Ita McNairee [friday night]: OCH! *a burst of laughter as she pulls the hat back up and rubs a tanned palm over his head, slipping inside the house with a tinkle of charms* coome en ye blighter.. ye wan soome pie? *she's headed for the kitchen, hat still held hostage as she rubs circulation back into her arms, babies on a blanket within the warmth of the livingroom*

Joe Vellim: Naaah... m' set. *He chuckles slightly.* Yah lookin' quite da gen'lmen in mah hat deah.. distinguised like, yah? *Bratwurst fingers retrieve a peppermint from his pocket- unwrapped and transferred to his mouth as he turns to look out the window, wary, then moves toward the living room. His gaze seeks Ita often- the babies only slightly less so.* Sa... how ya holdin' up, Eeda?

Ita McNairee [friday night]: och.. ah'm alrecht darlin.. wooried. but than ah'm aulways wooried.. aye? *she grabs a wool shawl off the back of a kitchen chair and wraps it around her shoulders, moving to herd the man towards the couch, placing his hat back on his head sloppily. She steals a kiss* Wha's awn yer mind sweetloves?

Joe Vellim: *He kisses the woman back- an energetic peck as he smiles and adjusts the hat- Joe settles on the couch after leaning down to pet Archie's head.* See ya bald ass is stayin' a man o' depth and style deah... *He smiles at Ita, watching her face closely.* Yannow... ah ~wish~ ah knew howta ansuh dat one.. *Thick fingers curl over his knees.. stilled from what they would seek otherwise.*

Joe Vellim: *A shaky, excited sort of fear.. the events of the last evening both galvanized and fiercely spooked him. It shows a bit in his face.*

Joe Vellim: Sa... why'd Aerin stick ta town? Ahmean.. 'e was onnis... *he blinks for a moment, barely believing the words himself.* ...feet. *Curiosity, before he looks to Ita expectantly.*

Ita McNairee [friday night]: *she shoos his hands away from his knees, a smile to the babies fussing about on their blanket, crows pecking away at something in a bedroom. The curvy pikey settles against Joe's side and looks up at him, hair falling over her face in a mess* och.. reckon ee figured et waas best ee stay en an calm doown a tad. aye? *a hand comes to stroke at his neck* sae.. muddle et oot fer me.. what ye reckon 'appned last necht?

Joe Vellim: *He watches her settle, face slipping into wistful regard before her words wake him up a bit. He frowns, thinking about it as he tries not to think about the woman's splash of long hair and assemble the events of the evening.* Look, Eeda... ah kinna figgah'd thet deah's stuff ah maybe aint s'pos'd ta know.. *he picks at his trouser legs for a moment.. courage Joe, courage..* Ya mentioned befoah... bad shit can happ'n if some guy like me wah ta know abahtit... *Bright eyes swivel to the woman as he speaks.. watching closely.* Maybe aint sucha good idea ta be talkin..?

Ita McNairee [friday night]: aye darlin.. boot reckon ye kain enough ae be en danger aulreadies.. aye? *her hand captures his with a tinkle of metal. stopping it from to much trouser fussing. she cocks her head* .... reckon ets beter ye kain frem tha folks wha care aboot ye the wander aboot half wooried an spooked. *an understanding smile, brown eyes impossibly soft*

Ita McNairee [friday night]: *she nuzzles her head into his shoulder like an overly familiar housepet, sighing and looking up at him* ask yer questions sweetloves. ets aulrecht

Joe Vellim: *His eyes fall to her hands for a moment as he absorbs the words.* Dat's th' paht ah don' get... ahmean.. deah was all kinna shit happ'nin' in deah.. people tossin' aroun' all kinda invisible- like stuff. Dint' see no vampiahs uh summat... don' mean dey woynt deah. Ahmean... even Aerin. Gettin' all scary an' shit.. talkin' ta dose two bitches, an' dem tawkin back... like deah woynt nahbuddy in dat bah but dem. Only dey weh, Eeda. Reg'lah people.. like me. Jes' deah ta hava beah uh two.. treated like fukkin' rag dolls. Yah sorta folk gahnna be so "fuck ev'rybahdy but us" wit everybahdy but me? Comeahn..

Ita McNairee [friday night]: darlin.. *she frowns a little hurt maybe, shifting back to lok at him*

Joe Vellim: nah look... ah don' mean "yew" as in yew.. yannow? I mean, like... genrally. huh? vampiahs n' weahwolfs... n.. alla resta that. Why do ~I~ gedda know? An' why ah reg'lah people gettin caught up in? Yannow... deah was a lotta people innat bah. Dey gaht hoyt 'cause a bunch uh uppity wiehdos wit supah powahs decided dey wanna fight widdout takin' it outside! *He grows a little more animated.. angered.. troubled by events he still can't remember quite clearly.* Den dat fekkin crocodile- I dunno wheah dat ting came frahm!

Ita McNairee [friday night]: *she leans over and removes the damn hat, tossing it between the babies to be slobbered on, hands smothing over the broad irishmans bald skull* darlin.. tha 'appens everyday wie folks wha nae ave "superpowers" oor wha ever.. . wan folk decides tae peck a fight, an they dinnae see fet tae leave... an folks wha are nae envolved gie hurt. *smooth smooth stroke pet. she presses warm lips to his temple and murmers in that plasant singsong* ets like anythen darlin.. gie wan folk a gun, an they'll keep et en a drawer an only use et effen they need et. Gie another folk a gun an they'll hauld oop a foodimart. ... there are bad folk an good folk en aul shapes. Aerin's a good folk.. dinnae lump hem en wie bad just causen ee makes yer radar gawn aft.

Joe Vellim: Dat aint whut ah'm sayin- an' jes' because da gun is differn't don' make it any moah excusable. Ahmean- some shnuck widda gun gahtta deal wit police. Dese guys gaht nuttin' stoppin' dem. No consequences. Jes... livin' in deah own woyld 'less it explodes inta mine! *He rolls his shoulders slightly, trying to relax as she strokes his head.* It aint right. Sumbahdy gahtta stan' up ta dem! *His brow furrows, pugnacious jaw set.. very canine in aspect and stubbornness.* It aint right.

Joe Vellim: *It rolls from the short man in a torrent of hurt feelings and ernest desire.* Ahmean- next 'ting is dese kindsa people gahnna come ta my neighbahood- an' we aint even gaht fekkin cops what'll go in deah!

Ita McNairee [friday night]: *her fingers work along Joe's scalp, rubbing gently as she watches him, jingling slightly* darlin. stop et. Wha ye saw was soomewan standen oop tae em. Wan lass was mind fooken folk. ether folk tried tae stop et. folk wha could.. aye? Et gaw ot o han, like a police shoot oot can tae. Dinnae be foolish. There are plenty o consequences.

Ita McNairee [friday night]: *she leans forward and kisses the dome of his head, leaning back to look at him* Joe. look o me.

Joe Vellim: *His eyes slip back up to her face as her words sink in.. his look moving from incredulity, to suprise, brief stop at hurt- then right into wounded pride* 'EY. FUCK foolish, yew heah me?? Ah'll put up widda lot- but mah neighbahood's alla gaht! Mah people- an lemme tell yew sumptin- *He points a thick finger for a moment.* Maybe dey gaht powah ah don't- but 'skins like me been slingin' ahselves at thugs wit guns feh decades wit nuttin' but ah hands an' hahts, an weah doin' jes' fiiiine. Yew coddle somebahdy th' fuck else, get me?

Joe Vellim: *One brawny arm moves her away- firm, but not over harsh.. tired of the laughter.. it may come from the back of his mind, but he treats it like it came from her.*

Ita McNairee [friday night]: dinnae ye point yer finger o me joe.. ah'll grow teeth an bite et aft, ah well! *she scowls at him and crawls off the couch to stand, expression hurt* aaugh. Joe...

Ita McNairee [friday night]: d10: per emp (wp): 4,8,9,3,2,

Joe Vellim: *More begins to boil to his lips- the roughened man tries to clamp his teeth down on hurtful words.*

Joe Vellim: d10: wp: 9,10,6,2,

Joe Vellim: *He gets up from the couch himself, face reddening with anger... he swallows what he was going to say next... but only just barely. Joe storms for the door.*

Ita McNairee [friday night]: Darlin! Dinnae gawn! PLease Joe! Dinnae be angry.. *she's behind him in a moment, babies beginning to fuss a little at the tension*

Ita McNairee [friday night]: d10: maip + emp(dif four): 7,3,4,9,5,4,5,

Joe Vellim: d10: : 9,8,9,8,

Joe Vellim: I aint always been a joke, Eeda. Deah's stuff dat means shit ta me, believe it ah naht! Wha YEW needta do is lemme go b'foah ah say sumptin wrong. Gaht shit ta dew.*He wheels about- his body whipping around with a haunting reminder of long since vanished grace as he glares at the woman, bright eyes nearly glowing with wounded dignity. However- he seems to be waiting for permission, in spite of himself.*

Ita McNairee [friday night]: darlin.. *she sings, soft and wounded* ah've never thought ye were a joke. *she' stepped back instinctively when he whirled around, hands coming in front of her now as she jingles close enough to feel his body heat and the thrum of his anger between them.* Please. PLease Stay Joe. Ah love ye. Dinnae wan ye tae leave haven made ye angry wie me. Please? *she ventures a hand towards him, biting her lip*

Ita McNairee [friday night]: reckon ah'm nae sae good o sayen hengs an ah muggle em oop soomethen awfi darlin. boot please.. jes. stay an let me try an untangle meself?

Joe Vellim: *For a moment, as she steps back, the bullish man watches her.. completely uncomprehending- no idea why she would have been nervous.. hitting her? Apparently doesn't register for some time.. then his brows furrow.* Ah don' hit goyls, Eeda. Don' do dat. *His eyes find the ground for a moment, shamed.* Ah don' know if dat's good uh naht. Ah'm tense... mad as fuck at yew. Ah needta stay shahp.. *He shakes his head slightly, drawing back from her hand.* Naht righ' now.

Joe Vellim: nuttin' ta untangle... *Tension drains from rocklike shoulders as he slumps a bit.* Ah'm tense... sahrry.. been a wiehd coupleuh days.

Joe Vellim: ah uh.. love yew tew..

Joe Vellim: ah don' tink Aerin's a bad guy. Dat's not whut ah meant.

Ita McNairee [friday night]: ah can understan tha peaches. ah love ye.. an Aerin likes ye tae. trusts ye. *she lullabies warmly, dropping her hand to look at him* Ah'm sory ah gaw defensive.. jes...folks wannen tae hunt an kell thengs wha they dinnae quite oonderstan.. ets a beg problem fer any o oos folk wha arent quite tha same as ethers.. aye? *a swallow, milk chocolate eyes wet with tears* .. darlin.. can ye imagine wha folked dae tae me effen they thought ah was a threat? Ah'd be en a lab, wie chunks o me en a jar.. Aerin tae. och joe.. tha bairns..Och... *she practically chokes on the words, hands coming round her arms. a lot smaller than 5'2" suddenly*.. ye scared me wie yer talk o fighten..

Joe Vellim: *He doesn't say much, mulling over the ideas in his head before her words find purchase in an idea that hadn't quite occured to him... his eyes glimmer for a moment.. perhaps a way out of his moral conundrum.. hunt them? Who th' hell hunts dem.. waaaaaaaitaminnit...*

Joe Vellim: *A worried look at the woman.* 'Ey deah... easy wit da jars an' sh- uh... stuff... *He holds up one hand, horrified.* Nahbahdy ganna do dat ta yew guys...

Ita McNairee: *she bites her lip and watches him. Small and soft as she waits for him to respond. A slight jingle as seh holds herself a moment more, then feels the sudden compulsion to have her children close and near, bending to gather them*

Ita McNairee: darlin.. folk will dae tha tae oos. bad folk. there was a doctor wha.. *she squints her eyes and looks away, curling around her children on the floor*.. there was a bad doctor.

Joe Vellim: *He watches her as she jingles away, moving to follow, perhaps a touch contrite.* ...sahrry.. *He pats her shoulder a bit as she gathers the squirming children.*

Joe Vellim: Wha... tried t' do dat ta yew?

Ita McNairee: *its seems thats all she's really going to say on Dr. Stroganoff, or whatever his damn name was, not wanting to think on it as she cings to her children like at any moment they could dribble out of her arms and slip away*.. darlin.. please.. dinnae gawn.

Joe Vellim: Heah... *He offers to take one of the mobile bundles, reaching out broad hands as he moves toward her.* Yeh.. bettah stay uh? *He offers her a dim smile, realization of his own foolishness settles on his conscience and he tries to make it right.*

Ita McNairee: (cings = clings.. grar)

Ita McNairee: *once he's got archie securely in hand, Ita gathers the little girl to her breasts and moves him towards the couch, intent on curling into his lap. Needing the closeness maybe. Or perhaps forming a physical barrier against him departing again*.. Joe... reckon Aerin'd like tae explain aul o wha ye saw tae ye... effen.. effen ye reckon'd tha'd be aulrecht?

Joe Vellim: *He goes mutely, the soft curves of her pressing him to the couch harder to argue against than words alone. He wants to stay.. and is ashamed for it.. part of the problem in itself. He settles on the couch with Archie, gently extracting the fedora from his gums and dropping it on the floor..* Ahchie... 'tings filthy. Ya don' need dat in ya face.. *He looks up to Ita as she joins him, nodding ardently.* Yah dat'd be okay- s'why we wuh gahnna get tageddah.. pretty shuwah anyways.. *((per/alert))

Ita McNairee: d10: per alertin: 4,2,5,7,

Joe Vellim: *Joe's coat, which is still on, feels a touch clunky these days. A hard object slips to the side as she settles into his lap.*

Joe Vellim: *Imagination is sometimes all there is.. One arm cradles Archie, the other wraps around Ita's waist. The bullish man's heart flutters for a moment.*

Ita McNairee: *she curls into him warmly, hair tickling against the side of his jaw as she dips her head to look at her little boy lovingly, wiping a bit of drool from his mouth and snuggles close to the broad irishman* Ah love ye darlin. Et'll be peaches an cream. .. ah'm soorry naethens semple.. ye kain? *brown eyes drift up to him*

Ita McNairee: *Tori makes a soft gurgling noise from the crook of the pikey's arm. trying out "NA!" for the first time in her existance*

Joe Vellim: Stuff don' woyk dat way tamuch, huh. *Wistful.. a little sad as he squeezes the woman to him gently. A sharp clearing of his throat as he brings his mind around to the problem at hand.* Sa.. when's Aerin gettin' heah? *...and is he going to catch me squeezing on Ita.. bah...*

Joe Vellim: *He starts a bit, looking at the bundle in Ita's arm... eyes going wide.*

Ita McNairee: taemoory darlin. *she smiles up at him, a crooked sort of grin* reckon ah wanned a bet o joe tae meself, afore thengs gaw aul heavy an envolved. *she reaches up to stroke his cheek gently, nuzzling close*.. reckon ah wanned tae explain thengs a bet meself.. aye? *she looks to him hopefully*

Ita McNairee: *and noting the look, looks down to the gesticulating tori, then back to joe* wha darlin?

Joe Vellim: She SAID summat! *He blares quietly.* only uh... ah tink it wuz 'nads'.. *he gives Ita a confused look.*

Joe Vellim: *Ita's question brings concern and a touch of worry to the fore.* Shuwah Eeda.. wha'd ya wanna tawk abaht? *The rough man quite soft as she nuzzles.*

Ita McNairee: och why ye look o ME!? *she swats him lightly, laughing* Et wasnae a word darlin.. she's jes tryen oot her sounds. *Tori blares back at joe another round of "NA!nanaNAnaNANANAna.. AH!" and makes with waving her arms, as its apparent ~someone~ understands her babie-ese. Ita chuckles melodicly as Archie makes a face. No one likes a noisemaker, apparently*

Joe Vellim: Nah yew can't have da keys! *Joe's eyes twinkle as Tori goes for more noises* dat cah's jus' been waxed!

Ita McNairee: och.. we've along way afore she's asken tae borrow yer car, thank jaysus. *she chuckles and nuzzle her jaw against joes* hmmm. reckon ye saw a bunch o oddness en tha bar tha ether necht...aye? wha wie dragons an wizards an Aerin gien hurt an sooch. jes.. ets nae aul bad.. aye? ye said werewolves.. where'd ye gie tha part frem darlin?

Joe Vellim: wha... wizahds? *He regards Ita flatly.* Yeh kiddin... *He narrows his eyes slightly, bright orbs scanning back and forth through memory.*

Joe Vellim: Dragons? *At this he looks to Ita in confusion... she seems to have lost the short man.*

Ita McNairee: *she laughs* ah dinae kain.. ah wasnae there darlin!! *she kisses his jaw and leans back* but wizards.. wizards ah can explain.. aye? there are folk. wha use magic like storybook wizards. Dinnae kain 'ow.. but ah'd a friend wha could dae et. Ah'm part o their wee group causen o tha thengs ah can dae.. dinnae kain 'ow ah fet exactly.. boot reckon tha's where ah'm pegged. aye?

Joe Vellim: Wait wait... *A canny expression leaps across Joe's face as he watches Ita for a moment before speaking again... perhaps chosing words carefully after the fiasco of before.* Hol' onna sec, Eeda... yew an' Aerin dint' jes' tawk abaht how e' was gonna stay da night in town, huh....

Joe Vellim: little slowah deah, peaches.. ya accen'... kinna hahd, huh?

Ita McNairee: och nae darlin.. ah tauld ye, ee gave me a bet o et but et was aul a muddle.. aye? *she tilts her head, hair tickling the babies as she watches Joe with brown doe eyes* Reckon ye gaw caught en a scuffle o sorts aye? wie a betch o a wizard?

Ita McNairee: *she rubs his head, slowing* an yer accent's aul roses tae? *a cheeky grin*

Joe Vellim: *He shrugs a bit, answering as soon as he has his facts straight.* Dunno... pretty much ah know deah weren't nahbuddy ah couldt tell was a vampiah, dat chick shocked da hell outta Aerin- but th' shock came fromah liddle box, not lika wand uh summat. Den some kinna alligatah came from someweah.. ah dunno. It look'd like it maybe bit up th' chick whut shocked Aerin. Sa.. yeh tellin' me.. *He rubs his head for a moment, perhaps soothing.* Maybe thet chick wassa wizahd?

Joe Vellim: Wha? What accent? Ah tawk lika 'mericahn!

Ita McNairee: aye darlin.. a tecnhowizard! Ah've ah wee friend wha's wan o them.. can dae thengs wie a wee electro theng. *she nods and rubs his head too, going for soothing herself* Poor Aerin was shocked. och.. nae wonder ee's sae angry. *she nuzzles into his chest, touching archie gently*

Ita McNairee: *she looks up at him and smiles, a kiss to his chest. let him beleive he has no accent for now*

Joe Vellim: *He holds the pikey tightly, disturbed but mindful of the rare and treasured event. The house becomes theirs for a moment in the bald man's mind, and he enjoys the feeling for a while even as he tries to concentrate on the task at hand.* Awriiiight... *He scowls slightly.. techno wizard. eeeeeeh. That's hard to swallow.* Sa Dragon.. maybe uh wizahd made one uh summat? 'cause deah was anuddah lady deah.. black lady.. real purty.. she did summat wiehd too.

Joe Vellim: *He turns from his musings to look at Ita again.* 'Ey! Sa... ah been watchin' lots uh dracula movies an' stuff.. sa... what woyks? Ahmean... howdaya killem? th' bad guys, ahmean.

Ita McNairee: aye darlin.. ah'm nae sure aboot tha.. *its mumbled int his chin as she rests on him, curves melting into the hard bulk of his body* tha ah reckon Aerin'll 'ave tae cover wie ye. Ah jes wanned tae make sure ye were nae.. ye kain.. angry oor frightened.. aerin's folk bring oot magic fear en folk wieoot magicks. tha's why poor archie greits sae mooch.. tho dinnae mention et tae aerin.. reckon et hurts hem awfi tha tha wee wans cry sae. *she hums and looks up at him* Fire an a stake through tha lovebeater darlin. tha's et. och.. an tha sun.. remember ah never stayed o'er o yer hoome?

Joe Vellim: *He nods, listening.. silent, for once, as the woman speaks.* Yah... yah I 'membah. *Creases at the corner of his eyes, but its brief.* A stake? Whoda thunk it.. da movies was right. What abaht silvah? Won' a silvah bullet muck dem vampiahs up pretty bad tew?

Joe Vellim: *He blinks, words dying as he thinks back.. There was that guy in the park that day.. scared him so bad he like ta takea dump right theah.. reason he hadn't called him yet about them models.. even drunk.. scared as hell..*

Joe Vellim: *He chuckles as she speaks.* Shi- uh.. crap Eeda.. ah'm plenty frightened.. don' be fooled by alla dis be-yooty.

Ita McNairee: nae darlin.. silvers nae good. boot.. reckon poken about lookin fer a thengs weakness willnae make ye tae popular. aye? *she sighs against him, happy to be with the boxer, speaking so freely* tha's why ah've vampies tryen tae end me.. aye? ah kain wha ah shouldnae.. an ah'm nae part o tha club nae moore, sae ah'm a danger. *she presses her noe along his neck* boot nae aul o em are baddies. they're like folks. aul types. *she grins up at him and nudges him again with her nose* ye've more questions beautiful joe? oor would ye be oop fer setten tha wee wans tae bed an curlen oop wie yer gypsy?

Joe Vellim: *Joe keeps his thoughts to himself.. merely filing away the info without comment as he holds the woman and her baby, arguements kept silent as he smiles and nods.* Sounds good, lady. Maybe watcha movie uh summat, huh?

Ita McNairee: *she nods, pressing her lips to the braod irishman's jaw and settling in*. AYe. We'll make et somethen wie oot supernaturals.. *snuggling down, she offers him the remote and gets set for a quiet evening*