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Mayhem

 
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Amare Kellis
Young Wyrm
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 6:56 pm    Post subject: Mayhem Reply with quote

(( Many thanks to those that played along. Room log edited for content, ease or reading, etc.))

What was that horrible rumble? A truck, an OLD truck, beat to death by time and neglect. Someone along some sort of line was supposed to fix it, but that was a long line of time ago. Somewhere the Were had ignored some oil change, or tune up, so now the beast of a 350 backfired and sputtered around. After a while you could even get used to the noises, you could almost let it grow on you. Until the question of gunfire or car trouble came back into play. Pulling into the inn Quinn shut off the engine and looked to the right with a smile that could cut through ice. "See, you didn't die!" Tossing the keys onto the dash he climbed out and hit the ground with a crunch of boots on gravel. Door slammed and he headed for the porch. Never looking back, because no one would steal this piece of... fine... American... yeah.

"This... I don't even know what this is," his hands spread out towards the dash of the truck-monster that smelled like grease and greasy-men. He snorted and when they came to that cloud of dust gravel stop he reached for the truck’s door handle and popped it out, dropping to his feet and giving the door the slam it needed to ensure it would shut. "You have all this money... I mean, seriously. Sometimes you just chuck the useless for something useful? Yeah? No?" A spread of his hands out to the sky as he shrugged. What did he know? His left hand dropped into the front pocket of his slacks. Amare's suit was neat, a steel blue with a black buttoned up shirt beneath that was no longer tucked in. His right hand fished in his jacket pocket for his cigarettes as they walked to the front of the inn.

“This, is the beast. And you will treat her with the respect you would give your..." What would Amare respect? He couldn't think of anything and just waved a hand around as if what he would respect didn't matter. Quinn was in black docs, jeans a grey undershirt and a black button up. Shirt open like some sort of 90's renegade. Cabby cap on his head was moved back a bit and he looked over his shoulder to Amare and laughed. "I can tell you, I will replace it when it dies. And that is not an invite to kill her. Please." The please sounded like an afterthought of some sort of politeness. They looked like they came from a meeting, AA or the likes. The business man and his humble sponsor except, they were walking into a bar, so, that was probably not the case. Quinn held the door with a sweeping of arm as if to usher Amare inside.

Both his eyebrows raised up at Quinn as he spoke. His left hand tugged out of his pant's pocket as he pulled a cigarette from its pack. His stride paused long enough for him to light up before catching up. What the Hell? When did Quinn read minds? He gave one more look over his shoulder at the truck. They weren't over, that was a talk for another time. With the flourish of holding open the door Amare took the opportunity to play it up. The cigarette at his lips was pulled away, his chin was pointed up and he gave an elitist stride on past, muttered, "Thank you, plebeian."

"You're so welcome my majestic and benevolent King." Words rolled around with just enough jest to make it not entirely believable. To the bar! He turned and made straight for the purpose of the evening. Arms up to lift him up and over the swing door at the break in the bar. Dropping down he peered around the room. Real lively tonight. Bottle of scotch brought from the top shelf all the way in the bars back. It was dropped on the bar and glasses were inspected, okay, clean...ish? He didn't care.

A gypsy, half the time he ate, well he only knew because of his keen sense of smell, and for no other reason. "You want what? Like a Zima and some cherries?" Made to look like he was looking for zima, he ducked himself into the cooler and dug around a bit. Free hand dropping an ashtray that Amare surely wouldn't use onto the counter between them.

"I do declare," a dramatic Southern-style wave of a hand at his face before he slipped out of his jacket, dumping it on a nearby barstool before he sat. His blues were for Quinn, his smile being one which positively suited him, "Oh, and here I thought you were on a path to torture me. I love seeing this amount of heart in you." Quinn was right. He ashed his cigarette on the bar and took another pull. "It's been so long since someone got me a drink." He leaned forward with a fake whisper, "Do I tip you?"

He nodded and winked, there would be time for tips all the while later. "There could be Kima...passion fruit soda from the Azores...Yummy. You'd be floored, but you'd be sober. So maybe something with a little more kick." Quinn was trying to think and he shook his head. Cosmo time. He grabbed the vodka and tossed some into a shaker, peeking inside he nodded and added cranberry, then some cointreau and watched it splash in. Looking around he wondered if a lemon was as good as a lime. OH there were the limes. It was smooshed into the shaker and then shaken, liquid only going MOSTLY everywhere before it was put into one of those foofie martini glasses. Eyes into the shaker, he'd made three or four but the shaking had seen many fall. He set the shaker with its contents beside the glass. Both pushed towards Amare. "There ya go sailor. A zima for today’s man on the go." Four fingers of scotch poured into a tumbler and he raised it for Amare.

"Wow... you put like... a hundred times more care into that drink than I would have." Most of his drinks had battered husband syndrome. While sipping, you could hear his drinks sniffle and say they fell down the stairs. The little supermodel of a drink sat in front of him, suspiciously pretty and tasty-looking. And, oh my, a drink and a reload given to him? What service. "You're not... about to tell me you have cancer, are you?" He lifted his glass, tinking it against Quinn's before he took a swallow, putting one elbow to the bar and then leaning his weight onto it as he looked at him. One eyebrow was raised, the hard side-cut of his smile already there. Okay, the drink was good. Not too sweet and not like the punch in the throat he usually made. Saila was missing out.

A burst of laughter stifled by scotch. Quinn couldn't help but feel his plan to be a **** had gone terribly wrong. There was a little time to think on that before he was snapped back to reality with the cancer talk. "I don't think we can have cancer can we? I mean...If we can you might wanna rethink the whole..." pantomime of smoking, excessively hand to mouth and away several times in quick succession. A taunt line of mouth at the end to express worry. "You'll be dead by..." Checks his watch and frowns deeply. "Yesterday." A cross made for Amare with the side of his palm in the air between them. "He was a good guy, a little tapped, but we'll miss him." Shake of head. "No I am not dying but I am restless. And I think we need more family. So maybe I am having an instinct of we should expand." We should expand was put in finger quotes to show how silly it truly was.

A line of smoke blown right at Quinn when the 'yesterday' landed. Tongue rolled along his inner molars and he laughed, his smile seeming sharp even though his teeth weren't. "Sounds like the eulogy for the wrong guy, Daddy-O." He crossed one leg over the other when Quinn said that E word. Expand? Amare was on the verge of rolling his eyes, but Quinn acknowledged it before he could. He admitted, with some reluctance, "Yeah, there's a guy sniffin' around me. Smelled weird and he's kinda weird. Has to be, right? Something about because he's an orphan or... whatever. I dunno. Oh! I'm going to open a bar in a month. Maybe two. You'll be at the opening?" He even bat his eyelashes, oh-so-dramatically for Quinn before barking a laugh.

"The last thing you should be opening is a bar..." Well there were other things he shouldn't be opening, himself to a stranger, his mind to change...Maybe a store that exclusively sold wind up toys for the seven children in the realms. All these damn babies and no children, how does that even work? These were the things that kept Quinn with a vague almost far away look about him at all times. "But tell me about the guy, he seem like a good guy?" There was a spark of something there in that question, but what was it, hope maybe? Concern? It was gone too soon behind a sip from the tumbler and eyes to the door. Quiet night this one.

"It's a growing bar! I mean... she's slightly not on the up-and-up like her dad," he patted the current face of the bar they were at, "but I have a feeling she'll be precocious." The subject began to focus on the other wolf and Amare shrugged a bit. Quinn was asking him whether or not he perceived someone to be stable. The irony of that not lost on anyone, especially Quinn, "He's... yeah, I guess he's a good guy? He wants a pack so bad it stinks on him. Or has a lack of stink on him." There was a roll of his shoulders to follow. Pink drink lifted, a dignified swallow followed, "You telling me to bring him forth?"

The bar is growing? There was a moment where he could have tried to ask a thousand questions but it would be easier to just talk to Saila, or hug her, hell, any touch would explain that but there were more pressing matters at hand. "So this new guy, he's interested in an alpha, or an Alpha's beta?" He was prodding. "I am not telling you anything, I am asking you if you think you should bring him forth."

The moment was weird, mostly because what he thought and felt were usually pushed to the side. If he was valid or not never seemed to matter, the harsh exterior to the harsh interior had shoved people so far away that he didn't often have the chance of feeling heard. He wet his lips, looking at Quinn. His voice grew soft, vulnerable because he was hearing him, "Yeah, he's a good guy. Better than me and lost." A salute of his drink and he took another swallow, looking away. Amare always felt that being replaced, like that crappy truck in the lot, was his fate. He was a problem, a sore, but Quinn hadn't gotten rid of either of them. Sabien was probably the sort of wolf that Quinn wished he had. "He's younger... calmer... I dunno. There's some damage there." No one spent time with him unless there was a hurt in them.

A shoulder to the door and Artem was inside. He paused here, hands in the pockets of his jacket, wool coat buttoned to the collar. He squinted and blinked some, eyes adjusting to the light as he swept left-to-right as though he was reading. He recognized Amare - and that was it. And he was engaged. A slow pan of his eyes to the hearth, a hand rising and fingers combing through his hair. Considering.

"Then you should present him. To the...Well to me, seeing as we are the entire pack now." That was something Quinn had spent a fair bit of time thinking about. There were other packless wolves around, but he didn't want Amare to become one of those. Madness went hand and hand with packlessness, and he didn't want any of that. "If you're willing to work with him, I am willing to see him as one of us." Whoa, curveball, clearly Amare wasn't being replaced. Quinn instead was giving him a project. Which, sorta meant that Saila was getting a project of a project. Oh he would either be hearing about how elated she was or how he really fudged the bucket on this one.

"Surrrreeeeeeee boss, I'll bring him immediately forth." His eyes ticked to the door to see Artem entered, to whom he smiled. The fellow went to the hearth, but he didn't pursue. He kept to the bar and then looked back at Quinn, putting out his cigarette and then folding his arms. He dropped his head to rest them atop them. Amare was grinning at him, which seemed fairly foreboding considering his track record. "We should play a game."
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That escalated quickly.
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Amare Kellis
Young Wyrm
Young Wyrm


Joined: 31 Mar 2014
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 7:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The mountain of a Were copied the pose of his counterpart, head onto folded arms, on the bar, across from him. A twinkle, a glimmer of excitement. "Does it involve eating something?" He was thinking with his stomach. It had quickly been decided to bring the new guy forward and Amare was already onto the next thing. Quinn may end up pantsless and embarrassed, as games often went, but who can say no to a face like that?!

Artem rolled his neck, exhaling a smooth sigh, blinking as his eyes fixed on the flames. When he rounded the couch, he checked it for occupancy. One could never be too sure. He stretched up, arms to the ceiling with a soft grunt before he sat upon the couch - fishing from his pocket his phone.

"Is this a game where we hide in the closet and make out? Because I feel that would be mildly strange" A swat at Amare who was not telling him about the game and it was making him insane having to wait on what it was.

"It certainly can." His smile broadened and then he propped himself up on his elbows, testing the distance between them. It wasn't a nuzzle, but it was damn sure close, "I had this thought the other day," soft beginnings. That was the way to being heard. A gentle voice, a nearness so that when he spoke his words still had the scent of him on it, "I was-- what, mildly strange? You mean amazing." He snorted and then drew up one finger at Quinn to refocus the discussion, "I was thinking that we should go play hide and go seek with Saila. She hides some shots around and... if we find her, we win. If we find where we think she is... we drink. And then make out in a closet. Weirdly."

Hide and go seek with the purple squirrel! How was that not a win?

"This might be the best game I have EVER heard of. First place to look-- behind the bar in the alley, she hides clothes back there for me sometimes so I don't have to come in here naked. Maybe she hid shots there too!?" Eyes went to the back door and before Amare could say anything OUT was Quinn searching in the back alley for shots.

"But we haven't even started the ga--" but Quinn was gone and he shrugged, tipping back his pink drink of whatever it was that had been made for him. He cleared his throat, lifting the shaker to refill it. So it was one of those kinda nights.

He set the phone on his thigh as he unbuttoned his coat. Wiggling out of his, he dragged it out from behind his back and folded it over the back of the couch. His attention returned to the flames for a bit, lips pursing and eyes narrowing a tick.

"There's nothing there cause... Saila.... whatever." He stood up, circling away from his barstool with his drink in hand. His suit jacket was left behind. He then invited himself to the hearth where Artem was, dropping into one of the singular chairs that faced the hearth. He sipped his pink cocktail, adding, "It's not bad. There's more if you want it." The drink shaker sat atop the bar, looking important."Who are you?" Did the question feel familiar? It should have.

Another blink, mouth relaxing. Eyebrows raise for the comment, not sure of what he meant. He was about to respond with a question when he had a question to answer. His mouth resolved into a crooked grin. "... Artem Rozanov. You are Amare." He learned.

"There was the arch of one of his eyebrows. Artem. He settled in his chair and was clearly trying to determine what had been given to him, and by whom. Another swallow of his Quinn-prepped pink drink, "I'm at a disadvantage, you see. There is an inequality of knowledge between us, which must be fixed."

"Disadvantage?" He would assume nothing, and leaned forward such that his elbows rested on his thighs, hands coming together.

"Mmmm. I have questions for you." Intermittent sips of his drink taken during the conversation. His blond hair, slicked back, had some threads coming loose to touch his brow and temple.

He rubbed his hands together, an eyebrow raising with a cheeky grin. "Who are you to ask questions of me?"

"We already covered that. Amare. I'm Amare." A small shrug of his shoulders, unphased by the questioning of his right to ask. He cleared his throat, "If you were able to do anything you wanted without consequence... what would it be?" Oh, don't be lame. Don't be boring. Amare held his glass. the first question of Artem had him wondering if there would even be an answer. Then again, there were grins, the playful little show of teeth that was amusement or endearment. Only when those smiles hit someone's eyes did it mean anything else.

His hands paused and his eyebrows relaxed. The one question raised several of his own. Why? being the top of the charts. "... I would be bolder." It was a generic answer, but it was an answer. "Take much bigger risks."

"You're speaking generally-- I want specifics. Be bolder now, and be bolder... how?" He finished his drink and set it down, his weight leaned forward to where his elbows were on his knees. His eyes were a challenge to Artem. Amare hoped for a real answer, not something that politely explained the circumstances and why the blah blah blah... No, he just wanted to know. What he wanted was marrow, not a duvet.

His jaw worked. He was not blinking. He saw the challenge via the filter of instinct. He had seen this many times before. In the moment, he made the decision to accept. Without glancing here or there, he remained as he was. Leaned forward, hands together, elbows to thighs. "To stop lingering here by the hearth. To step into the open and reach out to take what I want." His palm opened towards Amare, and closed into a fist. "To be a man who can possess and retain." His fist relaxed. "Rather than just possess." He raised his chin, still eyes fixed on Amare. "But that is only one aspect. One per question. Now you answer. Same."

"You answered me still in terms that are vague." He pointed at Artem and rose to take his glass to the bar and refill it from the shaker Quinn left him with. His eyes squinted at the back alley door. Surely his alpha would be back once he realized.... maybe. A wolf could get distracted with rats, no doubt. He filled his drink and returned, this time sitting uncomfortably beside Artem. The man might have known by now that he enjoyed seeing what someone would do when he pressed the envelope, "I'm doing it. Right now. I'm curious, so I'm following through," he leaned back, sipping from his pink martini with so much class, "What are you trying to possess and retain? Don't be so vague. It's annoying."

"What is annoying is that I am a filler until your companion returns." He leaned back, thick arm extending along the back of the couch. His head tilting some, still watching Amare. "A curiosity for your vanity." His eyes narrowed. "Use your imagination, Amare. I will not fight for your attention. Not so soon." Beat. "Perhaps such a conversation is best reserved when I can possess and retain your undivided attention." He emphasized both words that he had been using: possess and retain.

The answer was... well, it was perfect. His jaw went slack and then he laughed. It was a sharp laugh, the sort weighed with an acidic interest. Amare was beside himself with amusement and so he reached, tugging out his cellphone, "You think you can handle my undivided attention? I'm not known for being gentle. Okay. Undivided attention. Let's schedule." Now he was there, willing to call Artem's bluff as he held his phone. Waiting for a number. Waiting to assign a Day of Artem.

He announced his number for Amare to record. "Let us hope that by then your attention is still something I want to possess. Consequences are for everyone, not just Artem. But if not, then we can still meet. For my vain amusement." His turn to smile, teeth perfect, though he did not laugh.

"Amusement is a two way street. What could I possibly do to secure your attention?" He was busy, typing in the digits. He repeated them to himself as his fingers slid over the glass face of his phone. When he thought he had it secure he looked at him, "I'm the child of consequences, I only expire with inaction." It sounded like a poem, but it wasn't. Not even close. It was a half response to a half saying, but he still smiled. Sitting on the couch with him, he wasn't afraid to lean into Artem. It was at that moment that he not-so-secretly, sniffed at him. *What* was he dealing with?

"It is something we will learn together." He noted the sniff, and craned his neck closer to Amare, closing the distance between them even more. The sniff was responded to in kind, eyes half-lid. "Let us agree to leave all assumptions behind." His voice was deep in how quiet he was speaking, his vocal rhythm steady and ostinato. "Thank you, Amare."

In from the back door, Quinn ran in holding a bottle of liquor and looking as if he'd been chased. "I didn't find Saila's shots, but I found a homeless man with vodka!" Running full speed to Amare who he hadn't realized hadn't been looking for shots. A furrow of brow and a look between the new man and Amare. Tossing the bottle at his blonde counterpart and running towards the bar to find his scotch once more.

Artem's neck had been offered up to his teeth. It was close, soft, pungent with the scent of his skin. The quiet rhythm of his voice was echoed by his body, the gentle curve of his throat. He didn't know how to react to the vulnerability, especially since he wanted to devour it with no dates of anticipation in some hypothetical future. His jaw flexed and relaxed. Was it a kiss? He nuzzled Artem's neck and then, well, Quinn was back in. His attention snapped and he felt like cold water had been poured on him. Oh crap. He flinched and then caught the bottle, his laughter like breaking glass, "Homeless men with vodka taste the absolute best." He rose to his feet, unscrewing the bottle of vodka, "Saila isn't aware of the game yet... so she can't hide our shots. They should have gummie bears in them, don't you think?"

He made no movement or sound. He watched Quinn arrive and Amare respond. Only when the seat had been vacated did he relax back. He checked his phone to see if Amare had sent a message or called, thus giving Artem a way to store his phone number. His eyes then returned to the fire. His smile absent and hungry.

Val’s Bare feet led down the stairs and a delicately boned hand trailed along the banister as he made his way from his room. He wore a dark blue and white aloha shirt open to expose the white undershirt below. His trousers were khaki colored and rolled loosely up to show off boney ankles. Dark hair was pulled back behind his head and dark almond eyes that held a whole lot of lifetimes behind them. His mouth was a slash against the pale brown skin that hugged the narrow but high cheekbones that told there were no familiar faces amongst the crowd, but that didn't stop Val from greeting those he passed by with a friendly but quiet, "Aloha," and a small smile. He continued this until he was finally behind the bar. He paused in his steps at the coffee pots. A breathed chuckle, barely discernible, and he continued to the cooler to find a bottle of beer.

"Of course they should!" Quinn had lost his button down somewhere in the Chase the Homeless Game that was supposed to be the Hide and Get Smashed Game. He felt himself up, pockets and such, wondering where he'd left his keys, wallet, cell phone, everything. Wallet found in his back pocket and he grabbed a couple bills and began folding them. Sure to stay out of (Val)'s way while they were both behind the bar. "Is this the new guy?" Not looking at the man with Amare, instead, folding the bills into a sturdy triangle and flicking them one after another at the angry till viper. "He doesn't smell like one of us, but he was quick to give you his throat." Waggling brows, before he reached up to grab his abandoned scotch. A kiss of drink splashed over his lips before he smiled and finally looked to the other man. Pity, offer throat to a killer, and wind up dead. Scurry scurry of eyes over him.

"Sorry," Val laughed softly as he moved around the guy (Quinn) to get to the patron side of the bar. He found a barstool not too far away from the rest of the crowd and climbed up. Or maybe it was slid onto the stool. Yes, it was more of a slide. Rocking from left, to right, to left, he flipped his hair back from his shoulder in a gesture that was purely habit. His beer was opened with a "psst" sound and he took the first drink as the cap was set onto the bar.

His body twisted to look at Artem and then back to Quinn, "No, he's not... as far as I can tell... he's... something… else?" The entire statement was awkward, ending with his shrug. He upended the bottle of vodka and then half gagged, "It tastes like homeless and cigarettes." There was another shrug of his shoulders to what Quinn said, but he wasn't wrong. There were, undeniably, bodies in his wake. His hands had the mark of blood and maybe Artem knew it, maybe not. Quinn was going to level that playing field for him instantly, which was weird. He had the impulse to dress it up, to play along like you know, maybe that was possible. What there was was between him and Artem was a text message saying 'Friday. My bar.' Amare took a seat at the bar near Quinn, grinning at the lost shirt, "Aren't you adorable."

"Next time I'll rob a Lord or something and you can sip brandy with your pinky out." The gypsy winked and leaned a bit closer to Amare with a whisper. "I am indeed." Bonk of nose with the tip of his index finger. Amare was going to either bite him, or play along. Quinn assumed the former, but hoped for the latter. "Better watch out for hose something elses. They are nearly always boring, or trouble." Musing a moment before another sip of scotch filled the space between them with a glass and the stale smell of harsh liquor.
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Amare Kellis
Young Wyrm
Young Wyrm


Joined: 31 Mar 2014
Posts: 63
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Can Be Found: Rhydin
3883.80 Silver Crowns

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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 7:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Artem stood, unfolding his coat and sliding arms into sleeves. He buttoned it up, rolling forward on the ball mounts of his feet before relaxing back on his heels. He turned and made way for the door.

Amare’s teeth clipped the air. Close to biting but, but not quite yet. He didn't mind being trouble, he didn't mind being reckless, but he had come to understand that Quinn had the upper hand. That knowledge was nested somewhere in the back of his mind. His eyes followed Artem on his departure, gaze swinging to Quinn, "Yeah. Probably." He took another swig of homeless vodka.

Val's smile grew as he listened in on the conversation between the shirtless one and the blond one. Something about the pair spelled trouble. He ventured an "Aloha, brahs," to them anyway with his fist raised, pinky and thumb extended outward.

They were only werewolves getting drunk. What was there to be afraid of?

At the quick retreat he cocked his head to one side with furrowed brows. "Not very friendly that one eh..." and then there was a (Val) and the brow unfurrowed and his smile returned. "Aloha to you too!" Back to Amare. "Amazing word that, hello, and goodbye, literally the epitome of cool right?"

"And I love you," he added to the list of things that Aloha could possibly mean. Val took a lean against the bar with his side and took another pull from the bottle. He barely looked old enough to consume alcohol and in most states, he wasn't.

"I thought it was a word only tourists used?" He said with a shrug,shuffling up to Quinn's side with a grin and wag of his eyebrows, "So why am I drinking your discovery and you are drinking scotch?"

It was overcast but not quite as absolutely freezing as it had been. Saila strolled up the path and onto the porch, her hands in her pockets as she pushed the door open with the toe of one boot. Stepping inside, she was all black on black -- black jeans, black boots, black hoodie -- but for the violently vibrant purple locks that poured down her back in loosely curling waves. The laces in her knee high boots were wide satiny purple ribbons, which totally counted as fashion. Just ask her. She stepped inside, her long legged stride carrying her directly to the bar, where she promptly insinuates herself between her two wolves, draping one arm over each of them.

The cuddle had just started! Amare would have protested but... well, it was Saila. So he looked down at her and then broke into a grin, "I have just the drink for her." Stop him, someone.

"So it can also mean you love me? Huh..." A nod as if that was one of the cooler things he'd ever heard. Maybe it was the man's hair or maybe his general laid back attitude but he'd ALMOST caught all of Quinn's attention until his own personal supergirl was front and center, and he nuzzled against her before perking and shaking his head to Amare. "Don't you do it! She doesn't need your drink! I got that JUST for you!”

No one needed to tell Saila he'd been chased 24 blocks by a man with six coats for that bottle. And no one should tell her, either. Just saying.

"So my drunkness is what... a community problem? Sure. I mean... I feel slightly inclined towards nudity because... really, when has the Guard arrested ANYONE?" He grinned and, as if to threaten, he unbuttoned his shirt. Hell, Quinn was already shirtless so it wasn't as though he was groundbreaking. He was just doing what "dad" was doing.

There was an instant flush to his cheeks and those almond eyes grew round when the man quipped back. He laughed at himself, realizing his slip of the tongue. He took another drink and then the blond was threatening nudity. "Oh my," he nearly giggled. Sliding off of the stool he went back around the bar to get another beer.

"Wait, are we getting naked?" The girl with the purple hair and the really peculiar eyes lifted both brows looking from Amare to Quinn and back. "Is this a game?"

"Say yes," a not-so-whisper side-whisper to Quinn.

"This is not a game!" Eyes shot to Amare in the way that said if you don't keep your clothes on, and she starts taking hers OFF you're in deep ****. Yes, looks could say that. And they just did. A hand reaches into the narnia bag and he pulls out a shirt. A black t-shirt that smells like teen girl and looks like it MIGHT go to his midriff. No this wasn't his. More digging and he found a white ribbed tank top. There we go. Without a word he was getting a shirt on. "The game is to wear our clothes until we are not in my line of vision and then you can get naked as all get out. Mahalo." A smirk to the blushing kid getting another beer. Apparently this is bring your person who isn't old enough to drink, to drink, night!

“You're the worst. The lamest." He tipped back his bottle of vodka with the same authority of a retired, elderly woman who had smoked her whole life and never watched her diet. Settled on a barstool with one leg crossed over the other, there was now Daddy-O to dull the fun. Not that it would entirely deter him. His eyes flicked to Mist as he stepped up from the growing crowd of others in the inn and nodded. Now his attention was getting a little more fixed on this person Quinn kept addressing in Hawaiian. Dude was giggling. Oh, excellent-- he was already checking under his nails and then looked at Quinn with the 'this is happening' expression.

Val might have gained a slightly disappointed look upon his face when it was announced that the game was to be clothed. "Mahalo!" he called back with a crooked grin that wiped the disappointment off of his face. He carried two bottles of beer with him this time as he escaped to the patron side of the bar and onto that stool. Being all of 5' 2" the man looked like a child compared to the proud oak trees that sat not too far away.

Someone just needed to be eaten. He probably tasted like pineapple.

Pfft. Saila'd never been carded yet, thank you very much. She stood still while Quinn dug around in her bag and greeted someone else in a different language. Her gaze slid towards the stranger. "Oh, hey. He's cute," she ...just kind of announced to the room at large.

"Heyyy... Malhaheyeyo..." Amare moved right into that neighboring barstool to Val, his left hand still holding the handle of Homeless Vodka as he did so.

Another absent flare of smile as Mist stepped around the bar, reaching over to take down a mug and moved to dip up hot cider. Then he turned to pick up the cognac bottle, adding a shot to the mug.

Well, Saila used to have both arms draped around her wolves. Now one of her wolves was escaping, that arm hanging limply at her side.

"Mahalo," he chuckled when the lady with the purple locks spoke. The second bottle was opened up just as one of the oak trees sat down. "Hey," he tried not to laugh and took a swig to repress.

Quinn loved watching everyone and had yet to unsnuggle. "Mahalo..." Eyes to Saila, "Super cute right?" Trying to put his finger on why. As if the word twink was RIGHT out of his reach. What was he? Nineteen, maybe twenty. Quinn could be his Dad, but then again, he had a long history of could have been his Dads. Hand wrapped around the scotch again now that he was dressed as dressed could be. In Quinn terms. Was Amare going to get two dates tonight? That rascal. A nudge of his elbow to Saila as he watched the mack master at work.

"Have you met Simone yet?" she asked as a quiet aside to Quinn, her eyes on Amare and his new catc--friend. Without looking, she reached for Quinn's scotch bottle, opening and closing her ringed fingers in a quick series of flaps that was the universal sign for gimme.

Technically, he was on team eat-this-one-as-soon-as-Quinn-wasn't-looking. Val was so laid back and at ease that it was, well, oddly endearing. Amare just smiled at him brightly and nodded as if he understood, "Oh yeah, Mahalyoyo, that, exactly." He set down his bottle of vodka, "I suppose you're just... sweetly misguided when you came to this bar?"

"It's a very lovely bar, but the patrons are questionable. I'm not saying... I'm just saying."

"Brah?" his brows lifted as he turned towards the oak tree beside him. The man was destroying his language! "Naht had nah problems, yet." He took a lean, pushing that long dark hair back over his shoulder. "Don't 'pect tah have any now?" He blinked innocently and took another drink.

Bottle handed over without any hesitation, and without having to look. "No, I don't know him, Simone. Is that the one that he's going to present to the pack?" As if it were some grand pack of many men and women, willing to fight for territory and riches. Really it was a couple of crazies having a lot of fun. Watching the two. "How long before I intervene and make sure our dude bro doesn't get snapped at?"

"Yeah... brah whatever aloha." Amare nodded at him, keeping his animated smile on. Whatever pineapple on pizza had to say was just fine. "You... alone here? Friends? Family? Or just... randomly hanging at a bar all by yourself?" He was nearly corporate clean cut, a black button up untucked, hanging over his steel blue slacks. The shine of his shoes said they were clean, that he'd just come from a car to the bar. Amare only understood half of what he was saying, it showed by the semi-vacant response of his gaze. Yep. Sure. Whatever, Brah.

"Oh, no. Simone is a bar. A baby bar. We're reading Harry Potter to her as she grows." Saila said this all very seriously as she wrapped her fingers around the neck of the bottle and brought it to her lips. Swallowing a healthy (or not so healthy) measure of Scotch, she offered it back even as she turned at an angle, the better to lean against Quinn's side. Don't mind her, just... using the towering wolf as furniture. It's a thing. She had a watchful eye on Amare, though she wasn't looking at the cut of his expensive suit or even the tension in his shoulders. It was something else she was tracking, a dial that was slowly rising. "Not...yet. Soon, probably."

Val knew enough when to dish and when to evade. His brows rose to the questioning and when the semi-interrogation was over he cut his eyes over to the other tree with the cute as a button ornament beside it, then back to the oak tree present. "You make a cute couple, brah."

"WE DO. Just, adorbs. Anyway," He wrapped one arm around Val, sniffing at him and then tilting his head to the side, "Would you say that you bake yourself regularly or is the tan just natural?" Was this beef jerky or poached?

"Amare." Was a stern word. Just one. The kind that sorta sounded like Heel. A simple, single word with a little more power than he liked to use behind it. There was the whole cute couple bit. Wait...Who was a cute couple? He and Amare? That would be way more than cute, they would be insane, smokin’, and probably the sexiest power couple in crazy town. Or did he mean he and his daughter? Eyes to Saila and wondered if they gave off the dating vibe. Maybe he should let Amare eat the young man? It was all up in the air.
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 8:32 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

With a spine as loose as his, Val easily twisted, shrank and slid off of the barstool to get out from under the branch that had fallen onto his shoulders. He waved a finger and laughed. He snatched one of the bottles off of the bartop and then jumped, flat footed onto the bar.

"Of course," he might have followed Val, being that he snapped and moved with the temptation of a piece of string being dangled. It wasn't like with Artem, here he just had the urge to.. be a cat and claw and chew. Quinn told him to heel and Amare was left to give a mild, resigned shrug and-- surprisingly, do just that. He slipped into place beside Quinn, all heeled and behaved with his homeless vodka. Amare's eyes went up to where Val was on the bar, but he was mentally chanting to himself that brah was boring and probably tasted like seaweed.

Brah was borrrinngggg. Not tasty at all. So boring. Not chewy at all. He probably tasted like (gasp) fake pineapple. Not even the real thing. Mahaloyoyoyy.... whatever, he likely was making words up.

Seeing that he was not being chased, Val walked to where his unopened beer bottle stood. He then crouched down and slid back onto his barstool. "Brah," he extended his hand for a shake. "Val."

Ohhhhh a hand. Dangling little flesh pieces in his direction. Really? Amare smiled tightly, clapping his hand into Val's and forcing out the introduction, "Amare and this... is...." a flowing motion of his hand to the other two, "Quinn and Saila." Totally Rad, yo.

"Couple?" she scoffed. "There's three of us." Obviously? Right. Nevermind that Saila was dating somebody who outweighed Quinn and Amare put together, nevermind that Quinn was her dad and Amare her kinda-sorta-brother. Nevermind logic and all that. She heard Quinn use his name, heard the animal growl that was subvocalized in two syllables. Probably for the best, though she was impressed with the way the little guy moved. "OOoh. Nice moves, Brah-Val." This is what happens when you don't specify Saila thinks it's all one word.

"I swear to any god you want me to that he tastes like pineapple," he said to Quinn with what was a straight face. This was a person to eat. Two verse one, and he would be all... no brah, not this way but my time comes when it comes, akuna matata. Yes. That was exactly as he would sound.

Some people just... needed to be eaten...with what he assumed would be with a fruit garnish.

The hand was shaken but only briefly. He put his hand to his chest and bowed his head respectfully to Saila. "My apologies, please." Val then looked back up and took another swig of beer. He really didn't care if she called him Brah. He really didn't care about much of anything. His brows went up again when Amare said he tasted like pineapple. Well, he hadn't had any pineapple or juice since he'd left the island over a month ago, so he doubted it. Would have to see later. It was another shrug and crooked grin as he laughed.

Watching the two he smiles and wonders if Saila understand that some couples are more than two. Maybe the guy thought they were some cool hipster swinging couple. A shake of his head at Amare and he looked at the smaller male with a raised brow. "Pleasure to meet you Val. Don't mind Amare, he's under the impression that you might taste fruity, I think it may have racial implications, but you don't smell like fruit." A sniff of the air between them, and he caught more the smell of beer and sunshine. Maybe there was more, Quinn wasn't delving too deep into that. No need to fall face first into an island boy. He'd gotten himself in trouble with islanders a time or two in the past. Eyes to Saila and he laughed. "She's my kid, he's her brother, or uncle. It's complicated."

He nipped at the edge of Quinn's shoulder and then pointed with a jerk of his head, "It's like the dinner bell is ringing and everyone else is deaf. Jesus why are we-- yessss," he smiled in a that sort-of polite way while being introduced. He was the brother-sort-of, and the beta to Quinn.


"Wouldn't three people be a triple? Is it not called that?" She mused, possibly because she could read his mind and possibly just because she was still working it out in her head. Likely both. "Or is it a trinity...tricycle?" Okay, maybe she's just rolling through every word she can think of that starts with "tri".


There wasn't any other person that had Amare kneel so readily, or just outright listen. Usually the wolf was left to his own outrage, his own devices, and Saila played along so long as it wasn't the end of the world. Amare arched a brow, "I think the word you're looking for is orgy."

"It’s just an open relationship I think. I think it’s a complicated couple. Or..." Looks at Amare and his eyes went wide. "That is not what it is called! Thats when lots of people are having sex, I don't think they have to be in a relationship."

"Trio, sisstah?" he shook his head and that dark hair moved along his back. Now he knew their family tree. Very interesting indeed. Amare uttered a word that had him crossing his legs at the knees and biting his lips.

"Oh hey, that's a funny story," she said even though no one had told a story. Sorry about that, Quinn. She frowned. "I still like tricycle."

"Then what's our relationship? You kinda hate me, kinda don't hate me, sometimes kiss me and then really do NOT kiss me?" A pointed look at Quinn before Val spoke and reacted. A two hand gesture in his direction, "Must. Eat. Now. He's not even fleeing. What is wrong with you people!? Seriously he's just like... right there.... and I am convinced he tastes like pineapple. And beer. And we're not going to do anything about it? Finneee... screw it, I give up. Where's my cigarettes?" he grabbed his suit jacket to hunt down the pack.

If you couldn't tell, Quinn went bright red, under the scruff and stubble. No one was elaborating on the story so he was good. "Amare, not all people who aren't afraid of us are for eating." Said through his teeth softly so that he didn't look terrifying. "Some of them are for… other things!" Looking to Saila for some back up on this one.

"...Like... playing checkers?" It was the first thing she could think of. "Or... or... singing songs with. Or kissing! But only if you ask and he says yes." Consent matters! She seemed really proud of herself for adding that caveat.

Either Val was stupid or he was confident in his abilities. As he sipped his beer he listened to the life lessons of the family. He was often underestimated and didn't disabuse anyone of that mistake.

He was lighting up a cigarette when he noticed the blushing. There was a curious pause then and Amare cleared his throat, the hand holding the cigarette steadied on the bar as he sat on a stool, "Huh. You do want to kiss me..." Even though Quinn had hated him somewhat because of Dirk, because of how the cards had fallen and because he had always been a pain in the ass.

"Ohhh it's one of those," Amare snapped his fingers and then pointed, "A grudge ****. Where your animosity causes you to want to have sex. Is that it?" He wagged his eyebrows at Quinn, his fingernails making a hollow drum along the body of his Homeless Vodka. He would elbow. That was what Amare did.

Quinn was blushing about the orgy story and was then looking with wide eyes at Amare. "Are you asking to sleep with me?" He was so confused and then looking between Val and Amare. Wondering if the human, wait was he human? Quinn hadn't asked. Didn’t matter. Eyes back to Saila. "What is he going on about? Why does he think I want to hate **** him?"

"Because ya do, brah," he answered for her with a chuckle. It was evident to him, anyway, that Quinn and Amare had pent up something. What that something was, he had no idea, but he was just going with the flow.

"Something about that other guy." She gave Quinn an almost imperceptible nod, as if answering a question he hadn't asked. "Other than that, I don't know. Are you two going to get naked?" Saila made a show of slapping her hands over her eyes, not that it would help her in the slightest if they actually did. "Wait. I thought you were kissing cute guy. If he says yes I mean." She gestured at Brah-Val with... her elbow?

"Because I'm amazing," the not-whisper to Quinn. Amare had come to know better than to push Quinn's good nature too far and an insistence or anything else might have just been that. Then Val answered and he grinned with a thumbs up. The pent-up something was... well, that Quinn had a psychopath beta under his arm he had to cope with. Maybe it was sexual tension. Or homicidal. Or.... you know. "Hang on, I gotta take something to Simone," The bottle of Vodka was set down and then he moved away, vaulting over the bar. A sloppily-to-walk stumble into the kitchen.

Experiment ongoing. Data required.

"He's bringing something to...The bar?" Eyes to Saila and then to Amare again. "Well, if he's with the bar, he's not eating our little friend here. But apparently I am hankering for some Amare. Too bad I can't bring him anywhere near my house. Can you *imagine* Mark finding him?" There was a smirk and he grabbed his scotch and drank deeply with a smile. "He would burst a vessel and probably kill me." Nodding amused at the thought of it.

Hey, if Quinn could overlook the two dead people and Mannique at the dinner table, his place was ideal for hosting a little get together. Very romantic. You could hardly smell the decomposition.

"...Well, Mark would probably like me a whole lot better if he also knew Amare." She nodded, drinking more of Quinn's scotch. "Simone is very young and needs lots of things to help her grow," she said it so matter of factly.

Quinn most likely could NOT overlook those things."Like what? Stools? And glasses and such?"

"Cheers," he held his bottle up, grateful for the not eating bit. The rest of their conversation was just water under the bridge, information stored for later consumption.

"Mostly Harry Potter and Earl Grey Tea," of which he was robbing the current bar almost entirely of. Amare had the massive container of it in hand, all the individual packets in the major one just waiting for release. He said that as he stepped out of the kitchen and then through the bar break.

Now Mist was closer, he reached over, silent, to lightly touch at Saila's hair. Just a touch. He chuckled to his company and spoke, "Yes. I used to stay here, too."

"Can't we buy these things?" Of course we can't because where is the fun in that, hmm? It was about then that he realized he was being observed. Eyes on them and his head turned back to the direction of the youngster. "Tell me about yourself Brah." All eyes on Val now.

"What.. the ***... is that...." he was staring at Mist touching Saila's hair as he explained why items needed to be taken, "It has to come from the mothership... Quinn... what...." a motion to the hair-toucher.

A hand shot out to grab the wrist of the man who's fingers had brushed against Saila's hair. He wasn't being rough, but the words seemed that way. "We are okay with a Mist touching?" Snapped in his direction.
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 9:05 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Where had Val gotten off to? It was for the best that Amare's attention had shifted, but still. He was an interesting little guy, and seemed like he was about Grace's size." Then there was a Mist, and she slinked off of of Quinn to wind both arms around Mist. "Hey you!" she said to him brightly, signalling the man with the glowing runes on his face as a friend. "Mist, this is Quinn," she gestured the taller of the two, "...And Amare, but I know you've seen him before. Guys, this is Mist. He's a… whatcha call it...." She let go of Mist, her fingers flaring at her sides as she searched for the word. Elf? Mage? Newly single? No? "....medicine person."

"You first," Val challenged with a grin. He upended the bottle to finish it off before clunking it onto the bartop. There was a small commotion and a bit of an introduction going on. "Aloha, brah," he offered to Mist as he raised his fist with his pinky and thumb extended.

"Quinn... I think she means to say that Mist is latin for appetizer...." out of the corner of Amare’s mouth.

"Oh and that's Brah-Val. I just met him." She waved in Val's direction.

Little more than a mild glance at Amare, likely unsurprised the man had gone from the kitchen to the bar so quickly he could parse Mist's quiet greeting to Saila. He turned a tilt of head to Quinn, his hand still. As long as there was no pain involved, he didn't seem to mind a bit.

"Nurse practitioner," he helped Saila out, humor touching at his voice.

"Hello," added to Val, his head tilting.

"No, but seriously... he said he was best medium rare. Like five seconds ago he said it." The story wasn't gaining any traction.

"No latin for appetizer is gustus." Ohhhhh, this one is friend. Quickly letting go and nodding to Mist. "A pleasure to meet you." He didn't apologize to the person, instead he looked to Amare. "Five minutes ago you wanted pizza, now you want steak? In five more you'll want a busty blonde. We can't get takeout if you keep changing your mind.”

"I am Mist," he added to Bra-Val, head inclining graciously, and this spared Manami from the elf asking what Kabuki was. His gaze then turned to Vera, one of the other faces in the inn crowd, his golden eyes warmly curious.

A toss of one hand and he relented, leaving them to conversations and introductions. He upended more Homeless Vodka. Amare was the blond between the lot of them, five o'clock shadow and a long, lean against the bar. In one blink his eyes were on Hallo-lady, but he didn't say anything. He was temporarily observing.

Wait, had the young one challenged him to speak about himself? Oh the poor soul. Quinn was good at one thing, and that was droning on about anything and everything. He could speak of himself at length and still tell you nothing worth hearing or of note. The boyish smirk was offered over to the kid and he clicked his tongue a moment. "My name is Quinn I am but a humble gypsy. Not a lot to tell really."

"Aloha," he offered the woman a crooked smile and scoot just a hair closer to Amare. He leaned his head, not quite touching the man's rib cage but enough to give an indication that he might be busy.

Saila opened her mouth and then closed it again. Twice even. I mean. He hadn't lied, and like... her mind was still stuck on take out.

"Seriously!? Away with you," he put his hand to Val and tried to nudge him away. Was the lamb ever the aggressor with a wolf? Well, apparently tonight was the case. "Shoo... little delicious Hawaiian thing. Go get extra crispy tomorrow with some of that coconut oil stuff.... yeah... and then maybe have a Mai Thai..."

"And I a humble dancer," he replied with a raising of his brows and crooked smile upon his face. He used the word humble because Quinn had also used that word. He wasn't one who often went on long orations about himself. He was being shooed away by Amare and that made him laugh all the more.

Ye Olde (so olde) alpha had commanded him to do as so. And he was nothing if not super obedient and awesome. Yep. That was his report card every year.

"Amare..." Another stern word. Careful or he'll make you woo him. You'll be on a brocation in like 2 days. They would be on the Jersey Shore fist bumping like champs. "A dancer eh?" A helping of scotch swallowed and he smiled. "We have some dancers in camp."

"Where are you from Brah-Val?" Saila was the twenty-questions champion. She grinned at Amare, and the shake of her head that followed it was affectionate.

Brocation was the sort of hell someone never came back from. A one fingered shoulder shove to encourage Val away from him.

"Little poi, hula," he responded to the question as briefly as he could. he then leaned away from Amare with a grin. "Oahu, Hawaii," he replied to Saila as he grinned up at Amare. Hello.

"Akuna matata, I get it, BRAH!" and then Amare looked at Quinn and shook his fist at him meaningfully. What fresh Hell was this?

Eyes to Temp now. "Jesus, is this bring a beautiful man to the bar night?!" Looking to Amare and smirking. "I mean. I did." Nudge nudge.

His "W" was pronounced with a "V" sound, as natives should sound. And then Amare was shouting. Val had to hold his stomach and put his hand over his mouth. His eyes sealed shut and there may have been a tear or two.

"What's a Oahuhawaii?" Saila wanted to know. To say she had failed geography was an understatement, but then, to be fair? She'd never taken geography, either. She re-ran the question through her mind. "Oh, wait! That's a place, isn't it. Okay, <I>where </I>is Oahuhawaii?"

"Yooouuu... deal with this," he stood up, grabbing Quinn's barstool and dragging it beside Val's, "because you like to talk to your dinner instead of just eat it like you should. I don't know if this is foreplay or playing with your food. You've confused all parts of me," a swat to Quinn's shoulder before he looked to Saila, "Just.... oh for all that is holy... here," he reached out and grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, "There, is that better? Akuna matata. What a wonderful phrase."

Because Quinn had absolutely no intention of eating the guy! He wasn't playing with his food, maybe he was lonesome, maybe he was trying to have company, maybe he wanted a friend. Only thing for sure, is Quinn wasn't about to go nutterbutters and start eating people at random. There was a purple haired muse at the bar to make sure that exact thing never happened. Last time Quinn lost his humanity, it sent him through something no man can ever really come back from. Now he was drug over to Val and he smiled with a nod. "You'll have to excuse my friend, he thinks you're a pizza."

“Hakuna Matata is African....” she trailed off uncertainly. The wolf dragged her closer, a move that had her winding one arm around his shoulders to keep her from faceplanting on his chest. Catching her balance, she had to admit that "...Actually, yes." It was better. "Oahu, Hawaii. It's warm there." She's a quick one sometimes, that Saila.

"Shhhh," one finger pressed at her lips, "We aren't talking sense here, I'm just saying," and with one sidelong step, they had begun to dance. She knew dancing, right? Well, now she did. She knew what years at a proper school had to say about dancing. This was the box-step. Basic. Small steps. Val was a pizza.

Saila totally knew how to dance! She'd been full time employed as a musical theater actor for a year and a half! And anyway there was Hex and Hex knew how to do anything that would eventually get people naked. "Depends what you like on your pizza, doesn't it?"

"No worries, brah," he had watched the dance of musical chairs and simply opened up another bottle of beer. He showed no fear, even when he was told that Amare had thought that he was a pizza and ready for devouring. "Your friend, he is Kaupe, yes?"

No. For real. Amare ate people. Not a metaphor. But he was dancing with Saila, right hand dominant over hers as he lead the dance. He was... surprisingly good at it, if you didn't know that he was supposed to be good at it. The corner of his lips twitched as he moved, counting out the beats of a song that wasn't playing, "One... two... three... annnnddd...I like my pizza supreme. A little bit of everything so that there is a surprise in every bite. But I'll take Hawaiian when there's nothing."

"Kaupe...I am sorry, I am not sure what that is." Pulling out his phone he started to look it up. Aha, there was a moment where he was silently reading over the page and after a moment set the phone down. "Actually, that might be the best way to describe my fair haired friend. He would certainly eat you before kissing you. Or eat you while kissing you."

Certainly.

She followed his lead flawlessly, her body swaying in sync with his like they'd done this a million times, like no one was watching, like she could hear the same song that wasn't playing. Her hands relaxed over his shoulders. "I wish I liked pizza. I feel like I'm missing out on something epic here." Since Quinn had read the definition, Saila didn't have to. Convenient, that. "Come to think of it, that's pretty perfect, yes." Mismatched eyes locked onto Amare's. "Kaupe," she echoed. "Suits you."

Val waited for the gypsy to look it up, another sip of beer taken. He was feeling quite tipsy but not so much to lose his faculties. "Ah, but one must believe in Kaupe for him to be a threat." He looked to Amare, dancing with Saila and then laughed.

People believed in him. His smile, maybe even that unhinged charm. They did dance like it was something they liked, "You are missing out. Pizza is like heaven and sex when you don't want to get off the couch." There was a snap of his head at the definition, "I prefer Amare, so let's keep it at that."

"I assure you my friend, if I hadn't stopped him, you'd be singing a much different tune." A smile crept across Quinn’s lips, playing at the corners of his mouth while he watched Val watch them. "You like danger dont you? Trust me. That one...There..is poho."
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 9:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

"Of that, brah," he leaned back against the bar and let his gaze travel up Quinn's body slowly. "There is no doubt." He chuckled then and took another sip of beer. It was his third and he was nearly finished with it. "You'd like to see dat, yeah? Him takin' a big bite outta my Hawaiian pizza ass."

"There wouldn't be *a* bite. So no, that isn't something I'd be fond of watching. No." There was no point in telling the man that it would remove another sliver of humanity from the man he cared most about. They were closer than brothers. Nearly equals. He trusted Amare much more than Amare would or could ever know. Would go right to his head you know. Quicksilver orbs landed on the beer and he smirked. "You trying to get sloshed? Can I get you another?"

The homicidal, the unbalanced, was kept in a gentle vault between Quinn and Saila. His smile was broad, and the two of them moved in step with one another easily. There was something to be said about seeing the unhinged go all the way. Whatever he was, it was clear that Saila and Quinn were either guardians of him or guardians of everyone not-him. Amare wouldn't have asked or wanted to be trusted, it was better that Quinn held the "higher ground" between them.

Saila was still dancing with Amare, heedless (or at least seemingly so) of their surroundings. "Yeah, I like Amare better too," she said softly. "You're good at this." There was no question or surprise in the tenor of her voice.

"I had to be." He reminded her with a diminished smile, dipping her appropriately before the next spin, "It used to be that dancing told you everything you needed to know about someone. If they were meak, or bold, if they would make eye contact or just shrink against the walls. Now there's... I dunno. Getting drinks at a bar and pretending not to notice everyone."

"Brah would have to catch me," he winked playfully and then leaned back from that conspiratorial whisper. He waved off the offer with a lazy brush of his hands. "Three's my limit," he admitted. No need to go beyond a buzz. "Trying to get me drunk?" he teased playfully.

Trying to get you to want to leave this place. "Nah, just a friendly guy." Quinn wondered only for a moment, if he was on the wrong team on this one. The poor kid wouldn't stand a chance, but how long really could you deny the beast that he's a beast. A shake of his head. His laugh was one of a much younger man. "You want me to call you a cab man?"

Wait, Amare could get the whip cream and a cherry to properly decorate that Brah. He could run fast so, yeah, totally had this. Guys totally outran werewolves all the time in all the movies.

"Hm, good point." All three of her dance partners were good at it because they had to be, for wildly different reasons. Saila was good at it because they were, because she was fearless, because she liked it. Amare dipped her and she let him, perfectly at ease in his arms and utterly unconcerned for even a second that the wolf would drop her, even though ....anyone who knew Amare might have easily assumed that he would. She moved through the twirl and spun right up against him again. "So what does it say about me, then?" Slipping one hand off the blond's shoulder, she flagged a wave at Mist. "Night, Nurse Practitioner!" See, she'd been paying attention.

Val pointed to the ceiling and squinted at the stairs. "I live up there," he admitted. No, he didn't want to leave but the question made him nod his head all the same. He stood up, all to his 5' 2" height and gathered the empty bottles on the bar. Not turning his back, he made his way behind the bar to dispose of the bottles.

Dude was fun sized. How was that not happening? Jesus H Christ.

Mist chuckled softly, an easy gesture of arm uncoiling to a flick of fingers towards Saila. A flittering of little moth-like lights wound their way around her, popping lightly once they had spun their way upwards. "Good evening, Actor and Dancer."

"That you're modern. This is really outdated dancing. I'm showing my aristocratic upbringing and... whatever the hell other adjectives someone feels like applying." But there was his slow grin from her, his fingers spreading at her lower back when she peeled away to wave at Mist. His eyes followed the gesture and he upnodded in an effort to be polite (gasp). His eyes went back to Saila. "I think... I'm itching to go out." He meant hunting.

The grin that spilled over her features then could have lit up the entire room. "I think... that is an excellent idea."

"Oooooohhhhh." A sage like nod and then eyes to Amare, who was touching Saila so he was getting mixed messages and trying to figure out if he could wiggle his way into Amare's mind through hers. Hunt. He heard hunt. Perked up like a pup who just heard walk. He needed to go out too. Eyes went to Saila and wide. Hunt?!

Jeeze. You would think she was the human who was responsible for taking these big dogs out for a walk. Oh, wait.

Oh hey. There were pretty lights. That made her grin even wider. "That's so cool," the girl breathed. "Yeah, we should -all- go out."

"I am full of incredible ideas," his voice pressed her, as if to remind. There was the tug of Quinn, undeniable, causing his blue eyes to move across the room to him and smile. Yes. His nod followed and he stepped back towards the door of the inn. "Well..." a smile absolutely wolfish followed, "Let's go."

Saila the dog walker.

Val took his leave by quietly walking back around the bar and up the stairs to disappear into his bedroom. He appeared a few minutes later wearing track shoes and a thick hoodie over the clothes he'd been wearing earlier. "Aloha," he called out to them as he went for the door and outside. Using the railing on the porch, he began to stretch. Time to burn off that alcohol.

"Incredible, yes. Not all of them are awesome. Speaking of, I need to see this drawing you got..." You know. Mostly she wanted to know where he'd put it. She was headed towards the door as she spoke, but still paused to flap a wave at the Hawaiian pizza. "Night, BrahVal from OahuHawaii. Nice to meet you! "

"Have an amazing night, my little Hawiian!" Called over to the kid. A card tucked into his palm in passing. "Try to not get eaten." He hoped the kid didn't have to use that card, but just incase. Quinn was bouncing around Saila. "Where to guys?" He was stripping out of his clothes already. Poor lookers on.

Turns out the getting naked game was happening afterall. Val who was stretching on the porch was probably about to get an eyefull of naked man-wolves as Saila dutifully took the stripped-off clothes and stuffed them into her bag for safekeeping.

He accepts that card and waves a friendly goodbye to Saila before stepping onto the porch. He could see the nakedness starting from the window and he did not take his eyes away for a single moment.

Hopefully the kid didn't have a leaning interest in Amare, who was thoroughly convinced his name meant appetizer, brah. Amare snapped his fingers, "Twilight island. Some things to hunt and... of course, you must see Simone. She's not complete but I don't think you will judge her." He was leaving behind his suit top until Saila gathered it. Pffttt.

Well, yeah. All things went into the bag of holding. Suit tops, liquor bottles, live animals, bits of skin that amare had carved off his own finger.... she was kind of a hoarder.

Quinn stripped, so Amare followed with a grin as they went further down the porch. Tattoo not withstanding, there were the scar marks of... something, on the bend of his arms and in little pieces of his back. Unhinged little stories and yet, he was still teeth, claws, promises and prowling. He knew just the place.

Fun sized Hawaiian pizza was there to witness their naked stroll onto the porch. He had to take a lean because... wow.

Quinn was nude and nodding to Amare. He'd heard the destination and smirked. Quinn had his own disgusting scars, but he had earned each one. A moment later there was a bounding run and a white wolf where a man had stood. And then, he was gone into the tree line.

Well yeah. It was a lot to take in if you were into...exceedingly gorgeous, utterly ripped naked men who... rather suddenly became wolves in a teeth-rattling crunch of snapping bones. Saila waited until Amare had shifted and then, cinching her bag down tight against her body, she took off after them. Saila was fast. Unnaturally fast. She neither stripped nor changed forms, a streak of long black shadows and bright purple hair as she disappeared into the trees with them.

Seeing the direction that the wolves took, Val decided that discretion was the better part of valor and wandered back into the commons. There were bottles and things strewn about that he set to making right again.
_________________

That escalated quickly.
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