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[ Rachel's in the feed, looking a mixture of angry and upset and honestly, kind of grossed out. For once, she looks like she might lose her cool. Or might have lost it already. Either way, she's holding a grease-stained takeout box in her hand, her lip pulled back in disgust. ]

You know, it's bad enough that both of my roommates just up and disappeared. It's bad enough that I'm stuck in this crummy apartment all by myself, when the blue bitch in charge has just locked us into the neighborhood. But when my food starts talking to me? I'm so done, okay?

[ She opens the top of the takeout box to show to the omni-tool feed -- the indistinguishable heap of food in the box looks perfectly innocuous at first, until it starts...wriggling. And then a couple of black bean mameshiba pop their heads above the surface with a little whoosh of air. They stare at the camera with wet, quivering eyes for a long moment before one of them starts to speak in a tiny voice and heavily affected English. ]

Do you know? Most lipstick contains fish scales --

[ Rachel snaps the top of the box shut, and the mameshiba inside let out muffled cries of dismay. Never has a teenaged girl looked this angry over bad takeout. Seriously, if looks can kill... Well, at least Rachel's grizzly morph can.

Her nostrils flare, her jaw set tight, and oh yeah, she looks pissed. Pissed to cover up being scared and upset because she's alone, and the food is infested with weird little Japanimation beans, and she doesn't like it when the rug gets pulled out from under her. ]

It's been crap like that, nonstop. Creepy, disgusting trivia every time I open the stupid box. And it's all so weird! Who even knows this stuff?

[ Nerds, Rachel. Nerds know this stuff. And right now, that makes her so angry.

She leans forward, eyes narrowed, and pronounces with total, seething conviction: ]

This. Is. So. Gross.

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[ wow okay yeah this Marco has a penchant for being weird, but this is a brand of weird she's never gotten from him before. But it's a familiar kind of weird, because it's way more like her Marco. And that's...comforting.

God, if she ever does get back home, she's never admitting any of this to anybody.

Still, she can't get out of the house fast enough, after carefully inspecting her face to make sure it doesn't look like she's been crying. Then again, maybe Marco will be too preoccupied with these weird alien bean things to care one way or the other.

She finds the place without too much trouble, worrying what it'll look like that she got here so fast. Whatever, she could just say she morphed to run here. Yeah, that totally makes sense. God. She knocks on the door hurriedly, feeling a little antsier than usual. ]

Marco? Those things better have not started eating you alive or anything!

[ As if Marco's going to notice anything related to Rachel's appearance or willingness to arrive as soon as possible. Not when there are mameshiba loose in the apartment. ]

I'm pretty sure they can't open their mouths enough to do that!

[ He's shouting back through the door at her, though his voice is close, like he's just on the other side, but he doesn't open the door. Meanwhile, the excited chorus of DOYOUKNOWs is bubbling around him. ]

Are you sure you don't want to turn into an anteater?

Uh, pretty sure.

[ Jesus, what is going on in there? Are those things seriously making that much noise? For a second, she's actually a little worried about this Marco. This guy can't morph. To defend himself. Against...tiny little bean dogs.

Still, she's not really willing to bet that they aren't dangerous. Especially in large numbers. Which it sounds like... ]

Marco! Open the door! How many of those things do you even have?

I mean, I don't want to spill the beans, here, but. Lots. Lots and lots.

[ And spill the beans he does. He cracks open the door just enough to stick his nose through. A crowd of mameshiba of all different types starts pushing through the bottom of the door. ]

Hi! Glad you made it! Can I offer you something to drink?

Do you know? The average beer contains 154 calories!

[ There's one sitting on his head, helpfully offering her advice. ]

[ Oh my god that pun is so awful Rachel actually has to take the time to roll her eyes at it. But she moves quickly otherwise, hurriedly squeezing in through the door so Marco can shut it again, but as soon as she's inside she wonders why she thought that was a good idea. There are bouncing peas with dog ears all over the place. Ughhh.

She delivers an accusatory glare at Marco, crossing her arms and also trying to sidestep any attempts by the mameshiba to climb onto her shoe. ]

What did you do?

Oh, the usual. Keep them out of sunlight, get them wet, feed them after midnight. Do you know? These little guys love dirty socks!

[ There's a screech of protest as a bunch of mameshiba are caught along the bottom of the door and crushed when Marco slams it shut. The rest of the mameshiba scramble for cover as a second set of feet are introduced to the apartment, but the braver ones are bouncing up onto the couch to get a better look at their guest. ]

Do you know? Geckos lick their eyeballs because they can't blink!

[ Marco manages a weak smile as he shoes a bunch out of his way so he can sit down on the couch. ]

[ Rachel wrinkles her nose, because eugh these things are so creepy, kicking at the more adventurous mameshiba. They scatter again and follow their friends with a little chittering noise, leaving her be. For now, anyway.

She glances at the couch, and Marco sitting on it, and wonders if she should sit down. He invited her, right? Then again, she doesn't want him to think she wants to be here. ...Ugh. She wavers on it for a long moment, and then decides that she's too lonely to care what Marco thinks of her. Not that she'll ever admit that. She sits down on the couch, maybe a little stiffly, arms crossed over her chest. ]

You know when those things eat you alive in the middle of the night, you'll have no one to blame but yourself.

I thought you came over to help? Rachel with her superpowers, turning into a bear and smashing her way through the tiny bean things, protecting poor, helpless Marco?

[ He flutters his eyelashes at her in his best maiden-in-distress presentation, greatly enjoying any opportunity to grind her nerves. He can even ignore how annoying the infestation is right now, since they're being surprisingly harmless. ]

Do you know? It's impossible to kill yourself by holding your breath!

[ If Rachel were feeling less homesick and self-conscious, she'd probably have had a quip ready for that. But unfortunately today Marco's got the upper hand on flustering Rachel, and well...she reacts like Rachel. She huffs at him, giving him a shove. ]

Ugh, cut it out! Stop being so weird.

[ Ughhhh Rachel get a grip. She can't freak out all over him, because she doesn't really have any friends left here. She coughs, rolls her eyes to herself, like she can't believe she has to be nice to Marco. But -- not that she'd admit it in a hundred years -- there's a part of her that really wants to get along with Marco. Somehow. So she tries for some humor. ]

...Besides, you don't want me to morph in here. Given how you reacted last time, you'd probably just pee yourself and cry.

[ Yes, Rachel, that's exactly how you make friends. ]

Edited 2013-07-31 22:04 (UTC)

I'm not weird, I'm charming.

[ He mock-tumbles off the couch with her shove, displacing a crowd of upset mameshiba. He grins at her from the floor, flicking away the bean that's trying to crawl up his leg. ]

Jeez, Rachel, are you this rough with every Marco you meet, or is it just my superior egging skills? Come on, morph one of these little bean guys. I dare you!

[ Rest assurred that the antagonizing is all a cover for Marco's unwillingness to process whether or not he actually enjoys having Rachel around. ]

Hey, I don't know if I need to remind you, but you shot me. Or tried, anyway. How do you miss an eight hundred pound bear at 10 feet, anyway?

[ She's not nearly as bothered as she seems. He'd only grazed her, and she's had way worse. She scoffs all the same, though, rolling her eyes, but it's exaggerated, like she's trying to make up for how off she's feeling. ]

Every Marco I've known could take it.

[ She hesitates, and then, almost reluctantly: ]

I guess you aren't so bad. Sometimes. When you aren't being a total jerk.

It was just a warning shot! Besides, I'm unarmed!

[ He holds up his empty hands to prove it. Just don't check the underside of the couch, Rachel. Hopefully, the mameshiba don't find his emergency personal protection, either. ]

Wait. Are you feeling okay? That's like, the first time you've said something almost nice to me.

[ The look on his face is most suspicious than worried, but he definitely notices that Rachel is being kind of weird. ]

[ Ugh, and there he goes again, ruining everything by pointing out how weird it is. She knows, okay? Stop making it weirder. Her shoulders hunch up, and her arms crossed against her chest stiffen. ]

Did you invite me over here to be mean to you? Because I can go back to that.

[ It comes out more acidly than she'd meant -- she'd intended it to be flippant, sarcastic. Meet her halfway here, Marco. She's trying so hard. It helps that she'd rather tolerate Marco for days than go back to an empty apartment right now. ]

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sad realization that this rachel has yet to meet the helmacrons

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