Your OC Is Having A Sleepover With The OC Above

"Are you sure you needed to bring in your cats?" Beatrice asked with a huff while hoisting one of them, apparently a large grey Scottish Fold with three legs and a name of Tortellini, "Just asking, because I'm pretty sure that my wife and I don’t have supplies meant to take care of the cats- Unless you brought them yourself, then that’s fine. But we’re going to have to put them in a separate room because of the, well, fact that they shed… Do they shed?” She kept the cat in the air before rudely poking her with the brim of her hat.

Imagine slandering Tortellini like this? Beatrice, you’re disgusting (just kidding).

Regardless of the answer given, she then placed the feline back on the ground and grunted, “... Whatever. I’m not going to keep these cats here for long-” She broke off to gesture at the room they were currently in: her study. Papers were scattered to and fro, perhaps done by the cats, and she was pretty sure cat hair was on a good portion of them too… “I mean my room, by the way,” Beatrice clarified, “but my wife and I do have a guest room. A lot of people come by our house for, uh, a variety of reasons…”

Goodness, was that hesitance kicking her in the ass. There were indeed a variety of motives as to why one would want to stay the night with a couple of potentially shady old women, but… To give the cats a new environment? That was… New. That sounded like shit Rochester would say- Wait one fucking minute. Speaking of Rochester…

“By the way,” Beatrice stated while opening the door for the cats to scamper out of the room, “my wife says that she wants to thank you for, uh, letting her stay over that one time. She likes the cats, by the way. Even if she’s a bit rude at times… That’s what she told me, at least, and she’s terrible at lying. Take that how you wish though.” She then lowered her voice while trying to coax Tortellini out of the room. “Come on now, sweetheart… I need to work and finish up this article… Then I’ll be out of here in an instant… Mmmm?” she cooed in a bullshitted attempt to not sound like she was dying inside.

Because truth be told, she was indeed dying inside. Beatrice was clearly looking for an excuse to just keep herself away from the cats until Rochester came home and made them more tolerable, but… That didn’t need to be said. Obviously.

In her normal voice, the journalist then huffed to the teenager with a vague motion of her hand, “Just try not to let them eat Spot, and you’ll be fine. I don’t think Rochester would be very happy if she found out some girl’s cats ate her beloved gastropod.” Not very happy? Understatement of the century. Beatrice knew that Rochester would be devastated - absolutely irate, even - but she kept that information unsaid… On purpose.

Beatrice gets another not-son!! let's fucking go!! time for a follow-up.

Spoiled for self-harm because Black did it again.

And thus, the community lockdown began. His reason for being present? It was required to attend something for the community at least once in the school year. Volunteer work was not only excellent to have on a resume, but kept him on the baseball team and in good standing with his grades. Though it was a little weird, what with having to spend the night with several teammates and a group of random people, he'd make the best of it. 

Especially since Black was present. 

Now he knew next to nothing about the man other than he had a bit of a temper to him. At least one that struck out occasionally, anyway. But he enjoyed him, in some weird, twisted bully to nerd kind of way. It was amusing to watch his little face puff out and his eyebrows get all worked up when he felt threatened. 

And yet, for majority of the night Sean avoided him. Through the the volunteer's planned activities, such as stuffing stockings full of toys for children, putting cookies in tins for the nursing homes, and making firemen delicate portions of fudge- he kept his distance. It was only when the liveliness died down and everyone started to lay out their sleeping gear did he finally go out of his way for him. 

Standing above Black setting out his things, he offers a lift of his lips. There's a blanket around his shoulders, not draped like a cape, but wound up as if he was a mover and they were a heavy object. He's already changed into his pajamas, starry sweatpants and a muscle shirt sporting one sag to a shoulder strap. Intentional? Maybe so.  

After a brief moment of silence, he leans forward and drops the blanket between where he stands and where Black is. "Still think I'm too hot to talk to me?" Would that rile him up? He could only hope so. 

With a clang, the metal pan containing the lemon cake hit the countertop, which briefly sent Dolores into a state of stunned shock while she made sure that nothing had somehow flown out of the container. It might just be a few crumbs, you know, she attempted to reassure herself before giving the metal another tap with her hand. Sure. Just a few crumbs... It wasn't like ants or midges were particularly common this high up, where the climate was chilly and the air was thin... She might as well be dreaming if a single insect ended up in her household.

But you know what wasn't a dream? The fact that she had a guest in her humble abode, at this very moment. (Not that it was a particularly rare event either these days, but... You know.)

Dolores had her usual smile as she hummed to the baseball player currently lodging for the night, "I don't think sports events really happen around here for the most part, if I want to be honest with you. It's too cold, even for the typical winter fare like hockey and, uh, ice skating! Are you sure that you're coming up here for a baseball game, or-" She broke off with a shaky laugh, though that was more directed at herself than anything else. How dare she question the values of her guest!? Besides, it wasn't like she was well-versed in baseball, so she really couldn't say much on the matter...

"- Never mind," the elderly woman thus quickly interjected once her laughter had petered out enough for herself to seem mostly collected, "Never mind." And that was it for now, as Dolores turned her attention back to the utensils she had yet to clean out. Hoo boy, was that going to be a lot... For a moment, she glanced over at the youth before just... Scolding herself, silently. You're not going to make him do the work for you now, are you? And she wasn't! He was a guest, after all. If he asked her to help hide a body, she most likely would without question!

Haha, just kidding. Unless...

Humming quietly under her breath for a few seconds, Dolores started to put some of the bowls and pans into a sink so that she could wash them, before interrupting the melody to ask the guest, "Oh, and by the way... Sir, do you want some food to take along with you before the game starts? I know our friend might be coming, so I might have to serve double, but... Just in case, mm?" Her careful chuckle was drowned out by the water coming from the faucet when she turned it on to pre-rinse the dishes. Then, just as quickly as she started it, the sink was turned off. "... Are you more of a savory food person, or a sweet food person?" Another pause.

"I just want to make sure now," she admitted a bit sheepishly, before glancing over at the cake on the counter. "Or maybe you just want to eat dinner here? It's cold out right now; I really don't recommend going out to get some food. Maybe you can tomorrow, since I heard that the snowfall will be more lenient. Just..." She paused once more to offer the other party a sheepish smile. "... Just not today, I suppose. I have some leftover chicken noodle and the lemon cake if you want to eat anything... Is that fine, sir?"

once more, Google Docs kicks me in the ass by making these follow-ups tiny when I copy-and-paste them into Toyhouse. neat.

that asides, time for a follow-up!! the writing style in your response is really nice, and Dolores is always down for some more tough buddies under her sleeve. u_u

With a grunt, M. Pourife nudged aside some of the stray books and beer cans laying about the room before turning to the youth with a grin and proclaiming, "So! This is where you will stay for the night, mm? Or the next few nights, if you feel comfortable enough! I am offering this lodging to you, after all." Which kind of ignored the fact that he had sort of allowed it to fall into substandard condition ever since taxes started to increase, but... Hey. Maybe the other party didn't mind a more informal lodging? Besides, the overall place did still look rather comfortable, everything considered...

"So, yes, yes," hummed the middle-aged man while parading about the household, "Make yourself comfortable. You did, uh, say that there was a beast around here to be hunted, right?" And... Then, upon asking that question, M. Pourife felt his blood run cold. He winced for a moment, but he was soon back to his normal self as he resumed strutting around like a proud host once more. Wow! It was almost as if nothing happened!

"I also heard that your partner should be in tow with you soon, but it might be, uh... A few hours or so? Unless he is back at that farm of his, or so that I heard..." The older man paused again to rub his chin, then walked off into the kitchen to open up a refrigerator and pull out - you guessed it - a whole pack of beer. In this case, there was definitely more from where that came from, as M. Pourife took out a can and nudged it off to the side for himself.

Lifting up the pack of remaining cans, the scientist then hummed, "But that asides, you can treat yourself while you wait! Whether it be for that friend of yours, or maybe... Uhhh..." He paused again. Now that he thought about it, the idea of a beast stomping its way past his house, especially in the middle of the night, was pretty fucking terrifying! The middle-aged man shot the other party a nervous glance, then bared a sheepish smile. Oh, if he turns out to be the reason why my roof may get stepped on... He sucked in a breath, then lowered the pack back onto the counter.

"... For the beast to come about? I heard that it is huge, but... It could be interesting for me to take samples from it after it is tranquilized or vanquished..." Another pause. "For, uh, study - you know. I am a biologist, after all."

That was one way to make this a bit less awkward, now that M. Pourife thought about it; he could visualize himself studying the beasts that the bounty hunter took down, and that... That would be an alliance he could see coming into fruition. He just needed to worm himself into a friendly position first...

So, with a shake of his head, M. Pourife then suggested with a wave of his hand, "That asides, do you have any interests outside of that gig of yours? Of course, I understand gaining fame and passion out of what you do for a living, but are there any hobbies that you have? Such as, ah, well..." He paused to twirl his hand around. "... Movies? Or books? I do not have a lot of the former, but I do have a decent amount of the latter! Especially on biology! You may find them useful if you want to learn more about the fauna in here, in fact!" Poor, poor M. Pourife - even if a genuine sparkle formed in his eyes in the process of rambling about biology. He just couldn't escape his profession ,and it showed... Miserably.

I'd die for Frederica tbh.... he deserves better than M. Pourife low-key. follow-up time- 🤧

...To be quite honest, Frederica was left a bit stunned. He would have never thought that the older man, who appeared to be quite formal, would have a home quite unlike his outwardly appearance and way of speech. That’s not to say that he’d been judging him or even disliked it--it’s just that if he were to say that he wasn’t caught off guard, it’d be a boldfaced lie. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Pourife.”

Frederica coughed lightly, moving aside a few emptied cans with the tips of his feet before flopping down onto the bed to sit. He hummed lightly, and took a stray book into his hands, curiously looking through the contents. Upon opening the book, a number of notes scattered all across the floor.

“...My apologies, I should have asked before touching your belongings.”

As he kneeled to gather the notes up, he noticed that a number of them seemed to go in great detail of peculiar traits and abilities. Though he, himself, could not understand what much of it meant, it was apparent that the author of the notes was quite passionate about the subject, and knew about it in great length. Upon looking at the cover of the journal once more, he found “M. Pourife” scrawled very quietly at the corner. Frederica’s hands paused at the realization, and after a moment, his gaze shifted upwards at the kindly older man. For a second, a hazy silhouette of a familiar and dear figure superimposed over the man before him. Suddenly, a rather large and genuine smile broke out on his usually sullen face. 

“I say, Sir Pourife, your studies are quite detailed and interesting. It reminds me a lot of my gr--A person I know.”

After gathering the last of the pages, he neatly tidied up the journal and carefully handed it back to its owner.

“Though I do not understand much of it, there is so much thought put into it that I feel that I could experience your observations as if I were there myself.”

Tapping the side of his own face, Frederica thought for a moment.

“I’m not much of an entertaining guest I’m afraid, but, if you do not mind it, I’d love to hear more about your studies from your own retelling.” 

Frederica pauses briefly, before reaching at his neck and pulling out a particularly eye catching crimson gemstone wrapped in a macramé rope pouch that hung from his neck, hidden beneath his shirt.

“In exchange, I’ll tell you about the essence of magic that is rooted deeply within the crystallization of nature itself.”

^{((Haha, their interaction is so good! M. Pourife is such a fun character))}

((A bit of a prompt for NP to give a sort of idea of how his home is like/how Frederica is like? I'll try to do a follow up when I can!))

“Well.” 

Frederica’s steps seemed to have finally paused, after a half an hour of somewhat impatient pacing. It was a mystery to him that such a torrential rain would come at such a moment’s notice given that there had been little signs of such a thing up until a couple of hours ago. Even then, it didn’t seem like it’d be so heavy.

“It seems that I have no choice but to let you stay the night.” With a sigh, Frederica lightly swipes at a lounging chair before taking a seat, a leg crossed over the other.

“...You can take a seat over there, if you’d like.”

He gestured towards a refined looking sofa across from him, and subtly nodded towards a nearby servant, who swiftly patted down the sofa as well. To be honest, it was quite awkward. He seldom ever stayed in his grandfather’s, or rather, his estate, after he had it rebuilt, much less ever bring a guest over to stay. However, the circumstances seemed quite dire, and Frederica was not completely coldhearted nor was he mannerless. He had no choice but to bring the other party in, as his "home" was the most convenient at the time, it seemed. However, despite how elegant the manor was, it was almost lifeless, as if it were more an attraction for guests rather than a cherished home. There were no mementos cherishing the halls nor signs of use and wear on the furniture throughout. Only a single painted portrait of what appeared to be a much younger Frederica, and an unidentifiable older gentlemanly wolf, smiling kindly towards the viewer.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Bianca hissed, letting out a sniffle while she gazed outdoors. She uncomfortably shifted in her seat, brushing her hair off her shoulders while her lips pursed into a pout. While she tapped her heel against the floor, Bianca tilted her head upwards.

"Thank you for your hospitality, sir. I really appreciate it," Bianca stated to the younger party, tapping her fingers together. She brandished a grin at Frederica, cocking her head as she did so. After she blinked rapidly, she turned to glance behind her to watch the rain.

"Do you have a phone I could use? I need to call my husband and let him know I'm here," she stated, leaning back in her seat. She gazed around the luxurious, albeit barren room.

"I'm kind of worried about leaving him alone with our daughters; he's not...quite a fan of my eldest. Actually, you know what? It's okay, he'll manage. It's only for the night. Can I still use your phone, though? At least so that I could touch base with him?"

"Thanks for staying the night Bianca! This house has really been so dreadfully lonely since my son ran off on his little quest for-" Dani stopped for a second. "God knows what he's doing really." She quickly diverted, not wanting to talk about it too much tonight- it was supposed to be a fun night, not a commiserate about your personal grievances kinda night after all! "But I am excited about what it's like on the other side of things being a model instead of a photographer! I've always admired your photography work and while I have a few polaroids from way back in the day of myself, most of them are of my ex and his little minio- friends."

The blonde poured 2 glasses of wine for her and her friend. "No rush on the photoshoot though, we have the whole night ahead of us!" She gave a coy smile to Bianca.

This kind of sucked. For both of them, actually. Maribelle didn't have a house, really, but instead two singular rooms -- cold bedchambers and a kitchen-bathroom hybrid that was about as sanitary as it sounded. Nevertheless, Dani was on a visit, and Maribelle not-so-graciously allowed her to stay in this... gods-forsaken room in this gods-forsaken fortress. Her mentor certainly wouldn't like her having another woman over, but, you know, who cares.

"I hope you brought a blanket or pillows, something like that." Maribelle said, raising her chin to the splintering slat bed in the corner of the room. "I haven't been able to clean my bedding. Honestly, I don't see the point. I think it's better to lay in shit like that during the cold season than freeze to death." That's a bit grim, but at least Dani had a choice between bad breakouts and back pain when she woke up in the morning. Assuming she went to sleep at all. The girl didn't look like she was about to, anyway, as she retrieved her crossbow from underneath the bed.

"I have work tonight." she told the woman, "I'm going to have to run something to the shack at the end of the canyon, and when I'm done, I'm going to..." She trailed off, taking a step back. Setting the crossbow on her desk, she looked over the table for a few moments, brushing past her books and display case of bugs. "Um... No, here it is." Plucking an envelope from the desk, she sent a glance back at Dani.

"If you want to make yourself useful, though, you can water my plants." She nodded towards the potted plants on the dresser. "I don't really care if you do, though. Just don't give the succulents too much. I also have..." And then, a gesture towards her bed. "Wine and cigarettes."

Motherfucker how old are you.

"Get me my scabbard, too. It's under there. I need it before I go out. It's not really going to take me long, but this was sudden, anyway. I'll be back in... two hours, I think. I think it'll be twenty when I'm back." she remarked, "Besides, I don't think I'll sleep, anyway. I don't really need sleep. Sorry in advance if you're actually fucking asleep when I get back. I'm gonna do what I want."

Like cook rice, and study her bugs, and maybe do fifty-five sit-ups.

maybe i will follow-up ?

.. Now, luckily for Maribelle; Spitwad had a shitty house too! More so of a 'studio,' each bedroom was about the size of a walk in closet, and the walls were absolutely paper thin. She could of chosen.. literally anywhere else to stay but she chose to sleep over at a shitty metal bands studio. This will be her last mistake.

"Noooow, you're gonna be sleepin' in my room tonight! I got like, a bunch of this good candy from the one bill store -- that is uh, if the fucking ants haven't gotten to it yet. Ah, who cares anyway, huh? I heard you like bugs! You're like my bandmate, which is fucking weird, bugs are weird. Why do people like bugs. God." Spitwad continued to mumble to himself as he waddled over to his bed, pulling out a thin, shitty blowup mattress out from underneath it. The thing wasn't even inflated, and was he gonna bother to try and inflate it? No. Suffer.

"You're gonna have to sleep on this tonight. I'll get the bed 'cause it's mine, and I'm like, 90% sure it has bedbugs in it anyway." Spit quickly shook his head and gestured towards the corner of the room,
".. Okay. You don't look like you watch too much TV, but if you do, I got some VHS tapes in the drawer over there if you're into reruns of Columbo." He shrugged and clicked his tongue, ".. Or, I guess if you don't wanna do anything that's good too." Suppressing his ADHD is a mighty fine idea, Maribelle, just saying!

Spit abruptly got up mid 'conversation' and skittled out towards the hallway; where the home phone was at, of course. "What kind of pizza do you like? I can only get kids sizes because.. well, we're tight on money now. You care for pineapple?" He punched in the numbers on the phone; his tone of voice quickly changed from somewhat excited to absolute disappointment in the snap of a finger, quietly murmuring a last 'okay' before putting the phone back down on the receiver.

"Well, pizzas are gonna take awhile. You wanna look at Machete's centipedes or whatever? He's got a bunch, we can sprinkle some onto the pizza if you're into that. You really look like you are." He paused before whipping his head back to face her again,

"For blankets, use a bath towel or something." Ahh, doesn't this 'sleepover' remind you of your childhood?

Walker... Was going to fucking die inside when she realized whom she had to keep inside for the night!

Not only was her guest a slob, but he was a slob with a dog... Which was also a slob and got slob everywhere. Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh. That was essentially a giant flaming pile of burdens, one stacked on top of another, and the middle-aged woman was going to have to deal with that shit all on her own. All because her husband was out for some political negotiation that even she didn't know much about. She supposed that it was the sake of political confidentiality, which she could understand; the problem was just that the older woman just kept fantasizing about the possibility that the conference her husband was in revolved around the menace she was currently playing as hostess for. Yea... Nice try, but that's not exactly true...

Even if she wanted it to be, as the woman lowered her hand after directing a servant to clean up the mess the Rottweiler was making in the house, before turning to the youth and huffing, "Let me make this clear: the only reason I even tolerate you being in my home is the fact that you are, well, a musician." Though the fancy-schmancy aristocrat probably believed that metal was stretching her definition of "music" by a lot, but it's fiiiiiiiiiiine. Maybe she could afford to be a bit relaxing, especially because she didn't exactly know what else to do with her resources now that her husband was gone for the night.

"Just, please, for everyone's sake," she nonetheless instructed with an almost pleading tone in her inflection, "Do not shed blood all over the place, and do not make your dog cause a mess either."

Which just might tempt him into doing just that, but you know...

With a shake of her head, Walker stepped off to the side before snorting with a roll of her eyes, "If I have to be honest with you, though, I do believe that you made a wise choice when it comes to being accommodated. I just hope that you follow those rules I set up for you, lest you run into trouble..." What that "trouble" was, Walker didn't specify. She instead trotted off to the edge of the doorway, with her toes just barely pointing into the hallway. Great, so she was going to ditch his ass now? How responsible.

"If you need anything," the older woman grunted to him with narrowed eyes, "you can always call for a servant. They can serve you spicy foods, some of those bourgeois knickknacks..." She paused, then turned her gaze over her shoulder to properly meet his gaze once more. "... Just, as said before, do not cause a mess. Do not let your dog cause a mess either. I will know if that is the case." Whatever the fuck that meant? However, it was probably for the best to heed to what she said; the glint that appeared in her eyes for a moment seemed almost... Menacing... Uncharacteristically menacing, in fact. Oh shit.

I'll do a follow-up for NP if I have the time!!

He sets two antique, pink and flowery teacups down, one in front of her and the other across the coffee table. His office is quiet despite being in the midsts of Boston, and its interior lighting is dim, perfect for a sleepover. Though he sports no nightwear, nor anything more but leggings and a tight t shirt, he has purposefully set the scenery to be more comfortable, as if he were ready for bed in the moment. 

"So you have a son, right?" He takes a seat across from her, swinging one arm over the top of his sofa. "Bummer. I'd be pissed if I had a son. Or any child at all, actually. They're expensive and ungrateful, always asking for more and not bringing anything to the table, aren't they? See, I had parents, I'd be the same to them, but being that parent? Must be hard. Especially when you've got an image to manage." One of his feet lift, placing it's middle on the edge of the table. Luckily he wears socks. 

"What's more important to you? Y'know, since you're stuck here all night due to our friendly blizzard. Your family or money?"