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Fine Zinc Teeth
There was a time Jedao would have said that half a century was barely any time; less than a mortal life, not more than two generations. But the world has changed so much since he first put the Americans' uniform on. Even the uniform has changed - they don't call dance halls dance halls any more, for another thing. But the smell of the place - sweat, desire, alcohol - that much is the same.
He slinks in under a stranger's face, although he doesn't disguise his own scent when he smiles, glittering, at the bouncer: a flashed lure that Fives might not even notice or recognize, let alone pursue. It took a few months to get someone to handle all the things which apparently needed handling for his "retirement", and a few more to track down one particular squad of decommissioned weretroops, out of thousands, mostly paperless, in the busiest city this side of the Pacific. But Jedao did find them.
He dances without keeping track of the time, lets his face slowly slide back to its default arrangement, lets his spine relearn how to hold him up without being army rigid. He has several drinks - people buy them for him, which is nice; one or two of them he even dances with until they can't keep up with him any more. Fives rotates from the receiving line onto the floor as the night wears on and patrons get drunker, and he maneuvers himself into Fives' line of view, always moving, twisting, flashing glances that catch on Fives' eyes as the beat hits. Slowly, as if by the whim of the music, he draws closer.
He slinks in under a stranger's face, although he doesn't disguise his own scent when he smiles, glittering, at the bouncer: a flashed lure that Fives might not even notice or recognize, let alone pursue. It took a few months to get someone to handle all the things which apparently needed handling for his "retirement", and a few more to track down one particular squad of decommissioned weretroops, out of thousands, mostly paperless, in the busiest city this side of the Pacific. But Jedao did find them.
He dances without keeping track of the time, lets his face slowly slide back to its default arrangement, lets his spine relearn how to hold him up without being army rigid. He has several drinks - people buy them for him, which is nice; one or two of them he even dances with until they can't keep up with him any more. Fives rotates from the receiving line onto the floor as the night wears on and patrons get drunker, and he maneuvers himself into Fives' line of view, always moving, twisting, flashing glances that catch on Fives' eyes as the beat hits. Slowly, as if by the whim of the music, he draws closer.
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"I don't mind him," Jedao assures Cody, then waves a hand. "At ease, everybody, at ease forever, I'm retired," he announces, although there's no reproach in it for their hard-earned reflexes, and he flips Hardcase a Kennedy half dollar for winning the unspoken contest, because he is a terrible influence, grinning as he manages to catch it out of the air despite Hevy's scuffling attempts to intercept.
"Fives has been telling me stories about a roof garden, I'd love to see it," he adds, voice warmly hopeful without calling Tup out either by name or by gaze.
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"Hardcase!" comes Rex's voice from the kitchen, sharp and commanding, and Hardcase deflates almost visibly. "Get in here, it's your day for KP duty and these potatoes aren't mashing themselves!"
"Yessir," he calls, and turns towards a door to the left. "It's good to see you, sir!" he adds to the General before trotting obediently off.
"Jesse, Hevy," Cody adds. "Finish setting the table, we can all catch up with General Jedao over dinner. And Tup-" He turns and looks at the youngest member of their little clan, his voice going a little gentler as he smiles encouragingly at him. "Why don't you take the General up to the roof. Echo can help you show off your garden while Fives gets cleaned up for dinner." And he fixes Fives with a quelling glare, just daring him to protest being kept behind.
Fives rolls his eyes and sighs, prepared for the inevitable lecture on getting above his station. "It's Tup and Echo's garden, so they're the best to show it to you," Fives agrees, and even if he's annoyed at Cody he doesn't let any of it come through for Tup. "Go on, little brother. Take DB up with you too, he'll want to go see his dad now that we're here." He knows Echo had only left him behind because he'd have been beside himself trying to get down from the roof to greet him at the door otherwise.
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"I'm really glad I ran into you," Jedao says, low but definitely not too low for Cody to catch, even though it was less "running into" and more "determinedly tracking down." Even if Fives might hope or guess, none of them know. Then he releases Fives and follows Tup, trying to look mild and unintimidating without any real understand of what could make someone be intimating other than "being an angry dragon." He's certainly not angry, at least.
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Tup, for his part, is just as tall and almost as broad as his brothers, though he's clearly not carrying as much muscle mass. Still, he would probably be just about as intimidating to a stranger, but there's something a little subdued, maybe even timid about how he holds himself that makes him seem younger. Smaller. Altogether less imposing than his boisterous older brothers.
"I, uh... I don't remember if I ever thanked you, General," he murmurs about halfway to the stairs, only looking at the General out of the corner of his eye as he walks. "I don't... I don't remember a lot. From then. But Fives said-" He stops and chews at his chapped lips and reaches an open hand down that DB apparently recognizes as a request for reassurance, butting his broad head up under Tup's hand for him to ruffle his ears. "He said you kept them from, uh... putting me down. When I got sick."
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"Thank you, sir." He tips his head just a little, making tentative eye contact. It's nothing like the military bearing he was trained into, or that his brothers still display, but he's forgotten a lot of that too. Not all of it, but enough it's not his automatic default the way it still is theirs.
He pauses at the door leading out onto the roof, squares his shoulders, and finds the nerve to fully face the General, to look him in the eye and smile tentatively. "I wouldn't have made a soldier again, but... I love this life. My garden and my classes and my brothers. Thank you for giving me that chance."
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"I don't...often get to save people. I'm very glad it could be you. Thank you for - taking it. For making something good."
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He pauses with his hand still on the door, his smile gentle as DB waited patiently at his heels. "I think Dogma will want to thank you too, he just... needed a little more time." And so Echo had brought him up here, to the garden, and now Tup opens the door and lets DB bound through before following him out onto the sunlit roof, and the little corner of paradise he and Echo have been tending
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"Dogma can take as much time as he needs," Jedao murmurs, clearly enunciated, once the door is open. "I'm hoping to hang around for a little while."
He slides into foxform at Tup's heels, because it puts him more on a level with the plants, and it's convenient for sniffing and scampering around. Unlike the weres, he has a degree of flexibility with what happens to at least some of his clothes.
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Echo's crouching down already as the door opens, arms spread for DB to run into them, wriggling and whining and licking his face. No one's quite sure if DB knows Echo's his father, but they've all made sure to encourage the unique bond between the two for Echo's sake. The only sign of Dogma at first is a pair of golden eyes looking through the greenery from behind a bed of tomatoes, but when the General slips into his fox form he pokes his head, and then the rest of him, cautiously around the edge, his head down and his tail wagging tentatively.
Tup laughs and follows after DB and the General, waving to his older brother. "Cody made Fives stay downstairs for a talking to," he tells Echo as he pauses to check on plants before passing by. "Dinner will probably be on the table in ten or fifteen minutes."
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Echo and Tup settle themselves on a bench near the door to watch quietly as Dogma creeps out... and DB takes the opportunity of the General finally pausing to lick his uncle's nose to shove his own nose where it is not, politely, meant to go, sniffing industriously at the General's ass and crotch.
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He never really bites down: it's all surprise and no pain for the overeager pup, over in a handful of seconds, but the vulpine gesture of dominance translates neatly. Then Jedao licks his muzzle too, and hops over him to let him up. He circles around in a careless mince, and gets a quick sniff of Dronebait's ass before the bigger canine manages to get back to his feet. Jedao makes a cackling, yipping sound of playful amusement, and whacks Dronebait's back legs with the wedge of his head to nudge him up. He's perfectly friendly, but puppies will know their place, even mostly-grown ones with a hundred pounds on him.
Then Jedao goes back to paying attention to Dogma, nuzzling at his neck, tail wagging steadily again.
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Dogma, for his part, had sunk down to his belly the moment the General approached, all cowed submission and eager apology. The lick surprised him enough that he just watched DB's chastisement, but once it's done with he gives his nephew a quick nip to one ear to reinforce it. He clearly doesn't know what to make of the General's renewed attention, and he sinks down to his belly again, whining quietly and trying to lick submissively at the General's muzzle in response, but his tail actually relaxes a little, and makes a halfhearted start at wagging at the clear affection and reassurance in it.
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After a few minutes, once Dogma is mostly relaxed underneath him, Jedao slides back into manform, legs tucked under him now, still pressed against the bulk of the werewolf's side, petting Dogma gently. The fox's pleased high trills slide into baritone words without so much as a missed breath.
"You're a good boy, that's right. I'm very glad to see you, here and healthy. And you're a good boy too, of course you are," he adds when Dronebait launches half his weight into Jedao's lap, sensing opportunity. Jedao scritches his ears with his other hand, then glances abruptly up to Tup and Echo, watching the scene unfolding with amusement mixed with other emotions. Jedao's smile turns from sweet and silly to something older, steadier, and he holds Echo's eyes, gives him a slow, respectful nod.
"You're a brave one. I know all you boys are. But he's lucky to have you."
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Tup presses their shoulders tightly together and squeezes his thigh, and Echo breaks the General's gaze to smile gratefully at his younger brother.
"It's, uh, it's probably dinner time, General," he adds, and as he pushes back to his feet DB scampers up from his spot on the General's lap and bounds over to him. "Are you going to join us, Dogma?" he asks, and Dogma's tail does a slow sweep of the roof as he licks the General's chin with a grumbling whine.
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"Come eat with us, Dogma," Tup adds quietly. "It's not the same without you."
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"Thank you, General. Tup does a lot of the work." Echo knows Tup won't give himself the credit he deserves, or speak up for himself at all. "He has a real way with growing things."
As they talk, and follow the General to the door, Dogma starts to pad slowly along behind them, and at the General's glance back he dips his head submissively, but his tail is doing a slow sweep and he keeps walking, to Tup's evident delight. And DB's, who leans happily into him with a friendly grumble.
"Looks like you'll get the whole family for dinner, General," Echo announces, holding the door and ushering them all through, then letting DB take his place at his side as he makes his somewhat awkward way down the stairs.
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"And well arranged," he adds, meaning the garden still. "It has very good flow." A professional geomancer would have tweaks, no doubt, but Jedao is hardly that.
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Dogma slowly catches up to the point where he's walking next to Tup, just behind the General. He likes to stay near his littermate when he can.
"You should see it in the late morning or early afternoon sometime, that's when the hummingbirds and butterflies come by," Echo adds as they reach the hallway. "They love Tup's flowers."
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Echo looks back from the apartment door, smiling fondly at his little brother's excitement, then pushes it open into the controlled chaos of dinner time.
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