There's something about libraries that suggests things ought to be quiet even after they're long out of service. Probably some ghost librarians are having fits, because Felix doesn't have the amp all that quiet, and he's been playing some old Offspring, which also doesn't lend itself to a calm environment. At the moment, he's standing in the recreation corner, just getting to the straight-up yelling portion of Bad Habit, so anyone at the stairs or coming to the door right about now would probably hear, "You stupid dumbshit goddamn motherfucker!" at top volume. So, you know. Library-y.

Lilah is (very quietly) humming along, and her voice isn't half-bad, if you can hear it over the screaming and guitar. She smiles at Felix even as he's yelling the insults, and generally seems to be a-okay. There's a book near her, but it's not currently being read, or even touched.

The doors to the library open and shut with a thud as Justin heads inside. His shirt is torn across the front and covered in blood. The pants he wears don't look any better. He has an aura of fresh rage oozing upon him as the pull of the full moon tugs at his very core. His shaggy hair is stuffed under a black beanie, haphazardly sticking out in tufts.

It's more the movement of the door than the thud that catches Felix's attention, and Justin's appearance that makes him actually stop halfway through the next line, looking the guy over. "Fuck, you look like shit," he greets the Ahroun, though the tone is at least half-approving. "What'd I miss? You need anythin'?"

Lilah's eyes widen slightly as she sees the state Justin's in, and she begins to rise from her place on the floor. "Felix covered it, but. That your blood, or...?" She glances at Felix, then looks back to the Ahroun, frowning slightly.

Shrugging his shirt off, Justin wads it up and lobs it into the corner where the rest of his stuff is at. Along his side he has a nasty gash roughly six inches running along his ribcage. Flaring out his nostrils, he says, "I am fine. Other guy is not. Pugsly decided to send a buddy over to find me. Had a machete." Kneeling down next to his bag, he begins to root through it.

Felix's eyes narrow, and he sets the guitar down -- gently. "That was pretty fucking stupid of him," he says, heading over to check out Justin's condition from somewhat closer. More curious than worried about it. "You think he's gonna need more lessons? Doesn't seem like the kinda guy with too many friends just dyin' to help out." A pause, and a very brief flash of a grin, "No pun intended."

As Felix heads over toward Justin, Lilah finishes rising and follows suit, though she keeps her distance just a bit, as though trying not to crowd them. "Who's Pugsly? I mean, if'n ya got time to tell it. I understand y'all got Justin's troubles to attend to right now." She pauses, then adds, "Either of ya need a drink, somethin' to eat, anything?"

"I'm fine. Pugsly's friend ain't fine. Neither is Pugsly." Justin mutters under his breath as he searches through his clothes angrily in his dufflebag. Pulling out a black and red flannel, he wads it up in his fists. "I took care of business and called Benedict to clean it up." He growls out in frustration. "Didn't even get my thirty percent cut. Was hoping he'd just be fucking smart. Heh. Heh. So I pranked him to death. With a tire iron."

"Drink sounds good," Felix says to Lilah, nodding, and he absently pulls his smokes out of his pocket to light one. "...you had a tire iron on hand?" The important part of this. "...oh, Pugsly, not machete-guy, right. Sorry, man." He pats Justin once on a bit of shoulder that doesn't seem cut up. "Bright side, I guess he ain't gonna be beatin' up those whores no more. So hey, that part's definitely a success."

Lilah purses her lips as she listens to the two, looking serious and neither approving NOR disapproving. She just... is, at the moment. She nods her head to Felix at his request, and turns to head wherever they've been keeping drinks. She's not gone very long; clearly, she hurried. In one hand is a thermos filled with water, and the other hand contains a half-empty bottle of cheap wine. Water into wine?

"Took care of machete guy first, then went and got myself the iron. Poor Pugsly, not even his mother would miss him." Justin says as he shifts into the glabro form to let the long gash along his side heal. He gives a half grin to Lilah as he takes the water, then downs it quickly with a 'erp' in his throat. "Thanks." As he watches his wound knit itself together, he wrinkles his nose. "I ain't even tripping though. Now we just gotta find a different source of revenue that is just as dishonest."

Felix nods to the explanation, and Pugsly's place in the world. Well, while he was still in it. He can't help grinning at the last line, though. "Dishonest in where it's comin' from or how we get it, and are we necessarily talkin' self-perpetuatin' revenue, like you were thinkin' before?" He takes another drag off his cigarette, and an annoyed look passes fleetingly across his face as he exhales. "Can't help as much as I coulda back home. There's an awful lot of people in this city I still gotta get t' know. But, still."

Lilah returns Justin's smile, and goes back to listening to the two of them talk. She's quiet right now, but doesn't appear moody or upset by anything. Just quiet.

"I dunno, just figured we'd get some scratch together, something to feed ourselves with and help out the local shelters. Guess I could get a job dish washing at Denny's for two weeks outta the month or something. Least you get free food outta it and customers won't see me. Over night crew maybe." Justin shrugs upwards again. "I gave the silverware set to Nick and he used to run pawn shops so he knows how to get a good deal. He's gonna sell that stuff so we can use the cash." He says apologetically. "I just couldn't hang on to it. Much as I love that you did that for me. Ya'know, indulging my crazy mouse traps."

The apologetic tone gets a shrug and a smile. "'s all good, not like we don't need the money too, right?" Felix says, "And I still think that trap's pretty cool." He considers a moment or two, pacing. "If we're just talkin' gettin' some money, an' it doesn't have to be makin' itself like that deal you were goin' for would, there's a lotta ways to get a little. Quicker than washin' dishes. More fun, too." A quick grin at Justin. "...granted I think you maybe aren't cut out for some kindsa cons. But there's a LOT of houses with shit like the silver in 'em. And a lotta cars out there, too. Problem is you hafta know where they oughta go =next=, an' 'round =here=, I don't yet."

"If y'all need money, I can pitch in. I work at the Denny's, an' I do it purty often. No overtime or nothin', but if you needed it..." Lilah shrugs, and then gives the two of them a little smile. "Ain't no call for anybody to go hungry."

"Round here the only thing you're gonna get is herpes." Justin motions with his hand. "This neighborhood ain't got no cash. I also kinda feel bad 'bout breaking into people's houses and stealing their shit. At least decent folk. Wouldn't mind busting a crack dealer or something. Maybe we can hit up the junkyard and start recycling shit. Can find all the copper which goes for a decent coin, then start finding beer cans and shit like that." He gives a quick smile to Lilah as well. "And that's your money though. I wouldn't feel right 'bout that either." Sliding the flannel over himself, he shifts down into the homid form and heads for the door again. "I'm gonna head to Edgewood and work out. Blow off this steam before I kill a third person tonight. Peace out, yo."

"I didn't mean 'round =here=," Felix clarifies, shaking his head. "Anyway, yeah, there's always that. An' for the shelter, if it's about food, could always try the shit I did for my RoP. Don't see why it wouldn't work here too." He glances upstairs, adding, "I was thinkin', those rooms on the third floor, they don't seem to be gettin' used much. We should try an' set one up for workin' out in." There's a moment of consideration, but he ends up just giving Justin a light salute of farewell. "Catch you later, then."

Lilah looks at Justin thoughtfully for a moment, and then nods. "Well, the money's there if'n y'all need it. And... 'm sorry your plan didn't work out right," she says, despite looking as though she's not clear on what the plan *was.* "Take care, okay?" She gives him a soft smile.

"Eh, better not to stink the place up anymore with man sweat." Justin calls out with a rough laugh before he waves over his shoulder. "See you later love birds." The door creaks and thuds behind him, the sounds of the city slipping through briefly.

Felix snorts softly at the farewell, and turns back to Lilah. "So. Whatcha thinkin', doll?" he asks her, and starts back toward the corner o' recreation. As an afterthought, he snags the bottle of wine from her, swinging it idly by the neck as he goes. The music and other activities of the day are probably still helping, but the blood and missed battle (such as it is) are speaking to his Rage, and the surpressed energy is definitely up again and itching to get out.

"Lotsa stuff, y'know how it goes," Lilah says with a shrug. She doesn't seem to mind him taking the bottle of wine, and in fact hands it right over. She pauses, then steps closer to him, putting a hand on his chest. "'bout you?" she asks in turn, before planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"Which lotsa stuff, though?" Felix asks; he pauses in his walking when she puts her hand on his chest, and returns the kiss. No answer about what he's thinking, but then she didn't really answer him either. He transfers what remains of his cigarette to his mouth, and takes her hand, bringing her along with him to the couch.

"I reckon if you ain't gonna tell me, I ain't gonna tell you," Lilah says with a sly smile. Nevermind that he asked her first. She squeezes his hand gently as they go, and once he's settled on the couch, she'll aim to sit in his lap and wrap her arms around his neck familiarly.

Felix is perfectly happy to have her sit there, quirking a brow at the smile. "Asked you first," he points out, nigh-inevitably, "Anyway, I'm pretty sure we already established I don't think quite so much as you. So spill." His arms come around her waist, although at the moment it's more to open the bottle than anything else. One does remain there afterward, though, and he removes the cigarette from his mouth with the same hand holding the bottle, takes a drink, and then offers it to her.

"I reckon you did, and I reckon we have," Lilah accepts his points easily. "But then, I also reckon, if'n you think less'n me... that means you oughta go first, cuz you got less t'say." She smiles at him, less sly now but still with a fair amount of teasing in it. She accepts the wine bottle with a nod of thanks, and has herself a nice swig of it before offering it back.

"That don't follow. I'm a Galliard. I can have an awful lot to say no matter HOW much I'm thinkin' or not," Felix retorts, grinning at her, and he reclaims the bottle for another drink. "Plus. You don't get goin', I'm gonna forget I was thinkin' anythin' at all pretty soon. Now I suspect you're gonna say that means I oughta go first, but what you're not takin' into account is I'm fuckin' stubborn." Another grin, although it's smaller.

Lilah listens to him in silence, and at the end she laughs, shaking her head. "A'right, ya gotta point. Touche, touche. I give. I was thinkin' a buncha stuff, though." She holds up a hand to stall him from asking WHAT, and explains, "I was thinkin' it was real nice o' Justin to say that. About the Denny's money. An' he don't seem half bad. Was also thinkin'... y'know. A bunch o' complicated stuff about death an' killin' people an' responsibilities an' such. An' bein' curious about this Pugsly, but not wantin' ta bother y'all. An' m'feet hurt. I was thinkin' m'feet hurt, cuz I worked this mornin' an' had a lotta tables."

Felix takes another drink of the wine before handing it back again, then puts out the remains of his cigarette on the floor and puts his hands on her waist, trying to pick her up and slide her off his lap so her back will be against the armrest instead. Then he slides a few inches the other direction, so her feet are in his lap, and starts taking off one of her shoes. "Yeah," he agrees, "Justin ain't half bad, I reckon. He ain't quite figured me out yet, seems to me. But then I prolly ain't entirely worked him out neither." Both shoes get dropped aside, and he starts rubbing the closer foot. "Pugsly, he was a pimp. Ain't nothin' gonna get rid of the profession, okay, but this guy, he liked puttin' on a show, smackin' the girls around t' look tough. One of 'em, he punched her in the throat so hard she was in the hospital breathin' through a tube. 'til she died." The anger is hard to ignore, there, but he still has it under control. "So we had a word." Thumbs firmly in her instep, pressing at the muscle there. "No more of that shit, and Justin told him he had to pay him 30% of what he made from now on. Thing about city territory, there's a lotta people gotta understand it's yours. Guess Pugsly weren't a real quick learner."

Lilah has a drink of the wine herself, smaller this time, and she lets him move her where he will. She does look curious, right about until he's taking off her shoes-- at that point, she just looks ridiculously fond of him. She nods to his comments about Justin, and says, "I reckon none of us's really figured each other out. Not yet." She reaches out to stroke his cheek, lightly, and then leans back, curling her toes before relaxing her feet. Clearly, she enjoys the foot rub, as she keeps reaching out to touch him, lightly and affectionately. While he talks, he can see a little frown form at the mention of *why* they did what they did, and then she slowly nods. "Guess he weren't," is all she says at first. And after a longer pause, she adds, "'m glad y'all took care of that."

"Justin thinks the girls're stupid for stayin' insteada goin' home. I reckon it ain't that simple." Felix gives a little shrug. "Maybe the next one'll be better. But that's basically that." He's quiet a moment, rubbing, and sighs. "I hate fuckin' complicated shit. Did I miss anythin' you wanna know?"

"I reckon the same," Lilah says with a nod for Felix, and rubs his arm as he sighs, and even more at what he says after. "I wanna know everythin', but I reckon that'll do for now." A pause, then, "I do wanna know everythin' aboutcha. But I don't reckon it's really m'place to pepper ya with questions, even if I knew what t'ask." She gives a shrug, and then smiles. "Though I *should* ask where my kiss's at."

"Well, I don't steal shit from poor folks," Felix says dryly; it's convincingly flippant, except for the fact that he says it at all. He leans in to offer her that kiss, which requires an awful lot of leaning on both parts if they're going to succeed, since he's still busy rubbing her feet. Assuming she cooperates, he sits back up only part way to begin with. "You can ask me shit. I mean, if you think of things you wanna ask. Maybe not if there's other people around or whatever, dependin' what you wanna know, but, y'know." A brief flicker of the grin, "Not that I'm promisin' to answer. But I reckon most things I would."

At Felix's dry words, Lilah tilts her head, just slightly. "Never said ya did," she says simply, and then does lean forward to kiss him, warmly rather than with any kind of 'starting something' fire. "I wouldn't ask ya stuff with nobody around, if'n it were anything serious-like," she promises then, and adds, "...an' I dunno. Seems rude 'r somethin'." A shrug, and then, "Ya can ask me things too, y'know. Like what I'm thinkin'." She smiles faintly. "As a fer instance."

Felix shrugs again. "Never said y'did," he replies, with just a faint upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. Her promise gets a nod, "Didn't really think it was all that likely, but I figured well, reckon that'd be an exception sometimes." There's a pause, while he switches to the other foot, and then a teasing grin. "Whatcha thinkin'?"

"So why bring it up, then?" Lilah just has to ask, and then she laughs lightly at his teasing grin. "I knew ya'd ask me that. Yer gettin' predictable, Mr. Sinclair." She smiles, and then lies back a little, propped up on her elbows just a bit. "I was wonderin' what I just asked. And thinkin', boy, I betcha he's gonna ask me what I'm thinkin' now."

There's a flash of anger when she asks that, a brief welling of the Rage, although it doesn't seem directed at her. Felix quashes it again, with another shrug, and gives her a teasing smile that's at least mostly real. "I didn't wanna disappoint you," he says, "You woulda been all let down if I hadn't asked. And we can't have that. ...Mrs. Sinclair."

Lilah looks downward when she sees him growing angry, and around when he shrugs, she says simply, "Sorry." She keeps her gaze lowered until he says 'Mrs. Sinclair,'" at which point her lips pull up into a smile, and she leans forward to try and kiss him again.

Felix leans in to meet the kiss again, moving a hand from her foot to the back of her neck. It stays there a moment afterward, while he says, "Ain't nothin' for you to be sorry for." He steals another quick kiss, and then the wine, when he sits back up.

Almost shyly, Lilah shrugs and says, "S'just habit, I reckon." She returns the quick kiss, and then leans back again, this time not even propped up at all. She doesn't apparently feel the need for a pillow under her head at the moment, even if it means she doesn't get *as* great an angle to consider him from. She smiles, if faintly, and asks, "Y'know, ya never did tell me what you were thinkin' before. So whatcha thinkin' now?"

Felix takes a good drink of the wine, and considers. "...well, now I'm thinkin', what was I thinkin' before?" he admits, and seems to be trying to remember for the length of another drink. "...I was thinkin' about how to get us money," he says, "an' maybe doin' that thing about the shelter. And maybe checkin' out Edgewood, 'cause I can only practice so many moves on mattresses an' shit. Be real nice if they had a heavy bag maybe."

"You don't gotta get us money. Get Justin money, sure. But I got money from workin', an' you're welcome to it. I meant what I said, an' I don't make empty promises." She rests her hands on her stomach, and then nods her head to the rest of that. "Heavy bag'd be good. I wonder how much them cost, if'n we wanted to bring one here?"

Felix gestures to the room-, or perhaps building-, at-large with the wine bottle. "I meant this us," he says, "You 'n' me are doin' fine, I reckon." He reaches over to rub her stomach, just below her hands. "I 'preciate you offering too. If I didn't say already. ...I dunno how much they cost. I never tried buyin' one."

Lilah nods her head to the 'us' correction, and smiles as he rubs her stomach. She reaches down to try and hold his hand, if only for a moment, and squeeze it gently. She's quiet for a moment or two, and then asks, "Well, if it ain't too much, mebbe it's somethin' we could do. I dunno." She shrugs.

"So you're not on board with the too-much-man-sweat theory?" Felix asks, squeezing her hand back. He's willing to let her keep holding it a bit if she wants, but if she lets go, he brings it back to her feet again.

Lilah keeps his hand held only briefly, though that's likely because of the difficult angle. She smirks at his question, giving a shrug. "I dunno. I know there's no such animal as too much Sinclair man-sweat, but..."

Felix laughs, reaching for her wrist and trying to tug her up to where he can kiss her again. "Reckon you might be biased," he teases, "...I mean, I do sweat pure liquid diamonds, chocolate, an' sex, true, but that don't mean you ain't biased. We might hafta get a second opinion. Plus... we had somethin' like that, most likely it wouldn't all be mine." Horrors! "...I still think it's a good idea, though."