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If you value your organs, do not post unless you are Glass Crow or Rabid Ice Weasel.

They don't call me "rabid" for nothing.

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"Spare change? C'mon, ladies, spare me somethin', huh?"

Roman put on his best "charming" face, smiling at the passing women and hoping that these ones didn't carry pepper spray. "Just need some change for my bus ride home, that's all. One dollar'll do."

The two women who were simply trying to get into the store Roman had stationed himself in front of looked at him pityingly and each threw some pocket change into the battered hat at his feet before pushing past. Roman grinned and scooped up his earnings, repeating the process of beg and recieve a few more times before he started to get bored.

"1, 2, 3, ********. Barely enough to buy lunch," he muttered sourly as he counted it out, stuffing his meager funds into his wallet. Maybe it was about time he got a job...

Or at least a better gimmick. Maybe he should pretend to have badly broken a leg. At least then he'd maybe get a free ride in the ambulance.

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Leslie walked down the road rather absent-mindedly, nearly colliding with various poles and buildings. In the crook of one of his elbows was a generic white plastic bag, overstuffed and of indeterminate origins.

His eyes casually slid over to some beggar on the street, and if for no other reason than physical attraction, began to dig a few dollars out of his pocket.

Money-filled hand raised to give, he stopped abruptly.

"You don't look crippled," he said and arched an eyebrow.

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It took every ounce of Roman's willpower not to stare at the new guy. Eyes flicked down to the money-laden hand, then up to the man's eyes with effort. He put on his best "sorry-a**" face and managed a tired smile.

"Nah, not yet anyway. Hey, man," he said politely. "Got anything to spare? I need to..."

He swallowed suddenly. He didn't feel like lying to this guy. He was bored of getting pity - he wanted conversation, dammit.

"Screw it. Y'know, I ain't gonna bother you with that s**t, thanks anyway," he said, abandoning his whipped-puppy expression and exchanging it for his normal lazy smile. "They're about to call the cops on me for loitering, might as well go in an' buy something before they do. C'mon, you hungry or somethin'?"

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Leslie laughed slightly, nervously, and shoved his money back into his pocket.

"Sure...sure, why not?" he laughed again and scratched the back of his neck. He probably would not have been so nervous had his gaydar not been setting off alarms in his head.

Frankly, he didn't trust himself.

Regardless of his thoughts, though, he pushed the door open and made a sweeping hand motion for the beggar to enter.

"The name's Leslie. Les."

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Going into the cafe like a king entering his castle, Roman grinned at the scowling people behind the counter and turned to glance over at Leslie.

"Roman. Just Roman. Pleased to meet you," he said, stepping into line and grinning wider as the cashier glared at him as though he had carried the plague into the cramped little shop.

"Hmm. Gimmee....anything four-fifty'll cover. Preferably sweet. Get to it, c'mon, let's go," he said briskly, enjoying himself. As the slightly stale piece of carrot cake was fairly thrown at him, he motioned for Leslie to cut in front of him.

"Go on 'head, I'll go get a table," he said.

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Leslie rolled his eyes and shook his head, snickering. He arched an eyebrow at the worker's glares and questioning glances and cocked his head to one side.

"Water. Just...water," he passed a couple of dollars over the counter and recieved a rather warm bottle of water.

Ah well. It was all the same to him. He turned, leading with his head as he usually did, trying to find Roman.

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Taking measured bites of his cake, Roman waved Leslie over and kicked the chair opposite him out so that the man could take a seat.

"I gotta admit, they gouge, they steal and they look at ya like you're s**t on a tennis shoe here, but they make good cake," he said, taking another surprisingly controlled nibble. He had to make this last, after all...

"So, Leslie. Or Les. Whatever you prefer," he said between bites. "Tell me, what's a gent like you doing in a place like this?"

By 'place' he generally meant the island itself - Roman wasn't particularly fond of it, but at least it stayed warm and the beach provided a good sleeping spot.

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Leslie smiled and sat in the offered seat, placing his bottle of water on the table and leaning forward to stare intently at it.

"I'll take your word for it," he said as he continued staring, "and I was shopping. I have a picky b***h at home." He raised his eyes to look to Roman, a smile slowly appearing on his face.

"And I do literally mean a female dog." His eyes flickered back to the water as something began lifting from the bottom; dissolving up in smoke-like swirls as if someone had placed a blood-red tab at the bottom of the bottle.

In less than a minute, the entire bottle of water was a deep red. Only then did Leslie uncap it and take a swig. The "water" now smelled rather strongly of copper.

"Do you usually beg on random sidewalks in the city? All the hot chicks more than willing to give you their money?"

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Roman snorted, nearly choking on a bite of cake.

"Cripes. Alright then, I thought you...meant...yeeeah. Never mind." At the question, he grinned wolfishly and shrugged. "Means to an end, man. What the hell else am I gonna do? Not good at anythin', really."

Taking another bite, he wrinkled his nose slightly and shook his head.

"You'd think they would," he said regretfully. "But hell, if they did, I'd be a rich man by now...uh..."

He trailed off, eyes widening slightly as the water turned colors. He wasn't aware his jaw was hanging open until a precious morsel of cake had dropped onto the table. Blushing and brushing it to the floor, though mentally lamenting the loss, he leaned in close to inspect Les. Roman was never one to care about appearances or any of that other complicated crap - he had neither the patience nor the attention span to deal with it. But this...this was a little strange.

"What did you just do?" he asked warily.

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"Well, I wouldn't know, having just met you an--" Leslie cocked his head slightly and looked at the bottle in his hand, as if expecting it to tell Roman the story itself.

Obviously, it didn't.

"Yanno that water-to-wine s**t?" he waggled the bottle slightly, "Water-to-blood. Not that I'm comparing myself to Jesus." He took another swig from his "water" bottle.

"My body can't handle normal stuff."

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Unceremoniously stuffing the remainders of the cake into his mouth, Roman swallowed hastily and leaned back into his chair.

"Well. Not much one can say to that..." he said mildly, licking the plastic fork for remnants of frosting. "So, I'm gonna go out on a limb and state the obvious...you're not human, o'course....if you don't mind me prying, what are you that you can turn over-priced tap water to blood?"

He hesitated, then leaned forward again.

"And who's is it, for that matter?"

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Leslie cleared his throat and looked away before turning his attention to the bottle of...blood.

"I haven't the slightest as to whose it is," he shrugged, "although Daddy will happily tell me it's the blood of Christ or whatever. Funny thing, thought he bled wine." He sighed, looking to Roman again.

"Imma...err..." he paused for a moment. There was no truly easy way to explain his being, "Yanno werewolves, right? I'm one-uh those, but a...nyeh...gargoyle." He gave a snort and chugged the remainder of the contents of his water bottle.

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Roman listened intently, nodding in fake understanding of the topic. He could honestly say he had no idea what the hell was going on here, but he hardly minded. That feeling came on a lot.

"Huh! Never heard of a were-gargoyle before. Neat," he said, gnawing at the fork in absent thought. "As for the blood...hey, whatever.. Long as it ain't from me I don't care."

Not wanting to pry further, he scratched idly at the anti-eyebrow piercing below his left eye.

"I'm..." he paused and laughed slightly. "God, I'm just me, really. Human tumbleweed wandering here and there. Occasionally thrown here and there, in case I've managed to piss someone off."

He paused, then looked up and grinned at Leslie.

"Take it from me. Never major in philosophy and expect to make a career out of it."

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"Never drank from a living thing, and good job," Leslie laughed, "Granted, that's more schooling than I've had." He eyed Roman's piercing curiously.

"Here and there? D'you mean to say you're...living here and there? You've got no...semi-permanent home or somethin'?"
Gaia Forums » GAIA Community » Barton Town (Role Play) » Series-related/Miscellaneous Role Play

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