thisavrou_log | Vault House Mingle Log

Vault House Mingle Log

Who: The Borderlands Cast of Region Three's Vault House (+Guests, but do these fucks really have friends?
When: All March Long/Until we make another one
Where: The Vault House
What: Shenanigans
Warnings: M for Blood and Gore, Intense Violence, Mature Humor, Strong Language

Catchall for any and all bullshittery that may crop up behind closed (or not so closed) doors.

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[The weird smell tips Rhys off, but with his sleep-inhibited senses, not quick enough. Only when he hears the approach of what is probably some horrible as of yet unmentioned forest monster that preys on the weak and undeserving does he grab his spoon and brandish it menacingly at the entryway.

He is not exactly relieved to see that his company is the enormous Psycho. Complete with stylish bloodstains. Why did he agree to this, exactly?]

Yyyeah... Y-you too. [Rhys eventually lowers his deadly weapon and stirs his drink while keeping a nervous eye on Krieg.]

You, uh... got a little something on you. Right there.

[What in the world does this skinny twig man think he's going to accomplish with a spoon? Other than make Krieg laugh, because in that, at least, he's successful.]

PfmnahahahAHAHA! I got a LOT of something on me! Want some?

[He swipes mostly ineffectively at his torso and manages to smear some of the still-damp blood down his front (as well as start a few barely-scabbed over cuts oozing again), and then holds out his hand, palm up, in a very generous offering of blood smears to his hermit roommate.]

Sharing is caring!

[Rhys is almost offended at Krieg's mockery of him, but all wounded pride is soon thrown out the window in favor of disgust. After choking on his coffee, he nearly slams the mug onto the counter to free up a hand for steadying himself. The other covers his mouth while he looks absolutely anywhere else in the room and tries not to gag.]

Nope. No, I'm... way good. Really kind of you. No thanks. [Why is this his life.]

MnahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

[Sorry, Rhys, Krieg's probably going to be laughing around you a lot. It's nothing personal. You're just a hugely funny guy.

And hey, at least as long as the psycho is laughing, it means he's not angry? :')?]

All aboard the vomit comet!

[He's going to cry. Why is this happening to him. He never should have come here.]

Again, nooo thanks. I have a very unpleasant relationship with heights. And anything that moves fast that isn't on the ground.

Why did I tell you that. Oh my god. [Please don't hold him out a window or something for fun. There has to be reason in Krieg somewhere that tells him not to take advantage of the myriad of fears Rhys is shedding light on for absolutely no reason other than his mouth moving fifty miles faster than his brain.]

[Krieg's unhinged gut-busting laughter fades away to a maniacal little giggle as Rhys proceeds to word-vomit. Dropping his blood smeared hand to his side, he turns away from Rhys and toward the fridge, which he then proceeds to open. He leans forward to peer inside while the other man's verbal diarrhea continues, and finally replies when there's a break in the barrage - still squinting at the fridge's contents.]

Not gonna hurt you, Beanpole. The voice won't let me~

[Somehow, there's a box containing almost half of a leftover pizza crammed in there. It doesn't have anyone's name on it, so it's Krieg's, now.

...Is Krieg way more interested in the pizza than he is in Rhys? You bet he is. He lifts the box out, straightens back up, and shuts the fridge door.]

Want a slice?

[Aww yeah, cold pizza for breakfast. And look, see, he's willing to share, too!]

Of course. The voice. Silly me.

[Wow. Consider Rhys genuinely impressed that Krieg wants to share.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, a psycho's food is grounds for suspicion.]

It's not... made of people, right?

[Yeah, Rhys! Silly you.

And...Krieg didn't order the pizza so he actually has no idea what it's made of. He's fairly certain, however, that none of the ingredients contain human or human byproducts, because as far as he's seen, that's not how the citizens of this planet roll.

He will, however, flip the cardboard lid open to inspect the box's contents, since Rhys raised the question. A brief inspection of the contents reveals tomato sauces, cheese, and pepperoni. For all appearances, pretty benign.]

I dunno. [He'll just proffer the leftovers for Rhys to inspect.] You tell me!

What d'you mean you don't know? You didn't order it?

[His face screws up a little as he reaches for a slice in direct violation of his best interests. In the end, Rhys, like any nerd worth his salt, is still a sucker for cold pizza. Plus, he can scan the pepperoni for offending meat sources. Rebuilding his database from the ground up is an ordeal, but he's had no shortage of human flesh to identify.]

Good news. We're not cannibals.

It could still be space rat, though. [Yet even he is still eating it.]

[Krieg hasn't been around for the past couple days, and he certainly wouldn't have had a pizza delivered here while he was elsewhere. Also, if it were Krieg's pizza, there wouldn't have been any leftovers.

But, if Rhys doesn't realize that, then Krieg's not going to try to explain it to him. There are other, higher priority remarks coming from President Fuckboy's mouth that need to be addressed. Mainly...]

That makes one of us!

[And Rhys is more than free to interpret that reply as he will. Is Krieg trolling him, or is he being honest? Who even knows! While Rhys processes or possibly chokes on that, Krieg reaches up to shove his mask up and back far enough on his head so that he can take a nice bite out of his pizza. And probably also give Rhys nightmares because he can now see Krieg's (apparently perfectly normal) mouth.]

Mnnngh. Rat's too stringy. Skag's better.

[Yeah, he kind of expected that, and while he definitely cringes, he doesn't necessarily gag. Not even Krieg should be allowed to ruin perfectly good pizza.

He is less prepared to see the Eldritch horror that is a psycho's true face, though... it's surprisingly underwhelming. That's more disturbing than the alternative, really. Maybe now Rhys will stop eating for the moment, and contemplate existence.]

If you ever ate skag out of a can, you'd be ranting a different word salad. [This is the face of a broken man.]

[Incredible, right? If the psycho took off his mask and kept his mouth shut, and maybe put on a shirt or something, he'd almost look like a perfectly normal person!

Krieg can't see Rhys' broken face, due to currently being blinded by his mask's position, so all he can respond to is the man's words. Which, let's be real, is probably a good thing for Rhys.]

Pff! Canned sucks, barbecue's best! The fresher the better!

[Poor Rhys, it sounds like the only skag he's ever had has been canned. That's truly a travesty.]

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Vault House Mingle Log

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