"I promised not to kill him," the shifter answered lightly, pushing off from the wall to trail after their ill-clothed entourage. "Didn't seem like a bad idea at the time."

>> “Make sure you clean that properly. Nothing rusts a blade quicker than blood,”

"I wiped the blood off," Malako answered defensively. "What, is there something else?" How was he supposed to know if there was? He wasn't exactly taking Stabbing People 101. Sebastian was teaching him to fight, not to clean up his mess afterwards. Nice oversight there, Boss Man.

Way to suck up to the new guy, too. Oh, disgraced feline, be nice. Oh, Prince Andrew, let us get you properly attired to ward off a chill to your noble blood.

"What a shame that would be," Calley snarked, walking behind the guy.

Pain and possible death, along with the ever visible sign of a permanent mark on the skin. Gods, that could be useful. If he wanted to be, the boy could be king of the world by now. He'd probably look like a Maori native, but no one would care at that point. He'd be king. He would probably start a whole new fashion trend that healers like Sebastian could never be a part of.

Theoretically, if that was coupled with immortality so promises could theoretically last for all eternity, he could bind a whole army of immortals to his will.

That was a truly terrifying thought.

Also, an intriguing one.

It sounded as though the power was a double edged sword, which meant it could potentially be used against him.

There was so much potential here.

“A little water will take care of any residue, then rub it completely dry with a soft cloth,” he informed his sarcastic sidekick. “There is probably an extra shirt in the clothing bin you could use.”

Malako's promise had been to not kill the boy. Then he had stabbed him through the stomach. Then he had turned him into a dog and brought him straight to a healer to keep him from dying. Was that because of a sudden change of heart, or was that the power of the promise he had made? No wonder he was sulking about it.

Well he had better deal with his issues, because it was about to become his job to get to know the green haired boy better. A lot better. Sebastian had decided; they needed this boy on their side.

After the ever awkward explanations were through the white haired man appeared to have no more interest in Drew. His attention split off to Malako, or Short Stuff as Drew preferred to call him. With advice on cleaning his sword. Strange healer. Either way, Drew was left for a time to consider his position carefully. It wasn't one that Drew liked. Though the issue of clothes was soon to be sorted there was still the fact that the guy that had brought him here was not happy with him. Sure he hadn't been overtly bitter or vengeful toward him since the initial stabbing but Drew wasn't about to trust a brand new promise and a healer of unknown intentions with his continued health.

Short Stuff was likely still angry about the promise that Drew was NEVER going to release if he had his way. And the healer had no say in who he healed apparently. Didn't ask questions. Didn't even pause to consider Drew before he healed him. He just did. So he was either just that nice, not likely with Short Stuff working for him, or he had no more control of his healing than Drew did of his promises. Plus he was just plain wary of people that toted swords that casually now.

So upon reaching the clothing bins Drew rapidly collected a few items that looked like they'd fit.

"Thanks for all this, by the way." he addressed toward the white haired man as he retreated from the room toward the back of the church. Maybe with some luck he could find a way out of the this place, and thus away from possible further damage from a sharp implement, in the back. After he got dressed of course.

"Hey--!" So much for first dibs. Which he had clearly called. What, did the guy shove people out of the front seat when they called shotgun? Sit on people if a couch got too crowded? Punch random guys as he walked down the street?

Jerk.

Calley had been eyeing that shirt, too. It looked half-way decent, and he was used to wearing baggy clothes: partly from using the donations bin as his own personal closet, and partly because if he shifted to something small, it was easier to find his way out of an XL neck hole than it was an XS.

Also, the sudden modest act: uh-huh. Guy was trying to run out the nearest exit with his pants in his arms, wasn't he? Good riddance. Calley turned his back on the unicorn, and wiggled out of his own worse-for-wear clothes. The coat he'd try to salvage: even if it had gotten the worst of Run Forest Run's splatter, it was also... red. The blood hadn't really dried yet, either. Calley had looked up how to deal with blood stains: according to the internet, he still stood a chance at saving the thing. Unlike if he let it sit around for a few days...

New jeans were requisitioned, along with a belt to hold them on. With a daffy duck shirt on top, he was officially presentable again. Though he still needed to wash his sword, apparently, with a soft cloth.

...He should probably wash his hands, too.

The green haired boy wanted privacy for changing, that was fine. Malako and his cartoon duck shirt did not get that luxury. Sebastian needed to talk to him.

“We need him,” the elder immortal intoned quietly as soon as a solid door closed between those who who never die and those who almost died that very evening. The unicorn man did not really think about waiting around until the younger immortal had pants on before telling him this.

“His power is too strong to not have on our side,” and it would make their side considerably stronger.

“It would be best if he came to us willingly, though,” force could work, but if they were all going to live forever, using force now could come back to bite them far in the future. If they committed to that sort of thing now, it was like making a promise to themselves that they always would. He was not about to commit to that if he could help it.

“I need you to find out more about him. Find out what his motivations are. Become his friend, whatever it takes.”

Malako was almost changed now. The duck shirt looked like its previous owner had been very young.

“Like I said before, you may need to start by being a little nicer.”

It didn't take long to get dressed in the simple outfit. Jeans, maybe a bit too tight but they'd do until he got home, and a plain light blue shirt that was a bit too large but would also make do. Now there were more important things to do. Like try to find a way out of this place. Preferably without going past the Dynamic Duo with the Sharp Swords. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful. The fact was that he really was grateful for the healing. He'd just prefer to come back and express that thanks when Short Stuff wasn't there. Drew would feel a lot less threatened that way. So off he went to check the rear doors and see if he could find a way out.

The first door was locked.

So was the second.

By the time he reached the third door and gave it's handle a tentative wiggle Drew wasn't surprised at all when it didn't open. A couple of choice swears made it past Drew lips.

"What do I do now?"

His hand raked through his hair as Drew sighed. Time to go back to the men with swords and continue to play nice? Probably. It was with slightly slumped shoulders that Drew turned to head back to the clothing bins to find out just who it was, beyond a short stuff named Malako, that he'd met tonight.

Be nice. Make friends. Because the alternative was—

Ha. No. He wasn't really implying that, was he?

"Let me be very clear, Boss Man," Calley stated, baby blue eyes meeting Sebastian's levelly. "There is no 'it would be best.' If he doesn't want to join you, you are not going to make—"

Speak of the Greenhorn. What do you know, the guy actually came back. It took him longer than it would have reasonably taken to get dressed, but not long enough for Calley to get in his two cents into the pony bank.

The shifter turned to greet their esteemed guest with a positively radiant smile, a surplus of pearly white teeth, and a bonus arm slug around his neck to wrap tight around that ouroboros tattoo. Such a stylish mark. Wasn't he so glad that they were the best of matching buddies.

"Andrew Julius Leroy. You know what? My sage mentor here has helped me see the light: you and I are going to be such good friends. I'm just going to stick on you like tails on a puppy-dog. Ain't no one going to hurt my new best friend."

Was this friendly enough, Boss Man? He tightened his one-armed hug just a little, meeting the elder immortal's eyes. How about clear enough? Was he being clear enough, New Boss Man?

What a fun juxtaposition this was. Malako, the yes-man who bent over backwards to get him cars and apartments he didn't really need and more information than he could ever hope to use, could, in the same breath call him 'Boss Man' and then proceed to tell him in no uncertain terms what he, Sebastian, was going to do or not do.

Fuzzy eared little Malako had opinions about things. Cute.

>>“Ain't no one going to hurt my new best friend.”

Not even you, Boss Man. Sebastian knew how to read between the lines.

He smiled at the young immortal, an earnest smile, because as rebellious as Malako might be feeling, and as sarcastic as he was, he was still doing exactly as Sebastian wanted. In fact, he was even less worried about the possibility of having to force the green haired Styx to join them than he had been before now that the fledgling immortal was so adamantly opposed to the other alternative.

“Excellent. With you protecting him, I trust he'll have nothing to worry about.”

There wasn't the scarcest trace of sarcasm in the unicorn man's voice.

“Now, Andrew Julius Leroy, we have not yet been introduced properly,” for shame, Fuzzy. Where were his manners? “My name is Sebastian Csendes.” He offered his hand in the centuries old gesture of greeting.

Huh, had he interrupted something? Because that smile on Short Stuff was really starting to creep Drew out. As though the sword wielding nut job wanted to eat Drew and not in any way that Drew would find enjoyable in the slightest! And how had Short Stuff learned his name?! Much less the whole darn thing! It was unnerving is what it was! Was he psychic as well as immortal?! Oh wait...he'd rummaged through Drew's clothes and taken his wallet hadn't he? Yeah, yeah he did. His driver's license was in that wallet. And that particular piece of plastic had his full name on it.

Realizing that didn't stop that creepy smile though. Nor did it stop him from flinching when that arm went around his neck. His neck! It was a small flinch, lord knew he wouldn't forgive himself if he'd done much more than wince for a moment, but still. And the fact that there was subtext, sooo much subtext, beneath Short Stuff's words didn't make him feel any better. Was he making sure that the white haired man knew who was killing Drew? Or, and this was so improbable that he scoffed the moment he thought of it, warning said man away from hurting Drew? Bah, if he was warning the white haired man away it was just so that he could kill Drew later. Nope, that promise wasn't going aaaanywhere anytime soon.

And whatever it was either the healer hadn't picked up on it or he didn't care or he approved of it. Considering you would have had to been deaf and blind not to pick up the subtext in Short Stuff's statement Drew wagered it was one of the other two. That familiar feeling of being trapped was settling in and Drew didn't like it. Or if not trapped then at least woefully uninformed. Still, when in Rome and Short Stuff had made a point of using his full name.

"Nice to meet you. Malako already spared me the need to introduce myself. So thoughtful of him."

And he took the offered hand with a firm grip and shook it. Now how soon until he regretted it?

Yeah. Yeah, that was right: there was nothing to worry about, now that Andrew Julius was under his protection. It was good that the New Boss Man got that. He caught on much quicker than other Boss Men Calley had know, as to who would really be calling the shots. There would be no employee coercion in this evil organization: not if the Minion Union Rep had anything to say about it.

Under his bare arm, he felt the guy's flinch. Calley's grin wavered for a brief moment. That was... Eh. Whatever. The result was the same: the unicorn knew to keep his hooves off, and that was the important part; it really didn't matter what the puppy here knew or didn't know. Didn't change things.

Still. He could stop with the flinching. Calley hadn't even hurt him much.

...He discretely let his arm fall back to his own side, smile still on his face.

"The name's Calley, actually," he interrupted their chummy greetings. "Calley Swartz. Malako's just a nickname the Boss Unicorn calls me by."

Andrew Julius apparently didn't like being head locked by the immortal cat boy who had just stabbed him nearly to death then turned him into a puppy, introduced him to his unicorn boss and gave him used clothing from a donations box. Imagine that.

At least Malako was going to do what Sebastian asked, and recruit the boy in the most friendly of possible ways, completely coercion free. The elder immortal also got to learn something from this experience: while he could trust his fuzzy little sidekick with quite a lot, he had both a soft spot and a rebellious streak. That simply meant that there were still some things Sebastian would have to do on his own. That was fine; it was what he was used to.

“Well, it is quite late, and its been a long day. We should perhaps make our ways home for the evening. It was nice to meet you, Andrew. I hope you won't be afraid to come back again. I'd like to meet you again under less disagreeable conditions.”

Sebastian smiled sincerely and held the door for both of the boys. This way to the front door, gentlemen.

Ahh, the arm was back with it's rightful owner and Drew could breathe easy again. Short Stuff decided to interrupt Drew's greeting of his boss to correct him that, no his name wasn't Malako. It was in fact Calley Swartz. Huh, he'd still be Short Stuff to Drew but at least he could put a proper name to the face in case Short Stuff decided to attack him again. Of the two of them Drew felt much more comfortable around Sebastian. Then again that was probably because Sebastion hadn't flipped out on him and put a hole through his stomach. In fact Sebastian had put that hole to rights and boy was Drew glad of that. Drew managed a grin at Calley.

"Good to know."

Heck he even followed it with a wink. There was no better way to get rid of this nervousness than to flirt a little. Besides, maybe if he flirted enough Calley would shift him back into a dog. He'd truly enjoyed feeling free of his promises for a while. Flirting had seemed to rile Calley so Drew would just keep at that until he managed to get turned into a dog again!

Meanwhile Sebastian had apparently decided that that was enough for tonight and so was dismissing this little meeting. Drew shot a grateful smile to the white haired man.

"I'd like that too. Some time soon maybe?"

Taking the hint, Drew headed for the door that Sebastian held. He'd have to come back here some other time when he wasn't a puppy or bleeding out.

Grin and a wink. How cute. Julius Leroy wasn't mentally scarred for the rest of his life. Calley smiled back, a slow simple stretching of lips from ear to ear.

"Night, Boss Man. Don't forget, you need to pick which of those lawyers you want on your team. Have the portfolio ready on your desk by Tuesday, and leave the window open—I'll pick it up. Sometime." They really needed to get working on the guy's legal defense. Those wanted posters were way too corny, and he was pretty sure they had some undercover cops trying to sneak into the congregation. Not to mention Dr. Lewis. Maybe he should ask Lupe to keep a nose on them...

The unicorn held the door for them, like a proper vintage gentleman. Calley gave a little wave and a parting smile as it closed gently behind them.

...It was closed now, right? All the way? He cast a glance over his shoulder. Yep. Nothing but solid oak in the moonlight.

"Right, then." Calley shrugged into his slightly damp jacket, and tucked his sword into his belt as best he could. That'd do. With one hand, he reached out and poked Drew on the cheek. Just a light, friendly touch between best buddies. "So. I'm not dealing with you tonight. Which means you're coming with me to the Mansion, lover boy."

A puppy flopped on to the sidewalk, bundled neatly in its own clothes. Calley picked the whole lump up, and started walking.

He'd explain things to Cafas in the morning, as needed.

((ooc: Continued for Calley and Drew in Coming Through!))