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"Today, more than ever before, life must be characterized by a sense of universal responsibility, not only nation to nation and human to human, but also human to other forms of life."

0 · 128 views · located in Ever

a character in “More Than Ever Before”, as played by Averagebear



Name: "Griff, no more, no less. Last names are sooo last millenia."
Nickname: "Boogeyman, El Coco, Sackman, Babau, Butzemann, it really goes on and on. What can I say? I get around. I'm usually referred to as either Griff or Boogey, though."
Age: "Haha, about that..."
Gender: Male
Sexuality: "Yes, please. Wait, goddamn it. I messed up the joke again."
Race: "Cars." He doesn't have any racial background, as he's more of an entity than anything else. However, the body he's using at the moment was all Americano with Italian backgrounds.
Nationality: "What? You expect me to feel proud of Ever? Feel like I have this overwhelming sense of duty to serve my Queen and help my people? Why the hell would I? They're literally monsters. Literally. I don't look out for no one but myself. And, uh, and you, of course."

Eyes: "Black as the soul I never had, baby."
Hair: "Equally as black as the two aforementioned traits, baby."
Height: "I'm somewhere on the later end of five feet. Listen, I wasn't lucky enough to get trapped into the body of a basketball player. So sue me." He's 5'10"/5'11" which actually is rather tall for a human.
Weight: 166 lbs.
Skin Tone: "Alright, I'm not even gonna lie, I'm one pale fucker." One pale fucker, indeed. His skin is dull and corpse like, and has a bit of an yellow tint to it.
Build: "I'm a dream boat. A hunkaroo. Came to see the gun show? Don't blame ya. Look at these MUSCLES."
Body Markings: " I gotta lot of scars. Some are fresh, some are old. Some I didn't even cause- the user before me did. I also have a band tattooed on my right bicep, but I didn't do that either. Don't even know what the hell it was supposed to mean or why the guy got it. It's not even that cool looking." You can see examples of this in the image below. Normally, mortal markings like these disappear when in the Ever, but Griff's a bit of a different case for several reasons. I's hard to get him to confess what, exactly, he's done to have been cursed with the fate of being pinned down in the depths of a far-gone greaser corpse.
Voice: His voice is gravelly from years upon years of smoking, but still manages to sound lighthearted and kiddish most of the time. He loves to talk, and is good at telling stories because he seems to know how to inflect to add intrigue. It's not monotonous in any sense of the word, though it still manages to be nonchalant sounding despite this.
Description: "Ah, this is a tricky one to answer. The world wide web claims that I am 'an amorphous imaginary being used by adults to frighten children into behaving. The monster has no specific appearance, and conceptions about it can vary drastically from household to household within the same community; in many cases, he has no set appearance in the mind of an adult or child, but is simply a non-specific embodiment of terror.' Which is true enough, I guess. I used to have the ability to change my form. 'Used to' are two crucial words in that sentence. I've been hanging around this body for a while now, in any case. Even when I was swappin' faces, I've always been masculine. I was a chick once and it just felt... weird. I may have been amorphous but I still had character. Anyway, the chump I inhabit now is all beat up and starting to creak at the joints, which pisses me off, but it's alright. Nothing really to complain about."

Griff's got a strong face, angular jaw and pointed nose making him look like he's made of only straight lines. He is thin if not a bit bulky, yet he eats like a total fatass. "Yeh, well, didn't you know that being the embodiment of terror came with a high metabolism?" he jokes when confronted with the fact. There is something distinctly alien about the way he carries himself, just little flashes that make you deduce (and rightfully so) that he's not exactly what he appears to be. Dingy skin clings to his bone structure in way that looks like it might be paper thin. Deep, dark bags are smeared across his eyes that somehow enhance his smoldering (if not unnerving) gaze and a haphazard smile is painted so crooked on his jaw that it borders on mischievous, goofy, and sinister. You can't quite tell if he plans behead you with a butterknife or take you out to the icecream parlor and a movie, which makes most people uncomfortable. He's got an inverted triangle body shape, wide shoulders tapering into narrow hips. He's got this certain casual, "hey what's cookin'" air about him, relaxed posture and easy movements, even in situations where he should be tense as a virgin in a brothel. That, perhaps, is the biggest indicator that the man is a fraud and a liar. To have such command over the way he makes you perceive him is a dangerous thing indeed.

Quirks: "Oh, I can get real quriky... in the bedroom..." That's not even the right word, Griff, you insufferable lump of cigarette dust. He's always hungry. And usually complaining about how hungry he is. He smokes whenever he can, but that seems less of a quirk and more of an expected trait for him to have.
Fears: Who woulda thunk that the Boogeyman was terrified of cute, fuzzy creatures? Alright, to be fair, it's less of him being scared of them and more of him being uncomfortable around them. That actually might be an understatement. It's somewhere between fear and irritation. See, he doesn't like how vulnerable they make him feel. If they were to pull any weird shit- demonic possessions and the such- he really can't imagine himself killing them. He doesn't have a problem with decapitating humans, but small fluffy things is where he draws the line. Naturally, he isn't aware of why he dislikes them- he doesn't like self speculation much. He doesn't like to touch them and he can't stand ones that make sounds (ie: barking, meowing). If you surprise him with a bunny to the face, he'd more than likely scream like a little girl and leap thirty feet into the air. This might be one of the only situations where he'd pleadingly beg, "Stop, please guys, cut it out. I'm not kidding. This isn't funny guys! Stop it!!"
Hearing himself talk: Any friend of Griff can assure you that he can talk for hours upon hours upon hours upon hours. Even when no one is around and he's just chillin' with the TV on, he'll make comments to himself. It's almost pathetic.
Pain: call him weird, but Griff sometimes feels as if the day isn't quite complete unless he's gotten a gash or two. There's something invigorating about shedding blood to him, and being that he has restorative cells and is immortal, his little masochism kick isn't too big of an issue.
Earth food: He developed an affinity for it in the six years he lived there. He won't eat much of it in public 'cause it reminds him of his dead fiance and, ya know, it's kind of become an intimate thing because of that. He complains that the food in Ever is way too salty.
Humans: Neat lil' things, ain't they? Perhaps his fascination with the tykes has something to do with the fact that he was litterally put into existence with the purpose of preying on them, but he prefers to think it's 'cause they're so squishy.
Pinching n' pokin': Speaking of how squishy humans are, feeling this for himself is something he still hasn't grown tired of. He'll often pinch himself and grin like a fool if he's terribly bored.
Lying: The truth is, you should lie with him. He'd actually much rather spin a fantastic lie than tell the truth. He'd rather tell a boring lie than tell the spectacular truth. He just feels kinda sly when he's practicing with that silver tongue of his.

The Queen: Dislike doesn't quite cut it here. Griff loathes her with every fiber in his being and he vocalizes it whenever he gets the chance. Her anti-human policies and a personal past with her has left him bitter and outraged- and more than ready to start a revolution if he can.
Being the underdog: After thousands of years of having flourished- for the most part- in Ever as a respected citizen, to get a cold shoulder from most of "his kind" doesn't sit well with him. He's good at keeping up the guise of indifference, but in truth, he feels rather betrayed.
Heart-to-hearts: He may not have a problem with crossing boundaries, but whenever someone begins to openly pour out their heart to him and expect the same in return, he can't help but to grimace or crack a joke. He doesn't even have a heart, right?

Personality: "Charming, funny, terribly smart, sexy, adventurous, outg-" Griff's an arrogant ass, and an elusive one at that. He can talk himself in circles and you in spheres. He's spectacular at putting on pony shows and has a certain way of forcing you to leap through rings of fire. I really needn't tell you this since you would know it firsthand, though, wouldn't you?

He's more or less a sleazy scum bag, yet somehow manages to keep things nice and chummy between himself and those he wants something from- and, trust me, if he's talkin' to you, he definitely wants something. He's friendly enough, though he's prone to teasing and taunting, and has a habit of pissing the wrong people off. Not only is the man big on self praise, but he's also a fanatic for flattery. It's hard to tell whether Griff is a pathological liar with no control over it, a man who uses well placed and thought out lies to get what he wants, or a chump who says whatever the hell is on his mind. It definitely appears to be the later from an outside view, but that could just be him not giving a damn. He seems to say whatever he fucking wants to whomever he fucking wants, thankyouverymuch, and this has gotten him into more trouble than he can wade himself out of. This display of idiotic brashness, again, is hard to decipher.

You'll begin to think that he's some brilliant mastermind with a handful of deadly cards to play and a big plan mapped out, but then an ogre'll bump into him in a crowd and he'll resort to calling him a fuck-headed-twaticus and the next thing you know, the entire square is looking at you and all your friends ready to pound your face in. He's unpredictable, essentially.

Underneath the guise of easy going nonchalance is a nasty temper and an innate urge to kill anything that's living. A monster with incredible power and a short fuse to light it isn't the most ideal of foes. Naturally, this fuse isn't lit by any ol' thing. Call him ugly or tell him he should crawl back into his never existing mama and you won't get so much of a twitch out of him, but there are a few topics that mean an awful lot to him that will set off an explosion of hissy fits. You'll have to dig a little to find it, but he's got quite the Jekyll Hyde complex going on. One minute he's telling you that it's you and him against the world, and the next minute, he's selling you into eternal slavery.

He's quick to flirt, though because he does it all the time, it's lost its value. Most people just brush off his advances like pieces of lint after a while of knowing him. He's got this unrestrained urge to rebel, a restless heart made for revolution. Whether this yearning comes from a pure place is yet to be seen, for he could be fighting for a better future, or just wanting to spice up his life with a little bloodshed. Griff's not very popular in Ever. His crudeness and knack for stirring up trouble has lead to the majority of the citizens there to shun his disdainfully, but he does have a posse of equally as troublesome creeps that he calls on.

Don't let his silliness fool you. He's killed thousands of innocent people, children and women and babies and old people included. He's not as peachy as he makes himself out to be. Furthermore, at this particular moment, he's so enraptured with his 'cause' that there's not much he wouldn't do for it, a radical terrorist of sorts.

Future Armor: When you're given the powers of the Boogeyman, there's no real need for armor. Whenever he's hurt, he can heal himself. It takes a lot of energy and leaves nasty scars, but Griff's too prideful to wear armor and would rather spend the effort than the coin.
Casual Clothing: He wears his leather jacket, black pants, a white (usually bloodied) shirt, and combat boots.
Carried Items: A pack of cigarettes & a lighter from the 1910s, the small notebook he uses to schedule in events (just kidding, it's mostly filled with doodles of boobies), and a wallet with
-his Ever citizenship certificate
-a panel of pictures of him and Saori in a photobooth
-50 hums (currency in Ever) or so
-his lucky American dollar

Main Weapon: Only his own body (generally his hands) are used. He may be trapped in this body, but he's still able to command some power over his physical manifestation. When battling, his eyes go black and whatever limb he's transforming becomes black and gnarled. His default is having his arm transforms into an massive claw, 3 or so times larger than his normal, fleshy one. It looks a lot like it's covered in tar and typically oozes, and the sharp talons at the end are insanely sharp. He technically could transform his entire body into this form (his true form) but each time he does as of late, it becomes harder and harder to switch between the two modes. He's usually much more fearsome than he is in his current state, a shadow of his former self. [/list]


Skills: (Please note that these powers are rather stretched. I wouldn't normally play such a powerful character at all. I feel uncomfortable, but it's necessary for him. Ugh.) "I'm basically just good at everything. Get used to it, toots."

Torment: Griff is able to strike fear into most opponents by default, as is the power given to him by being the Boogeyman. He can flash gruesome images and nightmarish scenes before the foe's eyes, thereby weakening their defense and ruining their concentration. Torment is activated by will, in which case the fright is only delivered to who he wishes. However, when particularly physically drained- ie: unconscious, very badly wounded, dying, it sort of leaks out of him and affects anyone near him, friend or foe. This can be detrimental, as it prevents his comrades from helping him.

Rally: The opposite of Torment in its very nature, Rally is used to boost up the party's morale. Unlike Torment, this skill is generally activated with his own emotions, and he very rarely thinks to use it. A natural habit, or so to speak. When in battle, a feed of testosterone-related emotions are linked to those he feels are on his side. This surging of victory-driven energy makes the party become almost blind with their desire to conquer the opponent. When too strong, it can almost be compared to brainwashing. Another issue with this is that if he was ever connected in the past with a foe, he might accidentally use Rally on the person, the old chummy feelings rising to the surface and ultimately helping his enemy defeat him.

Shapeshift: While no longer currently able to use, back in the day, he would shapeshift into either monstrous creatures or small, easily hidden disguises to help him. He cannot fully do this anymore. Instead he uses his tar-arm thingy as mentioned up in "weapons".

Conjure: From his own blood, he can create items that he remembers well. For example, he can slice his wrist and from the blood crystals, a familiar dagger will be crystallized. This process is rather slow and ineffective during battle though, as the items are fragile and brittle for a good while before they can be used. If he tries to use a newly conjured item, it will break and his blood will not be recycled.

Restoration: This is something his body naturally does, though it is very, very slow. A stab wound would take at least a couple of days to fully scar over, and in this time he would be particularly weak. Griff may be technically immortal for the most part, but he can be brought down and immobilized for a looong time.

Weaknesses: "Ha! Ha ha ha! Haaaaaaaa! As if. I don't have weaknesses. Get reaaaaaaa-"

Frenzy:Griff, brimming with his radical vendettas and ideals of justice, becomes haphazard in battle. His hit ratio is staggered downward and many of his moves are excessive and wasteful. Furthermore, he could harm himself and team mates in his craze.

One track mind: Once Griff is riled up, the monster inside him is rearing for destruction. If he enters a battle with a mission in mind, there's not much that can stop him from completing the task, even if new and important information is revealed within this time. Afterward, he will regret what he's done, but only afterward.

Tipsy: Griff can be knocked over easily, especially if he has his arm activated. Already off balance with the thing weighing half his size, a strong blow from an opponent will tip him over and leave him vulnerable to killer hits.

Long Distance: Griff could probably conjure up a projectile weapon, but it'd have to involve preplanning since he'd have to have created it a good deal before the battle. Therefore, any enemies who use, say, arrows or blasts of magic (or guns, for that matter) are particularly tricky. He'd have to run up to them and hope not to have been hit by the time he was up there.

Defense: Griff's defense is pretty low, as far as they go. Seeing as how he doesn't even wear armor, he takes quite a bit of damage, especially as he is a close ranged DPS kinda guy. This only works because of his restorative powers and high pain tolerance.

Martial Status: "Fuck you." Formerly engaged, now single.
Family: "The Boogeyman doesn't have have family. Never did."
History: Griff has a story that he's retold time and time and time again, though no one's really sure if it's true or not. He sticks to this history, but he very well could be lying about the whole thing:

"I'd been evil my entire life. I didn't know anything but evil, ya know? I was born from sin and all I did was sin for as long as I remembered. For thousands of years, I survived off of the terror and carnage of humans on Earth, taking the image of the last one I'd killed. I had a collection of faces, or so to speak. I had killed this idiot naemd Griff back in the 1950s and I was ready to kill his saucy girlfriend, real hot. I'd done this sort of thing time and time again, you know? No big deal. But then she looked at me with those big brown eyes and said to me, "You're not Griff. Who are you?" She had "a gift". She could see into the souls of others and had a connection to the Ever- she could see all the shit that was going on in the world, all the terrible monsters lurking about, crystal clear. And yet, she still had this hope to her- this love of mankind. She was beautiful. Anyway, anyway, she, uh, she asked me who I was and I frowned all like, "What the hell" but after a moment of silence I actually answered her. I told her straight up that I was the boogeyman and she said that I was neat. Who the hell says that the boogeyman is neat, huh? She does- or, did. I'd just killed her boyfriend and she was totally cool with it. "Don't you care that Griff is dead?" I asked her and she told me that he'd hit her for the past five years of her life every single day. Now, I'm a fucking monster- like, seriously deranged- and even I couldn't fathom hitting this angel. We spent the night together. 'Said she was grateful to me; said I was like her knight in shining armor. For the first time in my life- or, nonlife...whatever- I felt something. Can you blame me? A terrifying beast being called a hero. I sucked it all in.

I left her for a while but I just... I couldn't stay away. I started visiting her all the time and before I knew it, I was spending almost all my time on Earth. I had to stay in Griff's body so that none of her friends and family got suspicious or judged her for dating "a million different guys". We got engaged. I got on one knee one night at this gay ass carnival in the ferriss wheel- the whole fucking cart was rocking back and forth and shit and it made her little hat fall off. Here I am, looking like a jackass, almost falling out of the ferris wheel, trying to propose to her. It was ridiculous. But she said yes and we made love and- dammit, it was just real nice, ok? My mansion back home in Ever was collectin' cobwebs and I was just fine with that. Unfortunately, the rest of Ever wasn't so fine with it. I had a job to do. I had a list of people I needed to be killing but I was addicted to the beautiful girl named Saori and I just couldn't get away. She didn't like me killing. She said that I didn't have to do it, ya know? But I did have to. She didn't know it, but everyday I didn't kill was a day I was put into excruciating pain. I was rotting from the inside out and I was trying to hide it from her because it would kill me for her to think I was a monster too. The truth was, I really was born to destroy, nothing more. I was pretending to be something I wasn't and it was literally destroying me. I started coughing bits of lung and puking sludge.


'Member those fuckers back in Ever I was tellin' you about earlier? Yeah, well, they knew this perfectly fine. Those goons understood what I was more than I did, honestly. So, they waited for a day when I was weak. By this point, all bloodied and decaying, I couldn't even leave my bed- could barely open my eyes- but I was determined to be everything Saori wanted. She stayed with me, crying all the time, "nursing me back to health". Looking back, I realize I should've just secretly done my business and kept it from her. A lie would have been a harmless offense in comparison to... what happened. She left for just a second. Left my side to go get some soup for me. Ha. Those fuckers killed her. I mean, actually killed her. Forever killed. Burned her at the stake. You know that the soul doesn't transfer to Ever when you're burned alive, right? It's the one way to keep someone from crossing. They raped her and burned her alive.

I ripped them to pieces as soon as I was strong enough to lift my hands. I was raging- totally infuriated. I killed hundreds of people in one week, just a machine gone haywire. Then I went back to Ever and I had a trial with the Queen to testify the crimes against me. You know what she told me? "You dare bed a human and seek my forgiveness?" and I was banished from my hoity toity royal estate up in The Hollow, and left with no place to go but the ghettos. Apparently in the six years I was gone, it became illegal to fuck around with the humans. You see, it's bad for society, all of these humans. There're so many of them and they're not high functioning. They just keep breeding like crazy and the Ever is getting crammed full of their mediocrity. It's true, but it's still wrong. So there've been laws passed- nonintercourse acts, nontolerance acts, all sorts of stupid shit trying to keep Ever's citizen's minds intheir asses, preventing them from ever seeing Earth and therefore removing sentimental feelings for them. I been puttin' up with this shit for a couple years before the final straw blew over. The Queen'd been fighting for her favorite act in particular- the "nullification act". I didn't think it'd be passed, but it has been. The plan is to set fire to all of Earth. The only way to stop it is by killing the Queen. And goddammit, I won't let this one go. Saori's parents are still living there. Her friends. Her house. I'll be drowned in my own piss before I let them get away with this shit."


Relations: M is a bit like his right hand woman, and has been for a while. He can be terribly mean to her, as she reminds him of Saori, and takes out a lot of his anger on the quiet asian butterfly. Itzy and him are on good terms, though not terribly close. He likes to bother her because she has such odd reactions.

[center]~All the wooonderful artwork is done by the ridiculously talented Kippery~

So begins...

Griff's Story


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The impatient, for lack of a better word, man sighed heavily into the crook of his own impossibly pale palm as he leaned across a brick building and stared agitatedly into the crowd of bustling corpses. "For fuck's sake, how long is it going to take these kids to pass through the rift?" he grumbled, an unpleasant scowl painted across his angular face. He didn't expect Carl, who'd been waiting this out with him for a while now, to respond, yet it didn't stop him from babbling anyway. The blokes he'd murdered just last night had still yet to emerge into Ever and it was currently well into the next morning, the second moon peaking far into the ethereal sky and perching right above the other one by now. Man, he despised a laggy rift. His hand darted from his chin to run through his hair. It wasn't that he was tired in the physical sense, as he didn't sleep, but that he was sick of standing in the same place for so long. He was a restless creature, always needing to do something. Just as he was beginning to think that perhaps it would suit him better to go get a pint, forget about the humans he'd offed last night, and start again new with a more punctual batch, a familiar glimmer (which might have been peculiar to any newcomer of Ever) rippled in the distance at the end of the line. Griff sprung off of the wall with a sharp intake of breath and trudged closer to the gate, shoving past dazed humans in his excited haste.

There, way in the back, a figure flickered into sight. Weathered, dark skin and a hulking mass pattered into visibility until it was clear that the man was none other than Duane. "Yes!" Griff called, slamming his fist into his opened palm before jogging back to Carl. "Our initiates have just arrived, buddy boy. Try to calm 'em if you can. I don't think all of 'em are gonna be too happy to see me." he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. He turned back around real quick to see the other new recruits appearing and clapped his hands together, a sloppy, crooked grin smeared across his stubbly jaw. It was hard to tell if he was acting like a kooky old man or an enthusiastic child, but whichever it was, it didn't suit his tough-guy exterior. As each one of the recruits got passed the gate, Griff would grab them by their wrist and drag them over to where Carl stood, for the most part ignoring their "Huh?"s an "Where am I?"s. Naturally, their thinking processes would be stunted for at least five minutes after arriving- something that was convenient for having complacent newcomers in Ever. The guides who ushered groups of them had a much easier job herding brain dead humans, that was for sure.

Once they were all collected and huddled together, he gave a friendly (in his sense, mind you) close-lipped smile. "So, um, what's hangin'?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pocket and staring eagerly at the group. After a moment of short lived silence, he shook his head and realized that he couldn't expect much of an answer. After all, to them, it'd been only a couple minutes since he'd been taking their lives, despite the fact that he'd been waiting for literally hours. In any case, he really needed to work on this 'leader' thing, didn't he? He racked his head for something cool and flashy to say, but couldn't come up with anything substantial, so instead pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered them to the group. "Smoke? he offered, handing the box to the person directly to his left with the expectation of them passing it along the line and back to him. "Right, right, I guess I promised an explanation. OK, well, my name is Griff in case you don't remember, and you'll be working for me for a hopefully short but truthfully indefinite period of time."

You're currently in Ever. Don't worry, you're not in hell or whatever. Heh, I guess the best way I can describe it is that Ever is kinda like the real world- or one of the real worlds, really- and Earth is sorta like a test drive. A day care for the subpar species, in a way. No offense. It's just, if you'd been born in Ever, imagine how terrible that'd be. I mean, you lot aren't even born with a collective knowledge to draw from. Sooo, you're placed on Earth to build up a set of skills and uses before you're shipped off to this dreary piece of shit."
he drawled. It was strange explaining such fundamental facts to them, and he was somewhat afraid that he'd forgotten to touch up on important information. His gaze swept over the landscape. It was dim and chilly, and all of the buildings around sported Gothic architecture and a good deal of weathering. They were off in a corner of the plaza in which all the new humans shuffled about.

"Oh!" he piped, rubbing his chin, "and, for the record, you are dead." He nodded as if to emphasize the point. "As in I did kill you. Sorry about that, I guess. Ok, ok, let me make this clearer. I'm on a mission to save Earth. The Queen of Ever is planning on destroying it, and that doesn't sit well with me. You're going to help me save it and I'll give you your life back. If you want it back. Whatever." he said whilst rubbing the crust away from his dark eyes and blinking a couple times. The entire time he'd been talking, he'd successfully avoided making any eye contact like he was trying to concentrate on the topic at hand and couldn't afford distractions. You could see him scanning through his mind to see if he'd forgotten something before he finally made a face that said he was mildly proud of himself. He finally took a look at the shoddy group of guys and gals and sniffed. "Any, uh... Any questions? Sorry if I didn't explain anything too well. Why doesn't everyone introduce themselves and you can ask anything you need after that, huh?" he piped, looking far too pleased than he should be. Humans were oh-so-very exciting.


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Before anyone had time to verbally club him outside the head, the familiar pitter patter of M's footsteps had tickled his eardrums. "Nothing." she had whispered into his ear. Griff would have reacted to said information rather dramatically if just moments later he hadn't being crushed in a sea of tyrannous banter. Truthfully, this was troubling news indeed. "Where the hell could they possibly be?" he thought, blinking several times in a way to supress his irritation. "Those jackasses better have an explanatio-" "-you one of those creepy fucks that gets off on killing girls in the middle of sex? Cause you might want to warn a chick next time you’re gonna try it. Only fair to give them a head start running.” the blonde droned sassily, seeming so aggravated that she might kick a bunny as she pulled out her iPod. Yanked out of his short lived reverie, Griff bit back a coltish laugh, bringing a knuckle to his mouth, though muffled remnants of his delight trickling out through the sides still. Lightly chuckling, he came up with a response. "You know, I was gonna deny it, but that's happened too often for me to say so truthfully. Accidents, of course. I swear, I wasn't trying to seduce you when we first spoke." he said, the smugness in his grin conveying the notion that she had been seduced despite this quite clearly. "Wait a sec- were you even listeni-" he began to ask, realizing that she wouldn't have assumed that's why she was in Ever if she'd paid the slightest bit of attention to his spiel. His slightly offended but still playful accusation was cut off by the woman with the hair that matched the sky behind her so well it almost blended in added in her own two cents.

“Uh, not to get in the middle of whatever the fuck you and blondie have going on, but that was the shittiest explanation for anything I’ve ever heard. What the hell is a Queen of Ever? Is she a god? How’s she gonna destroy Earth? Why? Oh, and why the fuck didn’t you just ask people who were already dead to help you? Since we’re so sub-fucking-par.” said the icy eyed short cake, a bark so ferocious that he wouldn't doubt she had a bite to match. Before he could respond, the cowboy was already taking care of it. Which one of the lassies he was talking to, Griff couldn't tell. It applied to either of them, really, and he was grateful for the short distraction regardless.

"Ma'am, much as I 'preciate what you're saying, I have to admit that this is, after all, the man that stuck somethin' very sharp through the back of y'all's head and killed you in a matter of seconds, so can we try to refrain from insultin' him? Just to save our own necks for a while longer, see? Ah got nothin; 'sides saying that if yore plannin' to hit that girl there, ah would suggest either tellin' me to walk away or turn my back so I'm not inclined to bust you one right here and now." the bronzed old timer had said.Griff instinctively hunched his shoulders in time to raising opened palms and forming an incredilous "o" shape with his mouth, as if to say, "Oh, come on. Are you serious?" Pushing his surprise back, he reponded. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, you guys, but I'm not runnin' around smackin' gits," he said, snaking an arm around M's shoulder and squeezing in a hokey demonstration of his apparent friendliness. He released her as quickly as he'd grabbed her, "and harming blokes already perfectly situated in the Ever. I come in peace! ... or whatever." he said, avoiding the eyes of the black haired woman who'd asked questions he'd stealthily avoided. Perhaps not so eager to answer questions after all.

"Ponyboy and the Greasers." the one he'd found hopped up on drugs snarked quietly. At that comment, Griff's head tilted on its side like swinging on a hinge, a sorta-smile that read as somewhat amused, somewhat embarrassed, and somewhat irritated. "Really?" his onyx eyes twinkled. He huffed out of his nose as his lips wriggle about his jaw in this weird grin. Finally, he sighed out a simple "Alright, alright," along with an understanding head nod and eye roll. "I get it. I'm a bit outdated. Time doesn't work the same in Ever as it does on Earth, anyway." he dismissed.

"Do you promise that you'll give our lives back to us? This is kind of a big deal, I don't want to go into this without that assurance." Piped the other woman- Mona, if he recalled correctly. Finally seeming to have had enough with all the poking and prodding, he threw his hands up in the air. "Look- I'm not a bad guy!" he defended. It may have seemed like he had been wounded that they hadn't marvelled at his charms. Truth be told, he really couldn't give a rat's ass whether they liked him so long as they worked for him efficiently, but Griff had always found that others felt more obliged to do a good job when on fond terms with the dude giving the commands. Indeed, their affections were hardly necessary for Boogey, but a pony show is a pony show and he'd already purchased a shit ton of miniature saddles. There was a pause while he scrucnhed up his face as if in thought. "Ok, I guess it depends on your particular view of morality, I'll give you that. I'd argue that my morning breath is at least... Oh, I'd say.... 25 times worse than any crime I've ever committed, though. I'm actually less of a guy and more of a thing, too, but details, details. I want everyone to take a deep breath and calm down. No offense meant. I know this is all very new and scary, but I promise I'll hold your hand if you need." he drawled, not intending to come off as patronizing but still managing. "Can't you have a little faith in me? Why else would I spend all that time and effort killing you? " Perhaps not his most convincing argument, but certainly not his worst.