genessia | Voice

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[Same story different cover, is what he's already deduced.

The piecing together of what's happened, again, is the only thing keeping this feed from being interspaced with gunfire.

You should all be thankful.

As it is, he's deeply annoyed, but not terrified nor confused as he pointedly ignores a child staring directly at him, unblinking, as their ice cream cone melts into their hand.

There's a reason he's not turning the video feed on, he knows this stupid game]

I've already collected the requisite information from that filthy cave and the supplied pamphlets, endeavor not to tell me anything that isn't already contained within either of these.

I've really only a small collection of questions, starting with: Does the name Holli Would strike anyone as familiar, and ending with a request for employment.

I'd consider them both of equal importance.

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Tannusen didn't really make a habit of hanging out near the Bay, as a general rule, but sometimes he found himself in that area and... really, who didn't sometimes go a-lookin' just in case someone interesting popped up?

...This guy matched 'interesting', alright.

After a moment of staring -- was this another Pooka? No. Kenning said no... and no Glamour. After that moment, Tannusen padded closer, forgetting in his distraction that he'd been out and about in his other shape.

...No, he was pretty certain he was looking at an ordinary human who for some reason had a full-blown chimerical Seeming. That was a first. Even Hastur had only been a flash here and there on Cassian.

Edited 2017-07-25 17:39 (UTC)

He was still there, fussing with the phone, checking it for features because after Ink City? Yes he knew they had that shit. He'd grown somewhat fond of the GPS system, a lot nicer than a goddamn compass.

Just as he was pulling up the map section... he looked up-

The fuck is this.

The fuck is that.

Here was the rub, Mordecai, in any universe, was yet to meet a feral cat bigger than... well bigger than a normal housecat. Seeing something twice his size with a familiar build to the face padding towards him on all fours was about the same as a human looking up to see a huge fuck off muscle bound other human trotting towards them, naked and on all fours.

It's alarming, to say the least, and he couldn't help the jerky motion towards the hidden holster at his hip, a sneer bearing a mouthful of sharp teeth directed at the tiger.

WHAT.

That would be pretty fucking weird, though probably nothing Tannusen hadn't seen before. Look, when you existed in everyone's daydreams, nightmares, and LSD trips, filled with everyone's imaginary friends and boogeymen, you saw a lot of shit.

Tannusen didn't realize he was looking at someone who... no, actually looked like that to everyone else and not just to the Faerie, but he knew a grab for a gun when he saw one.

Shitfuck.

Instinct was a real son of a bitch, especially in this form. Especially in light of the abrupt end to his last life, tiger-form Tannusen did not appreciate having guns drawn on him. Fight or flight instantly kicked in.

Which is exactly how Mordecai got a six hundred pound white bengal tiger leaping at his face. Whoops!

WHOOPS

Well this is just the bad choice hoedown of the year, isn't it? Mordecai can't help the panicked slew of curses in English and German as he fires off two rounds from the CZ pistol, which, in hindsight, he'd see as a very, very stupid thing.

This beast was the size of a bear, and while he'd never personally shot a bear, heaven knew he'd heard enough about how hard it was to kill a bear.

So of course in hindsight, it shouldn't have been a surprise to know those bullets might not have done much, a bit like firing paper clips at a sumo wrestler.

He would make an attempt to leap back from the cat, but...

Well good luck with that, Mordecai.

Yeah, sorry buddy this wasn't a kid playing hopscotch, here. Without even bringing magic into it, Tannusen could leap onto the head of an elephant if suitably motivated. He could cross a horizontal distance at a horrifying pace, and having a bullet sink in past his pelt only made him dial it up.

Fight or flight was on, fucker.

Let's see if he nails that landing.

Skittering back, bottle brush tail and claws and teeth, none of that mattered when your genetic ancestor was busily attempting to smash your entire fucking face into the pavement.

One of them here was a 900+ pound collection of pure muscle and several inch long teeth and claws.

One of them embezzles money for fun.

Gee, which wi-

He takes that fucking hit, he takes it and he doesn't like it, and as he goes to hit the fucking ground, he rather hopes he'll still have you know, a face, when this is all done.

Shit.

Luckily for Modecai, Tannusen usually maintains a pretty rigid control over his predatory side, the odd flinch into action like this excepted. So when the guy hits the pavement, Tannusen stops himself from chomping through the back of his neck -- just barely. Those huge teeth do, in fact, snap together just a few inches from their original target.

He's still not happy about it, though. Planting a dinner-plate sized paw on the guy's back and growling loud enough to rattle bones, tail lashing and ears flat back. Where is that fucking gun--

Edited 2017-07-25 18:11 (UTC)

That makes the two of them unhappy. He'd go for a switch blade next, but since he's positive he's dealing with a wild animal and not, you know, a rational creature, he opts to stay motionless instead.

His hand is still clutching the pistol though, his fingers wrapped tightly around it in a death grip.

Fuck, this was not how he pictured himself dying.

[Dray goes for video because typing is hard and more so with claws, and using voice only is not as fun as showing off. He's wearing a flower in his hair, near his left ear, and looking at the post with curiosity.]

There's a place in Genessia city that could answer both of your questions. The employment building might know if you friend came by there to ask for a job, and you can find a suitable one for you there.

Filthy? Damp, certainly. Eerie, perhaps. Unclean? You're the first I've heard to doubt its sanitation.

Oh, yes, in California? [Phonetically it sounds the same] Purveyor of much of my country's entertainment. And its filth. Tragic that those two go together so often.

Hmm, I might employ you if you've some wisdom to impart. What occupation occupied you before arriving?

[Okay flower or no flower, there's the first normal face he has seen in a long time. He's not relieved enough to turn on the camera, but it's close]

She's not my friend.

Employment building. Excellent. Does it go by any specific name or would that be its soul moniker?

Filthy, and encouragages mold and bacterial growth.

No, certainly not, she's a woman and I'd like to know if she's present so that I can plan my schedule in such a manner that I never encounter her.

I'm an accountant.

Hah, the mold must be in deep despair, for such has been 'encouraged' fruitlessly for years.

Ah, not to worry. If she's passed by it's been subtly; I'd remember someone with a name as silly as that.

Speaking of employment and names, what's yours? I may have something you can do, if you don't mind a crowd not as fussy as you're probably used to.

I don't think the cave is all bad. I wouldn't build a summer home there but it's rather lovely in it's design.

[Seth thought it was pretty.]

And no, the name doesn't found familiar. If you think they are here then check your phone. The name should be listed.

I don't like my clothes getting wet.

[He can, and will, find a reason to complain about anything, thanks]

I hope you're correct.

Mordecai Heller. As long as they're not intolerable, I'm sure I can manage.

I hate it.

Which particular function in the phone holds the names-

Ah, never mind here it is. Alphabetical, I'd hope.

Rare is the man who does. One moment...

[It's possible he's actually talking to one of his employers and helping to advance the cause of his fellow man. It's far more likely he's looking up a surname. A few minutes later.]

Oh, that makes sense! Unrelated, are you Jewish? At any rate, I might be able to get something. I work part-time for an escort service--the genial kind--in Everglade, the worst city in the world. The scenery's dismal, but the company, in both senses of the word, make up for it. We've been handling the financial side...so-so. But someone who really knew numbers might be a boon. Interested?

I am.

[People usually picked up on that one way or another, he's found]

Escort- Ah. Frankly any way you tend to look at an escort would imply they're rather genial. It doesn't really matter what the business is, I have no issue with keeping books and managing finances.

I may as well set up a general service in the area.

Tannusen isn't likely to peel that out of his grip without breaking some fingers; this form isn't exactly delicate. He'll settle for not having to worry about more bullets digging themselves into him a different way, then; oakenshield.

Here comes an Enchantment, roiling through the stranger's senses. A moment later, the paw on his back lifts away and then Tannusen in his Fae form is straightening up, peeling the chainmail coat out of the way to take a gander at the bleeding wound in his upper arm. As unconcerned as could be about the still-armed mortal who might attempt round two.

"Well, that was rude."

Not really, and he knows it, but he doesn't care. Most people would react similarly to a giant bengal tiger wandering their way... but this stranger isn't a people, to the tiger. So, Tannusen doesn't feel the urge to be fair in his assessment of the situation.

Also, he's pretty sure that bullet's stuck in there. The bleeding is pretty intense, as one would expect. No exit wound. Yep, he's got a fishing expedition to go on before he can heal this up with Glamour, lest he seal the wound up around the smushed-up bullet. Something he's had to do before, in a pinch, and have it removed later... but not something he'll do if he doesn't have to.

And he can't teleport it out because he doesn't know where it is, yet...

No and welcome centre.

[Didn't need to go into detail did he about that.]

But in longer terms welcome centre has plenty of information if you are curious about certain things.

Depends on what kind of employment you are looking for.

The fuck was that.

His eyes screw shut, and when he opens them again-

Well he squints pretty hard. Yeah this is about on par with magically being teleported to Alaska by someone rolling down a backdrop, yeah. His fingers tighten on the gun for a moment, before he heaves a long suffering sigh.

Okay no, don't waste bullets, he had no idea how hard or easy it was to get the fuckers here.

Just... don't look at it all too long.

Good plan.

Go team.

Also, the thing is talking, and when he feels the paw pull off his back and hears it speak, first of all he's surprised to know it can, and as he tur-

Well fuck of fucking course, that look of both flat annoyance and offense is taking over, that fluffed out tail twitching madly.

"About as rude as getting jumped on by a giant, wouldn't you agree?"

Understood.

At this point, I'd really only care to know if there are any accounting agencies hiring, since this place does seem to require, after kidnapping me, contributing to the economy.

I worked as an accountant for several businesses back at home, I would like to continue along those lines here.

"You were going for a gun. My fight or flight is pretty much stuck on 'eat the fucker'."

Look, he's too distracted by hosting a bullet right now to be super polished about describing the whole thing. He's got his coat down off that shoulder and has already torn the sleeve of the 'dress shirt' around the wound for better access. He peels one glove off, and starts probing at the wound with the tip of his pinky. If he can just find the bullet...

It can't have gotten far. He's far bigger in tiger form than Fae, so wherever it went when he shifted shape, it can't be that deep.

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