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]

Someone's supposed to be delivering some. I mean, I'd prefer a pack of smokes and a glass of whiskey, but I guess this will do.

[He's sort of leaning in the window at the moment, awkwardly trying to give directions to someone when he has absolutely zero clue about the location of anything here. This wasn't bad to worse.

This was worse to fucking sideways.]

[mightbeconcussed]

[ She chuckles a little. ] I can't do the smokes, but I could deliver the whiskey. After you've got the pants.

I'm Lucy. The Welcome Wagon here should include alcohol. Sadly, we haven't gotten that organized.

[velveteenwolf]

I've got pants on. And whiskey would be, you know, pretty much the best thing in the world, right about now.

[She gets a smile because alcohol? You're like his new bestfriend.]

I'm Peter.

[mightbeconcussed]

Peter, where are you exactly and I'll be there in a few minutes.

[ She understands the practice of using alcohol as a coping mechanism. ]

[velveteenwolf]

[She gives her the number on his room... it's one of the apartments, ground floor.]

Only think I can really offer in return is a really awesome hand massage and a couple cheap tricks.

[He grins, not mentioning she might just get those for free. Rumanceks were helpless showoffs.]

[mightbeconcussed]

Don't underestimate a good hand massage. As for the cheap tricks, I'd have to see them first.

[She's going to like Peter.

She knocks on his door about fifteen minutes later with a bottle of Jamesons in hand. It's not quite full because it came straight from her bar, but it should get the job done. She's also got a couple of whiskey glasses in her bag and a liter of cola to mix with her whiskey. She's sort of assuming he takes his straight. ]

[velveteenwolf]

My mother's hand massages were legendary and I'm her apprentice here using her powers for ill.

[There's a waggle of his eyebrows, teasing, although the part about Lynda's hand massages being legend? That part was cold, hard fact, so you know. He opens the door with a flair, the commensurate showman as he shows her into his apartment. He's still not sure he's comfortable with that, living in this place with four walls and a roof, and no secret doors, herbs to ward off the evil eye and a pentacle for good fortune.]

Come in, savior of my worldly woes.

[Yeah, totally a fucking dramatic, when the moon was right.]

[mightbeconcussed]

[ Dramatic but incredibly adorable. His dramatics make her laugh as she steps over the threshold. ]


I had no idea that whiskey was so powerful.

[velveteenwolf]

It is when you aint got any.

[Peter declares this with an easy smile and just a hint of a southern drawl. One of the benefits of being a traveler is that he can murder badly several different accents. Enjoy.

He closes the door behind her, the room unsurprisingly bare, an extra pair of jeans and a couple shirts tossed on the bed. See? He has clothes now!

...He still needs shoes, but Peter is liable to forgetting most people consider them a necessity anyway.]

[mightbeconcussed]

I'll keep that in mind. [ She likes the southern drawl. She's got more of a southern belle accent, but it's nice to talk to someone with any kind of southern accent. They're not terribly common here.

Clothes are good. Shoes are great, but Lucy doesn't have any that would fit him. She carries her bag over to a table, gets out her glasses and pours him one, passing it over. ]

I've got coke if you want to mix it. [ She demonstrates by mixing herself a whiskey and coke.]