What: First meetings Where: Kitchen
When: Late evening
Warnings: TBD
Status: Closed and Ongoing
Kopus did not like feeling trapped. He'd spent enough time in prison to have developed a raging dislike for walls and boundaries. He had never handled confinement well, and it really didn't matter if it was a prison cell, or an estate, or a whole damn city that held him. Because he couldn't leave, he was desperate to get out. At least here he could leave the house, stretch his legs, physically assault an innocent tree or two along the way. Not that it helped with the paranoia he felt, or the overwhelming feeling that he was no longer in control of his own life.
He'd gone out for a jog, running until he couldn't run anymore. Eventually he'd made his way back to the Hargreeves estate. He used to envy people who lived in such wealth; he'd lay awake well into the night wondering why he had to be born into abject poverty, and the shittiest situation he could imagine. His outlook hadn't gotten much better as he grew up, though he now knew wealth and fancy, expensive houses didn't make life better. It was just a different kind of cage. Kopus hated cages.
He made his way to the kitchen. He was a big guy, and as such required a lot of food just to maintain. He'd spent a lot of his life not knowing where his next meal was coming from. Here, it was practically handed to him on a silver platter. He was going to take advantage of that. He pulled the stuff out to make a sandwich, and set to work on what might be a meal for someone else, but was little more than a snack for him.
He was just about to put everything away when he heard someone come into the kitchen. Paranoia had him expecting an ambush, instinct had him turning around to see who it was. Some scrawny curly haired twerp from the looks of him. "You want a sandwich?" Kopus grunted at him. Figured he could at least ask before he put everything away.