Aerin Thomas: He drives his way up the driveway to the farmhouse, taking in a breath as the tires slow on the gravel. He sighs it out, pulling to a complete stop, and kills the engine. The man's dressed much as he was when he left...white T-Shirt, jeans, Docs, and the new trench. Hair is pulled back for eas of driving...he keeps the window rolled down on the way up for the smoke, and nothings more anooying when you're trying to drive then long hair whipping into your face.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He glances at Aerin. "You okay? I coulda stayed home you know...If this is weird or something," he says, words rushing together.

Aerin Thomas: "No...I'll be fine." He flashes Ethan a little smile, nodding a bit. "It is a little wierd, yes. And I am nervous. But it doesn't mean that it should be avoided."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "If it makes you feel any better I'm nervous too. Ita could so take me," he mumbles, reaching out to quickly squeeze Aerin's hand.

Aerin Thomas: "You'd be surprised," he murmurs with faint amusement overlaying the nerves. "One of these days, I'll tell you how she stabbed herself in the leg with a nife aimed at something else." He squeezes the hand back, and moves to exit the car.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He exhales slowly, tongue flicking over his lips and slides out of the car. He pauses a moment to tighten his ponytail and straighten his polo shirt, making sure its tucked neatly into the kahki pants.

Aerin Thomas: The car door shuts and he looks to Ethan, before making the slow walk to the front door. His eyes flick around, looking for signs of life on the outside...Bliss is around somewhere, he knows. He trusts in the man...paranoia, though, keeps him looking. Always looking for the next attack. He gets to the front door and unlocks it, pulling it open for Ethan.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Ethan hovers by the car another long minute and then shakes himself hard from head to foot before moving to the house. Hovering about outside is only delaying the inevitable and making himself even more nervous. He takes the steps two at a time and slips carefully past Aerin.

Aerin Thomas: The house is quiet and empty upon first entry...the only sound being that of the dogs approaching, Brutis wary and eyes narrowed dangerous, Clay looking for someone to maul with love. Aerin moves in after Ethan, a brief word directed to the animals to get them to behave. They head straight for Ethan.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Hey boys," he says softly, crouching to give both of them thorough scritchings and love, using them as a distraction to take his mind off of things, though his eyes rise to rest on Aerin.

Aerin Thomas: He smiles a little to the two dogs...Frey and Freya are certainly around here somewhere, though not immediately within sight. Aerin shuts the door to the house and makes his way in, moving toward the couch. "Joe could have always taken Ita up to Albany for the day," he says with a slight frown, looking around. Always tense when he comes back to a house this quiet.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Oh." He pauses. "What's in Albany?" He stands, giving Clay a gentle push so he can move and blithely ignoring Brutis' slight growl.

Aerin Thomas: "Anything that's not here," he says with a chuckle. "Ita gets stir-crazy here at the house from time to time."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Ah." He chuckles and then just starts giggling almost helplessly.

Aerin Thomas: He looks at Ethan with a confused sort of frown, brow raising. "What?"

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "I was so scared! For nothing! No one's here!"

Aerin Thomas: He grins a little at that, chuckling, and shrugs. "Yeah, well, they've got to come home sometime, you know?"

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Oh." He sags a bit. "True." Ethan glances around and runs his hand through the trailing end of his ponytail. "In case I don't get to say it later. Love you."

Aerin Thomas: "Love you, too. Something to drink?" He shrugs, smiling a little.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Whiskey," he says hopefully before laughing. "Water."

Aerin Thomas: "I actually have some scotch," he says with a smirk. "That's what I was going for." He makes his way into the kitchen. "Last chance before you get the non-alcoholic."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "No. Seriously. Water. I wanna be able to run like hell if I need to," he says, not entirely joking. Shaking himself he heads to the couch and sits down.

Aerin Thomas: "All right." How the hell was he talked into this, anyway? He shakes his head and gets Ehtan's water, then changes his mind on his drink, going for the less quick drunkenness of a Corona. No Lime. He comes out of the kitchen, handing Ethan the water.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He takes the water with a sigh and glances briefly at Aerin's face. "We can always not say anything. I can catch a cab...Go home."

Aerin Thomas: "No...yes...maybe. No." Well, THAT certainly cleared things up. He drops heavily onto the couch, sighing. "Whether we say anything or not is one thing. But you don't have to leave. I want you here."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Ethan bounces slightly as Ethan plops down. He licks his lips, takes a long drink of the water and then licks his lips again. "And we're not all sorts of awkward and obvious or anything," he mutters.

Aerin Thomas: "No, not at ALL." He smirks a little. "But I'm always wierd. And you're always nervous. So...you know. Maybe it'll look natural."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "It wasn't this weird when we were..." He snorts and gestures towards the stairs, smiling slightly.

Aerin Thomas: "Yeah, well." He shrugs. "That was...I don't know." He shrugs, leaning back with the beer and falling quiet for a moment, staring at the coffee table.

Joe Vellim: *Sound of a car in the driveway. A very grumpy, bad tempered car.*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "That was you helping me ride the high," he says softly, standing to pace slowly around the room, touching things here and there.

Aerin Thomas: d10: Per+Alert: 9,7,9,5,10,2,

Aerin Thomas: Car. He's on his feet, hand shooting into his trench, bringing out the gun. Standard Operating Procedure these days. "Ethan, away from the door and windows, just in case." He moves his way to the front window, easing to the side, to see who's there.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He nods and moves to stand against a wall, away from doors and windows, his eyes on Aerin, the water half-forgotten in his hand.

Joe Vellim: *The sound of dogs baying in giddy triumph as they find a human smaller than them to mess with. Wordless blaring for a moment before Joe's unmistakeable shouting batters against the windows of the house.* 'EEEEEEEEEY! KNOGGIT AAAAAAAUF!

Joe Vellim: Bastahds! Bahstahds da boff uh yas!

Joe Vellim: Dat AINT feh YEW!

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Ethan goes a little pale under his tan and glances to Aerin. "Joe," he asks, licking his lips.

Aerin Thomas: He nods a little to Ethan, putting the gun away. Shooting Joe wouldn't solve their problem. He relaxes and moves to the front door to get it for him, gesturring to Ethan to have a seat and relax.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Relax. Right. He nods jerkily and moves back to the couch, settling in one corner, legs folding in half lotus beneath him so he can craddle the water glass there.

Aerin Thomas: The front door opens up for Joe, and he smiles to the man. "Hey."

Joe Vellim: *Apparently he manages to extract himself from the dogs- while curses are still tossed over his shoulder, he makes it to the door with a great deal of clatter.*

Joe Vellim: *The bullish irishman spins around, smiling at Aerin proudly. He seems essentially the same old Joe, with the notable addition of another duffel bag, and a very big, long double barreled shotgun slung over one shoulder at parade arms.... wait.. shotgun?*

Joe Vellim: Hey deah Aerin- howahya?

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Oh shit," Ethan murmurs noting the barrel of the gun over Aerin's shoulder, his blue eyes going wide.

Aerin Thomas: The shotgun draws a blink from him. Very fucking funny. Trevor was right...the chaya ARE laughing at us. He smiles to him. "Ennh...you know. Just one of those days. Nice shotgun."

Joe Vellim: Aint it? *He offers it to Aerin happily before picking up the duffel again. Roughly as perceptive as a brick at the moment, Joe doesn't seem to realize he should probably wait to be invited in, until it hits him.* Ey uh... mind if I... *he gestures to the door.*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Biting his lip, Ethan stands and heads towards the kitchen. "Water just isn't going to cut it," he mutters, shaking his head until his ponytail bounces.

Aerin Thomas: He takes the shotgun from him, looking it over. "No, no. Come on in." He steps back into the house and to the side for the shorter man to come in. "Joe, you know Ethan?"

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Hi," the petite blond says, freezing in his tracks to turn and face the door. He relaxes rather quickly, seeing that Aerin has the gun.

Joe Vellim: *The shotgun is clean, well kept, though clearly not new- though Joe handles it as though it were certainly new to him. The serial number is filed off, and the thing is about as concealable as a medium sized office building. Two hammers control the chambers, and its a break action. Roughly three and a half feet long, all told. He nods in the direction Ethan went, then does a double take as he realizes no one is there.* Eth'n? Uhh... don't tink so, no..

Joe Vellim: *Joe smiles brightly and waves as the young man comes into view.* Ey deah. M' Joe- nice ta meetcha!

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "You t-t...to," he manages after a moment of rather pathetic stuttering. He swallows, takes a big gulp of the water and moves back into the living room. Water it is.

Aerin Thomas: Oooh, illegal arms in the house! Wouldn't be the first one, though. He looks it over, opening it up, doing the general check over and nodding. Especially checking to see if it's loaded. "Very nice, Joe...very nice indeed." He looks up to introduce. "Ethan Anderson...Joe Vellim. Joe...Ethan."

Joe Vellim: *He nods over his shoulder to Aerin with a chuckle, moving into the living room to set his duffel bag down with a noticeable ~clank~.* Ey Eth'n- yew Aerin's buddy, uh Eedas? uh boff? *He moves immediately toward the kitchen, all bustle- and emerges with the trashcan in one hand.*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He glances at Aerin for a second and then back to Joe. "Mostly Aerin's I guess. I m-m-mean, I know Ita but..." He shrugs.

Aerin Thomas: "Ethan's an old frine of mine...met Ita through me," he says, shutting the shotgun and setting it aside. "He lived up here for a short while...he's back in the city, now."

Joe Vellim: *He nods to Ethan again, rather distracted.* Yah, don' blame ya. Th' sticks is awright, don' getme wroang.. but it'll makeya crazy- lookit him! *He hooks a thumb toward Aerin, good natured as he smiles and moves back to the man, apparently to retrieve the shotgun.*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Ethan glances at Aerin and smiles slightly, biting at his bottom lip to swallow the chuckle. "Sticks?"

Joe Vellim: Yah- yew know- da boonies- th' country.

Aerin Thomas: He picks the shotgun back up and hands it to Joe. "Hey, hey. I'm only insane a measly 22 hours and 45 minutes out of the day. The rest, I'm asleep. Sometimes." He grins.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Oh." He chuckles. "I thought you were c-c...Calling Aerin sticks."

Joe Vellim: *He looks to Ethan again as he continues to stutter.. a moment as he considers the two of them..*

Joe Vellim: d10: percep: 7,8,2,

Aerin Thomas: He smiles a little to Ethan and gives Joe a bit of a smile, as if the stuttering was completely normal. It is, in certain circumstances. "Can I get you something, Joe? Water, coffee, tea, soda, whatever?"

Joe Vellim: Nope. *He takes the gun, chuckling at what Aerin has to say. Rather jolly as he moves to sit on the couch, shotgun across his lap- he drags a hacksaw out of his duffel bag before beginning to work on the stock of the clunky thing, holding the crevice over the trashcan.* Sa.. whadaya guys doin'?

Aerin Thomas: d10: Man+Subt: 8,4,4,9,2,6,8,

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He sighs and reaches back to draw his ponytail over his shoulder, toying with the end of it. "C-can I get more wat-t-ter please, Aerin?"

Joe Vellim: Nah- *He waves one hand affably as he gestures toward the bag.* Gaht me soma dem fekkin sodys.. figgah ah'm set, thanks.

Aerin Thomas: "Nothing much." He shrugs. "Thought I'd give Ethan a chance to get away from the city for a day, you know? Just sort of relax away from the grind." He nods to Ethan and takes the glass, moving to get more water for the young man.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Th-thanks." He glances after Aerin with a slight smile before moving to curl in a chair. "Gives me a ch-chance to look at the horses too. Update th-there shots."

Joe Vellim: Ah yeah? Yew a vet uh summat? *He continues to saw away at the stock of the gun.*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He watches the sawing of the gun with an almost horrid fascination, falling silent for a long moment. "Uh. No. Actually. I'm prev-vet. I was a vet tech not too long ago."

Joe Vellim: Dat's neat. Sounds like fun. *Hack hack hack.. the broad irishman's thick muscles make swift work of the stock, what remains is a rough pistol grip.*

Aerin Thomas: He comes back with the water, handing it over to Ethan and then taking a seat on the couch next to Joe. "Getting ready, I see?" He gives Joe a smile.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Thanks babe," he says almost absently, flashing Aerin a warm smile. "Getting r-ready for what?"

Joe Vellim: *Hack hack hack-* .... *Joe's attention flicks to Ethan for a second- then he resumes his sawing on the barrel- apparently intending to cut the barrel down to about a foot.* Yep- figgah dis'll mebbe even th' scoah... *He blinks at Ethan before responding.*boyd huntin'!

Aerin Thomas: He keeps his face totally relaxed at the 'babe,' and looks to Ethan. "We're going...bird hunting."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He blinks slowly at Joe and then turns his attention to Aerin. "Bird hunting? W-with a sawed off? Or hunting s-something else?"

Joe Vellim: *He continues to saw, but Joe offers Ethan a sliiiightly warning eye.* We said boyd huntin', kid. Huntin' boyds. Gaht it? *He watches Ethan for a second before continuing the sawing- the cagey, momentary glare gone as swiftly as it came, Joe's gregariousness reasserts itself.*

Aerin Thomas: Great. Ask the man who's never hunted wild game in his life to clarify. Think quick, think quick... "Well...turkey hunting, more specifically." You can hunt turkey with a sawed-off shotgun...right? He smiles to Ethan, raising an eyebrow, as if to say 'Just go with it.' Hoping Joe's attention's on the barrel at that moment.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He pales slightly and nods, standing, water in hand, to head for the kitchen. "Ah huh. B-b-bir-r-r..."He swallows. "Bird. Hunting."

Joe Vellim: *He smiles and nods at Ethan, before looking up at Aerin once the young man is in the kitchen.* Sweet kid.

Aerin Thomas: d10: Per+Empathy: 6,2,2,1,8,1,2,

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : ((The dice just know you really don't wanna know what Joe's feelin))

Aerin Thomas: He looks at Joe and...gets nothing. So he nods, smiling warmly. "Yeah...he's a really good guy. Shy, but a great heart and a good, strong spirit."

Aerin Thomas: ((No. No, they don't. It's cause I uber-Emped Ita the other day.))

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Ethan sets his water glass on the counter and leans back against it a moment, fingers knotting and smoothing the end of his ponytail. Exhaling slowly, he moves to the fridge, grabs a Corona and pops the top, taking a long, hard swallow before moving back towards the livingroom.

Joe Vellim: *He nods, face kind... he leans toward Aerin slightly before he speaks in a quiet whisper.* pretty shuwah ee's a sissy dough.. case yew dint figgah, yah? *He nods, having shared his massive insight with Aerin, and continues to work on the shotgun.*

Joe Vellim: ((Yep.. get thirty seven successes on the empathy tank herself, and the roller has to cut you off for a couple of days to recover.))

Aerin Thomas: Don't laugh, don't get annoyed, don't get angry. Just take it all with aplomb. He nods to Joe, as if to say 'I know,' and just leans back, sighing. "So, how's your weekend been since I took off Friday, Joe?" Hey, SOMEONE'S gotta keep the conversation going...

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "I m-miss anything," he asks, moving towards the chair, his eyes on the Corona. Lovely slim bottle...He takes a long pull, eyes closing. Don't look at Aerin...Don't look at Joe. And don't, especially, look at the gun.

Joe Vellim: *He shrugs a bit, considering before he continues to speak.* eh, yannow.. tryin ta keep it tageddah.. been sobah. *He shrugs again, not looking up.* It kinna sucks- now its... like ah gaht moah shit ta do.

Aerin Thomas: "No, you didn't mis anything, Ethan." He looks at Joe and chuckles a little bit. "Welcome to my world. No rest for the wicked, like I said before."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He coughs as he sits down, managing not to backwash into the bottle. He folds his legs into a half lotus on the chair and settles his bottle between them.

Joe Vellim: Yah... *He takes a deep breath, and pops another peppermint into his mouth before digging out a can of cola from the bag.* Dis rate... gahhna hafta switch ta caffee. *Bright eyes turn to Ethan.* Sa, yew woyk inna city?

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "Looking r-right now for a job. Aerin's l-l-letting me use his old place." He glances at Joe and shrugs before flashing Aerin a smile. "Kinda r-ran into some trouble with my l-last boyfriend - lost my j-job."

Joe Vellim: *The thick irishman doesn't have to switch hands, take a break- doesn't in fact, seem to grow tired at all hacking at the thick steel of the shotgun's barrel. His arm slides back and forth in the same smooth, swift rhythm.. apparently having no trouble.*

Joe Vellim: Ya don't say? *He glances at Aerin, a glimmer of sagacious triumph in his eyes before he looks back to Ethan.* Gahnna keep lookin ta woyk on animals? Wheahabahts ya live inna city? Mebbe ah know a place uh summat.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He licks his lips and takes a drink before turning the bottle thoughtfully in his hands. "I'm actually th-thin...thinking about applying at a c-club in the city. C-called Wylde Nights."

Joe Vellim: *He raises his eyebrows, nodding.* Aint hoyd of it- wheahs it at? If its downtown ah kin prahbly hook ya up widda bounceah uh summat. *ahems* yew know, feh a refrence?

Aerin Thomas: He smiles a little to Joe. Obviously, Ita did NOT tell Joe about him and Micah as he had thought. His eyes pass over to Ethan at mention of Wyld Nights a moment.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "I-its a gentlemen's club. Kinda." His brow furrows slightly. "B-but even just waiting t-tables would give me money so I wa-wasn't living off Aerin."

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He meets Aerin's eyes for a moment, smiles...sticks out his tongue before turning his attention back to Joe.

Aerin Thomas: "It's cool, Joe." He smiles to the man. "I know a few people there...I'm putting in a good word for him."

Aerin Thomas: And if you could hear the inside of Aerin's mind, it would sound something the equivalet to a skull making contact with the hard formica of a desktop when Ethan sticks his tongue out at the Gaian.

Joe Vellim: *Meanwhile, the ever- observant Joe continues sawing merrily away...* Ah good. *He nods to Aerin.*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "So, J-joe...what do you do," he asks before taking a sip of the Corona, relaxing slowly to the sound of sawing.

Joe Vellim: *The barrel finally gives way with a harsh ~ping~ and falls into the wastebasket. Joe takes a drink of the cola and hefts the length for a moment, frowning in thought.*

Joe Vellim: Private investigatah. *He nods to Ethan, before pulling a card out of his pocket.* Vellim Investigatin'. Yew have any trahble wit ya ex, lemme know- ah kin teach 'im sum mannah's, yah? Oah get pitchas, whatevah. *He extends the slightly worn card to Ethan before setting the barrel aside.*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He takes the card and bites his lips to keep from grinning. The man was as observant as a bump on a log. "Th-thanks."

Aerin Thomas: He looks like he's almost considering something in Joe's offer to Ethan, before she shakes it off.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : "I th-think its best to leave the big black man in whatever dank, dark basement he found to hide in..."

Joe Vellim: d10: percep (reflexive): 4,4,10,

Joe Vellim: *He cocks an eyebrow at Ethan as the little guy bites his lip.* Wha... sumptin' ah said?

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Caught. His eyes go wide as he jerks them back to Joe's face. He flushes slightly, clearly floundering. Lying has never been his strong suit. "I gotta pee."

Joe Vellim: *He nods, not missing a beat.* Dat's right, yew. Don' wahrry- its New Yahk! Ye'll find sumbahdy else. Can't verry well trow a rock widdout hittin... *he trails off.* Yah. mebbe ah'll jes' leave dat one wheah it is.. *He rubs his head briefly, coloring a bit before he pulls a file out of the bag and begins to grind the burr out from around the new, shorter barrel.*

Aerin Thomas: He looks to Ethan, and then back to Joe. Okay...he can't be this imperceptive. He watches the man a little bit. ((Tryin' this again!))

Aerin Thomas: d10: Per+Empathy (WP): 6,4,4,10,7,6,3,

Aerin Thomas: d10: Specialty: 7,

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He glances helplessly at Aerin and then looks at Joe himself.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : d10: per emp: 9,8,3,2,2,3,

Joe Vellim -> Aerin Thomas: Joe isn't at all himself. Aerin finds him tossing off the very first thing on his mind, and trying to concentrate only on one thing at a time. symptoms of a nervous breakdown. Joe really, really needs something. To feed a couple of addictions, but he can't. At the moment he's really quite manic, undergoing the trailing edges of alcohol and morphine withdrawal at the same time. Joe knows absolutely nothing but that he badly needs a fix.

Joe Vellim: *whistle while you work... dooby do- do- do- do, dooo...*

Joe Vellim: *And try not to bite your tongue..*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He taps his fingers lightly against the bottle, knee bouncing. Hm. Maybe he really does have to pee...

Aerin Thomas: He purses his lips a moment, a deep, deep empathy in his eyes for Joe for a shade of a moment. It's gone quickly, not wanting to reveal what he's learned, and he relaxes, looking over to Ethan and shrugging slightly.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He smiles a bit and finishes off his corona before standing. He moves to the couch and squeezes Aerin's shoulder lightly. "I'm gonna go w-work the horses, hon. You t-two have fun with the gun." He blinks and smiles, pecking Aerin's cheek.

Aerin Thomas: He blinks at the peck, but just smiles to him. Overaffectionate gay man checkin' the horses. He sighs and nods to Ethan. "All right. Say hi to them for me." A chuckle.

Joe Vellim: *He looks up, a bare smile on his face as Ethan takes his leave. But he freezes.. the young man's words, the kiss... he stares in blank amazement. Mure, and quite suprised.*

Joe Vellim: *He raises one hand, an empty sort of wave- or perhaps prepared to stop Ethan from giving him a wet peck too.* Nice ta.... meet... cha..

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : Ethan blinks slowly at Joe as the man begins to stare, fingers of his free hand twisting in the ends of his ponytail. "W-w-wh-what?"

Aerin Thomas: Oh. Lovely. No, Joe, he's just an overaffectionate gay man! Overaffectionate gay man checkin' the horses, dammit! He looks between Joe and Ethan, as if confused as to why there would be a problem here.

Aerin Thomas: d10: Man+Subt: 4,2,9,2,4,9,7,

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : d10: man: 9,1,

Joe Vellim: *Bright eyes swivel through the room before Joe's face reddens a touch, and he goes back to filing the gun... the noyve uh sum people... be all kindsa gay all yew wanna.. don' mean ya gahtta go around kissin' regulah folk!* nuttin...

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : He frowns slightly. "Nice blush," he says, voice a touch stiff as he heads for the kitchen.

Aerin Thomas: He relaxes as inwardly as he looks outwardly, and he looks to Ethan, smiling a bit, as if to say 'It's okay.' A glance over to Joe. "Looks like you've fixed guns up before, eh?"

Joe Vellim: Nah, jes once, when ah was a bit youngah... lots stupidah. Don' guess ah lost th' knack dough. *He chuckles a bit, before cocking a slightly humerous eye at Ethan. Looks like dem claws is comin' out!*

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : The kin raids the fridge for apples and carrots and then heads out the back door to the paddock, closing it very softly behind him. No sense it letting the neanderthall see just how ruffled his feathers are, after all.

Ethan Anderson (Sunday Morning) : ((And I must head to bed. I'm head bobbing!))

Aerin Thomas: "Guess not." He nods, noting the closing of the back door. "I didn't get into guns until last year. Now, I've only got a couple. Looking to expand at some point, though."

Aerin Thomas: ((*Hugs the AK*))

Joe Vellim: 'Ey- den yew really wan' ona dese. Nevah jam, simple as fuck ta use... use boff barrels den jes' beat th' fuck outta guy widdit.

Aerin Thomas: He nods a little bit. "Range is a problem, though, isn't it?"

Joe Vellim: 'course... aint nevah acshully done dat ta nahbahdy... *He looks at the short, menacing weapon and scratches his head.* Cops usta hatem.. back inna seventies people was usin' steel pellets- stead o' lead? Cause dey'd punch right tru a vest up close. *He looks at Aerin, nodding.*

Joe Vellim: Yah- a big one. But its jus' da ting if ya naht sagood wit guns, yannow? Less chance uh hittin bystandahs.. old ladies buyin' groceries dat jes' happ'n ta be behind some mook. Buuuuut- da guy yeh pointin' it at? Nevah miss 'em. Ya can't.

Joe Vellim: Also, shotguns is untraceable. Dat... whatsit.. rifflin' on th' insida barrels o' handguns? dese don't have dat.

Joe Vellim: *He speaks in a strange, rapid fire... every measure of knowledge about the guns spilling from him as soon as it comes into his head... almost as though he were talking to himself.*

Aerin Thomas: "Point..." He nods, and grins a bit. "Although when I said I hadn't been doing guns for long, I should have also said I'm a fast learner. I've gotten a lot of practice in action, you could say."

Aerin Thomas: "When I pointed it at Nes, you mean and threatened her with it?"

Joe Vellim: Wha? oh.. yeah. *He nods briefly, running a thumb along the burr of the barrel.* Knew whadda do, huh?

Aerin Thomas: "Yeah, I did." He nods. "Joe...I'll be honest with you. I hate guns. Hate them with a passion. I think they're generally the worst man-made inventions in existance, with the sole exception of bombs. I hate violence in general. Thus, when I pull a gun, which is more more then I'd like, but much less then I could, I only pull it because I have full intent to use it. With Nes, yes, I knew what to do. And honestly, if I ever see her again, I'm going to end her life. She's a threat to humanity, and she's proven the willingness and capacity to take life. This doesn't mean I enjoy that I'm doing it. Just that I'll do what I have to, you know?" He looks up, green eyes holding a grim sort of solemnity to them. "I find that, as much as a conscience gets in the way of my sleeping at night, remembering the things that weigh on it, it's far more beneficial to humanity as a whole. Keeps me on the level."

Joe Vellim: *He nods slowly, listening to Aerin as he speaks, eyes swiveling back and forth on the weapon.. finally he pulls out a pad of sandpaper, and starts to smooth the sharp edges of the pistol grip stock.* Sa... *he stops, then starts again.* Da y' know how loang dese vampiahs is gahnna be aftah Eeda?

Aerin Thomas: He gives a heavy sigh. "Until we can convince them not to be. There's a plan in the works."

Joe Vellim: ((dude, I'm sorry. I keep getting interrupted.))

Aerin Thomas: ((Don't stress it, man. TOTALLY cool.))

Joe Vellim: Yah? Dew tell.. *He switches to the other side of the sawed off stock as he listens.* Ah mean.. sorta sounded like forevah deah feh a while.

Aerin Thomas: He purses his lips, quiet for a long moment, before looking up to Joe. He looks heistant...but willing to take a chance. "I don't know the details, and you have to swear to me...absolutely, 100%, on-your-mother's-grave SWEAR to me that what I tell you never goes further then you. Not to friends, not to any family, not to friends of Ita. Not to anyone. At all."

Joe Vellim: *He watches Aerin closely... then eventually nods.* Shuwah. Ah sweah. *He certainly seems to mean it.. staring into Aerin's eyes and waiting.*

Aerin Thomas: He watches the man a long moment before nodding slightly. "A plan will be put in motion that will make them believe that Ita is dead. Ita will then take a new identity." He gets an...odd sort of look on his face, eyes casting down to the coffee table. Something strangely ethereal...like he's not truly there for a moment, just a wisp of gossamyr, a phantasm.

Joe Vellim: *He thinks about this for a while.. eventually, his face shifts slightly.. from bright, to an odd, but mild sort of concern.* Good idea.. Ah... eye yuh.. take it ah wadn't gahnna be in on dis..?

Joe Vellim: Yew awright deah, Aerin?

Aerin Thomas: "Joe..." He rubs at his nose a little bit, thinking. Eyes are locked on the coffee table. "There's one problem with this entire plan. It's been bothering me for a long, long time. Do you know what it is?"

Joe Vellim: *He scowls slightly, thinking. Unable to find a bad part, or perhaps, merely not looking beyond "Ita alive", Joe looks back up to Aerin and shakes his head flatly.* Newp. Shuwah don't.

Aerin Thomas: He smiles a very, very faint amount. If one weren't even paying close attention, they wouldn't have noticed a twitch of his lips. "When the plan goes through like it's supposed to...and it will, trust me...I'm still a known entity to the vampires. They know who I am. And..." He chuckles a little bit, without mirth. "...Ita said it herself. It won't be too much of a stretch for the vampires to figure out what happened if soon after Ita is quote-unquote dead, I have a new mate, caring for my children, having replaced Ita. And then, the plan will have failed."

Joe Vellim: *Joe continues to look at Aerin.. at first, perhaps trying to figure out what the catch is. Its never been that simple.. the sudden glimmer of something he only gives voice to while alone is far too swift for the cagey irishman.* Yannow... ah like ya, Aerin. Ah dew. But I aint gahnna try an' figgah out how it can still woyk. Ahmean... ah'm naht stewpit. Yew know ah love heh... an' as much as ah like yew... dats da kinda ting wheah ah'm gahnna kick my heels. Yew know? *He rubs his head roughly.. strangely enough.. he doesn't look entirely happy. A deep, deep breath.*

chum: (mind another?

Joe Vellim: Ah'm sahrry, Aerin... ah'm jes' naht good enough a man ta try an' help ya figgah out howta make it all woyk anyways. *He can't quite look at Aerin... not quite.*

Joe Vellim: ((Peeeeeeerfect timing...*L*))

chum: *a groggy woman trundles in from the guest bedroom, hair mussed, T-shirt all but indecently short, the usual "i'll sleep whn i'm dead" one she's grown so fond of. She's rubbing at her breast with a frown, headed to the kitchen, muzzy with sleep* hmmm loves.. *she murmers sleepily*

Aerin Thomas: He nods a little bit, lips quirking ever so slightly upward. "I like you too, Joe. There is not a single soul on this world or any other I would..." He trails off, the thought not being completable. There hasn't been a single twitch in his eye, no variance from the spot on the coffee table where those emerald irises are boring through. "So we are in agreeance, then?"

Aerin Thomas: He looks up suddenly, blinking at the sound of Ita's voice. The look is gone. He's back to himself. He smiles to her...perhaps the faintest sadness there, nothing more. Could easily be tiredness. "Hey, love."

Joe Vellim: *Poor Joe. So easy. Too much so. The kaliedoscope of chemicals awash in his body drags his eyes to Ita .. the casualy sexy manner of the woman enough to calm his nerves for a minute- but his gaze slides back to Aerin like a man drowning in his own simplicity. He speaks quietly, perhaps hoping she won't realize he's there.* Mebbe we outta go tawk.

chum: *she's in the kitchen, only half absorbing things as she fetches herself a sandwich, sighing softly. No point in sleeping when her damn tits felt like overfull water balloons. she lifts her chin and sings softly out to the boys* hmm..allo loves.. och.. ah'm makin a sanwich fer a nip... *she trails off, offer of another implied*

Aerin Thomas: He looks to Joe, having completely lost track of what he's saying for a moment. "I'm sorry...hmmm?"

chum: *the rattle of dishes and things from the kitchen. soft cursing as she drops roast beef on the floor and a dog eats it*

Ita McNairee: (shup)

Ita McNairee: ...feed ye tae bears ah well.. *she threatens in a dark mutter, surely she hasn't adopted a bear? The pikey jingles softly in the kitchen*

Joe Vellim: *He waves a hand, understanding completely as Aerin looses track himself.* yah.. nevahmind. Getchaself a sammich, jonesy. *He smiles sadly at Aerin, beginning to wrap the grip of the shotgun in electrical tape- every inch adding a small white cottonball beneath the layer of tape once the first is firmly wrapped.. homemade padding.* Howahya, Eeda?

Aerin Thomas: "No...not really hungry." He could use a drink, though. He rises up, looking away from Joe, and makes his way into the kitchen, going for the scotch.

Ita McNairee: hooker bets feel like soomewan's stepped aul o'er em.. *she complains, jingling out with a plate of food*.. Wha ye tae maken sweetloves? *she yawns and leans against the tv unit, setting her plate on top and stretching with a crick of her back, shirt rising and falling, a smile as Aerin passes her* och jaysus

Aerin Thomas: He offers Ita a smile on the way, and pulls down the scotch and a good, tall glass. A slightly shaky hand pours amber liquid into the glass, a tiny bit spilling out the side...most makes it in, though. He sets the bottle down, taking up the glass and raising it to his lips. No small sips, no demure swallows...he downs a good, strong mouthful of the 18-year-old Chivas.

Joe Vellim: ah'm sahhry ya feel dat way, Eeda.. *Joe only distantly hears himself.. a bit ashamed of himself for lying.. if she didn't feel stepped on she wouldn't be... doin'... dat..*

Joe Vellim: Jes... makin' a gun. *He shakes his head a bit, depositing the rest of the bag of cotton balls in the trashcan between his feet as he tightens the grip wrapping.*

Aerin Thomas: He listens quietly from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a half a glass of blended Scotch whisky relfecting the light through it in little bright patterns.

Ita McNairee: *she rubs her chest and takes a bite of sandwich, covering her mouth as she eats* .. och.. *a dark eyebrow rises as she sees the gun* .. och jaysus, endeed ye are darlin.. ah've nae seen wan o those sense ah left tha bloody camp!! jaysus wept an mary cried.. *she moves over towards him, eyes wide* Aerin?! ye ever seen wan o these? *she turns her head to the kitchen*

Aerin Thomas: He smiles a little bit and nods. "Yeah, he showed it to me. Pre-sawing. Very nice, I must admit."

Joe Vellim: *He rubs a thumb across the burr of the barrels again.. contemplating. Aerin's special. Gotta good job.. not some washed up druggie fuck.. been around.. been a good man.. s'been a long time since Joe could say that about himself. He thinks as he watches the glint of the weapon.. turning it over and over again in his hands. It aint right, for him to sit here and let Aerin be magnanimous and self sacrificing.. part of him hates the idea that he would come out the better.. but a glance at Ita stills that voice, and he feels guilty again.*

Joe Vellim: Yeh.. wadn't bad.. kinna old dough. Seen a hog leg uh tew, huh Eeda? *He smiles, faking it. Just keep faking it, Joe.*

Ita McNairee: ye holden oop a bloody bookie sweetloves? *she laughs and takes another bite of her sandwich, shaking her head in mirthful amazement, she offers Joe a bite of sandwich*

Aerin Thomas: A couple more swallows as he finishes, and his glass is empty. He takes it to the sink, rinsing it out slowly, washing it, putting it up to dry. The bottle goes back up in the cabinet, in its place, the cabinet quietly shut. His ears and attention are on the other room.

Ita McNairee: *sandwich held out, she looks to the garou in the doorway, noting the liquor. A cock of her head as she watches him go about his business, she looks back to joe, waggling the sandwich*

Joe Vellim: *He takes a bite of the sandwich, giving the woman a saucy wink.* Dinnah anna sh- uh... *He scratches his head.. mebbe not the best time for the Vellim's Greatest Racy Quips for the Ladies.. Joe quiets, chews with a smile.* Tanks, Eeda- s'at roast beef?

Ita McNairee: *she shakes her head, a smile playing on her lips before she turns and sets the plate on the table, moving towards Aerin* Darlin... Ethan's gawn than?

Aerin Thomas: "He's...um." He blinks, thinking about it as he walks out of the kitchen. He'd completely forgotten the kin was here. "He's outside, checking up on the horses, updating their shots and all that."

Ita McNairee: och jaysus.. tha mustang'll 'ave hem oop tha side o tha stall hiden en tha hayloft.. bastard theng.. *she shakes her head and sighs, shaking a hand through her hair to work some of the tangles out* Ee's a good lad. trustworthy ah reckon *a smile up to the garou, she cocks her head* ee stayen?

Aerin Thomas: "No. Well, maybe tonight, it is getting late." He shrugs a little bit. "But he's staying in the city...got his own apartment set up."

Ita McNairee: *she nods and gives the man's chest a pat* ee's good folk. ets good o hem tae help wie tha horses an sooch as ee daes.

Aerin Thomas: "Yeah." He nods a little bit, a faint smile coming to his lips. "Yeah...Ethan's good folk."

Joe Vellim: *Quiet as massive events swipe through his mind's eye. First merely a faint shine of something.. of potential.. then a rolling, gathering avalance of bad. What about the drugs.. or booze.. self employment only barely pays the bills.. bright eyes sweep between the two of them discreetly, then back to the gun as he pushes it into the duffel bag.*

Ita McNairee: *she sighs and heads back to her sandwich, slipping on the couch with a tinkle of charms, crow pecking at the beef as she waves it away* och.. gie aft there. *she does a double take at the crow* och.. bollox.. tha day ye can take doown a cow, es tha day ah'll share beef wie ye. Gawn an find yer brothers corby. *she waves the blackbird off, with a laugh*

Joe Vellim: *Now's the time.. He gathers the bag and moves to stand, effort given to keep the Vellim Grin right where it is as he slowly lets the gathering cloud drive him toward the door.. shame at allowing Aerin to do what he's going to.. too much for right now. Joe needs a fix.*

Ita McNairee: darlin? *she cocks her head to joe, then looks to aerin in question*.. yer 'eaden oot?

Aerin Thomas: He looks after the crows, grinning a little bit, and glances over at Joe. A moment's pause, before he reaches for his trench coat, sliding it on. "Smoke break, guys. Be right back." He turns and sweeps his way to the back door, opening it up and slipping out.

Aerin Thomas: He pauses as Joe turns to leave, looking back over. A frown, lips pursing.

Aerin Thomas: d10: Per+Empathy (Joe): 10,7,3,3,3,1,8,

Aerin Thomas: d10: Specialty: 7,

Ita McNairee: *blinks as everyone heads out to go smoke.. or leave.. or something. she shakes her head and gives a laugh* well fook ye then..ah'll et me sanwich.. jes me an tha crows.. *she picks off a bit of beef and drags an ugly knit blanket over herself*

Aerin Thomas: Shit. He looks the man over, offering a smile. "Hey, Joe. Would you mind doing me a favor...before you leave, would you do me a favor? Stay here just long enough for me to finish my cigarette?"

Aerin Thomas: "You know me. I'm paranoid. I'd feel safer if you did. And Ita would too, I imagine."

Joe Vellim: Yeah.. ah gatta lotta crap ah need ta take careah- nah rest feh th' wicked, yeah? heh heh.. Ah'm a little tiahd.. jes wanned ta come by an see how ya weh doin. Ah'll be back latah maybe, huh? *He winks at Ita, smiling.*

Ita McNairee: *eyes narrow a moment. wait a minute rabbit. She looks to Aerin and joe in turn*

Joe Vellim: *He glances at Aerin, smiling.* Shuwah.. yeh- ah kin hang aut..

Ita McNairee: d10: joe emp: 8,3,5,3,7,

Ita McNairee: d10: aerin emp: 4,9,3,6,4,

Aerin Thomas: d10: Manip+Subt: 8,2,4,5,7,8,9,

Ita McNairee: (that bastard! *laughs*)

Aerin Thomas: ((Hee Hee Hee...))

Aerin Thomas: Ain't nothin' wrong with Aerin. As Ita would say, aul's peaches. Just a little tired. And he needs a cigarette. Damn cancer sticks.

Ita McNairee: *She cocks her head and moves over on the couch* coome joe darlin.. finesh me sandwich? *a pat of the cushion as she watches him*

Joe Vellim: *He stands there for a minute.. awkward, bag in hand.. not quite knowing what to say. He watches the woman in mute, silent regard. He drops the bag, suddenly.. and crosses the room toward her, as though preserving his nerve for the trip to her.*

Joe Vellim: ((Mod last post- Joe stands there until Aerin leaves out the back.))

Aerin Thomas: He nods them both and slips out the back door. However, instead of smoking a cigarette, he has something entirely different in mind. He ducks low and sneaks his way around the house, headed for Joe's car.

Joe Vellim: *The car glares silently at Aerin. Funny, the blocky little thing seems almost to dare the slender man closer. Too bad Aerin can hear it rusting- that must have once been a mighty moving scowl.*

Ita McNairee: *Ita smiles up to the bullish irishman softly, reaching up as he approaches her, intending on hugging the man. No guilt for joe, she was getting sick of the man bearing such a burden*

Joe Vellim: *Oh that's what he's doing? Not borrowing it for a trip to the store? The gremlin suddenly seems quite willing.. perhaps it had intended on much the same sort of thing.*

Joe Vellim: Hold on- jes... shaddap feh a second, okay? *Despite the wording, the irishman's voice is mild, and quite tender.. his hands slip across her back, then one against the side of her face, through her hair.. he hugs her less tightly, cradling and stroking a creature that apparently means more than morphine.. now if he could only prove it.* Ah love yew.. we boff dew.. yew undastan?

Aerin Thomas: The car no longer willing to take Joe away, he slips back around the building, lighting a cigarette once he's on the side of the house. No morphine for Mr. Vellim, 'less he's got a secret stash in the rustbucket.

Joe Vellim -> Aerin Thomas: ((fuck- roll per+alert. Its important.))

Aerin Thomas: d10: Per+Alert: 4,7,3,4,4,4,

Ita McNairee: *she rubs the back of his neck, nodding, voice soft as she's cuddled close* ah kain darlin.. ah wesh et was semple.. ah'm soory.. *she rubs his head, holding the man tightly as she leans back enough to look at him, eyes full of softness*

Joe Vellim -> Aerin Thomas: *While he works the car over, Aerin notices something a bit strange- a drawing, duct- taped to the dashboard of the car. Apparently the effort of a very skilled artist, but something about it seems very off the cuff- swift.. like a caricature drawing, only artistic.*

Aerin Thomas -> Joe Vellim: He pauses a moment, to look at the drawing a little bit closer.

Joe Vellim: *His fingertips brush her cheeks as he shakes his head slightly. He wasn't making her understand enough.. perhaps couldn't. It wasn't enough. Jeezus Aerin.. ya prick.. AH'M not enough.. He stares into her eyes with a quiet, determined hope, cradling her face delicately in powerful hands for a second.* Weah gahnna take careah ya an' th' kids. Okay?

Joe Vellim -> Aerin Thomas: *Joe in a fedora, sitting behind the desk of a film- noir style PI's office, consoling a sobbing femme fatale. His features are slightly off- canine.. doglike. Jovial and fiercely protective. The lines of his form in the drawing less the ghostly leavings of an athlete- more Joe as he was... a rather majestic physical specimen, confident and proud. Black chains wrap his body under a dapper suit.. a second head, starkly opposite the bright, happy face of the warrior- canine is a rabid and hateful beast- pus runs from its eyes as it gnaws at the chains- poisoned by them even as it tries to be free of them.*

Ita McNairee: Aye..*her eyes scan his face in quiet confusion. What was this suddenly? Worry tugs at sharp features a moment as she's held in thick hands. A nip of her lip, and she lullabies* .. Joe? Wha's tha matter darlin?

Joe Vellim: Nuttin's da mattah. Nuttin' ganna be da mattah neiddah. awright? Jes... Lookin' atcha makes me goofy, kay? *The smile starts weak, but blooms fully a moment later.* Yeh gahjuss wit ya hair all tangly. That's all.

Joe Vellim -> Aerin Thomas: *There is also a photograph of the femme fatale on the desk. "Alice" is signed across the picture in a female's flowing script. (the femme fatale looks startlingly like Alice Newcomb.)*

Aerin Thomas -> Joe Vellim: He stares at the drawing for a long time...lips pursed. It could just be a rendition from someone who is capturing his struggle against addiction...it certainly seems like it. Or it could be something more. He leaves it for now. Something to address at a later date. Something to think on for now. He heads back around the side of the house...later tonight, he'll take the thing and scan it, for perusal later.

Joe Vellim: Sa.. enjoy ya sammich. *He chuckles, grabbing the blanket, and wrapping her carefully in it. His eyes follow his hands, bright, if a little frightened.*

Aerin Thomas -> Joe Vellim: Alice he knows...a friend of Kaeleigh and Olivia's. A way to investigate the point. Good, he has a starting place.

Ita McNairee: och.. well yer awfi loverly wie yer hair aul a muss tae joe sweetness.. *she smiles warmly, letting him have that one, weak as it sounds. His bald head is smoothed as she lingers in his arms, until he moves to wrap her up. The gypsy sings* thank ye darlin.

Aerin Thomas: He comes back in. Even smells of smoke, thanks to the half a smoke he had on his way around the house. The door shuts behind him, and he moves into the main room. Good ol' smokin' Aerin. Knows nothin' about cars...nope, not him.

Ita McNairee: *She's cocooned up her blanket, head turning to the kitchen as the back door creaks shut* och.. aul cancer'd oop darlin?

Aerin Thomas: "Yep." He nods slightly, chuckling to Ita. "All good and set."

Joe Vellim: *He smiles again, taking a step back.. a deep breath as he looks from Ita to Aerin.* All set deah?

Joe Vellim: ((dlp))

Joe Vellim: *He smiles again, taking a step back.. a deep breath as he looks from Ita to Aerin.* Awright.. whul.. wouldit beah prahblem feh me ta come back latah? *He looks between the two of them, taking a shuffling step back toward his bag.*

Ita McNairee: och nae darlin.. dinnae reckon sae.. *she knda half falls onto the couch,, a wince as she does so*

Aerin Thomas: "Not at all, Joe." He shakes his head. "You know you're always welcome."

Joe Vellim: *He nods to the two of them.. still a bit cagey.. the boiling cloud of Aerin's selflessness.. his own inability to match it.. well.. that's gonna change.. good guy- but cahmaaan.. he's a hippie- Joe can't very well let him be the bigger man.. s'not fair! A chuckle to himself as he makes his way toward a slightly bemused gremlin, and closes the door quietly behind him.*

Ita McNairee: *she curls up and looks to Aerin* Darlin? Reckon yer sure ye dinnae wan ah-*it turns into a yaaawwn* hmmm.. ah sanwich?

Aerin Thomas: "No, love. I'm okay." He moves to take a very, very warm Carona off the end table of the couch and pull a swig off of it, settling down in the chair near the couch. It was the nearest to the beer, after all...he's just tired, is all. "Thank you, though."

Ita McNairee: ye an joe seem tae be gien awn wie wan another.. aye? *she cocks her head and nibbles her sandwich*

Aerin Thomas: "Yeah. You know I've always liked him. He's a good man. I'm glad to know him. Glad we both do."

Ita McNairee: aye darlin. ee's good folk *she sings quietly, considering* ah'm glad yer both gien better wie wan another...

Aerin Thomas: "Me, too." He looks up at her. "Are you okay, love?"

Ita McNairee: aye darlin.. *a contemplative nibble of her sandwich*.. darlin? *brown eyes look up, catch his* ah'm soory ets nae semple.. aye?

Joe Vellim: *Yeeeeew liddle bahstahd...*

Aerin Thomas: He nods a little bit to her, sighing. "It's not simple, love. But that's not your fault. And in the end, everything will be fine." He smiles. "The Goddess put us where we are for a reason, love. And we just need to be true to the course...and we'll be fine."

Joe Vellim: Yeeeew liiiiiiddle baaaaahstahd... *Joe walks around the car, going about the business of determining how to get the thing started again. Just another incident in a long stream of hiccups in the love/hate relationship between him and the green POS in the driveway.*

Ita McNairee: aye darlin.. *she sighs, not sounding as certain as she could, but giving a warm smile. One of the babies squalls in the bedroom and she begins to untangle herself from a blanket*

Joe Vellim: d10: int+invest (d=): 5,5,9,6,4,

Joe Vellim: d10: per/alert: 5,9,10,3,6,

Joe Vellim -> Aerin Thomas: ((what are the chances Aerin left tracks/signs he was there?))

Aerin Thomas -> Joe Vellim: ((Ooh. Can roll a Dex+Stealth if you like.))

Aerin Thomas: d10: Dex+Stealth (WP): 5,5,9,4,8,

Ita McNairee: *untangling herself, she shuffles towards the bedroom, releived. if that was a hungry sort of squall, maybe she'd get some releif tonight from the throb in her chest*

Aerin Thomas: He watches Ita go off to the bedroom. Once she's out of view, he finishes the rest of the beer with one long, single draught.

Joe Vellim: *Somethin' heah... he's sure of it. A long sigh, and he takes the sleeping bag out of the back seat. Wouldn't be the first time the bitch left 'im stranded. A good hard kick to the fender before he makes his way back inside. He blinks a bit.. first time he's ever actually stayed... ew.. awkward..*

Ita McNairee: *its a few moments before she fetches up an archie and toddles out of the bedroom, quilt around her shoulders, crow on her head, t-shirt long since having been tossed on the bedroom floor as she allows the hungry tyke to feed, little body tucked against her breast to suck*

Aerin Thomas: He picks up the TV remote and turns on the tube...just taking it easy tonight. He's guessing door opening in 5... 4... 3... 2...

Joe Vellim: Welp- dat fekkin cah... *Sleeping bag under one arm as the door drifts shut behind him.* Ya guys min' if'n ah.. stay da night? s'prahbly flooded.. should be awright by mahnin?

Ita McNairee: *she gets comfortable on the couch, letting the quilt pool in her lap, she tilts her head, crow ruffling its feathers. she sighs and rearranges the baby*

Ita McNairee: *she turns to smile at the door, smoothing a hand over archie's head with a jingle*.. Och! darlin.. tha's peaches.

Aerin Thomas: Right on cue. He looks over at Joe as he steps in. "Oh, shit...of course, Joe. Absolutely...if you want a bed, there's several bedrooms upstairs. Don't need to use a sleeping bag..."

Ita McNairee: och aye darlin.. *she looks to Aerin then back to joe, nodding.*

Joe Vellim: Uh? hey dat'll woyk... jes' grahb one den? *He scoots toward the stairs. Wha... dey take toyns lookin' heh inna face uh summat? Bettah watch mah mout'..*

Aerin Thomas: "Just grab one, yeah." He nods to Joe, watching him head up the stairs. "G'night, Joe. Sleep well."

Ita McNairee: Goodnecht joe darlin. See ye en tha mornen. *she calls softly, watching him head upstairs, and settling down to let her little boy suckle*

Aerin Thomas: ((Speaking of sleep.))

Joe Vellim: ((Goodnight folks!))

Ita McNairee: ((Quite agreed.. *sleeps*))

Aerin Thomas: ((Thanks for the scene, guys. That...kicked...ASS. *Smacks my PC around for being a manipulative little shit*))