January 21, 2003
.01.21.03. - moving in [tristan-diego-imogen-dire-dellenger-trev]

[north jersey]

(tristan)
Moving day.
He can't remember when the last time he had his own place to move into. He can't remember how long it's been since he wanted to have his own place to move into. The last inclinations to choose a place and settle down eons ago in memory, so much so that he cannot truly pinpoint where and when it was.. no more then a vague recolation of pretty eyes, strong thighs, and delightful moans..
Yet here he is, the born wanderer, helped by family to find a place, and settle in to stay for a while - close enough to Momma Grace she won't worry half as much, and far enough away that her switch doesn't hold half the threat - the best of both worlds, that.
It hadn't taken him long to gather what little he actually brought to town with him, necessities shoved into his pack, and that, along with his violin case, set in the cab of the truck. Decker wasn't happy about it, but how else were they to get the hideabed couch, coffee table, dining table and chairs to the new place? Mullified only by the fact that this means the catterwallin pretty boy will be out of his house - and possibly better yet? farther away from Imogen.
Oddly enough, he feels like it is Christmas, what with the new (old) things, new (old) place, new (first!) phone number and new family member to help put it all in place before Momma comes to visit to ensure her baby is living well enough to suit her tastes. What more could our boy wish for?

(james)
probably. not. much.

he had worded the appeal for use of the Tacoma -very- precisely
while Rune may have intended it for the pack, they all knew the Modi claimed the truck
to help Tristan move out
out of hearing range
out of Imogen range
out of Decker's range, basically
with little more than a grunt and a nod
the keys were bequeathed to the Gnawer's care
(Don't you scratch my truck, James)
it's all good

pack and violin case set in the King cab's back seat
along with some pillows, few blankets and a thick comforter
a boxful of things to cook with or in, and some phone that should still work
there's even a random lamp
along with the couch, chairs, and tables - less than a hundred bucks
all bow down and pay homage to the thrift store Gods
(and the credit card the GlassWalker let them borrow)

that was two hours ago
since then, they've arrived, and moved the tables and chairs in
that leaves the foldaway couch, and what's still in the locked cab
but the Ahroun isn't quite ready for that yet
a hip resting against the molded wheel well
bic flaring orange halo onto his face
long drag pulled from the Camel into lungs that will never blacken

(tristan)
Fingers search pockets in some sort of random order, finally coming up with a pack of (imogen's) camels and hotpink lighter. Long legs still for a moment from lazy kick under the tailgate that holds the lean Gnawer kin, long enough to set flame to smoke, inhaling first while lighter is tucked away before legs resume their swing and he stretches slightly. "been a long damn time." Idly mused as he looks toward the building they've been unloading into...
The apratment is small, a little effiency, bathroom, kitchenette, living area that doubles as a bedroom once the couch has been moved. 70's decor, orangeish carpet that's seen better days, wainscoating along the bottom half of the walls, plaster above. Relatively new appliences, however, and it is clean, which is more then can be said for some places he's stayed in the past three years. Fortunately, it's on the ground floor, so they haven't had to truely over extend themselves - not that simple moveing would do so to either of them, but better then up and down 15 flights of stairs or some such nonsense. It's always better if Tristan can still lift his arms to play tomorrow...
All hail Rune, her creditcard, and her strings pulled to get him financial aid, lowered rent, and decent neighbors. At least they look decent enough, those that watch the boys move back and forth and back and forth, curious, yet not so much as to actually come out and meet them just yet. (who can blame them with the full moon barely past?) - and while we're at it, all hail James for being willing helper in this excursion.
A rueful grin, a shake of head, repeated comment. "a long. damn. time."

(diego)
he was hiding from the family not so much the extended family but the imediate family comming as far north as he could get he had thought about newyork but his cousin angelo was up there. would probably tell his father just where he is. they wouldnt look here in this small hell hole they wouldnt expect him to be so close to family.

so it is that this figure finds himself in the building not more than two days now watching as tristan and james unload thier own truck wonder which one it is thats moving in? a casual shrug he passed you on the stairs on his way out. the corner store now he is comming back sitting on the stoop of the building he watches smiling ever so slightly from behind those glasses. legs crossed inf ront of him. dark pin stripe pants and a blue wifebeater all under a wool lined duffly coat although its not done up hes still trying to learn the concept of cold. its never this cold where he comes from or so it seems.

(james)
past
barely
there's a multitude of reasons he decided the kin was going to be helped
Tristan really had no choice in the matter
even if he knows that no other choice really would have been made

the rueful grin, the repeated comment
all it gets is a smile lingering on the Gnawer's face
some underbreath voice of acknowledgement
more than likely just exhaled on a plume of smoke
the layers have been peeled off
the still vibrant warm of that Rage burning away beneath his skin
the physical exertion, however mild, coupled with only served to intensify
on first trip the patchwork trench was left behind
sweater joining very soon after
even the t-shirt can now be found to lay atop the pile in a corner

it leaves him in the wifebeater
ashed scars creeping up from beneath greyed fabric onto the backs of his shoulders
fully exposed, now, since dreads are tied back with the dark gray bandana
faded and stained BDUs low on hips for lack of a better belt
for lack of a belt at all, to be honest
muscle through his forarm flexes and coils in the lift of smokestick to mouth

"Don't think you made out half bad."

(tristan)
Tristan? Wouldn't have turned it down. In all his wanderings, in all the places he's been - here, wiht the cold weather and multitude of rage, and James, of course - has become home. Faster then he ever thought possible...
The cutie on the steps sure doesn't hurt either, and is given a nod of hello - but he doesn't press, some people just aren't up to saying hi right away. He won't intrude.. but... A warm place to lay his head and eyecandy? Well. This day just keeps getting better and better.
His coat was shed - his sweater too, but that still leaves him in long sleeved t-shirt. He's lived in the south too long, even with constant movement, it's -cold- out here where their footsteps have made paths in new fallen snow - the still smooth expanse next to the building that's unmollested until the kids returned from school and finished homework (there's still a patch or two that calls to inherrant boyishness that wants to make snowballs and wing them at his friend..
Another inhale, and fingers push back that shock of corkscrew curls that immediately fall back into disarary again. "not half-bad at all. Rune is incredible. Not half bad to look at either." Wicked grin, playful duck from any imagined (or real) swipe that he deserves.

(diego)
now that captures his attention james that is, the figure that flows past carrying boxes an peirced eyebrow raises from behind those reflective glasses. gold of course. now this is most interesting before he just thought it was a new set of cute bois moving into the building. now well now well yeah.

he smiles and nods to tristan as he passes before raisng to his feet. he flows into the building. after the two them, all 5'5" feet of him he watches where they go notes the appartment and moves to sit now on the inside stairs. the ones leading up towards his own floor. a smile still i place as he watches from behind glassess.

(james)
chin lifts in something of a wave at the guy on the steps
but his attention mostly stays on his kinsman
grin raking sly
and a brow lifts again
through some sideways glance
reaching out across the bed's lip and shoving Tristan

right towards that big mound of snow they've been half tripping over with each load from the truck
not half bad to look at, at all, boyo writ in his grin

the Camel is flicked away
he's moved away before Tris even has a chance to recover
unlocking the passenger back door
stretch of muscle pulling out the box of stuffs
sleeping stuff, cooking stuff, lamp stuff
all in a big heavy box
which he takes himself and heads back in
leavning the door open to get case and pack

not quite ready for that couch yet
far too much coordination will be required

a bit of a double take on the guy now sitting on the steps that head up to the second floor
just a small ways down from the door of the apartment in question
something.... tugs at him
but all that makes it out is a friendly

"S'up?"

as he takes the big box inside

(tristan)
Shoved - he goes flying toward that mound, and maybe not recovering too quickly - but fast enough a handful is grabbed packed and thrown..
...and missing, smashing just to the side of the door, mere inches from his friend. He's laughing as he shakes the snow from lean frame, moving around to grab violin case, and backpac - the latter thrown over shoulder as he checks to make sure nothing fell out of the box, one last drag taken, butt flicked away, and he closes the door to the truck and heads inside. brows lift a bit as he sees the neighbor has moved - and still watches, his grin boyish, warm as he nods, and repeats James' greeting "s'up?" as he heads inside.. a glance over his shoulder to see if the boy is curious enough to follow.

(diego)
that eyebrow raises again as james moves closer he actually shrinks back a little trying to stop his own inner fire from being kindled by that wich pours from the man with the dredlocks. "hola" his accent is thick and dripping a blend of miami and something else something much further south of the border. which would make sense when you look at him its stamped all over his features. "soooo. which one of you is moving in?"

(james)
even as Luna wanes from her pregnancy
what burns in him is still unmistakable
and he didn't miss that shrink back
not. at. all.
needless to say, curiosity is peaked

"He is."

folding over to set the box beside the coffeetable
lanky body righting itself with slow stretch
dreads jerking a bit over shoulders as he nods towards Tristan
not looking smug at all from the snowball miss
even if there's a few splatters of snow melting wet dots across wifebeater

"Help with the couch?"

smug as well as not particularly shy
(at least about some things)
already heading back out towards the Tacoma
it's obvious they won't need any help carrying it
but it'd be nice if someone would get the doors

(tristan)
"that would be me.." Said in conjunction with Jame's comment - he, in that missed snow and blooseming smug look on Gnawers face (so that's how it's gonna be, hm? juuuuust you wait...) he missed the shrinking back. He, himself, hides the (relaxing, slowly, finally) knot of tension that settles in the base of his spine with ease.
He sets down violin case on the coffee table, swings his pack down next to the box, and returns to look at Diego with a boyish grin - since james asked for the help, he'll do the introductions. "Names Tristan, and the boy there about to get pummeled with snowballs - after he helps carry in the couch - is James."
Smiled, in passing, as he nods to the door in followed question of help, before he steps out side toward the Tacoma... since he's finally ready to brave ice and snow for that couch, better do it before they decide on another break instead.

(diego)
eyes flow from james to tristan behind those glasses. only if you promise not to eat me. "sure why not i remember what it was like trying to lug mine upstairs took me half the day i swear." grining ever so slightly. are you one of us too? not having been close enough to him to really tell. yet he did throw snow at the other one and noe is contemplating pummelling him with snowballs no one would ever have done that to his brother. or the rest of the pack him maybe but not the others. "u can call me diego" he flows to his feet. standing slowly contemplating taking his coat off but decides against it. way to cold out there. and he doesnt need to be some big strong heman "do you want me to help carry it or just hold the doors"

(james)
a dark brow lifts towards the bandana as they're outside
cooly looking back over his shoulder at Tristan
pummeled, huh?
but it slides into an easy grin

"Nice to meetcha, Diego, and yeh, doors would be great."

the rope used to tie the couch down is loosened
it's just one smooth pull to drag it aaaaallllll the way to the edge
(bed liners are a good thing)
waiting for Tristan to grab hold of the other end just for navigational purposes

(tristan)
"Ditto.." tossed over his shoulder as he wanders to the truck. His grin? Completely unrepentant, though he knows darn well that as likely as not? he won't be able to hit him. But with a wink he grabs that other end of the couch, though by having 'helped' loading it he knows James could probably manage on his own if he wanted too. So - navigational purposes it is. And yeah, most boys wouldn't have the guts to even throw that first snowball, let alone contemplate a second. but he? is not your normal boy. And after being a punching back for james, he figures he's owed at least one good solid ice cold hit. With plenty of time to run and hide, afterwards, of course. for now? he'll settle for navigating the couch through the doors, and into place without slipping and falling on his ass.

(diego)
he watches james with that weary air of a predator, are you like my brother and the rest of his gang? while tristan gets an entirely different look. glad that his eyes are covered by those mirror shades. and that the blush that threatens to creep into his cheeks could be explained off as a reaction to the extreme cold (well extreme to hiim) he watches them stepping to the side as they take the couch holding the front doors to the building wide open as he makes sure not to block the way. moving quickly to inner door the one to his flat proper once they have made thier way through the foyer and down the corridor.

(james)
it's rare that he has someone so openly react to what he is
the first in a long time was Jael
she shrank back from him as if he were going to strike her
and for a split second he understood what it was the Modi must feel
that uncontrollable reaction to the uncontrollabe Rage
and now, he can feel the nervous tension that's underlying Diego's natural scent
somewhere deep down
it eats at him

and is ignored
(....mostly)

once inside, he lets the navigation become a sudden ballet of moving furniture
pivoting in the small area to settle the couch in the predesigned area and not fall over the coffeetable
it is a discussion of balance and grace and sheer freakin' luck
but they do it
with minimal mishap

and once he straightens
something of a satisfactory nod given the once lonely now getting homey apartment
there's a step towards Tristan
and a fist wraps in the chest of that long sleeve t-shirt
drawing the Kin right on up close

"You. Outside."

half murmured
half sneered
something of a savage glint in deep umber eyes
challenge bleeding into his (dangerous) grin
that's when the Gnawer turns, letting go
a sly glance towards Diego in passing
disappearing out the door

and by the time the Kin catches up
there's already two snowballs resting on the Tacoma's tailgate
bicep flexing as he's packing down a third

(dellinger white)
The cold winter night finds one lonely soul occupying the stoop outside a brick tenement. Bundled up in a thick woolen jacket with a knit cap on his head, Dell is huddled up, smoking what looks like a cigarette, but smells completely unlike a cigarette. He takes a deep puff and holds it ... holds it...looks at the cigarette...holds it....then exhales slowly with a genuinely relaxed sigh. Gloved fingers hold carefully to the cigarette in his hand as he peers around the street with heavy lidded eyes.

(diego)
pooor boi but like he is going to miss this. he wants to see the big bad get splattered by the frozen snow. he grins and even with the tension the fear the weariness and respect (your bigger stronger and scarier than me) there is a glint of humour hidden by those eyes and the grin it seems more natural than the weary predator that does not know if it is stalking or eing stalked. . his place on the side of the steps the concrete underneath him lounging along its banisters length. thick enough that his entire body fits across it easily. back resting against the wall near the door, legs crossed once more. he watches as james begins to pack the third snowball.

(tristan)
Sashey left, tiptoe right, swing your partner round and round, bow to your partner, bow to the corner, slide to the left and trip over the box and regain feet, and composure, with something akin to grace (er. not.) and that boyish grin before the couch is set down and hands brushed together with a satisfied nod.
It's then he's grabbed and pulled close - hands in instant reaction to settle along lean waist just above those pecariously low jeans, the touch almost electric as he arches a brow, slightly, and mutters under his breath just before he's let go.. "tease"
Then james walks (stalks) away leaving just that savage challenge crackling in the air and with a laugh he moves to stand in front of Deigo.. "care to help a brother out? otherwise? I'm gonna get my ass creamed." a boyish grin and he's stepping outside, eyeing those packed snowballs and instantly setting bout packing his own...tight. Looking at that bicep flexing? those are gonna stiiiiiiiiing.

(dell)
The cigarette stops smoking and Dell curses beneath his breath, bulky gloved fingers dig inside his jacket pockets for the lighter with the naked chick on it. Turn it upside down ... voila...tits and ass...turn it up and she's Sally Schoolgirl....great entertainment. Grinning to himself, for no particular reason at all, he lights the smoke again and takes another deep toke ...hold it...hold it...hold it...breathe......

(james)
snow crunches beneath the pressure of his palms
carefully molding and shaping the little albino brain chiggers into a perfect projectile sphere
he probably should have thought to put his coat back on
but that would be thinking ahead now, wouldn't it
and what's thinking ahead in spontenaiety?

the third is carefully lain in row with the first two
hand dropping to slide into the pocket of the BDU (<-- !!)
sloooowly pulling out the pack of Camels and lighter
drawing one out and placing it between his lips
giving Tristan time to pack his arsenal

"You get one free one."

spoken from behind hands cupped to shield ignition's flame
after that? It's ON


(trev)
up the street....notpaying attention to anything - just walking up the street. Eyes at half mast...red and glazed a bit, a nice aroma of Acapulco Gold wofting off his leather jacket. Hair that falls into his eyes..covdering the baby blues. A *Distillers* shirt hanging down over baggy jeans. Hands shoved deep into his pockets as he wanders to find Dell

(dell)
Dell .... Dell is on the stoop of his building choking. Hack hack hack croup....it's nasty sounding really. His otherwise slightly tanned face turns red and he stomps his foot on the step ... watery eyes shift to where he's certain Trev is approaching from. Catching his breath he grins, sort of a Cheshire cat grin (on weed...man) and nods. "Dude ... it's like about time, man..."

(diego)
"hey kid catch"he could be older than diego who looks oooh grand total of 16, 17 its a snowball the grand total of his contribution to this fight. one he has been making and muttering over since he first steped through the doors. shaping it between cold fingers he offers it to tristan "other than that i suggest you duck"

(trev)
Matching the cheshire grin he looks up and pushes the hair out of his eyes...for a second...before it falls right back into place. "hey...man." Stopping in front of the stoop..."had things to do...got caught up" Fingers move to his lips in a 'smokin a joint' motion and he makes an inhale sound....cheech n chong style Smile grows..."and she was hot ya know...man i had to stick around"

(tristan)
One packed, another one started, and laughter boyish and free. He didn't put a coat on either, but hey - its all in the spontenaiety. A sly glance toward James in those BDU (<--!!)s and wife beater, and that slow lighting of smoke, chuckling. "Gee, thanks. Hear that diego? He's a gentleman too." smirked toward the dredlocked Gnawer. Only one. H'd better make it count.
Third snowball packed, nice and tight, molded matching sphere.. and he looks up at Diego with a grin, taking the snowball (who ya callin kid, man.) with a nod. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind. "a littel toss to test the weight... shoulder rolled to loosen up... likely hiding place found that he can get too and fast and with a lifted brow.. its ready. aim. FIRE!. Don't even give him time to finish that smoke because you know what? he's a deadman if he does. arm cocked, aim checked, snowball zinging straight toward James's chest as Tristan is alerady reaching and grabbing a second..

(dell)
"Trev-san..." He grins and hands the smoke to Trev. "You're so fuckin' dreamin' man ..." Dell laughs, readjusting the knit hap on his head so that it doesn't completely cover his eyes. Trev's hair is longer than Dell's from what can be seen peeking out of the knit cap. "I've been like sittin' here watchin' this....incredible war of the snowballs man...." a pause and he wipes a gloved hand across his nose, grinning. "Dude. It's fuckin' cold out here.....it's like...what....almost the end of January ....shouldn't it be getting warm by now?"


(trev)
He takes the smoke, pulls adrag and holds it for a second...not sure how it even got in his hand. Eyes dart across the street to the little snowball fight..."cool"
pause
"huh?" he glances back to Dell..."dude its cold till like march isnt it?" pondering that for a moment..."dude with all the weird ozone shit and that la nino thing, what if it never gets warm again...it could happen ya know...i saw something about that on discovery channel..we're all goin back to the icee age...igloos and shit"


(imogen slaughter)
Visitor's parking is always pitiful and pathetic, but she finds one, and swings the mercedes-benz (goddamned.sweet.ride) into one of the aforementioned parking spot s.

A bottle of tequila in one hand (yeah, well, considering her sense of humour, latent as it is, it was rather apt), her other hand in her pocket, she walks across the snow covered parking lot and pulls up short a fairly safe distance from the beginning onslaughter of insanity between James and Tristan and... uhm. Whoever that is.

An impression of dark eyes and pale skin. Hair the colour of a late autumn sunset. All those colours of red possible on the natural earth. And she is not getting anywhere closer to the display of 'manly,' prowess, amusement better displayed in the planes of her face rather than anything reflected on her lips.

(james)
ziiiiiingSPLATTA!
there's a bit of a grunt around the Camel clenched between teeth
(that's. COLD.)
coughing up the smoke in something that sounds a lot like a laugh
he's reaching to brush the clinging snow off the beater
and that's when he's noticing the second snowball flying straight at his face

.... oh chit.

that sudden flail would be the Gnawer ducking
dreads bouncing as gravity is momentarily defied
half-leaning half-sitting on the Tacoma's tailgate
balance has gone completely to hell
but he's firing a snowball back
and fast


(dell)
He takes the smoke back when it's offered, eyes heavy lidded watch those passing by lazily before they attempt to track the snow ball as it zings and zooms and zips from one body to the next...sort of like Pong on acid. "...the hell are you talkin' about? That's El Nino man ...." Laughing he shakes his head and takes another deep toke....the bulky gloves get in his way as the paper burns down on the smoke. "You know what would be cool? It'd be cool man, if like we had this big melt down and lost some water in the oceans ...and like...we could walk from like....New York to other countries...dude...we could go to Amsterdam..."

(tris)
OH that cough? that splat of the first one? gets a very. smug. grin. Cuz he knows it will be his last and the flail brings a bright laugh, another snowball grabbed - but not thrown just yet, watching that fast fire (god damn! DUCK) that leads to a sudden 'oomph' as it hits his shoulder midturn (ow.).. shiver as snow slides over his form and he's spinning and that third snowball is ziiiiiiingged toward James - only halfway aimed because he catches sight of Imogen and he pauses to grin at her..

(trev)
Hie eyes jump from his head, jaw dropping...now that was an idea Pushing the hair from his eyes again--only to have it fall immediately back down..."dudeee...walk to amsterdam..yeah...hey i heard they were making this bridge...or maybe tunnel, from the unites states all the way to europe" hand comes out of his pocket with a snap and the yellow and black yo-yo is dropping to the ground...lingering for a bit of walk the dog...and snaps back up to his hand...
"walk to amsterdam...dude-- i got this friend, he got these seeds from amsterdam...said they were from the winner of this years cannibus cup" the yo-yo dances to the ground again, and snaps back up. "I told him i wanted to see, i dont believe him, that dudes full of shit"

(diego)
his reosonce to the first snowball is to fall over the stoop hey hes not stupid he doesnt want to be int he fireing line. when they star although he does help tristan hes making more snowballs and lining them up along the stoop for him stopping at the third one. to hold it in his hands singing softly over it is it spanish? no portugese actually. ~come little spirit ice and snow trapped in this ball for me to throw, awaken little spirit of cold and winter winds. let you go splat against the big bads~ he cant sing to save his life but its what its supposed to be anyway. singing. the tune so out of tune that it makes him wince but he smiles at the snow ball. the pause of tristan as he turns spun around with the force of james throw the smile grows wider that snowball leaves hand flying towards james.

(imogen)
"Jesus. Two against one. 'S that even fair?" quiet voice, lilting accent, almost burred with whatever her homeland may be. Europe somewhere, likely. United Kingdom and all of that.

Tristan's grin was caught, perhaps, but considering the amount of energy Tristan may have to spend not getting creamed by whatever James was about to thrown at him, the redhead doesn't even bother wasting the energy smiling back, had she even considered it. A few steps bring her onto the sidewalk now, watching the ensuing carnage as a black gloved hand drags through her hair.

(dell)
He hands the smoke to Trev chuckling as it burns the tip of his fingers, one last toke is left ...sweet. Now THAT is the sign of a true friend...give up the last toke. Dell itches the back of his head. "Yeah that'd be the shit man...get in a car....drive over some new fuckin' road left by receding water and head to Amsterdam..." Leaning back, elbows propped on the step behind him he continues to try and track the snowballs in the afore mentioned war. "....you gotta watch these guys...man...every pot head says they've been to Amsterdam...it's like...the promised land for the Muslims or some shit, you know? With like forty virgins and endless legal weed.....endless fuckin' legal weed man....God that'd be sweet..."

(james)
hey
he said a free one
and if the Kin missed?
there would definitely be some issues

and half aimed one?
misses
and a brow simply liiiifts at the sudden big white blotch on the side of the black truck's bed
(too amused)

nod up for Imogen
and he's snapping another one after Tristan
followed fast by the third
followed fast by the Ahroun himself

why settle for a snowball when you can tackle your opponent and bury them in the snow?
then quite distracted by the sudden COLD coming from his right

"Hey!"

stooping to grab a random handful of snow and fling it, unpacked, back at the boy hiding on the stairs, and then the chase is one again (where, oh where, did my little Kin go....)

(trev)
He takes the small pice of roach left and finishes it...savoring the smoke for a moment before speaking his mind...."yeah but i heard its not really legal..i mean, its legal to smoke it, and its legal to buy it, but its not legal to sell it, or some shit, unless you are the proprietor of a coffee shop...then its legal to sell it but not legal to grow it?" --he tries reciting the line from Pulp Fiction...and confuses himself in the process...."endless leal weed" he pulls out a small little tin and opens it...many other matching roaches laying in the tin..."tossin it in the roach motel" he smirks and pockets the tin. Eyes making their way back to the snowball fight..."dudes got some cool dreads...im gonna dread my hair when its longer i think...dreads are cool...i knew this guy who had dreads all the way to his knees...didnt wash his hair ever...nasty man,,when i get dreads im gonna at least wash my hair once in a while...otherwise its nasty ya know" Leaning back next to Dell..."you get more shit in?" cheshire grin returning

(diego)
he just smiles glad that it is tristan about to be tackled and not him sliding back into his seat on the stoop turning to study the woman who just showed up the one they both seem to know. the shower of snow brushed from his face and that wool lined duffle coat he wears.

(tristan)
A wince as it hits the truck (don't. scratch. my. truck. james.) and then it's sudden duck and cover and a grin for Diego and "oh shit!" as suddenly the full moon launches himself. Now that? is not fair. two against one, when one is an ahroun is not even fair - but to the two, not James.. and the pretty boy scrambles for purchase, packing as he goes, turning to wing that snowball at the fast approacing James and then hs hightailing it... straight.. toward.. Imogen... he's not above hiding behind the pretty redhead if it helps... but something tells him that he's not even gonna make it that far...

(dell)
Nodding he fumbles in his pocket and pulls out first a bag of pills (uppers, downers, laughers, screamers....) and slides them back in ....digs in further and comes up with a small Ziploc baggie full of primo green. Smell that stink? That's skunk man....doesn't get much better 'n that. Unless it's Gold....the Mexican stuff? Aye carumba. "Roll one up all 007 like...well, I say we could open up one of them coffee shops dude.....I mean....that would be like tough." Pausing he, again, readjusts his cap. "Dreads? Man ... dreads? Really?" He shifts his head to look at Trev. "You've been smokin' too much weed...dude...that's how the hair gets all napped out .... you don't wash it and it gets all...funk-da-fied..." His eyes slither back over to the romping playful group with a grin. "I hope that guy brings the Chevelle back man..."

(imogen)
The petite woman gives Tristan what might be a deadly glance as he barrels toward her, with James charging after him.

Her weight shifts slightly, toward the balls of her feet, likely because while Tristan wasn't beneath hiding behind pretty redheads for cover, pretty redheads aren't beneath leaving kinfolk to the mercy of their tribesmates.

Though it looks much like Tristan might not even get that far, so for the few following precious seconds, she remains where she is.

(james)
he was going to say something
there was going to be some verbal sparring to go along with this
a breath taken to begin this great tirade of.... something
whatever it was?
is lost
because he's ducking the oncoming snowball
badly aimed
but it seems like a charm

that one smacks right into his face

causing him to shudder
causing him to stumble
causing him to dive at the Kin
he may never have played legal football
but he can damn well tackle
(the speed and power of a wolf taking down a full grown moose)
taking Tristan down and skidding on the snow
white flurry tidal wave avalanche spraying all. over. Imogen's. legs. as they slide to a stop just before her

Tristan pinned into the snow bank sort've... created...
the raggedy dreadlocked man on top of him looking up with a totally. unrepentant. grin

"S'up Imogen?"

(trev)
He nods.."yeah you're right..." shrugging slightly as he glances to the bag...his attention peaked now..."dudeeeee that smells dope" the grin grows and he gras the bag, moving himself - turning around- as to not be a spectacle..last he heard bags of pot were still illegal...."dis is the bomb" he nods a few times and hands it back...."put me in for some...my regular...dude right on" hand sails through the air for a high-five...dont leave me hanging "Dude sluts are legal in amsterdam too...thats fucking coo..killer pot and sluts..and i heard they make them take aids tests and shit and they have papers...so you know you wont have something nasty as a souveneir..."
Jay and Silent Bob.. well not so Silent Bob

(dell)
He grins and nods, sliding the baggie back into one of the many pockets in his jacket. "That's just fucked up. I'm all for a piece of nookie now and then, dude....but they give them papers? Really?" Squinty eyes shift to peer at Trev and he nudges him with his elbow slightly. "Shut the fuck up man ......" a pause. "Really?"

(trev)
"dude i swear" he nods..."no shit..they like put them in the window..all flaunting their shit around...and like when ya go in, you can check their papers...tells ya if they got crabs or whatever...dude crabs would suck" he shakes his head..."i knew this dude...he got crabs from his ol lady....said they were like these little things with pincers" he winces..."can you imagine fucking bugs crawlin on yer shit?"

(tris)
The badly aimed one smacks him right. in. the. face and the kin? grins almost sheepishly - half a second before he's tackled and the tirade that may have been returned in friendly banter lost in the oomph! of kin sliding along ground with madly surfing gnawer atop him..legs and arms scrambling to bring them to a stop.
A little impromtu snowbank, and a purely boyish grin as he looks up at the pretty redhead and coughing a little, spitting out a mouthful of snow until with a single lithe fluid movement he writhes and handful of snow is not aimed for face, nor chest, back or arms. Oh no. Those low BDU's? grab with one hand, pulled back and toss snow with the other right down the back of James's pants. If he's gonna get it? may as well be totally worth it.

(imogen)
Two in snow sliding forward rolling forward kicks up obscuring puffs and flurries of snow. She had taken a half step back at the rolling snow ball o' Gnawer that was coming at her, and saved herself from joining the pile, instead having her jeans and boots panted with snow.

A glance down at the grinning dreadlocked man and his rather... uhm... smited... kinfolk, a crooked half smile crawling across her lips as her eyebrow arches. And another step back as Tristan declares war once more, and was apparently not quite as smited as she'd thought.

"We're christening the front lawn, then, are we?" She inquires rhetorically because she hardly expects either of them to take the time to answer her.

(diego)
ooooh thats got to hurt. wincing as the poor kinfolk is taken to the ground. that poor cute little boy, should he help? will the woman help? will he get hung fro the cealing by his wrists for 2 days for helping? he is sooo cute though and us residents should stick together hey. freindly neighbourhood and all that stuff a smile as he slips from the steps almost silent feet (spent a lot of time hiding) a handfull of snow crunch of boots all the warning hes going to get as he slides skids to a halt that hand so many hands with tristan struggling beneath you anway will he even notice it doesnt give him the chance moving faster than he should be able to the back of waistline is pulled out and the handfulls of cold (oh so cold) snow are dropped down along his spine. another lload is dropped down the back of his shirt

(dell)
"Wow." A pause. "Dude." A pause. "There is just something inherently wrong about that...." He laughs, wiping his gloved hand across his nose again as he slides the nudie lighter over to Trev, upside down, so the plaid skirt slowly disappears from trim long legs. "Jesus Trev, for a young kid...you know...you know someone that knew someone that knows someone that was friends with Moses man ....you're a fuckin' trip man...." Shifting on the steps as his butt gets a bit cold. "I let this guy borrow my Chevelle man ... I got bowling league tomorrow dude....I hope he brings the car back..."

(james)
"Yeh Imogen, wOH MY GOD!"

yes
not quite yelled. not quite shrieked. not quite bloodcurdling. but close enough.
as if the snow down his PANTS wasn't bad enough
suddenly there's a glacier moving along his spine
and he is writhing on the snow
just about crawling out of that suddenly freezing skin
twisting to shove Tristan down into the bank again
reaching to grab Diego's jacket and haul him down into the snow, too
Imogen? Ain't safe either.
what's a christening if everyone isn't involved?
down she goes, too

(tristan)
And he? is sputtering into laughter, suddenly shoved back into the snow again, shivering as it soaks through long sleved t-shirt and then he's trying to help catch Imogen, Diego he figures can fend for himself more then she and for gods sake save the bottle! all of which results in mainly him writhing as he's all. out. laughing....

(trev)
Pushes the hair from his eyes again...shaking his head..letting the moses comment just flow off him...he did actually know someone who had a friend ho---never mind--
"dude bowling is lame" he pulls out a ragged pack of Camels and pulls out a smoke.."chicks dont dig bowlers...i mean cmon, the shoes" he lights it up with the cool naked chick getting undressed as it is turned...
he flips it a few times..oggling it then lights the smoke and returns it to its rightful owner.."its lame man...what time you going? Can i come along and watch?" grinning a bit and glancing to the spot where the car goes, now addressing the problem.."who you lend it to man? you shouldnt give out yer car...dude..i got a friend who lent out his car...fucker did a run with it, and got busted..bops impounded the car, and came to him after spouting all sorts of shit...shouldnt lend out the car man...." shaking his head..Oh Trevor...wise one all of 19 years old

(dire)
*Down the street walks everyones favorite metis madman. Pausing to take a swipe at the closest goblin here and now he's just out strolling.
Steel toed combat boots, jeans, flannel shirt under the leather jacket two sizes too big.*

(imogen)
Alright, that's it. James had to grab her legs and haul her, but down she goes into the snow, sliding across with a "Hey! Bloody fuckin'..." a spill of indignant british outrage and whatever it was that James was is not completed as she first... ensures the safety of the bottle of liqueur, with the help of Tristan. And then.

She doesn't particularly take the time for a snow ball, nor does she bother grabbing various parts of James's clothing and shoving snow in his face. Instead, the good doctor rolls and with a very large handful of snow and pushes it into James's face.

Imogen seems to be able to fend for herself just fine, alright.

(diego)
he was to busy grining at tristan in victory to react the point where hands lash out pushing tristan into the snow is when the grin fades. a step about to be taken backwards as he is grabbed pulled into that writhing pile in the snow, why hello arnt you nice and warm. oooh shit that cold. oh no not my pants anything but the pants. there too expensive to do this too glasses slide from his face falling into a snow bank not far away he winces my glasses. .

(dire)
*The young man pauses with a very clear look of astonishment on his face and his head can'ts to the side*

(james)
he should growl and be all fierce and glare and bristle and be the big bad Ahroun that he is
but he?
is just howling in laughter
Imogen suddenly snowplowing his face was the last straw
he can't fight back anymore
he's just laughing too hard

"Allright! I give...... oh christ I GIVE!"

somehow forced out through the sputtering sidesplitting stitches
snow down his shirt (not like the wifebeater protected much)
snow down his pants
snow covering his face
snow in his dreads
(yes it is I! the abominable snowgnawer!)
he just stops fighting and takes it

after hanging around with his pack the last few days?
it's damn good to be around people with senses of humor
(no matter how much Imogen denies she owns one)

(dell)
"No way man." He shakes his head and eyes Trev for a moment, gathering quite a serious look to his expression. "You have a bad day, man? Fuck it, let's go bowling. Your ex-wife comes in while you're at work and takes all of your shit? Fuck it dude...let's go bowling. Bowling is like...is like...it's like that special place man .... it's just you ... the lane.....and the ball man." He holds a gloved hand out for his lighter, not allowing Trev the opportunity to steal that one. "Dude, like forget the shoes man ... the shoes are like....a minute part of the equation..." Shaking his head he chuckles as the group tumbles into the snow..." That's the best movie dude....you gotta get real high...take a vic...and watch that movie..." Movie? What move? A pause, hands readjust his cap. "...uh....this dude man. He came by and bought some smoke...and he needed a car.....I promote good Karma Trev....if you do nothing else in this fucked up existence kid, take care of your feet and promote good Karma..."

(trev)
He stops for a moment...just some dude...the chevelle..what the fuck was dell smoking "First of all i aint even going there with bowling...it aint some spiritual thing, its what fat middle aged men do as a sport when they cant fucking toss a football anymore...not that i like football much anyways..i mean shit, i dont need any fuckin ball bad enough to have a bunch of jock dudes flopping on top of me...but bowling...shit..." he shakes his head....he wasnt going to win this argument, and he knew to pick his battles wisely--not to mention he was already on to the next topic.."dude...i believe in karma.. i mean ya gotta do others good and you get good shit back at ya...but dude that the..chevelle" the word slips out as if he was talking about a God..."i mean man---what if hes bonin his girl on your seats" a laughter escapes his lips.."dude hes gonna let one go on your seats...then what ya gonna do?"

(dire)
*He stands there watching the scene and one hand comes up to scrach his head.*

(dell)
"Fuck football man. When the truth comes out....you'll see the whole football league man is gonna be filled with homosexuals...you just watch and see." He nods and watches the brawl in the snow. "Bowling man. It's the art of like ...zen dude. He's not going to let one go on my seats dude...." a pause. "You think? Get the fuck out man ..... " He reaches to one side and grabs his cold bottle of Mountain Dew. "....you gotta watch that movie with me man .... it's fuckin' great." Taking a long drink he recaps the bottle and sits it back down. "...he better bring back the Chevelle man ... I got bowling tomorrow..."

(tristan)
Even if he could growl and be all big and bad like james - there is no way he possibly could as he? is laughing every bit as hard... right around that grin of Pure. triumph and a look of impressed delight as Imogen manages to deal the final blow to their friend, and he just.. relaxes into the snowbank, hand patting Diego on the shoulder.. comment for both of them.. "Nice move mates... nice move. I'da been a complete gonner without ya..." sputtered through continued laughter as smooth roll and stomach crunch pulls lean pretty (snowcovered) boy to a sitting position, that bottle carefully guarded, glasses grabbed before they scratch too bad.. and completely. un.re.pent.ant. grin offered James. "And I hope you've learned your lesson!"

(dire)
*He just stands there looking at them all cackeling and thinks they are under some strange effect and looks around for the cause*

(trev)
He glances at him..."what movie dude?" looking right at Dell.."what the fuck you talking bout...dude..." he pauses and smokes the smoke quietly....pondering..thinking.."dude hes letting on go on your seat...bonin his girl right there...nasty..you better wash that thing when he brings it back i mean...gross..I think its lame...bowling..but shit ill come watch, i mean--nothing else is going on in this town"
(imogen)
Grinning, as she untangles herself from the snow she'd gotten herself forced beneath, rolling to her knees. Her hair is always thick, and always waved, and the snow clinging to the tendrils and curls rimming them with white.

She points a finger in James's direction as she gets to a half crouch, her other gloved (snow covered hand) running through her hair, shaking some of the flakes loose, "I was goin' t'help you." She accuses as her pointing finger drops as does her other hand, dropping to brush at her jeaned thighs.

(dell)
Blinking slowly, he looks at Trev....it takes a moment for his thoughts to clear and finally he recalls exactly what he was talking about. "Oooooh yeah. That movie dude, that movie with that kid and Orphan Annie's bee bee gun or some shit? You know?" He elbows Trev. "C'mon dude .... 'you're gonna poke your eye out with that thing!'" And it must be noted that by this time, Dell is rolling and laughing, holding his side as he leans against Trev. " Fuck you man, you know the one with the kid and his mom bundles him up like this big stay puff marshmallow man and he falls in the snow and can't get up?" Dell is still laughing, a jolly sound that only pot heads can appreciate. When you grow up, you die a little bit inside. Smoke weed. Stay young. "He's not lettin' one go on my car...."

(trev)
He smiles still remotely sconfused for a second, while he tries to follow the pothead rant...and then it clicks "oooh ralphy...yeah..and the bunny suit dude...the fucking bunny suit..your gonna poke out your eye, i knew a guy who had a bee bee gun man....he did poke out his eye, had to wear a fucking pirate patch man....over the eye hole...dude his eye just like fell right out man" he nods...eyes moving back to the open space where a chevelle should sit..."dude whos got the car again?"


(james)
his sides hurt
(they're damn cold, too)
just laying in the snow and chuckling

"I have." nodded sagely, finally pulling himself to his feet "Next time I'll make sure you don't have backup."

a brow lifting at Imogen
wait... was that a grin?!

"You did." hand held out to help her up, then drag Tris and Deigo from the snow he placed them in "To lose."

winked in tease
he may have worked up a sweat moving
but he's certainly realized the chill factor now
already heading back towards the warmth of the apartment

(dire)
*He looks among them all and clears his throat. Voice coming out melodic and liting with it's accent. Not french but tha'ts a part of it. Blue eyes the color of glacier heart ice behold them.* You all ok?

(dell)
Wiping tears from his green blood shot eyes with gloved fingers, his laughter slowly subsides. "And that fucking lamp. Remember that sexy leg lamp that looked like some freak of nature?? Dude ... I'd like to have a lamp like one of those. You know when Sari left me..." A pause. Here we go. Sari would be Dell's ex wife. Married at the age of 18, Sari and Dell were in love. Until she met a much richer white collar stock broker. Love left real fucking fast. "You know she took every thing. Even my goddamned 'dogs playing poker' blanket hanging picture thing dude....and my Kelly the cat clock. You know that black cat that fucking cat man. I swear that cat and its moving eyes watched me...." A pause and he sighs, looking around rather blankly. "Dude ... weren't you rollin' one?" Another pause. "That fuckin' dog playing poker picture really made the living room dude...." He takes another drink of the Mountain Dew. "That guy man .... that guy. You know that guy with the fucked up hair? The hell is up with that hair? I think it's like a ....mullet....he borrowed the Chevelle."

(tristan)
He? is just cracking up, and in a damn good bit of shock at a full on -grin- from Imogen... he clasps James' hand, drug to his feet, a smooth turn helping pull Diego up as well, offering him back his glasses with a grin...
Dire's comment breaks through, and he nods, still laughing. "Sure thing Dire - just recovering a bit of our childhood - come on in.. we'll get warm and open the bottle Imogen brought." To imogen, he offers said bottle again, and then his arm - ever the gentleman unlike his runaway tribesmate dashing toward the warmth of small apartment - arm offered even though she was gonna help him...

(trev)
He stops cold "you let a dude with a MULLET take the Chevelle?" shaking his head..hair falling right back into the blue eyes.."dude...what the fuck were you thinking?" he shakes his head and perches himself on the stoop..pullin out his own sack, and breaking some up inside the baggie, paper in hand, he manages to balance the bagie on one leg while rolling one handed, tonge gliding along the glued paper, and whammo almost perfect, slightly pregnant joint....he looks it over...eyeing it..and shrugs once in appoval.."dude its rolled" amazing isnt it, someone lacking many of the skills needed to do many normal things, could just whip out a joint like lightning...hey some talents were special "Dude, she was a bitch....fuck her mannn you dont need her...she was hot though" he shrugs and tosses the J to Dell

(dell)
He takes off his bulky gloves and accepts the smoke gladly. With the nudie amazing magical lighter he fires it up and takes a deep puff....holding his breath for a long moment he exhales the smoke in neat, nifty rings. "Yeah. She was hot. She took the fuckin' dogs playing poker velvet picture man...that's blasphemous dude. She did it just do dig that knife in a little deeper..." Another toke he takes before handing it back to Trev. "It's a goddamned hair cut. A fucked up cut....but you can't judge a man by his hair ... you said you wanted dreds for christ sakes...."

(imogen)
She is half way to getting up as James offers her his hand, in a crouching position, but a brief grasp of his hand is leverage, and she gets to her feet.

A glance of her shoulder at Dire, before she turns back, taking the offered bottle (but not his arm). Her eyes narrow, quickly checking the bottle for damage, and shaking her head, causing her hair to sway with the motion freeing up the last of the snow. A brief movement of her hand to Tristan. After you, of course.

A brief shake of her shoulders, trying to breath some warmth into her flesh, before she abandons that prospect and simply follows everyone else in the search for a warmer climate.

(trev)
He looks at Dell like he was speaking another language..."dude dreads get you laid man...a mullet, thats fucked up man...i men a mullet can get your ass kicked....i new a dude who had a mullet, he always got kicked around man...i mean shit, cmon..fuck--what is it you want long hair...or short hair.. i mean make up your mind" he shakes his head and watches the lighter as it ignited the joint..."dude the poker picture? she took it? fuck man....thats just---" he shakes his head..."man thats just wrong"

(dire)
*He walks with them. They all wet and him nice and dry for once. He doens't quite get it totally but they seemed to be having fun so he smiles and goes along with him. He's in a good mood having just come from Danni's
He asends the steps after them and looks around and sniffs the air before going in himself*

(diego)
he takes the offered hand pulling himself to his feet before slipping shades over his face grining ever so slightly from between now messed up hair and crumpled clothe.s (my outfit my beautiful outfit) you are alright and tristan soo cute wet and sodden he just smiles at the 2 others he doesnt know yet "i should go get changed"

(dire)
*he gives a some what bemused smile and looks around one last time. Sniffs the air and follows*

(trev)
His head tilts..."im like who man?" pondering the words..."ohh the old dude who was on the Tonight show before Leno?" he nods.."naw man im not like him...i didnt even like him.. that envelope thing on the head was dumb..i mean i only saw it in reruns, or on those infomercials at 4 am....but naw man, Lenos cooler...Dude...his chin like protrudes to here man" his hand goes out straight in front of his face..."i mean shit....he had Liv Tyler ont he other night man...she is so fucking hot...dude..whens mullet guy coming back with the Chevelle?" he looks down the street.."man i think hes bonin his girl on your seat"


(james)
he's already back inside
once he's realized the cold - he bailed
not even noticing Dire's arrival

the door's open
and the apartment is waaaarm
warmer than it should be
even with the heater on high it shouldn't have warmed up this fast
cause they kept the heater off while the door was open to move things in
but the temperature has risen now
(and it might be due to that little unlit yet half burned candle sitting quietly in the corner)

by the time they get in
he's sitting on the couch
soaked wifebeater stripped off
attempting to untangle the t-shirt and get it on fast enough
vicious ashed scars showing up over his back and shoulders
eagle's brand on his chest
just...... shivering

that's when he notices Dire's presence
or at least the... scent.... of him
brow lifting as he glances up
a nod up

"Hey Dire."

(dell)
Blink. Blink blink. He takes the smoke when it's passed his way and just stares at Trev as if he grew a third eye right in the middle of his forehead. "You have smoked yourself stupid. You are literally smoking away brain cells dude as ...as we sit here on these steps man. You gotta go to school man. Dude, like Jimmy fuckin' Carter? The former President? The goddamned Ambassador to the world? " Blink blink. "No more smoke for you man ...and you know what, here, just give me all of it to be certain you ain't smokin' no more......confusing Johnny Carson with Jimmy Carter, man.....you are....you are just...." His words trail off as he starts to laugh, and shakes his head. "The Chevelle will be back tonight dude.....Johnny Carson, man you are a trip dude...."


(dire)
*He nods to James and smiles. Would laugh as he's been around for about a half hour now but that's ok. He nods* Hey James. Yall seem to be.. having fun this evening.

* he moves out of the way and kinda watches. Hands in the pockets of his jacket.*

(trev)
He thinks for a moment.."oh the penut guy...yeah the dude with the big teeth...yeah i know who you mean" he laughs and takes a step back..."dude thats like wrong man...you cant take my shit, thats like---dudeee" he takes the joint..puff puff pass and glances out to the quiet-now-street...
"dude whens it gonna warm up man...its fucking January...fucking colder then shit "

(tristan)
Gestured on by Imogen, he grins at his new neighbor and nods.. "Go right ahead - come join us when you're dry?" Smile hopeful - he's pretty cute wet too, and he's laughing as he slips into his apartment.
It's not big - just an effiency, all one room except the bathroom kinda deal. He slides past Dire (ooooooooh warrrrrrm in here) And he's stripping out of soaking wet t-shirt, head shaking sending water everywhere from his curls (gee. guess who he's related too.) and sweater found and pulled over leanly muscled form. "what brings you this way, Dire?" curious...

(Diego)
where the others flood into the little down stairs flat he stops at the door a hand on tristans shoulder to stop him to talk softly to him, "hey if you ever need to like borrow a cup of sugar... or something" is there doubt to what that or something is? "i live upstairs 3c" and then there is an offer to come back down his smile grows wider "i guess i will see you soon then" continues to make his way upstairs.

(dire)
*He jerks a thumb* My... * he ponders how to put it. Those blue eyes flickering over the people arrayed int hte room around him the warmpth hitting him like a wave and he slips out of the jacket and holds it. his lithe form graceful almost beyond belife. As if the man had extra joints or no bones or something.
He tilts his head to the door and even as the tattoo above his left brow stands out his eyes flicker that way *

My.. Danni lives round here.

(Dell)
"It's supposed to be warm now dude....isn't it? It's January right?" He asks again, taking the smoke and deeply inhaling of it. I love you Mary Jane... "Trev, man...dude...you really gotta get to school...." He laughs and shakes his head, passing it over to his stoop mate. "I'm going to hell dude, I'm so fucked up. You know that guy...that guy that lives over on 9th and Morris...Jewish guy....Schmig...Schmi...something...he calls me today and wants to come buy a bag...but he just...he snorts dude, you know? Like hacks his snot back up in his nose. That's fuckin' sick man. It bothers me. So I told him ... I wasn't working today, I wasn't doing nothing today ... he's like ...'why' I says, well it's fuckin' Hanukkah ain't it? He says to me, no man ..and you ain't Jewish. I says, well fuck you. I can be Jewish if I want, and I say I'm Jewish today and I'm not working....I'm not doing a damn thing...." Laughing he takes another toke when it's offered and passes it back. "He stammered and fell over himself for about ten minutes before he said he'd call back today...I hate that guy man, fuckin' snortin' all the time, that's gross."

(imogen)
She steps into the pleasant warmth of the interior of Tristan's new home, pulling off her jacket, and either hanging it up, or draping it across the nearest surface. The next nearest surface serves as a spot to put the bottle of tequila. Gloves removed and she slowly drags pale delicate fingers through her red locks, working out a few of the knots, some of the kinks and pushing the firey out of control mass over her shoulders and behind her ears away from her face.

Boots removed, and she enters the apartment, scooping up the bottle once more. She offers in the mutual direction of both Gnawers, holding it by the neck of the bottle. Whoever takes it first and all of that.

(trev)
He shakes his head..."man you are weird...and what the fuck you talking bout i gottta go to school...you see me roll that joint..thats talent man he laughs..."man snorting is better then fucking letting one go on your seats, which is what i think your mullet guy is doing right now..."
he shakes his head.."dude and thats your chevelle" he checks his watch...and looks up the street..."dude i gotta go man....fucking getting late n shit...you gettin yer car back man--cause it aint cool if he fucking steals your wheels man...you just fixed her up...dude are you bowling tomorrow?"

(james)
My Danni
that's a tactful way to put it
and the Gnawer just chuckles
scooting over on the couch
finally climbing and crawling and snuggling into his shirt
BDU's are still soaked, but he'll have to make due
those he doesn't have an extra layer

streeeetching to take the bottle from Imogen
that will warm one up

"Have I ever mentioned you're a godsend, woman?"

it's cracked open, but handed to Tristan
is his pad, after all

(dell)
Dell is zoning, he's hearing Trev, but ... not really hearing him ... blinking he looks at Trev and holds out a hand, pot heads and drunks ... always touching one another. "Dude. I gotta get my league shirt out of the cleaners in the morning.....polish my ball...the Chevelle will be back man ...chill....it's all about karma dude." Slowly he stands, gathering up his Mountain Dew and his gloves. "Be careful on those steps man ... I smoked three J's with some kid and he fell down 'em ... bounced on his head and ass all the way down .... never smoked with that kid again..." A pause as he starts up the stairs, hungry and tired all at once. "Come by tomorrow man ...I shall introduce you to the wonders of Jersey's finest bowling alley..."

(tristan)
He's pulled aside for a moment, and leans into that whisper, brows lifting slightly (...or. something...indeed...) as he grins.. "I'll remember that. See ya in a few.." and then he's in the apartment again, chuckling at the thoughtful way Dire says Danny.. He looks around, and well. the glasses aren't put away yet, or even out of the box, so he just grins as that bottle is cracked and offered. He lifts it in toast - James, Imogen, everyone included, and tips it back for a first swig, making a face as he chuckles and hands it back to james. He just flat out grins at Imogen. "A godsend with a wicked sense of humor... take it I'm off Tequilia restriction now?"

(diego)
hes down soon enough what did he do run as soon as he was out of sight? probably ask the ones with better sense of hearing they may have noticed the light pitterpat of feet on stairs.... or the clomp back down again before he is once more standing next to the door. a box dropped at his feet . sunglasses gone. duffle coat gone (he was only coming downstairs ankle socks boots not really needed for the decent. a pair of industri jeans those scary ones with splatters of paint on them, and a long sleeved tshirt nice and warm a light blue this time. knocking on the door. he stands there waiting trying to drag fingers through his hair to neaten it up a little bit while juggling his own bottle of tequilla, (seems it is the drink of choice saw imogen with it afterall hey look at that its even got a worm) a handful of shotglasses a salt shaker and oooh is that a lemon.

(imogen)
"No, I think that might be the first time you've ever said that to me, James," a quirk of an eyebrow, and finding some sort of suitable sitting space. Be it a box (that does not say fragile) or stairs, or even the floor, that failing.

She glances at Tristan, "For now, yeah. Though," A moment's pause as she shifts her weight, to allow a hand to slide into the pocket of her jeans. "I brought precautions this time." The half smile that curls her lips is far too saccharine to be anything but false as she comes out with a small round cylinder, with a screw on top. "Advil," as she offers it to the Gnawer kin.

(trev)
He heads off turning once to comment.."dude i think i knew that guy"
just like johnny carson...or jimmy carter...or whoever...
and up the street he heads...

(Dell)
::trudges ..off...to..bed....makes mental note...to kill.....pink::

(dire)
*He listens and watches with a smile. Sniffs the air and turns back to watch the interaction.
looking around the place again he turns and those bluse fall on Tristan* So this is your new place?

(james)
there's a bit of a smirking chuckle
taking the bottle on his stretch to answer the door
even before the knock sounds
slugging back a good amount
(uh.... did we forget we can't drink, Jamey-boy?)
and handing the bottle back to........ whomever is closest
handle trolling and the door slides open

"C'mon in"

easy grin offered to the kid with
-ooooh lordy he came prepared

(diego)
warm brown eyes that mach his mocha skin. flow over him that smile growing on youthful face as the 5'5" tall midget slips past the one with dredlocks to make a better study of the other two, the woman and dire. finally resting on the resident kinfolk whos flat they now possess oooh look room got smaller. "thought prehaps you might like a welcome gift my uncle sends me up a bottle every coupla months or so and saw you like it an all " nodding towards the bottle of tequilla now possessed by james "brought some other stuff you might not have yet or at least unpaked yet moving in an all"

(dire)
The 6'3"skald looks over. While lanky he's powerful in that gymnist sort of way. The get of fenris tatoo on his face, above his left brow kinda gives away what he is to those in the know*


(tristan)
He... just.. stares at that little bottle, before he's absolutely cracking up... taking the advil and setting it in prime position on the ledge of the window above the sink. "Perfect, Imogen.. thank you."
A grin as he

Posted by james at January 21, 2003 12:00 AM
Comments
Post a comment
Name:


Email Address:


URL:


Comments:


Remember info?