#an interdimensional beast: in toni's kitchen

[abstrused]

@ubburst​ sent (and scuttled):   Rustling is heard in his kitchen, followed by a couple clatters. Had he left his window open? Regardless, the strange, alien creature was curious in its exploration of the place, not even happening to initially notice that it had been caught in the act.

Not until a light clicked on, causing the beast to freeze, head turning just enough for one widened eye to stare directly at the human. Prolonged eye contact.

… Did it have an armful of silverware? Not even any knives, mostly just… Spoons. Maybe a fork or two.

The rustling. The clattering, sharp and metallic in fashion. The first earned a glance and the second knitted brows.

Ugh.

Antonio gingerly peeled himself off his couch, a deep indent left in his wake, and left the familiar, comforting light of the television. His approach was mute, footfalls equally so. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had burgled his apartment, seeking something—normally some abstruse, stupidly framed ideal of revenge, one that’d been rattling around obsessively in that empty skull of theirs. Antonio’s fingers itched, ghosting over the handle of the knife concealed at his hip.

A click. Searing white light drowned the kitchen.

What he came face-to-face with stilled him. His plans—to unsheathe the blade, to flourish and threaten the daft prick who thought breaking into his apartment was any semblance of a good idea—vacated his mind.

“What the fuck.” 

Eye contact unwavering, he stepped closer, arm creeping from his flank; Antonio’s hand groped blindly for a weapon broader than his knife and—upon fingers finding purchase of a recently cleaned fry pan, left out to air—he snatched it close and prepped himself for battle against … whatever this thing was. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen or heard about.

But the concept of the unknown had never frightened Antonio.

“Piss off, you—you oversized gumball machine!” He readied himself to swing. “¡Lárgate! ¡Lárgate!”

[ironstrange-grabbyhands]

*Stephen walks into the living room from the kitchen covered in red stuff*

Tony: OH MY GOD! Are you okay?! Is that blood? Did a weird interdimensional beast stab you and vomit little rings all over you? Do you need medical supplies? Or do you need magical supplies?!

Stephen who has clearly just tried to open a can of Spaghetti-Os with his own hands but likes the attention too much: Yes