psychoshenanigans | Open prompt post.

→ DIVE BAR

Trixie does not look like she belongs in a bar. She's tiny, for starters, standing somewhere under five feet (in large, chunky heels). Her fluffy, bright-green hair stands out in the crowd, but so do the alien heads and flying saucers printed on her extra-long t-shirt. It's unclear if she's wearing shorts under there, but she's definitely wearing thigh-high socks.

Glittery nails, dramatic makeup, and round, white-framed sunglasses perched on top of her head--it's very cute, if you're into image-obsessed eighteen-year-olds. Still, she got a drink at the bar somehow, so maybe she's older than she looks. She's coming your way with an ice-cold Sex On The Beach, pointing at whatever seat is next to you.

"Heeey," her nose crinkles a little as she smiles wide and apologetically, "Is this seat open?"

→ TROUBLE OUTSIDE

It's a late night out in the city, and behind some building, a few big, intimidating guys are crowding in on a very small, very pink-haired girl who sounds like she's trying (unsuccessfully) to talk her way out of it.

"No, I... I mean, I have the money, it's just not... here..."

She takes a step backwards, only to bump back into a garbage can. The guys keep harassing her for details, and she keeps floundering--and no matter how cute she is with her short skirt and matching pink kitty-cat purse, it's probably not going to sway the guy who looks like he's getting ready to deck her.

→ FOR SCIENCE

It turns out that rainbow hair and skeleton tights do absolutely nothing to keep you from being kidnapped and brought to a mysterious underground lab. One way or another, you and some pastel-colored girl are waking up in separate (but adjacent) barred cells. There's an entire laboratory setup on the other side of the room, including several important-looking computers and an obvious operating table. No one else is around, yet.

Trixie immediately tries to reach for the door of her cell... But suddenly recoils, hissing and clutching her burned palm.

"Cock sucking--" Great, the bars are made out of silver. "--mother fucker! Ow!"

It's like a shiny piece of candy is walking towards her. A piece of candy with terrible taste in shirts, and probably has a fake ID, if Bet guess correctly. Not that she gives a fuck. The kid's got guts and confidence, and Bet respects that.

She takes her boots off the seat, and sits up. In contrast to the little sugar plum pixie, Bet is tall, leggy and dressed in biker chic, black leather from top to kick ass boots. She smiles and gestures to the chair with her beer.

"It's open for you."

"Aw...!"

She looks surprised (and flattered), by the answer. She doesn't usually get hit on by other chicks, but hey--she'll take an invitation over a flat "no" any day.

So, she scoots in, looking small and harmless. Normally, she sticks next to strangers in the hopes of getting free drinks and access to their credit card, but this one? She feels kind of funny. Trixie wants to learn if it's a good funny or a bad-news-bears funny.

She sets her phone out, face down, on the table. The case looks like it's covered in plastic whipped-cream and rainbow sprinkles. It's not as important as her new friend, so she leans on her elbows with a cursory look around.

"So you don't secretly have a gaggle of ladyfriends in the bathroom, or whatever?"

Meaning: is she actually here alone?

Christ, she's cute. Bet wonders if she'll taste like cotton candy. Or maybe cherry pie. She leans in, a mirror of the girl, her smirk perpetual, but friendly.

"Do I honestly look like the type to travel with a gaggle of anything, sweetpea?"

Hmm, maybe sherbet, or bubble gum.

"Well," She does slump into her shoulders a little. "I mean, I just thought I should ask... Didn't want to be like, rude..."

Confident as she may be in her appearance, Trixie has never been particularly charismatic. Especially as she starts getting worse and worse vibes from across the table, she's starting to doubt herself, wondering if maybe this was a terrible, awful idea.

She's a veteran scam artist, but a supernatural investigator? Not her gig. She bolsters her courage with a very long sip of her drink through a straw. That gives her just enough time to think of something much better to say:

"I mean, I'm surprised you don't have dudes over here trying to buy you drinks left and right."

Eames is sucking on hard candy, humming a tune. [ooc: sorry, if that doesn't work, it's La Vie en Rose.] He has a feeling he's been incepted by Arthur's musical taste. He's walking down a dark alley, and really, he wonders if he's the kind of person mothers warn their children not to meet in a dark alley.

When he comes out the other side, he notices the group of guys. He glances back when he hears the girl's voice. It sounds like a fight's about to break out, and he's not going to just walk by and let a bunch of jerks gang up on one girl. With a sigh, he spits his candy out and wanders over, his hands at his sides but tensed in a fist.

"Is there a problem here?" he asks as he steps between her and the guy ready to hit her. He's hoping his build will scare them, but if it doesn't, he's willing to get into a fight. If dream sharing in the army did anything, it prepared him to fight with the odds against him.

Edited 2017-02-04 01:02 (UTC)

While not exactly confident, Trixie has wriggled out of situations like this before. She's wracking her brain to try and find an exit, maybe wondering if she could squeeze between the two smaller guys, or get away with something drastic...

She hardly notices the guy who passes by and doubles back, so she gasps in surprise when he suddenly steps in between her and three big stacks of trouble.

"Uh..." Is her eloquent response, mouth hanging open like a fish, "...What?"

Not that Eames was talking to her anyway. The one guy looks kind of affronted. Another steps closer to try and out-intimidate the newcomer.

"Hey, none of your damn business," he threatens.

He doesn't take the chance of turning to look at her, not wanting to get hit from behind, but he chances a quick look over his shoulder.

"These men bothering you?"

He's been drinking, but not enough to really affect him. He's more intimidating in jeans and a t-shirt than his usual garb, so he's glad for that. His eyes catch the movement of one of the guys, his body tensing.

"Why don't you just walk away? Before one of you gets hurt."

"Uh..." Trixie, not of the quickest wit, finally realizes that someone has stepped in to rescue her. With that, she speaks right up, "--Yeah, obviously!"

Okay, so not the best thing to say to your savior. The man doing all the intimidating growls at the threat--but someone else catches his arm and quips some quick line about "it ain't worth it, man", high-tailing it back down the alleyway a second later.

Which leaves two guys, the lesser of which looks startled that it's suddenly two against two. He starts running after the first--ironically yelling at him not to just fucking off and run away in the middle of something--which just leaves one.

...And he's not gonna stay and fight, so he swears that this is such bullshit, and runs off too. This just leaves our two heroes, one of which looks really surprised that this is actually happening.

Funny, the shuttered industrial buildings at the edge of urban scrap-forest are just as good for shady deals as they are for local displaced wildlife to go stalking. Usually, it's just quick drug-deals crossing paths with raccoons and stray cats... but, every once in a while, it's thugs and liars meeting up with real monsters.

He had been following canine scents through the sad, skinny copse of trees, but the sight of a couple big males cornering something small and female immediately pulls the halfmoon away from his original plans. This city is a whole new, foreign, threatening world to him... but he still recognizes an abuse of power when he sees it, and there's no way that he can turn a blind eye.

She's lucky that he can't hear the words she's saying.

The big white beast strides out from between the trees, silent until he lets out a growl that he can only feel rumble in his chest. He's pretty sure it will be loud enough to get his point across, anyway.

"--Jesus Christ!"

Trixie is the one who notices first, nearly jumping back into one of the goons as a massive white monster appears in their midst. Her alarm passes to the other three like wildfire, one of them nearly bolting on the spot.

"The fuck is that?" he says, all three of them edging backwards. The one who'd been doing most of the threatening quickly corrects himself, standing up straight.

"Idiots, it's just a damn dog..."

Though he doesn't sound entirely sure of himself, and the two don't seem at all reassured. The skittery one takes his eyes off of the wolf-dog to look frantically for an exit strategy. Trixie does not stop staring, eyes wide, mouth hanging ungracefully open.

Ah, it's easy to pick out the keystone of the pack, then. While it would be a simple thing to snap at the weak links and make them run, that wouldn't quite make the impression he wants, and it potentially leaves himself open to a cheap shot from the leader.

So, it's the big guy that he focuses on. He doesn't shrink down, fold his tail in like a stray dog. He stands tall--the mane of hair along his spine rankling up to make him seem even taller--and takes a step forward while baring his teeth with intent.

The second growl is more than just a warning from an animal. He sounds angry.

Upon hearing the growl of the beast a second time, the weakest of the bunch suddenly decides that running is worth the risk. He dashes off towards the street without a word, leaving his buddy looking alarmed.

"H-Hey!" It barely takes two seconds for him to scramble away after his fleeing compadre. "Where the hell you goin', Jerry!?"

Which leaves the big one all alone, the odds suddenly turned against him. As tough a guy as he thinks he is, he's only human--and he's not about to risk serious injury just to beat up a girl, no matter how much she owes them.

"Fuck this shit," he says, as if he needed a final word--but he pads off after his friends, looking no braver than either of them in the end.

Which leaves one small girl and one giant dog. She briefly eyes the fleeing men, but she's got a really weird feeling about whatever is suddenly going on here, so it isn't for long.

"Uh..." She's nervous, and hasn't entirely dismissed the idea of running herself.

Edited 2017-02-19 06:21 (UTC)

For good measure, the white monster charges forward after the retreating thugs a little bit, just to make sure they don't decide to come back with sticks and stones. Bristling and snarling low in his throat, he lunges several steps right past the girl, making sure to kick up a bit of gravel and posturing as menacingly as he can. If the thugs had been lupine, they would have recognized the territorial body language he's broadcasting... but simple monstrousness will work just as well.

As soon as they're gone, though? The wolf stands tall and still as he watches them go. Quiet. And when he's sure that they're really out of sight and not coming back, his tail lowers and he casually raises his head to sniff the empty air.

When the wolf finally turns back to Trixie, his ears come forward in a doglike expression of calm and attention. No growling; no posturing. She's fine.

The thugs read the message loud and clear. Trixie can hear a metal door slamming shut a block over--probably an entrance to the club they followed her out of to begin with.

Though she lacks much experience with dogs, even she can tell a calm animal from an aggressive one. As the giant canine looks at her, she feels like she needs to explain herself. Funny, since it's... a dog.

Or is it? She finally shifts back to standing sort of normally, hoisting the strap of her cute pink purse back up onto her shoulder.

"Uh... Thanks, dog." A lot of dog-related things have been going on with her, recently. Is this another one of those people who'd been trying to find her? Or is this just... someone's... very large pet that's gotten loose and conveniently just saved her from getting pummeled into next week?

Well, she guesses it doesn't hurt to cover her bases. She tilts her head a little, still looking really confused and hesitant to move any further. "Are we... cool...?"

The wolf leans back a little bit, just enough of a shift of weight to tell how he's thinking of ambling back into the safety of the scrub-trees nearby. But she's speaking to him, and something about the whole thing (maybe it's how peculiar she looks to begin with) gets him to hesitate.

Instead of leaving, he pauses to sniff the air in her direction. And then, not in reaction at all to whatever she's saying, his ears perk up a little more and he takes one long-legged step closer her.

More sniffing. Kind of getting up in her business about it, actually.

"Um..." Wow is this a big dog. It could probably snap up her whole head in its mouth, or dig a big chunk out of her with its claws. With a giant nose getting way too close for comfort, her weak attempts at politeness aren't enough to keep her from taking another step backwards.

"Ah--" She jumps a little as she bumps up against the garbage bin again. Looking over her shoulder, then looking back, "Okay, okay... Enough with the sniffing..."

Please, let her go home. Just go back into the woods. She'd love that.

Maybe talking to the dog was a bad idea. He only seems to be gaining interest in her, trading sniffing her for straightening up to raise his head nearly eye-to-eye with her instead.

Trixie may not usually be a magnet for the attentions of animals, but this seems to be a significant exception to the rule. In fact, inexplicably, the wolf evens opens his mouth to utter a cordial groaning yowl right in her face. This must really be her lucky day.

If her eyes were wide before, they definitely get wider.

She blinks several times, not sure what to make of this giant beast yowling right in her face. Loud (and startling) as it is, something about all of this finally strikes her as... funny? Not "ha ha" funny, but quirky-funny. She-can't-believe-this-is-happening-funny.

So the corners of her mouth quirk up in a smile, even as she leans back a little further.

"Uh... Yeah, nice to meet you too." Christ, she's still talking to the dog like a crazy person in a back alley. Then again, if someone were to walk in on this scene, could they really blame her? "...are you, uh, with the other wolf guys?"

Unrelated, she does finally bring a hand up, nice and slow. Maybe she's thinking of petting this thing on the head--or shoving its giant head out of the way. Not sure yet.

Well, at least he's a more perceptive and sensitive animal than he seems. She only raises her hand a little bit before he leans his head away from her, retreating into his own space again. He doesn't shy away like a dog expecting to be assaulted, but he does seem like maybe he doesn't like the thought of her hand coming near his face in general.

Maybe he's just not the petting type.

But he doesn't go anywhere beyond that. It doesn't look like the monsterwolf is planning on heading back into the trees anytime soon.

Okay, so no petting. This probably isn't someone's overly friendly off-leash animal--and at this distance, it's obvious that it doesn't have a collar, either.

But now that she isn't getting eaten, and no one else has walked up saying that they're part of a secret organization or something-something-kinfolk-something, she's starting to get a little braver. This wolf just saved her skin, after all, which is pretty awesome, all things considered?

"So... Like, okay, I'm just going to clear this up right now." She taps her extra-tall shoes to stand up straight again, opening her hand towards the dog. "Can you understand what I'm saying, or am I just talking to a dumb dog like a crazy person?"

She seems to be talking to him as though she understands, like maybe a conversation could happen here, and that's enough for him. He's used to only catching a few details at a time when it comes to communication... and body-language is much more important to a wolf than sounds anyway.

So, very possibly in some sort of agreement or acknowledgment, he offers a quiet, doggish grumm sound, and nudges her open hand with his nose.

That doesn't tell her anything. Goddamn it. She's not sure what she was hoping for, but still... Her tiny mouth screws into a small frown as she tries to think of a better way to say what she means, or if it's really worth saying anything else at all.

Maybe not. Probably not. There is a world outside of strange dog-related incidents. She's been trying to avoid them.

"...Well, you've been super-great." Eh, she's been talking to it for this long, it'd feel weird to stop now, "But I need to get going, so I'm just gonna..."

She points towards the street. Her car, a veritable safe haven compared to all of this, is waiting for her just in the parking lot on the other side. She turns enough to start walking in that direction, though her eyes never really leave the wolf.

Oops. Pointing at some sort of destination was probably the worst mistake of all, because the dog seems to get it, and confidently falls in step beside her.

They're going somewhere together now. He's got this.

Trixie falters as her new furry friend walks right along beside her, as if that was the obvious choice here.

She mutters a perplexed, "What the fuck..." but doesn't linger for long. Maybe this is where they're supposed to be going? Or maybe it thinks it has to go with her? This whole encounter is weird as hell, but she trots a path across the street, making sure that no people or cars are going to intercept them along the way.

With her car in sight (just the latest in a series of cheap, technically functional vehicles she's picked up, looking pretty much the same as every other car in the lot), she starts digging around in her purse for her keys.

"I guess you're... one of the nicer boys to ever walk me to my car..."

According to dog-language, the cars make him nervous. His head slings lower as they approach the vehicles, ears laying back and nose twitching to test the air.

Maybe he doesn't trust cars. Or maybe he's just worried that he's going to be taken to the vet.

As she pulls out her jingling set of car keys (which look just as colorful as she does, since each and every one of them has a plastic cover that resembles candy or whipped cream or something), she realizes that there's no way this dog is going to be able to follow her much longer.

Because he'd have to get in the car. And she doesn't really want him in the car. She doesn't need to bring home a giant wolfdog, no matter how willing it is to go with her. So she unlocks the driver's side door, slides in, and starts the engine.

She half-expects the dog will get spooked. Maybe it'll leave of its own volition, and she won't have to have to feel weird about ditching it in the middle of nowhere.

The wolf isn't happy about the revving engine, but it doesn't spook and scuttle away like it probably should. His ears just flatten in disapproval before he steps forward to sort of... peer into the car through the still-open driver-side door.

Is he supposed to get in through here, or...?

"No, you..." Oh my god, she can't believe this. She shakes her head. "You can't come with me."

Unsure of how to tell this dog that it needs to scram and not make her feel bad about this, she points back in a direction that she thinks means "away from the car". It could easily be misconstrued to mean "the backseat", however.

Ah, yes. He's getting good at this communication thing. He responds to the gesture immediately, stepping away from the front door... to stand patiently and obediently by the back door.

He sniffs the handle. And waits.

She looks at the door. She looks at the dog. Her stare extends for a thousand yards.

"Are you seriously asking to get in the car right now?"

She is not opening that door just yet, nor is she giving Irahl any real instructions to work off of.

He can't even hear the question, so all she sees is the big beast continuing to stand there and stare at the door, patiently waiting.

He wags his tail, just a little.

It occurs to her that maybe she's slipped into a bizarre movie universe where cute girls can turn into gigantic wolf monsters, and giant, intelligent dogs show up to help with spirit quests or basketball games or whatever.

She continues to stare for another minute until she--and she can't believe she's doing this--unlocks the other car doors. Still frowning, she slides back out of the car to open the door for her new furry party member.

Where does it think it's going, anyway? "Fine, whatever."

He thinks he's following her, obviously. Because she knows where they should be going. So, it is with this trust that the dog eyes the interior of the car long and hard, and finally steps up in through the door, despite his skepticism.

The seats aren't meant for a two-hundred twenty-some-pound animal to fit easily, however. And neither is the space on the floor between the seats. So, when the giant beast hoists himself into the car... he kind of... doesn't go anywhere that makes sense. At least one foot is on the floor, most of the others are on the seats, and he's having trouble figuring out which way he's supposed to turn...

It isn't until this absurd display that she finally follows her gut, beginning to point and gesture like a proper dog owner.

"No, here," she points up onto the seat, leather, where he won't get white hair all over the place. "Lay down here. Get your legs up, come on."

She points to his legs, then to the seat again. There's probably more room up there anyway, between several articles of clothing, a change of shoes, and a small littering of empty pop cans.

[she might as well as have a small horse teetering around in her backseat, noisily knocking empty cans out onto the pavement outside. or maybe a giant, leggy spider that can't untangle its own limbs. it takes him a long few minutes, but he watches her gestures with a nearly-human amount of attention, and finally gets himself righted.

sitting up on the bench of the seat, he has to stoop a bit to keep from bumping his head on the ceiling, but all of his paws are off the floor... which is good for her floor, but pretty bad for the seats. giant dog claws are pretty bad for leather, it turns out.]

Well, shit. Should she have put a blanket down or something? She doesn't know how to deal with dogs. Hopefully the thing will learn that it can lay down, because this car is really not big enough for a creature of this size.

"Okay. Stay there."

She says this with a small, appropriate, "stay there" gesture, before she closes the door and heads back to the driver's seat. With everyone finally settled in, she buckles her seat belt and shifts gears.

"I guess just, uh, point if we're supposed to be going somewhere. Or whatever."

Having no idea that her companion cannot hear her, she slowly eases onto the gas and starts to pull out of the parking lot. It isn't a long drive to her house, but she's never really driven with an animal in the car before.

It's good that it isn't a long drive... because not only does she have an animal in the car for the first time, this particular animal is also taking a car ride for the very first time. He has no idea how this is supposed to go.

He doesn't get that he is supposed to sit nicely in his own space. It doesn't take much effort to hang his big dog-face between the seats to look at what's going on in her half of the car... and then, as she begins to back out of the parking space, he isn't prepared for the shift in gravity.

Immediately, he tips forward and his front paws slide off the seat. Falling forward dramatically, his head lands hard on the console at her elbow. She really should have been waiting with her camera.

... Oh, boy. This is going to be a long ride.

She spends the first third of the drive telling the dog to sit the hell back down, because otherwise he's just going to keep falling off of things whenever she stops, or accelerates, or turns.

But when that doesn't work so well (and she almost runs a red light), she realizes that she's going to get them both in trouble if she doesn't pay attention to the road. So the dog is left to its own devices as she tries to ignore its comedic wobbling in the background.

She hopes that no one is watching. It must look hilarious--sweet little her in the front seat, with a giant wolf-dog tumbling around in the back.

Eventually, she pulls in to the parking lot of her apartment, turns off the car, and opens the door. Since this guy obviously doesn't have thumbs, she makes her way back to open the back door for him, too.

Open prompt post.

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Dive Bar

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trouble outside!

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