Macaroni was in the middle of throwing a tantrum. She threw herself around, flailed her limbs around, and spat out hisses. For why, though? No one knows.

Macaroni continued to throw herself around on the floor, eventually stopping so she could stop. As if literally nothing just happened, Macaroni padded up to Walker and blinked slowly. She tilted her head up to the glass of milk that was on the table, which prompted her to mew:

"Brr-eep? Brrp-rrp-rrp? Eep?"

Macaroni continued to stare upwards at the table until she felt something nudge at her side. Macaroni abruptly darted her head over to Walker's foot, who just nudged the kitten away. Macaroni then shifted her gaze to the blonde teenager seated next to her—only to find that she was sipping on the milk! Macaroni's milk! It absolutely wasn't hers to start with, but the bobtail wanted it for herself! This prompted Macaroni to throw yet another tantrum, this time with louder spitting. Only this time, she immediately threw herself at Walker's feet and let out an ungodly screech. Macaroni gets to use someone else as her punching bag...as a treat.

However, unfortunately, she's not done yet. After Macaroni was done throwing her tantrum, she hopped on Walker's lap, then onto the table. Before Zinnia could reprimand her, Macaroni shoved her paw in the glass of milk. The cream-pelted Bobtail then flicked her milky paw, flinging the beverage everywhere before she passed away, leaving a tiny trail behind as well. Karmic kitty justice has been served.

"Shit," muttered Brown when she felt something batting at her leg, just as she got to the "good" part of this book! Well... Not that the book was could be considered a literary masterpiece in the first place. She, in fact, was reading a dime-store romance novel that her lover was so damn fascinated with, if only because it had been a morbid curiosity that had been piquing her interest for a while now; it wasn't like the aristocrat had seen him with such books very often, and yet... Her thumb gave the cover a flick while she bit down a girlish giggle.

Maybe those books had a point after all? she pondered to herself before placing the book, hyper-realistic depiction of a rose on its cover and all, off to the side before snapping her gaze over to the source of that slapping: a cream bobtail whom the woman immediately recognized as Macaroni. Brown's lip immediately curled back, though it was more from... Disappointment than anything else. Was she surprised that the kitten was trying to beat the shit out of her shin? No. Was she angry? Surprisingly enough... Also no.

"For fuck's sake, do not fucking do that!" the older woman hissed while quickly taking back her shin, then carefully rubbing it to see if the cat's claws had actually pierced the skin. The sight of blood, obviously, didn't faze her, but there was that risk of cat scratch fever... Brown studied the tips of Macaroni's claws before attempting to study her own wounds, spitting curses like a pissed cat in the meanwhile. Ah! So maybe they could get along in that department!

Unfortunately, Brown couldn't exactly see that, as she sputtered, "Fuck," under her breath once she realized that the very tip of her index finger was just faintly stained with blood. At least it was objectively minor in terms of hemorrhage, but cat scratch fever was no joke. She shot Macaroni another glare before hissing, "I am, for a fact, going to tell your fucking owner about this, you little shit. Do you hear me? For fuck's sake..." Then she continued to hiss a flurry of curses to herself while attempting to apply pressure to the scratches so that they could clot more easily.

This, in other words, was going to be a loooooong visit to her not-daughter's house. And that wasn't a good thing! Usually, Brown came here to unwind a bit after a long day, and... This just wasn't it, chief.

"Fuck..." the miffed middle-aged woman muttered again before shaking her head and shooting a glance at the book she was reading. A bookmark indicated the page she had stopped at before she was forced to shift her priorities elsewhere, but it wouldn't reeeeeeaaaaaaally matter if she ended up ditching her efforts in the first place? They probably would've been futile as fuck; apparently, even having a lover couldn't prevent her from wincing at the amount of stupid romantic clichés in that dime-store novel. She was... Definitely going to need to bother him about how he tolerated that shit in the first place. Eventually.

For now, she seized the bookmark from the novel and pointed it at the kitten, "You did this, huh! Ooh, I will tell your owner, and then you will get in biiiiig trouble for that! Is that what you want, you rascal? Is that what you want!?" Overkill much? It wasn't like Brown actually intended to do anything to the kitten, even if she held the bookmark out like an impromptu yardstick- Wait. Brown waved the bookmark slightly, then winced as it just wiggled for a few seconds before returning to its initial position. Her bookmark was the shitty, flaccid type of plastic. Tragic. "Fuck this shit," she eventually spat under her breath before wiggling it once more, then just unceremoniously tossing it across the room, "I can worry about this some other time." The problem was, though... What was she going to worry about right now?

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

Fun fact: Vermilion sucks. Spoiled because the threats he made are pretty graphic though he didn't actually do anything, as well as length.

Don't worry, I don't mind at all, personally! Anyway, more of Vermilion being a piece of shit, as a treat. Spoiled for a mention of implied domestic abuse.

oh god I forgot that I've been sandwiching this thread a good bit lately, so. @ the person I responded to + the thread mod, please lmk through PM if this makes you uncomfortable, and I'll be more than happy to delete my claim/post erfvrertberhtrbgf- :"DDD

Rochester, as expected, was preparing some fruit for herself and her slug when she heard a rap-tap-tap on her door. It was difficult to stifle the reflexive urge to start shouting curses at the other, or at least scold them and tell them that the door was unlocked, but... Somehow, she managed to do it! Her attention then shifted back over to the bananas she was peeling and cutting up before peering over at Spot-

"Fucking damn it," she hissed under her breath before gesturing vaguely with her hand and grunting loudly, "Just letting you know that the door is unlocked! You can come inside if you want!" With a shake of her head, the elder then peered over at the banana slices splayed out on the platter. How many bananas in that bunch did I even slice up? She peered over at the bunch that she bought, with three bananas still left; she remembered seeing five bananas as part of that set when she first bought it from the store, so... Two bananas. Rochester cut up two bananas, and now there was two people in the house as the guest (hopefully) made his way inside.

"If you need anything," she drawled as per usual, "then let me know, okay? My wife is out working as per usual, so it's just me and Spot..." Wait a second. Shaking her head slightly, Rochester couldn't help but at least be a biiiiit curious as she peered over at the foyer that the other party was likely now in... Only to realize that she had let in someone totally unfamiliar to her. At that moment, her stomach dropped, but she also did her best to remain calm while Spot gurgled at the newcomer.

In a drier voice, the older woman inquired, "Do you need anything?", while slowly reaching a hand out for that third banana. It was a simple process. She grabbed the banana, then gave it a pull. It'd snap away from the rest of the bunch as expected, and then- "I do not give a shit, really. Whether it be some informal chitchat, a request for artistic inspiration, or just somewhere to stay for the night... This abode is it. I'm surprised that my wife and I have not gotten arrested yet considering the people we take under our wing sometimes, but-" She paused again, this time gulping slightly.

You fucked up like a dumbass, didn't you?

"- As long as you are not here to extract information from me for that 'Company,' then you should be fine..." she muttered under her breath while tightening her grip on the banana. For a moment, Rochester really, really regretted not locking the door. If she locked the door, at least she could stall his arrival until Beatrice came home to verify that he wasn't here to kick anybody's ass, but- As she took in another breath, the old woman gently stroked the banana's smooth skin. There was, in fact, no way that she could even dream of using the fruit to deliver an uppercut, or at least use the peel to make the floor a hazard. Beatrice, maybe. But not Rochester, surprisingly enough.

So, with some reluctance, Rochester shifted the banana to the cutting board and grunted, "I will address you in a second, by the way. I just need to prepare some fruit for myself and Spot. Don't kick my ass over this, all right? You probably would not like the outcome anyhow." She chuffed wryly before making the initial incision on the fruit. "By the way, do you want some fruit? I am just about ready to finish cutting up some bananas if you give a shit about that."

NP maaaay get a follow-up if I have the time??

(Bumping this, I loved this game so much lol but it's like 4 am rn-)

kafkaesque

Oris grinned maliciously as the older woman opened the door to her home. "Who the hell are you? What the HELL are you doing at my doorstep at 6 in the morning?" Rochester grumbled as Oris snickered, an old, tattered album held under her arm. "You are.. Rochester, correct?" She asked, putting on an innocent facade. To this Rochester rolled her eyes, glaring at the younger woman. "Cut the crap kid, what do you want?" Oris brought out the old album and flipped it open. "You see, i have your old reciepts!" She chirped. "Extortion, tax fraud, embezzlement- you have quite a history here!" Rochester tried but failed to grab the album, as Oris had stored it in the fur of her tail. "Welll. i need some cash, and you're loaded, yeah?"

Orisquirrelking  henlo :3 also sorry, Cerys is being a meanie here, but ig that’s what villains do.

Cerys’s approach had been slow and methodical, as if she’s truly in no hurry to get wherever she’s going. Her eyes seem to scan the street for a moment before settling on Oris, recognition sparking across her face for a moment before settling into a easy smile. 

“Found you.” Her voice lilts, and she changes directions, heading straight for Oris. A little faster than before, she stops just close enough to the other villain to be within arms reach.

“The streets and buildings around here are so unfamiliar to me, I’m surprised I was able to make sense  of it long enough to at least gain some semblance of direction.” The mage laughs, looking at least slightly sheepish before she shakes her head.

“Ah that doesn’t matter now, what matters is I finally found you… Oris correct???” The woman tilts her head.

Regardless of how Oris answers, the earth right beneath their feet rumbles a little, and what appear to be small rocks, trail out of Cerys’s sleeve, forming into a small viper like construct, that weaves patiently through her fingers as she speaks. 

“I’ve been sent on behalf of The Archivist on a few small errands within this city, and a little bird told me you might be able to help me in particular?” The mage’s gazes flicks between the woman and the snake curling around her hands.

After a moment, she bursts into laughter, the snake fixing its attention on Oris.

“Bah who am I kidding! I’m making it sound like there’s a better option here… and there is… it’s just not the best for you.” The viper hisses from her hand eagerly, as if waiting to be allowed to strike. Cerys simply seems to be watching for Oris’s reaction amusedly, a sly smirk on her face. A particularly cruel tactic… threats and such, but Cerys found they were effective regardless.

OOoh Follow up time! She absolutely deserves a beat down.

Cerys was most certainly lost, of that she was certain. She hadn't planned to end up in Metro, but here she was, wandering the streets. While she'd hoped to find something familiar, anything that might get her closer to getting to her destination, it appeared she was being followed. It wasn't a new feeling, being followed. It was just a little concerning.

It's not until a cat-like creature steps out of the shadows, pacing around her like a predator sizing up its prey, that she begins to worry a little. Not enough for her concerns to show on her face. Her red eyes follow him carefully as he walks and talks. The mage scoffs at Loan's words, rolling her eyes.

"All this trouble for a small spot of money. I'll admit that I don't have much on me, despite how fine these clothes appear." Cerys appears mostly arrogant until Loan mentions his familiarity with her. Her expression turns more severe and thoughtful. She never would have guessed her reputation to precede her. Though it, unfortunately, seemed to be the cause of this particular encounter.

The mage doesn't flinch when the Cat grabs her collar, her expression mostly bored up until he remarks about the blood on her hands. Cerys chuckles lightly, before her laugh morphs into something more unhinged.

"On my hands?! Now now, I'll have you know that most of the time it's other people who do the killing and violence, I just gave them a polite nudge in that direction. You flatter me thoug-" Cerys doesn't get a chance to finish her thoughts, as Loan's brass-knuckled fist slams directly into her face. She lets out a startled choking noise, stumbling back as the cat lets her go. Blood pours from her broken nose, staining her once white gloves with splatters of red. 

She glares through teary eyes at Loanshark, a mixture of hatred and anger on her face. Definitely not what she expected this evening to go.

"Y-you're going to regret that!" She growls, which would sound alarming, if her voice didn't sound odd as it went through her broken nose.

robyngoodfellowe

A knock at his door- this early in the morning? Nobody comes around to the slums this early with any good intentions. Fuck. Reign rubbed his tired eyes and pulled himself out of bed, trying to be as quiet as he could be to see who was there out of the peephole in his door.

A small black cat donning a mask- one he unfortunately remembered from last weekend. Reign was a little short on cash after blowing it all at a casino instead of doing the responsible thing and paying his bills. Damn it, why's gambling gotta be so fun? Reign had told him when he took out the loan that he wasn't going to have the money until this weekend, assuming he wins the next tournament he'll battle in, so why is Loanshark around here now?

The knocking became more intense, as if Loanshark was trying to break the door and Reign had it. He reached under his bed, trying to look for where he put his trusty nail bat. Shit. He couldn't find it. He didn't have the time to see where the hell he could've left it, these doors are cheap, slumlords aren't going to shell out for expensive doors. He noticed an empty bottle of booze on his nightstand. Good enough weapon, he supposed. Just needs a little something. He smashed it against the nightstand, figuring he'd clean up the glass from his r/malelivingspace-looking ass room later.

"Hey, can you not try to break my door in?" Reign said as he opened the door to greet the black cat. "I fucking told you that I'll have your money by Saturday. Take a look at a calendar. It sure as hell ain't Saturday yet now, is it? Now scram. Unless you'd rather forgo payment altogether and pay some hospital bills instead." He brandished the broken bottle at Loanshark for a little extra flair. He didn't really have any real intention to start a fight, hoping that this was enough to get this scumbag off his back.

"What's with that stare?" Reign asked, a bit aggressively, his bat slung back behind his shoulder, giving his own inquisitive stare towards the Genome. "What even are you anyway? Is that a tail?" Ironic. Here he was getting pissy at Saiph for his curiosity, but then trying to play 20 questions with him.

"Time out?" Reign huffed a little. "Fine. Hurry it up though, gawker." If he wasn't holding his bat, he would've crossed his arms indignantly.

"You've got some nerve to call me a coward..." He said, in quite the pissed off tone until he started bursting in laughter at noticing the boy was holding up an air freshener. "You seriously can't be intending to fight me with THAT now, are you?" He hasn't laughed like this in a while. "I'm not gonna beat your ass. For now. Be considerate of how you're leering at others though, because next time you might not get off so lucky, air freshener boy."

(omg yes it was great! i loved it lmfao)

Oh god. It's one of those soldiers, isn't it?

Saiph only knew of them from books of the future, but there was now one standing before him, right in the flesh. The fighter was clutching onto a nail-lined bat worn down from strikes upon strikes in combat, and it was raring for another beatdown. Saiph couldn't escape now. He had to make a move or he'd face death. Sure, he could try entering Trance, but that'd only result in more issues down the line for the boy, more than imaginable. Saiph just looked at him a little funny, why was he out for blood all of a sudden...?

In that moment, the Genome made up his mind. Reaching his dominant hand to his waist, he sought out the help of his trusty rapier, and... It wasn't there.

"Uhm, ah, ahem- sir! Time out, time out! Please!" Saiph begged, looking into the hushed city around him for a clue as to where it is, before he realized-- he left it at that blacksmith guy's workshop. ...Shit.

"More time please, more time, more time..." It was a miracle Saiph wasn't getting beaten to a pulp quite yet, and that he even had the time to retreat to the alleyways to look for something-- anything-- to fight off this Shinra castaway. In the dark, he rummaged, and rummaged, and rummaged a little more, until...

"Ooooo-kay! Come fight me... Coward!" Saiph said, as maturely as he could've for a 15 year old. The moonlight revealed the weapon he had hand-picked from the obscured shadows. Saiph looked in confusion, realizing this was probably one of the greatest fuck-ups of his life...

He was holding an air freshener.

"I uhm-- I-- I-- uh, well, you see, my chocobo smelled a little funky and he must've flung it to the side for me to use, see- the edge is real sharp, so... You better start running, sir!" Lindblum's finest Genome, everyone...

i was legit at a loss for that one lol. i hope this is aight!!

"Ah, me? What's the prob--" A hiss of static from the speakers caused Saiph to cover his ears as quick as he could. What the hell was that?! He's never heard of anything that loud in his life, nor has he ever seen a being with some sort of electric-powered screen for a head. He really, really should've gotten more sleep last night, geez!

"Well, now I'm not having fun! Look, you even made Grandma Pickle run in fear-- she can't hear a thing! Have you no shame?!" retorted Saiph angrily, as his tail bristled up. The noise was starting to get to him, and was gradually boiling up his very soul with the color red. An unbecoming snarl left with his breath, and he was about to lunge at him, until...

Bonk!

Saiph was seeing stars if only for a moment, but when he recollected himself, he looked to find out that there was a bucket over his head. His snarls continued, but much softer until they eventually let off and Saiph sighed, drooping his tail downwards.

"Heh. Hahahaahaha! ...Ah....." Saiph chortled, only for one, genuine moment before deadpanning again, almost as if he forgot he was still in peril. "Will you leave me alone, now?"

"Hey! Hey kid, you! Yeah, yeah you!" Techno blared from his speakers, metallic feet rushing towards the poor Genome with an empty can in hand.

Whatever the virus had planned, it wasn't going to be nearly as cool nor as funny as he would find any action he preforms. Loud music was practically deafening from his headphones, making it shocking that the object head could even understand a word out of his OWN mouth, yet alone anyone around him.

"Yeah! I saw you're not having fun out here, huh?" He leaned down, tossing the can up and down in his hand as his monitor erased his face, replacing it temporarily with the words 'party killer!' in bright, rainbow colors.

"That's so lame!" Techno snickered, "Why're you still here! I should toss you out for being a bore here!"

It was only a joking threat, but--- Then for the extra oomph to his words and actions, the bot smashed the can on Saiph's head, mostly like how a man at a party with smash a can with his own forehead. Not hard enough to hurt exactly, but certainly annoying and took the joking threat into more of a--- Well. Techno basically hit someone. That wasn't really a joke, now was it?

He certainly found it to be hilarious, though.

"Look at that! You've got a skull of steel!"

Oh, oh Techno. You poor, poor idiot.

"Listen here varmint, if I get one more fella callin me up about some noise complaint, I'll...I'll..."

He heaved sigh of exasperation, a clink sounding as a metal hand went to pinch the bridge of his nose. He can't really threaten this guy over the sound. Yeah it was annoying some people, but it's harmless. But he couldn't let it all keep happening either. So middle ground....Think Haymond think..."

A mechanical arm stretched out to his right until he felt his way around for an object to use. Which ended up being...a blouse. Great.

"You'll be wearin the ugliest blouse you've ever laid your screen on. You're not going to believe how bad it is."

He tossed the blouse he grabbed aside, making a mental note to return it later. 

Jessy looked up at the blue chimereon and immediately grabbed a chair randomly floating beside her and pointing it twords Wilder " stay stay stay back!! I don't want your..." her thoughts drifted off before she could finish the sentence. She zapped back to reality and bonked wilder over the head with the chair

(generator result was video games, acted like they already know each other just to make the prompt easier)

"Hey, you cheated! You must've used your weird code things and made your character way better!" The two were playing games together, and Paintsplash lost by a wide margin. She knew this game decently well, knew most of the characters--either that character was way more OP than she remembered, or something was fishy here. Maybe she was just a sore loser, but she didn't think so. "Rematch before I throw this controller at you so hard it leaves a hole in the wall. And no funny business this time, okay?" It was a joke, or meant to be one, but it came out with a tone that made it sound dead serious. Oops.