- Character: Frankie
- 1 year, 9 months ago
Frankie says, "i'll watch yall kiss a little first before i join in"
Setting: Formidable figures of the Gransean underworld make their appearance.
Frankie says, "i'll watch yall kiss a little first before i join in"
Dusk has settled on Zerhem like a threadbare cloak. The last of the evening's shoppers filter from the market as peace descends on Granse's largest city, the fading light extending the shadows cast by the empty stalls.
The situation becomes even more confusing when the 'dog' suddenly rears up on its hind legs, looking up at the young woman where she and it are loitering in front of one of the stalls at the outermost fringes of the market, either just closed or in the process of closing. From somewhere near them, a deep, heavily accented voice rumbles, "Sugar pumpkin, I don't know if that's a good idea..."
Ivo is a man of science. Graduate of the Lyceum, the foremost college of magic and engineering in the world, and so necessarily a noble of Cosmopolis, a city sealed for over a hundred years, he is one of the first Cosmopolitans to venture forth from its borders in living memory. His courage in the name of curiosity is not to be discounted. Thus, it is only fitting that when presented with such an intriguing matter, he should approach, and find out who is kissing whom.
The young girl claps her hands together before rubbing them. Upon the stall's counter sit a group of hissing cockroaches, all whom appear to be nothing other than what they appear to be. The roaches in question take turns hissing all while she nods thoughtfully. When their little chorus is over, she casts her father, the spectacularly dressed capybara beside her, a glance.
"Yeah, whatta you, some kind of wise guy?"
"Well, I--"
Frankie nods in agreement as her father makes very real threats toward the unsuspecting young man. As he speaks of Jimmy the Rat and the rat, Jimmy, she too remembers those precious memories as a family. They ate spaghetti both those nights! It was some pretty good spaghetti. . . She sighs wistfully and returns to the moment as Ivo continues to fumble over his words. Wait, is her looking her over? Up AND down? She glances to the roaches for confirmation and they stare back at her with only regret, regret that he was in fact just looking her both up and down! Mind Frankie weighs her options on the grand cosmic scale of her thought palace; most of said options involve variations of cool kicks she learned from the martial arts naked mole rat her father hired to train her. One also involved continuing to verbally bully this man for his transgressions and another one involved. . . Asking him about the wonders of beastkin! Mind Frankie blinks away in a flash and Real Frankie stares at Ivo with reckless abandon.
Clearly still incensed, the capybara reaches into his jacket and produces, using his tiny capybara hands(????), a long, thin device, almost like a wand except for the boxy protrustion at one end. It is this end which he sticks into his mouth and sucks at for a long moment, runes and lights flashing on the device as he does so.
Ivo, faced with his greatest predicament yet, apparently rolls a nat 20 on the d20 of life. He endeavors to match Frankie's enthusiasm in his responses to her inquisition, lest he meet Fibby's fate.
Frankie visibly vibrates in place, her mind figuratively sucking up every word Ivo lets rip about his beastkin friends through the straw of her determination to learn. The toilet information has been some of the hardest to gather. . . But perhaps not for long! After all, if you want to truly know something, you need to know everything. Every. Thing. She begins to nod triumphantly. Yes, all according to keikaku. . . Mind Frankie holds the list above her head like a prized religious text. One of the many gleaming sentences read, 'Bathroom habits of the transformed!' Now she's one step closer.
In the background, the Capo has fallen asleep.
"Ohhh!"
Ivo, his own cloak rippling in the crisp air, is taking a stroll before returning to the inn where his party has gathered. The young man runs a hand through his dark hair, only tousling it further, his gaze distracted, lost in thought. He and his friends will soon be returning to the forest to the northwest where they ventured last, and he is preoccupied with the question of what they will find within the abandoned druidic shrine they discovered there.
'I'll watch y'all kiss a little first before I join in.'
"Hm?"
Thus, he is not sure if he has overheard this passing comment correctly. If his sharply raised eyebrows and sudden turn is any indication, however, he is interested by it. Ivo squints into the shadows. Though the setting sun is sufficient to light his path, the other side of the street is somewhat obscured. Is that a young woman... walking a dog? To whom was she speaking? Is there someone else there? Is she... holding something?
A book, maybe?
A beat later, the 'dog' turns its head to glance across the street at the passing Ivo... and, as it turns out, it's not a dog at all. It appears to be... some kind of rodent, maybe? And, apparently, something about the passing Ivo has caught its attention, as its gaze remains fixed on him for several long seconds.
As it happens, this gives Ivo the perfect opportunity to realize that what he thought was some sort of dog blanket or coat is, in fact, a double breasted suit jacket, complete with a dark red tie around the rodent's neck, which it straightens absent-mindedly as it watches Ivo.
But the big rat in a suit is interesting too.
"How dapper!" he exclaims as he audaciously approaches. "I could certainly stand to learn a tip or two on how to dress from this furry fellow." His tone is gamely cheerful, a bit like the way that adults talk to children when they want to give the impression that they're taking said children seriously. "Did I hear something about... kissing...?"
As he asks this not at all sketchy question, he's glancing around for the source of that deep voice. And, you know. Whoever may or may not be kissing.
"They're my tutors! How else will I learn to hiss as well as possible? None of the cats were open to my offer. . ." Frankie briefly leans sideways at her father. "Are you sure this isn't just your racism coming up again? I know the capybaras and hissing cockroaches have some old beef from the days gone but it's been a while, you know. . ."
Frankie straightens up and is about to let rip the hiss of a century at the awaiting roaches when a strange man saunters up. She jumps a little at his exclamation toward her father, but her expression immediately turns incredulous at his question about kissing.
In the theatre of Frankie's mind, Frankie's eyes swirl cartoonishly in disbelief. This guy! This can't be real! Shouldn't he ought to be mindin' his own business?! And to mistake her words, that weren't for his ears to start, on top of that! Mind Frankie swells with rage before dissipating as she pulls back into reality with the shake of her head.
"What's kissing to you, weirdo? You see anyone smoochin' lips 'round here, huh?" She retorts with a cross of her arms. The roaches all turn to watch the scene unfold, completely deadpan.
God and the Devil have both forsaken Ivo on this day, for as soon as the young lady finishes lambasting the poor man, the deep voice returns... and apparently, it is emerging from the mouth of the standing, suit-wearing rodent. All reason and logic have abandoned this world in the face of a talking capybara wearing a suit, casting Ivo into the darkness of the outer limits.
"You trynna make sweet on my daughter?" the capybara demands, his nostrils flaring with anger, his hands gesticulating wildly as he speaks. "You pencil neck, I'll do you like I did Jimmy the Rat!"
SOME TIME AGO
A capybara wearing a suit and wielding a tommy gun shoots a man wearing a similar suit to death in an expensive restaurant.
NOW
"Or that rat, Jimmy!"
SOME TIME AGO
A capybara wearing a suit and wielding a tommy gun shoots a rat to death in an expensive restaurant.
NOW
Sweating profusely, the portly, bushy-mustached proprietor of the stall emerges from where he was finishing packing up his things, now all bundled into a humble leather satchel clutched in his hands. "Please-a, mon signore," he pleads with the capybara. "Not in front of-a the roaches..."
Ivo certainly didn't expect such hostility. Attempting a disarming smile, he raises his hands in a gesture of harmlessness toward the bristling young woman. At this point, he revels in making the most of incomprehensible situations, so as a sign of goodwill, he tries to say something that might interest her based on what he's overheard more clearly.
"If you're interested in learning how to hiss, I know a young man whose *hair* can hiss. You'll think your ears are deceiving you, but really--"
He trails off. If only his ears were deceiving him. But no. The color drains from his face as it becomes clear that the big cute rat is talking, no, threatening him. It's actually really scary. Ivo, not being one for visions, nevertheless has a premonition of being shot to death in a restaurant with a tommy gun, which is especially scary because he doesn't know what a tommy gun is.
"Uh--"
Still blanching, hands frozen in place, his eyes rove among those present, finally settling on the quietly staring cockroaches.
"It's cool. Everything's cool," he says shakily.
The bugs don't look convinced.
"Not a wise guy at all, sir," Ivo finally manages, straining for diplomacy. "A wise guy would not have dared approach your lovely daughter, I'm sure, ah ha ha." Great, exactly what a wise guy would say. As he bullshits, his mind is racing. Is this a beastkin? Too small. If it weren't for the voice, he'd just say it were a... beast. And his *daughter*? Clearly human, right?
It takes a few seconds before Ivo realizes that he is staring intently at the young woman, unable to resist examining her for any traces of beastkin heritage. Whoops.
"I don't know any cats, but," he says desperately, too deathly curious about this bizarre couple to do what he should obviously do and turn to flee, "I do know a rat-man and a dragon-girl!" Some of his best friends are beastkin.
"A rat-man AND a dragon-girl?" She squints at him, suspicious nonetheless. "Are they your friends? Do they have tails? Do they have ears? What do they eat? Where do they go the bathroom? If you're lyin', I'll have to take you out back and show you the concrete slippers my pops makes for all the fibbers out in these parts! Just like what happened to Fibby the Fibber!" No flashback follows his proclamation. Those were dark times.
She turns a little and leans in toward the roaches, whispering quietly. They hiss, accept three crackers and an acorn from her hand, then turn to talk business with their handler, the portly Mario Brother.
She dusts herself off despite being completely pristine. "You best make nice with my pops here, though, or he'll invent a highly powerful and deadly device to inflict upon his enemies. . .
Another moment, and the rodent suddenly exhales, blowing a cloud of cottony, fragrant vapor up towards Ivo's face. "You know what, kid, you're right," he concedes. "A wise guy wouldn't mess around with the Capo... so you must not be a wise guy." He looks thoughtfully up at Ivo for a beat, and then points the device in his hands warningly at him. "You got lucky. So I'll let you off the hook this time... long as you answer my honey bear's questions about ya beastkin friend. She's crazy 'bout those freaks ever since her mother passed, God rest her soul." The capybara's free hand makes the sign of the cross over his body as he overshares this information.
"Yes! Yes, and rather sensitive ones -- or so a friend told me! Yes, and the rat-man has rat ones! Spicy curry, maybe? And, I'll get back to you on that!" The conspicuous lack of bathrooms in most RPGs may make it hard to say. You'd think the designers would rectify that, especially what with the spicy curry. "Truly, it is a pleasure to meet another earnest soul, so filled with wonder." Yes, now there can be two people wondering what Priel does in the bathroom.
At her warning, he smiles, valiantly forcing down his uneasiness.
"Far be it from me to roughen your hands with labor, ah ha ha. I'll steer clear of any holes or, uh, burrows--"
Despite himself, he flinches back from the cloud of steam that the rodent puffs up at him. Could this be one of the highly powerful and deadly devices the young lady mentioned? Is this... a tommy gun? It looked a little different in his vision. Still, he seems to have survived the steam blast. Ivo sniffs tentatively. Somehow, he feels like he would look very cool if he had one of those too.
"Yes, sir," he replies earnestly. Anything to learn more about these characters and not, you know, die trying. "And may I say it is a pleasure to meet a talented inventor. Did you fashion that, um, pipe yourself? I have some training in the crafting of magitech and alchemy, but I have not seen its like... oh, but how rude, I've failed to introduce myself." He straightens, placing a hand to his chest. "Ivo Galvan, at your service for beastkin-related queries, etcetera."
Ivo has so many questions he doesn't know where to begin. The rodent calls beastkin 'freaks' despite, uh, being a rodent. He made some sort of mysterious gesture over his furry body just now. But above all--
"May I ask... why you wanted to learn to *hiss*? Miss...?"
"Count yourself lucky, then, Sir Ivo," Frankie replies in a clear and robust voice, striking a pose next to her father. "For you have made potential allies your forefathers could only have dreamed of! And we didn't even need to off you."
She stands there, clearly pleased with her performance, until she remembers he asked her something and it might be worth it to answer. "Ah!" She turns and looks longingly into the distance, her hands clasped before her chest. That's right, her dream. . . One of her many to be had. . . Mind Frankie sports a pair of voluminous cat ears, her canines gleaming in the sun of a different existence. She loses herself for another long moment before she remembers, right, he asked a question! She turns to him sharply, eyes bright with the energy usually only allowed to protagonists or harem romance options.
"The name's Frankie, sonny boy!" She smiles broadly. "And I'm going to become the ultimate cat-girl!"
Ivo sounds genuinely impressed as Frankie launches into talking herself up. What sort of extraordinary contacts has he made? What kind of abilities will he unlock as he levels up this new Social Link? Will one of them be a tommy gun? And most importantly--
He glances at the now-sleeping rodent.
What the hell was in that pipe?
"Frankie..."
Ivo looks back to the daughter, struck by the passion gleaming in her eyes. His heart skips a beat. What transcendent dream, what stirring originality, could drive such a unique individual?
"Good for you."
Don't laugh. Ivo. Don't you *fucking* laugh. Don't do it. Her father could wake up at any moment. Hell, maybe he's not even sleeping. Maybe it's a trap. You want to wear concrete? No. Good. Because this is a prime opportunity for trolling.
"In honor of our new friendship," he continues, absolutely straight faced, "I would be thrilled to invite you to join me and my party at the inn near the market some future evening, at your convenience, so that I might introduce you to my beastkin friends. The dragon-girl in particular -- why, I think she'll love you."
Blame yourself or God, Priel.
"But it seems your father is in need of rest, and I would not dare keep you overlong. Every cat has a time limit, yes? Ah ha ha." He read a book about pet grooming once. Ivo reads a lot of random books. "Until then -- I wish you well in your purrsuit of purrfection!"
He puns so shamelessly that by the time it's clear he has, he is departing with a smile and swirl of his cloak, not exactly running away but walking just a *little* fast, just fast enough that he can round a corner before he collapses crying with laughter.