bet on losing ᶜᵃᵗdogs !

──ཐི ྐ( ᶠᶸᶜᵏᵧₒᵤ! )ཋྀ ྐ─•──   TICKLISH .ᐟˎˊ˗ ──ཀཀ EXTREMELY TICKLISH ──ཀཀ only made worse by feather-like fur grazing against delicate && tremendously sensitive nerves. The short vampire couldn't handle it ; he had to squirm around on the ground in a fit of laughter. NO ARIN FOUND HIS ONLY WEAKNESS ──ཀཀ ESPECIALLY HIS BACK .ᐟˎˊ˗ He could take his father's undying wrath, but cute little fluffy paws would be the DEATH of him.

AND NOW, whenever he misbehaves, what's going to stop the felicid from doing this again?! Sadly, Aluin didn't have too much time to think about that──ཀཀ needing to find quick reprieve from this attack──ཀཀ the vampire rolled to his stomach and freed the bats from his shoulder.

With a simple shift of density ──ཀཀ pale skin like a doorway out of a void ──ཀཀ all of the bats are free to squeak and fly into the ceiling ; if Arin is not careful, he could fall into the hollow form crying && laughing on the floor for mercy. It is fine, he can simply call his bats back later, he does literally speak their language && controls them.

                                  ❝  I AM GOING TO FUCK YOU UP⭑.ᐟˎˊ˗ Those are my babiesss──ཀཀ my army ──ཀཀ my KIN  .ᐟˎˊ˗  If you hurt any of them ──ཀཀ I DON'T CARE how much fur you have, I'll eat you  .ᐟˎˊ˗    ❞ ──ཀ♡ཀﮩ٨ـ 𖦤 ̊ ̟ ⊱༒︎

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐬. Poor Aluin would feel heavily calloused paw pads, but also the threat of those claws prodding at tender flesh with each hit. Airin isn’t paying attention to what the little vampire is doing, though, so when Aluin rolls onto his stomach—Airin cheeps and wriggles to counteract being smushed.

He ungraciously breaks free, staggering beside Aluin. The felicid’s gaze is wide with the real bats now in view, and unfortunately for them, he bunches up his hind quarters and leaps into the air. Paws extended, he snatches one between them and, as they fall, places it in his maw before he lands.

He got it!! This is so much better than one of those red dots!

Airin trots over to Aluin with the wriggling, unharmed—just manhandled—bat in his maw still. He drops it in front of Aluin and places a paw over it. The felicid chirrups—He did it! He got the bat!!

Augustine listens as the other speaks to him. Understanding what he was saying to him. There had been studies recently about alternative dimensions and certain beings that were able to transport through them. Was this poor being one of those beings accidentally brought through one of those wormholes ？

❝ Well after all you've been through I like to think you landed in one of the safest places in a strange new place. ❞ He tells him gently. He doesn't press a reassuring head pat like the other's head like he would other creatures wandering around.

❝ The strange creatures you see here are called Pokemon. They all have unique abilities , names and bonds with the people here. I'm Professor Augustine Sycamore and you're in my research lab and observatory. ❞ He settles down the first aide kit as he smiles gently.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝’𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 when the man responds gently. He speaks as if… something like this has happened before? Or… are these Pokémon creatures odd enough that an animal speaking is not out of the ordinary? Yet Airin hasn’t heard any of them talk outside of repeating the same words over and over again…

He outstretches his front paws and lays his head sideways to watch Augustine; his eyes now rounded with intrigue. " Home might be far away. " He replies softly, seemingly in thought. " …They call me Airin, by the way. Thank you for all your help so far, Augustine; you’re very lucky I didn’t bite you. " His tail quivers as he gives a soft trill.

︵‿₊୨ ཐི ྐ ❤︎ ໒ ୧₊‿︵. ❝ Ohhhh, I see, you're like one of those adorable Library cats. The whole workplace takes care of you... ❞ There's a slight pout, feeling as if she's missing out on a rare Pokémon or something ──୨ৎ── insistent, yes, but she takes the no. Panori is not one to kidnap, but she is one to move her hand back to their head for another pat.

❝ What kind of place do you work at? Sounds like a good place if they have chicken strips... and cute fluffy guys like you. A fox cafe? A petting zoo? ❞

" 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐬. " He pushes his head against her hand—if she’s going to start petting him, she better not stop! " It’s a bar for the supernatural, or myths if you know local slang. I’m a bouncer over there. "

His coworkers would laugh if they heard her say they all take care of him. Airin is pretty independent, outside of the shenanigans or Irish Goodbyes he inflicts on the others. Those are worthy of scolding, but being taken care of? Well, he actually doesn’t want to think too hard on that.

"Great, more of the same cryptic bullshit..." Ava mumbles, tearing her gaze away from Peony to take in what he exactly is. Had it not been for the way she'd intruded, there isn't a doubt in her mind that the first thing she would have been is amazed. That curiosity is still only barely smothered by some amount of anxiety, though she has enough of a mind to not step closer to him to try and get a better look.

She reaches up to grab both of other dragonflies, to settle them on her shoulders before either of them can make a rash decision. "Safety isn't somethin' I expect anywhere I go," Danger would find her anywhere she went, or she would stumble upon it. "But I am a little stupid and accidentally go places I shouldn't." Ava leans in slightly, trying to catch sight of where exactly the rest of him is.

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 that doesn’t exist, his throat clicks. He cares not for her fumbling explanation, but rather the curiosity fluttering within her life force. It beads up, then pops softly at its peak in hues of yellow. It’s very different from human intrigue. Though from one extraterrestrial to another, his surprise is not on the tip of his tongue.

Slowly, his head turns further—Peony rotating with the motion as if his whole, hidden body is a murky, matte kaleidoscope. A hum bubbles from the murk along his neck, but he simply stares at her in silence after her inquiry.

" Depends… " He finally answers with an air of nonchalance. Which, to him, is basically the whole answer to her question. She’s aware of her brother, the aroma of the Gear Shift clinging beneath her nail beds; she should simply know in his diluted mind. But another curiosity of his own arises, one far away from the topic at hand…

He never hunts bugs. They’re small and of little value to him, but this large and insistent one… It makes him as curious as a child experiencing a little creek for the first time. A tendril that’s locked around one of her back legs snaps it like a twig—cruel and unusual, yet he wants to know if it reacts like a mammal—will it cry?

She glances back at where he rests, making sure that she's gauged his interest - or lack thereof - appropriately so that she can continue on. If she had any doubts before, the comment he makes on her interests at the very least confirms that he's not so put off by it all.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃æ 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 in the topic remains to be seen. He continues to idly swing his foot over the concrete wall and lets his cigarette stub slowly burn out. Not even a twitch of an expression past his odd, pressed smile tells of what he’s actually thinking. Which is fine. He’s bemused by the topic, if anything. As he rarely hears petite children discuss corpses between the static of his subconscious.

" How many people have you killed… " Xavier thinks aloud to the wind, without actually giving it any thought. He rolls his head back to look at the sky—so many distant stars on this sunny day. " A child shouldn’t be doing that. Your stubby sausages can barely… wield a knife. Yes… "

His hand raises, a single finger waggles back and forth in a slow, twitchy beat. " You are denied chunks. Until you’re no longer a sausage. "

ཐི ( ᶠᶸᶜᵏ ᵧₒᵤ! ) ཋྀ ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ⊱༒︎    As a vampire who was "born" && never turned ( && not too much older than myspace ) he greatly disobeys the creator ──ཀཀཀ SO CALLED FATHER ──ཀཀཀ thus, feedings are scarce. POWERS && NEEDS ALIKE ignore due to self-hatred ; hence the overexuding of power to do the simple && ignoring that feeling, as all feelings are buried underneath stubborn mischievous behavior.

So, despite showing obvious signs by holding the wall, he acts as if all is normal watching that cute little body scamper across the floor ──ཀཀཀ even forcing his voice not to sound breathy && shaky.

                                    First chance he gets, he's biting someone....

            ❝ If you have to make that DISTINCTION for just me, I would HATE to meet your friends if they sexually harass you like that ! ˎˊ˗ GROSS! I am the kind of furry that likes werewolves ──ཀཀཀ WHATEVER kind that is. I guess... less of a furry, more of a momster fucker with a biting and teeth fetish. ❞ Open && honest contemplation on his hyperfixated mind ──ཀཀཀ SHAMELESS but uncertain how to describe himself.

            ❝ So don't fucking BITE ME... it would be nasty for both of us. I think it's impossible for me to even see you as a sexual thing anymore... SO GROSS ! ˎˊ˗ I don't even want to think about it anymore... ❞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬, and slowly turns with his fuzzy brows lifted—a smile tugging at the edge of his maw.  " So you admit it? That you’ve been sexually harassing me and seeing me as a sexual thing all this time? " He shakes his head, and within a mere blink, shifts back into a human. This guy better damn-well hold up his declaration, but part of him believes Aluin won’t.

Airin lifts his arms high, a joint popping as he stretches. " Well, what a relief! I’m so glad we’re past that chapter of whatever this was, since you don’t see me that way anymore—whew! " He wipes his brow in dramatic exaggeration, then turns on his heel to continue down the dark library. " Maybe we can actually have conversations now rather than you demanding I suck your dick all the time, wouldn’t that be wild? "

And if Aluin goes back to all the sex talk? Airin will simply shift back to remind him what he’s making those comments towards. He can play this song and dance all night if he has to. " Now, help me find some funny misdemeanor shit—it’s like reading tabloids but on steroids. "

A quiet beach with an even quieter town. A small, insignificant shell over dark, unknowable innards once pulled out && tossed into the sea. An altar sat inside a sea cave. Inside, a statue depicting a man with the lower half of an octopus sat atop an altar decorated with runes. At the the foot of the stature were freshly prepared seafood dishes, clothing made by hand && decorated with greens && blues, && different carvings of the very statue that sat below.

Something, not beast nor man, trasped across the beach, watched by stormy eyes just above the top of the sea. Never had the creature seen the being in the sand, four-legged && small with golden yellow fur that shone in the sunlight. Yet it was no animal. Almost like a man, but not. It was something between, unlike anything the creature had seen deep in the abyss.

They followed the being into the sea cave that held the altar, curious. Mass of tentacles became two unsteady, green-tinted legs. They hobbled through the mouth of the cave, claws gripping along the wall for support. The creature paused just next to a flaming torch, observing the strange mammal take something between its teeth.

𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬. The omen of misfortune didn’t care to be gawked at—pointed to and essentially thrown out with spit and spike. Because even though he’s a predator who is capable of hunting, there are days he doesn’t feel like shifting to deal with humans, or to expend too much energy for a hunt. His lazy paws would rather carry him within a damp sea cavern, where the scent of humans wafted strongly above the currents.

Perhaps it’s unwise to practically defile an altar. The deity has his own deeper inland, although he allows the local fauna to take what they please from it. Maybe this deity won’t mind the same?

Airin noses through the nasty-smelling seafood, tossing away anything else he doesn’t find appealing. The clothing is rummaged, the statuettes rolling against the uneven surface. What he does find hidden beneath some of the food, though, are chips. They’re no longer fresh, but he takes a few in his maw to try to piece them apart from the rest of the icky food.

But it isn’t until the being… wobbles close enough that his nose realizes he isn’t alone. Chittering, Airin wiggles beneath some of the clothing—only his nose peaking out. Unfortunately, they speak a tongue unknown to him, but regardless, he growls a little bit and snatches one of the fries to munch—these are his!

Franco chuckles quietly, crossing his arms over his chest and hiding his hands in his armpits to keep them warm. Astonishing, really, that they managed to fit so many different environments in a place like this. It made him wonder just how big this facility really was and if he'd ever manage an escape if he tried to get out.

"Can't?" That implies it's a weakness. Did the Tongue of God have weaknesses? Would a being like that give his tools such a vulnerability? "What, would she freeze? Like us?" He speaks the ending a little louder, hoping that those observing them would catch the hint and let them in. "I wouldn't be surprised, but they've got a room for her t' sleep in like they got for all of us." Though when was the last time he saw her there? The day she arrived, but she didn't stay in there long. "What a creepy woman... I hate they've got us workin' with 'er. I'd be happy doing literally anythin' else right now."

As if on queue, the door behind them unlocks with a click. Franco turns around quickly, looking to Airin for confirmation before shuffling toward the door and pushing it open. The air in this room wasn't much better than the air outside, but at least they weren't being pelted by the cold!

𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧. She’d cut his tongue with how he described it—unholy. In a bin full of lunatics, she took the cake and then some. Because at least the other prime assets had faces that still spoke of their long-lost humanity. With her, you could never tell what she’s thinking, or what she is. It made the hunter uneasy that she’s practically animalistic in her movements, but at least he still owns the rafters—while she claims their hiding places… he still has the element of surprise by dropping in from above.

And, what he isn’t willing to admit, is where he feels safe from her during these new trials.

His lips part, about to respond to the little water-cooler gossip, until he hears the squeal of the door as it unlocks. He hesitates for a moment—the idea of sharing a space with her still too iffy—but he darts through the door just in time, because he sure as shit doesn’t want to be stuck out here.

Once he makes it in the nick of time, he nearly falls flat on his face. The predator bounces forward on one foot, realizing his pant leg is stuck in the door. A good, annoyed tug rips him free. At least these pants are already torn and patched to shreds.

He growls a bit, " Yeah, but have you ever seen her in there after her first day? " Airin steps further inside, and already takes to scaling up the shitty, cabin décor to perch atop a grand bookshelf, dusty bookshelf. " I dunno’ what they’re planning with her, or what they wanna’ use her for other than scaring the piss outta’ us and the reagents. Her body count is rising higher than any of ours! "

do you remember what you said to me on our wedding night?

can we do it again?

you said that god brought us together for a reason.

the devil exists. god exists. and for us, as people, our very destiny hinges upon which one we elect to follow.

we've been called ghost hunters. paranormal researches. wackos.

when the music stops, you'll see him in the mirror standing behind you.

want to play a game of hide and clap?

there's a case in long island he'd like to discuss.

diabolical forces are formidable. these forces are eternal, and they exist today.

the fairy tale is true.

look, i gotta tell you, you have a lot of spirits in here, but this is the one that i'm most worried about because it is so hateful.

sometimes it's better to keep the genie in the bottle.

hear that?

i don't hear anything.

that explains a few things.

what's an inhuman spirit?

it's something demonic.

there's a lady in a dirty nightgown that i see in my dreams.

it scares us just thinking about it.

when you hear it, you're gonna think we're insane.

try us. please, from the start.

everything you see here is either haunted, cursed, or has been used in some kind of ritualistic practice. nothing's a toy.

don't touch it.

stop farting. it really stinks.

don't blame that on me. it's you.

i'd take a guy with a gun any day.

yeah, i don't know what her problem is.

we can't leave her out there.

we keep everything locked in here.

feel free to look around. just don't touch anything.

this clock stopped at 3:07 and so did the one in the hallway.

that's weird.

there's something horrible happening in my house.

He slams both paws down on the shifting bat tattoos, and then keeps batting at them—wham, WHAM!

ཐི ( ᶠᶸᶜᵏ ᵧₒᵤ! ) ཋྀ ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ⊱༒︎    ❝ That really tickles - ! ˎˊ˗ STOP THAT YOUR ARE SCARYING THEM - ! ˎˊ˗ ❞ More like Airin is scaring him with those claws. They can't cause any real damage, but he would not have a "scrambled egg fox" playing with his "DEADLY BAT ARMORY." As a formless being, the bats can move in him freely && likely don't even feel Arin's touch ──ཀཀཀ fish tank situation with a Vampire body and about 20 bats ──ཀཀཀ but when they fly up into his chest, it genuinely feels funny.

Thus, he reaches down to try and pick Airn up like a kitty. Aluin has only himself to blame for taking off his shirt to prove how manly he is, only to show off his BONEY BODY lacking any muscle && honestly meat ──ཀཀཀ unfortunately BLOOD is a liquid based diet with very little fats....

❝ Do it again and I'll SHOVE you in there with them. Bats can see in the dark. Can Arins? ❞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝’𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 when he’s picked up. Against Aluin’s skin, his fur is horridly plush and warm—the perfect opposite of the vampire’s very cold flesh. His instinct to pursue the moving targets doesn’t quell in his new position, though. Aluin would see the Airin he usually gripes with is overtaken by feline intrigue, as Airin’s eyes are dilated and still searching for the little bats.

He does, though, answer Aluin through little chitters and warbles. And then when he spots one move around Aluin’s shoulder and bats his paw at it, and wriggles to try to see over Aluin’s shoulder to figure out where it went—get it, get it!!