[ LOG ] 21.10.26 Tapestries

Laur's Brownstone Apartment(#177273R)

It's a two-story brownstone in a pretty halfway decent neighborhood. The building itself is wider than most, however. Likely a much older residence. Which means the apartments are roomier. From the front door, there's a staircase that leads up to the second floor apartment and a landing outside of said apartment. There's a basic doormat outside what must be the entry door, though there is another door down the wall that appears to be unused, but could possibly provide access into the residence. There's minimal clutter out here. A couple boxes for car parts, an umbrella hung on the wall, two chairs stacked on each other in a corner.

Inside the door is the dining-slash-common area. A big table resides here, cluttered with typical dining table items - bills, ads, a newspaper. Two chairs sit at the table, but otherwise it's pushed up against the corner walls. There's a kitchen tucked off in one corner; small, but more than enough for the occupant it seems. It's tidy enough, maybe a dish or two in the sink. The fridge, if peeked in, is decently stocked - leftovers, beer, etc.

Through the middle of the apartment is a set of closets, likely containing clothing and other small storage, and the bathroom; a small hallway runs between them. The bathroom is just typical - a tub with a shower, a toilet, a small sink cluttered with items that would make one guess a female of the species lives here.

The front of the apartment, which looks out over the street, is where the bedroom has been set up. A full size bed juts out from in front of the unused fireplace, unmade, and covered in black and grey sheets and blankets. There's a variety of paraphernalia decorating the fireplace mantle, which has now become a glorified headboard. A knife, brass knuckles, a pack of cigarettes, a couple cool-looking empty liquor bottles. The front bay windows have blackout curtains, though they are pulled back more often than not.

Directly across from the bed, in a small alcove, is an older-looking dresser with a huge mirror atop it. Doubles as a full length mirror from afar and the top of the dresser is cluttered with personal effects.

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Laur, once at her place, escorts the dog and his.............friend up to her place. Briefly, upon their arrival, someone in the apartment downstairs peeks out the window, but they don't linger.

Brice is clearly in a hurry to get inside, he doesn't even offer a polite thanks for being invited to her place as he steps into the apartment and looks around. He can't be too cautious when entering a strange place with an equally strange person. Who knows who she might be working for?

Laur would agree, for the most part. But the apartment just looks like someone lives here. She closes the door behind them, though she doesn't lock it, she figures that'll put him on edge more than he is now. But she pulls the aforementioned switchblade and brass knuckles out of her jacket, placing them on the kitchen table, before she shrugs her jacket off and places it on the back of a chair. "Home sweet home."

Brice eyes the weapons she puts down, almost like he wants to ask but refrains from doing so for now. "So..." He wanders her apartment without actually touching or examining anything. He's like a shark, has to constantly be in motion otherwise he might pass out or something. "You saw him."

Laur shrugs, "Apparently, yeah. Wouldn't've seen nothin' if he wasn't so protective of those fries." It's true, to be fair. She doesn't seem to mind him pacing the apartment as she gives herself a once over for any bumps or bruises from earlier in the evening, but seems unscathed.

Brice actually smiles at her comment but the expression's pretty brief; blink and she'd miss him looking like anything other than his usual worn out self. "He's a greedy pa--" ~WE ARE NOT!~ Suddenly the white eyed, fang mawed, blobby.... thing appears on his left shoulder while snapping its jaws. ~It was our food, not yours!~ it growls at her.

Laur points at the...blobby thing, "Hey! Don't yell at me in my fuckin' house. And you should know fries are communal diner food!" Listen, it's true, buddy. Unwritten rule.

Brice's ears droop. He already knows this isn't going to go well. Even if he protests it's too late. Game on. ~You did not even ASK, you scavenger!~ The blob snaps its jaws again and lashes a tentacle out in the direction of her kitchen. ~How would YOU feel if we ate all of your food?!~ "Oh no, no. We're not doing that. Just... calm down. Both of you." He rubs at the bridge of his muzzle.

Laur points, like, harder. "I am not even going to get into how NEITHER of my species are scavengers!" She certainly looks like she wants to reach out and snatch that tentacle, but she thankfully does not. Instead, she focuses back on Brice, "Your slime is /rude/."

Brice glances over to the.... whatever it is hovering by his shoulder and growls a little. "I can't take you anywhere! And you wonder why we had to leave!" ~We left because we wanted to see the beach! You left because YOU are a coward.~ The blob turns to glare at Laur, its eyes narrowing, and then suddenly that tentacle is moving fast as a whip towards her fridge. "Hey! NO!" He grabs for it and tries to pull it back, but for all the strength he has the tentacle is clearly stronger.

Laur watches them bicker and then, when the tentacle goes for her fridge, she also snatches it, and she's stronger than she looks. "Do fucking not."

( The blob lets out an angry hiss as the tentacle continues, though more slowly, writhing its way towards the fridge. Brice tries to help her out with the... super weird game of tug of war while the blob just flings another tentacle towards the fridge. ~She started it but we will end it!~ "Oh come ON!" )

( From outside, this would be comical. If any of Laur's friends with keys to her place opened the door right now, it'd be hilarious. "You are a petulant child!" You are too, Laur. Just a little bit. She smacks at the other tentacle and stalks towards the fridge. "You want something of mine?" She pulls out some leftover chinese, in the iconic takeout container and shoves it at the tentacle, "Eat the fuckin' general tso's and shut up." )

Brice is barely managing to keep the other tentacle from wreaking havoc upon the apartment while the blob just grins in an unsettling manner. ~Why thank you.~ The tentacle closest to Laur snatches the container, gives it a shake, then flings the contents at her. The dog looks utterly mortified. "HEY! WHAT THE FUCK?! You can't do that! Apologize you parasite!" Bad choice of words. The blob frowns and snaps at the dog's ears, all while the tentacle he's holding wraps around his arm and hefts him completely off of the floor. ~What did we say about using that word?~ "I wouldn't use it if you'd stop being a jerk!"

Laur is, quite frankly, appalled that this fuckin slime has come into her home and THROWN FOOD AROUND. She shakes herself off, cold rice scattering on the tile floor, and grabs a chef's knife from the counter. "You two clearly don't get along. We could cut him out."

Brice recoils but, as soon as the knife comes out the dog is gone and there's a very pissed off, 7+ foot tall... vaguely canine-looking oily black thing standing in his place. ~YOU WILL PUT THAT DOWN OR WE WILL MAKE YOU INTO LEFTOVERS,~ the creature snarls, flexing its claws in her direction. ~WE WILL EAT YOUR HEAD NOW AND SAVE THE REST FOR LATER.~

Laur points at the....now big dog-thing. Still with the knife. But she does not have the body language that she's going to follow through on the threat anyhow, but she does maintain eye contact. "YOU will settle the fuck down in my home. YOU will apologize for being an asshole to your host or...whatever you two have going on here," she's not as firm on that one, she's not clear on the situation. "Chill the fuck out," she returns the knife to the knife block, "This whole thing is just attractive now."

Brice snarls and takes a step forward. Well, they take a step forward. It's... confusing. ~We are NOT a parasite so he is NOT our host!~ The dog-thing snaps its overly fang filled jaws at her as it looms, frowning even when she puts the knife away. When she speaks up again it blinks, head tilting, and actually looks very confused. ~You are not her. Why do you say we are attractive?~

Laur steps forward, this is clearly not intimidating in the way they were hoping to her. "Then what the fuck are you?" She sneers, more for effect than anything, and she side-steps past him, er, them? Either way, she side-steps past them back into the dining area, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. "C'mon." Like they should just know.

Brice snorts and lashes out a few tentacles to drag her back in its direction. ~You did not answer our question so we will not answer yours until you do!~ Its claws dig into the floor and it remains in place. For now.

Laur actually did not expect that. But she motions to the floor and the claws. "Can you not. This place is pre-war", she comments before shrugging. "Listen, one of my old boyfriends had a metal arm. I spend half my evenings parkouring across the city beating up criminals. How isn't whatever weird shapeshifting thing you have going on hot??" This seems, like, SO obvious to her.

Brice grudgingly stops carving up her apartment's floor like it's a holiday ham, but its tentacles remain in place as its eyes widen. ~You fight bad guys?~ Its ears perk forward and its long, red tongue slithers free from its monstrous maw as it starts to drool. ~We too hunt bad guys. We have permission to eat their heads!~ It wags its tail excitedly as the tentacles around her give her a squeeze. ~Tell us MORE.~

Laur pats him with a free hand, "Put me down first."

Brice squints before letting her go. It doesn't drop her roughly but it's not too gentle about it either. If she can pull a knife she can land on her own feet. ~You are on your feet. Now.~ It crouches down, smile widening to shark-like dimensions, rows on rows on rows of teeth along with that drooly tongue fully on display. ~Tell us more.~

Laur would agree. She can land on her feet just fine. She waves a hand as it crouches down. "My parents were, like, state-sanctioned vigilantes back before, like, superheroes got big. My mom's got Tijuana bibles about her, my dad...." she frowns a bit, "If you've ever heard of The Comedian, you've heard of my dad." But she doesn't elaborate. "Either way, I like punching things. Punching criminals means I'm at least punching bad guys, so it's a good option to get out my love of punching things!"

Brice tilts its head and looks confused. Apparently it, they?, it, have no clue as to what she's talking about. ~Punching is a bad way of convincing them to stop. That is why we eat their heads. They cannot commit crimes again if they are dead.~ It grins even wider. ignoring any drool it might let splatter onto her floor.

Laur says, "And I cannot go to prison for murder," she points out. "Most crooks are just doing petty crimes. A good ass kicking usually teaches them the lesson. All the big bads, the folks with actual powers take care of. They're too busy for the riff-raff."

Brice huffs and shakes its head. ~We take care of all criminals. We were promised! We now have a free pass to eat heads.~ The not-dog twitches and then turns its head, like it's listening to someone. ~YOU SAID! We can eat all the heads! We have a deal! No take backs!~

Laur snorts a little at the bickering. "Sounds like something you two should work out," she says, "But keep in mind, decapitation is a real specific M.O. and that's gonna get you noticed quick." A pause. "May as well eat the whole body while you're at it."

Brice grimaces. ~We only need the brain. The rest of the body tastes like shit. We refuse to eat it. Why don't you eat it?~ Because that's a totally normal thing to ask. ~You are a predatory creature. You are not domesticated.~

Laur grimaces back, "Ew. God, do you know what kind of shit people put in their bodies? I didn't realize you were such a ~picky eater~." Wait. "Wait, why do you only need the brain? What good is that?"

Brice licks its lips with that far too long tongue. ~It is the best part of your bodies. The tastiest. You would consider it...~ Those weird white eyes squint for a moment. ~He won't admit it but to him, it tastes like the best pizza ever. We think it is more like chocolate, which is not good for him.~

Laur squints back, "Yeah, usually when we eat each others' brains it causes some nasty shit in the person who snacked down," she says, "Yeah, dogs and chocolate don't mix great. Not that that seems to stop literally any canine I've ever known, though..."

Brice snorts and shakes its head. ~We are not bothered by your Earth illnesses. We are immune to most of them and the others we just purge from this body. Or devour it and regrow what we internally ate.~ Yeah, that makes perfect sense! Seems way better than going to a doctor.

Laur motions at him, "Then why do you need to hitchhike in someone else's body?" Hey, it's a fair question. If something can regrow parts and is immune to illnesses, why need a host? Or...whatever this situation is.

Brice bares its fangs as it ripples over said host's body. ~We require a host to function on this planet. That is all you need to know. We know nothing about you by the way. You carry many weapons, you...~ It sniffs the air, tongue flicking, ~You smell like blood. What is YOUR story?~

Laur waves a hand, as though it isn't obvious. "The whole vigilante thing I just mentioned?" She examines her claws, which do still have dried blood under them. "Someone got a little rough, so I got rough back. He'll have a hard time hiding that wound on his jaw for awhile."

Brice starts to smile. ~It is difficult to hide a jaw wound if the person no longer has a jaw,~ it "helpfully" points out. ~And if you take away the head and the hands there is less of a chance for them to be found via DNA rec--~ "Okay that's ENOUGH!" There's a shudder from head to toe and the face splits in half, revealing, oh, there the dog is! "Don't listen to him! I never should've given him access to my TV. Or the internet. Or true crime podcasts."

Laur snorts and cackles, "He's not wrong, but that's not so easy when there's, y'know, records of your existence and ways to track a murder back to you." She taps her chin a second, "Although...is it a crime if the body is never found...?"

Brice tries to say something in response but, nope! He gets... absorbed, for lack of a better term, back into the giant blobby monster. ~Ignore him. He is a whiny bitch. He is worried about things like consequences and police.~

Laur punches the monster's shoulder, though there's not a lot of force behind it. It's clearly more of a 'hey, shithead' kind of gesture. "Yeah, he's gotta be, because if you eat a bunch of heads and then bail, he's the one who's gonna end up behind bars for it. Even I'm not that stupid. You gotta learn the lay of the land here."

Brice grunts but, when her fist hits its shoulder, it just kinda... gives. Squishy but firm. It stares down at her and sneers. ~We will free him from any prison. We need to consume brains to live. He forces us to eat low quality substitutes! He is, what do you call it, a pussy! We will keep him safe if he helps us!~

Laur says, "I mean, there's other kinds of brains, is it only people brains? Like, there's a whole fuckin' ton of weird-ass food options here, including just about any types of animal brains you'd want to taste test." This seems a logical solution. "Why brains, anyhow?"

Brice snarls and hunches down so it's on eye level wit her. ~Other brains are tasteless. Mealy. Bland!~ It pauses and taps a few claws against its chin. ~Plain white toast! Boring!~ It grumbles under its breath. ~We hunger for it the same reason you hunger for chocolate. It is good. The chemicals are required.~ It clearly looks unhappy about admitting this to someone who is still, technically, a stranger. ~But if we die, he dies. So do not get any.... funny ideas.~

Laur suggests, "You could put some seasoning on them. Who eats plain white toast!?" She waves a hand dismissively, "I can tell when I'm outclassed, I'm not /that/ stupid. Your secret is safe with me. Pinky promise, or something."

Brice tilts its head, growls in a contemplative tone, then extends a hand with one clawed pinky outstretched. It smiles in what it thinks is a friendly manner. ~Pinky promise. Otherwise we will take your pinky. And your head.~

Laur didn't think he'd actually go with that, but she sticks a pinky out and latches it with the monster's. "Stop threatening to eat my head. I can't grow shit back."

Brice laughs. An actual laugh, not something mixed with a threat. ~It is not a threat. It is a... head's up. We think that is a pun of sorts.~ Its weird tail wags as it smiles even more. ~He is displeased with this deal but he is annoying. So squeamish.~

Laur snickers, "Yeah, that's a fuckin' pun alright. And he should be on board! I'm just agreeing not to fuckin tell everyone about y'all. I thought that was his plan from the get-go."