The room is fairly large, once the home of all the library's materials that fell under the heading of 700: Arts. Nearly all were taken along in the move to the new library, although a few particularly tatty specimens appear to have been left behind on one of the remaining bookshelves, of which there are several. One other is also still actually being used for its original purpose, bearing a collection of rather newer books in varying condition. Another seems to have become an ersatz dresser, with neatly folded clothing on the shelves and a towel hanging over one corner to dry. A wheeled suitcase seems to be acting as a drinks cabinet next to a desk and a pair of rickety chairs; most of the other furniture has been removed or shoved against a wall, out of the way, including a stained and lumpy twin mattress sitting on its short end. It's a corner room, and there are two many-paned, arch-topped windows in each of the outer walls. On one side, a queen-size mattress in much better repair is laid on the floor between them, with pillows and linens on it suggesting it sees regular use.
Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
He's in a well-worn biker jacket of the traditional sort, all fairly closely fit black leather and silvery zippers and snaps. Beneath it, he's got nicely-fitting dark indigo jeans with a plain white tank, its ribbed cotton skimming close enough to hint at the musculature beneath. Over that, he's wearing a long-sleeved, navy blue shirt, unbuttoned; judging by the white-on-red number patches on the left arm, the flag patch on the right shoulder, and the round fleur-de-lis patch to the left of the collar, it was once part of someone's Scout uniform... probably not his. Okay, the 'Boy Scouts of the USA' patch over the right pocket's a hint, too. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
Andrea Jackson is a slender 5'5 with light brown hair with red and blonde highlights. She has a slightly tanned complexion. Her eyes are a deep chocolate brown. She tends to wear low-cut jeans with graphic T's of various heavy metal bands and windbreakers.
Felix isn't the ideal person to choose if something has to happen reliably, but for the last couple weeks he's actually showed up to a couple more of Andrea's soccer games to play cheering section. Probably unwisely given the moon, that included today's, but thankfully by the time the last whistle goes there still hasn't been any bloodshed. None in the stands, at least.
As the final whistle blows, Andrea bends over and grabs her knees, taking a few deep breaths. She has grass stains on her shin guards and a bit of dirt on her face. She scored a goal today which happened on a lucky chip shot that bounced off a defender's foot and in her direction. As she ambles for the locker rooms and thus the showers, she gives Felix a smile as she catches his eyes in the stands.
Felix grins back, lifting his Coke bottle toward her in something resembling a toast, and stands, stretching, as he watches her go. As appears to be usual, he's been sitting up on the back row, and he closes the drink, shoving it into his jacket pocket as he steps up onto the seat and hops up and over the short fence around the rear of the bleachers to drop down to the ground on the other side. It's a good landing, except for the part where it ends up real close to where a guy was walking at the time. Apparently the bottle could've been closed better, since when it falls out of the pocket and hits the guy's sneakers, it re-opens and some pours out onto them. "Shit," Felix says, leaning down to scoop it back up and re-close it. "Dude, what the fuck!" the guy protests, looking down at his shoe and then back to Felix, "Watch what you're doing!"
After heading into the showers and taking a quick rinse off, Andrea throws her clean clothes on and heads back out to search for Felix. Dressed in a pair of joggers and a baggy sweater, she waits patiently as she slips her hands into her pockets, watching the rest of the students head off with their parents and other friends to go celebrate.
Rage: >>> You rolled 4 dice at 4 diff (3 8 4 5): 3 successes. <<<
Intimidation: >>> You rolled 5 dice at 6 diff (10 7 2 1 4): 1 success. <<<
Felix shoves the bottle back in his pocket and glares up at the guy, temper flaring. A few other people leaving the stands leave faster and take a wider path around the pair than they might have before. "YOU watch what you're doin'," he says, taking a step in toward the guy, "Ain't like I was hard to see. You don't pay attention, shit happens." The guy looks faintly uneasy, but is annoyed or stubborn enough to stand his ground, fingers curling where his hands hang, "MOST people take the stairs down from there like, you know, civilized people! I just GOT these shoes!" A few people have slowed down to watch, although not from too close, and no one's interrupting.
As it seems that there is movement and noise from behind the bleachers, Andrea lets out a sigh and heads over with a quick pace. "Hey, Felix! Come on, let's go!" She calls over to the Gnawer as she sees a fight starting to brew. "You promised to take me to lunch." As she rounds towards them, she reaches out for his hand to give it a tug.
Intimidation: >>> You rolled 5 dice at 6 diff (3 2 8 7 2): 2 successes. <<<
Taking the cue: >>> You rolled 1 die at 6 diff (7): 1 success. <<<
"Yeah, well, I ain't all that civilized," Felix retorts, smirking at the guy. "I guess!" the guy says, "Someone oughta teach you some manners." Felix takes another step toward him, decidedly into personal space, and that plus the toothy malice of the grin that goes along with it result in the guy looking distinctly more unsettled. "You volunteerin'?" the Galliard asks, but the poor human's saved from having to answer one way or another by Andrea's timely arrival. The look she gets when she tugs Felix's hand is annoyed -- but only fleetingly, and he leaves his hand in hers while he gives the other guy another look up and down, and then shrugs. "Yeah, okay," he decides, "Reckon we're just about done here."
"Yeah, we are done here." Andrea says with a loud huff as she gives him another tug, pulling him closer. Once they get some distance away, she sighs out. "What the fuck, man? You trying to beat up high schoolers now? You'll get yourself and probably me in trouble. The moon is too big for you to wave your dick around here on campus." Her arm slides around his waist as she leans into his body.
"He was bein' a dick!" Felix protests, though he slides an arm around her in return, "...and it ain't like I wouldn't be a high schooler if I was still doin' that shit anyway too. I mean, what, you sayin' I oughta pick on someone my own size?" It's somewhat sardonic; the guy was bigger than he is, after all. Albeit (presumably) human. "Anyway, I gave him plenty of warnin'. You can tell by the way he ain't currently bleedin' already."
"You're a killing machine for Gaia, of course he is not your size." Andrea says as she slides her other hand along his chest as she pulls herself in even closer. "Sides, if you got steam to burn off, I'd rather you do it with me in bed." Giving his neck a kiss and a bit of a nip, she gives his backside a bit of a swat.
Felix ffts, rolling his eyes. "I woulda just kicked his ass normal-style. Coulda done that fine before I even knew about any of the other stuff." He smiles a bit at the kiss and nip, though, tilting his head to give her a little more room for that, and apparently didn't expect the swat just then, since it makes him laugh. "I pretty much always got steam to burn off, one way or another. But I'm intrigued by your plan an' wish to subscribe to your newsletter," he says, tightening the arm around her a bit. "You still want lunch?"
"Nah, not even hungry now. I will be in a few hours I'm sure." Andrea says as she continues to kiss along his neck, giving suckling motions with her lips as she squeezes in closer against his body. "I just want to get out of here. I hate this fucking school."
"Not hungry at all, huh?" Felix teases, letting his fingers roam over her side. "Yeah, okay. Let's get gone. ...so those girls still fuckin' with you, or what?" He leads the way to where the Caddy's parked, letting go of her to open its door for her with more of a flourish than strictly necessary. "Pick a place."
"Yeah, they're gonna keep messing with me until we graduate most likely." Andrea says as she steals a kiss from him before ducking down into the car and reaches for the belt. "I don't care, anywhere but here. I just want to get away."
The belt's kind of stuck down between the seat and the back, although it only takes a little tugging to get it free and usable. "Still think it'd be worth the suspension to beat that shit outta them," Felix says, shrugging as he drops into the driver's seat. He doesn't even look for the seatbelt, just reaches down to start the engine and settles back comfortably, one arm across the back of the seat and resting against her. From the direction as he starts driving, he seems to be aiming them toward her place.
"Yeah, well -- it's not worth it for me, and colleges won't be happy about it." Andrea says as she leans into his arm a bit, circling one of her own about him. "I'm glad you came today. It's cool you coyotes are willing to be bored for two hours while a bunch of girls kick a ball around."
Felix glances upward, tilting his head in a sort of 'okay, granted' way to the bit about colleges. "Too bad they ain't guys, I could do it for you," he muses, but shrugs again, dropping it for the moment. Her comment gets a grin, and a squeeze. "There's shit to appreciate about watchin' a bunch of girls kick a ball around. But it was a pretty decent game, too. Your goal was pretty good."
"I got a lucky bounce for a change. I don't score often." Andrea says as she slumps down in the chair. "At least it will get everyone off my back for a few days while it's fresh in their heads. Usually if I have a bad game, I have a bad days."
"Dunno, seems like you score pretty often to me," Felix teases, fingers playing over the back of her neck and up into her hair a bit. More seriously, he says, "For real, I didn't like playin' soccer, but I did it enough to know you ain't half bad."