The library's ground level is one large room punctuated by even rows of pier columns that confidently hold the weight of the upper floors. The building is old but solid, its lath and plaster walls dark with age. Here and there some of the plaster has worn off to reveal the wooden slats beneath. Heavy, dark grained and decorated mahogany wainscoting runs the length of the walls, complimented by thick, ornate crown molding along the ceiling and each of the columns. It's clear from the dilapidated condition that the building's been abandoned for decades. There is a somber, sepulchral quietness to the place, even when alive with people, that is perhaps a ghostly echo of the rigid, required silence that its wardens demanded when the library was in its heyday.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 61 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 8 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.80 and falling, and the relative humidity is 90 percent. The dewpoint is 58 degrees Fahrenheit (14 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501
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 old black jeans with a rip in one knee and the cuffs half walked off, with a faded black band t-shirt ('Anarchy Burger - Hold the Government', parodying the In-N-Out sign) under an open dark red hawaiian shirt. 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.
Thick honey-blonde hair, styled in a poofy set of curls, rings this pretty blue-eyed young woman's head. She's in her late teens, and her hair's currently left down, though it's occasionally pinned up. She stands about five and a half feet tall, and is a little on the thin side of things, though not to an extreme. She dresses mostly in informal styles, from ripped jeans and tank tops to the occasional sundress.
Currently, she wears the former, her black tank top emblazoned with a large sequined red heart, and her jeans so ripped as to be nearly indecent. About half of the heart's sequins are missing. Her feet are clad in red strappy lightly-heeled sandals that have seen better days. She wears little in the way of jewelry, just a black wooden bracelet, a stainless steel and rhinestone mood ring, and (probably fake) gold earrings. When she speaks, a fairly thick Southern accent is evident.
Slug's frame is tall and lanky, somewhere in the neighborhood of six feet tall and just under two hundred pounds... But it's hard to really pin down the particulars. His semi-loose, dull orange hoodie hides much of his body and breaks up his frame, hiding the outline of his body. The hood is almost always up, and he takes pains to use it to obfuscate as much of his face as possible... And it isn't hard to see why. The right side of this young man's tan face has been torn up something awful. Deep troughs of keloid tissue run from just beneath his wild red bangs, across his high cheek, and terminate somewhere on his slender, stubbled jaw. It's hard to tell when he's got his yellow sunglasses on, but not both of his blue eyes move. It's likely the right one is severely damaged in some way, or false.
Beneath the hoodie's neckline, one might get a flash of the white tank beneath, especially on a hot day. The zipper on his hoodie has been rubbed with grit and dirt to take the shine out of it, and so has every other bit of metal on him, from hoodie right on down to his black zip-up boots. His jeans are significantly tighter than his hoodie, and often stained with something or another. On his hands he wears a pair of black fingerless gloves, something cheap and throw-away.
The usual somber quietness of the library is spoilt at the moment by, incongruously for the location, electric guitar. The cause of this is in the recreation corner; Felix is playing 'I Wanna Be Sedated' on a beat-up, sticker-covered blue instrument, right-handed and flipped to be played left, plugged into an amp that's equally seen better days and appears to be powered by a solar panel duct taped to a nearby window. There's a hell of a lot of energy going into the music; the moon may deserve some of that blame.
Nearby sits Lilah, humming along to the music, though it's unlikely her voice would be heard unless she *really* made an effort. She's looking cheerful enough, and occasionally throws in a little bit of a head bop to go with the beat. She even tosses out a bit of air guitar, when the chorus pops up.
Slug rustles the front door a little before he puts his shoulder to it, as if to say 'here comes someone!' before sliding it open. A shaft of dim city light shoots across the dirty floor as he slips in, then disappears as the door is secured behind him. Slug pauses long enough to take off his hood, then he shuffles in, a bulging gym bag slung across his back.
Felix probably can't hear the rustle, but he can see the movement and the shaft of light. He watches the entrance, finishing out the last line or so of the song before he calls over a fairly cheerful greeting, in the dying of the last note. "Hey!" No wave, the hands don't leave the instrument yet, but there's a small lift of the chin to punctuate it instead.
With most of her back to the door, Lilah misses both the sound AND the movement, but turns at Felix's greeting. "Oh, hi there," she greets in turn with a smile, and shifts her body so as to be able to see both men. She does wave, friendly enough
<OOC> Felix checks to be sure -- we're going with having met in passing already, for Lilah too, yes? :)
<OOC> Slug: Yes. :3
Slug 's shoulders are squared, hard with some lingering tension that's gathered there. He looks up at the both of them, first Felix, then Lilah. He lets out a slow sigh, then pauses long enough to slowly, carefully reach for and light up a cigarette. "Hey," he says. "Settling in OK?" He takes a drag off his cigarette, then shrugs the bag off his shoulder, and sets it on the floor.
"Yeah, reckon so," Felix says, with a quick grin, and a glance to Lilah afterward. "Thanks. Ain't seen you about much; things goin' okay?" He tracks the cigarette with his eyes, and after a moment sets the guitar gently down and seats himself on the arm of the couch, digging in his pocket for the Altoids tin that holds his own smokes.
Lilah smiles to Slug, and nods her head as well. "Everyone's been mighty kind," she tells him, and then lets her smile encompass Felix, as well. She nods to Felix's question, indicating she's interested in the answer as well, before reaching for a thermos nearby. She has a sip, then wipes her mouth clean, though it doesn't really need it.
Slug's cigarette flares up at the question, then he shrugs. "Things are what they are, but there's nothing I can solve by getting pissy and frustrated about it. A lot on my plate, I guess, but it's a big plate, and the whole Sept eats off of it. One way or the other, everything will work out." Slug jerks his head down at the bag. "There's some bread in there. Some pastries, donuts, stuff. Little stale, but still food."
Felix lights up, taking a slow drag and tucking the tin away again. "Oh, yeah? Thanks," he says, eyeing the bag with some interest, but not checking it out closer immediately. "You ain't got no one to delegate shit to, huh? What all's fillin' the plate right now? I know 'bout the vampire thing, though I dunno if there's plans an' shit yet." The bag gets another look, and then he does lean to take a look at the contents, and come out with an apple danish before he settles back to his seat. "Thanks," he says toward Slug again, and rips a fair bit off the pastry to offer to Lilah.
Lilah listens to what Slug has to say, her expression sympathetic, and then accepts the piece of danish. She has a hearty bite before she remembers her manners, and says, "Thank ya... that's awful kind o' ya. You ever need a meal, stop by the Denny's some day I'm workin'. Or I could bring ya home somethin'." Slug is given a broad smile before she digs into the danish again.
"I've got to talk to a few people about the vampire thing, and then we're going to put together a plan," Slug says. "I don't want to rush into it. I don't want to let them screw around too much, either, but at the end of the day we're at a point where a dead Garou is a big deal. Some of us are going to die, but I'd like it to be as few as possible." He snorts out a bit of smoke, then manages a dim smile. "You're welcome. And thank you. But, it's what we do. Looking out for each other, tending to our own. Sometimes it's the only thing we can do."
"Sure, but ain't no reason not to say thanks and all," Felix says, manners apparently not extending to not talking while he's eating. "Anyway, don't reckon any of us're in a real hurry to get dead. Just to get other things dead. There a lot of other stuff goin' on right now too, or mostly that?" A slight pause, and then, "I know there's Regan Hope Project, but I dunno if there's other shelters much 'round here. Or what kinda situations they got. Anything much to know?"
Lilah swallows her bite of danish before offering the rest of it back to Felix and looking to Slug. "Sometimes it is," she agrees with him, and adds, "An' I'm happy t' be a part o' that. Not just the takin', but the givin', too." She glances to Felix, looks back to the other man, and continues, "Ya need anything I can actually do, I'm happy t'help."
"Well, the vampires are picking on the homeless. Or the poor. So are a few other things, things that are big, nasty, and trouble for Garou that are stronger and tougher than I am. Stay away from the Queen's tower, and when it comes to everything else, trust your gut. If it tells you to be wary of a place or a person or whatever, listen." Slug says. He drops his cigarette into a bottle hidden away in his pocket, then reaches down into the bag to snag a roll. He takes a big bite out of it, chews it down, and grunts. "Keep an ear to the ground," he says to Lilah. "People talk, especially when they're eating. Most of the people that go to Denny's aren't exactly rich, so chances are your customers might be targets, or people that have known people that have disappeared."
Felix's eyes narrow a bit, and he rips a piece off his danish rather unnecessarily. "'course they are. Everythin' goes for what they think's easy pickings." He shakes his head, eating the piece of pastry, but blinks once at Lilah when she offers back her piece. She gets a faint tilt of the head, but he accepts it. "Queen's tower. Okay, I'll try'n keep that in mind."
Lilah glances to Felix, then back to Slug, and nods. "I'll listen real close," she promises, and does seem relieved to have something to *do,* 'minor' or not. She shoots Felix a reassuring smile, and then looks back to the other man. "Thanks for catchin' me up. I been workin' a lot lately, an' don't always hear the skinny."
"Well, poor and homeless people aren't missed. Their families don't go to the cops, because they're out of contact, or because they know the cops don't care, or whatever. Sucks, but that's why we have to look out for them. No one else will." Slug nods at the both of them and gnaws a bit more of his bread, idly chewing away. "It's ok. If you're in the know, you deserve to know what might get you killed. If you can't use brute force to protect yourself, you need to be well informed."
There's another flash of rising anger through Felix's eyes, just a flicker and gone as he glances upward as if to examine the room's ceiling and exhales some smoke. "Yeah," he says, tone calm enough someone might think they imagined that flash, "I know." He looks to Slug, then. "I may be new here, but I ain't new." He finishes off the smaller of the remaining pieces of danish, and extends a leg to poke Lilah's toes with his own.
Lilah nods her head slowly to what Slug's had to say, and for her part, she doesn't look angry or irritated. But then, she's not dealing with wacky moon effects. Lucky kin! "Thank ya," she says smoothly to Slug, and then pokes Felix with her own toes, all part and parcel of the same action. "I reckon it's important to keep an eye out all the time, but doubly-so now. Can't be on high alert 24/7, but with warning... ya can do it 24/7 short-term."
"I like to rationalize," Slug says, with just the faintest tone of apology. He finishes off his roll, palms two donuts, then stands up and tips his head to the both of them. "I'd like to stay and talk a little more, but I'm getting tired, and the moon..." Slug glances up at the ceiling, then looks down at Felix, and flashes him a grim smile. "It makes it bad to be tired. Mmmm. You all should be mostly safe here, but keep in mind it isn't exactly a secret location. Trouble might come knocking. I'm going to be upstairs, if it does."
Felix nods, and gives Slug's grim smile a crooked one in return. "It does that," he agrees. The last note gets another nod, but also a brief grin, "On the other hand, trouble's also already here, if it tries. Night, man. Rest well. Let us know if there's anythin' else we can do."
"Take care..." Lilah says to Slug, with a friendly smile and a little wave. Felix's claim that trouble's already here gets a broad grin, and she muses, "There is that." To Slug, she adds a, "Sleep well."
Slug turns and waves over his shoulder at the both of them, and ambles on toward the stairs, munching on a single donut. "See y'all in the morning. Enjoy anythin' in the bag you want, and throw the molded stuff out for the rats. Night night!"
Felix waves a hand, finishes off the danish, and twists position, falling onto the couch on his back, knees hooked over the armrest he was sitting on. He has another drag on his cigarette, and sighs, watching the smoke climb upward as he exhales it.
Without a word, Lilah moves toward the treats bag now that Slug's gone, and digs in it for a moment. She eventually comes up with a raspberry jelly donut, which is brought over to Felix and offered up. Whether he takes it or not, she settles onto the couch next to his head, though she's careful not to sit on him or his hair.
Felix accepts the donut, turning it around in his hand and looking it over. "Thanks," he says after several moments, and takes a large bite of it, right into the middle of the jam. A little bit squishes out of the filling hole and onto his fingers. It takes several seconds to chew and swallow that bite, and currently he's not talking with his mouth full.
Lilah nods as a 'you're welcome,' and watches him chewing for a moment. Eventually, she extends a hand out to carefully run it through his hair. The motion is slightly hesitant, and if he seems to dislike it, she'll pull away immediately.
Felix closes his eyes at the gesture, and given the amount of attention she's currently paying, she probably notes the faintest hint of relaxation into the touch. He licks the spilt jelly off his finger, then takes another, smaller bite of the donut. "...so how come you ain't eatin' any?" he asks, eventually.
When she sees his reaction to the touch, Lilah seems to relax a little as well. She continues running her hands through his hair, stroking his scalp and toying with the locks. She watches as he eats, and doesn't seem inclined to break the silence-- at least until she's directly asked a question. At that point, she shrugs, pursing her lips, before saying, "Ain't really in an eatin' mood." It seems that's all she's going to say about it, before she adds, "Talkin' 'bout kidnapped homeless fellas an' people gonna die while eatin' donuts, just. It don't sit right with me."
Felix considers this for the length of time it takes to finish off the donut, and a drag on the cigarette besides. "Well," he says then, "I reckon we ain't much good doin' anythin' about it or keepin' alive if we don't eat, and donuts is what we got, at the moment. ...and danishes and rolls."
"Yeah. Guess so." Lilah shrugs, then pulls away from him. A moment later, she stands up and makes her way over to the bag again, pulling out a roll. She retakes her seat next to his head, her hand slipping into his hair again as she takes a bite of the roll. She'll eat it, but she doesn't have to look thrilled with it.
Felix tilts his head into her hand, and smokes silently again for a while. He lifts his free hand after a while and reaches back to rub her calf, though the angle is pretty awkward. "Happens all the time," he says softly, "Prolly it's better out the kinda place you grew up?" It's a genuine question, but he has suspicions it is.
Her hands stroking his hair, Lilah says, "I reckon so." She gives another shrug, turning the roll slowly in her other hand. It's clear that, while she appreciates something about what he's said, there's more to it than that. Another bite later, she returns her attention to him, and manages to dredge up a bit of a smile. It's less a 'false' smile than a not entirely successful attempt at a return to normalcy. The hand in his hair slides down to stroke his cheek affectionately.
"...you're thinkin' a thing," Felix says, head tilted back a bit so he can watch her. He presses very gently into her hand when it touches his cheek, then turns his head to kiss the fingers before settling back again. "What is it?"
"I'm always thinkin' a thing," Lilah insists, and seems a little ashamed for a moment before she reasserts that smile, brighter this time but still not her usual wattage. The smile turns soft around the edges at his kiss to her fingers, and she stands up off of the couch shortly thereafter. Without another word, she kneels on the ground beside where his head rests, the better to lean in and try to kiss him. If it succeeds, he'll find it rather firm and insistent, almost desperate.
Felix watches her, quietly. "Well, yeah," he says in the moments between the words and the movement, "but what's the thing you were thinkin' just then?" And then she's kneeling beside him and there's kissing, and he kisses back, the hand that was on her calf resting on the back of her neck. There's a sense of surprise at the near-desperation of it, but it's not difficult to get similar intensity out of him in return, certainly not at this time of the month.
Lilah's eyes close tightly as they kiss, still channeling that urgency into the kiss. Her hands don't roam over his body, as they might usually, but instead cup his cheeks, perhaps as much to keep him there as to express warmth. The kiss lingers on for some time unless otherwise broken, and she shows no sign of being the one to break it.
There clearly isn't any hurry to break the kiss on Felix's part, either. He is, eventually, the one who does break it, though, with a startled yelp as his cigarette smoulders down far enough to burn his fingers. He drops it onto the floor, and sits up, dropping a leg from the armrest to crush it with the sole of his boot.
When he pulls away with that yelp, Lilah's eyes open and widen considerably, at least until she sees what caused it. She moves an inch or two away on the floor to be sure he's got room for the crushing, and then looks up at him. Her cheeks are flushed from the kiss, but beyond that, she seems fairly composed as she stands up, settling back down on the couch beside him. "Sorry," she says sheepishly, but she may not be talking just about the cigarette. Just when he's probably thinking he'll have to shove bamboo under her fingernails to get her talking, she adds with her eyes downcast, "I just... don't want it to be you." Her voice is barely audible through the mumbling, but he can make it out.
Felix shakes his hand out, and there's the ghost of a laugh once the cigarette's extinguished. When she settles down beside him again, he moves the other leg off the armrest instead of lying back down, to sit beside her and watch her better. "Nothin' to be sorry for," he replies to her apology, probably not to her great surprise, his fingers on the back of her neck again though not applying any pressure. At the eventual mumble, the arm slips the rest of the way across her shoulders and pulls her in, tipping her a bit so that he can kiss the top of her head and nuzzle her hair. "Can't rightly say as I want it to be me, neither," he replies nearly as softly, "But someday it's gonna be."
Swallowing, Lilah glances over at him before looking away again. "I know," she says simply, and that's all she says for a long span of time. She licks her lips, and eventually murmurs softly, "I do got stuff t'be sorry for. 'm sorry I brought it up. It ain't like it didn't occur to ya, I reckon, but I don't gotta rub your nose in it. An' it's-- we all got a job. We got roles t'play. Y'all gonna do yours, 'n I gotta do mine. 's my job to support y'all, an' not get all maudlin 'n navel-gazin'. So yeah. 'm sorry." She swallows again, and manages a smile once more before she leans in to kiss his shoulder.
Felix is quiet for a few moments, still nuzzling her hair. "'m sorry," he echoes. "Nothin' I can do about it, and I'm sorry 'bout that too." Another couple seconds, and he suddenly asks, "How old's your ma?"
"Nothin' to be sorry for," Lilah steals his line, and at least there's a hint of amusement for that. She presses a light kiss to his chest while he nuzzles her; when he asks about her mother, it takes her several moments to answer. Probably doing dreaded math. "Reckon she's 32, mebbe 33?" She smiles a little more, lopsidedly, and kisses his cheek this time. "I see whatcher sayin'."
"Never know," Felix says, and gives her a small smile. He brushes hair away from her face, and leans in to steal a kiss from her lips, though this one's softer and briefer than the last. "I figure we just make the most of what we got, for as long as we manage to get it. Yeah?"
Lilah does seem to have cheered up a great deal just from that simple question, and she returns his kiss just as softly. "Yeah," she says to his suggestion, and reaches out to squeeze his hand. She squishes the roll a bit in her hand before taking a heartier bite, then asks, "I think I saw one o' them fancy croissant rolls in that bag. Y'want one?"