The Ghost Of 725 Beulah
Regardless of whether Khoi has or has not invited people over, he's here. Coming up to his front porch, one can hear him singing and playing ... Creedence fucking Clearwater Revival? Yup. He's in the middle of some jam session, apparently, with his jazz guitar, angering the neighbor with the closing act of his hours-long playing. "...And when you ask 'em, hwo much should we give, they only answer, more more more! It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, no~!" Whoever knocks on his door will not be answered until he finishes this song, but it's plain to hear from his tiny front porch.
It's a concert with one audience member: Quark, the cat. The pitiful, ugly cat.
Well, when Mason knocks on the door it's singing right along, with his strong, great-for-the-car, great-for-the-shower, great-for-karaoke night-but-no-better voice, chiming right in. And getting into it. So kudos to the neighborhood, who gets a weirdo pausing to put his weight on his back foot so he can play air guitar on his cane and belt out, "It ain't me! It ain't meee," really loudly and happily. He doesn't even need the door open to join in on this, and is apparently at a point in his life where he has lost all capacity for shame or caring what random people think about him at all. "Great choice," he says cheerfully, as he thunks his cane back down and just comes right on in.
Bernard knocks from the street, his ear buds preventing him from hearing Khoi's jam sesh or Mason's back up singing. The man dressed like a low rent tourist strolls in behind the man with the cane, kick his flip flops off as soon as he passes the threshhold. Holding his hands up in preparation to sign he instead decides to pluck out his buds. "Hey man." he offers Mason before smiling softly at whichever of his hosts were present, "What's good with you?".
Christy is actually here, in some undesced part of the house, with headphones on. This is not her jam, despite the fact that she otherwise loves all live music. Still, even through noise-canceling headphones, she manages to hear something, so she is suddenly in the living room. "Oh hello," she smiles, "It's a party! Hey Bernard! Hey, uh... George Clooney."
Quark the cat has flattened ears and slit eyes, pointedly looking away from the source of this NOISE where-ever possible. His beans are curled up under him, and his tail swishes in mild agitation. He is perched on the back of the couch in the living room near one end.
Khoi's so immersed in his little personal concert that he doesn't notice the singing, or the company. His electric guitar is that old, bold, 60s-70s Gibson looking number, portable battery powered amp casting the full and throaty, distorted voice of its steel strings. Hell, he even has one of those hipster foot drums made out of a suitcase to make Quark and Christy's life true hell. It's only when he finishes his song that he bothers to come back to the here and now, realizing there's someone here. He had been playing at the foot of his bed, the door to the bedroom open. He gets up, setting his guitar on the stand, stepping into the den when he realizes people are actualy here.
He's not sure if he invited 'em, and not willing to risk his pride in admitting it, so he just puts on a warm smile and welcomes the company as if he meant for them to be here. "Hey guys! How's it going?"
Mason's laugh lines crinkle deeply and an amused grin flashes over his face as he briefly ducks his head. "Well that's very kind of you," he says, to Christy's attempts to identify him. Then he straightens his gaze and puts out his hand. "Mason Costache," he says, laugh lines still displaying around those bright blue eyes. He'll take that, he most certainly will. "You must be Christy."
He smiles and nods to Bernard, and says, "It's all good, how are you?"
And to Khoi? Does he shed light on the subject? Not a bit. "Doing well, how are you? You play wonderfully."
Bernard beams at Christy, "Hey!" he calls on the way to give his friends a hug. He flashes a peace sign at Mason, "I'm Bernard dude I don't know if we've met? I'm good though, yeah." offering a greeting and response. The lilest Sahajiya tugs distracedly on his, "I love San Francisco" shirt. "I dunno..you guys good? You looked busy the other day. Thought I'd stop by..or whatever.".
"Hello, Mason!" Christy leaps toward the man, and takes the offered hand, her grip crushingly strong. "I've heard a lot about you, but Khoi didn't mention the fact that you're a /silver fox/! I mean, not even that silver, really, just like, a little, but anyway, it's great to meet you. Hooray, it's a Bernard!" She detaches from Mason to accost Bernard next, wrapping him up in an exuberant hug. "Helloooo!"
Quark's left ear flicks. Both of the ears slowly start to stand now that the monstrous noise is over, rotating forward instead of lying flat. He slowly blinks in the direction of these... _people_... in his domain. Peasants. Have they given him a treat? No. They therefore deserve DEATH. Or, at best, regal disdain. Swish. Swish, goes his tail.
Khoi's got 'what are you doing here' written all over his face despite his attempts to write it away and out of his soft features. "Uh, thanks, man," he says to Mason, before autopilot bids him to go do the routine of Tea And Snacks. "We're good, yeah, Bernie, um, where were we when uh, we last left off?" It's this line he casts, a shot in the dark, to try and figure out what the hell the occasion is without asking. For all he knows, he invited them over and entirely forgot. Khoi can sit down to a dinner he has no recollection of cooking.
As Christy hugs and Quark judges, Khoi puts together the tamarind candies, chips and tea to set on the table.
"I think we met in passing the other day," he tells Bernard, but since 'the other day' was 'and then all hell broke loose' he doesn't seem too put out that Bernard needed a refresher. Christy's comment just has him ducking another quick grin to the ground, but this causes him to notice Quark. "Hello Majestic One," he greets with all the gravity that a cat's dignity requires. And then makes a beeline for the tamarind candies that Khoi has hooked him on.
Bernard regards Khoi's expression with a small frown, "Did someone fuck with your porch? I know those gates aren't super uncommon in the city but..." his eyes narrow and drop to the ground. He chews his bottom lip, appearing to be straining to organize his thoughts. Looking back up he gives Mason a polite but distracted smile. "Cool. Good to see again then yeah?". He turns his worried eyes to Christy looking like he has a question he isn't sure how to ask.
"What? No," Khoi shakes his head. "I just uh, after the like, thing, at the chantry with the cultists, like the -crazy- UFO cultists, wanted a nice door..." Of course, it's a lot of good an unlocked door's going to do the man, but there's his explanation.
Suddenly, Quark's ears prick, and his head rises on his little cat neck, his eyes wide and staring off in A Direction, toward the kitchen. It is not Mason's greeting, though it is timely. Perhaps the sound of Khoi putting things together in the kitchen has him deciding he can get paid. Fed. Same. But as he plops down off of the couch, and plops down again with his paws hitting the matte concrete floor, anyone who has spent any time around cats can discern his behavior. He creeps over to the kitchen, keeping to the walls and corners, his ears wiggling with minor adjustments on each step like radar dishes triangulating a sound. His eyes grow wide and the black of his irises consume them, his tail long and flat behind him.
Quark is hunting.
He stares from the doorway into the kitchen toward the refrigerator even as Khoi busies himself gathering the vittles for his guests, low and attentive.
Stare. Stare stare.
"The door? Was the door just unlocked and open?" Christy releases Bernard from her octopus-like hug and peers toward the door, then heads over there to make sure it's closed and locked. Safety first! She returns to the group, looking between Mason and Bernard. "Khoi didn't mention we were having a party, but what better time for it! Did you know that tonight is National Marching Band Day? Who wants something to drink? I mean alcohol..." She glances toward the cat, and watches him, with that goofy look people get whenever they are near a KITTY!
"Yes please, I'd love one," Mason says, slow blinking. "And oh, Khoi said I should come over to meet you, I apologize if I caught you at a bad time."
Yes Khoi, see? *Totally your fault.*
He chalks up cat behavior to cat behavior.
Khoi's subtle tension finally washes away as he realizes he did, in fact, invite Mason over. Not that having zero recollection helps, but he accepts and trusts it, and is able to chalk up a very faint memory. He ignores Quark as he pours tea. It hasn't been the first or last time Quark chased imaginary wall weasels that turned out to be dumb shit.
OOC: Bernard, are you posing? I will wait for you a moment if you are.
Quark goes from hunting mode to pissed, scared mode just as quickly. His tail tucks under his legs, and his ears lie flat again. He lies low to the ground and maowls lowly.
That is when the refrigerator door opens and there's the sound of a few things being nudged. When it closes, behind it there is a three-foot long cockroach walking on his hind legs like a human and holding a jar of pickles with his middle two legs. He uses his top leg to lean against the closed door while his middle two work on opening the jar.
"Hey. Khoi!" he says, with a Jersey accent, sounding like Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force. "I heardyas playin' earlier. Good stuff. You cover Foreigner? Hey, can I have a pickle? I am so damn hungry. Trade ya for some hot goss. But for that I want the leftover chow mein too."
The photorealistic but bulldog sized cockroach's head tilts and looks Christy up and down. "Hey, toots. You're a lookah. Damn, how come all ya's women have blue hair? What the hell's with that?"
All the blood drains out of Christy's face, and she takes an automatic step backwards. Through Herculean effort, she manages to hold her shit together, but there's panic in her eyes.
Mason takes a few steps back, eyebrows shooting upward. He sort of looks around everywhere, like a man suddenly wondering if he's found his way into some kind of madness, perhaps spurred by a Maurader's nostalgia viewing of *Who Framed Roger Rabbit.* He turns a questioning gaze on Mason. His house, his...houseguest. "Ah," he says, in the way that someone might say 'ah' when a giant roach who wants pickles has arrived upon the scene.
Quark's sudden hackling does grab Khoi's attention, and then when the fridge door opens, Khoi stumbles back. Oh, shit -- And when Many steps out, he blanches. Oh, my GOD, that thing -- first of all, it's here, second of all, it's -- it's time to get rid of _all of the food_.
As all the color drains from Christy's face, the back of Khoi's throat burns. He swallows it down. Wills it down.
As he tries wrestling his composure back into control, he waves in place of a hi. "Uh, ... yeah, you can have the food." It's not like he's going to ever touch it. He steps in front of Christy, trying to provide some kind of shield between her and the item of her phobia.
Alarm and urgency paint his voice: "What are you doing here?"
Bernard eyes widen at the cockroach, tilting his head almost as if it makes sense to see the talking creature. Then no, panic takes hold and he stumbles back into something almost tumbling over the obstacle. He mutters, "What the fuck.." under his breath. Looking in Khoi's direction he yells a bit, "Hey man.." shrinking a bit as Khoi addresses the newest arrival.
"Damn, girl, I know I'm a stud, but you ain't gotta eyefuck me like that," Many-Legs-Trash-Thief says to Christy. He still struggles to open the jar of pickles, now putting three paws toward the effort. "Daddy just needs a little fuel-up, and then he'll be out of your sweet california lilacs."
When Khoi consents to his gorging, he goes, "Hell yeah," and pops open the pickle jar, sticking a paw in and darting it into his mandibles. The fridge door opens again and he sets the still-open pickle jar on the floor, grabbing out one of those paper takeout containers and opening it to just start eating.
"Anyways," slorp, "That Austin Powers dickhole took down my shrine and has these laser beams up, so I got outta there. But I like you guys well enough, more'n the old crop. The Praise Jesus dude and the neckbeard. So," hnngh, mmm, "That's good noodle, right there, that's. That's hittin' the spot, I tell yas."
There is a pause in Many's gorging. He lowers the container, chalicerae wet with sauce, and adds, "Oh, yeah. The trade. There's a guy watchin' your house. Has been for like, 3 days. Figured you'd wanna know."
Christy lurches backwards, trying to get as much space between herself and the giant roach as possible. She literally hits a wall, and stays there, pressed to it like she's trying to chameleon her way into invisibility. Obviously, Roachzilla there comes in peace, and it giving good intel, but Christy is nevertheless seems stunned and horrified, even more so than you'd expect from seeing something like this ravaging the kitchen and your precious pickles. She says, in a hoarse voice, "Fuuuuuuck."
Mason clears his throat and says, "Well that's not good. We should probably do something about that." He resists the temptation to make his ponderous way over to the window to look, but the half-start he makes in that direction says he thought about it. He looks back over to Khoi and Christy. Their house, their watcher.
Bernard squeezes them both when Khoi joins in. "Should we go somewhere else?" asking as he cocks his head toward the Christy section of the puddle. "I think..I have some thoughts. But like it doesn't seem like sharing right now is the vibe?". He rocks them a little bit seeming fully aware that while Khoi might be holding his own he too might be more than a little freaked out.
Khoi sucks in some air and levels it out. Adrenaline shows itself in the tiny quiver of his hands, or maybe that's some uh, withdrawal tremor, but either way, he more or less manages a calm facade even if his stomach is doing cartwheels at every slurp, click, chitter and gurgle of this dog-sized cockroach eating his food. He swallows down another round of nausea.
His eyes flit off to Christy as she bangs into the wall, then he looks back at Many. He takes a few steps toward Christy as Mason precariously takes a step to the window and then stops. He reaches out for Christy's forearm to take her by the wrist and _attempt_ to soothe her, but he keeps his eyes on the roach.
"What can you tell us about the guy watching the house?"
Bernard clenches his teeth looking between the talking giant cockroach and whatever mysterious watcher lingers past their threshhold. "Why would anyone be watching you guys?" he blurts out as he starts to get as much bearing as one could expect in the circumstances. The initiate lets out a long sigh while he waits for answer from the impossible thing.
"That's right, baby, you know it," Many replies to Christy, antennae wiggling like emotive eyebrows. The roach head tilts like a bird's and his compound eye seems to point toward Khoi.
"I can hide it, you know. Make it hard to find, like how people would walk right past that Technicolor Raincoat door and shag carpet joint. Your place, I mean." He dips a paw into the paper container and lifts a gripful of noodles and mushrooms into his grinding exoskeletal teeth-things. The chow mein is vegan, obviously.
"Then your secret admirerer won't be takin' locks of your hair while you're sleeping, no sir, because Many-Legs will be on the case. 'Acourse, we gotta make a deal for that, you know. As for tha guy," Many seems to shrug, as alien as a movement as it is on him, "He's a guy, whaddaya want from me? Yous mostly look the same. Gotta camera though. I could delete all his pictures for ya, if you want, but..." Many holds up the one paw that so far hasn't gotten into any food and rubs it against itself. Is he making... the italian gesture? Or trying to clap with one hand? No, it is the fingers-rubbing-for-money gesture. Gotta be.
He levels a big mutlifaceted eye at Bernard and lowers the paper chow mein container. "You got a frickin' problem, curly? I'm conductin' business here."
Christy continues to try and dissolve into the wall, especially as the cockroach devours HER vegan chow mein. "I - I can't - I literally - I can't even. I can't," she mumbles, wild eyed.
As Mason sort of melts into the stunned silence Khoi wishes he could turtle into, he looks to Bernard. "Technocrats, probably, I'm uh -- this Vietnamese guy," he answers, before he looks back to the cockroach. The cockroach who says yous mostly look the same. He triple blinks. "I can't tell if that's racist or species-ist," he admits, with some un-ease. "What payment do you want?"
Then Christy starts to babble, and Khoi can't possibly ignore his blue haired darling, so he tries to soothe her. "Christy, it's okay. It's okay. Just, close your eyes and pretend you're somewhere else." He keeps a grip on her wrist.
Bernard gestures in general at the cockroach, "Dude". He looks at the cockroach like it's reasonable that he is weirded out. Bernie takes a knee, frowning at Christy who seems to be having a much worse time with this than anyone else. Gripping a corner of couch he peeks over trying to look a little closer in the fridge, "Where did you even come from dude?" he mumbles, probably at Many Legs but maybe just to himself. He half nods at Khoi narrowing his eyes curious at the negotiations.
Christy squeezes her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing, deep yogic breaths. She's trembling visibly, trying to squish herself into the wall even as Khoi attempts to sooth her. "Where's Chakra - Quark," she mumbles, "That - that... oh god." Yeah, Christy's gonna be pretty useless in negotiations.
"They won't be taking locks of your hair _anymore_. Shoulda clarified. Anyways, we gonna do this, Khoiboi? And afterwards how about you put on some Ted Nugent, love that guy." Racist, then. Maybe.
"Where did you frickin' come from, curly? The leaky tip of some dude's bangers and smash in your fat momma's slit," he replies to Bernard, strangely aggressive toward the littlest Chakravanti.
"Well, I need a new shrine. And a new house for my cousins. So let's make it happen. You ain't using your attic, right? They'll stay up there, you won't even see 'em, and then I'll go delete that guy's photos, and hide yer place. What's to hate?" A bottom-paw passes up the jar of pickles to a middle-paw. Many pours a little pickle juice into the chow mein. Mmmm. He takes another pawful, like worms in his grip, and stuffs his face. A bit drips out of the bottom onto his thorax.
"What?" _Anymore_? Khoi sort of -- reaches back to the back of his hair in a lowkey freakout. Oh, the chaos: he's got Christy losing her mind, he's barely holding onto his own, now Many Legs is coming after his precious boy! He can't even get offended at the Ted Nugent comment.
And that language! His lips nearly curl on an 'oh my God.'
"Many, Bernard is not familiar with spirits and ah, this is the very first time he's encountered something like this, please spare him some patience." He looks to Bernie, eyes pleading for a second. "I'll answer your questions, man, but, Many doesn't like uh, interruptions?"
He looks back at Many Legs. And then as soon as he hears 'attic', he's already saying no. No no no. "Counter-offer," he says. "Shrine in a _different_ building, like, uh, I know this spot with cool glowing mushrooms." He ends up looking at the space above Many's head, so he doesn't have to look at the ... Display.
Bernard looks taken aback by the cockroach's response but not enough to really flinch. It's likely from the shift in his body language that he's heard worse. There seems to be some recognition at the mention of spirits. His jaw tightens, holding back questions he seems inclined to wait for. The initiate nods at Khoi, crossing his arms over his chest while they talk.
"No problem. I'll move out immediately," Christy mutters under her breath as she interprets Many's offer, opening her eyes for a moment. "Bernard, how would you like a roommate. Two roomates - me and the cat. We would never call you names." She shivers and closes her eyes again.
"Just joshing about the hair, Khoiboi, most-ily," Many-legs says, opening the fridge to stuff the chow mein haphazardly back inside. He takes a few steps forward.
Quark's hairs all stand on end the moment he comes closer, tail fuzzed out and back arched. He hisses loudly.
Many's paws land on his 'hips' and he cleans off his face in an entirely insectoid way, wiping it with a paw and then cleaning that paw with his mandibles. Actually it is not unlike a cat cleaning itself, either. "Anyway, no frickin' way to that. Learned my lesson with the last time. Shrine's gonna be at the place that's gonna be hid, then you guys gotta vested interest in keepin' it safe. But if you don't wanna bargain, I can be on my way... 'less you got somethin' you want cheap."
Oh, Lord, no. Khoi grips tighter on Chrsity's wrist, afraid she'll just spirit away at the mere thought of Many moving in. "Okay, well, we need to make a new ah, chantry, and this house is _not_ going to be that new chantry, so, it should be a different building. What's ... the rest of the food in that fridge worth to you?" It's not like he'll be touching any of it.
Bernard manages a chuckle hearing Christy, "For sure dude." seeming at a loss for anything else to say in comfort for his friend. Looking back to ol' Many Legs to gauge the spirit's response to Khoi's counter offers, as much as one might be able to look past a spirit bug's poker face.
"I'm not kidding, I make a great housemate," Christy assures, "I'm a great cook and I keep everything /very/ clean, especially the kitchen, because, oh god, oh god, them... oh god... I just, I can't. This must be a bad dream. Right? Bernard, are you in this dream too? I'm not really here." Ah yes, disassociating. Too bad Dr. Mason C. already left!
"Judgin' by how your friends act like they seent a ghost, it's worth me just leavin' and not comin' back to this joint. But you know how ta get ahold of me," Many replies. Khoi does not actually know how to get ahold of him, of course. Someone might, though.
"Sure hope that guy hasn't followed any of ya around, comin' and going. Anyway, toodles," Many replies, and heads back toward the fridge to pop it open.
He does it slow enough that if SOMEONE were to make an offer he might stop before disappearing. The bluff.
Khoi sets his jaw as he hears Christy talk about leaving, and he sucks in a stressed breath to level himself. He squeezes Christy's wrist a little harder.
"I _don't_ know how to get a hold of you," Khoi reminds Many, the alarm and dismay in his voice a little mixture of all the ways he's feeling entirely robbed of control of his world.
"We will find you a different spot that we are invested in protecting. Are you fucking with me about them taking my _hair_? You can have the rest of the food in that fridge if you tell me more about this guy."
Bernard calls out to Christy in as a calming tone as he can manage, "Everything's cool dude. It's a flicker.". He looks over at Khoi asking if it's ok that he speaks up. Whatever recognition hit when he heard spirit seems to have built up some steam. Or at least he seems to think so. The initiate frowns watching Khoi looking disappointed about not being sure how to offer succor to his pseudo mentor.
Christy actually has run out of things to mumble. She opens her eyes again and stares, glassy eyed, at the giant roach as it moves through to the fridge and beyond. "We have to find out who - what's - who's watching the house," she says after a long pause.
"I'm taking the cat and going to LOS ANGELES!" Christy threatens, though it's a pretty idle threat as she continues to snuffle into Bernard's shoulder. "I don't want to live in a place where twenty two foot tall... THOSE... co-co-co... those things, no! No no no." She starts to tremble again. Someone has katsaridaphobia! D'aww. Christy clutches Bernard a little tighter. It might even be classified as low level groping, except she's not groping anything X-rated. Is it possible to grope an elbow?
"Okay, fine. A little, a little. They didn't take hair from your head while you were asleep. Does that make yah feel bettah?" Many says, a bit too specific. He pops open the fridge again and takes out a container of soy milk and starts drinking it. Since he does not have lips which would be useful for drinking, most of it pours down his front and onto the kitchen floor. "So this guy, he's across the way there through the blinds, and he's takin' photos of ya as you come and go and writin' stuff down. Times of day, faces and whatnot. Hey! D'you think he's friends with those guys who burnt your other place up? That'd be crazy, right? He does have that kinda culty look to 'im. Anyway, I guess I'll just take this stuff to go, if ya don't mind."
"I don't know how to contact you," Khoi repeats, "But take it to go and I will figure out how to contact you some other place and time. This house is not going to be the thing we focus on keeping as a collective, but there's plenty of potential for the next building. Now ah, thank you for the tip." He looks to Christy, and the thought of how long he's subjected her to this cockroach pains him, so he looks back to the spirit as Bernard tries to calm the woman. "Good bye, see you soon, just, not here."
Bernard shifts his body to face his friend, trying to send good vibes in her direction as the negotiations seem to be coming to a close. He looks over his shoulder frowning before focusing his attenion on Christy. He throws up his hands as if just realizing something and the weird shit is not in fact happening behind him. "Oh dude! I need to make an appointment! When you do you think you'll have time next? I need to finish off this thing I'm doing with like...a land mark?" he says obviously trying to give Christy something else to focus on.
"See ya at the tiddy bar, Khoiboi," Many says, and when the fridge door has shut again, he is gone.
"A thing... a thing..." Christy has short circuited, "An appointment..." Her voice catches and then she sort of slides down the wall to sit on the floor. Tears well up and slide down her face. "I'm so fucking - I'm such a goddamn - I ruined - I mean, I can move, if you want it to live here and protect the house. Someone's watching the house. I'll just take the cat." She rests her arms on her knees and buries her face in them.
Khoi deflates as the tension leaves him, but now he's got to throw up. Hrk, augh, he tried to look away from the way that -thing- drank soymilk with no lips. Right out the carton. Khoi snaps his eyes in Christy's direction when he hears 'move'. "What! Are you crazy? I have lived this many years without a spirit help, I do not need to change that, I _finally_ got you to --" Well, phrasing, Khoi. "Well! We finally moved in together!" Take the cat. Take the cat? Agh, you take the goldfish, I'll take the bowl, you take the dishes, while you're at it take my soul.
Khoi lets Bernard continue to distract Christy as he rushes to clean up after Many, to obliterate any reminder that he was here, starting with the spilled soy milk. Augh.
Bernard shuffles toward Christy's perch on the wall, his arms out stretched if she wanted but he stays a few feet back. At the very least he wants to block her view of Khoi while he has a chance to process and recover. After Khoi comes back he calls over his shoulder, "I have an idea when you're ready to hear it.". He mutters to himself, "Dude was a dick.". "Do you guys want to get a hotel? On me? I'd invite you over to my pad but I am still waiting for my credit check thingy.".
Christy leaps onto Bernard like he's a lifeboat and she's drowning. She shoves her face into his shoulder, shivering and mumbling. "I hate them... I can't - those things - I can't... I have to get out of here. To go somewhere, just... no. Not that."
Khoi winces. Kicks himself internally, even, for having opted to clean instead of comfort Christy. And if we're honest? He's also probably upset that he's not the one Christy's clinging onto, nevermind the sheer logical fact that he's over yonder and Bernard is *right there*. Our jealous mentor hurries up mopping up the puddle of soy milk, throws the rag in the garbage, and then hastily washes his hands as Bernard offers up a hotel. "He was a dick, he burnt my phone once when I first met him, which is why I said ah, what I did. He's got crazy electricity superpowers." Now, Khoi is sliding over to the two so he can crouch down next to Christy, putting out a hand to rub her back. "Em oi, Em oi, it's okay. He won't come back. He won't."
Bernard moves an arm out to invite Khoi into the hug pile if he is so inclined. "I feel you Christy, I'm down to go somewhere else.". He shifts his attention toward Khoi without shifting away from Christy, "Weird homies. I..." he looks down at his friend with a frown not seeming inclined to finish his thought outloud but the look he gives Khoi assures that there is more on his mind.
Yeah, Khoi chose poorly. Christy is glued to Bernard like super glue! Not that she minds the addition of Khoi to the cuddle puddle. But, she keeps on crying, albeit quietly. Obviously, she is not a FAN of cockroaches. "It'll be back - it always comes back. They're everywhere. Do you know how /hard/ I've tried to keep them out of here? Out of all the places I've lived? No, no. I can't stay here anymore, it's coming after me!"
Khoi takes on that invitation to the hugpile with an urgency suggesting he would probably have done it without the invitation. Here he comes, to hug and pet Christy. "Em oi, it won't be back. It won't be back. It's not a cockroach, it's a _spirit_, it just _looks_ like a cockroach. Cockroaches don't talk. Cockroaches don't have superpowers. It is not a cockroach. I understand it's scary. But it won't come back. I promise. It won't. One time, he said something about how making himself have a physical body actually sort of like, hurts him. He won't come back. Em oi, he will not come back."
Khoi huffs in a breath of air, then he levels it out. He signs at Bernard, pulling back just long enough to do so: 'She won't retain it'.
"Go ahead and ah, say what you want, we can always repeat it. I might need you to." Khoi then tries to pry Christy off of Bernard. "Christy. Christy. Look at me. Look at me. Breathe with me." He tries to pry, tries. Tries to get a hold of her face to make her look at him. "Come on, breathe in, and out. In, one, two thre -- Out, one two three. No - no, look. Christy? Christy. Breathe with me, in..."
Bernard hums some Miles Davis when Christy grips a little tighter. When Khoi pries her away he pats her shoulder on the release just to remind her that he is still there before resting that same hand on Khoi's shoulder a moment to send him the same message. "I think I can set up shrines. Like a network. If you think that asshole can help you guys be safe against whatever weird shit is watching you. I spoke to the Sun once...I think..I bet I could deal with that fucker too." tilting his head toward the kitchen chaos. Once fully released Bernie moves to where only Khoi can see him sign and asks in ASL, "Possible he is a narc?" referring to the spirit.
Christy is holding on tight, but she doesn't fight too much when Khoi pulls her off Bernard. Bernard gets away - this time. She takes those deep breaths, and then she's galvanized into motion, leaping fully up and rushing to find the cat, and a bottle of whiskey, not necessarily in that order. Does Christy drink herself into a stupor? Spoiler alert: yes.
Khoi helps Christy get through it with some breathing, and a moment of exhaustion nearly folds him when she gets up and he seems to realize she's coming down from it all. In the process of getting Christy to come down, he acknowledges Bernie's sign language with a quick little nod, but has to get the buggophobe to come down from the stratosphere first.
As Christy gets up and moves off, he looks to Bernie. He doesn't exactly want to chance reminding Christy of The Cockroach, so he signs it, hands going to action. "I don't know. Maybe? Probably not? He may be mad because he had his shrine destroyed and looking to one of us for a way back on track. If it's true someone watching across the street, though, you should not come here again, we will have to meet elsewhere."
Bernard looks at Christy walk away before nodding at Khoi. He signs, "I won't. I'll see if my thing will even work out. Text me..". Then he gets up and does his best to slip out without further upsetting Christy.
"They're going to follow you," Khoi warns, as he realizes Bernie's going to leave. "What about ah, you take the way out of the yard, and uh, you know, um." Khoi has never climbed the fence into the neighbor's yard, and he wonders about it. "Well, look, they're going to follow you, let me at least help you lose your tail."
Bernard mouths the word, "Fuck" before peaking out the blinds. He gives a nod to Khoi that is both consent and reassurance. In a whisper, "I'm aight at hopping fences.".
Khoi moves to the kitchen counter for his liquor cabinet Christy recently raided. He pulls down a bottle of liqueur, not at all remembering that Bernie's trying to stay dry, as he puts together some kind of weird elixir for the Sahajiya based on bacardi. He goes through his pantry cabinet, picking out some spices, some tea. "Here, ah, I need you to like just, loosen up with some sativa or something, and then you'll drink this. It's like, eighty percent confidence, alright?"
Bernard holds up a hand, "I'm like not fucking around with that shit right now. No offense. I got that confidence though.". He looks over his shoulder at a window, "It's cool I got this.". His gaze on the potion lingers a moment before he shakes his head. "I see that magick though...".
Whatever Khoi is putting together, it ain't exactly white gull and hellebore, but it will taste suitably awful. He stops, though, when he hears Bernard not 'fucking around', and has some trouble sort of piecing together what he's hearing. "What?" He stares at Bernard for a second, before he just throws the shot he's making into the sink. "Fine, okay, uhh, well, hold on." Back to the pantry cabinet we go. Khoi hits that electric kettle. "Christ, and cannabis is such a third eye opener," he mumbles. But he pulls out some dried lavender petals from a bag and starts steeping a tea. Hey, lavender tea! That's nice, right? Wait, what is this plant he's snipping leaves from, almost looks like miner's lettuce, but isn't? Whatever it is, he's chopping it up and it's going in. Bernard is getting some kind of weird brew to go be mr. Secret Squirrel.
Bernard wrinkles his nose as he chugs down whatever the back up potion is. After a gasp he admits, "I'm just trying to separate from my usual routine for like my clarity. I would rather have the cocktail bro. You know me." He gives Khoi another hug before sneaking back to his bed like a champ.
