OPEN ; Residential
Characters: Grift (grinninggrifter) and OPEN
Date/Time: November 8th/late afternoon
Location: Residential
Rating: PG
Summary: Grift is forced into physical labour by his familiar. This chronicles his first meeting with her and the subsequent result, and hopefully, the meeting with others tormented/overjoyed by their furry companion's presence.
Grift had finally been falling into the familiar monotony of things when life threw another curve ball his way. His bed down at Temporary Housing was small to begin with, and when he woke up, he found that it had become twice as small as before. Unfortunately, the bed wasn’t what had morphed, no, that would have been far too easy. Instead, what looked like a giant cat was lying on its side all the way down, its massive paws far too close to him for comfort. He stayed stock still, restraining the shrill whine that began in the back of his throat. Grift would have liked to say that he wasn’t a whiner, but there was a visceral reaction when a man-eating monster was right beside you.
Good morning.
“Shit!” Grift scrambled out of bed and clamped onto a gun he had rescued from the wreckage of his home. It had no bullets in it, but he had long since found out that guns didn’t need bullets to intimidate. It didn’t intimidate the cougar, which batted the gun from his admittedly slack hands.
There’s no need for that, really. Her voice was deep, but unmistakably feminine and distractingly familiar. What’s your name?
He swallowed. “Grift.”
Well, well. Grift, honey. She leapt off the bed effortlessly and paced around him. I’m stuck with you, and you’re stuck with me.
“Do you-“ He stopped to get his bearings. Christ. He was talking to a cougar. “What were you doing in my bed?”
Why do you look so troubled?
“Well,” he pointed out, “you’re a cougar.”
Why is it any of your business whether or not I like my men young? Before Grift could say a word, she threw her head back and laughed, a long, throaty sound that left no room for interjection.
“All right. Do you have a name, at least?”
Even if I did, I don’t think I’d be particularly inclined to tell you, sweetheart. You don’t look like the nice sort.
Grift looked down at himself in bewilderment. “Was it the dirty clothing or the gun that tipped you off on that one?”
Very good. You’re already getting smart with me. She lunged at him, and pinned him to the ground. His heart beat madly. Normally, when a woman with a voice as attractive as this one’s tackled him, his heart beat for a different reason entirely, but so was life. Her claws dug gently into his skin, but only just. I’d suggest that you don’t get smart with me, because if you hadn’t noticed, I’m a great deal larger than you, stronger than you, and happen to have jaws strong enough to snap a man’s skull in half. She lay down on top of him, looking altogether too comfortable. Grift would have noted that she was crushing his ribs had she not been, well, crushing his ribs. He was finding it to be very hard to speak at that particular moment. Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll tell you why I know you’re a cad. I know, because outside, it looks like a…bomb’s been dropped. And instead of being out there with the rest of them, you’re sleeping in your little hidey-hole. She rolled off.
“How do you know I’m not resting after a strenuous day?” Grift managed to pant after regaining some of his breath.
I read people well, and you’re an open book. Now, you and I are going to go out there and be good samatarians, otherwise I’ll gut you. Clear?
“Crystal, doll.”
Don’t call me that. She pushed him upwards with her nose and out the door.
“That happens to be my backside. It’s very nice, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch it. If I were a woman, I’d sue you for sexual harassment.”
I don’t think there’s a court in town willing to take your case, she said cheerfully, then added, Did you forget? I’m a cougar, darling.
“You don’t let me call you doll.”
You don’t have fangs.
Their conversations kept on going. In fact, they didn’t stop. Whoever the cougar was had one hell of a motor mouth, and nobody could call Grift a quiet man, either. He found himself victim to what he called flippant violent to the innocent, but unfortunately, nobody cared.
Down in Residential, he had volunteered himself for work, completely against his own wishes, and had soon found out that while his skills lay in many things, it did not lay in construction. He was entrusted with the important jobs of lugging lumber and nailing things that weren’t too important.
Mournfully, Grift wondered what he’d be doing had there not been a cougar clawing him into shape. He sat on a small ledge that remained of the ruins of one of the homes and drank from a small water bottle, using his sleeve to wipe his forehead. He had gotten calluses. He was sweating. His back hurt. His clothing, which had remained the same since the fire and happened to be his nice suit, was filthy, ripped, and he probably smelled. He wanted new clothing, but it wasn’t as if there were any stores open. Physical labour! Him! If the Sphere hadn’t already been engulfed in flames, he would have said that the world was ending. He sighed. When this went unnoticed, he sighed again, louder.
I heard you the first time.
“I hate you.”
I know. But doesn’t a decent day’s work do you a world of good? It’s good for the heart, I’ve heard.
“I notice that you haven’t done a thing.”
I’m more cut out for the managerial duties. Besides, I'm missing opposable thumbs and it's a job in its own just to get you doing your fair share.
So Grift sat, pointedly ignoring the beast sitting smugly beside him, and tried to enjoy his moment of rest while he had it.
Date/Time: November 8th/late afternoon
Location: Residential
Rating: PG
Summary: Grift is forced into physical labour by his familiar. This chronicles his first meeting with her and the subsequent result, and hopefully, the meeting with others tormented/overjoyed by their furry companion's presence.
Grift had finally been falling into the familiar monotony of things when life threw another curve ball his way. His bed down at Temporary Housing was small to begin with, and when he woke up, he found that it had become twice as small as before. Unfortunately, the bed wasn’t what had morphed, no, that would have been far too easy. Instead, what looked like a giant cat was lying on its side all the way down, its massive paws far too close to him for comfort. He stayed stock still, restraining the shrill whine that began in the back of his throat. Grift would have liked to say that he wasn’t a whiner, but there was a visceral reaction when a man-eating monster was right beside you.
Good morning.
“Shit!” Grift scrambled out of bed and clamped onto a gun he had rescued from the wreckage of his home. It had no bullets in it, but he had long since found out that guns didn’t need bullets to intimidate. It didn’t intimidate the cougar, which batted the gun from his admittedly slack hands.
There’s no need for that, really. Her voice was deep, but unmistakably feminine and distractingly familiar. What’s your name?
He swallowed. “Grift.”
Well, well. Grift, honey. She leapt off the bed effortlessly and paced around him. I’m stuck with you, and you’re stuck with me.
“Do you-“ He stopped to get his bearings. Christ. He was talking to a cougar. “What were you doing in my bed?”
Why do you look so troubled?
“Well,” he pointed out, “you’re a cougar.”
Why is it any of your business whether or not I like my men young? Before Grift could say a word, she threw her head back and laughed, a long, throaty sound that left no room for interjection.
“All right. Do you have a name, at least?”
Even if I did, I don’t think I’d be particularly inclined to tell you, sweetheart. You don’t look like the nice sort.
Grift looked down at himself in bewilderment. “Was it the dirty clothing or the gun that tipped you off on that one?”
Very good. You’re already getting smart with me. She lunged at him, and pinned him to the ground. His heart beat madly. Normally, when a woman with a voice as attractive as this one’s tackled him, his heart beat for a different reason entirely, but so was life. Her claws dug gently into his skin, but only just. I’d suggest that you don’t get smart with me, because if you hadn’t noticed, I’m a great deal larger than you, stronger than you, and happen to have jaws strong enough to snap a man’s skull in half. She lay down on top of him, looking altogether too comfortable. Grift would have noted that she was crushing his ribs had she not been, well, crushing his ribs. He was finding it to be very hard to speak at that particular moment. Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll tell you why I know you’re a cad. I know, because outside, it looks like a…bomb’s been dropped. And instead of being out there with the rest of them, you’re sleeping in your little hidey-hole. She rolled off.
“How do you know I’m not resting after a strenuous day?” Grift managed to pant after regaining some of his breath.
I read people well, and you’re an open book. Now, you and I are going to go out there and be good samatarians, otherwise I’ll gut you. Clear?
“Crystal, doll.”
Don’t call me that. She pushed him upwards with her nose and out the door.
“That happens to be my backside. It’s very nice, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch it. If I were a woman, I’d sue you for sexual harassment.”
I don’t think there’s a court in town willing to take your case, she said cheerfully, then added, Did you forget? I’m a cougar, darling.
“You don’t let me call you doll.”
You don’t have fangs.
Their conversations kept on going. In fact, they didn’t stop. Whoever the cougar was had one hell of a motor mouth, and nobody could call Grift a quiet man, either. He found himself victim to what he called flippant violent to the innocent, but unfortunately, nobody cared.
Down in Residential, he had volunteered himself for work, completely against his own wishes, and had soon found out that while his skills lay in many things, it did not lay in construction. He was entrusted with the important jobs of lugging lumber and nailing things that weren’t too important.
Mournfully, Grift wondered what he’d be doing had there not been a cougar clawing him into shape. He sat on a small ledge that remained of the ruins of one of the homes and drank from a small water bottle, using his sleeve to wipe his forehead. He had gotten calluses. He was sweating. His back hurt. His clothing, which had remained the same since the fire and happened to be his nice suit, was filthy, ripped, and he probably smelled. He wanted new clothing, but it wasn’t as if there were any stores open. Physical labour! Him! If the Sphere hadn’t already been engulfed in flames, he would have said that the world was ending. He sighed. When this went unnoticed, he sighed again, louder.
I heard you the first time.
“I hate you.”
I know. But doesn’t a decent day’s work do you a world of good? It’s good for the heart, I’ve heard.
“I notice that you haven’t done a thing.”
I’m more cut out for the managerial duties. Besides, I'm missing opposable thumbs and it's a job in its own just to get you doing your fair share.
So Grift sat, pointedly ignoring the beast sitting smugly beside him, and tried to enjoy his moment of rest while he had it.