Pound Town and the Pupperino

[Malkavia]

Shimmerlace glared around the room. This was—Well. Fuck. She'd spent many hours trying to imagine the beast's abode, which she had assumed would be as fearsome and imaginative as he.

This. This. It was something from a novel she'd read, alright, except that had been the hideout for a serial killer-assassin who transported bodies in plastic garbage bags.

...Such thoughts, however, were but short reprieve from the Beast himself, who lumbered over to the Feychild. As he lowered himself, she glanced at her feet.

"Eh—"

Tongue-tied. God. When was the last time she was really and truly at a loss for words? Eleanor, probably. Back then, she'd been asking the salted veteran to become her mentor, certain that of course a woman like that was sure to turn down the then-new lioness.

She bit her bottom lip, hard, and forced herself to look up at the hulking man in front of her. Big breath. Smile. She folded her hands behind her back, tapping the toe of her boot against the carpet. Somewhere upstairs, a neighbor was taking a bath, and the sound of their water coursing through the pipes rumbled in the walls.

Well—who are you, shimbo?

"...Well, I'm certainly not a fuckin' fan. Fans are...cunts. Self-satisfied little pricks without a damn clue what it's like doing what we do."

She cleared her throat. The longer she stood there, staring down the wolf, while he just glared and did not tear her throat out roots and all, the more confidence piped its way back into her veins.

"—Gonna be real. I'm actually kinda hurt you don't know me. But the name's Shimmerlace Snuggleblossom, Feychild of the Thunderhalls, and I'm I guess what you'd call one of your peers at LAW."

"Annnnd..." she continued her sentence quickly, before he could jump in with a response. She broke the steady eye-contact she'd been holding and chanced the kind of awkward half-smile she'd been more used to giving in school than as part of her rollicking Fey existence. "By the by, I could really use a toilet, if you don't mind continuing this conversation while I—..."

[Lycanstar]

Shimmerlace... Snuggleblossom.

Lycan's expression melted into an almost embarrassed looking sulk. Was She for real? And calling Herself a "Peer"? Did She think that She in any way matched the prestige and strength of somebody like Lycanstar?

As She awkwardly smiled underneath Him, Lycan wondered if He was too conspicuous living in a cramped alley in this run down apartment. Should He have actually lived in a cave? Maybe then He wouldn't have had to deal with... Whatever this is supposed to be. Although eventually the more furious and brooding look of the beast subsided as He sighed loudly before dismounting the Fey and getting back up to His feet proper.

"Over there."

Showing the most minuscule amount of courtesy, Lycan pointed to the only other room in the apartment where the toilet was already visible through the open door. Similar to the rest of the apartment; it certainly looked worse for wear and was not ideal for... somebody like Her. But Lycan didn't care as He turned His back completely from Her and walked over to the rug on the floor to seat Himself and face the tv.

Not a fan huh? Speaks like She knows Her way around a ring. Hardly would imagine She does just by looking at Her though but... Well guess I've seen worse.

Lycan appeared to space out as He took a moment to Himself to analyze the bizarre situation, staring rather blankly at the reflection of Himself in the tv screen; almost politely keeping His back turned until Shimm finished with whatever She needed to do.

[Malkavia]

Her heart was still racing, but they were on the downhill glide now. Lycan pushed away from the Feychild and settled himself on the carpet. She wanted to see it as a wolf curling up on its bloodied hearth, but she couldn't resist the idea of a robot coldly powering down among the dust of abandoned station.

She realized she was staring.

"Er...Right, thanks—"

And she hopped off to the bathroom. Clunk. The door shut. She took a deep breath, turned on the sink—and then smacked repeatedly both her clenched hands into her forehead, grinding her teeth as she bent over in the tiny lavatory.

STUPID STUPID STUPID!!

The fuck was that shit?! What, he lifts your fuckin' feet off the ground for five God damn seconds and you're going to go all wide-eyed prey, are you, fuckface? Noooooodle-legs and whimpering voice and all? She heard her own stuttering and wanted to kick the door, except he'd hear that...and the wood looked so cheap and thin she worried she might put a hole in it.

Big breath, Shim. She sucked it in, growling low at the bottom of her throat, formed a two-handed pistol with her hands, and pressed them to her lips. In came the breath—out went the tension. She stewed and let the memory of his...jaws settle over her.

Let's be fair—that was what got her, yeah? The sight of that huge, wet throat, whose teeth were as big as her thumb. The sight made you feel like he could really devour you, a feeling that lingered in her heart and made her bite her tongue.

"No excuses," she muttered to herself. Respect is earned. If he was a terrible and indomitable beast, then she'd have to be an airy, unreachable fey. Yes? Yes.

She flushed the toilet (for show). Then she slammed off the sink. She opened the door smiling.

Lycan was still sitting in the middle of the room. Unbidden, she imagined an antennae rising from between his ears. She shook that off with a flick of her head and, smiling with the look of one who had a secret, slid over to her host, rolling onto her back so she sprawled out next to him, peering up. From that vantage point, Lycan was distant and dark. She licked her lips, feeling out her words with unusual care.

"Yoooou know you're special, right?" As the pause dragged out, Shimmerlace rocked her knees back and forth. Her eyes she kept locked on Lycan—uncomfortably locked. Slightly lidded but unwavering. "Touched with the kinda deep, unlearnable magic most wrestlers would give their left nut for." She splayed, then knocked her knees together, wider each time, until finally her thigh brushed his side. She pretended not to feel the thrill of fear that brush against his body sent through her ribs.

[Lycanstar]

The whole time the sink was running Lycan Himself could only think about ways to get Her out of His apartment in the most non-threatening way possible. How was He supposed to react? How was He supposed to do ANYTHING? Had He ever even had another human being ever enter this apartment? All of this was way beyond the isolated beasts social capabilities and yet here He was, in a environment familiar to Him yet completely out of His own element on how this was supposed to go.

The tap turned off and the toilet flushed, Lycan continued to blankly stare at the darkness of the tv while waiting to see the reflection of Shimmerlace coming from behind Him. The thought She was there to attack Him was still slightly present in the back of His mind but... Well He didn't know what to think. Maybe threaten Her a little? Could He scare Her off easily? It wasn't something He really wanted to have to do but if He had to then- "Yoooou know you're special, right?"

Lycans head turned down to see Shimmerlace laying on Her back next to Him, locked eyes peering right through what felt like the beasts very soul. The eyes that returned Her gaze were wide open with a confused looking shock; what the fuck was She doing?? "Touched with the kinda deep, unlearnable magic most wrestlers would give their left nut for." ...WHAT?!

As Her thigh brushed Lycan's side, He remained petrified in place as the... confused Fey continued Her... Whatever She was doing. He couldn't make head or tails of it, was She coming on to Him? Was this some sort of game to Her? "...Are you feeling right?" His brow furrowed as a genuine concern etched across His face, finally replacing the annoyed grimace He had held since She had first entered His field of view. He simply kept staring, half out of concern and half out of shock that She was feeling brave enough to get this close to Him~ To touch Him and...

"..A-alright, listen Fey. I don't know what the hell your game is here; what is it that you want exactly?"

[Malkavia]

Awwwh, he called her Fey! And they were starting to break into real words, beyond the well-worn classics "get the" and "fuck out."

Shimmerlace smiled and glanced at the ceiling. The Feychild hummed, made a motion with her hand like she was stirring a sideways cup of coffee midair, then snapped her fingers. Pop! And there was her silver-sided e-cig, nestled between her fore and middle fingers. She took a long drag, lighting the tip of the device blue, then exhaled a cloud of pink fog towards The Beast's ceiling.

"Repeat this and I'll call you a liar," she said, finally, as her eyes drifted from the ceiling back to the wolf's glittering black eyes. "But I find mooooooost wrestlers round these parts a wee bit... dry."

She whispered that last word with a significant arch of her eyebrows, and there was apology in her smile. She shrugged. "They work hard, do their best for ungrateful creeps in the seat. But eh. Boring is boring I'm afraid. But you, friend-o. YOU, oh fanged beast whose maw drips with the blood of your opposition~"

She took another drag on her cig, then grinned and blew the smoke between her teeth with a hiss. She crossed her legs and let her boot swing up and down through the air.

"When I watched you dismantle, destroy, fuckin' ravage Miss Alice—I was glued snout to screen. That kinda...ferocity? That's magic. Kinda stuff that feeds the soul. Innnnnnnspirational."

"Mmmm, but—" Shimmerlace pointed a finger-pistol at Lycan's head. Her boots dropped to the floor, and her smile faded. "Haven't answered your question, have I? A'ight, well. I'm here to answer a question of my own. Ssssspecifically—why..." Her eyes narrowed as she emphasized every word with a gesture from the finger-pistol-grasping-e-cig hand. "The FUCK...aren't you booked for SHIT this week? Or next week? Or fuckin'...ever?"

[Lycanstar]

"But I find mooooooost wrestlers round these parts a wee bit... dry."

As Shimmer went on describe Lycan's most significant match; a tinge of embarrassment could be seen in Lycan's expression; turning away as She went even further into detail. Was that match something He was particularly proud of? Well, no but He couldn't deny what it had meant to Him in the moment. The pure, raw control He had over that whole encounter was something He would never forget... even if He admitted things got carried away at a certain point. While He could mentally blame every bit of it on LAW management for putting that show together, it all came down to His actions in the ring and the result of those actions- that being, a paltry excuse of "Nothing for you" for His indefinite future.

Maybe if He had held back or calmed down a little things would be different- He could be fighting more serious competitors, rising the ranks, maybe even get a chance at the kings and queens title... But instead fate led Him here, with this Fey being the only person from LAW that had anything remotely positive to say about His actions in the ring that night. Comforting? Well, hardly considering the clearly unstable nature of Her even thinking that match was something worthy of praise.

"why... The FUCK...aren't you booked for SHIT this week? Or next week? Or fuckin'...ever?"

Lycan looked down the barrel of Her finger-gun with a blank stare for a few silent seconds, the thoughts of all this being dug up again creating a whirlwind of conflicting ideas in His head. "It's complicated."

Staring away from Her at the blank TV once more, Lycan looked at His own reflection for a short while. "Actually, it's really not. Look at me, look at what I've done. I'm a monster. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe you finding something to like in what I did in my debut makes you one too."

Lycan cricked His jaw, a loud pop being heard as His eyes closed halfway and He rubbed the bottom of His maw, clicking it back in and scratching His tooth in an act of uncaring maintenance for the most vicious weapon He possessed. "Taking inspiration from me is a mistake Fey; you'd be better off taking running lessons from a snail." Lycan looked back down at Shimmerlace, His expression relaxing to a neutral stare as the concerned and annoyed look had finally faded. "Now, can I show you the door?"