taxonomites | [Visual] Who let the dogs out? Oh god, did I really just use that as a title? I did. God help me.

After Cassie's Halloween night adventures, she'd just barely made it home in one piece. There was a trail of clothes leading from the front door up to Cassie's bedroom, where the slasher slayer had passed out on top of the covers. Just over fourteen hours later, the demon dog made his way home to check up on Cassie and found her like that. It confused Pooch on how falling asleep in lacy undergarments can be comfortable, but he doesn't wake Cassie to question her.

On the floor by her bed, Cassie's tablet sat where she'd dropped it, the screen black. Pooch was ever so curious about the tablets. They had nothing of the sort in Nef and Pooch had had very little chances to learn about them more with the No Longer Hated Cassie Hack's tablet attached to her wrist. But now that it was separated from the occasionally belligerent Cassie, Pooch had his chance. Lowering his head, Pooch did his best to grab the tablet and lift it onto one of the lighted stairs that made of the base of Cassie's bed. Pooch pawed at the tablet, turning on the visual function. He did not intend for that, but it was a happy coincidence.

He cleared his throat, giving his best smile. "Greetings, known and unknown citizens of the city of Taxon. I am the most loyal Pooch. The No Longer Hated Cassandra Hack appears to be in a deep sleep, so Pooch can control her tablet device. My tale is one of deceit, pain, and my mother, a lowbeast, exploding in messy fashion to give birth to Pooch. But Pooch wishes to know more of Taxon's citizens. So, tell humble Pooch of your life story." And then he grows quiet, looking at the screen in a 'okay, your turn' sort of way. Not unlike the Buffybot had.

((ooc: This will be a predominately Pooch post. Cassie will pop up every once in a while when she wakes up.))

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"Would you prefer Mercenary Uther, then? Pooch does not wish to insult," Pooch is willing to correct himself so his new friends are comfortable.

"Pooch follows the calendar on the No Longer Hated Cassie Hack's tablet when he can," Pooch says, glancing over to the sleeping form on the bed beside where he sat.

"Mercenary Uther is fine, although Liveman Doul is my proper name and title. Do you wish to go by Humble Pooch?" Doul believes that asking what someone wants to be called is a better question than what their actual name and rank is.

"I am not used to these tablets. If I was home, today would be Rustdi in the Hawkbill Quarto and a holy day in the riding of Shaddler. Soon to be Crawfoot's Unexpected and Movable Feast."

"Loyal Pooch will gladly answer to whatever you wish to call him, Liveman Doul," Pooch nodded. No one had ever asked him what he wanted to be called. That little tail of his is wagging away. Oh, he likes Uther.

"This feast sounds like it would be quiet an adventure, what happens that makes it unexpected and movable? Does it travel from place to place?"

"I never followed the worship of Jabber or veneration of Crawfoot, but the feast appears whenever someone declares it ought to appear." Which he has just done. Therefore, this means that it will come into being soon enough. "It is a time to rejoice in one's own survival against strange odds and foolish situations of your own making."

Translation: Admittedly, it was mostly our fault for nearly dying, but we're alive and someone's brought the good wine. Let's have snacks. :9

"My own people do not have many festivals to mark out the year's passing, but we do honour Noiseday. Which is when the silent streets fill with the sound of bells, song, and speech."

"Your world seems to be a most interesting place. Humble Pooch believes he would fit in well there," Pooch nods, trying to imagine this place and its festivities.

"Noiseday sounds like it would be very painful if all of the sounds happened at once. Is it an all day event? Starting very early and lasting well into the night?"

"I may be wrong, Loyal Pooch, but I think you would fit in well." Hey man, worlds with pseudo-Lovecraftian horrors need to stick together and not always in the literal shoggoth-y sense. "In comparison to most cities I have been to, Noiseday is no louder than the average day among the Quick. And yes, you are right, the day lasts from a rooster's crow at dawn until the small hours of the next morning."

"What celebrations do your people have?"

"Humble Pooch is pleased that you would think so, Liveman Doul," Pooch says, bowing his head once more. So polite, this demon dog.

Lifting his head, he tilted it to the side, thinking it over. "There are very little celebrations in the Nefworld. There are the spawning rituals, where the Avatar sends forth three maidens from Earth to Nef, fair and untouched by the men of the world. The mating ritual is violent and often causes many of the maidens to die."

"Then there is the birthing, which is far worse. If they did not die in the mating, they will most definitely die in the spawning," Pooch nods knowingly.

Doul may not be familiar with Nefworld or its rituals, but the general system sounds worryingly similar to a few of the less, ah, public festivals back home. Let's not get him going on the Grindylow limbfarms, shall we?

"And now, how do you find Taxon? Does it suit you well?"

"Pooch has made several friends so far. The Curious River Tam dresses him when Pooch is cold and she feeds him delicious frozen treats which she calls 'Ice Planets'."

Pooch nodded several times in response to the second question. "Pooch likes the City of Taxon very much. There are no dangers of the other Nefspawn losing their temper and beating or even killing poor, humble Pooch."

"It is an interesting city and a strange world, but given the choice, I would return to Bas-Lag." There's something he really ought to be doing there and it's not anything that can be completed elsewhere. "I am uncomfortable offering protection to those I don't know, from others I know even less, but should other Nefspawn appear and you find yourself in trouble. Ask for me."

He doesn't really care too much for Pooch's safety, but if there are other creatures appearing, it would be a good idea to know as soon as possible.

"Humble Pooch thanks the Liveman Doul for his offer and will do so, should the event arise," Pooch says in a very professional fashion, bowing his head deeply.

"Good." Even if the conversation isn't the most stimulating, he's pleased to have someone non-human to talk to. "Good luck and be well, Pooch."

[Visual] Who let the dogs out? Oh god, did I really just use that as a title? I did. God help me.

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