First Howl + Video

[velveteenwolf]

[It starts with cursing, with some fumbling with the device: and this is why Peter never wanted Roman's fucking iPhone. Jesus fuck how do you get this thing to work?]

Yo.

[There's finally a wave of fingers, although it seems lackluster. Flat blue eyes set into a scruffy face as the image finally catches something more engaging than the floor swings into view. Oh, hey. He's in a pair of boxers that look a little overworn, and he's on the furry side for a teen boy as slender as he is. There's a stylized 'g' tattooed on the left side of his ribs.]

Does anyone have any smokes? I don't do charity, but I'll trade something for it.

[There is a pause, he seems like he's about to cut the feed, but there's a moment of hesitance that ends in mute cursing. He doesn't care, none of this fucking matters. Fuck this place.]

And pants. I guess.

Comments

[velveteenwolf]

Fuck man, you're my savior right now. Yes, please, yes.

[He shrugs his shoulders at the question about trade.]

I give a mean hand massage.

[Yeah, okay, so it's not much, but he hasn't exactly had the time to pick up his typical collection of odds and ends here.]

[spaghettiokay]

[A hand...massage?]

Maybe you can just owe me one...

¿Dónde estás?

[velveteenwolf]

Probably the best I can manage until after a cigarette.

[And maybe some pants. He quirks an eyebrow at the foreign words; he doesn't know Spanish, so he answers in his own native tongue, with a huff of amusement. He has no clue what the guy asked, so he just answers about being Romani.]

[spaghettiokay]

It means "where are you", smartass.

[velveteenwolf]

Oh, well, I'm in one of these charming apartments.

[He gives him the number on his door and hopes that's good enough. He's on the ground floor, with a view of the Fountain from his window.]

Keywords.

[spaghettiokay]

Cool. Be there in a sec.

[More like 600 "secs", but...he makes it eventually, knocks on the door - all that polite society nonsense.

[Normally, he wouldn't be making a trip across town just to bring a stranger some cigarettes, but...considering that it's only been a week since he was brought his own cigarettes, he can justify leaving his room for a minute. And it actually feels kind of nice to get out...]

[velveteenwolf]

[The door opens, and he waves him in, a flat sort of smile curving his mouth, though he does his best to seem pleasant. Yeah, no dead girlfriends here, nope. Just a very personable gypsy, right? Right.]

Hey, thanks, by the way. Lifesaver and all that shit.

[spaghettiokay]

Ehh.

[He shrugs, tossing him the pack without bothering to take one for himself.]

Most just call me Xavier, but...You know. No big deal.

[velveteenwolf]

'Call you' implying it's not your real name?

[It's a curious question as he pulls one from the packs and lifts an eyebrow.]

You got a lighter?

[spaghettiokay]

"Call me" implying that it's typically something other than "Life Saver".

[He grins, fishing a lighter out from his pocket and tossing it Peter's way.]

[velveteenwolf]

Fair enough.

[Peter catches the lighter in his fingers, twirling it was a dextrous flair before clicking the lighter and bringing the flame to the cigarette between his lips.

He inhales deeply, head tilting back for a moment, and it's probably the ritual of it more than anything, but it still makes him feel better.]

[spaghettiokay]

[There's no mistaking the other boy's relief, and...seeing as he's not terribly fond of the cigarettes, anyway...]

You can keep 'em if you want.

[He shrugs.]

Not really a smoker, anyway.

[Of tobacco, at least.]