Saffron had seen far better days. She had been scratching at the base of her tail for days, with no regard to decorum whatsoever, while her skin seemed loose, slick. The thicket of filaments that composed its fur had all flaked off, save for an oily, bushy brown spray at the very tip. If anything, the loss of fuzz revealed just how thick the limb was, almost as big around as her arm and twice as long as her waist's circumference. The skin beneath was soft and, as far as she could tell, simply pale from lack of sunlight. Of course, it'd been overcast, and the majority of her week was spent in her ill-lit office and a series of warehouses converted into hellish factories and bizarre workshops made for tiny, rodent-sized hands. She ran her fingers through the matted, greasy line of her mohawk as the other hand rapped on the door to a very particular lakeside mortuary-turned-home, surrounded at its edges with a tangle of viciously cultivated rugosa meant for chewing up tank treads. Perhaps even more unusual was her visit during daytime hours, as her coworker whom resided within quite pointedly held hours best considered the "graveyard shift."
Though hardly audible from the outside, Rivers the bull terrier's sleepy, yet steady bark rattled through the house, awakening the tubby ball of tuxedo cat who stretched over the kitchen floor. A very different ball of fur, copper, with insectile eyes and an array of serrated bear-trap teeth hopped up next to the dog, emitting its own combination of whirrs and yip-beeps at the door. The pair parted around a steady stride of combat boot on hardwood floor, boards creaking still from the size of the approaching person, yet distributed extraordinarily well across them. With one hand, Geist took the door's handle, drawing it open with a careful, backwards tilt, while his leg blocked the terrier's excitement-driven dreams of escape. His brow creased as he sent hid attention down to the bedraggled-looking detective, along with a smaller, less luminous pair of eyes peeping googly-eyed from beneath a thin mop of bright red hair and fussy, dimple-knuckled hands spastically splatting and thumping against the Revenant's chest. "Erh... good day, Miss Jensen-Lefevre." He glanced behind to check on Rivers, whom had started his nigh-interminable spin clockwise in place. "Do come in."
"Uh..." Saffron immediately ceased scratching as the door creaked open, her lower lip and ears dropping nervously as at least three extra sets of eyes than what she had anticipated peered at her approach. Her toes scrunched in her Converse low-tops while her fingers curled at her sides, newly-brittle nails digging into the sturdy, elbow-length wrist guards that she tended to wear for more aggressive security details. She stepped around the door and nudged it closed with her heel, blinking in the partial light of the house. "So... yah, hey..." The odd lighting, the odder furniture, and Rivers twirling in circles gave out a strong Lynchian vibe during her glance around, drawing her shoulders nervously up as she looked to the enormous man cradling his tiny baby son in his arm. "Well--" Saffron reached up to scratch her cheek, yet stopped before letting nail reach skin, fingers hooking on air before folding in to rest against her shoulder. "I uhm... I think I'm molting, or something, and I'm not like... 100% sure if that's supposed to happen." Her lips drew flat as her moon-white tail coiled stiffly behind her, the little indents in her brow betraying her apprehension.
Geist seemed transfixed by some far-off point as he listened to Saffron, rocking his little baby back and forth, back and forth, until the infant's own violet eyes eased shut. "Do pardon me for a moment. I've to put Godric to bed." He offered her a glance over a broad, bare shoulder as he trudged down the hall, secreting away into one of the rooms for a spell, then returned, stretching tree-trunk arms as he passed the stairwell, and arrived in the living room once more, hands at his hips and blacklight eyes still indirect. "To answer your inquiry, yes; this is a natural progression, if a bit belated. You might recall that the conditions of your arrival had as much to do with favors owed, as well as the notion that you carried a.. 'spiritual sickness,' I think we had called it?"
Saffron finally did indulge in a scratch to the rubbery scar tissue that ran across the bridge of her nose as she listened to Geist, an arm crossing over her solar plexus while her heels turned out. Her tail swayed behind her, making all pieces of her apprehension clear. "Yeah... but I had my head turned around like... six ways to Sunday. F***." The LCD flash in the back of her pupils had dimmed to a dull, cataract-like gleam, occasionally flickering either green or gold in the low light. "I'm not radioactive or anything, right?" Saffron winced as her ears pinned back, her slim brows steepled in a silent plead to the white-haired mass of muscle before her.
Geist burst into a slow, rumbling laugh, stifling it behind his lips after a few bars and a glance back to his son's room, and another to the startled look that the fat Scottish Fold cat sent him from the kitchen. Clearing his throat, he shook his head, taking a step back to angle himself towards the stairwell. "Erh, forgive me. No, you pose no undue or unseen danger to your constituents." As he started his stride towards the basement, he raised a hand to beckon to Saffron behind him. "Come. I've quite a bit to show you, in regards to this."
She set both her arms crossed at the peal of laughter, sighing through her nose with a rumble in her sinuses. It seemed to rattle just a bit more than she had expected, like a coffee pot firing up. She blinked hard before starting in her stroll behind Geist, her lower jaw jutting forward ponderously. "I suspect one: that you've been waiting to do something like this for ages; two: you're gonna make me a captive audience to this s***; three: I'm gonna need a bath when I get home."
"Precisely." Geist drew open the door to the basement and disappeared through the ink-black threshold, to the bizarre zone he so flippantly called his laboratory.
Though hardly audible from the outside, Rivers the bull terrier's sleepy, yet steady bark rattled through the house, awakening the tubby ball of tuxedo cat who stretched over the kitchen floor. A very different ball of fur, copper, with insectile eyes and an array of serrated bear-trap teeth hopped up next to the dog, emitting its own combination of whirrs and yip-beeps at the door. The pair parted around a steady stride of combat boot on hardwood floor, boards creaking still from the size of the approaching person, yet distributed extraordinarily well across them. With one hand, Geist took the door's handle, drawing it open with a careful, backwards tilt, while his leg blocked the terrier's excitement-driven dreams of escape. His brow creased as he sent hid attention down to the bedraggled-looking detective, along with a smaller, less luminous pair of eyes peeping googly-eyed from beneath a thin mop of bright red hair and fussy, dimple-knuckled hands spastically splatting and thumping against the Revenant's chest. "Erh... good day, Miss Jensen-Lefevre." He glanced behind to check on Rivers, whom had started his nigh-interminable spin clockwise in place. "Do come in."
"Uh..." Saffron immediately ceased scratching as the door creaked open, her lower lip and ears dropping nervously as at least three extra sets of eyes than what she had anticipated peered at her approach. Her toes scrunched in her Converse low-tops while her fingers curled at her sides, newly-brittle nails digging into the sturdy, elbow-length wrist guards that she tended to wear for more aggressive security details. She stepped around the door and nudged it closed with her heel, blinking in the partial light of the house. "So... yah, hey..." The odd lighting, the odder furniture, and Rivers twirling in circles gave out a strong Lynchian vibe during her glance around, drawing her shoulders nervously up as she looked to the enormous man cradling his tiny baby son in his arm. "Well--" Saffron reached up to scratch her cheek, yet stopped before letting nail reach skin, fingers hooking on air before folding in to rest against her shoulder. "I uhm... I think I'm molting, or something, and I'm not like... 100% sure if that's supposed to happen." Her lips drew flat as her moon-white tail coiled stiffly behind her, the little indents in her brow betraying her apprehension.
Geist seemed transfixed by some far-off point as he listened to Saffron, rocking his little baby back and forth, back and forth, until the infant's own violet eyes eased shut. "Do pardon me for a moment. I've to put Godric to bed." He offered her a glance over a broad, bare shoulder as he trudged down the hall, secreting away into one of the rooms for a spell, then returned, stretching tree-trunk arms as he passed the stairwell, and arrived in the living room once more, hands at his hips and blacklight eyes still indirect. "To answer your inquiry, yes; this is a natural progression, if a bit belated. You might recall that the conditions of your arrival had as much to do with favors owed, as well as the notion that you carried a.. 'spiritual sickness,' I think we had called it?"
Saffron finally did indulge in a scratch to the rubbery scar tissue that ran across the bridge of her nose as she listened to Geist, an arm crossing over her solar plexus while her heels turned out. Her tail swayed behind her, making all pieces of her apprehension clear. "Yeah... but I had my head turned around like... six ways to Sunday. F***." The LCD flash in the back of her pupils had dimmed to a dull, cataract-like gleam, occasionally flickering either green or gold in the low light. "I'm not radioactive or anything, right?" Saffron winced as her ears pinned back, her slim brows steepled in a silent plead to the white-haired mass of muscle before her.
Geist burst into a slow, rumbling laugh, stifling it behind his lips after a few bars and a glance back to his son's room, and another to the startled look that the fat Scottish Fold cat sent him from the kitchen. Clearing his throat, he shook his head, taking a step back to angle himself towards the stairwell. "Erh, forgive me. No, you pose no undue or unseen danger to your constituents." As he started his stride towards the basement, he raised a hand to beckon to Saffron behind him. "Come. I've quite a bit to show you, in regards to this."
She set both her arms crossed at the peal of laughter, sighing through her nose with a rumble in her sinuses. It seemed to rattle just a bit more than she had expected, like a coffee pot firing up. She blinked hard before starting in her stroll behind Geist, her lower jaw jutting forward ponderously. "I suspect one: that you've been waiting to do something like this for ages; two: you're gonna make me a captive audience to this s***; three: I'm gonna need a bath when I get home."
"Precisely." Geist drew open the door to the basement and disappeared through the ink-black threshold, to the bizarre zone he so flippantly called his laboratory.