maskormenacelogs | [SEMI-OPEN]

WHO: Trubel, open to other #027 residents and #023 residents!!
WHERE: Heropa, Residence #027 & Residence #023
WHEN: September! Specify dates in subjects if needed
WHAT: Trubel failing to avoid her housemates or Nick's
WARNINGS: None!

#027

[It's been a month, and it still hasn't settled right. Trubel would feel bad about it, worry about her mental state, but she's pretty convinced it's everyone else that's crazy for just accepting being kidnapped here. Not that she has any idea how to fight that. Used to be that running away was her best option for fixing things, but she's done running.

Not to mention there's nowhere to go.

So she goes along with aspects of it. The job, the house, though she isn't sure how long either will stick with her refusing to register. A month and her roommates are still strangers, but she's been keeping it that way, staying in her room most of the time that she's home, had spent a while straight up avoiding venturing out if she heard anyone moving around.

Things have eased up a little since then, hating feeling like she was hiding. But she still isn't particularly social, only likely to be caught on her way in or out from work, or almost burning the kitchen down trying to cook something.]

#023

[Going to twenty-three to see Nick is almost regular by now, but it wasn't like she'd stopped to be introduced to his roommates at any point, given them pretty much the same wide berth as her own. But failing to call ahead to let Nick know she's coming over leaves things open for anyone to be opening the door when she knocks, and she sets her mouth hard at the realisation.

She's holding a bag of Chinese takeaway in one arm, contemplating trying to juggle it to fish her phone out of her pocket, all in all making her look like she might just be another disgruntled delivery kid.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Mitchell does not bother with the door very much, just as he does not bother with many aspects of this communal living experience. Not that him ignoring the door actually much matters. His only visitors are a string of delivery boys delivering various forms of takeaway.

Or, in this case, delivery girls. A little diversity in the ranks is always a good thing--even vampires appreciate it, though not necessarily in arguably 'right' ways, depending on who you're asking--it's good to see some stereotypes being destroyed. And before he's even thought about it, Mitchell goes for his wallet, and then realises that he hasn't, actually, ordered anything this afternoon. Came home from his shift at the old folk's home and then fell asleep and woke up to a knock at the door, but there were no phone calls for Chinese anywhere in there.]

Hang on, you've--

[When he looks at the girl, really properly well and truly looks at her, he realises just how wrong he was. This is no takeaway delivery, although what it is, exactly, he doesn't know. First thought: vampire, and who wouldn't think that when he glimpses her black eyes--but the read is all wrong, too much heartbeat and blood and stuff.

Disturbed, Mitchell steps back, like retreating indoors is going to give him some protecting. Maybe that's the lingering impression of vampirism; surely it's false hope, thinking maybe she'll need the invite in, but black eyes, that's what he defaults to--]

What the hell--

[Between everything she's dealing with in the moment the door opens, the fact she's going to have to explain that she's here to see Nick, and that she hasn't actually seen any Wesen in her entire time here, Trubel really isn't expecting to see this guy woge. It doesn't even look like a full woge, though, just the eyes and maybe his teeth, when he speaks. For a split second she thinks maybe another Grimm, but she's never seen Nick's eyes, and the retreat is a different kind of reaction.

It's probably a good thing her arms are full of Chinese food. It's probably a good thing she doesn't have her machete on her.]

What are you? [He's backing away rather than attacking, and that's at least something she can use, taking a step forward as if it was still possibly to be intimidating like this. But he's in Nick's house and she's worried, immediately, about what the hell is going on.] What are you doing here?

[It is definitely good that she doesn't have her machete on her.

She steps right into the house, and he hasn't got much further back to retreat, not unless he actually wants to run off. Which would certainly solve the problem, but the thought of it rankles at his pride, who does she think she is--but there's nothing to be gained, thinking like that, and he wrestles down that instinct to bristle right along with every other bad instinct cloying in him--]

I live here. [He holds up his hands, an act that's sort of disparate with his sharp, defensive tone.] All right? I live here. And I'm guessing you're here for Nick. Who I know, 'cause he lives here too.

[A beat; some of his sarcasm fades as he makes sense of what's got her arms so occupied.]

Is that Chinese?

Yeah.

[The answer's a little delayed, her expression still sharply suspicious even as she stops moving towards him. If he lived here, wouldn't she have seen him before? Wouldn't Nick have said something?]

It's for Nick. [As if protecting the food from being stolen and eaten was really the problem here.] Does he know you're a...?

[Because he hadn't answered, hadn't told her what type of Wesen he was. She hasn't seen it before, doesn't remember it from the books, but even with how thoroughly she'd fallen into devouring them since Nick had let her into the trailer, she knows it'd take a lifetime to read all of them.]

Yeah, yeah.

[He hurries to fill that little silence, just in case she jumps to any further conclusions. Maybe he should just come right out and tell her what he is, not a Wesen, but direct confession still feels weird. Not that it matters. He's got a write-up with the government, his whole supernatural status, it's not as secret as it should be. So maybe it's just stubbornness, or trying to extricate some control over the situation, that has him keeping his mouth shut on the actual truth.]

He knows. All right? He knows, he's helped me out. You can ask him all about it whenever he gets back--

[Over... Chinese? What is this, actually, and now that he feels less likely to be staked (or whatever the Grimm-method equivalent of that is), the relative weirdness of this is starting to dawn on Mitchell--]

Sorry-- who are you?

[SEMI-OPEN]

#023 ey girl i'm jumping into Grimm stuff lmk if I am assuming things in error--!!!!!

rolls in late and gathers this up

gathers YOU up

wriggles!!

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