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[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

Jack storms into the bar. He is full of rage.

Yes, that is rage you see on his face, not constipation or a really bad sunburn. RAGE.

Have at. :)

[ ooc: el warning: mun's body is slowly dragging her towards the happy land of sleep. which means she will dissappear within the next...ten minutes or so. or maybe later than that. but soon! ]

Comments

[sistersxkeeper.livejournal.com]

"You look like you're full of rage." Anna says, boredly from her seat at the bar.

Dude. Boredly is totally a word.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

And Jack ragedly sits on a nearby barstool.

Ragedly is a word, too, you know.

"I...I'm going to kill her."

[sistersxkeeper.livejournal.com]

"Who are we killing? And may I offer you a drink? I seem to buy you dinner and drinks a lot. This may be because I don't pay for them." She beams.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Give my thanks to the one who pays your tab," he says dryly, and not without humor. "And trust me, unless you want to hear a sad, sordid love tale, you don't want to know."

[sistersxkeeper.livejournal.com]

"Oh but I thrive on...sorid love tales." She idly says, as she wonders how Campbell would feel about her buying this guy stuff. With his money. "How old are you, by the way? Or is that rude?"

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Do I have breasts? 30."

[sistersxkeeper.livejournal.com]

"Hahaha. Campbell's gonna kill me. Okay. What do you want to eat-slash-drink?" She grins. "Oh and you might have breasts. Man-breasts. Never know."

Please to be remembering she's a teenager and finds all these sorts of things HI-larious.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

Jack's head snaps in her direction, green eyes full of bzuhment. Bzuhment, like boredly and ragedly, is also a word.

"I do not have man-breasts," he says sternly. "And I could probably do for a sandwich and a...a coke."

[sistersxkeeper.livejournal.com]

"Hey! I don't judge. If you've got man-breats, that's fine." Snerk.

She orders a sandwich of his liking and a coke for him. "There you go. I, Mistress Bar, will have an ice cream sundae please."

Dead kids need no nutrition!

[lethe-forgets.livejournal.com]

Well, storming certainly attracts attention - wide-eyed, cautious attention from the little nymph in the corner, to be exact.

She tugs on a curl and leans forward slightly, chewing on her lower lip. You could color her concerned ... if such things had an easily defined color.

Give her a second to get to the actual talking part, she's still pretty bad with this social interaction thing.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

Jack contunues to storm through the bar--with rage, don't forget the rage--until he spots the nymph. His color drains slightly, the way the temperature might cool slightly from 82 to 81, and waves.

[lethe-forgets.livejournal.com]

Well yes, of course. Large, vast amounts of rage. Frightening and vengeful even.

She uncurls herself and makes her way over - waving, she figures, is enough permission to allow close-range worrying.

This would be the talking part now Lethe. Good plan - something insightful, perhaps.

"A-are you alright?"

Or maybe not.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Not really," in a slight sing-song voice.

[lethe-forgets.livejournal.com]

Her fingers thread for a moment - pulling and then twisting apart - something shiny twirling idly between them. Nervous habits, she has many.

"Well, yes obviously," she tilts her head slightly at the tone, one eyebrow arcing curiously. "What has you so angry?"

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Vikki--my ex--sit down." He lifts a hand and waves it to a nearby table.

[lethe-forgets.livejournal.com]

And so she sits - obediently and without hesitation - legs tucked under her and hands folded neatly. The bit of glitter, now unoccupied, twirling onto the tabletop.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

Jack hesitates when he sees the glitter, but that's a matter between himself and Mary Anne Bell. He sits.

"She moved in next to me."

[song_tra_bong]

Rage is a new one.

Certainly gets Mary Anne's attention from her seat at the bar.

"What in hell happened to you?"

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Vikki!" he says ragefully.

[song_tra_bong]

"What did she do?" she asks, gesturing at the empty barstool next to her.

Bar gets a pat and responds with two glasses, whiskey for Jack and vodka for Mary Anne.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

Mmm, whisky. Jack takes a seat. "She's moved in next to me."

[song_tra_bong]

Mary Anne freezes, glass halfway to her mouth.

"She did what?! Did she know you were living next door?"

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Of course she did! The real estate agent told me she was positively thrilled to learn I'd be next door to her."

[song_tra_bong]

She scowls.

"Fucking bitch. So what're you gonna do?"

'Burning down her house' and/or 'killing the bitch' are the first two options that come to mind.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"I thought about killing her, but that would be cruel."

A sudden idea pops into his head. "I could always invite her to dinner." Beat. "What is your opinion of escargot?"

Hopefully it's not "EWWWW THEM'S SNAILS!" Because Jack Driscoll wouldn't want Kelly Pickler as a friend.