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 Posted: Tue Aug 18, 2009 11:28 am
Well, every day was an exaggeration, but Valeriu didn't correct them. His ego fluffed, just a little bit.
Yes, I am awesome. Look at these crocodile v'restling muscles! Of course you v'ould feel bad, yes. He preened to himself.
"Jaguars too, but I am not sure v'hich is more difficult," he added cheerily, but the happy dropped out of his voice the minute Josh starting talking on his cell phone. "V'hat? V'hat! No, no! Help is not on the v'ay! They have better things to do today!"
He glared, oh how he glared!
"A Jaklovzsky does not give up, you know," he pointed out to Writ, stubbornly. "I v'ill v'in this, and my couch v'ill look beautiful next to the rug, you fool." He could see it now - right where the old, ugly couch was. "And don't be looking at my sister like that. No baby-barbecue. She's not--Sydni! Did you eat that entire bag?"
He was aghast.
"As soon as v'e get home, you are going to brush your teeth for ten minutes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"NO!"
"Terrible twos," he muttered darkly to the men. "Hating on the man. Rebellion. Raging against the machine - kids these days, you know. V'ild and uncontrollable. Next thing you know she'll be asking to get a tattoo."
"I like flowers."
"No, Sydni! No, no flowery tramp stamp for you!" The girl huffed, crossed her arms, and threw herself back against the couch sulkily, stuffing a hand into her mouth in an open act of viva la revolucion. "Just a terrible thing, these days."
He sighed, and kept on trucking, and the couch slid a few more feet and down the next block. Almost home, almost home!
"That is very plausible. But how do they even tell the difference between us and gene-modders? ID still doesn't matter." He supposed, sure, there were some godlings that had physical qualities that even gene-modding couldn't replicate, but it was still a strange endeavor. And, at this point, he didn't care about this stranger, Josh, listening in - it didn't matter. If he already knew what the Game was, good for him; and if he didn't know what the difference between Players and gene-modders was, well...Valeriu wasn't going to say anyway.
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Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2009 7:11 pm
Writ gave Vale a look, he knew his friend would like the ego boost. See, he wasn't that bad of a guy, he knew how to put in a good word for his friends. Lie or not, somebody felt better about themselves.
"Oh come on Vale, give the kid a break, you should've seen me and Quinn back when we were kids, we were practically made out of sugar." Though there wasn't a time when kid Writ met kid Quinn, but he was sure they were the hyperactive, coffee flavored embodiments of ADD.
"So what are you if you guys ain't gene modders?" Josh looked a little confused, "Don't tell me you guys are born like that?"
"Josh, is there any gene modder out there that could turn into a full grown coyote" Writ snapped his fingers, and his nails grew into claws, "Like that? These ears aren't for show you know."
"So is this like, dungeons and dragons s**t?"
"I haven't seen any dragons or been in any dungeons, but yeah, I guess you can say that."
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Posted: Sat Aug 22, 2009 1:11 pm
Valeriu frowned at Writ, in a way that said he did not think Writ should be talking about such things.
Sure, talking about the Game in abstract terms was fine; people knew about it, people knew there were Players. But they didn't know - and that sort of information shouldn't be thrown willy-nilly. Writ could've just said they were special gene-modders.
Valeriu had grown distinctly uncomfortable with the conversation, and exactly how much explicit information Writ was giving away. The couch screeched to a halt in front of doorstep.
It wasn't his, but they didn't know that. And now he didn't want them to know where he lived, if Writ was so prone to throwing out information.
"Alright, off," he growled, gladly releasing the couch and relieving his back of the strain. "The train's made it to the station. I v'in the bet, and the couch is mine. Begone. Go get a job, or something. Something that does not involve making my life harder."
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:15 pm
Josh shrugged and left. But not before getting Writ's number. It wasn't everyday you met an urban legend. He wanted the bragging rights, and what better way to say you know the werewolf of the city than having his phone number?
Writ was going to get irritated by his ringtone very soon.
He waited for Josh to go out of sight, then said to Vale, "You do know that we didn't make a bet, right?" Vale probably knew this, but Writ just wanted to make sure. If he could convince the guy that Faylen was his son, then anything was possible.
Writ looked at the apartment building, "Nice place. Need any help carrying this before you get killed?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:28 pm
Valeriu looked innocently back at Writ, leaning against his couch, and hand held out expectantly.
"You guys lost the bet you lied about. If I'd lost it, you v'ould have been asking money from me," he countered, conversationally. "Cough it up, or I take it in blood money. How much v'ill one of your kidneys sell, you think?" He laughed in a way that said he was not so much laughing as darkly amused.
"I just pushed this couch and your heavy bulk several blocks."
Money. Compensation. He wanted it.
"But I can get it inside just fine. Don't you v'orry."
His smile was all loan shark.
He won the goddamn bet, and he was going to get his goddamn money.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:40 pm
"Fine, fine." Writ said, his arms out in the air in a mock surrender, "Here, all the money I got"
Out from his pocket he tossed Vale a stolen wallet, there was about two dollars in there. The credit cards were maxed out and the debit cards were empty, it was really, and truly all the money he had. He had spent most of the physical bills in the market, and really, he could afford to lose one wallet. It just meant having to take another one.
"Take it, I'll just have to live on bad potatoes the next few days." A shrug. He didn't mind. Quite frankly, bad potatoes were better than just eating straight from the garbage can.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:50 pm
"You," he stated, inspecting the poor, beaten wallet, "are a shiftless bum." He tossed it back with a grin. "Keep it for now. I'll just consider it a debt unpaid."
He put on a sterner face, leaning over the couch.
"Don't go telling your equally shiftless hobo friends, but," he hesitated. There was Ciro to keep in mind. Ciro, and his unending hatred for the man before him. Valeriu smiled, widely, and hoped Ciro was swearing in fury, wherever he was, for what Valeriu was about to say next. "There's a large, multi-story building in Downers. Brick, kinda dirty on the outside. Gangs keep av'ay from it-" For good reason. Valeriu had seen to that after the last time. "Nobody goes in. If you go down to the third basement level, there's a place to stay if you ever need it. I keep it stocked v'ith non-perishables, and it has a kitchen. Bathroom v'ith running v'ater, electricity." He shrugged. "I know things can be tough for our kind, and I am tired of having Godlings in my house," he muttered darkly.
He did not want to run an orphanage.
"Keep it in mind if you're ever in a tight spot, da?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 10:17 pm
"Gotcha." Writ didn't mind being in debt terribly. If anything, Vale would probably utilize their little deal when he would need help returning that wretched couch. Or maybe he could pull an action movie scene, burst into a room, kick a**, then tell Vale they were even.
Writ liked the latter idea. A lot more job satisfaction. Though telling Vale "I told you so" was pretty satisfying.
"Well, that's awfully nice of you." Writ said to Vale's information, "I'll keep that in mind when I'm in the neighborhood." The hideout sounded good. He had a feeling he was going to find himself in a pinch very soon.
Writ turned around to leave, but not before his head turned back to his friend, "Say, Vale, you feel like stirring up some trouble any time soon?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 10:22 pm
He contemplated the offer; his body liked to remind him that, by all means, he should say no. Keep on the down-low for at least a month. Rest, recover, take a break from trouble and fights. He was paralyzed in one eye, for godssakes. What would he lose next?
Valeriu wasn't very good at listening to his body.
He grinned, more than enthusiastically.
"Alv'ays."
His eyes dropped down to his sister, quiet for so long, and conked out on the couch with the empty bag of kettle corn strewn beside her.
"So long as you never put my sister into a sugar coma, ever again."
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 11:23 pm
"Not my fault, she's the one who took the bag." Writ shrugged, "Well, we'll stay in touch." With a smile, he was off.
Hopefully Vale won't end up as a pile of organs in a paper bag after he showed Tepin that monstousity, because despite the death threats, the glowering, and just the general I-hate-you-ness of Vale, he was a pretty entertaining guy to be around. It'd be a shame to see him go just because of his bad taste in furniture.
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