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High-functioning Marshmallow
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 Posted: Wed Jan 19, 2011 4:47 am
 
He glanced up from the pant leg he was examining to stare back at the man. He couldn't really understand what the man was talking about, but, if he could, he would have answered yes, then probably rambled on about how he needed his fix and he needed it bad until.. ah, well. In the end, the monkey did the best he could. He scaled to the man's shoulder and sat there quietly. Well, wherever the man heads to, the stash would certainly be! Rather than follow, it would be much easier to just sit on him, like he had with that strange man with the skirt.
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Posted: Wed Jan 19, 2011 5:04 am
 ~I need you to need me~~Avien Rothenburger~
The man almost chuckled at the action of the monkey, but knew it would surely come out a sob if he allowed such things and just stood back up straight now, heading for home. "I'll take that as a yes..." He figured the little animal couldn't be any were near as troublesome as Clark had been as of late. Maybe the two would get alone well down in the basement smoking pot? At this point, he would gladly let Romane arrest if brother if he were caught with the illegal substances and let him rot for a little while. A little passive aggressive? I think so...
If Clark hadn't been messing around with Keith again that day, their wouldn't have been nearly as many misunderstandings, and then maybe Kade wouldn't hate him? Yeah, he was assuming the worst already, thinking that the hairdresser had to hate him because of all that was assumed about what went down. If only someone else that wasn't in question at the moment were to explain that it is as Avien said, the man wouldn't be nearly as depressed. But alas, the only people that knew what was going on in that house were Avien, Keith and even Clark to an extent... The other two would in no way ever vouch for the oldest of the group...
//Exit Avien back to his home...// ~Or else my purpose is unclear~
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 10:40 pm
 •••••••••••••••••••••••••••Gwen Bloom
Gwen was taking the long way around town, instead of just going to the garden, her dog was begging to be walked. The brown little puff ball galloped in front of her, eager as always. Gwen was a little tired, she had had a long night, she hadn't been feeling well lately and hadn't left the house.
"Slow down, Missy." she called to the dog as it pulled her along; for something so little, it sure did have a lot of thrust.
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 10:54 pm
 TristⒶn Boyé "Anarchists are opposed to violence; everyone knows that. The main plank of anarchism is the removal of violence from human relations. It is life based on freedom of the individual, without the intervention of the gendarme. For this reason we are the enemies of capitalism which depends on the protection of the gendarme to oblige workers to allow themselves to be exploited-- or even to remain idle and go hungry when it is not in the interest of the bosses to exploit them. We are therefore enemies of the State which is the coercive violent organization of society."--Errico Malatesta Tristan walked down the calm night streets, his long black hair hid his ears, and his eyes, his blue eyes watched the town around him. He walked along the wall of a building, coming up to a corner, he had heard words on the other side, but didn't really know if it was someone or if his mind had wandered too far. He just continued with his walking, his formal attire was crisp and clean, even though he was an Anarchist he believed in looking the way you liked. Tristan liked the look of wealth. He had lived too long as a poverty stricken single parent, he was finally happy to be in wealth, at least some kind of wealth. Still making the attempt to screw the country out of taxes when ever he could, he still had little care for the police, and he knew that it wouldn't be long until they came talking to him, and he knew for sure they wouldn't like what they saw.
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 11:05 pm
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••Gwen Bloom
The little puff let out a set of annoying barks as the shadow moved in front of her crossing her path. However, the dog wasn't the type to attack, only to wimp out and stand in the same place, growling like a beast as it jogged back to it's owner.
Gwen was just as scared as the the dog who hid beneath her legs. Who wore a suit at night, well besides, Vlad...but Missy wouldn't bark at him. This guy was a mobster, a mobster out in the night to abduct and traffic young girls just like her. Who knows what he would do with her dog? Luckily for her, she knew a bit of self defense, finger to the eye, fist to the throat, knee to the groin, and then run like a bat out of hell.
She stood where she was as the shadow moved in front of her. "Vlad, is that you?" she asked, taking a small step back. "What are you doing out at night?" Her voice cracked a little as she spoke, praying to the heavens it was her friend.
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 11:16 pm
TristⒶn Boyé "Anarchists are opposed to violence; everyone knows that. The main plank of anarchism is the removal of violence from human relations. It is life based on freedom of the individual, without the intervention of the gendarme. For this reason we are the enemies of capitalism which depends on the protection of the gendarme to oblige workers to allow themselves to be exploited-- or even to remain idle and go hungry when it is not in the interest of the bosses to exploit them. We are therefore enemies of the State which is the coercive violent organization of society."--Errico Malatesta Shocked by the bark that came from his left Tristan quickly turned towards her, slightly frightened. When he saw the dog he smiled and got on one knee. With his right leg on the ground he held out his right hand and snapped, in a soft way as a kind invitation to be scratched and pet. Then the voice came towards him, he looked up immediately and gave another kind grin. "No, I'm sorry I don't know anyone by that name, let me introduce myself, my name is Tristan Boyé, me and my son are new here." His voice had a seductive French accent matched with a deep soothing tone. His blue eyes gave off little glimmers of light as though they were the source of the moon's light themselves. Every word that came from his lips were persuasive, soft and kind. Every action he made was calculated, exact and had a flow that ballerinas tried their entire lives to achieve. It was these few features that made him a great speaker, he could persuade people to fight back against anything. He had once been the speaker at a gay rights protest, and he was heterosexual. The way he spoke to people made them want to get to know him, but the way he looked made people believe that he was up to know good. For his eyes were sharp and his features were exact. Almost as though someone took Da Vinci's Perfect Man and replicated it into a tall 5'10" French man.
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 11:32 pm
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••Gwen Bloom
The dog did not come to the man, and only further retreated to stand behind the red head as she took a few steps forward. The dog was afraid of strangers, but Gwen had gotten over that for herself. After all, everyone is a stranger at some point.
"Gwen Bloom" she said, looking down on him with almost apoligetic eyes. She was a little embarrassed, for one that she nearly wet her pants seeing him in the shadows, and two, that her little dog wouldn't accept his offer. Now he was just squatting on the ground for no reason. Why couldn't her dog be normal? Now she was just standing her, and she felt awkward.
Even in her awkward stance, Gwen was still pretty, quite attractive even. She had the looks of someone half a decade younger than her, but didn't seem to care much. In fact she felt old. She smiled down at him, calm and innocent for the moment.
The man looked young himself, but she didn't quite know. After all, he said he had a son. So he had to be old enough to bear a son, but at what age? That didn't mean anything.
"I'm sorry, she's skittish." she remarked, a quick purse of her lips as the dog further buried itself between her legs. "It won't do you much good to just to kneel there like that."
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Posted: Mon Feb 07, 2011 11:43 pm
TristⒶn Boyé "Anarchists are opposed to violence; everyone knows that. The main plank of anarchism is the removal of violence from human relations. It is life based on freedom of the individual, without the intervention of the gendarme. For this reason we are the enemies of capitalism which depends on the protection of the gendarme to oblige workers to allow themselves to be exploited-- or even to remain idle and go hungry when it is not in the interest of the bosses to exploit them. We are therefore enemies of the State which is the coercive violent organization of society."--Errico Malatesta Tristan nodded in subtle agreement, and stood up straight, he grew to a tall man whom by the looks of it was quite a bit taller than Gwen. He noticed her hair first, he felt a small knot wrench in his heart, red hair, his mind shifted back to Brena, his darling, oh if she was alive to see her son, to see what their son Micah had become, a dashing young lad with a thirst for love. "Nice to meet you, Gwen." He said calmly as he took her hand softly in his and kissed the top, it was custom where he came from. Just common courtesy of course, though she was attractive, she had a smaller figure, fragile, gentile, subtle lips and kind eyes. "Me and my son Micah, we have moved from France, he's seventeen." His tone was still seductive, even though he had not meant it so. His voice was romantic and it had been one of the things his son got from him, that and his height.
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 12:03 am
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••Gwen Bloom
The dog let out a rough growl from its safe place as Tristan kissed it's owners hand. The girl on the other hand smiled as he did, however, she didn't take it the wrong way. She doubted the man would be coming on to her so early, especially at night. She figured he knew better, after all he was french. They knew how to approach women, didn't they?
"So he must be attending the school here? Lucky you." she said, a slight grimace adorning her usually calm face. She completely ignored the fact that a 17 year old son meant the man had to be well older than her, unless it was a teenage pregnancy. Usually, she would have been beyond herself, an attractive man, older than her, standing in front of her, kissing her hand, and speaking with such romantic charms. However, Tristan had hit a sore spot with the mention of his son, only for Gwen to encounter memories of the school.
"What brought you here?" she asked, curious "It sounds like you're not from around her at all...so Nirvani... Sonata Town? It's not the best place on earth you know."
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 12:13 am
TristⒶn Boyé "Anarchists are opposed to violence; everyone knows that. The main plank of anarchism is the removal of violence from human relations. It is life based on freedom of the individual, without the intervention of the gendarme. For this reason we are the enemies of capitalism which depends on the protection of the gendarme to oblige workers to allow themselves to be exploited-- or even to remain idle and go hungry when it is not in the interest of the bosses to exploit them. We are therefore enemies of the State which is the coercive violent organization of society."--Errico Malatesta "We are from Paris, and I'd rather be here then where I just escaped, I'm 36, single and trying to keep my son out of prison, the police... they never favored me or my family, it's a curse I guess." He said calmly, this girl was very attractive, but she reminded him of Brena, so he seemed like he could in some ways open up a bit, but it was in his nature to be reclusive, why was he being so open about himself, why was he in such a mood as to talk about himself, he didn't know this woman and he was usually very afraid and mistrusting of those around him. "Is there anything a woman such as your self could tell me about the island, I'm not yet familiar with it." He said in a near flirtatious manner, but it was his way of speaking, very pleasuring and very complimentary.
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 7:00 pm
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••Gwen Bloom
Gwen shivered a little bit, her mind wandering to scarier places than the man meant. She was right, he was a mobster. He was flirting with her so he could take her into drug trafficking or whatever mobsters were into. She was going to show him around the island, and then he was going to kidnap her. She just had remember, throat...eyes...groin.
Gwen nodded quickly, figuring to not comment on he mob past, incase it set him off or something. However, in order to not seem so nervous, she smiled at him, and coyly stated, "Yeah, I can tell you the basics...where to shop, where to hang out et cetera, but I don't go out too often to really give you a great detailed experience."
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 8:12 pm
TristⒶn Boyé "Anarchists are opposed to violence; everyone knows that. The main plank of anarchism is the removal of violence from human relations. It is life based on freedom of the individual, without the intervention of the gendarme. For this reason we are the enemies of capitalism which depends on the protection of the gendarme to oblige workers to allow themselves to be exploited-- or even to remain idle and go hungry when it is not in the interest of the bosses to exploit them. We are therefore enemies of the State which is the coercive violent organization of society." --Errico Malatesta Tristan, saw the way she shivered, it was Summer, on an Island. In the city streets, she didn't want him there obviously, he knew by the way she made comments about his son, the way she lied. If she wasn't out often she sure as hell wouldn't be out at night, or at least that's what he thought. He could of been too judging but he always felt disliked. Like his son did before he shrunk into his personal shell, head falling towards the ground. "Alright, I'm... sorry I bothered you," he slowly turned around and began to walk away. He sometimes thought that he'd always feel the pain of loneliness, even his son didn't want to spend time with him, and Tristan didn't blame him, he had been protective of him. He had nearly sheltered him for fear that he'd fall into worse circumstances than Tristan.
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 10:45 pm
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••Gwen Bloom
Gwen let out a huge sigh of relief, letting her body relax. She went to turn but her hands felt a little empty, the leash was gone. Missy, not one to be turned a back on, scampered towards the man, keeping close to his ankles and looking up at him. The dog really had grown up to be quite the priss; she wouldn't let you pet her, but you at least had to try.
The dog yipped to get the man's attention, as Gwen stood behind, mouth agape. It would be Missy to ruin the clean escape, overtime the little monster was turning out to be more trouble than she was worth.
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 10:51 pm
TristⒶn Boyé "Anarchists are opposed to violence; everyone knows that. The main plank of anarchism is the removal of violence from human relations. It is life based on freedom of the individual, without the intervention of the gendarme. For this reason we are the enemies of capitalism which depends on the protection of the gendarme to oblige workers to allow themselves to be exploited-- or even to remain idle and go hungry when it is not in the interest of the bosses to exploit them. We are therefore enemies of the State which is the coercive violent organization of society." --Errico Malatesta Hearing the adorable yipp of the dog, Tristan turned around. To see the little thing following him. "Hello there, what's your name." He said in his smooth voice, as he knelt down giving the animal a loving smile as he reached out to attempt to hold the dog. He was fond of animals, rabbits were some of his favorite, so free, so real, so true. His suit was being wrinkled by his crouched position, but he didn't mind. "Dog, man's best friend, an animal that will stand beside it's owner even after their passing, it's a sad and beautiful thing really, such amazing creatures loving such rude and unapologetic knaves such as the human race."
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Posted: Tue Feb 08, 2011 10:57 pm
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••Gwen Bloom
As soon as Tristan held out his hand to Missy, like clockwork, she ran back to the company of her owner who had come forward pick her up. Missy was a strange little thing, if she was human she'd be a tease.
"Her name is Missy." Gwen responded, petting her dog on the head. "She really doesn't like strangers, don't let her fool you."
Gwen smiled at the man, still staying a few steps away. He was the type to spout off deep thoughts to animals, or to himself, that either meant romantic genius or batshit crazy.
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