This place wasn’t as shoddy as he thought, maybe he’d like to stay here longer than anticipated? These people weren’t savages; some of them appeared pretty adept. The dames here weren’t all that bad either. Additionally, Leroy had gotten used to dwelling in secluded spots, so much so that he had gotten comfortable in them, and you can’t get much more secluded than a swamp in the middle of nothingness. However, what really sealed the deal was the old architecture and vehicles. By god was he a sucker for antiques. He collected old things, which was something of a hobby for him, though he did not like to say it. Hobbies were for those not doing enough, and Leroy definitely had stuff to do... like move his collection into his unfamiliar house, for instance.

It was a humble abode with a wearily-shingled crimson roof and deteriorating siding, but it was his. The inside wasn’t any better, what with empty shelves, a collapsed fireplace, termite-eaten doors, and an extremely lumpy bed. The interior he planned on fixing up today, the outside can wait for another time. Now, he wasn’t exactly a gifted house-flipper, yet Leroy had a mean taste in décor; boxes full of it, to be precise, mostly consisting of old car parts and other outdated objects, some with wall mounts, others meant for floor and shelf placement. Just how well these things would spruce up his place, he didn’t know, but they’ll nevertheless make they dusty furniture in there look a lot less cheesy.

Okay. Box number one. Leaving the other one for afterwards, the tall mutt lowered his beefy neck so his head could make contact with the cardboard, and when it did, he started pushing. Man, this would be easy, he’d have a better looking house than everybody else in no time- CRASH!!! "You’ve gotta be shittin’ me!" he cried in anguish as 40’s license plates, a vintage electric fan, what could be presumed as valuable comic books, and many more cluttered the ground before him. Swinging his head behind him, Leroy identified the culprit: a smiley-faced rock, which he had stepped on whilst pushing along the box. Returning his gaze to the container, it looked scarily larger than before, as the vast number of its’ contents poured unto the soil forced Leroy to realize how much these things could hold.

Some of the stuff in there he didn’t want others to see. This hobby of his was a secret, after all. Flipping it right-side-up, the wolfhound quickly grabbed doohickeys and threw them in the cardboard box as fast as he could, and once at half full, commodities had started to fall out again; he had crumpled the box. It was then Leroy finally snapped his cap ”You’ve gotta be FUCKIN’ kidding me! I just want this stuff in my house, not on the FUCKIN’ ground in front of it! Can’t I catch a fuckin’ break?”

Anger was an emotion he struggled with helping people through. Back before the dimension hopping or whatever had happened to him, he had been fine - emotional manipulation went a long way when half the people he met were afraid of him and the other half were people with anger management issues attracted to a clan that offered pure freedom. Except this wasn't before the dimension hop, this wasn't when he had a bunch of neat tricks up his sleeve, mostly stuff he wouldn't use ever. No, he didn't have emotional manipulation anymore. He was stranded with basically nothing, except the ability to see essence, as he always possessed, forced to work to get everything back from the ground up. It was very difficult, he had to admit, but he wasn't opposed to work, especially since he knew a lot already. All he had to do was restore what was necessary for himself, and keep improving upon it until he died.

The spider, around the size of your average cat, was attracted by a commotion - a clamor of steel and shouting, combined to make any creature with a hint of curiosity come closer, even those without a hint of sapient thought in them. As he neared the canid, one who was intimidatingly bigger than him and likely able to kill him with little effort, he overheard only cursing at someone who wasn't there, presumably just to the empty air to let out some of that emotion. He could understand that pretty well.

"Subject require assistance?" the spider asked, innocently, nearing the memorabilia the dog had collected, though keeping an eye on him just to make sure he didn't do anything related to arachnid maiming. He didn't consider, though, that Leroy might not want people around at all right now, or that the information could be sensitive in some way.

That he couldn't empathize with, nor sympathize, as he had no such fears regarding his hobbies, even if his hobbies were very... surgical.

tags - "speech"

To keep things short and sweet, Leroy’s response to Abathur’s appearance wasn’t very good.

For those interested, the following had unfolded: "WHAT THE FUCK’RE YOU?!". If Leroy wasn’t in the mood for visitors right now, he definitely wasn’t in the mood for a large spider showing up. He went unhinged every time he saw a normal arachnid, such one could only imagine his reaction when there was one ten times as large as a normal one; until now. For about three seconds straight he quivered in pure fear, before becoming aware that the voice that had offered help came from the spider. Now the mutt almost felt bad. The spider wasn’t enemy, he was friend, though that didn’t stray from the fact that the spider kinda jumped out at him. ”Sorryy, pal, it’s just the legs... the legs got me”. Due to the frightening appearance of Abathur, Leroy just wanted the freak to get as far away from him as possible, though, turning his head once more to the sheer amount of items on the ground, he reluctantly came to a conclusion.

”Do I need help? You bet I do. See the items back there? If you wanna, we’ll put your eight legs to work and move ‘em into my house. Capiche?”

//rushed near ending sorry

The large ears on his head perked, for the voice of someone new, one he wasn’t familiar with, had entered the scene. By the sounds of it, he wasn’t happy with the treatment Abathur, the spider, was receiving from Leroy. That’s fine, people can have their own opinions, as long as Vigenere looked at it from both sides. Yeah, Leroy was giving the spider a hard time, though on the other hand, Abathur surprised him. He surprised him bad. In addition to all of that, "I did say sorry."

Leroy understood cliques just fine. Circles of friends were fun, he got it. It’s that the situation he was in here, it felt a lot different than dealing with cliques. He perceived it as the entire clan vs him, what with people never taking his side solely because of the fact he was new (or that he was a jerk).

”I didn’t actually mean he shoul’ use all eight legs, it’s jus’ a metaphor-“, grunted the mongrel. He obviously wasn’t going to treat mr. spider like that. If he hadn’t meant it in a figurative manner, it would be slave work, which probably wasn’t on par with Tanglewood’s standards. ”Look, I’m sorry, jus’ a li’l cranky today, tha’s all.” he’s apologize morosely once more, ”Ye’ don’ need t’ help me if ye don’ want ta. I kno’ I was rude.”

It wasn’t in Leroy’s character to admit guilt, yet by apologizing he figured that those guys could forgive him, and help move that huge pile of goods back there.

He was used to the outbursts, to be frank. He was used to people scrambling to get up, yelling at him, questioning their lives as to why a spider could possibly be intelligent, and especially why it had to be around them.

To be fair, he asked the same question.

"Used to outbursts," the spider grumbled, the monotone of his voice concealing whether he was disturbed or truly used to people shrieking at him. Abathur didn't really care about an explanation. He came here to help someone with their strange memorabilia, and even if Leroy was being a slight bit of an ass, he was going to help someone with their strange human memorabilia. Try to let Leroy adapt to his existence, maybe, get more used to having a spider in his vicinity. That'd be good.

Oh, yes, Vigenere had promised to help, and the wolfhound was over-apologizing, to a suspicious degree. He wasn't going to suspect anything, though. Didn't have enough energy for that. "Still intend to assist subject Leroy." If you listened closely and picked apart every millisecond of his speech, you could hear a teensy bit of exhaustion in him. His voice wasn't overloaded with it, no, and it was only noticeable to the kinds of people who would notice the most ridiculous things, but there it still was. In the end, he just wanted to get this venture out of the way, and end this mistake before it went too far.

tags - "speech"

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After hearing Abathur’s colourless words of clemency, a relieved smile sprouted on the mutt’s face. Good. Despite the fact that the spider was acting like a mindless drone, the trio could move past that little eruption of his and focus on the real task at hand; moving shit. At least, it was a trio until Malkyn showed up. For a split second, he was gladdened that there was an extra person to assist with the task, except she explained that she ”couldn’t care less”. The fucking fathead. That hellhound could’ve passed by and nothing would have changed. People who acted like that, who spoke when they didn’t need to, we’re worth very little to the wolfhound. They were dumbbells, halfwits, nuisances to society. "That’’s great.", he’d huff impatiently in the direction of Malkyn. Thanks for your help.

As for the people who actually were doing something with their time; ”Ova’ here, if ya will” he instructed, motioning towards the mess. ”This stuff may look like junk, and i’ is, but s’ my junk,”. Following that statement, the impatient hound paced towards his gaudy house, broaching the brown bug-worn door. Then, he resumed to his previous spot and continued speaking. ”What I’d like you guys t’ do, is push (the word complete with a pushing movement by the speaker) my stuff into the great room in there.” It wasn’t too much work for those guys; in fact, they didn’t need to do it at all. What they were doing was just saving Leroy some time, which, unlike many things, he actually appreciated. This wasn’t a job he had forced upon people, it was his clanmates doing what clanmates are supposed to do.

Although most of the interaction going on here between everyone was bitter, the whole situation somewhat emboldened him. He was used to always getting what he wanted; now getting what he wanted was a treat. And at the present, Leroy was enjoying his treat.

//guys u just made jerkroy a softie why