[AIM LOG/COMPLETED]
WHO: Grimm Joe (stradapanthera) and Queer Rudy Brian (salvationdenied)
WHAT: There's a panther in Brian's living room! No. Really.
WHERE: Brian's living room and Ancora Una Volta
WHEN: Day 78
WHY:
salvationdenied: Brian made his way to the bar wearing the short sleeved shirt and sweat pants he had woken up in. He had barely stumbled from his bedroom, bleary eyed and still asleep, to see the black figure in the extra bedroom he kept the dogs in and thought, that possibly, he was still dreaming when the thing looked up at him, one of the puppies in its mouth and yowled at him. Brian didn't fucking need to take a second look before he grabbed his keys and sandals and moved, in a dead run, out of the apartment. It was sitting on the steps that he texted the community, to see if one of the rich pricks of the city had lost one of their pets. And when no reply came, he figured that the thing was illegal and that he'd have to get around to moving to out of his apartment.
...whether it was in pieces like the kid suggested or not.
But it hadn't come to that, and Brian was meeting the sorry son of a bitch that would have to get the big cat out of his apartment at the bar again. The same one he had fought in the week before. The memory of it, and things that had followed, brought a smile to his face.
He approached the sitting area of the bar, a new addition as they tried to make the place accessible to everyone, not just those looking to get fucked up.
Sighing heavily, he slid into a chair and waited, fidgeting on his phone, checking e-mails and wondering when the fuck Kristoph would get back to him on his "decision".
"..fuck." The word comes from under his breath, barely there.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow had been more than a little surprised to see someone claiming a panther had gotten into their home. Out of all the animals it could be, it was a panther. Not a lion or a tiger. It was the same fucking animal Grimmjow shared genes with. Ever since those fucking experiments he'd had a strange affinity for cats. And they seemed to have one for him, too. Christ, he fucking transformed into a cat-like beast, so it all made perfect sense. That was why he wasn't about to let that panther be put down and destroyed like some fucking dog. And he wasn't going to let some assholes throw it into a cage like a fucking pet, either. Grimmjow himself wouldn't put up with that shit from the few assholes who had wanted to leash him. Whether Grimmjow liked to admit it or not, he wasn't going to let that damn panther be harmed.
And he didn't really need to wait for it to calm down. It wasn't going to attack him once it caught his scent, but even if it did, a quick punch to its fucking face would knock it out. He wasn't one to say no to going for a drink, though. Nothing to fucking do today anyway.
He nudged open the door to the bar and sauntered inside, hands in his pockets, looking as mean as a pissed off panther. Grimmjow made his way to the bar and dropped himself lazily into a seat next to the guy.
"You the asshole with the panther," he said in a way that made it so it wasn't really a question at all. What had his name been? Rudy. That fucking queer name.
salvationdenied: Brian looked up, those exact words flashing into his mind as the man came in A pissed off big cat. He strides in, prowled in, looking like he would destroy anything and everything that crossed him or even looked at him the wrong way. It was an impressive show, and he had to give him at least that. Brian's brows lifted and he had to stop himself before he whistled low, and looked up, staring the man in the face.
"Yeah. I'm the asshole with the panther. Are you Grimmjow?" He said it "Grim Joe", because really, how was he supposed to know any better? He leaned back in the chair, staring out at the view of the street, two beers sitting in front of him that had come in the time it had taken the other man to get here. He leans back in the chair, nice and easy, his posture straight but not haughty. He was relating to this man the way he might a large feral cat.
Dangerous, but not scared. Respectful.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow sneered at the way his name had been pronounced. It wasn't that fucking hard; you pronounced it the way it was fucking spelled. How many dumb assholes lived in this damn city anyway? Seemed like it was fucking filled to the Goddamn brim and then some.
"It's Grimmjow," he corrected irritably.
He knew it could have easily been a set up, too. Living in this city, you had to be smart and ready for anything. If this fucker Rudy had some kind of trap set up, he'd be in for a real fucking surprise. Especially if he thought dealing with a regular panther would be dangerous. But that would come only if this asshole was really that fucking stupid.
Grimmjow took one of the beers with no hesitation at all and subtly watched the other man the way a large cat might be sizing up its prey. There didn't seem to be anything outwardly dangerous about him, his appearance, or his posture. Hell, it seemed like this guy was smart enough to know not to try and make himself look threatening.
salvationdenied:
Brian was indeed smart enough not to go starting fights. At least, not with this guy. And not in a place where the bartender was eyeing him like he was dressed in a purple and green dinosaur suit. He tilted his head and drummed his fingers against the table, nodding as he took a drink from his own bottle when the man corrected him.
"Grimmjow." He said it right, with no outward apology but a gesture with his fingers towards the chair. "You going to sit down?"
He lifted his wrist, but looking down and realizing that he had no watch on, moved for his phone. "I want to give it some time before we go up. It looked pretty angry and I didn't want to.. interrupt its meal." There should be some flag that shoots up at this, the way Brian says this so easily, so matter of factly, that the panther had been eating puppies under Brian's care.
The man either hated dogs to an extreme, or didn't much care either which way.
stradapanthera: Interrupt its meal? Did the dumbshit try to feed it? Might have been funny seeing the guy attempting to give it a slab of meat not realizing the panther would have preferred eating him. Grimmjow hid a grin with a drink from his beer. Either way, at least he was smart enough to back the fuck off of an angry cat. Maybe he had some common sense after all.
"What the fuck's it eating? You keep body parts hidden away in a fridge in case a panther ever gets in?" he laughed. "Or did you pull a little girl off the streets and shove her at the big kitty cat?"
Grimmjow was already considering what to feed it. Maybe dogs. Those fucking things were disgusting and useless and took up too much damn space. If he found some strays wandering around they'd make the perfect fucking dessert.
salvationdenied: Brian takes another drink from the green bottle, shaking his head as he swallowed. Another minute ticked by.
"I had a few puppies I was holding onto for people to pick up. Some black labs." His voice smoothes over the facts with a tone that might as well be saying: and then there were none. He attempts to look distressed at the big cat's choice in breakfast, but fails, miserably. He had too much on his mind (Gavin, fucking Gavin) to try and fake any emotions with this guy. "And I lied..."
Another swig, the man cracking his knuckles before he continued. "I didn't interrupt its meal because she got one good look at me and I got the fuck out."
A grin, inhuman and brief, flits across his expression. There is a Darkness in Brian, one that only one other person in all of Reggio Calabria could understand truly, but that others, like him, killers who killed for the sake of killing, would be able to pick up on. That cold curling voice. A Dark Passenger that serves and pushes him, that jumps into the driver's seat of his life and makes things happen. It was only ever pleased when there was blood around, the smell of death or the whining of bones being cut into by a saw.
Yet this incident had pleased that Darkness somehow, made it laugh, and this put Brian not at ease, but in a strange sort of limbo between confusion and nausea. The latter was possibly because of the adrenaline that still coursed through his veins. And yeah, Brian would love to see someone who didn't break a sweat at finding panther in their living room.
stradapanthera: What a fucking perfect and beautiful thing. The panther had eaten dogs. Puppies. There couldn't have been anything better. A cat eating a dog was a beautiful fucking image. People tended to like dogs more and it wasn't because they were loving. It was because humans loved it when they had something that obeyed their every command. They loved having an animal that would allow itself to be leashed and beaten. Loved being in control of such a weak animal that would roll over for a fucking treat.
They didn't like cats. Cats were strong. They fought back. If you tried to put them on a leash they'd maul your fucking face. They could find their own fucking food whether you felt like feeding them or not. All day they went out on their own, prowling their territory and killing whatever stepped foot into it. When they came back and you pet them it was because they felt like letting you. Cats always fucking triumphed over dogs. Dogs were stupid as all fuck.
Grimmjow really wanted this fucking panther. The idea of that asshole Ulquiorra somehow finding his new location and breaking in only to be mauled by Grimmjow's new friend was exciting as all fuck. And seeing the look on his friends' faces when they came over to be greeted by a fucking panther was something to look forward to.
"Hope you haven't called any fucking authorities," Grimmjow muttered and gave him a side-long glance. "Anyone hurts that fucking cat, the blame's goin' to you. And I'm pretty fucking sure you don't want me coming after you."
salvationdenied: He is still not scared of the man, even as the threats fly loose and easy like punches in a bar brawl. In fact, it would take much more for Grimmjow to frighten Brian like he might frighten others in this town. But monsters don't fear monsters, at least not when they are this close and person, able to look each other in their own beady eyes and see what the other was planning.
He tilts his head to one side to get a better look at him, as if he had misjudged him upon first sight. As if there was something there that he had not seen when Grimm had walked into the bar. There was something besides the arrogant desire for the exotic pet, the desire that Brian imagined had led someone in the coastal Italian city to purchase the illegal pet, drifting across this man's mind. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it was there and lingering still like a settlement of dust in the air after a book's cover had been closed much too hard.
"I haven't called anyone." With that, Brian finished his beer and stood. "Did you bring equipment? I'd appreciate it if my apartment didn't get completely trashed in the process of you getting her out."
He didn't pay, because frankly, despite the fight he had started the week before, this place was still under the gentle hand of Vescovo protection and if they wanted to stay that way, they would swallow their grudges and turn a blind eye to the tabs.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow finished his own beer and set the empty bottle down as he rose to his feet. Any of his close friends would have known he wasn't going to need a damn thing to trap the cat. No equipment, no cage, no fucking dart guns. He knew exactly what he could and could not handle. As stupid as half the population of Italy seemed to think Grimmjow was, he really wasn't. People who survived living on the streets to grow up and make their own fucking money and charge their own damn prices weren't stupid. Grimmjow had a hell of a lot of smarts that he kept to himself.
"Yeah, I brought equipment," Grimmjow replied with a crazy ass grin. He lifted both hands; one was bare and in the other were his keys. "Got my hands and my truck. And they're enough to keep your precious fucking apartment in one piece."
It could fit in the backseat of his truck just fine. The windows were dark enough so people he drove by wouldn't be able to see it. It would be safe there until he got home to his flat where there was more than enough room for two panthers to live. But Grimmjow would be having some kind of fucking word with the cat first to make sure it understood how things were going to be.
salvationdenied: Brian moves from the bar down the street, not waiting for the man to catch on as he sets into an easy stride, his hands sliding into his pockets, fingers still on the cell phone that was on vibrate. When he sees that the man has indeed followed, he speaks, taking in a deep breath as he readies his keys. The walk was not that far; after all, he had suggested this bar because it was close to his house.
"So, are you on a mission to save all lost and homeless big cats in the world?" His tone is joking, slightly, hoping not to misstep here with the man and the feelings he held for his ..cats. He looked forward and ahead as the answer came, seeing his building approaching rapidly.
stradapanthera: "Nah," Grimmjow replied, his keys tucked safely into his pocket again. He hoped the guy lived really fucking close. Anyone who saw a panther following him to his truck might scream bloody fucking murder. And Grimmjow couldn't say he'd stop himself or the panther from ending the screams. "Just this big kitten."
If it were a lion or a tiger, Grimmjow wouldn't be half as fucking concerned. Yeah, still some real big fucking cats. But not like a panther. It was only this lost and homeless big cat that he had an interest in right now. Fucking panther. What the fuck were the odds of that. It was almost like those damn scientists were playing a fucking joke on him.
salvationdenied: Brian has nothing to do with those scientists and he says nothing else as he climbs the stairs to his apartment, the keys coming out from his pocket and into his hand, another deep breath being heaved inwards.
It was easy to see as they entered the building how the big cat had gone in. The buildings in this area of Reggio had been demolished and rebuilt so many times, that their rooftops resembled some sort of Englishman's teeth: jagged and sloping in some areas, pressed up close like lovers that couldn’t get enough of each other. The space between them, between the fire escapes was close enough that even Brian could have jumped from building to building.
He moves through the narrow staircases, through the even more narrow hallway before stopping in front of his door.
He hesitates for a moment, before procuring his keys and sliding them into the lock. And he opens it, bracing himself for a cat that could come jumping.
He braces himself for something that never comes.
The place is silent.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow glanced at the guy with a smirk. The way he was behaving made it seem like he was really fucking scared of the thing. Which was funny, because a lot of assholes didn't know when they should be fucking worried for their life. There didn't look like there was too much to be afraid of yet since nothing came charging out. But cats weren't stupid like dogs. Dogs ran right at you and cats fucking silently hunted you down. If there really was a panther, it was hiding somewhere. And if there wasn't one then Grimmjow was going to kick this asshole through the fucking roof and go back home.
With an impatient sigh, Grimmjow lifted one leg, placed his foot on the guy's ass, and kicked forward to get him into the fucking apartment. If it was enough incentive for the panther to come charging out, then great. If not, then at least it'd make the fucker get out of way so Grimmjow could try and locate where the panther was fucking hiding.
salvationdenied: There is a motion, a flurry of black, behind the kitchen's bar when Brian gets pushed in to the apartment, legs and arms akimbo for a brief second. Brian says nothing, however; no shout of injustice because his peripheral vision catches the motion and he straightens, making himself look bigger and backing up to let Grimm by. This was no longer his issue to deal with.
The cat is there, there is no denying it, and she crouches behind the manmade structure, eyes glinting yellow. She is there, but she considerably less smaller than Brian made her out to be.
The black thing is barely out of cub hood, and would barely weight more than a normal housecat. Its ribs and spine scream abuse and it pants like it can't fully breath in.
The hall from the kitchen to the bedroom is littered, yes, with the corpses of puppies, but none fully eaten, none properly killed.
stradapanthera: The experiments gave Grimmjow more than that transformation--it gave him the ability to hear, see, and smell better, too. And he could smell the stink of the dead dogs and their spilled blood. He could hear the strained way the panther was breathing. Nothing was supposed to be breathing like that when it's fucking healthy.
Grimmjow moved enough so he could get a good look at it and the state it was in. Whatever fucker had owned it before hadn't fucking cared for it the way it needed to be cared for. The damn thing looked like it was starving and that pissed Grimmjow off. Fucking Christ.
After a moment he crouched down not too far from it and extended a hand. He didn't fucking speak cat, but he knew that his scent was similar to one's, if you had the nose to sniff it out.
The panther wasn't the enormous thing the dumbshit had made it seem like. Which would make it easier for Grimmjow to transport anyway; it wasn't too big to be carried.
salvationdenied:
The panther smells him, and doesn't go fleeing, but reacts the same way she might if she caught onto the scent of an older male cat. Cautious and very, very wary of any effort to try kill her.
She is about nine months old, we'll say, a collar suddenly clinking into light as she shifts on her haunches, tail swishing. Yes, she had been a pet, and the people who had owned her were probably trying to feed her meat instead of mixed solids.
The poor thing was starving.
Brian watched this all, frankly, fascinated by the man and his affinity for the feline and not feeling at all sheepish about being freaked out about the panther. She might have been a baby, but she still could slit his throat with a swipe of her paw. So the fear was entirely justified, he told himself.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow's eyes never left the little panther's and he slowly moved closer, not wanting to startle her and make her run and hide elsewhere. Chasing down cats wasn't an interest of his and he'd said he wasn't going to make a mess of the guy's apartment. The guy he was still very much aware of. It felt like he was being watched and Grimmjow didn't particularly care. If the idiot had been that worried about such a small panther then he had to wonder how fucking scared he was of a newborn one. Fucking whatever. The cat was his now.
Grimmjow could see how hesitant the animal was. Like it was afraid he'd rip it to pieces. A cat might have been the only fucking thing in the entire world that he wouldn't destroy. Wouldn't seem fucking right at all.
"C'mere," he muttered. "Can't fucking sit here all day, cat."
The collar on its neck would be removed as soon as Grimmjow got home. Whoever had owned it before wasn't going to have that right any longer. Fuckers couldn't take care of the damn thing they'd tried to tame. He had no intentions of trying to turn it into a pet. It wasn't going to have a fucking collar or a cage or a leash. It would live freely in the house same as he did.
Its meals just might be a little messier.
salvationdenied: She comes out slowly, a real beauty in the light. Her spots dapple black fur, even with the tight and angry show of ribs, she's a beauty. Her paws are also incredibly huge, showing just how large she'll be if she survives to adulthood. She'll top seven feet in length and two hundred pounds. Her teeth will be inches long and numerous.
But for now she is meek, letting go a mew as she moves towards him, sniffing his hand and then pushing her head into his palm like a kitten would, seeking comfort. She pushes towards him, his scent working like magic, because she trusts him and seeks more contact from him.
Brian, in the back of the room, watches this all, eyes skating past the bodies of the puppies and allowing a frown to show. Sure, the thing was cute and the whole spectacle was down right adorable, but he'd have a mess to clean after Grimm left. He sighed, heavily.
stradapanthera: Yeah, damn easy. Grimmjow let his fingers rub behind the panther's ears for a brief moment before he scooped it up into his arms. He could feel the fucking bones beneath that skin and fur and it really pissed him off. Resting the weight of the panther in one arm, he checked the collar with his other hand. The address was right there. Except rather than an address it was like a fucking death warrant. When this little panther was an adult they'd be paying these assholes a visit. Give the girl a taste of human flesh.
Grimmjow liked the smell of the animal. She smelled every bit of a panther, as he imagined he did to other animals or experiments with a heightened sense of smell. It was comforting to him. She smelled different from the kitten he had at home. Different from Rukia. Different from Renji. And the more he thought about how this animal had clearly been treated like a dog, the angrier he grew.
He took his hand from the collar and set it protectively on the panther's head as he turned to that fucking Rudy guy. "Anyone comes lookin' for her, you tell 'em you've never seen a panther in Reggio Calabria."
salvationdenied: Brian’s brows lift up, rising towards his hairline, and he spreads his hands in an "of course" gesture. He has no doubts that the man will be able to take good care of the panther, and has no desire to cross him in any respect. So he nods, and places his hand on the door that is still open, asking no "stupid question", but only reassuring him that if anyone became wise to what had happened, it wouldn't be from Brian.
"She and you were never here. Got it."
He moved, stepping a bit towards Grimm, his head tiled as if to get a better look at the cat. And an odd tone enters his voice as he crosses his arms. "Can I message you now and again to see how she's doing?" He grins. "And what, if anything, you decide to name her?"
Of course, that is not what he really means, at all. The meaning is hiding under that slick veneer of words, but he asks sit anyway, his face all good times and more free drinks.
Grimmjow was a man Brian wanted on his side.
stradapanthera: For a second Grimmjow eyed the other man. Considering he didn't seem to be upset about the death of all those puppies, he highly fucking doubted the guy gave a shit about the panther. But he'd let Grimmjow take her quite willingly and if he wanted his number in return, then it wasn't that big of a deal.
A few text messages now and again from the guy wouldn't be a problem. And giving him his number didn't mean he'd be able to track him down. So fine. Fucking fine. Weird asshole who was afraid of a baby panther could have his damn number to ask him about her in the future.
"Yeah, whatever," he said with a nod and shifted the large cat in his arms. "You got something to take my number down with, or you got some kinda amazing memory in that fucking head of yours?"
salvationdenied: Maybe Brian just liked cats more. He pulls his phone from his pocket and flips it open, taking down the man's phone number when it is given, nodding as he saves it to "Joe".
Yeah, Joe.
Biggest, meanest and scariest Joe he'd ever met and Brian was thankful to whatever twist of fate had brought the cat into his apartment.
First, it had gotten rid of those fucking dogs. And second, well.. he wouldn't have had this experience, would he have?
"Stop by that bar if you ever want to chat. I'm usually there and drinks are always on me."
Again, his hand goes to the door, showing him that he is free to go but most certainly not ushering him out.
stradapanthera: Usually at the bar? Did the guy have no fucking life? Even Grimmjow didn't drink that fucking much. Guess not everyone had a use for themselves in this damn place.
Grimmjow eyed him one last time. Something about the asshole didn't seem right. Couldn't put his finger on it but it was there. If he cared enough he'd try to check into it, but he really didn't give a shit.
Right now Grimmjow needed to worry about figuring out what asshole pet doctor he could find to look the panther over and make sure it wouldn't fucking die in the next few hours. Then he'd need to get to making sure it'd start getting some fucking meat back on those damn bones.
"Yeah, sure," he finally replied. Grimmjow moved through the door with the panther in his arms and glanced back before he went down the steps. "'Least it looks like she's already good at gettin' rid of fucking pests."
That's all a fucking dog was.
WHAT: There's a panther in Brian's living room! No. Really.
WHERE: Brian's living room and Ancora Una Volta
WHEN: Day 78
WHY:
salvationdenied: Brian made his way to the bar wearing the short sleeved shirt and sweat pants he had woken up in. He had barely stumbled from his bedroom, bleary eyed and still asleep, to see the black figure in the extra bedroom he kept the dogs in and thought, that possibly, he was still dreaming when the thing looked up at him, one of the puppies in its mouth and yowled at him. Brian didn't fucking need to take a second look before he grabbed his keys and sandals and moved, in a dead run, out of the apartment. It was sitting on the steps that he texted the community, to see if one of the rich pricks of the city had lost one of their pets. And when no reply came, he figured that the thing was illegal and that he'd have to get around to moving to out of his apartment.
...whether it was in pieces like the kid suggested or not.
But it hadn't come to that, and Brian was meeting the sorry son of a bitch that would have to get the big cat out of his apartment at the bar again. The same one he had fought in the week before. The memory of it, and things that had followed, brought a smile to his face.
He approached the sitting area of the bar, a new addition as they tried to make the place accessible to everyone, not just those looking to get fucked up.
Sighing heavily, he slid into a chair and waited, fidgeting on his phone, checking e-mails and wondering when the fuck Kristoph would get back to him on his "decision".
"..fuck." The word comes from under his breath, barely there.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow had been more than a little surprised to see someone claiming a panther had gotten into their home. Out of all the animals it could be, it was a panther. Not a lion or a tiger. It was the same fucking animal Grimmjow shared genes with. Ever since those fucking experiments he'd had a strange affinity for cats. And they seemed to have one for him, too. Christ, he fucking transformed into a cat-like beast, so it all made perfect sense. That was why he wasn't about to let that panther be put down and destroyed like some fucking dog. And he wasn't going to let some assholes throw it into a cage like a fucking pet, either. Grimmjow himself wouldn't put up with that shit from the few assholes who had wanted to leash him. Whether Grimmjow liked to admit it or not, he wasn't going to let that damn panther be harmed.
And he didn't really need to wait for it to calm down. It wasn't going to attack him once it caught his scent, but even if it did, a quick punch to its fucking face would knock it out. He wasn't one to say no to going for a drink, though. Nothing to fucking do today anyway.
He nudged open the door to the bar and sauntered inside, hands in his pockets, looking as mean as a pissed off panther. Grimmjow made his way to the bar and dropped himself lazily into a seat next to the guy.
"You the asshole with the panther," he said in a way that made it so it wasn't really a question at all. What had his name been? Rudy. That fucking queer name.
salvationdenied: Brian looked up, those exact words flashing into his mind as the man came in A pissed off big cat. He strides in, prowled in, looking like he would destroy anything and everything that crossed him or even looked at him the wrong way. It was an impressive show, and he had to give him at least that. Brian's brows lifted and he had to stop himself before he whistled low, and looked up, staring the man in the face.
"Yeah. I'm the asshole with the panther. Are you Grimmjow?" He said it "Grim Joe", because really, how was he supposed to know any better? He leaned back in the chair, staring out at the view of the street, two beers sitting in front of him that had come in the time it had taken the other man to get here. He leans back in the chair, nice and easy, his posture straight but not haughty. He was relating to this man the way he might a large feral cat.
Dangerous, but not scared. Respectful.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow sneered at the way his name had been pronounced. It wasn't that fucking hard; you pronounced it the way it was fucking spelled. How many dumb assholes lived in this damn city anyway? Seemed like it was fucking filled to the Goddamn brim and then some.
"It's Grimmjow," he corrected irritably.
He knew it could have easily been a set up, too. Living in this city, you had to be smart and ready for anything. If this fucker Rudy had some kind of trap set up, he'd be in for a real fucking surprise. Especially if he thought dealing with a regular panther would be dangerous. But that would come only if this asshole was really that fucking stupid.
Grimmjow took one of the beers with no hesitation at all and subtly watched the other man the way a large cat might be sizing up its prey. There didn't seem to be anything outwardly dangerous about him, his appearance, or his posture. Hell, it seemed like this guy was smart enough to know not to try and make himself look threatening.
salvationdenied:
Brian was indeed smart enough not to go starting fights. At least, not with this guy. And not in a place where the bartender was eyeing him like he was dressed in a purple and green dinosaur suit. He tilted his head and drummed his fingers against the table, nodding as he took a drink from his own bottle when the man corrected him.
"Grimmjow." He said it right, with no outward apology but a gesture with his fingers towards the chair. "You going to sit down?"
He lifted his wrist, but looking down and realizing that he had no watch on, moved for his phone. "I want to give it some time before we go up. It looked pretty angry and I didn't want to.. interrupt its meal." There should be some flag that shoots up at this, the way Brian says this so easily, so matter of factly, that the panther had been eating puppies under Brian's care.
The man either hated dogs to an extreme, or didn't much care either which way.
stradapanthera: Interrupt its meal? Did the dumbshit try to feed it? Might have been funny seeing the guy attempting to give it a slab of meat not realizing the panther would have preferred eating him. Grimmjow hid a grin with a drink from his beer. Either way, at least he was smart enough to back the fuck off of an angry cat. Maybe he had some common sense after all.
"What the fuck's it eating? You keep body parts hidden away in a fridge in case a panther ever gets in?" he laughed. "Or did you pull a little girl off the streets and shove her at the big kitty cat?"
Grimmjow was already considering what to feed it. Maybe dogs. Those fucking things were disgusting and useless and took up too much damn space. If he found some strays wandering around they'd make the perfect fucking dessert.
salvationdenied: Brian takes another drink from the green bottle, shaking his head as he swallowed. Another minute ticked by.
"I had a few puppies I was holding onto for people to pick up. Some black labs." His voice smoothes over the facts with a tone that might as well be saying: and then there were none. He attempts to look distressed at the big cat's choice in breakfast, but fails, miserably. He had too much on his mind (Gavin, fucking Gavin) to try and fake any emotions with this guy. "And I lied..."
Another swig, the man cracking his knuckles before he continued. "I didn't interrupt its meal because she got one good look at me and I got the fuck out."
A grin, inhuman and brief, flits across his expression. There is a Darkness in Brian, one that only one other person in all of Reggio Calabria could understand truly, but that others, like him, killers who killed for the sake of killing, would be able to pick up on. That cold curling voice. A Dark Passenger that serves and pushes him, that jumps into the driver's seat of his life and makes things happen. It was only ever pleased when there was blood around, the smell of death or the whining of bones being cut into by a saw.
Yet this incident had pleased that Darkness somehow, made it laugh, and this put Brian not at ease, but in a strange sort of limbo between confusion and nausea. The latter was possibly because of the adrenaline that still coursed through his veins. And yeah, Brian would love to see someone who didn't break a sweat at finding panther in their living room.
stradapanthera: What a fucking perfect and beautiful thing. The panther had eaten dogs. Puppies. There couldn't have been anything better. A cat eating a dog was a beautiful fucking image. People tended to like dogs more and it wasn't because they were loving. It was because humans loved it when they had something that obeyed their every command. They loved having an animal that would allow itself to be leashed and beaten. Loved being in control of such a weak animal that would roll over for a fucking treat.
They didn't like cats. Cats were strong. They fought back. If you tried to put them on a leash they'd maul your fucking face. They could find their own fucking food whether you felt like feeding them or not. All day they went out on their own, prowling their territory and killing whatever stepped foot into it. When they came back and you pet them it was because they felt like letting you. Cats always fucking triumphed over dogs. Dogs were stupid as all fuck.
Grimmjow really wanted this fucking panther. The idea of that asshole Ulquiorra somehow finding his new location and breaking in only to be mauled by Grimmjow's new friend was exciting as all fuck. And seeing the look on his friends' faces when they came over to be greeted by a fucking panther was something to look forward to.
"Hope you haven't called any fucking authorities," Grimmjow muttered and gave him a side-long glance. "Anyone hurts that fucking cat, the blame's goin' to you. And I'm pretty fucking sure you don't want me coming after you."
salvationdenied: He is still not scared of the man, even as the threats fly loose and easy like punches in a bar brawl. In fact, it would take much more for Grimmjow to frighten Brian like he might frighten others in this town. But monsters don't fear monsters, at least not when they are this close and person, able to look each other in their own beady eyes and see what the other was planning.
He tilts his head to one side to get a better look at him, as if he had misjudged him upon first sight. As if there was something there that he had not seen when Grimm had walked into the bar. There was something besides the arrogant desire for the exotic pet, the desire that Brian imagined had led someone in the coastal Italian city to purchase the illegal pet, drifting across this man's mind. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it was there and lingering still like a settlement of dust in the air after a book's cover had been closed much too hard.
"I haven't called anyone." With that, Brian finished his beer and stood. "Did you bring equipment? I'd appreciate it if my apartment didn't get completely trashed in the process of you getting her out."
He didn't pay, because frankly, despite the fight he had started the week before, this place was still under the gentle hand of Vescovo protection and if they wanted to stay that way, they would swallow their grudges and turn a blind eye to the tabs.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow finished his own beer and set the empty bottle down as he rose to his feet. Any of his close friends would have known he wasn't going to need a damn thing to trap the cat. No equipment, no cage, no fucking dart guns. He knew exactly what he could and could not handle. As stupid as half the population of Italy seemed to think Grimmjow was, he really wasn't. People who survived living on the streets to grow up and make their own fucking money and charge their own damn prices weren't stupid. Grimmjow had a hell of a lot of smarts that he kept to himself.
"Yeah, I brought equipment," Grimmjow replied with a crazy ass grin. He lifted both hands; one was bare and in the other were his keys. "Got my hands and my truck. And they're enough to keep your precious fucking apartment in one piece."
It could fit in the backseat of his truck just fine. The windows were dark enough so people he drove by wouldn't be able to see it. It would be safe there until he got home to his flat where there was more than enough room for two panthers to live. But Grimmjow would be having some kind of fucking word with the cat first to make sure it understood how things were going to be.
salvationdenied: Brian moves from the bar down the street, not waiting for the man to catch on as he sets into an easy stride, his hands sliding into his pockets, fingers still on the cell phone that was on vibrate. When he sees that the man has indeed followed, he speaks, taking in a deep breath as he readies his keys. The walk was not that far; after all, he had suggested this bar because it was close to his house.
"So, are you on a mission to save all lost and homeless big cats in the world?" His tone is joking, slightly, hoping not to misstep here with the man and the feelings he held for his ..cats. He looked forward and ahead as the answer came, seeing his building approaching rapidly.
stradapanthera: "Nah," Grimmjow replied, his keys tucked safely into his pocket again. He hoped the guy lived really fucking close. Anyone who saw a panther following him to his truck might scream bloody fucking murder. And Grimmjow couldn't say he'd stop himself or the panther from ending the screams. "Just this big kitten."
If it were a lion or a tiger, Grimmjow wouldn't be half as fucking concerned. Yeah, still some real big fucking cats. But not like a panther. It was only this lost and homeless big cat that he had an interest in right now. Fucking panther. What the fuck were the odds of that. It was almost like those damn scientists were playing a fucking joke on him.
salvationdenied: Brian has nothing to do with those scientists and he says nothing else as he climbs the stairs to his apartment, the keys coming out from his pocket and into his hand, another deep breath being heaved inwards.
It was easy to see as they entered the building how the big cat had gone in. The buildings in this area of Reggio had been demolished and rebuilt so many times, that their rooftops resembled some sort of Englishman's teeth: jagged and sloping in some areas, pressed up close like lovers that couldn’t get enough of each other. The space between them, between the fire escapes was close enough that even Brian could have jumped from building to building.
He moves through the narrow staircases, through the even more narrow hallway before stopping in front of his door.
He hesitates for a moment, before procuring his keys and sliding them into the lock. And he opens it, bracing himself for a cat that could come jumping.
He braces himself for something that never comes.
The place is silent.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow glanced at the guy with a smirk. The way he was behaving made it seem like he was really fucking scared of the thing. Which was funny, because a lot of assholes didn't know when they should be fucking worried for their life. There didn't look like there was too much to be afraid of yet since nothing came charging out. But cats weren't stupid like dogs. Dogs ran right at you and cats fucking silently hunted you down. If there really was a panther, it was hiding somewhere. And if there wasn't one then Grimmjow was going to kick this asshole through the fucking roof and go back home.
With an impatient sigh, Grimmjow lifted one leg, placed his foot on the guy's ass, and kicked forward to get him into the fucking apartment. If it was enough incentive for the panther to come charging out, then great. If not, then at least it'd make the fucker get out of way so Grimmjow could try and locate where the panther was fucking hiding.
salvationdenied: There is a motion, a flurry of black, behind the kitchen's bar when Brian gets pushed in to the apartment, legs and arms akimbo for a brief second. Brian says nothing, however; no shout of injustice because his peripheral vision catches the motion and he straightens, making himself look bigger and backing up to let Grimm by. This was no longer his issue to deal with.
The cat is there, there is no denying it, and she crouches behind the manmade structure, eyes glinting yellow. She is there, but she considerably less smaller than Brian made her out to be.
The black thing is barely out of cub hood, and would barely weight more than a normal housecat. Its ribs and spine scream abuse and it pants like it can't fully breath in.
The hall from the kitchen to the bedroom is littered, yes, with the corpses of puppies, but none fully eaten, none properly killed.
stradapanthera: The experiments gave Grimmjow more than that transformation--it gave him the ability to hear, see, and smell better, too. And he could smell the stink of the dead dogs and their spilled blood. He could hear the strained way the panther was breathing. Nothing was supposed to be breathing like that when it's fucking healthy.
Grimmjow moved enough so he could get a good look at it and the state it was in. Whatever fucker had owned it before hadn't fucking cared for it the way it needed to be cared for. The damn thing looked like it was starving and that pissed Grimmjow off. Fucking Christ.
After a moment he crouched down not too far from it and extended a hand. He didn't fucking speak cat, but he knew that his scent was similar to one's, if you had the nose to sniff it out.
The panther wasn't the enormous thing the dumbshit had made it seem like. Which would make it easier for Grimmjow to transport anyway; it wasn't too big to be carried.
salvationdenied:
The panther smells him, and doesn't go fleeing, but reacts the same way she might if she caught onto the scent of an older male cat. Cautious and very, very wary of any effort to try kill her.
She is about nine months old, we'll say, a collar suddenly clinking into light as she shifts on her haunches, tail swishing. Yes, she had been a pet, and the people who had owned her were probably trying to feed her meat instead of mixed solids.
The poor thing was starving.
Brian watched this all, frankly, fascinated by the man and his affinity for the feline and not feeling at all sheepish about being freaked out about the panther. She might have been a baby, but she still could slit his throat with a swipe of her paw. So the fear was entirely justified, he told himself.
stradapanthera: Grimmjow's eyes never left the little panther's and he slowly moved closer, not wanting to startle her and make her run and hide elsewhere. Chasing down cats wasn't an interest of his and he'd said he wasn't going to make a mess of the guy's apartment. The guy he was still very much aware of. It felt like he was being watched and Grimmjow didn't particularly care. If the idiot had been that worried about such a small panther then he had to wonder how fucking scared he was of a newborn one. Fucking whatever. The cat was his now.
Grimmjow could see how hesitant the animal was. Like it was afraid he'd rip it to pieces. A cat might have been the only fucking thing in the entire world that he wouldn't destroy. Wouldn't seem fucking right at all.
"C'mere," he muttered. "Can't fucking sit here all day, cat."
The collar on its neck would be removed as soon as Grimmjow got home. Whoever had owned it before wasn't going to have that right any longer. Fuckers couldn't take care of the damn thing they'd tried to tame. He had no intentions of trying to turn it into a pet. It wasn't going to have a fucking collar or a cage or a leash. It would live freely in the house same as he did.
Its meals just might be a little messier.
salvationdenied: She comes out slowly, a real beauty in the light. Her spots dapple black fur, even with the tight and angry show of ribs, she's a beauty. Her paws are also incredibly huge, showing just how large she'll be if she survives to adulthood. She'll top seven feet in length and two hundred pounds. Her teeth will be inches long and numerous.
But for now she is meek, letting go a mew as she moves towards him, sniffing his hand and then pushing her head into his palm like a kitten would, seeking comfort. She pushes towards him, his scent working like magic, because she trusts him and seeks more contact from him.
Brian, in the back of the room, watches this all, eyes skating past the bodies of the puppies and allowing a frown to show. Sure, the thing was cute and the whole spectacle was down right adorable, but he'd have a mess to clean after Grimm left. He sighed, heavily.
stradapanthera: Yeah, damn easy. Grimmjow let his fingers rub behind the panther's ears for a brief moment before he scooped it up into his arms. He could feel the fucking bones beneath that skin and fur and it really pissed him off. Resting the weight of the panther in one arm, he checked the collar with his other hand. The address was right there. Except rather than an address it was like a fucking death warrant. When this little panther was an adult they'd be paying these assholes a visit. Give the girl a taste of human flesh.
Grimmjow liked the smell of the animal. She smelled every bit of a panther, as he imagined he did to other animals or experiments with a heightened sense of smell. It was comforting to him. She smelled different from the kitten he had at home. Different from Rukia. Different from Renji. And the more he thought about how this animal had clearly been treated like a dog, the angrier he grew.
He took his hand from the collar and set it protectively on the panther's head as he turned to that fucking Rudy guy. "Anyone comes lookin' for her, you tell 'em you've never seen a panther in Reggio Calabria."
salvationdenied: Brian’s brows lift up, rising towards his hairline, and he spreads his hands in an "of course" gesture. He has no doubts that the man will be able to take good care of the panther, and has no desire to cross him in any respect. So he nods, and places his hand on the door that is still open, asking no "stupid question", but only reassuring him that if anyone became wise to what had happened, it wouldn't be from Brian.
"She and you were never here. Got it."
He moved, stepping a bit towards Grimm, his head tiled as if to get a better look at the cat. And an odd tone enters his voice as he crosses his arms. "Can I message you now and again to see how she's doing?" He grins. "And what, if anything, you decide to name her?"
Of course, that is not what he really means, at all. The meaning is hiding under that slick veneer of words, but he asks sit anyway, his face all good times and more free drinks.
Grimmjow was a man Brian wanted on his side.
stradapanthera: For a second Grimmjow eyed the other man. Considering he didn't seem to be upset about the death of all those puppies, he highly fucking doubted the guy gave a shit about the panther. But he'd let Grimmjow take her quite willingly and if he wanted his number in return, then it wasn't that big of a deal.
A few text messages now and again from the guy wouldn't be a problem. And giving him his number didn't mean he'd be able to track him down. So fine. Fucking fine. Weird asshole who was afraid of a baby panther could have his damn number to ask him about her in the future.
"Yeah, whatever," he said with a nod and shifted the large cat in his arms. "You got something to take my number down with, or you got some kinda amazing memory in that fucking head of yours?"
salvationdenied: Maybe Brian just liked cats more. He pulls his phone from his pocket and flips it open, taking down the man's phone number when it is given, nodding as he saves it to "Joe".
Yeah, Joe.
Biggest, meanest and scariest Joe he'd ever met and Brian was thankful to whatever twist of fate had brought the cat into his apartment.
First, it had gotten rid of those fucking dogs. And second, well.. he wouldn't have had this experience, would he have?
"Stop by that bar if you ever want to chat. I'm usually there and drinks are always on me."
Again, his hand goes to the door, showing him that he is free to go but most certainly not ushering him out.
stradapanthera: Usually at the bar? Did the guy have no fucking life? Even Grimmjow didn't drink that fucking much. Guess not everyone had a use for themselves in this damn place.
Grimmjow eyed him one last time. Something about the asshole didn't seem right. Couldn't put his finger on it but it was there. If he cared enough he'd try to check into it, but he really didn't give a shit.
Right now Grimmjow needed to worry about figuring out what asshole pet doctor he could find to look the panther over and make sure it wouldn't fucking die in the next few hours. Then he'd need to get to making sure it'd start getting some fucking meat back on those damn bones.
"Yeah, sure," he finally replied. Grimmjow moved through the door with the panther in his arms and glanced back before he went down the steps. "'Least it looks like she's already good at gettin' rid of fucking pests."
That's all a fucking dog was.