Time/Date : It is currently 17:59 Pacific Time on Wed Dec 12 2007.
Place : Charlie's Tavern(#683RJ)
Weather :Currently in Saint Claire, it is partially cloudy. The temperature is 45 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.43 and steady, and the relative humidity is 70 percent. The dewpoint is 36 degrees Fahrenheit (2 degrees Celsius.)
Moon Phase : Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (21% full).
The environment of this questionable establishment seems close and hot around you despite its fair size. The walls are done up in unremarkable fake-wood paneling, an ugly dark-brown that chips in many places to show the lighter plywood underneath. The floor is the sort of uneven, grey concrete that suggests this building's earlier life as a garage of some sort; it dips and rises, gathering small pools of beer and other spirits in various locations. Wooden tables are scattered about, some in better repair than others but most featuring elaborate networks of dents and scratches; a bar runs the full west side of the room, its uniform brown length accented by a single greasy metal footrest. Dark posters, long since faded into incomprehensibility, hang off the walls at odd angles. What light there is here reaches through in dusty beams from the two windows facing the street, and from the flickering fluorescent rig swinging gently over the single mottled pool table at the back. Perched up over one end of the bar is a battered, black-and-white television.
A single battered black door leads back south to the street.
Sometime over the last couple of years, a teen girl with a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper has grown up, and matured into a young woman. With a poor attitude and a hair-trigger temper. KL is a little over five-foot tall - no late growth spurt for her - and slimly built. She moves quickly, and is rarely still for any length of time. Her natural balance and co-ordination are clearly evident in her movement, but any hint of grace is smothered with her air of irritation, hostility and restrained aggression. She manages to turn even simple activities - like ordering fries - into not particularly subtle attempts to provoke fights.
Her mousy-brown hair hangs loose around her shoulders, the front falling to frame her face. Her hair looks like it has been cut recently, and by someone with at least a little skill. She's really quite attractive, perhaps not a pin-up, but far from ugly, with a cute upturned nose and wide expressive hazelnut eyes. However, any level of appeal her physical appearance might have is swamped by the anger in her gaze and the sullen set of her mouth. She stares at people - particularly people she doesn't know - with a cold fury, as if trying to decide exactly which way to kill them.
KL has pale skin decorated in two places - on her left upper arm is a largish tattoo of something that looks a little like a bear, with its jaws spread wide and slaver falling in droplets. It has the words "No Mercy" written with gusto beneath it. On her right shoulder-blade, if visible, is a second tattoo, two-inch-square, of a winged horse. There isn't much in the way of excess flesh on her, her cheekbones are clearly visible and her bare arms have a tight musculature that speaks of regular and plentiful exercise.
She is wearing a pair of black jeans that look brand-new, and have a designer label on the rear, and a black vest top with just a hint of a satin finish. On her feet is a pair of ankle boots, also black, with about two-inch block heels. Over it all is a rather snazzy black leather jacket.
Around her neck hangs a pendant, an oval disk made of some kind of bone. It looks like it's been decorated with carved designs, which are somewhat hard to make out on casual inspection. The pendant is hung on a leather thong.
Most noticeably of Hispanic-decent, Andreas is a slender, roughish and perhaps even dashingly handsome man. His dark hair is shaved closely to his scalp. A five o'clock shadow often looms over his face. The irises of his eyes are dark. His nose is long and broad which arrive to lush, full lips. His built is fairly average, showing a mixture of muscle and natural-looking body fat. There is often the smell of spicy-smelling aftershave or cheap cologne that rises faintly from his clothing. He is often found wearing a pair of khaki-colored Dockers with a fitted tee-shirt. On his head is regularly a baseball-cap and on his feet a pair of tennis shoes. Around his neck hangs a rosary.
After the movie, Andreas drives Kathryn around until they reach Charlie's Tavern. All evening, he has been a complete gentleman by opening doors and assisting the Garou in any way possible. Again, he holds open the door that leads into the Tavern. "So, what do you like to drink?" he asks as he leads KL towards the bar.
The movie has, perhaps, been a bit of an experience for Dre. KL seems to regard cinema as an interactive experience, and has - during whatever fight scenes there were - been offering fairly loud advice to the participants. This hasn't endeared her to the other watchers very much. Fortunately, the people who had seats immediately around the couple decided that they'd rather sit elsewhere, or possibly skip the movie altogether. The Ahroun seems incredibly bouncy and upbeat, though she's walking around with exaggerated care, as if she's afraid she'll fall over at any moment. In answer to Dre's question as the enter, she speaks in a lowered voice. "Think we can get away with me having a beer?" she asks. "I like beer. On special occasions."
"We need to take you out more," Andreas murmurs mostly to himself. "You can have a couple of beers if you want." The man winks and then orders the pair a pitcher of some kind of cheap American beer. The man slips into a stool at the fairly vacant bar. It's the middle of the week, college students are gone on holiday, and the weather has been less than desirable. He pours them both plastic cups filled to the brim with alcohol. "Cheers," he says with a mischievous smile.
"Cheers," KL says, with a matching grin, taking a big gulp of beer. "Beer always makes me remember a friend of mine, Clemency. She was great." A pause, as she looks slightly more serious, before cheering up again. "What did you think of it? I thought the action was great, though bears don't really look like that, I think. The talking scenes were a bit dull." She takes another big swig from her cup, and waits for Dre's answer.
Dre has his eyes on the Ahroun the whole time, although doesn't exactly stare. He appears to be a fairly knowledgeable kin. He listens to the young woman with a smile plastered on his face. "All movies have flaws," he explains. "It is our way of entertaining and appealing to our emotions." He scratches his chin and asks, "How long have you been around here for?"
"Oh, that's a complicated question," KL says, around another mouthful. "Um... properly, about three years. I had some parental issues that kept chasing me around the country." A nonchalent shrug, and, having decided that she's warm enough, she slips off her jacket and puts it over one of the unused stools next to her, revealing her new - and miraculously healed-up - tattoo. "You only just got into town, right? To keep an eye on Mel?"
"Our father asked me to come here to look after Melodie since either of us really have family," replies Andreas. He leans in a little closer to Kathryn-Laura. "How old are you?" he asks quitely. The bartender who is at the other end of the bar, but there is always the chance of being overheard.
"Twenty," KL says, equally quietly. "Nearly legally allowed to drink. You?" She takes another drink of her beer - she's about halfway down the cup now - and studies it. "Beer," she observes, insightfully.
"I am twenty-five," he answers between sips of beer. He takes the pitcher and refills Kathryn before she is even half-way through hers. "Yes, it is beer." he laughs.
"It sort of tastes a bit nasty at first, I always find," KL says, "but after the first few sips it starts to taste nice. This is a nice bar. Not that I've been in many. I...you know. People don't like me. I think it's because I'm short." She laughs at this somewhat feeble joke. "I'll probably be dead by the time I'm twenty-five." This is said perfectly cheerily, as if it doesn't bother her at all.
"You're short and most likely full of angst," the Hispanic replies with a playful grin. He rubs the top of his shaved head and gives the Garou a charming expression.
"Goths wear them around their necks," KL says. "Not really my style." She takes another pull. "You have much less hair than my first...only...boyfriend. But that's OK, cos you're really good-looking. I think. Better than Alexander. And you smile and aren't posh." A grimace. "How did you get into the house-remodelling thing?"
"I am posh," Dre answers with a grin, "just don't act like it. My family ancestors are all Cuban bureaucrats." The man shrugs his shoulders. "I graduated with a degree from University of Miami in architecture while I was in juvie."
"In juvie?" KL asks, wide-eyed. "Wow. Can I ask what for, or is that against the crim code?" More beer is consumed, and she looks at Dre with slightly unfocussed eyes. "Good that you got an education though. I stopped school when I was 13. My Dad's posh. Or he'd like to be. A lawyer. So was Mum."
"Yeah," replies the Hispanic man. "It really isn't that important. All you need to know is that I made the wrong choice and served time for it. I am a good person. I certainly wouldn't kill anyone unless it was in defense." He sits up a little in the stool. "You're parents are both lawyers? Are they... uh, in the know?"
"No," KL says, somewhat sadly. "And... well, they'd never understand. They wanted a daughter who wore dresses and had ruffles and liked pink a lot. Or at least Dad did." She shrugs. "Other people have bigger problems, but mine are occasionally a bit persistant. Doesn't matter any more. When I turned 18 I got my trust fund and that provides enough to keep us all in food and chairs." Something that's almost a giggle, and KL leans closer to Dre, putting a hand on his arm for support. "Whee," she says, matter-of-factly.
Dre smiles and hooks an arm around the Ahroun's waist to keep her steady. The kin appears a little more tolerant to alcohol. "Who is this Alexander-guy you were talking about? Does he live around here too?" he asks curiously. "I am willing to keep all of you lovely Fury ladies happy. At least those of you that are heterosexual or are desperate for children." He smiles and leans in to kiss KL's forehead. "Nike doesn't seem like a woman who is interested in men at all."
"Alexander is a very posh guy with a big house," KL says. "But he's all "for the tribe" and stuff and doesn't have a backbone." She lays her head on his shoulder. "And I don't want that. I want...you know, a person. I think I'm nice. Well, except for when I shout at people but I only do that so I don't hit them and bad things happen. And other people have persons and nobody really has ever shown interest in me." She blinks. "Nike isn't, I think. Helen's straight. Leslie wasn't. Don't know about Laura. Then there's Mel and you know about her. And me. I'm the confused one. Nike's all control and self-discipline and she doesn't really understand how I work. Always telling me to calm down. But she's solid right through. Too tall. Can't beat her."
Dre combs his hands gently through KL's hair. "Done drinking?" he asks her with a smile. "I think you're pretty nice.... and well, pretty too. Certainly are talkative, which is a lot better than a girl that doesn't talk at all."
"Probably dranked too much," KL confides in him. "That feels nice. Nobody's done that before." She puts her hand in his. "Like you." A long pause, and she tips her head up to look at him, quiet for the first time in ages.
Dre looks calmly back at the Ahroun. He rests his other arm on the bar as he allows the Garou to lean against him. "Probably not the best idea to drive you back home like this. Nike would probably use my intestines as Christmas tree garland."
KL smiles and doesn't say anything, instead cocking her head slightly to one side, still watching him, admittedly with eyes that aren't focussing that well.
The kin chuckles and lightly beeps the Ahroun on the nose. "What are you thinking?" he asks her with a grin. He has perfect white teeth.
"Um..." KL says. "That you're going to have to come down here to kiss me, because I can't get up there." There's an obvious nervousness in her voice, and she her gaze is pretty much fixed on his mouth.
Dre laughs. He strokes her cheek with his rough hands just before kissing her in a delicate manner. "Mmm, has been awhile since I have done that," he says.
"That was nice," The Fury Ahroun says softly. She lifts a hand to his face, stroking his cheek in a mirror of his gesture. She smiles at him. "Do it again."
"You're such a lush," Andreas replies. He pulls the full-moon into his lap and lands another kiss on her lips. This time is a little longer and firmer than the last. "You want to come home with me?" he asks her in a whisper.
KL looks at him, then counts on her fingers. She bites her bottom lip. "Yes..." she says. "But...nervous." A tight grin. "What happened to no expectation?" No heat in this, more amusement than anything else.
"You choose what you want to do," Andreas replies. "I am not going to have you strangle me the next day for talking you into doing something that you didn't want to do." The man curls his arms around the Ahroun.
"Wouldn't do that," KL says, definitely. "And you haven't and you aren't." She lays a hand on his chest, and studies him for a moment, before giving a little nod. "Yes."
"Is that a yes to coming back to my place with me?" Dre replies with a waiting smile on his lips. The beer is as good as gone. There is barely enough to concider a drink out of.
KL nods, and then puts a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him with a sudden degree of passion. A long kiss, that goes on and on, and that she doesn't really seem particularly inclined to end.
Dre shifts the woman in his lap and returns the kiss with an equal amount of passion. His hand wanders, stroking along her curved side. He feels nervous and confident at the same time. Its a strange feeling.
Eventually - probably through lack of oxygen - KL breaks off the kiss and inclines her head to the door. "Shall we?" she asks, gently stroking the side of his neck. "Before someone tells us to get a room?"
Dre laughs. "That might not be a bad idea," he replies. He sets her feet carefully down on the floor, although is quick to stable her with his arm back around her waist. "I'll be honest and say that my place isn't the best. I live out of the homes I am working on."
That stablisation is definitely needed, as KL nearly collapses on her feet touching the ground. She clasps both arms around him in a bear hug, as she scrambles back to something resembling uprightness. "First time...heels," she says, by way of explanation. "Woo. Spinny." A moment or two more, and she registers what he said. "Doesn't matter. Have slept in dumpster. Must be better'n that."
The kin snickers. "I won't ask about the details involving sleeping in a dumpster," he replies with a grin still lingering on his lips. He steps slowly towards the door with the Ahroun in-tow.