There's always a little bit of...[OPEN]

[FRAZLE]

A gasp escaped her lush, raspberry colored lips as Darcy ran into the corner of the silver island in the middle of the kitchen. Her tan hands reached down fondly, cradling her hip. She had only been here for awhile, and while venturing through out the building she had stumbled upon the kitchen. It's counters were cool and a dark shade of marble, soft to the touch of her fingers and palms of her hands as she ran them along the kitchen surface. It was quite a small kitchen, big, but small for a living area. Out of the corner of her silver-blue eyes she could see a metal door, its mysteriousness drawing her towards it. Her hand dropped to her side as she walked towards the door, gripping its cold handle. She gave a soft nudge. Nothing. "Uh!" She grunted, pushing with her shoulder. The metal door swung open, revealing a thin, rectangular room. Meat room, that was. The temperature had to be below freezing, and she grabbed her arms, but ignored it otherwise. All kinds of meats hung from the ceiling; lamb, turkey, steak, ribs, even fish. Just staring at it made her mouth water. She had gotten use to the idea of eating raw meat without being scared awhile ago, but even when bit into her meal, she felt a little rush of excitement and fear. Her amusement was soon gone, and she stepped out of the room and turned back towards the kitchen. Their was a silver basket on the square island, a banana, apple, and a couple of oranges organized. She grabbed the apple. She wasn't too thrilled about eating fruit, but she bit into it anyway. Juice flowed through her mouth and down her chin, and she quickly wiped it away with her white sports shirt. She wasn't dressed to impress anybody today, wearing dark blue skinny jeans, tan Uggs. She continued to walk through the kitchen, opening the stainless steel fridge.

It was basically food paradise. Stocked with tons of fruits, yogurts, veggies, and tons of other exotic foods and food choices for different shifters. Darcy placed the apple on the counter, rubbing her eyes. She had stayed up pretty late last night, and even though it was only around 7 o'clock she was unusually tired. Footsteps echoed from outside, and suddenly her heart rate when up. The playful predator in her awakened, ready to pounce on anybody who walked through the door. She wouldn't be surprised if a tail grew on her rump, because she was so excited. Yes, she was shy. She hadn't met anyone, except Peach, in this building. And if they didn't like her, all they had to was decide it, shift, and who knows what they could become. She smiled, revealing straight, ivory teeth. Her smile seemed to brighten up the whole kitchen. Darcy propped her elbow on the counter, drumming the counter top with her other hand and, waiting impatiently for somebody to come.

[TETRIS]

ACHILLE XAVIER

---

Peach Greene oft enforced the sibling nature of MyShift's two apartments: Origin and Verge. "You're welcome at either," was the implicit motto of sorts, and something that Achille took full advantage of. In his own cottage, he hardly had company (only new tenants, the masochistic, or the insane ever cared to visit him) and without people, without a living, breathing audience that could fuel him with its reaction to his flamboyance, Achille very quickly became restless and bored.

He decided he would visit the Verge kitchen, where his arachnid and insect diet never failed to elicit the most fascinating responses. And having made up his mind, Achille flounced through the door of the residence, past Gladstone's room (making sure to flutter his fingertips in a coy, rather lascivious wave at the man) and then into the kitchen where ... someone was waiting for him?

Achille spent enough time around shifters to guess quite accurately at their bestial counterparts; he made a hobby of copying their most animal features, and passing himself off as other species. Cat-girl, from the way she was almost poised to pounce, her rump eagerly tensed and her eyes alert.

"Me-ow," he purred, waggling his eyebrows at her. "How thoughtful of you to wait for me! Get me a beer while you're at it, sweetheart." Achille drifted past Darcy, straight to the dark cupboard where jam jars carried fried grasshoppers (and other jars, hidden in the back, held live centipedes, but he saved those for the hardy of constitution). Having retrieved one, he stepped back out, brushing past Darcy with a quick grab at her ass, blowing her a kiss with the hand that held his snack.

He settled the jar on the counter, standing next to her, and then popped the lid off, tossing the crunchy delicacy into his mouth, grinning and holding Darcy's gaze, before looping his left arm across his waist and pulling her close to him. "What're you doing up so late, darling? Can't sleep?"

Achille didn't know her; she was practically a stranger. But it was all part of his deranged way of greeting others, to pretend that they were life-long acquaintances, practically former lovers. It tended to really bother people, and he smiled beatifically at this girl now.

[FRAZLE]

"Me-ow, how thoughtful of you to wait for me! Get me a beer while you're at it, sweetheart." Darcy rollde her eyes, not in annoyance, but in a playful manner. True, she didn't know who the hell this man was; for all she knew, he could just be trying to get in her pants, or just a little over confident. Her heart pounded against her rib cage as she dropped her hand from her chin, letting it sink down beside her bare waist. She handn't assumed she would see anybody, thats why her white 'presicion' shirt was slightly to small, and showed some of her tan, hourglass hips. She ran her fingers through her hair, backing away slightly and gliding over to the stainless steel fridge. It was a fridge on the top, and rather then the freezer being on the left side, it was quite the contrary; it was located on the bottom, beneath the fridge. She wrapped her knuckles around the black handle bar, pulling it open. Her eyes squeezed shut, before opening again. It was like a color blast, with all the different foods. She did love color, but having cat dna, she did have some traits, even in her human form. And one of those would be her very good eye sight, but her pupils got irritated at unneccasiry bright colors. Her palm felt through the side, shaping different wine bottles, steak stauces, salad dressings, and so on. Her eyes caught onto 4 cans, silver and blue, beers. She grabbed two of them, shutting the fridge and walking back over to the man. She didn't drink much, just a few beers and wine bottles through out her life. She was caught drinking one of her masters beers once when she was 15, and instead of being reported, he decided to teach her his own way. She flinched slightly when Achille grabbed her waist. She use to embrace it, or hate it. And she chose to embrace it momentarily.

She could, of course, say 'No, how about you sleep with me?' or something around that, but she didn't want to come off as a slut, no matter how attractive the man was, and she could, after all, be living with him. "Late? This is pretty early for me." She giggled. She didn't go to bed until 4, maybe 2, and often slept in late. But sometimes she would go to bed early. She hadn't even looked at the time, thinking it was only 11, maybe 12 at the post. She turned towards Achille, watching him eat the squirming insect in his hands. She bit her lip, trying to get the image on that out of her head. "You eat those?" She asked, not caring if it sounded rude. She could be polite, but most of the time, she chose not to, unless she was talking to the Qeen of England, or something like that. She leaned over the counter, grabbing the jar full of crickets and spiders. She hated spiders. And she couldn't imagine eating one. But she couldn't help but let her untamed, curious side wonder what they taste like. What happened if you ate a poisinous spider, would she die? Curiousty killed the cat. she thought in her head. Thats what her fair master had said a lot to her, even when she hadn't asked anything. She opened her beer, pushing the spare one closer to Achille. And then, timidly, she twisted back around his grasp, facing the stranger.

[TETRIS]

ACHILLE XAVIER

---

How curious. The girl actually got him a beer. His eyebrows rose, revealing a thin line where his metallic amber streaks of eye-shadow ended, blurring into tanned skin, as he watched her walk to the refrigerator, not failing to notice the rapid pulses of her ribcage, nor her slight flinch as he grabbed her.

Well, he didn't actually drink, but now it would be just heartless to let the kind gesture go to waste. And he didn't plan to break her heart. Yet. "That's not healthy. You're missing out on all that beauty sleep, toots."

She took his diet surprisingly well, so Achille decided to up to he ante. As she twisted to face him, he let go of her waist, tipped the jar open, and had flicked a locust out with slender fingers, bringing it to her lips with a quick smooth casual motion.

"You should too. Lots of protein, sweetheart. And sleep. Daddy says to go to bed early now." He sipped the beer, indifferent to the starchy liquid on his tongue but faintly disappointed at the lack of sugar. Rum; now, there was something he could go for. Achille lent his weight on one elbow, propped on the table, and rested his other hand in the pocket of his navy bathrobe as he slouched against the counter-top and smiled bemusedly.

"Like the touch, kitten," he offered, eyeing the gold locket she wore, to follow up her gaze with his left hand, which strayed away from his side up to her neck. Though his fingers fiddled with the chain and its baggage, he watched her eyes, then grinned with genuine mirth, the corners of his own visionaries crinkling. "Ah, ah, you should lend this to me; matches my socks nicely, no?"

He wasn't wearing any socks; Achille didn't wear socks, and tended to stray around outdoors without shoes. They just didn't appeal to him - great leather boats compromising the delicate shape of his feet, in his opinion.

Idle whittling away of the hours, spent in conversation, lost its appeal and Achille stepped round the girl, but just barely so that he felt the warmth of her skin, and stepped over to the pantry again, having lost his interest in fried corpses. A slight frown crossed his brow, a fleeting mock pout. Of course, since he didn't live here, he had no say in the supply stock. Earlier calculations seem to have been premature, as no live centipedes awaited him.

"Eh, seems I'll need to find the tom-cat of these joints." Gladstone, man in charge of the building, would have to keep a better inventory. Achille would make sure of it. "Looks like he's going to be the only 'fresh' thing I’m going to be able to get my hands on. Save for you m'love." He'd circled back now, and touched one finger to Darcy's nose, just to make the full meaning of his statement clear.

[FRAZLE]

( sorry if i have a lot of misspelled words. it's about to be 2 A.M here. Getting ready for bed. )

She brushed a hand over the loose french braid that she wore in her hair. The dim light in the kitchen buzzed, radiating a caramel tent on her hair. Her blue eyes timidly and curiously as Achille opened the can with pre-caution. She giggled, propping her elbows on the counter and peering inside the jar full of creepy-crawlies, as she use to say when she was just a little girl learning the meager vocabulary the Workhouse had to offer. She brushed a hand quickly over her face; just looking at the bugs made her feel itchy, dead or alive. She then turned her golden streaked head around, facing the other counter tops and door that led too the lobby, or so she thought. "I'll make up to it in the day," She laughed, half joking, half serious. Most of the time, she could sleep till 2 or later, no matter how early she went to bed. But sometimes when she wasn't feeling totally abandoned of sleep or wanting to block out the world, she set her alarm for not to early, but to where she could wake up, still squeeze in breakfast, and get on with her day of usually lounging around, maybe walking to the city and shopping or flirting. Or something her brother. She had only been in the apartments for a couple of days, but she had been living in the outskirts for a week or so.

Darcy's eyes widened with shock and disgust as the locust was just centimeters away from her face; no, not only, but her mouth. What if it slipped? She shuddered and grabbed his wrist, pushing it gently away to where the bug wasn't 1 inch away from her tanned face. She didn't mind holding them, but when they could jump down her shirt or into her mouth or some place else on her body, thats when she created a territorial line. She certainly didn't fancy eating a roasted cricket or squirming locust anytime soon. She shrugged when he grabbed the golden locket that was strung around her neck. She had had it her whole life and she planned on keeping it that way. Never, never would she give it away. Not even if it cost her life. If she did pass away, at least it went with her. Even though she felt uncomfortable inside, she reassured herself he wasn't getting it. Not only because she wouldn't let him, but because he was most likely purely joking. And even if he tried to take it, he couldn't get it without being mauled. She cleared her thoughts, looking down at his feet.

"You're not wearing socks. But even if you did, it still wouldn't look as good." She teased, spinning around to where her back faced him. She wrinkled her nose as she touched it, and spun back around to where her chest and stomach were facing not the fridge or him, but the other counter tops and cabinets in front. It was almost the same as the other counter; but there was no sink and there were a couple of letters and bills thrown across it's granite counter top. She bit her lip, fingering at the golden chain.