[D5 EA] Stray (Stray’s Townhouse)

[Chantelle Rossette]

“De beas’ jus’ ‘ave to ge’ use’ to it,” Chantelle answered, as if that could sweep away the confusion and discomfort. She spun lightly on her toes, moving in front of Tiffani, casually cutting in and taking up the role of the woman’s next dance partner.

[Marcus Kendall]

This caused Marcus to look at Jack and shrug, looking bit sullen. The sickly tones of bitterness returned, though weaker this time. Sighing, the beast waded out of the way, sitting down on his knees by the wall, his tail wrapping around his knees. Still fuming a little, Marcus turned his attention to Chantelle and Tiffany.

[Tiffani]

When she truly focused her gift of empathy onto Marcus, yes, she could sense his confusion as if they were her own emotions despite knowing their source. As she stood there in front of Chantelle, wrapped in her downy wings, she continued looking at Marcus, her large grey eyes boring into Marcus's cold, bestial eyes and ... after a few moments, she nods.

"Marcus ... Mark? I admit, we just met, what, a day or so ago? And yet it feels like I have known you far longer than that. I can't really explain it. In fact, that feeling extends to all three of you. So ... I feel comfortable around you. Maybe it's kind of a bad habit, I don't know, but I often touch the people I talk to, especially when I'm excited. Whatever you see when you look into a mirror, know that you're also looking at someone who is my friend, okay? I mean, if you'd rather I not touch you just say so and I'll try to ... uh, rein myself in." Then she gives the wolf a devious little smile. "A little."

When Chantelle offers herself as Tiffani's next dance partner, there's a sort of awkward minute as she tries to figure out exactly where to place her hands, given Chantelle's egret shape, but once that is accomplished, she laughs slightly as the two of them begin their little dance. That is until he sees Marcus sitting against the wall - and it triggered something - memories of so many high school dances when she was the one sitting against the wall while her friends paired off and disappeared onto the dance floor. She had had to pretend she was happy for them, but in truth, she had been nothing less than envious.

Thus, Tiffani gently leads Chantelle, in a round-about way, toward where Marcus is sitting. With one hand, she lets go of Chantelle and extends it to Marcus. "No rules against three people dancing together ... is there?"

[Chantelle Rossette]

“‘E’s go’ no reason to boude, by my recall, ‘e’s dance’ wit me twice,” but the tension was still flavouring the air, sour and unpleasant, like burnt coffee. Chantelle folded her arms, little tendrils of peppery annoyance coiling from her; she knew that Marcus didn’t object to touch, he nearly craved it, the problem was elsewhere. “Nigh’ before las’, I introduce you, non? You rememba wha’ ‘appen?” she asked Tiffani.

Moving to Marcus, she drew her long, manicured nails through the rough fur between the beast’s shoulder blades, a little awkwardly, given his height. She combed with her fingers, finding a piece of lichen and plucking it from the fur. She wasn’t about to drop it on the floor, they hadn’t even signed the agreement yet, so she tucked it in her pocket, hoping that reminding Marcus of the evening she spent grooming him might help soothe him, remind him he belonged, that he was wanted.

[Marcus Kendall]

"Marcus ... Mark? I admit, we just met, what, a day or so ago? And yet it feels like I have known you far longer than that. I can't really explain it. In fact, that feeling extends to all three of you. So ... I feel comfortable around you. Maybe it's kind of a bad habit, I don't know, but I often touch the people I talk to, especially when I'm excited. Whatever you see when you look into a mirror, know that you're also looking at someone who is my friend, okay? I mean, if you'd rather I not touch you just say so and I'll try to ... uh, rein myself in." Then she gives the wolf a devious little smile. "A little."

[snip]

Thus, Tiffani gently leads Chantelle, in a round-about way, toward where Marcus is sitting. With one hand, she lets go of Chantelle and extends it to Marcus. "No rules against three people dancing together ... is there?"

"Eh." the beast shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know about that." There was no malice nor mischief in his voice. "People are people." he added somewhat enigmatically. "You can touch me if you want, I guess. Might want to wash your hands later. Hard to keep all this clean." Marcus grabbed the back of his forearm with his claws, pulling off a tuft of fur and lichen. "Mirrors, eh." for a moment there was a pained look in his pale blue eyes. "Something like that, I guess." Lolling his tongue out, the beast chuckled, his tone as putrid as his breath.

“‘E’s go’ no reason to boude, by my recall, ‘e’s dance’ wit me twice,” but the tension was still flavouring the air, sour and unpleasant, like burnt coffee. Chantelle folded her arms, little tendrils of peppery annoyance coiling from her; she knew that Marcus didn’t object to touch, he nearly craved it, the problem was elsewhere. “Nigh’ before las’, I introduce you, non? You rememba wha’ ‘appen?” she asked Tiffani.

Moving to Marcus, she drew her long, manicured nails through the rough fur between the beast’s shoulder blades, a little awkwardly, given his height. She combed with her fingers, finding a piece of lichen and plucking it from the fur. She wasn’t about to drop it on the floor, they hadn’t even signed the agreement yet, so she tucked it in her pocket, hoping that reminding Marcus of the evening she spent grooming him might help soothe him, remind him he belonged, that he was wanted.

When Chantelle touched him, he leaned into the touch ever so slightly. The sourness was alleviated, thought still clung to his fur like the ever-present lichen. "Not pouting, Chantelle. Just sitting here." Marcus shrugged, turning to look at her with his cold eyes. "It's ok."

[Tiffani]

“Nigh’ before las’, I introduce you, non? You rememba wha’ ‘appen?” she asked Tiffani.

Tiffani takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, perhaps even a bit dramatically. Obviously no one was going to be dancing again any time soon, so she paces in a little circle before coming to a stop in the same place she had been before.

"How could I forget? I messed that up ... just like I apparently messed this up. What is it you Americans say about baseball?" Again she thinks for a moment. "Oh, right ... yes. It looks like I'm batting a thousand given that I've messed up two days in a row."

Moving to Marcus, she drew her long, manicured nails through the rough fur between the beast’s shoulder blades, a little awkwardly, given his height. She combed with her fingers, finding a piece of lichen and plucking it from the fur. She wasn’t about to drop it on the floor, they hadn’t even signed the agreement yet, so she tucked it in her pocket, hoping that reminding Marcus of the evening she spent grooming him might help soothe him, remind him he belonged, that he was wanted.

She watched as Chantelle ran her fingers through Marcus's fur and she felt that mysterious connection the two of them had. She rubs at one of her eyes in a tired sort of way and says after a time, "Maybe I don't really fit in here." Her eyes slide back and forth between Marcus and Jack then back again. "I'm supposed to be the counselor and yet all I do is muck everything up - make things worse. Thing is, I'm not trying to ... I'm just being, well, me."

Truth was, she had no idea how to be a 50 year-old teenager. As a result, she was always at war with herself.

"Anyway, when I asked that question about love - it was some kind of ... I dunnae ... it was a compulsion. Like I just had to say it. I never felt anything like that before. But ... whatever. I'll just keep my mouth shut and my hands to myself from now on."

[Marcus Kendall]

"Yeah, though you kinda want to bat a thousand." Marcus growled, sounding mostly like his usual self. "You bat a thousand if you hit every damn ball." he explained, after his player had googled this tidbit up. Unfortunately, he didn't have any particular insight in Tiffany's mistakes, lacking the mental acumen to process anything beyond his own frustration.

Hearing what she asked next, Marcus braced his paw on his knee and stoop up, his frame dwarfing that of Tiffany and Chantelle. "You belong here as much as anyone does. That's the ju-ju." the beast nodded, his large snout bobbing in the air. "You are in. There's no out. I mean, I guess there is, but it's ugly. We family now. And sometime family's fucked up. But you still stick together like sticker to a bumper."

[Tiffani]

Tiffani stared up at Marcus with a steady gaze, unblinking, unflinching. It didn't seem to matter to her that the wolf could theoretically slice her right in half with one swipe of his claws. It actually appeared that this ghost of a girl was going to stare down a massive wolf.

But then she burst out in another bout of giggling. She almost - almost - reached out and touched Marcus again but decided it was best to err on the side of caution.

Once she gained control of herself, though, she finally explained what so tickled her funny bone. "Like a sticker to a bumper?" Saying it only made her start with the giggling all over again.

"Oh Marcus ... you have an uncanny way with words. That's a simile I've never heard before. And no, I'm not making fun of you. It just took me by surprise, is all. Not to worry."

[Chantelle Rossette]

“You swore de oath,” Chantelle added, “de Wyrd know you wit us, or else de gree gree don’ wor’. Stop worryin’ abou’ messin’ up, you ova tinking everyting. You caugh’ Marcus by surprise,” she folded her wings over her chest again, that peppery smell was back, “you sorry, ‘e sorry; dere no nee’ fo’ de big bahbins an’ complicate’ explanations.” She looked from Tiffani to Marcus and back, “nex’ time, you say sorry,” she indicated to Tiffani, “an’ you say sorry,” she pointed to Marcus, “and if ‘e wan’ an explanation, ‘e ca’ ax fo’ one.”

“Mais,” she huffed good naturedly, “le’s sign dis rental agreemen’ before someone bea’ us to it.”

[Marcus Kendall]

"Uh." was all Marcus had to say, for his brains were working really, really hard to sort out the mess in before his eyes. "Dunno, I just speak my mind." the beast shrugged, bit baffled with Tiffany's reaction. He had tried to reassure her, and now she was laughing. Nodding, Marcus decided that the time in Arcadia had done to her mind what it had done to his body. There was no other explanation. Well, chances are that there were, just that Marcus wasn't the sharpest knife of the drawer. He was more a tenderizer. "Stick together." the beast smacked his paws together before Tiffani's eyes, the gust of air tossing few of her stray hair around.

Then Chantelle stepped in - and Marcus gave her wide berth, his snout wiggling as he tried to make sense of the situation. When the egret mentioned the oath, he nodded enthusiastically, his ears flopping up and down. "Uh, someone might have to sign for me." Marcus expressed his arm, wiggling his crooked digits that ended in long claws.