," and hid it with the rest of course, "and they're not a bad choice. I was almost afraid you were going to get me something with animal print. Anyway, thanks." He wouldn't be able to wear them, but that was just a fact he had come to accept about most of his collection. Didn't mean he couldn't admired them like art.

"So. I know you're just dying to hear about what's been going on with me. So I'll start with a question: have you had any odd dreams lately?"

Oh, good, at least Ian understood that implicit rule.

"I guess this is the part where I'd tell you I have a snug leopard print dress," Jack said and then laughed a little more. He might or might not have had more than one can of beer prior to Ian's arrival.

And speaking of: He finished his current one off, tossed it in the trash can, and immediately got himself another one.

"Well," he said as he plopped on his bed and popped the beer open, "that's a nice bit of good news. As it turns out, we've had at least one reported case of Merlin approaching hunters through dreams to offer a demon's deal." Cue one long sip. "Craft--Chelsea, I'm sure you remember her--Craft's body got hijacked by a student who was offered a similar deal. When I met it, it said it was interested in seeing how our conversion process worked. Essentially, it was using her body the way we use golems."

He paused to let that sink in.

"Worse." His good humor dimmed. "Yours was a ghost or something with similar powers, and it only happened once; temporary possession isn't out of the norm if your defenses are down. This was like..." Jack frowned. "Like playing a game: the student assumed control of her whenever it was convenient for it to do so, and she lost complete awareness. I saw it happen twice, but she told me it had happened at least a few other times before that. It could make her talk and everything."

More beer contemplation. His smile faded away.

"I didn't get it out exactly. It broke some deal with Merlin so it got in trouble, as far as I can guess. I don't know if it's coming back or not, but I know this isn't over by a long shot." He shrugged. "I had her quarantined for observation just in case, and they stuck a bomb bracelet on her before they let her out. If she ends up being a threat, well..." It wasn't strictly true--the bomb had been ordered for more reasons than that--but he felt an impulse to have Ian understand it was because of him that she was walking around with it. Not a confession of guilt, but not a denial of it either.

"Basically what I'm saying is don't make funny deals with strangers in your dreams. And if you see any odd behavior from anyone else, report it."

"It didn't have much of a chance to try if it wanted to cause trouble: the first time it took over, I almost knocked her out, and the second time it just babbled under observation. But that's not the point. Grixlie, the student that is, said it had agreed to visit with non-violent intentions. A student—or more than one student—having the chance to hijack bodies, however, is a security threat." He frowned. "God only knows why Merlin's interested in giving out free human golems, but it can't be for something good. The only reason I could interfere at all is because the student was obvious about it when it took over. If there are more of them out there, we might not be so lucky in catching them."

Jack drained the can. "There's no reason yet to believe there are more right now, but a dose of paranoia is healthy to have. So, there's that to keep in mind, along with the zombie outbreak looming on the horizon. Sorry for stomping all over your marital bliss, I guess." He lapsed into silence and contemplated his drink for a while.

A fight? "Something like that." In hindsight he wasn't sorry for forcing the thing to let go of Chel so violently. She was a hard hitter, with or without the bracelet; he didn't want to know what would have happened if Grixlie had gotten a hold of that strength. And with that hateful look Jack had received just before the end...

He tilted the can back and forgot it was empty. Damn. Crunching it in his hand, he tried to toss it into the basket, but it fell short. Double damn. "It's not meant to be a secret," Jack replied as he forced himself up and lazily picked up the trash to properly throw away. "I've told you and Finn, which by proxy means Crowley and Parish will get the news. AK—Abbi—as well as Craft's cousin are also aware of the situation."

With the can disposed of, he got another beer and plopped back down on his bed. A characteristic brooding frown was setting in. "There's always a reason things happen," he said as he popped the can, sounding more mellow than the words were, "even if you can't understand it at the moment. They tell us it's just kill them or be killed, but is that all?" He scoffed quietly. "Maybe it is for you. All you have to worry about now is protecting people from s**t, nothing else. Never accept things at face value until you have proven it behind a shadow of a doubt yourself, Ian. Didn't you learn that during your brief suicidal stint?" He didn't know why he was going on about it, the thought wasn't nearly as cohesive as he had wanted it to be. Probably the beer.