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dariodanoite · 5 years ago

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send nudists | bo & dario

LOCATION: the forest. PARTIES: @bemyfriendplease and @dariodanoite. SUMMARY: dario meets with the girl who lured the jaguar back into being human. bo accuses dario of being both a nudist and a furry. somewhere along the way they promise to be each other’s person.

Dario knew that he’d told Bo he’d show her the jaguar again, but the truth was— he didn’t have any plans of turning completely into the cat he had been stuck as for thirteen years. A very large part of him had thought to do so, to simply disappear into the forest for another decade or so instead of dealing with the grief for his family that came with being human again. But if he did that, who would avenge his family? Was losing himself again truly what he wanted? That was a part of the reason he’d been excited to find Bo again. Even if she didn’t know it was him, she’d known him in some way before he’d come back to civilization. It was at least some sort of link that he had, rather than coming back to nothing. However, that excitement had quickly dissipated when it had become clear she simply thought him insane, or a nudist, or both. So here he was at one of his favorite ponds in the forest, waiting for her to show up so that he might...well— he wasn’t entirely certain yet. Hopefully he’d think of some way to prove what he was, and that they’d known each other...in a way. His sensitive ears picked up the sounds of someone rustling closer, and he called out, “Bo?”, curious if she’d come.

It was a bad idea to meet a nudist, Bo knew that. Except this nudist she knew, vaguely. In glimpses in highschool, in slapping missing persons posters around, in--apparently--feeding him cookies in the forest like an idiot. She held her cookies closer to her, baking a fresh batch and putting it on one of her nicer tupperware containers. She stepped over roots and around branches, navigating with some understandable difficulty to a pond she’d never been to before--or maybe she had, all ponds kinda looked the same to her. Ducking under a branch, she was happy to find a clothed Dario waiting for her. “Y-yeah…” she gulped, suddenly a little nervous. This was a man that’d seen her cry, supposedly, and that vulnerability she hadn’t meant to show. “That’s me!” Bo coughed, stepping closer to the man and holding out her little container of cookies, still hot. “I--uh--brought the--uh--um--you look good! W-with clothes! The clothes suit you!” She gulped, again. Her voice fell small as she continued, “p-p-please don’t take them off.”

Dario looked at her, and little flashes of his time as a jaguar came rushing back, making him wince a little. It was always disorienting when his lost memories decided to bombard him like that. But he remembered her cookies, and now he remembered the...crying. Why had she been sad? Meanwhile, a flash of relief also made its way through him, glad that she’d actually come. There was also a shred of guilt though, for so far having zero memories of her in highschool. It was only made worse by the knowledge that she’d help put up his posters. Normally, he might have made a joke about looking good without clothes as well, but that would most likely only make her more nervous that she appeared. Instead, he sat himself on the ground next to the pond, trying to appear non-threatening. “Thanks, you look good with clothes, too.” She really thought he was a nudist? “I promise I don’t make a habit of taking all my clothes off unless the other person wants me to. Thanks for ah- coming, though,” he finished, rubbing at the back of his neck. His nose twitched a little in excitement as he smelled what was in her tupperware. “You brought cookies?”

Bo shifted uncomfortably, kicking at the dirt below and watching it give to her in a way the world didn’t. “D-d-don’t compliment me,” she stammered, holding the cookies out while turning her gaze anywhere but at him. This was so much worse in person. The vision of his abs was burned into her eyes, practically, and it was all she could see. Now she felt like one of those girls that spent highschool tripping over themselves for him--except she didn’t like him, she just turned red like she did. “Oh, um, I did!” She smiled, stilling avoiding his eyes, and opened the container. The cookies shone in all their lumpy, misshapen glory. One of them was even a dark, almost moldy-green! Just for that extra kick! She thought Dario might like the color, so she tried to mix one up a little special for him. Nevermind that it was splotchy, and the choice of white-chocolate chips was questionable. “Try one!”

Dario frowned for a moment. Didn’t girls usually like it when you complimented them? Something that simply added to his confusion was the concept of wanting Bo to like him, and having to… work for it? It was true that he was much changed from highschool, not as openly charismatic, or sending a charming smile to anyone that looked his way. And he couldn’t entirely explain the need he had for the girl’s approval. Maybe it was simply because he wanted someone who knew where he’d been for the last thirteen years of his life. “Why shouldn’t I compliment you?” he asked, eyes not leaving her face. As she turned pink, that was an expression he recognized, though he couldn’t be sure what had caused it. But then she smiled, and he was set a bit more at ease. That was something, right? “It’s true though- I remember thinking you were pretty.” His back straightened as he craned over the cookies, perhaps a bit too eager. “Oh, thanks.” Anything was a welcome respite from eating exclusively ramen. Naturally, the green one drew his eye, and he plucked it from the bunch. Had he seen a green cookie before? It wasn’t until the thing was in his mouth that he tasted the chocolate. He probably shouldn’t eat it, but surely just a few bits of lactose wouldn’t make him keel over, right? Then he patted the forest floor next to him, signaling that she should sit. He was still curious why she’d been crying, but figured it wasn’t the best conversation starter. “So...do you like the forest?”

Why shouldn't she be complimented? Wasn't that the question? Bo sighed, mouth shut tight around the right answer. That she wasn't good with them, that she never felt like a single one was deserved or truthful, or more obviously in this case, that she didn't want one from an alleged nudist. "I just don't like them," she admitted quietly after a moment. "Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes, a small laugh fluttering out of her mouth. "You didn't even remember me! And you probably think every girl is pretty." Being called pretty really wasn't much of a compliment coming from a guy like Dario, and even less knowing he'd slept with Beatrice. Beatrice was far prettier, unmistakably. But she watched him take a cookie, the one she made special for him, and bite into it without fear or coercion. She smiled a little wider and took a seat beside him. "It's—uh, nice?" Bo glanced around, the pond was serene, the trees were tall. Seemed like a nice spot to cry. "You said you liked it here?" She turned to look at him, "c-can I ask why that is? It kinda just seems like any old pond."

The little line between Dario’s brow deepened, not sure what to make of Bo and her aversion to compliments. Further than that, she was confusing him. She’d seemed...more sure of herself online, all too willing to yell at him about being a nudist. And now here she was stuttering through sentences. “To be fair— I’ve been having memory problems recently, and since I disappeared...and some of the time surrounding it.” Nevertheless, he gave her a slow and lingering once over, trying to will himself to remember something about her from highschool. It was no use, and he turned away in frustration, chewing angrily on his cookie. Had he really not noticed her in highschool? That was rather...shitty of him to do, wasn’t it? “I think a decent amount of girls are pretty, but not all girls. I mean we all have our preferences, right?” He looked towards her again, taking her in. “And you align with mine,” he finished with a simple shrug. Dario’s gaze shifted back to their surroundings., feeling a bit more serene as he took them in. “Well the pond is deep, and nice to swim in. And I liked climbing the trees. They were sturdy and tall. Also not many people came by here.” Then he realized such a phrase might offend her. “Not that I minded when you came by wherever I was.”

“So you...didn’t run away to be a nudist?” Bo looked over at him again, considering for the first time that maybe her idea was a little ludacris. Maybe, instead, that something terrible happened--like everyone had thought. But what explained the days spent in the woods? The days he seemed to remember being fed cookies? “I--uh--woah!” She blinked at him, “s-slow down! You’ll choke on the cookie!” She sighed, shaking her head. And then he continued and concern grew into shock and then anger, and then angry shock. “I said don’t compliment me!” She swatted at him, knocking her free hand gently against his, surprisingly, toned shoulder. At least the casual compliment-giving Dario seemed more like the one she knew, half-knew. “You...swim in there?” She looked back at the pond, brows furrowed in worry again. “You climbed the…” the way Dario was describing it, he sounded like some kind of feral jungle man living out Tarzan in the woods. But why? She opened her mouth to ask when he spoke again, and more than being called pretty, this struck her. “You mean...when I was crying? You didn’t mind that?” Bo turned to him, tilting her head. “I wasn’t...interrupting your manly jungle time; climbing trees and yodeling?”

This time, her nudist comment only earned her a gentle eye roll from Dario, finding her seemingly beginning to accept reality a bit amusing. “I did not run away to be a nudist,” he confirmed. Did she think that joining a nudist colony had been his response to his family being murdered and their house being burnt to the ground? She’d know about that, wouldn’t she? After all, she’d said she put up posters. Which reminded him of something he’d been wanting to ask. “Why’d you put up the missing posters of me? Or were you already working for the police?” One of the things that had unsettled him when he’d returned back was realizing just how ready White Crest had been to forget that he’d ever existed. Though...he supposed he couldn’t completely blame them. He’d only lived there for a year before everything went South. Still, it wasn’t the best feeling to realize that there was no one to welcome you back after being missing. However it was nice to think that...someone hadn’t forgotten he existed, even for a little while, and even if it was their job. Her insistence about the cookie made him pause for a moment, surprise flitting over his features before amusement took hold once again. But what garnered his first little smile since seeing her was, perhaps counterintuitively, the way she hit him. “Is this assault? Are you trying to go to jail right now? I know a cop. You know that, right?” Nevermind that the cop was her. “And I wasn’t even trying to compliment you! I was just saying the fact! Am I not allowed to say facts about you being attractive?” What was so confusing about swimming in a pond, though? “Yes? It’s nice and refreshing. And I like the way the water feels when I move in it.” Was this a part of her still refusing to believe that he’d been the jaguar? And he hadn’t meant to make it sound like he didn’t mind that she was crying. That made him sound insensitive, didn’t it? Of course, to be honest, he hadn’t really had much of a concept of crying when he was a jaguar. “I just mean- it’d been...a while since I’d seen a human. One that I didn’t want to...ignore, or have them not see me. So it was nice to have the change.” And have the person that had somehow triggered the change back to human for him. A light snort shook him. Manly yodeling. Where did she come up with these phrases? Alright, she definitely didn’t believe the jaguar thing still. “You know- I could show you how I climb the trees.” Maybe this was his chance to prove it to her.

Bo, still set in her nudist idea, simply gave Dario a solemn nod. His next question caused her to fall over, staring at him up from her place on the ground. “Why….why wouldn’t I put posters?” She didn’t answer the other part, the first thing having struck her as so completely stupid. “Why wouldn’t I care? I c-care about everyone that goes missing...and you--I knew you. I would have done anything to help. I s-still would.” She righted herself, coughing and swiping away dirt. “I don’t just care because it’s my job to, you know.” She sighed, looking at the pond and its steady waters. Oh, to be a pond in the middle of the forest where a weird nudist man would swim in you...well, maybe she wasn’t so jealous of that last part, but the steadiness was enviable. “I care. I care about you. I care about everyone. I cared that you were gone, and I care that you’re back. I keep---I keep track of it...or I used to. It’s depressing but I think...maybe if I remember every name and face that I’ll know if I see them somewhere, and if they come back they’ll know at least one person was waiting for them. But there’s been so many people gone, it got impossible to keep up with.” Not to mention her own missing father. Well, especially not to mention him, because she didn’t want to talk about it.

She snickered, now given completely to the idea of finally smiling. “You know, technically it is assault! That--” Bo paled, “oh no! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to--” she pulled herself back from him, conscious to make sure no parts of their bodies were touching. Eventually she realized it was easier to stand and so she shot up. “I-It’s not a fact. Being attractive is subjective. A f-fact is that you….h-have nice arms! Oh no, wait, that’s also subjective…” Her brows furrowed and her attention fell back on to the pond. Oh to be a body of water instead of a bumbling young woman. “You could...just go to a public pool.” Rather than a pond with who-knows-what in it. But he was fine and not covered in a flesh eating bacteria so maybe it was okay anyway. “See you...climb a tree?” She looked back at him, “that’s...okay? Okay, sure? I guess? I’ll watch you climb a tree.” It was the oddest thing to offer to do, and odder still that she accepted it. But he ate her cookies, and somehow that was important here.

Dario stayed silent throughout her explanation, eyes intent on Bo as she spoke and not breaking away. Perhaps one of the things he still needed to get used to when it came to being a human again was appropriate amount of staring and eye contact. But he only had vague memories of her as a jaguar, and most of them were of the girl crying. Now, he found himself wanting to know what she looked like when she was wearing other emotions, to see what form her features took as other thoughts and feelings flickered over her face. And the fact that she felt so...much for these people, people like him. The fact that someone hadn’t forgotten about him, even if he hadn’t been in her thoughts every day, and even if they hadn’t been friends...it was comforting. To know that his existence hadn’t just been a blip, a fluke, that all he’d ever been was the popular boy girls liked to chase after. The thought gave him another stab of guilt. To think that she’d been out here doing her best to find missing persons, himself included. And...he couldn’t be bothered to remember what she even looked like in highschool. He wasn’t sure what to say, a foreign sort of thrumming coming from somewhere in his chest making it confusing to find proper words. For a moment his voice caught in his throat, and then he tried to clear it. “Thanks,” he started simply. “Thanks for...caring. You’re a good person, Bo.” Certainly better than himself. Most likely better than the majority of people on this Earth. The girl went around putting up missing posters and handing out cookies to stray jaguars. That was more than enough to prove his point. Her caring did something else though. It made...part of him want to try. Certainly she deserved that in return. His voice was more sincere this time as he spoke, “Um- why were you crying? In the forest?” He was an ass for not having already asked wasn’t he?

For a beautiful moment, his own smile widened into a genuine grin, enjoying her snickering despite himself. Christ, he hadn’t felt this human since...he wasn’t sure how long. But her quick turn from joy resulted in his face falling into confusion, unsure what had happened. “Bo—” he began, reflexively reaching up to try and lightly grasp her wrist. “Bo, you’re fine. I’m joking.” Then he was straightening himself from the ground, standing in front of her. She was getting flustered again, it seemed, and he did his best to try not to make it worse. Still, he couldn’t stop the smirk from sliding back over his lips. “You think I have nice arms?” he asked, brows raised in a small tease. “But fine, whatever. I find you subjectively attractive, then. It’s a fact to me, though,” he finished nonchalantly. “Mmm, pools have lots of people. And lots of those people are often screaming kids.” As she agreed to the tree watching, an unexpected bundle of nerves sprouted in his stomach. He’d been so keen to have her actually know it had been him in the forest, to...prove that they didn’t just know each other from highschool and her putting up the posters. But what if she reacted negatively? The only person in White Crest who genuinely cared that he’d returned, had remembered he was gone...what if that care went away? “Alright- uh- don’t freak out...okay? And don’t worry, my clothes will stay on. Just like...try to be...calm...please.”

Bo tensed, gazing into the still pond again. Being called a good person was...odd. Like any other compliment, she didn’t know how to accept it...or if she could. If he changed his mind, would she still get to keep the words? If she didn’t always feel like a good person, did that make his words more or less true? She clenched her hand, drawing dirt and bits of dead grass into her palm. “Everyone’s a good person...deep down, I think.” And so she decided it wasn’t much of a kind thing to say, because it was true of everyone, and she was as special as the masses--which was to say, not at all. Like this, she could take his words with more comfort. “Why was I crying here?” She looked at him, as though the answer was obvious and she shouldn’t have been asking. She’d come here adamant on not talking about the why so much, maybe explaining a lie to two about it. But Dario was being so honest, so giving...it was only fair she offered him some of that back. And maybe part of her wanted to. Part of her hoped he might not laugh. That he might understand it. “There’s nowhere else to cry, really. Not any place people don’t try to ask questions or...give advice. It’s--I’m really tired of the advice. It’s nice, I guess. People see someone cry and they try to stop it but...the solutions I want, they don’t have so it’s kinda pointless.” She looked back at the pond, imaging she might have filled her own once with how much she sobbed. “I dunno. I cry about everything. I can’t cry at the station, so I come here. I can cry about people who get hurt, people who go missing, people who are sad and can’t cry.” Herself, even. “When you hold everything in...it’s nice to just let it out. It makes the holding in a little easier.” And that was more she’d shared to someone else in years. The exchange left her breathless and eager to move on.

The officer shook her head, “I do! They’re kind of like really muscular trees!” It would be nice to be held by them, hugged. Not that she’d ever ask. At all. Ever. “You don’t like kids? They’re just really happy to be in water...I dunno what it is about kids and water. They go nuts.” Not that she understood it, she hadn’t swam since she was a child either. She hoped it was a skill that stuck, on the off-chance Dario threw her in the pond. Which she wasn’t yet convinced wouldn’t happen. “Why would I freak out?” She looked at him, blinking in confusion. She sat back down, and then sat up and then down and then decided that standing would give her the best view of...Dario climbing a tree. “Please commence operation tree climb, Captain Dario. The leaves await you!” She beamed, happy for the first time in...well, a long time. Everything she did was tinged with sadness, but for a moment, with the absurdity of watching the only man who enjoyed her cookies climb a tree, it didn’t matter. It could be okay, maybe. “I’ll be calm, you weirdo. Promise.”

Again Dario felt a frown tug at his lips. Certainly, she’d said she didn’t like compliments, but this was hardly a compliment, right? What was so bad about being called a good person? Yet again, he did his best to rebuttal her words, as if determined to make his sentiment stick. “No, they’re not,” he said bluntly. An old rage for the Hunters that had killed his family began to surface, but he quickly tamped that down, not needing it at the moment. “And even if they were, not many would be as good as you.” But he stilled once more as she decided to go on another lengthy explanation. Not that he was complaining. He liked listening to her talk, and the more she did it, the more he remembered having enjoyed it when he’d been a jaguar as well, even if a decent amount of it had been crying. Dario hadn’t meant the location so much as the why, but he listened still, content to hear whatever she saw fit to share. “People...don’t know what to do when someone cries. Or when they’re sad. They just want it to stop when it’s around them. So they try and offer shitty solutions.” She cried about...all these things? Bo probably thought more about others in the span of a single minute than he ever had in his entire life. And he hadn’t been the one to think about people and their bleeding hearts before, “Then I’m glad I came back. To give you less missing people to cry about.” He was surprised to find that the words were true, often warring with himself when it came to whether he should just go back to the forest, live out the rest of his life as a jaguar. Dario knew he’d go back one day, after everything was done, and after he got rid of those that had harmed his family. Being human...it just wasn’t right anymore. Not after everything that had happened, not with this burning grief in the pit of his stomach that he refused to acknowledge. He’d have to tell Bo when he changed back. Have to lie and say he was moving somewhere so that he didn’t add again to her pile of missing people she cried about. And just like that— he’d become one of the problem solvers he’d been so cynical of only moments ago. But it hadn’t only been because he was uncomfortable with the thought of her crying. He just wanted her...happier. So that maybe she didn’t have to spend quite so much time crying in the forest. “But uh-” Had it helped when he’d been her for her crying? Even if he’d been a jaguar. “You know- if you didn’t want to- cry...by yourself. I could uh- be here. Or whatever. Like before.” Absently, he rubbed at the back of his neck with a raised arm, obviously on shaky ground when it came to doing things like this. “I promise not to say shit. It’s probably safer for you, too. Keep the nudists away.” Was that weird? Was it...strange to offer to be there for someone when they cried?

A relieved sigh found him grinning once more, eyes crinkled in the slightest as they sailed back into more familiar waters when it came to topics of conversations. “You could touch them if you wanted.” Had he ever had his arms be compared to trees before? It was becoming clearer that her unique way of defining the world was something he enjoyed, something he found himself looking forward to whenever she answered once of his questions or spoke. “And I don’t mind kids. I swear they just turn into little gremlins at the pool.” With that, he was done being able to put off showing her at least a part of the jaguar, and he was left facing the tree in question. “Well I can’t keep the leaves waiting. I don’t mind Captain Dario, though.” A small, last joke to try and steel himself for any reaction she might have. But...so far things had been good, right? “Alright. Here we go.” With that, he willed his claws to slip out, letting the partial transformation take hold and holding his hands out for Bo’s inspection. “These...make it pretty easy to climb the trees.”

As clear as day, as simple as the fall of night and the change to day, Bo retorted without missing a single beat. “They are,” she asserted, looking at Dario with an unwavering resolve. “I know---I know what you mean. I’m an officer and I know. I know what people do, I’ve seen it. But you have to believe that deep down we are all creatures of good, capable of good. That we can be misguided, but we are good still. It’s---” her resolve shattered as she went on, and she blinked, lashes fluttering. “What else is there then? If you don’t believe?” Is that what Dario thought of the world? Should she have asked him what actually happened? Should she have inquired into his truth? She thought she might have been doing a kindness. Her normal nosy attitude pushed people away...as much as she didn’t really know Dario, she didn’t want to push him away. “I’m glad you came back too...but not for me. So you don’t have to live in a forest. So you can have people again.” She smiled, weak, but a smile nonetheless. And then, a laugh--equally as watery and weak, but a laugh just as genuine as the smile. “It’s okay, Dario. I think I should probably learn to stop crying so much…” she trailed off, her smiling growing just a little bigger; more valiant as she looked at him. “We can...do that for each other...you know? I can be your person and you can be mine? We can...cry with each other?” Was that dumb? It was probably dumb. “I don’t think either of us should be so alone, I mean! A-and I am really happy you’re back, even though I don’t know you so well!” It was weird. And it was getting weirder the more she went on so Bo swallowed back more of her word-vomit and moved on. “Yep! One nudist is enough for me.”

And it had been going fine, away from her weirdly personal babble and into more lighter territory until---”TOUCH THEM!?” Bo blinked, a slowly reddening face screaming her thoughts on that idea. “No, no, no, no,” and then she screamed them. “Absolutely not! I will not be doing---there will be no touching of you!” She gestured to him, scoffing like a nun. “Yeah! The kids turn into gremlins!” She whacked him again, finding that even in her embarrassment, she liked his company. And this odd humor they’d struck. “Okay, there, Captain. You--” she froze, staring at his hands. Had his nails always been that long? Wasn’t there some personal hygiene issue about that? Certainly, she hadn’t just watched them grow from him. That was absurd. She must simply have been too distracted from his tree-trunk arms to notice his clawed nails. “...You should really cut your nails, Dario. I mean...it’s pretty gross to let them grow out like that and is that--are they sharp? Did you sharpen your own nails?” She glanced at him, opinion skewed again. He had a nice heart though, and she was the one going on about believing in the good. “Uh, well, I’d be worried you’d break a nail if you used those. Are you sure this is safe for you?” At least he wasn’t nude...although maybe she wouldn’t have minded that.

Dario wasn’t sure if he agreed with her beliefs when it came to people. As much as he might want to think that people were pre-dispositioned to be good, that the goodness was always lingering inside them somewhere, fueling at least a little of their actions...he couldn’t let himself. How could he reconcile such a concept with the picture of the Hunters that had killed his family, that had murdered a little girl without hesitation...How could a person like that have even a single grain of goodness in them? But he wasn’t sure how to answer her question. What else was there? “I- maybe just...people. People that...aren’t good or evil. I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure whether he actually agreed with his answer, but he hadn’t wanted to disappoint Bo by not giving one whatsoever. And beyond that- he liked the certainty with which she spoke of her belief. That believing— it reminded him of how she wanted each and every person to come home, and that wasn’t something he wanted her to lose. So he could have people again. He didn’t know how to tell her that he wasn’t interested in people this time around. That picking up people meant you could lose them, and he wasn’t interested in losing people anymore. Nevertheless, he did his best to mirror her wan smile, not wanting her to be unhappy. “Honestly- the forest wasn’t bad.” Probably actually better than the weird cat lady garage he was currently staying in. “Especially since a pretty girl liked to come along and visit. Even if she was sad, sometimes. And that’s not a compliment,” he tacked onto the end, even if it was a lie. It seemed there was a direct link between her grin strengthening, and his own growing wider, but he still felt those nerves bundled with dread in his stomach. And yet...for a moment he decided to try and ignore them, to give Bo something she wanted, and give himself what he wanted as well if he were willing to admit it to himself. “I wouldn’t mind being your person.” He tried not to think about what would happen to her when he had to leave. Then he was blinking a bit owlishly, her words reminding him that there was truly no real explanation for the strange little string he seemed to feel that linked them together, that she knew him even less than he thought he knew her. She didn’t believe the jaguar stuff had really happened...right? “Yes. I’d probably just be jealous of any other nudists in your life.”

This time, his grin was brighter as she blushed, with a hint of a smirk as well. Old habits died hard, he supposed. “Alright, you don’t have to touch me. Should I touch you, then?” he teased, hand barely raised in her direction. An actual chuckle fell from him as she landed her hit, his head nodding forward a bit with the motion. “You said you wouldn’t touch me and then...you touch me. Do you see how I might be getting some mixed signals here, Bo?” You should really cut your nails, Dario. Well. At least she hadn’t freaked out. However at the same time...this wasn’t exactly...progress. “No- it’s not my nails,” he said, trying to hold them out further, retracting them into his hand, and then letting the claws slip loose once more. “It’s- I know you...you have to remember seeing...a jaguar...right?

Bo held herself, eyes fixed back to the pond—still, steady water. A sight she could parse, a sight that had easy answers. Maybe people weren't good or bad but then...what was the point? If everything was neutral then where did the hope go? She didn't answer his speculation, she thought even entertaining an idea like that would strike her frail optimism down. She looked back at him, hoping he'd understand that she'd been lying just a little; she needed that hope. She needed to believe. Even if everyone else didn't, she had to. But these were grand questions, probing introspection that she didn't want to get into. He'd already seen her cry, would he have to know how fragile each part of her felt? She'd never known how to lay those parts bare without thundering guilt striking behind each confession. "But it's a forest, there's no plumbing out here." She already felt like he knew too much and her throat tightened around her words, begging she swallow it all back down. Instead, she smiled a little wider still and let him go on. "Then it's official," Bo grinned, shyly tucking away strands of her hair behind a reddening ear. "We're each other's people." His height never bothered her until she decided she wanted to look him in the eyes properly. She propped her hand on her hip, indignant, just to make it seem like she wasn't hopelessly gazing up—wishing on whatever stars she could see. "I'd be jealous of any other police officers in your life." A beat. She threw up her hands a moment later. "Uh, b-but not really because you should definitely seek the help of everyone on the force if you ever need it!"

Bo didn't know her face could burn as much as it was now. "I'm not—hitting doesn't count as touching! It's not touching! I'm not touching! There will be no touching!" She jammed her hands into the tiny pockets of her jeans, awkwardly kicking at the ground. "I'll mix your signals," she grumbled, "you giant nudist with meaty arms." Bo had also never really learned how to insult people just right, though it wasn't a skill she ever wanted. Her eyes turned to his hands and she stumbled back, blinking. "That's some...interesting make-up work…" Stage plays used something similar for those fake-knives, didn't they? But she'd never seen it so realistic, done so effortless. Even Beatrice's magic (which was also fake) didn't look this good...then again, she never did look at it this closely, more marveled by the spectacle of it. "Jaguar?" She glanced up, meeting his eyes again. "That—that—" she had remembered one. But that was him...in a jaguar-suit? With those fake-claws? Was he trying to say that not only was he a nudist, he was one of those people that dressed up like animals? Bo stumbled backwards, inching away from Dario. "Y-yes I—I sometimes see things when I'm crying. It gets—I get really dehydrated... that's probably why. Jaguars don't live in Maine."

Dario didn’t feel any need to push the conversation about good and bad, pure and evil. That was something he himself didn’t have any wish to delve into, not wanting to burden himself with the emotional baggage that would seep into such a conversation. Besides, who was he to try and break Bo’s worldview? By the looks of it, she already had enough reasons to cry, and he was a little surprised to find that somewhere in the last fifteen minutes, he’d decided to never be a reason she felt the need to run to the forest and let tears loose. And yet, it was still impossible to not give a little sigh as she spoke about plumbing, obviously still not willing to marry the concepts of the jaguar she fed in the forest, and the man that stood before her. “No plumbing is correct.” But the warm little feeling in his chest was quickly returning as they got back to their declarations of people, and his soft smile was blooming in another moment. “Then it’s official,” he echoed, feeling a little stupid for how...content he felt in the moment. To think that he had someone here in White Crest that would be his person, and vice versa. It’d been far too long since he’d felt the bond of another human in a way such as this. Perhaps...he’d missed it more than he’d been willing to admit. “Don’t worry, Bo. I promise— you’re the only police officer for me,” he said, slipping into more flirtatious cadences once again without so much as blinking.

God, it was cute the way her face just lit up to the color of a tomato though, wasn’t it? And it couldn’t be his fault if he found himself increasingly endeared. Who wouldn’t have such a reaction to a sight such as this? “It definitely counts. It’s too late, Bo. You already touched me. There’s no going back, now.” He dropped the hand he’d teasingly been inching towards, not wanting to make her uncomfortable if he was misreading the situation. “You can mix my signals any time you’d like to,” he continued on in that smooth, effortless tone. He held his breath as she stepped back, a pang of nerves entering his stomach as fear made itself known. Would he lose this person so quickly? All because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing? “It’s not make-up, Bo,” he said gently, sincerely— very much disliking the hint of vulnerability that was coming through his voice now. “You’re right, they don’t live in Maine. Not regular jaguars, anyway.” Fuck, she was backing away again. A flash of panic set in, not wanting to drive Bo away. “Bo- please. I’m not- making this stuff up. I promise,” a hint of pleading entered his tone, along with a sense of worry.

Bo beamed, warmth settling into her in waves. It was official, she smiled. They were each other’s people, the definition of which she wasn’t entirely sure about but she liked the idea all the same. “And you’re the only nudist for me!” She beamed back innocently, whatever flirtatious tone he took, she was unaware of. She never was the best at reading those kinds of things.

Except...this did kind of sound like flirting, didn’t it? “Oh,” Bo squeaked, trying to figure out if he was earnest or not. Probably not. He did this sort of thing with women all the time, right? He probably did it with Beatrice too which made her feel...something. Something she definitely didn’t want to address. But really, was it any of her business knowing her ex-friend turned tentative-friend slept with the hot nudist with the tree-trunk arms? No. And so, like most things that didn’t make sense, she ignored the feeling. “I don’t want to touch or mix your signals!” She coughed to hide her impossibly red face. Eventually, the redness did fade, replaced with paleness. She continued to stumble back. “Th-that’s so cool, Dario!” Her laugh was nervous. Could she remember the way out of the forest? Was it a left and a right and then a left? Or was it two rights? “If it’s not make-up then what---” she gulped. She didn’t want to know. “You’re not...you’re not one of those people are you?” The small population in White Crest that screamed about Vampires and Werewolves and now...Jaguar people? No. That couldn’t be right. They were each other’s people. Dario wouldn’t do this to her. He wouldn’t be like them, he wouldn’t throw his life away like her father had. “A furry!” She quickly corrected herself, “okay, wow! That’s sooo neat!” She picked up her things, leaving the box of cookies for him. “So awesome! I like Garfield too! Or whatever furries like.” Bo was nearly crawling away before she paused. Dario was being sincere and she was being...rude? “Okay,” she sighed, “It’s just---It’s getting late. And I need to...water my plants.”

Dario’s eyeroll and matched sigh were gentle enough, still simply pleased to have made a...friend? How long had it been since he made a new friend? He was fairly certain the bear he’d meet in the forest and sometimes hung around as a jaguar didn’t really count, even if they’d hung out a good amount...if you could consider a jaguar and a bear lying in the tree branches making various noises at one another...hanging out. A low chuckle rumbled through him while Bo’s face was still pinkened, and her voice was possibly too high pitched for her own good. This was the second time the word ‘cute’ had leapt unbidden to his mind, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. Better just take it for what it was. If he found her cute, it made sense. Who wouldn’t? “You don’t have to touch me, Bo. Only if you want to, like I said. Just let me know,” he teased a bit longer, though his voice had toned i’s smooth and effortless flirtatious air down a few notches, a bit worried Bo might spontaneously combust.

All that joy was once again replaced by dread, disappointment, and a tinge of guilt. He shouldn’t have shown her, right? He’d made a mistake. But was it his fault for wanting the girl who’d somehow brought him back to the human world to fully understand what she’d done? Just how much he owed her? And should he be condemned for hoping that...she’d be happy to know him both as himself and as the jaguar? As quickly as they’d appeared, that claws were gone, and Dario was holding his hands alongside his head as if surrendering. “Sure, if that’s what you want to think...sure.” It wouldn’t be the first time he was called a furry. At this point, he was willing to go along with whatever she might say in hopes that she might stop looking at him like he was- well....a freak. To top it all off, it seemed like the chocolate chips that had been in her cookies decided to take their vengeance, his stomach gurgling and rolling in a very unpleasant manner. If he didn't want to make an even bigger fool of himself, Dario needed to get out of here as well. “Sure,” he repeated, retreating back into the closed off shell he’d made for himself upon returning to human-kind. “You go do that.” Taking a few steps back to give her some space, his hands thrust themselves into his pockets before he remembered to say. “Thanks...for the cookies.”

Bo lingered at the edge of the clearing, hand pressed to the rough bark of a tree. She watched him for a moment, seemingly defeated, and waited. Part of her thought he might transform into that strange Jaguar she saw in her tear-filled delusions, part of her thought his eyes had that same curiosity, tinged with that same sadness. Her fingers twitched against the bark and she fought back the urge to go to him, to ease away pain, to make things better like she always wanted to. She didn't like the way he nearly curled into himself, she liked him open and laughing and joking and saying he was her person, a lot better. She could fix this. She could fix that sadness. She could for him, and she would for everyone else in this town. "Dario," she called out, "thank you...for inviting me here." She bit her lip, searching for more words, "and thank you for...taking your fursuit out and listening to me cry and letting me rub your belly and—" she gulped. That wasn't exactly the comfort she was trying to go for. "You're a good guy, Dario. I hope good things happen to you." And with that, she left, mind on the strange man by the pond.

#// don't ask me how this got this long #we had feelings #wickedswriting #ch:Bo #chatzy #send nudists

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