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Profiles / Re: Torrin Lynch
« Last post by stella cinere on December 13, 2019, 07:18:57 PM »
Profiles / Charles Harkins
« Last post by blue on December 10, 2019, 01:08:22 PM »
Name: Charles Harkins
Nickname: Charlie
Apparent Age: Early to mid 20s, maybe
Occupation: ??

Face claim: Tom hardy

Charlie's about 6' even, with dark brown hair that's just long enough to be pulled back into a messy paintbrush ponytail. His skin is white, paler than one would expect from a big guy with a certain level of athleticism. He also generally has a five o'clock shadow.

His face is square-jawed and strong, a classic 'all-American' look, except for his mouth which is almost excessively full.  His eyes are gold, rimmed with a very dark ring. His build is broad-shouldered with heavy arms, very clearly the body of someone who spends an awful lot of time working out. He wears dark colors, fitted shirts and comfortable pants, heavy jackets that hide the strangely crooked shape of his shoulders.

Charlie is angry, stoic and stubborn; he has a lot of frustration and negative emotions that he keeps carefully under wraps...but when he bursts, it's frequently disastrous.

There is something birdlike about his eyes, his features, even the way he cocks his head. Not a friendly songbird but a bird of prey, staring at you a little too long, ready to take you down if needs be. His expression can go flat and unreadable, dangerously still, a mask that gives nothing away.
Profiles / Warrick Valentine
« Last post by Beejoux on November 30, 2019, 09:13:21 PM »
Name: Warrick James Valentine
Nickname: Val, Valerie
Apparent Age: 27
Occupation: Bartender, drug dealer, con man for hire, talented magician.

FACECLAIM: Thomas Dekker
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 152lbs
Eye Color: Dark brown, usually coal lined.
Hair Color: Brown bordering on black.
Hair Style: Long and shaggy, but stylishly so, also always sporting a five o'clock shadow or trimmed facial hair.
Skin Color: Caucasian, not super pale, but not tan.
Physique: Slim, might be considered androgynous if his shoulders were a touch less broad. On the pretty side of masculine.


Hard to read, and not just in an ordinary way.  Not nearly as careless or oblivious as he seems.  He's always paying attention, always listening, even when it appears he's not. 
Roleplaying / Accidents Happen [Zeke]
« Last post by Beejoux on November 16, 2019, 09:16:13 PM »
[Wednesday, October __.  3:17pm]
Hey, I know you're not up yet, but I wasn't sure if I'd see you before tomorrow.  I'll be out of town until Sunday night, I got invited on a research dive to an old shipwreck off the coast in Florida. 

Feel free to stay at the apartment, you know where the key is.  Make yourself at home.  If I don't see you tomorrow, maybe I'll see you Sunday?  Dunno how much service I'll have on the boat, guess we'll see...

Talk to you later. 

[Thursday, October __.  7:49pm]
Just got on the boat.  I knew we'd be sleeping in close quarters, but I swear these costs are for grade schools.  Don't think I'm going to fit.  Oh well.  Still worth it.

Hopefully you're taking advantage of a big empty bed.  Hopefully your not out doing anything foolish.

[Saturday, October __.  5:50pm]
God damn, that was amazing!  I've been driving before, but this is the first time I've been to a reef this size, or legit shipwreck.  Apparently it was a trade ship out of the Amazon that got caught in a hurricane.  Real bummer for the people that went down with it, but it's teaming with sea life. 

We also found some old box with a few old coins, and this wicked looking amulet.  You can see it later.  Everyone else wanted the coins, their loss.  This things old as fuck.  Maybe your magician friend can take a look at it?

Anyway, dinner's almost done and I'm going to bed early, cause it's gonna be busy morning and a long drive home tomorrow.  I'll call when I get home if your not there. 

[Sunday, October __. 8:36pm]
911, what is your emergency?

There's a car on its side off the 95, northbound.  It looks like it rolled a few times.  There's a man in the driver's seat, he's not moving.

Can you see if he's still breathing?

I think he is...I can't really reach him, but it looks like his chest is moving. 
... there's a lot of blood, he needs help.

EMTs are on their way already.  Can you see where he's bleeding from?

His head and his left shoulder.  I can't see the injuries though.

That's okay.  The paramedics are five minutes out.  I'll stay on the line with you until they arrive.  Just let me know what's happening with him…

The water was warm, like bath water, stretching out on all sides into inky darkness, save for a pin prick of soft, wavering light from above.  Panic sent a rush of bubbles from his mouth, brought in a choking lungful of salt water, and he had to struggle against the urge to cough, to bring in even more water.  Instead he clenched his teeth and swam for the surface, but it was too damn far, he wasn't going to make it…

His body felt heavy, like something was trying to drag him under. Like the water itself was holding him back, pulling him deeper. 

He made one final, futile thrash, arm stretched up towards the fading light, before the last of the bubbles escaped and the tension drained from reaching fingers. 

He woke up gasping for air, sucking in great, desperate gulps to fill his lungs.  Sweat dotted his brow, soaking into the hospital gown and the sheets draped around him. He'd sat up, much too quickly, and motion jostled injuries he didn't even know he had, pulled his attention down to his hand taped to a board with an IV stuck into the back of it. The broken ribs forced him back down with a pained grunt and a lengthy hiss through clenched teeth.  Moving hurt.  Breathing hurt.

Everything fucking hurt. 

What the fuck had happened?

The last thing he remembered was eating breakfast with the rest of the dive crew…

Later he'd learn he'd flipped his car.  That he'd sustained a pretty serious concussion when his head hit the window on the door, breaking it.  Two broken ribs, 3 bruised, thirty six stitches between the gash on his head, the cut on his forehead, and the piece of glass that'd sliced through his shoulder.  They'd told him he was lucky.  That it was a wonder he hadn't gotten hurt worse than he had.  That he'd even survived. The Jeep was totaled.

They'd salvaged his phone—screen cracked through the center now, notifications filled with texts and missed calls—his bag, keys, and apparently the amulet he'd founding in the shipwreck.  He'd been wearing it on the drive home.

Three days in the hospital.  Half of that time spent unconscious, the rest spent making sure there wasn't any obvious brain damage.  The headache had been sharp and long lasting. He still had it when he'd been discharged.  The painkillers they were sending him home with helped.  Dulled it ignorable, but dulled everything else along with it.  Maybe him feel worse than drunk.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to summon the Uber...
Profiles / Lissa Rivera
« Last post by AMItotic on October 24, 2019, 02:46:35 PM »
Name: Elizabeth Rivera
Nickname: Lissa, Liss
Apparent Age: Early 30s
Occupation: Bodyguard

5'8", stocky and fit, with a long mane of unruly dark auburn hair, she looks like she was born for freckles but bleached by her vampirism. She has bright smiling brown eyes that seem like they're up to something and a toothy grin, hardly putting the effort in to keep her inhuman nature a secret. Whatever she's wearing, she always looks at home, be it tactical gear or a slinky glittery gown, though on her days off she prefers warm colors, leather and furs.

Lissa's a big-hearted woman with an easy smile, a hearty laugh, and a penchant for mischief. Independent and curious, she has a habit for putting her nose in places it doesn't belong, be it forbidden towers or off-limits backstage areas or other people's private lives. There's never been a closed door that Lissa respected, and she has the tendency to steamroll other softer personalities in her own thirst to see and touch everything. A hedonist and a player, she enjoys the finest things life has to offer, and she's willing to set morals aside to have access to the things that she wants. She makes connections quickly but not deeply, and only keeps her loyalty to a small list of people close to her heart. Though she isn't the slightest bit shamed of her own vampirism, she refuses to turn anyone else, and the reason she gives people changes every time they ask. The thing she fears most is being caged, so she does her best not to want anything she couldn't obtain by her own power.

A big cat at rest and lounging, summer campfire smoke, the warmth of a sunburn. Lissa's warm, but she isn't gentle, and there's a certain element of ironic self-destruction in a vampire who feels and acts so fiery and feral.  She seems up to any challenge, like if you revved at her from a stoplight she'd be down for a race, but no so invested to feel jilted when she inevitably lost. If she's after you, it's nothing personal--she just wants her life more than you want yours, clearly.
Profiles / Alcine Winter
« Last post by AMItotic on October 24, 2019, 02:25:24 PM »
Name: Alcine Winter
Nickname: none yet
Apparent Age: Early-mid 20s
Occupation: Clerical assistant

Alcine looks like a tree thats shed its leaves for fall--tall, spindly, and desaturated. Her skin is pale and almost paper-like in texture, her flat hair the faded yellow of old pages, her eyes grey and downcast in a way that is tired, but not sleepy. She wears little round spectacles on a sharp nose that is just a bit too big for her face, and she only ever wears work clothing, crisp button-ups and trim pencil skirts with flats, always flats. No matter how new the clothes, she manages to always look antiquated, like something just misplaced in time. Alcine looks and carries herself like she's fragile, like one wrong stumble would cause her to break.

Alcine is quiet, self-sufficient, and prefers her own company, often shrinking away from crowded events or loud people. Her knowledge is encycolpedic, and she's happiest when asked questions about a topic she knows about, but it takes work to bring her out of her shell and get her to speak at length. Mushrooms and fungi are of special interest to her, the things that thrive away from the sun and in deep, dark caves, untended by anything--she feels a certain kinship with them, if she allows herself to admit it. A shrinking violet and a bit of a pushover, it's difficult for Alcine to stand up for herself if someone applies peer pressure, but she's more likely to avoid the confrontation than to give in to demands. The one thing she does know is that she will never allow herself to be taken to fae again--and under that wilting exterior is someone ruthless and exacting, if pushed.

Mildew, decay, the hollow feeling of a building that's long since been abandoned.  On the surface, she seems fragile--those with more intuitive talents may recognize that she's poison and rot underneath. She's certainly not human, but plays one by day--those who have dealings with the fae might recognize her as marked by the Winter Court, hence her last name--not a fae herself, but someone taken and so warped by proximity to fae magic that it still lingers in her bones.
Profiles / Cillian (Kelly) McGrath
« Last post by blue on October 22, 2019, 01:12:54 PM »
Name: Cillian McGrath
Nickname: Kelly
Apparent Age: Mid-thirties
Occupation: Owns a magic/tea shop on the waterfront.

fc: pre-50-shades Jamie Dornan

Average height, slim and lean, his face is somewhat long and square of jaw, emphasized by a closely-trimmed, somewhat scruffy dark beard. His hair is a light brown, curling over the tips of his ears and brushed back out of bluegreen eyes. His eyebrows are sharp, low over his eyes, and his features by nature are focused and intense, masculine. He dresses, generally, in battered dark-wash jeans and well-fitted collared shirts/vests, leather jackets, and shoes without laces.

Kelly is, by nature, a loner. He has friends, here and there, but he has always [and probably will always] live alone. In general, it won't occur to him to go to other people with problems, nor to help others unless they ask. It's not that he's not altruistic, because the second someone does ask, he's there in a heartbeat to handle whatever problem they might have. He just likes to be asked.

His sense of humor is dry in a way that sometimes people don't understand, deadpan other than an amused arch of eyebrow. People assume he would be, but he is not particularly patient; it's not that he's in a rush to get things done, not really, but more due to the fact that he expects people to know more than they do, and doesn't like having to explain details.

There's a little Irish in his accent; he has a serious calm that usually only comes with age.
Roleplaying / Re: Out of the frying pan, into the fire [Rabi/Tucker/Lukas]
« Last post by Beejoux on October 15, 2019, 08:05:38 PM »
He was going to be smashed. It made Lukas's expression bright and amused -- and he seemed annoyingly fine, finishing off his taco and swiping his hands down. "I won't even charge you for the references."

It all seemed to hit him at once, because he folded his arms across the bar to lean heavily against them, head tipping at a lazy angle to look up at Lukas as he gave a pleased little hum at the offered freebie.

Lukas laughed at him, caught the bartender's attention for a piece of tres leche cake to go and the bill, obviously not too concerned about any of it. "I suggest staying home, at least tomorrow."

"That was the plan," he drawled back, brows pinching just a tiny bit.  "What's tres leche?"  He didn't exactly butcher the pronunciation but it was close.

"Milk and caramel." He looked down at Tucker, leaning in on the bar. "You should probably eat a slice."

"Hmm, probably," he agreed, smiling crookedly.  It did sound good.

"Soak up the alcohol." He stood as he said it, shrugging just one shoulder and smoothing his hair back.

It really wasn’t fair, how attractive he was.  Tucker rolled his eyes up as Lukas stood,  and at this point the admiring was fairly blatant.  "That's a good idea."

Lukas grinned down at him again, patting him on the shoulder. "You should probably call a friend to get you home safe."

His shoulder was warm where Lukas had touched it, or maybe that was his imagination.  "That's a good idea, too."

He grabbed his cake and dropped a couple of bills on the bar, swinging his bag up over his shoulder. "I'll call you when I have something."

"That sounds great."  He remembered not to say thank you, barely.  Offering a dopey grin to the older man as he hoisted up his bag to leave.

Lukas shook his head and left -- and as he did, Rabi caught the bartender's attention for another drink. "You're so transparent."

He watched Lukas leave because, well, why not, before turning to look back at Rabi with both brows lifted.  "About what?"

"Most things." He tipped his head, looking down at Tucker.

Tucker shrugged, nudging one of the empty shot glasses around before asking for a slice of cake from the bartender when he set Rabi's drink down in front of him.

"Two forks," Rabi added, as the guy started to pull away.

He'd shoot him a look, but didn't say anything.  "The margarita was better than the tequila."

"No shit," Rabi agreed, nudging his own glass away. "He was a mess."

Tucker's head tilted as he thought about that.  "Was he?"  It didn't seem like it to him.

"I think so." He shook his head, frowning across at the alcohol. "Doing tequila shots. Really."

He frowned, gaze flicking to Rabi's glass.  "What's wrong with that?"

"He was too old for it, and you're too young." He looked sour, attention flashing onto Tucker.

Tuck waited until the bartender had set the cake down in front of them and walked away before answering.  "Technically I'm too young for margaritas, but you ordered me one of those."  With a shrug he picked up one of the forks.  "He's helping, and he doesn't know any of the details.  Does it matter what he drinks?"

Rabi started to answer -- then swallowed it, annoyed, and huffed out a breath.

Cradling his cheek with one hand, he sank the tangs of his fork into the cake to separate a bite.  It was good, creamy and caramel.

Rabi reached out to stab one of his more roughly, taking a bigger bite -- and then sighing again. It was actually really good, especially considering how much of a dive place this was. "Shit. The tacos are probably good too..."

"They looked good."  From what he could see when he wasn't just staring.  He took another bite of cake with an appreciative hum, licking a bit caramel from the corner of his mouth.

It was strange that Rabi actually looked annoyed about the food being good. He stabbed another piece of cake roughly.

Pale eyes tracked the fork.  "It seemed like you were in a decent enough mood when I got here, what happened?"

"I don't know what you mean." He spoke around the bite of cake, leaning his elbows in on the table.

"So you're just stabbing that cake like it wronged you for no reason?" He gestured with the end of his fork.  "And you shoved the drink you just got away.”  Not to mention the huffing, the general feel of annoyance coming off him.

He looked aside at Tucker, eyes narrowed. "You made bad choices. I told you not to do that. I'm definitely going to have to walk you home, now."

Tucker snorted, helping himself to another bite.  "I can get an Uber.  Not like it's hard."

"You could. But maybe you get jumped and robbed, since you're so incredibly drunk." Rabi frowned down into his drink, then pulled it in again to take a long gulp.

"Uh huh."  He pulled the cake a little closer.  "Being sober wouldn't prevent that from happening.  It could have happened last night, or earlier today, or on my way here "

He swallowed, turning the fork in his grasp. "But being drunk, you might do something exceptionally stupid."

He took another bite, not watching Rabi now.  "Uh huh.  And what exceptionally stupid thing are you concerned about me doing?"

"Well, if he'd said "how about you come home with me and roll around a bit" I think you would have said, "yes sir," and then taken off all your clothes, left the pin laying around to be found. And then another crazy magician would have --" He bit down on the rest of that thought. Clenched his jaw. Stabbed more cake.

Another fork full of cake paused on the way to his mouth and lowered again.  "You think after doing all this I'd be that careless?"  Didn't matter that Lukas wouldn't have asked.

Rabi filled his own mouth and just looked at Tuck, flatly.

He set his fork down without taking that last bite, and grabbed up his napkin again to take care of any hint of caramel that might have been clinging.  Then he tossed it on the table and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

He stole the rest of the cake halfway out of spite, downed his drink, and then stood himself.

He he was up and out of his stool and heading for the bathroom as Rabi finished off the cake and his drink.

He paid for it all, so that was something at least. And he was still there to wait for Tucker, somewhat impatiently, when he came out.

It'd take a bit, almost ten minutes before Tucker emerged again with the borrowed pin making him look like the young, college aged woman.  And he only shot Rabi the briefest of glances as he walked past him, out the front door, where there was a car waiting.

Rabi grumbled under his breath, but let him go. He'd just head back to the dorm to wait and watch for him to get home safe.

He'd make it back to the dorms without incident, drunk or not, and as he left the car he'd move swiftly across the lawn and up the stairs to his room.

No one jumped out at him, right now; no one trailed along in his wake or attacked him on the way to the dorm. He was safe enough, apparently.

He didn't dawdle or slow down, just kept walking quickly until he reached his door, then unlocked it to let himself in.  And there, safe, he clicked the pen to drop the disguise.

If he expected Rabi to pop in and check on him, he'd be disappointed. Instead he was left to drink water or not, his choice, and deal with the hangover on his own.

He was honestly happier the other man hadn't popped in, and Rabi wouldn't hear from him the next morning.   Or that afternoon.  Or that evening.  Not until it was Rabi calling him.
Roleplaying / Re: Out of the frying pan, into the fire [Rabi/Tucker/Lukas]
« Last post by Beejoux on October 15, 2019, 08:04:42 PM »
A little pause -- maybe a place called Spanky's wasn't exactly Rabi's scene. "Are you asking me to come?"

He thought about that, fingertip tapping against the desk softly.  "A bit, yeah.  But you don't have to."

"If I come, I want to drink." He said it in a matter of fact, way.

"Yeah, I figured."  His desk chair creaked as he sat back in it, taking another drag.

He huffed out another sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. "When?"

"Meeting at ten thirty."  He glanced over at the clock, fingers brushing through his hair.

"Do you need me to walk you and hold your hand?" It was only a tiny bit mocking.

"No."  Defensive, but maybe a little amused.  "Do you think it's a good idea to carry the pin around, though?  Should I leave it here now that the rooms protected?"

Rabi went silent at that, finally: a long moment of silence that despite the difference still sounded chilly. "...it's your decision."

Tucker made a small sound in the middle of all that silence, like he regretted bringing it up at all.  "I can keep it with me, I just don't want anything to happen to it before..."  He trailed off, because what he meant to say stuck in his throat, and he sighed.

"If you take it with you, someone could maybe take it from you, or make you give it up. If you leave it behind, someone could potentially take it from you. So It's all about what you want to do." Just a little beat; he licked his lips. "Or you could give it to me and then you wouldn't have to worry about it at all."

Tucker's turn to be quiet, his free hand pulling the pin from his pocket to smooth his thumb along the jewels at the top.  Mulling over his words carefully.  "And you'll take care of John, and the cops, and make all of it just go away."  It was what he'd said the night before.

"That is the plan." He said it slow, carefully; maybe realizing he was getting through, some.

Tucker chewed at the inside of his cheek between hits, and then snubbed the tail of the joint out.  Thinking about it, obviously.  "Either way, Lukas needs to be paid tonight."

That took any excitement out of him and turned his tone flat. "Make up your mind, then."

Another sigh.  "I'll just bring it.  I'll be there a little before ten thirty."

"I'll hang out at the bar." He hung up on Tucker before he could say anything else. But he would go to the place -- a dive Mexican restaurant and bar that smelled really good.

He opened his mouth to say something, an apology maybe, but Rabi had already hung up.  He'd see him later, though.  Tucker would get there a little before ten thirty.  It looked like he'd taken another shower, because his hair wasn’t sticking all over the place now, and his clothes were considerably tidier from the night before.  With not only the pin but thousands of dollars in cash in his pocket he looked distinctly nervous as he walked in.

Rabi looked like himself, already nursing a gigantic, brightly-colored margarita at the bar, and a pile of chips and guacamole.

Tucker glanced around for Lukas, spotted Rabi at the bar, and headed over to climb up on the stool beside him.

Rabi shot him a look -- and huffed out a little breath, like he was annoyed by the nearness. "No magicians yet?"

A small, audible sigh before he managed to catch himself, and he set his elbow on the bar, chin cradled in his palm.  "Not yet."

Rabi tipped his drink to take a long sip and looked up toward the door, considering that. "You drinking?"

"Yeah."  It'd been a week, he thought he deserved a drink at that point.  "A bit."

That got a sideways look, just a bit sly, a bit amused. "I see. So long as it doesn't cause any bad decisions."

He wrinkled his nose, smiling faintly in a self deprecating way.  "Right."

He took another long gulp and leaned back just a little bit. "Of course, I can make all the bad decisions I'd like."

"Hmm."  It was true, technically.  He didn't bother reminding Rabi that he needed Tucker to trust him enough to hand over the pin at some point.  He knew, probably.

Another long swallow, his attention on the door. "He said ten thirty?"

Tucker turned at the question, looking back at the door as well.  "Yeah."

"Maybe he's running late." He looked back to Tuck then, an eyebrow raised. "what are you drinking?"

"Maybe..."  Chewing on his lip, Tuck checked the time on his phone before glancing at the door again.  "And I'm not sure yet.  I don't drink much.  What do you have?"

"Mango margarita." It came with a flicker of amusement, again. He raised a hand to get the bartender’s attention and order one for Tucker.

He thought about protesting the beverage choice for half a second but let it go.  He didn't really know what he liked, so why not try it.

Rabi got himself another one, while he was at it, downing the first quickly. Of course, he had some money, now. And Lukas would show up when Tucker was about a quarter of the way into his - not from the door but from the kitchen, laughing over his shoulder at someone.

It was good, easy to drink.  Tasted more fruity than boozy and that was sort of dangerous.  He was just starting to feel it in his legs when he saw Lukas pop in from the kitchen and he sat up a little straighter, smiling automatically.

Rabi shifted at the sound, to look over his shoulder -- and snorted a bit, looking back to the margarita. He didn't offer to help out, and Lukas didn't seem to notice Tucker; he was still talking back at someone in the kitchen, his own smile wide and slightly less dangerous.

Tucker wouldn't immediately try to call attention to himself. didn't want to interrupt, and maybe he was also fine with just admiring the view for a long moment as he took a drink of his margarita.  He'd wait until Lukas' attention turned outward, if it did, and lifted a hand to offer a small wave.

He blinked past Tucker blankly for a moment -- and then focused in on him, humming a bit. It took away the easy comfort of his smile, made it a bit sharp and a little less...easy. He approached absently to lean in against the bar, looking down at Tucker's drink and humming a bit.

The mood shift, however subtle it might have been, had the younger man blinking, head tilting as he followed Lukas' gaze down to the half finished margarita sitting on the bar in front of him.  A dark brow arched back at him curiously.  "Hi."

"I don't want to know what you're drinking." He raised a hand for the bartender to get service, and ordered something neat. And a plate of tacos, with a flicker of a smile at the bartender.

"It tastes good," he said with a shrug, using his straw to stir what was left of the drink before sipping at it again.

"It looks like candy." He was smiling still as he said it, though; grabbed a stool and slid up onto it. "What do you have for me?"

"Tastes like candy," he confirmed with a crooked grin.  At the question he resisted glancing back at Rabi, and instead reached for his pocket, only to pause as he lifted his gaze from Lukas to glance around the bar.  "Here?"  He wasn't sure if flashing around that much money was, well, safe.

"Sure." He grinned at Tucker, sharply. "It's fine, I can handle myself."

"Okay."  If Lukas said it was fine...

He pulled a thick fold of bills from his pocket, and started counting them under the counter.  A few were wrinkled, well worn, but the majority were crisp and new.  When he had enough to cover the protections in his room and the half down for the charm he slipped the rest in his pocket, double countered, and then offered them over to Lukas.

11:21 PM
He snorted a bit, shaking his head at Tucker -- and leaning in on the bar to count it in plain view, maybe just to tease. The bartender came over with his drink and food while he was still counting, and he grinned up at the man carelessly. "Some chips, too."

Tuck made a sound, head shaking slightly as he took a drink.  And he'd take that moment to flick a glance up at Rabi.

Rabi met his eyes with a flash of amusement, downing another long swallow of his drink. Somehow, it was mocking. Lukas didn't notice, just turned back to him as he tucked the money away. "At least a week, and itds be easier if I had some hair, but I understand why you might say no to that."

Pale eyes narrowed just a bit before he looked back at Lukas.  "What would having hair do that'd make it easier?"

"Tailor it to you, instead of making it something anyone can pick up and use." His response was easy and casual, but Rabi was watching out of the corner of his eye with a frown.

Tucker frowned thoughtfully, head dipping to take a drink from his straw, and chanced the tiniest glance towards Rabi.  Enough to see the frown on the other man's face.

He shook his head, absently, even as he held up a hand for another drink.

He gave a soft hum, head tipping as he lifted his head from his straw to look back up at Lukas.  "Not customized is fine I think."  He said it with a small smile.

He was a good bite into a taco, and he shrugged at Tucker as he chewed. "Your choice."

He nodded, glancing at the taco before taking a longer drink of the margarita.  Lukas could tease, but it was tasty.  "What will it be when it's done, the charm?"

"What do you want it to be?" He watched Tucker with a flicker of amusement, his gaze steady. "Something on the hands usually works best, I think."

He had to think about that, hadn't expected to get to pick, probably.  "What about something like a bracelet?  Something simple looking?"

"Sure. Or a ring. Or a pair of gloves - though I work better with metal." He swiped at his mouth with a napkin, shrugging easily at Tucker.

"Bracelet or a ring," he compromised with a shrug, the corners of his lips twitching up on one side.  "Something I don't have to think about remembering to put on all the time."

"Simple band, the. Which is good, because I'd charge you extra for a gem." Another smile full of teeth, and then he finished off the taco.

He chuckled, head shaking.  "Simple is great, no gems."  He was pretty sure the team would give him shit for anything ornate.  Assuming he could make it to practice before all this blew over.

Lukas hummed agreement around his taco, swiping sauce from the corner of his mouth. "No allergies?"

"No."  Nothing that would affect that, at least.  He didn't think.

"A week, then." He took a couple long swallow of his drink, still watching Tucker. "I still don't see it."

He blinked, eyes wide and thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth.  "See what?"

"You, with this much money in -- nearly -- sequential bills, ready to drop it on someone going after you." He grinned at Tucker, picking up the second taco.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek before taking a drink, finishing off what was left of the margarita to give himself time to figure out what to say to that.  "I’m not going to give him the opportunity to get me at his mercy."  His shoulders rolled in a small shrug.  "I don't know how stable he is, or how powerful."

"I just can't imagine how anyone would be bothered enough by your existence to waste power on you." It was mean, but it was so -- casually mean that it was almost not even insulting.

Tucker shrugged helplessly, pushing the empty glass away.  "I've always had really shitty luck."

He took a couple bites of his taco, eyes skating past Tucker down the bar -- over Rabi and beyond, his head cocked to the side. "Still. I can't imagine how you ended up here."

Another shrug.  "A long history of attracting bad attention?" He watched him looking down the bar, and licked his lips.  "Didn't you mention something about buying me a drink?"

It made amusement bloom in his expression again, eyebrows raised in question. "Shots?"

That was better.  Tucker smiled back, couldn't really help it.  "Sure."

Next to him, Rabi snorted into his drink, even as Lukas put a hand up to get tequila shots. And lime, of course.

Tuck didn't pay him any mind, attention on Lukas and the shots being placed in front of them.  Hesitating to follow the older man's lead.

He looked aside at Tuck as the drinks were set down, eyes flashing. He picked up his lime wedge. "Have you done this before?"

"Once," he admitted, picking up his own lime.  "There was salt involved."

"Yup." He grabbed the salt, too - licked the back of his hand with a grin at Tuck - and shook salt out onto the wet spot.

A little rise of pink in pale cheeks, but he licked the back of his own hand as well, holding it out for Lukas to shake salt on while he still held the shaker.

Lukas took the shot like a pro: down the hatch, salt and lime, glass raised to Tucker as he swallowed and grinned. It didn't exactly match the classy vibe he usually pushed.

Tucker followed a second after, and it wasn't as smooth.  He hissed softly, chuckling as he pulled a face and set the glass back on the counter.  But he was smiling, straightening up to grab for a napkin so he could wipe the back of his hand.
"Does that qualify as a drink?" He tipped his glass to look down into it, as if there might be something left -- licking the last of the salt from his own hand.

"Does it?"  Baby blues flicked up to watch Lukas lick the rest of the salt from his hand, lingering just a bit.  "You tell me.”

He grinned at Tucker again, scooping up the taco to polish it off and leaning back a bit. "You don't have school tomorrow?"

Tucker shrugged, nudging at the shot glass with his finger.  "I do, but it's kinda hard to get around campus when there's someone looking for you."

"Mmm. You've got the cash to bribe a doctor into saying you've got mono; that should last you a couple weeks," He raised a hand, though; he'd get them one more round of shots.

"I don't think we need doctor's notes.  Just have to email my teachers, let them know."  He wrinkled his nose, thinking about what his couch would say, and teammates.  They already weren't happy he'd missed practice.

"I mean, your other option is to risk it and go to class." He mulled it over a bit, licking salsa from the meat of his thumb. "Or hire a bodyguard, I guess."

"After I get the charm I think it'll be alright."  He sounded hopeful more than sure.  "I don't want to hire a bodyguard."

"I could probably toss you some names, if you did." He clicked their glasses together and then took the shot in that expert way again.

"Well if I change my mind, I know who to call."  He flashed a smile up at him as he salted the back of his hand again and tossed back the shot.  Which was probably not the best idea, because he could really feel the first two drinks at this point.
Roleplaying / Re: Out of the frying pan, into the fire [Rabi/Tucker/Lukas]
« Last post by Beejoux on October 15, 2019, 07:08:54 PM »
"No."  It was firm, the most definitive statement he'd made so far.  "Thank you, but no.  I don't want a weapon in here that I don't know how to handle safely."

"Fair enough." He could respect that for sure. He shrugged just a tiny bit, crossing to the bathroom to dump out the bowl.

"I will be picking up some mace though."  Effective, not deadly.  He sank down on the edge of the bed again as he checked to see if his finger was still bleeding, then pressed the tissue to it again.

"Uh huh." He rinsed off his hands, too, combed back his hair, and came out looking fresh -- if just a bit tired. "You said end of the day?"

"Yeah, I need to get it together."  Dark brows creased thoughtfully.  "You said two grand for the room, right?  And either five hundred, or fifteen hundred for protective charms?"

"Uh huh." It was not bad for an hourish of work -- but also, he had the market cornered in his way. Lukas shrugged, swiping the bowl  dry to tuck it away. "Call me soon."

"I will."  He wanted to ask Rabi about charms first, to see if he thought they'd even be useful.  Tuck stood, palms pressing together before lowering to his sides as he followed Lukas towards the door.  "Thank you."

Lukas snorted at that, shooting a look back at Tucker. "You are green, aren't you?"

He blinked, frowning faintly.  "It's that obvious?"

"This was a business deal, but I'll give you free advice." He paused in the hall, head cocked. "Don't say thank you."

Tucker leaned against the door frame, hand resting just below the mark they'd just applied to it.  "Right."

Lukas paused to lean against the doorframe on the other side, still very close. "Take my word for it."

Too close.  Pale eyes lingered on his chest before rising up to his face.  "I do appreciate it."

He grinned down at Tucker again, all teeth, and bumped two fingers under his chin. "You're going to end up in some trouble, I dare say."

That was all it took for him to go pink again, and he swallowed.  "I dare say I'm already in trouble."

That widened his grin and Lukas straightened, all at once, rolling his shoulders and swinging the bag up. "Good luck."

It left him flustered and staring, and he felt the warmth of those strong fingers under his chin even after Lukas had pulled them away.  "Yeah..."

He was laughing again as he turned to go, with one hand raised in an absent goodbye. "Call me soon. I don't want to have to come back."

Tuck didn't even realize he'd lifted a hand to wave back, fingers curling in a distracted way.  "I will."

He was gone in just a moment -- and as soon as he was, Rabi showed up at the door, frowning up at the marks and shifting the bag on his shoulder. "Interesting. Not bad."

Tucker had lingered in the doorway, gaze flicking briefly to Rabi as he returned but stayed on Lukas until he'd turned the corner and was out of sight.  Then he turned looking back at the other man like maybe he hadn't heard him.  "Hmm?"  Focus returned in stages, starting with Tuck following Rabi's line of sight to the marks.  "Oh.  Yeah?  You think they'll be enough?"

He hesitated just a tiny bit, fingers sliding up the strap of the bag. "...yeah. Kept me from popping in, so not terrible."

That made him frown faintly, a hand reaching out to touch the dark spot of his own blood.  "I wasn't trying to keep you out, I didn't know it'd do that."  Was it supposed to do that?  "But if it keeps John from being able to force his way in again."  He checked his finger again as he crossed back over to the bed to sit on the edge of it.

Rabi lingered in the doorway instead of coming in, brushing a hand up the back of his neck, slowly. "I think it'll keep him out. Anything that can keep me from zapping in...."

The frown grew more pronounced as Rabi lingered in the hall instead of coming in, pale eyes watching the climb of his hand up the back of his neck.  "Can you...is it keeping you out?"

He blinked, looking back to Tucker, weighing his answer. "It'd take away the glamour, I think. Not sure how I feel about that right now."

"You've been here without it before."  He was watching him now, no longer distracted.  "And I'd rather not talk to you about this stuff with the door open for everyone passing in the hall to hear."

He huffed out just a little breath, chewing that over. "He did a good job. It's a good thing."

There was a wariness in the way he was watching Rabi that hadn't been there for the last few days, expression thoughtful, lips twisted on one side as he chewed at the inside of his cheek.

He raised both eyebrows as he looked back to Tucker, fingers lingering on his bag. "What?"

Brows pinched, slightly, and then smoothed as he shook his head.  "Your not just wearing student glamor," he answered, huffing softly.  "I forgot."  He sounded tired.  "You could cross, if you wanted to, right?"

"If I really had to, I could." He shifted, shrugging at Tucker uncomfortably. "I'm not going to, though."

"No, that's fine."  He'd thought the protections were keeping Rabi out, which would have complicated things for a number of reasons, least of all logistics.  But since Rabi was staying in the hall Tucker got up again to move closer so he could keep his voice low.  He looked up and down the hall as he settled against the doorframe.  "Two thousand for the room," he said unprompted.  "And he mentioned something about charms, I didn't know if they'd help or be worth it, so I told him I needed time to get the money together, so I could talk to you first."

"What kind of charms?" He shrugged the tiniest bit at Tucker, shifting to root around in the bag; counting out bills.

Half turning, he leaned back against the wall.  "He said he had a one time use one that emits...smoke?  I think.  For five hundred, and a reusable one for fifteen hundred."

"Like  a signal flare? Seems like you'd maybe be better off with an actual signal flare." Rabi shrugged, tapping fingers against his arm.

He shrugged, tipping his head back.  "I don't know, I should have asked him to elaborate on it a bit more, but I thought maybe you'd know something I didn't.  I could ask when I call him back."

Rabi dropped his chin and thought it over more thoroughly, staring down toward his feet. Eventually, he looked up again -- "If he can give you something that makes you physically strong, that might be worth it. People who rely on magic are often susceptible to a surprise physical attack."

He waited, and then perked up a bit at the suggestion.  "He really didn't like when I slammed my heel into the top of his foot."

"It's not like they're...extra susceptible, just...." He straightened away from the doorframe. "They don't expect it as often."

"I'll ask."  His hands slid into his pockets.  "What else can he do, John?  I could have gotten away from him without help but he did something, made it so I could lift my feet."

"Magic." Rabi shrugged just the tiniest bit, uncomfortably -- and held the money out toward Tucker. "A lot of it."

"Oh fun," he said sarcastically, tiredly.  "Well at least he can't get in here, now.  And I've got the pen."  He took the offered money, folded it together with what he already had.

"I can't be much more helpful than that, he's a magician, it's just..." He hesitated, spreading his hand. "He can do anything he's learned how to do. I got him a lot of books."

"You're helping a lot," he offered sincerely, waving the wade of bills.  "I'm just...tired, I guess."

"So I’ll go back to my office, and you can sleep." He shrugged, sideways, and nodded to the money. "He coming back for that?"

"I think so.  I have to call him later."  He tucked the money back into his pocket.  "Do you want me to let you know later if I get a charm?"

"Or if you want me to play backup, though he seemed alright." Not so dangerous as Beau had made him out to be. "You can always call"

Yeah, he actually seemed really nice.  Didn't cut me much of a deal, but was friendly."  And hot.  He reached up, rubbing the back of his hand under his chin, like he still felt the fingers there.

"He didn't rip you off on the work, if nothing else." He shrugged the bag higher and squinted at Tucker. "Just be careful."

"That's good.  When I touched the marks he painted I could feel there was something to them, but it's not like I know what I'm feeling."  He shrugged.  "I can walk you back down," he offered, turning to lean his shoulder on the wall.

"I'm not walking." He raised a hand in a wave, then, and disappeared from Tucker's door frame, with just a faint scent of smoke.

Tucker rolled his eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips as he closed the door.

He'd call Lukas back before eight.  He could have called sooner, but he'd wanted the chance to unwind a bit.  To just be in his own space again and know that no one was going to come barging in.  A lit joint was clasped between his fingers as he listened to the ringtone through his phone.

Lukas picked up, his tone warm; the number familiar now, perhaps. "Well well. Ready?"

It really wasn't fair how hot he was.  Even his voice.  It made Tucker pause, very briefly, before answering.  "Yeah.  Well, I had a question first about charms."

“Sure." Something creaked; his chair, maybe, leaning back where he sat. Amused.

"The ones you mentioned, with the smoke, are those the only ones you have, or could you do one that could make someone stronger, or faster?"  There was a soft tapping, his fingers against the desk probably, and then a soft inhale as he took a hit.

He had to pause over that, chew it over slowly while he considered. "What did you want?"

"Strength, I think.  He didn't handle it well when I smashed my heel into his foot, and I'm not that strong."  A little cough, half muffled behind his own arm.  "So, that amplified, seems maybe more effective than smoke."  There was a small pause.  "Was it just smoke?  Like a distress signal sort of deal, or..?"

"Make people cough, burn a little, but it's smoke." He frowned a little bit. "You want to be stronger? That's it?"

Not just smoke, but he wasn't sure if that would be that effective against someone used to dealing with Rabi.  "Yeah, I mean for now?  I'm assuming I could come to you again if I needed something else.  Assuming I had the money, of course."

"Harder, though." He said it more seriously, now, without that edge of flirting. "It'd probably take me a good week."

"If I have to wait that's fine."  Though he had to wonder if things were still going to be as chaotic in a week, as they were now.  "Would it still be fifteen?  I have the cash to pay that upfront."

"Twenty two." He said it unhesitatingly.

"I don't have that on hand, so I'd need time to get the rest."  He lay his hand on the stack of bills resting on his desk.  More money than he'd ever physically been in possession of.  And he was just handing it over.

"Shit, I should have asked for twenty five." Lukas was for sure laughing at him again, even if the sound only crinkled his voice a bit.

"Should have," he countered easily, amused, a little warm.  "Too late now."

"Next time." Cheerful, though -- he wasn't too worried. "Now that I know you're not a broke college student. I want half up front, though."

It made him pause, frowning as he flicked his thumb along the corner of the bills.  "It's not my money."  Too much banter, he'd talked himself into a corner.  "But I can do half upfront."

"Can you leave your little haven there, now? I'm headed out a bit later, but not to your neighborhood." He paused to check the time as he said it.

"Um, well..."  He glanced over at the pen sitting on the bed and then back.  "Maybe.  Where are you headed to?"

"Waterfront." He said it immediately, which probably meant he wasn't just fucking around. "There's a dive bar called Spanky's."

"I think I can manage that."  He didn't sound exactly eager about it.  Nervous, more like.

"I'll buy you a drink." Definitely laughter behind that. "Ten thirty."

Suddenly seemed a little more worth the risk.  "Well, if you're buying."  He took another hit.  "I'll see you there."

"Try not to get murdered by magicians along the way." He hung up on Tucker to go about whatever business it was he had.

Lukas wouldn't hear the humorless laugh that followed.

He'd call Rabi after changing into a nicer pair of jeans and dark plaid button down over a plain t-shirt.

Rabi answered with just a little huff of breath. "Problem already?"

"Not exactly."  It was a touch defensive.  "He can do a strength charm, but it'll take like a week to make."  His joint had gone out, he relit it with the harsh snick of a lighter before taking a drag.  "And he isn't coming here to get the money, he wants me to meet him at a bar."

Another little breath out. "If you're comfortable with that. Where?"

"A place called Spanky's, I've never heard of it, but it's a public place so it should be okay?"  But he obviously wasn't sure, or it wouldn't have been a question.  "Do you want to come too?"
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