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Lawrence felt like he hadn't slept in weeks. And this on the whole, was probably true. Since waking up from the Wonder Park fiasco, things had been almost intolerable, finding himself on a boat as part of a mission had been tolerable until said boat filled with spiders and sunk.

After that everything was a fever laced nightmare fraught with the never receding voice in his head which was supposed to be his weapon and partner from here on out. Even at night when the thing apparently aped sleep he'd be kept awake with never ceasing ragged and wet panting and breathing. He'd been so sick he felt he might die and had almost wished for it until the creature said that was nice they could be friends forever if he did.

He emerged from the dorms that day looking like he had seen horrors, in search of a drink of water and some of the (awful) food that the cafeteria provided.

Sitting down he nursed a glass of water and gave it a thousand yard stare.

Lawr gave Al a look that only minorly reflected how much it turned his stomach to see that much food. He'd been surviving on crackers and whatever inoffensive food he could pilfer from the cafeteria in the dead of night. Normally thin as a rake he was even more gaunt looking.

"Hello." he said weakly, turning his glass in his hands.

"I don't think we've met before."

"I'm Jan." he said as amicably as he could manage. "I'm very new here. Just over a week, though it feels much less than that since I have been fairly ill."

"I'm hungry but I don't think I could eat quite so much." as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise he wasn't getting any younger, he couldn't quite devour the amounts of food he did when he was a teen.


.
He rubbed his head, the painkillers weren't really cutting it. "Nice to meet you though Al."

"I am still rather lost, do we simply wait for missions to come along?"

"Sadly" he replied with a grim expression. "It's not good, I've not summoned it much if at all. He's a pair of barbaric claws." And there was some awful suspicion that anything he harmed with them would somehow belong to the thing in his head.



"My weapon sort of scares me." he admitted.

Most people seemed to be relatively alright with their weapons and he couldn't tell if they'd just gotten used to the sensation of suffocating evil and wrongness or if he was just lucky and had gotten a specially nasty one.



"Yes. He's. He says he's a dog. But. I don't. I just don't really know anymore."

Lawr frowned. So Al had a barghest, he knew what those were, he'd seen websites with photos on them of black dogs that had followed travelers home. Granted he'd thought they were probably just strays at the time, now he had a suspicion things were more real than he'd thought.

the voice said, the plaintive happy wheedle gone entirely, replaced by a rumbling snarl he could feel right down to his chest

The sheer desire to harm was almost overwhelming, like pressure underwater. It made it hard to breathe let alone think.

He held up the expensive looking watch. "I wish I knew what butch was."

"He doesn't say what he is"



"A ghost apparently. A dog ghost. I have no idea what that means, he's not good at specifics on anything at all."



He tried very hard to tune out the babble. "Sometimes it says things that don't seem very... dog like? At least I think so, like I say I was feverish, I might have imagined it. Are we expected to fight with these things?"