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who: Spike and whomever
what: Looking for new digs and scavenging for stuff.
when: Soon after his arrival (2nd week of May)
where: The Inhabited Area and likely the Abandoned City.
warnings: Spike being a jerk? Possible language. Edit: Biting, drinking, the vomiting blood in thread w/Cain.

Flatmates. The only ones he'd ever been able to stand had been the ones he was shacking up with, and for the better part of a century, that had been Dru. Oh, they'd been off and on again a few times, but this... well. This was a bit more permanent. And now he was stuck in a room with a bunch of other living bodies. Ones he couldn't take a nip from. It was likely better than Xander's basement, but only just.

And a job. Seriously? They'd given him a bloody job and expected him to just... do it? Clearly they had no idea who they were dealing with. But, as he hadn't entirely sorted out an alternative yet, he wasn't ready to piss away what was being offered. Not until he'd set something better up for himself. Surely this place had to have a graveyard. A set of crypts. A nice little mausoleum tucked away he could take as his own, yeah?

For the next week, each time the sun dipped down below the horizon, Spike could be found leaving the shared accommodations to go scour the city for just that. Looking for where the city might have its graveyard, and deciding to snoop past the fence that encircled the population and led out past where he'd been told the wild things may roam. Well, that was all fine and dandy, wasn't it? He was a bit wild himself. Could be he'd come across something he could vent a little of his frustrations on -- aside from the small dark shape that smelled like fox that had been shadowing him partway through the week. The area was rife with them, the city boasting people walking around with them like pets.

Spike didn't do pets. He ate pets. Though, he had a feeling that kitten poker would be frowned on here. Pity. He wasn't too bad at it, and they weren't bad for a late morning snack.

Perhaps someone might come across him with a shopping cart full of odds and ends he'd found and salvaged. Or maybe they'd see him slipping into the cemetery, when he finally found one. Or he could be heard talking to the shadows or hissing at one and telling it to stop following him. Who knows? Spike's a bit of an odd duck, but until he figures out or is told a way to be able to not burst into flame in the sun, he'll only be seen during the night-time hours.

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He nodded, shifting to set the portable charger into the seat of the cart before rooting around in the rest of the junk that had been collected. He was looking for himself if he noticed anything else that might have been defunct but picked up anyway. "Right, okay, where's that TV?" he asked, almost conversationally since that was what he was looking for.

He came over and lifted up a blanket he'd also pilfered. "This thing right here. I think. Looks... telly-ish, don't it?" It had to him, after all. But he also wasn't used to flat screens or plasma. Think a decade or two before that, Cain.

Cain lifted it out and tilted his head to regard it. "Been a while since I've seen one of these," he commented about the CRT flat screen. Kind of a misnomer compared to the tech people had today but he could see why it had been the new Thing to get at the time.

Of course, he had definitely nabbed one while they were hot. Trends being short or long were all the same to him, relatively speaking. Turning it over, he shifted to place it back in the cart and nodded. "Yeah, easy enough. I could take a whack at it, see why it might not be giving any audio."

"Yeah? Great." Then he had to look down at the pile of possible junk he had before looking back up at Cain. "You, ah, want to tinker with it at mine, or you got all that stuff at yours? 'Cause as far as tools go, I haven't exactly acquired myself a collection yet. Working on it, though." It was always good to have bits of things lying about. Never knew when it would come in handy.

"I've got some stuff at mine," he said with a shrug. "Something like this, I'd need to pop it open and see what the issue is first before I can say anything more."

It might need some new guts, or Cain might be able to fix the wiring on the spot. Hard to say when it was an issue like that and he didn't have that much to work with on his own just yet. He'd get there soon enough but for now he would need to wing it.

"My place is pretty... shared, though, so how about we head to yours, I take a look, and we'll see what I might need first," he suggested.

"That works." He pushed everything back on the cart, then headed to the front of it to grab it and start walking again. A momentary pause as he turned back to Cain. "You're not going to scream or get all weird if that place is in a cemetery, are you? Because otherwise... not worth the headache."

Not slowing his stride, Cain furrowed his brow at the question. It wasn't really odd considering the numbers along the man's neck, but on the other hand, there was no way to really communicate that he had expected something along those lines in the first place... Huh. Awkward.

"No," he said slowly. "Although I would ask why."

"Why what? Why would you scream or why a cemetery? Gonna have to be a bit more specific than that, mate." Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of smokes with one hand, the other around the cart as he started to move.

"Why the cemetery," Cain clarified. The smokes were interesting, but thinking about it further... well, it was probably a lot easier to fall into addiction when you didn't have a soul and your body was apparently some sort of impervious to things.

He should hope, anyway. It would be weird if someone undead could get lung cancer.

Either way, he wasn't bothered by the smoke. It wasn't like he could get sick, and it really wasn't his business. Like, it was the opposite of something he cared about on a personal level.

"Better than the sardine can I was 'assigned'. Don't know what sort of bloke they think I am, but sleeping packed in a room with a bunch of wankers I don't know isn't my idea of a good time." Not to mention it just wasn't fair. Shoved in a room full of living, breathing humans. Tasty smelling humans. Humans he wanted to sink his teeth into and had suffered a few headaches because of those intense desires. And let's not bring trying to drink blood into the picture while sharing accommodations. Even synthetic or medically offered had a lot of 'ew' looks, and he could do without that.

Another shrug as the wheels started moving while Spike lit his smoke, puffing away. "Besides, sometimes stereotypes are fun to live up to. Vampire. Crypt. Like a gothic peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"Vampire huh," he said. It was a thoughtful tone but not genuinely so. He'd started to figure that out already and he had a pretty good idea who this guy was. Self-identified vampire who spoke with a British affect. Whatever magic was working here to translate for those who didn't speak English, it didn't leave people with accents from what he could tell. Maybe he was barking up the wrong tree, but he doubted it.

Going for cheeky this time, Cain asked, "Username bigbad?" No matter how their conversation had ended, it wouldn't do to not poke some fun. Whatever the case was then, now he was about to help out. That would balance it, right? "Is that actually a comfortable thing or just what you do because that's how it's done?"

Spike took a long drag, looking over his shoulder at the guy who seemed to know who he was, but who Spike hadn't picked out yet. "That'd be me. So which one are you? The one I pissed off, or the other one I pissed off?" Slightly concerned that he'd lost his chance to trade and get help fixing things up, he assumed the mantle of 'not caring', blowing out a long stream of white that faded off as it mixed with the night. "Practical thing. What stories have you heard about vampires back wherever you're from, eh?"

"I'm the one that asked a million and one questions," Cain clarified. He had never considered himself to get mad at the guy on the network, just remained pleasantly skeptical throughout. So what if the undead were a blight on the natural order? It wasn't a personal thing that Cain thought so, and he didn't really intend for it to change how he deal with a person to their face.

Eventually they'd get what they really deserved, and that was opposite of Cain's job. It was a job for the dead, actually.

He saw the change in demeanor and noted it without reacting. At least the guy had a reason to be contrite even if it was out of self-interest. Cain wasn't interested in blowing this off, thankfully, since it actually could turn out pretty good for him in the end to go along with it. "Still think I'm not human?"

He paused, then, and eventually shrugged. "The popular stuff? Can't be in sunlight, drinks blood to live, need to be invited in, weak to sunlight, holy water and stakes through the heart. Et cetera, et cetera."

"Come here and let me have a pop at you and we'll see one way or the other, won't we?" Well, that clarified that. There'd only been one exceptionally curious person, so that'd be... "What was it. Just Kidding? Joker? J something. Can't remember." Said in a way that implied he didn't remember because it wasn't important. He had so many important things to do, Cain. Like... binning.

He listened, though, nodding along with it. "Pretty much what it's like. I can eat things other than blood, but a starving vampire is a nasty, horrible sight. Like a living skeleton. And the longer you leave it, the more feral they get. Nasty buggers. But the invitation thing... that'd do it. With wills and deeds and whatnot, it just became easier to find somewhere to shack up that wasn't an owned residence. Crypts and mausoleums may be owned, but their 'residents' are dead. Lets us in."

Cain grinned for him and shrugged. He was definitely human, he knew that much, and if this guy had been telling the truth then there was very little that would really harm him. Hell, even if the vampire had been lying (very possible), Cain didn't fear much. "If you want," he said. Confident that he'd be fine no matter what. "Name's Jacob Kane."

"Good thing you've got the synthetic crap to keep you fed," he said. No one needed a feral supernatural abomination roaming around, and he added a point to the administration of the Quarantine for keeping that in mind. They'd probably learned the hard way some time in the past. "Guess that makes sense. How does that actually stop you, though? Something acting as a conscience for you so you can't go in?"

Human only went so far, Cain. Immortal humans weren't really 'human' by definition anymore, were they? Spike gave him an offhand look, tempted despite himself. "Right. Well, I could fork out more for the real thing, but until I figure out what's what and if it's worth it, may as well save what I can, eh?"

He kept pulling his cart, smoke lodged between two fingers as he drew from it occasionally, giving Cain a shrug in answer. "Magic? Who knows. But, there's a barrier there that's not really anything to do with consciences we can't get past without an invite. Keeps all the little humans all safe in their beddy-by for the most part."

It was really a matter of curiosity that led Cain to give the offer. Partly on if the vampire would do it, and partly if Cain would count or not. It really depended on the definition, but he had never considered himself something aside from human. It was all there was back home. Humans, both living and dead, and perhaps Reapers, but those creepy things were a category unto themselves. "Waiting for the right moment, yeah," Cain agreed with a shrug. "Your name is...?"

"I'd say it's a pretty fair exchange considering most stories also say vampires are inhumanly strong and could otherwise probably just decimate the population," he said wryly. It would be a good trick if he ever needed it. "Do they need to be refreshed or is it like a lifetime pass thing?"

"Spike." Maybe later, Cain. Maybe when he wasn't expecting it. Or maybe after he'd fixed his doohickey. He didn't want to pop off someone that might actually be useful to him in this strange little pocket of a new world he'd found himself in.

"We're not all powerful. We're just another type of predator. Humans hate being reminded they're not on the top of the food chain." A drag and a laugh. "And it's not even vamps that beat them out, you know. It's a virus. Flesh eating thingy. Funny, eh?" Made him laugh sometimes. Here humans were, afraid of everything that could best it, and it was a bloody germ that ruled the world. "Lifetime." For the most part. Sure, witches could cancel an invitation, but most people didn't have a witch lying around to do so. "Unless the house passes on to a new owner, I suppose."

"Spike," he repeated. Okay fine. Whatever. Sure, he could have that name. Just like Cain could be Cain instead of Romulus or Jacob Kane instead of Benjamin Jacobs or plenty of other names he'd taken on over the years. So what if the vampire had what seemed like a stupid name? Maybe he just liked it. "Surprisingly nice to meet you in person."

There was what he was looking for. Just in case of a worst case scenario. Lifetime meant a lot of different things for Cain than it did for most others, so he was already figuring out loopholes and exceptions even on the small chance that he let Spike into his own home (once he got one). Not paranoia in its usual sense but a lightning contingency from wariness, one he didn't plan to use but needed to work through anyway.

"What do you mean, a virus? Did something hit your reality?"

He heard that doubt in his name, but he was used to it by then. If he could handle his grandsire mocking him over it when he'd first decided to take it, he could handle some nobody doing the same. In answer to the second bit, another shrug. "If you say so, mate."

But it took him a second to understand what the man was asking, especially given some of the conversations he'd had since arriving here. "What? Oh, no. It's some skin-eating bacteria. Not quite leprosy, but close. If you're going by what's on the top of the food chain, it's not people."

Hey, Cain wasn't above being honest even to someone he didn't get along with initially. He was a very live and let live type of person until he knew them, understood whether they'd continue being unbearable or if it was just a consequence of the moment or approach. He was super magnanimous like that.

While they walked, he kept his eyes open at the neighborhood he was in. It still hadn't totally sunken in yet, the city fresh and new, and he'd need to know which way to turn when he went home after this. "What is on the top, then?"

Spike was heading over towards the fence, leading them to that hole he'd pulled open earlier and had hidden a bit with an old sign and a bit of a wood slat. Cain might start to figure out what was up when Spike eventually stopped by it and moved the bits to the side. "I just told you. Listen a little better. A germ, mate. Not to mention all sorts of beasties that eat humans but that they've convinced themselves don't exist. It's fine if a lion eats a zebra, but the eradication of a species generally occurs when they dare nibble on a human."

"No, you said the virus beat humans out, not that there wasn't anything above the virus," Cain pointed out. He watched the movement curiously and kept his pace behind Spike when he realized they were actually there. Watching only for a moment, he moved up next to him and began helping.

"There's an argument in there about awareness and how it affects the morality of killing things, which doesn't apply to animals but does apply to humans," he said with a shrug. "Guess things get murky when other species with awareness show up too, though."

"And yet humans have no problem with killing a cow and a pig for a lovely bacon cheeseburger. They've decided in their infinite opposable thumb-having selves that their will is the only one that matters. They've judged every other creature as lesser and therefore expendable. And they say we're the monsters. I just eat them to stay alive, mate." He pushed the hole in the fence open a bit wider to start pulling the cart through. "Well, that and because I enjoy killing them. I am evil, after all."

A little tugging, a little scraping, but Spike got the cart through the hole in the fence, leaving him out of the city proper and into the abandoned part of this new little world. The cemetery was still a little ways off, but it was late, the sun wasn't coming up for hours, and he had plenty of time.

"Takes all types," Cain said. Even the admission of being evil didn't deter him. He'd seen a lot of evil people in his time, and a lot of truly good people. Most were somewhere in between and he tended to like those the best even if his ability to relate to them wasn't as good as he pretended it was. Acting was a pretty necessary skill for an immortal.

"That's what I'm saying, too," he added, following Spike through the hole and turned around to tug at least one of the pieces back in front as if to make it more difficult to notice right away. "Cows and pigs aren't good or evil, there is a superiority there." Pausing, he gestured vaguely. "I'll allow that it might not be the same in every reality but I doubt it is in ours from the way you also talk about it."

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