(2018-03-19) Midnight Snack
Midnight Snack
Summary: Eric catches Sue in his house, stealing his food. And his cutlery. And his sanity.
Date: IC Date (2018-03-19)
Related: None
Player Characters: Eric, Sue

Pickman Estate


The kitchen is the most modern room in the opulent home. It bears a large range stove with a glass top and a two door freezer and fridge combination that opens outward. An island with a marble countertop sits in the center of the kitchen, two barstools set next to it. A rounded, antique table sits near a lanai window with a flowering poinsetta that bursts with color. The table is surrounded by four high-backed wooden chairs. There is a great deal of cabinet space in the kitchen, along with a walk-in pantry for storing dry goods.

It's late at night, the house is quiet, the lights all out. Sue assumes no one is home again - she's been here before, never using a door but walking right through the walls. She knows someone lives here, but isn't too concerned as they have never been home before when she's come by, but also because there is always such good food in there. Feeling greedy, she's already packed up a large tupperware container to take home later She also has a pretty big plate just going into the microwave. She seems very familiar with the settings.

Eric is in fact awake. Or he /was/ asleep, but then his cat (a scruffy beaten up old one) woke him up. He doesn't realise his kitchen is being raided as he puts on a robe and slips into his slippers, yawning widely as he wanders downstairs. He's not really stomping around, so maybe she doesn't even hear him or suspect him as he walks to the kitchen and turns the lights on. The last thing Eric expects is someone helping themselves to his lunch for tomorrow.

To be fair, she probably doesn't expect a man with big curly hair, almost a beard, boxer shorts, slippers and a blue morning robe wander into her 'food sanctum' either.

Eric freezes and just stares.

Sue's ears flatten and her tail bristles unseen as she jumps and blinks at the light coming on. She turns around and she's all bog eyes and smiles. "Uh hi!" She says warmly, like she's supposed to be there, all the while edging closer to the tupperware container. "This is all a dream. Oooh." She wiggles her fingers at him. "Nothing to see here! You were just hungry and fixed yourself a snack! Ding! See, there goes the microwave. All ready. I'll just let you eat!" She talks rapidly and reaches for the tupperware. "Just eat and then go to sleep. Oh! Maybe have some hot chocolate. That's nice before sleeping. I can't have hot chocolate, so you should. No wait! Forget that! You CAN have hot chocolate, and you should! Dream. OooooOoooh!"

Eric just stands there like a dope, blinking slowly. He raises a hand and puts fingers over his eyes for a moment, then opens them again. As if to make sure he is, in fact, not dreaming. "If you are a ghost, you're a terrible, terrible ghost." His voice is flat. He snatches up the nearest implement he can find from a big jar on the counter near him; a spatula. He holds it up threateningly at her. "I swear, if you were sent here by my boss, I will complain to ER. Is this some test?"

"No not a ghost. I'm a dream. Unless you dream about ghosts, then I am totally a ghost!" The young woman proclaims as she stuffs the container in to the large bag slung over her shoulder. "OoooOooh." She wiggles her fingers at him. She looks seriously at the spatula for all of five seconds before she looses it with a snort of laughter. "Seriously? A spatula?! Dude, that won't work on a ghost!" She giggles happily and then her eyes widen. "Test? Yes! This is absolutely a test! And you are failing so hard, dude."

Eric eyes the spatula too and hurriedly puts it back. He's hardly relaxed, but since this girl-woman-person isn't attacking him, maybe he'll come out of this alive. He points a finger at her, and says through gritted teeth: "That is my lunch. I always eat thai curry on Sunday evenings, and have it for lunch on Monday." He's not falling for her attempts to fool him here. "So, if this is a test, what is my boss' name?" he asks, smiling smugly.

Sue relaxes a little when the spatula is put away and glances around the kitchen before looking at the man man in his pjs. "Duuude." She says with a grin. "This is a test, right? So I ask the questions silly, not you!" She grins and moves a little closer, looking him over. "You must be really tired still. Geez! Let's start at the beginning! Okay? Okay! What's your name?"

Eric inches backwards nervously as she moves closer; he pulls his robe tight around himself and ties it up, hard. Prudish. "I am wide awake. In fact, I was sleeping and planned on going right back to sleep after getting a glass of water. I did not expect to find a… a…" He's at a loss for words, grinding his teeth. "I would prefer a ghost over this, any night."

He looks her over in return, properly (while keeping a safe distance, he'll inch backwards for every inch closer she moves). "Eric. My name is Eric and /I/ live here. You don't. If I give you money to go buy your own food, will you go away?"

Sue stops when she sees him inching away, her ears unseen to him perking up at the offer of money. "Sure! How much money are we talking about?" She opens up her bag, hand on the container, though she doesn't take it out of the bag just yet and frowns. "Heeeey! You don't have any money, you're in your pajamas!"

Busted. Still, Eric tries to fake it. "Of course not. I have to go, uh, up to the bedroom and get my wallet." And there'll be a phone up there too. Even so, he's not running away. Maybe he's a tad curious here.

"You know what, you can have the food," he says with a sigh, running a hand through those messy curls. "As far as crazy go, this isn't even on my top twenty yet. Now, I'm actually mostly concerned that you managed to break in in the first place."

Sue frowns again and lifts her hand from her bag and crosses her arms over her chest. Unseen her ears flatten to her head and her tail swishes, annoyed. "I am not crazy and whoever told you that is crazy!" She proclaims and stomps her foot, but then right away she's smiling. "Oh I can't tell you that, sorry! Or maybe I can?" She tilts her head to the side. "What do you see when you look at me?" She asks, suddenly serious. She pulls up her tail and starts stroking the end of it.

Eric's expression turns blank and he blinks slowly again. "Yes, I can of course tell that you are not crazy. Not at all," he notes with that flat, sarcastic voice. He clearly wouldn't last long in a rough bar, his mouth would get him punched in about ten seconds. "I see a small woman with pretty face, beauty marks, lots of makeup - I actually rather like how you did that, very anime - a bit of a rebellious fashion perhaps. The gloves are a nice touch. But you do leave finger prints, you know." He can't see her true self, so there's something. "What is /your/ name. Only fair we trade."

Sue frowns again. Her ears swivel a little bit and she drops her tail and sighs. "Well I can't tell you then I guess. I mean, I can tell you my name, but I can't tell you how I got in here. I mean I could tell you, I guess, but I can't show you. I'm Sue! Do you do all the cooking, Eric, or do you have someone who cooks for you? I mean you're rich, right, because you offered me money. But you can really cook if it was you."

Eric's eyes narrow a tad. "This whole encounter is extremely baffling," he says out loud. He points to a shelf filled with cook books, arranged in alphabetical order. "I do all the cooking. I can read recipes - it's not that hard," he says, straightening up a little. Definitely got a bit of an obnoxious streak about himself, this guy. "I suppose I have to figure out how you breach security all on my own, then. And fix it so it won't happen again. I guess I should thank you for that." He tightens the belt around his robe a bit, and eyes her from under a few locks of hair. "Sue. Are you truly just here to steal my food?"

"You won't be able to replicate it." She says honestly, not at all smug. "I mean, not unless you are like me. And you aren't like me I'm pretty sure. And I mean I'm Sue, so no one is like me!" She proclaims, looking over the cookbooks, then back over at Eric. "Oh no, I was going to eat it too, not just take some home with me later. Hey, at least I always wash my dishes." She looks guilty and reaches into her bag and digs out one, two, three forks and places them on the counter, looking down at the ground. After a moment, she fails a little bit and digs a fourth fork out of the bag and sets it with the others. "Anyway, how would a ghost get in here? Because maybe I really am a ghost then." She tilts her head to the side. "Why did you go to ghost first anyway? I don't think I look like a ghost."

Those are very good questions, and Eric begins to see the confusing girl in a new light. "You may be a bit crazy, but you're not dumb," he tells her, leaning against the counter with a wry smile; he raises a hand in a disarming gesture. "Don't worry. Most consider me to be a particular brand of loon, too. In fact," he muses, his gaze staring out into thin air, "I can not remember when I had a more interesting conversation last time. One where I didn't have to pretend to care about the weather or his or hers children." He snaps his attention back at her. "No, you don't look very ghost like," he says, pursing his lips. "I don't know what I was thinking." He avoids the question, kind of, eyeing the cutlery she pulled out. "Is that even mine?"

Sue looks over the forks on the counter, picks up the second one, looking embarrassed and slips it back into her bag. "Oh I Haaaaate the weather right now. You think humidity is bad for hair? It is horrible for fur."She looks up quickly, wide-eyed. "I'm a furry!" she blurts out. "Um so. Are we going to eat, or are you going to let me go or what, now?"

Eric's stare is icy-blue intent. "Okay," he says, deciding that she being a furry isn't any more odd than anything else. He gestures at the containers. "Heat it up, eat it here if you like. In fact," he muses, "you are welcome back. Without having to break in. Because at some point or another, you might slip up and tell me how you did it."

"Oh I walked through the wall." She answers, and leans over to hit the start button on the microwave. "But I thought you said this was your lunch. What are you going to have tomorrow at work? What do you do anyway?" Her own bright blue eyes searching him curiously.

Eric watches the microwave start up. Bye bye, delicious lunch. "I will survive," he says, having accepted his fate. He goes to the fridge and digs out a couple of beers. Why the hell not? He holds one out to her, raising an eyebrow in a silent question, and if she accepts one, he'll open one for himself. He puts two glasses out too; he's the kind of guy that drinks his beer from a glass. It's more tidy. "I am an IT and science consultant for the Port Angeles Police." This is in fact true. It says so in his papers. He watches her reaction with interest.

Sue gladly accepts the beer and starts to open it as she listens to him talk, not all that concerned with a glass herself. The word police clicks just as she starts to open the tab and she drops the can, spraying beer all over her shoes, the floor, cabinets, and a couple of spurts on Eric's slippers. "Oh. Shit. Really?" She pauses and looks up at him as the microwave dings. "This is all a dream? OooOooh?"

"Don't worry - I am not actually police. Consultant," Eric reminds her, actually smiling a little. He enjoyed her reaction. Maybe he's not actual police, but sometimes it's good to be able to throw out the word at unsuspecting people. He sips his beer delicately, and puts his glass on a coaster. Everything about the kitchen is super tidy and at its right place. "A girl breaks into my house, steals my food, and ends up being not boring? I am so not reporting this."

Sue picks up the can and walks it over to the sink to open it slowly so that there isn't too much fizz. "Oh man, I hate head." She complains, looking away just in case it explodes. "In beer! I mean in beer." She's quick to point out. "You're pretty fun too, and you're a good cook. I wish I could tell you how I got in here, but I really can't." She sounds apologetic. "Consultant. Right. And you do sciencey stuff?" She asks, curious and she tips her glass trying to avoid as much head on the beer as possible. "That's pretty cool. I didn't think sciencey things would be able to afford such a big house." Her ears perk and swivel, "Do you live here alone?"

It's Eric's turn to spill beer; he chokes on it and coughs violently, his face turning red. He manages to clear it and drinks a bit more, to wash it down before speaking. "Yes," he says, voice a bit gravelly and tears in his eyes. "Science… stuff." He eyes her suspiciously. "I don't actually need to work. I do it because it's actually, about thirty percent of the time, not entirely awful." He doesn't explain where he got the money from though. "I have a cat. It moved in one day and has refused to move out. I call him Bill, for lack of a better name at the moment."

"Oooh! I could do that! Like the book 'The Cat Who Walks Through Walls',except that's a book and I'm not a cat, I'm a raccoon." She explains. "I could see why a cat would just show up here and decide to stay. Do you cook for him too? I don't have a job." She admits as she makes a face and gives up and just pours the can, then blows some of the foam off in the sink. "Well I heal people sometimes. I used to be a sidekick, but something happened and I lost my BFF, and it's pretty hard to be a sidekick without someone to be a sidekick too, you know? Plus, it doesn't really pay." She explains as she takes a sip of beer, tail swishing happily, unseen.

"Haha. Raccoon. Very apt - they're nosy and eat anything." Eric doesn't take her words to be the truth. He'd be crazy if he did. He thinks she's given herself a sort of fancy super hero name or something. "I give Bill only food I cook myself. I have a cookbook for cats. Sometimes he even eats it, between munching down cheap dry food which he for some reason prefers over the finest raw chicken. That cat just has no class." He drinks some more beer, eyeing her over the brim of the glass; he's not a very animated person generally, mostly calm. "Aha, medical skills. A hard life on the streets, you had to learn the necessities to survive?" he suggests. He ponders. "I wouldn't mind paying for information. My own connection to the streets. I don't really go out much, myself."

Sue bristles. "I am not a trash panda!" She says with a stomp of her boot. "I am a sparkle panda thankyouverymuch!" She scowls up at Eric, livid. "I'm… I'm taking it back!" She proclaims, clearly flustered. "I won't eat anything. I mean, not on purpose. Sometimes I don't have a choice and I have to eat what I can find. But then I found your house and I don't need to go looking somewhere else." She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and stomps again. "Take that back!"

Eric's hands go up and he leans back, eyes widening - his gesture is disarming. "Wooah, I didn't realise I was going to step on your toes. You're the one who said you're a raccoon - I thought it was a joke. But I've been told I don't understand jokes or sees jokes where there are none, so I was wrong." No outright apology, but he seem to be earnest about being wrong. "I always admired raccoons, myself. Smart, cunning, almost disgustingly adorable. They can survive anywhere." He shrugs, and eyes her more warily now. "If you're really struggling with finding food and money, I'm sorry." His voice has softened a little, and now he's awkward. His social skills just aren't up to snuff and he knows it.

Sue takes in a couple of deep breaths and drops her hands to the side after regarding him a moment. "It's okay. I mean you can't see it anyway, so I shouldn't get mad I guess." She pauses then adds quickly. "Left my costume at home of course, so there is no way you could see sparkles. I mean I don't really have sparkles on me anyway, if you could see, it's all attitude." She frowns a little and looks down. "I have a place." She admits. "But the rent is flexible at best, and questionable at the worst. And it's lonely there by myself. I wasn't joking about being a sidekick." She says earnestly as she looks up. "Maybe I should just go, I have food for tomorrow. But uh, you need to go back to bed, because I'm really not supposed to show you how I got in."

"Of course," Eric says dryly, half convinced that this girl is indeed half crazy, and not minding it the least. He stands up, nodding at her. "I meant it - I'm more than willing to pay for good information. Is there a way I can contact you? Or, if you wish - maybe you can come back later in the week. Preferably /not/ in the middle of the night. And through the front door." He's itching to know how she got in, but he's willing to let it slide. For now.

"Oh I don't have a card and snitches get stitches!" proclaims, grinning. "Seriously though, I don;t know much of anything. I am pretty much by myself all the time since I lost my BFF. I have a group I sort of hang out with, but I'm not really like how they are stereotypically, so I'm cool with being alone." She pauses again and considers. "I could get laid more though." She admits. "But honestly, I don't know much. Actually trying to steal stuff is a lot of work, you know?"

"Right," Eric says awkwardly, his face turning blank again. He loses his speach momentarily, and finishes his beer to have something to do. He begins to tidy up after them both, putting dishes in the dishwasher, empty bottles in a cupboard where he's gathering recycling. "I imagine stealing is hard work. Walking into unsuspecting people's homes, eating their food." He's got no more offers, so he offers a hand to shake. "It was nice meeting you, Sue."

"Look, when I go someplace, and then I get home there are things in my pockets or bag. I don't actively go looking for something, it just happens." She explains casually. "Actually planning to go somewhere and take something? That's work though." She grins and walks over to take his hand, but instead leans up on her toes and kisses him quickly on the cheek. She giggles and reaches up to touch his face. "So that's what it feels like, huh?" She mumbles to herself, she's always wondered what it was like to kiss her with her fur, and while she may not be that kind of Spring, she's still very much a Spring. "Now go to bed and I will go." She suggests, not moving away. "And no peeking! I could seriously get in to trouble if I show you on purpose!"

"There's a name for that, you know - "accidentally finding things.". A scientific name. I'll let you figure it out yourself, and you can tell me next time." Eric sounds like he is hoping that will happen. He takes her hand, and then she kisses his cheek - he's totally surprised and stunned. When she touches his face, he smiles nervously, then he steps back quickly, touching his own cheek where her fingers and her lips brushed his skin. Did he feel something? Maybe. But such is the fae magic, he chalks it up to… something else. Anything. "Good night," he says, turning around and tripping a little in his slippers, before he heads up the stairs again.

Sue heads over to a blank wall in the kitchen and waits, listening as Eric leaves, just staring at the wall like the ending of The Blair Witch until she's sure he's gone, then opens up a hole and steps through, closing it quickly behind her.

Eric isn't trying to sneak up and watch her. He walks pretend calm up the stairs, out of her sight - and then he rushes so fast he loses his slippers, skidding into his bedroom, dives towards his laptop and turns the monitor on; and voila. His security cameras. He choses the one overlooking the kitchen, /just/ in time to see Sue make a hole in his wall and walk right through it.

With his mouth agape, he just stares at the monitor. He closes it, after saving the file on the laptop and on an external harddrive. Then he hides the harddrive. Saves the file onto a USB stick and deletes the file on the computer. Hides the USB stick too.

He won't sleep after that.

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