[Fleas simply haven't developed a taste for vampire blood, luckily for Cassidy.]
As if you wouldn't be happy with battery acid.
[He pours out small drinks for both the raccoon and himself, not that he's likely to drink much of his, but it's rude to let the varmint drink alone etc. He pauses, drink halfway to his lips, looking a bit askance. Speaking of rude.]
Please tell me we're not going to swap bedroom stories about Raina.
[The moment he sees that drink he's making little grabby hands for it, eager as ever to get some alcohol inside him. Eccarius is right, battery acid probably wouldn't have been turned down either.]
I'm just makin' conversation! Shared interest and that. You got a better thing to be talking about?!
[He's wondering idly if the raccoon will have Cassidy's tolerance for alcohol, or if a couple of sips will do him in, putting him more in Eccarius' league.]
Not really. Still, it seems a bit rude to the lady.
Christ, I don't think she'd mind about that mate. With any luck she'd teach us both a lesson in manners, if y'know what I mean, eh?
[One track mind, this raccoon, snickering into his alcohol as he slurps at it, ends up spilling some down himself, then decides to lap at the drink instead. Existing as an animal is a hassle.]
[Watching Cassidy's awkwardness, Eccarius is beginning to wonder if he's forgotten how to change back. Or perhaps he's just enjoying the novelty too much. In any event, it's a little weird for him being human and hanging around with a talking animal; usually it's the other way around. But there's an easy solution—
...and then suddenly he's gone and there's a small black cat there instead, who jumps up on the sofa and settles down next to other animal. Furry friends ahoy.]
[The novelty is certainly part of it, he wont lie, but also this whole shapeshifting stuff is tough work. He's just had to do several to stalk Eccarius back here and fly, that's a whole bunch of effort for a newbie.]
Ah, y'little furry bastard. Yer gonna get fur all over the couch!
[Because clearly Mr. Scraggly fur over here won't, for he is innocent and has never done anything wrong in his life.]
[Now that's a new experience, but also kinda cute.]
Ah, christ, now you're getting your spit all over me.
[Not that he's resisting, in fact he's just kneading his spindly little fingers against the kitty. Sure is soothing to an animal around to pet, definitely calms his nerves some at least, even with anxiety still balled in his chest.]
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I know what I like, mate, nothin' wrong with that.
[He looks around the familiar apartment like he's half expecting to see something different about it now that he knows Eccarius is staying there.]
She tried the vines on yeh yet, mate? Those things sure bring somethin' extra to the bedroom.
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As if you wouldn't be happy with battery acid.
[He pours out small drinks for both the raccoon and himself, not that he's likely to drink much of his, but it's rude to let the varmint drink alone etc. He pauses, drink halfway to his lips, looking a bit askance. Speaking of rude.]
Please tell me we're not going to swap bedroom stories about Raina.
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I'm just makin' conversation! Shared interest and that. You got a better thing to be talking about?!
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Not really. Still, it seems a bit rude to the lady.
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Christ, I don't think she'd mind about that mate. With any luck she'd teach us both a lesson in manners, if y'know what I mean, eh?
[One track mind, this raccoon, snickering into his alcohol as he slurps at it, ends up spilling some down himself, then decides to lap at the drink instead. Existing as an animal is a hassle.]
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...and then suddenly he's gone and there's a small black cat there instead, who jumps up on the sofa and settles down next to other animal. Furry friends ahoy.]
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Ah, y'little furry bastard. Yer gonna get fur all over the couch!
[Because clearly Mr. Scraggly fur over here won't, for he is innocent and has never done anything wrong in his life.]
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[Shut up and be cute with him, will you?]
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[He's still cradling his drinks as he stretches out an arm and paws for Eccarius. Gotta pet the kitty, even when the same size and euqally fluffy.]
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Ah, christ, now you're getting your spit all over me.
[Not that he's resisting, in fact he's just kneading his spindly little fingers against the kitty. Sure is soothing to an animal around to pet, definitely calms his nerves some at least, even with anxiety still balled in his chest.]
So...
... We good?
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[Cass gets a wash, Eccarius gets a massage. Ahhhh.]
Yes, we're good. I might even lick your bollocks for you.
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Oh, a real romantic there, heh.
[A little varmint sniff.]
It's good to be talkin', like. Bollocks or not.