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"Oh yeah, wasn't he saying on Twitter that he didn't like to fight?" It was still a mystery to Jordan as to why anyone who felt that way would sign up to become a hunter. Either the people in question hadn't understood properly, or their recruiters had been unclear; either option was possible, really.

"I've seen a couple of novels based on the Inferno, that might be more your style." He eyed the way Lawrence was currently handling the dissection. "Modern examinations of the circles of hell and their inhabitants."

"Receptiveness," he said, and gave Lawr another strange look. "Interesting hobbies you have there." Interesting was said with a faint strain on it, just an edge of sarcasm.

The comment about Harrison made his expression go still again, carefully guarded. "We hurt each other," he said evenly. "He hasn't forgiven me." He probably won't, he didn't say, and I miss him, thoughts too vulnerable to share with a man he trusted not at all.

"You didn't sign up?" Jordan blinked at Lawrence, mildly confused. "That's unusual."

"I have one somewhere. I don't mind lending it, as long as it's returned in good condition," he said, slanting an eye at the other man. Then he grimaced as Lawr killed the minipet, regretting the offer immediately as he was once again reminded of the many reasons he disliked this guy. He ignored the continued attempts at innuendo, although he was starting to think that Lawr wasn't going to take the hint about it.

"Did he," he said softly, and sighed, turning back to the tank he was cleaning to hide the twist of his mouth at that information. "I don't really care to discuss the details of the fights we had. We were ultimately incompatible, and he holds grudges." He sounded more sad than angry about it.

"It doesn't seem to make sense, no," Jordan agreed wryly. Wonder Park, huh? I heard that was a mess."

He finished cleaning up the tank, checked the leads and display, and transferred its squirming inhabitant back in. This one had a shaved patch on its side and a row of stitches, presumably the subject of some longer-term experiment. He sighed. "Messy breakup is correct." A narrow look at Lawr. "No strings is its own kind of thing, provided everyone involved is aware of that," he said. His mouth twitched; it might have been a grimace or a flat smile. "I'm doing all right on my own."

"If you lose some, huh," he said, and put away his tools with another sigh. He was somewhat ambivalent about helping Lawr catch more minipets that would likely be treated just as carelessly, but it was true that any losses would be expected to be replaced. He didn't mind golem duty.

Jordan hung up his apron and dropped the trash bag into the trash can in the corner. "Dignified golems are a rare occurrence," he muttered.

When he opened his eyes in his golem, he found himself in unfamiliar robes of some type, with something attached to his forehead. He touched it, and discovered that it was a piece of paper of some type, and that it was firmly attached, tugging on his skin when he pulled on it. The skin of his hands was greenish. He was also considerably shorter than he was used to being, and he possessed a sizeable chest. A female golem, yet again. "Dignified, right," he sighed, and turned to look for Lawrence.

Lawrence seemed to be a wolflike creature, androgynous and elegantly robed and quick. The sudden rush toward him startled Jordan, and he found himself taking a quick hop backward, a reflexive motion that came naturally to the golem body and caused alarming amounts of jiggling. The voice that came from the other golem was recognizably Lawr's, but higher, slightly breathier, and much more cheerful than Jordan had been expecting. "Finding minipets, yes," he replied, and turned his head a little to make it easier to see past the charm on his forehead, looking sideways. "I assume you've done this before? Do you have your kit?"

Mistress? Jordan blinked and accepted the bag automatically, caught off guard by Lawrence's chirpily enthusiastic canine performance. With the thought of performance, though, a memory that did not quite belong to him chimed, a recollection of the other Lawr's chameleon abilities, and his own memories of the various accents and speech patterns he'd heard out of the man from time to time settled into place alongside that knowledge. "Right," he said, and tried not to be impressed by the acting. It was generally a good idea to stay in character for one's golem species when in Halloween, anyway. When he spoke again, his voice had softened and lightened, less incongruous for the small female body he was currently inhabiting. "We shouldn't have to go too far today. The forest, perhaps."

He turned toward the path towards the scarefari area, and found that the golem's inclination to hop extended to all motion. Walking normally took a great deal of concentration, and his knees almost hurt. He gave in to the impulse to move in small hops with an internal sigh.

The way the inugami behaved was so different from the man Jordan had been working with that it was actually hard to remember that this was Lawrence. "I don't think chasing them would be a good idea while we are trapping," he said, deciding that he would just respond to this brightly cheerful personality at face value. "Our goal is to bring some back, right? And chasing might scare the minis away."

"I've been trapping for a while - don't copy me," he interrupted himself as he glanced around to find her mimicking his hopping. Would the creature he was -- some kind of vampire, judging by the teeth -- be annoyed by the mimicry? She might be, he decided; vampires were not well known for taking teasing well.

"See that you do." When the inugami stopped and whined, he turned, sighing theatrically. "Oh, very well. You didn't mean it, did you. Go on, you'll move better if you simply run like a good dog."