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The Lycan's Den



 
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Adara Doe

 

Tucked away in a privately owned five square mile tract of wooded land stands a familiar building that was built on an even more familiar, yet old, wood framed building. Although it is a few miles from the city, it is far enough away that it is rather hard for regular people to simply stumble upon the place. Those who are…different, however, will find the Den easily enough. The door to the bar, as well as the rooms upstairs and the multiple cabins built up around the main building, are always open for those that wander this war-torn realm. Any time of day or night, one can find both comfort and friends here.

 

Even though this is a meeting place created and ran by Lycans, all other races are more than welcome here as well. However, this is The Lycan’s Den and therefore certain rules must be observed. The drinking of blood in any form as well as the use of any type of magic is strictly forbidden. Any other forms of disruptive behavior will not be tolerated, and the offending person or persons will be ejected most forcibly from the premises. This is a place of peaceful fellowship, not a place for drama and senseless arguments. I strongly urge our customers not to test me on this. If you bring trouble into this bar, I will personally hunt you down to whichever city you run to and proceed to stomp a mud hole in you and then walk it dry.

 

Almost every type of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverage can be found at the bar of the Den. If at first you don’t see someone tending bar, simply call out for Tabatha (NPC) with your order and she will take care of your drinks quite promptly. If it is food you are looking for, Raul (NPC) is an amazingly talented chef for someone who is so hideous to look at. Try not to talk to him too much as he hates everybody equally, but he can prepare absolutely any non-restricted meal from the Den’s absurdly well-stocked pantry.

 

Now then, to all those who wish to come and join us in friendship and camaraderie--I, John Doe, along with my wife and co-owner Adara, bid you welcome. May our shared pain be lessened, and our shared joy increased.

January 18, 2018 06:14 pm

Derek Norse

The bar.

This is Derek's calling. He has always been meant to work here. And now, with his brother's badge (because why does he need that?), he would live the dream. Pat downs and weed, every day. Food, all the time. And booze. So much booze. Hopefully, the boss lady doesn't mind her fearless security man getting goofy on the job.

Too bad he hasn't seen any ladies that aren't married and/or without children.

Yet.

Taking his job very seriously, Derek would procure a stool near the door. Even more seriously, the man would sit in wait with a questionable cigar balanced between his lips as he puffs away and a beer in hand.

They. Would. Come.
January 18, 2018 08:29 pm

Adara Doe

It wasn’t normal for Addie to be separated from her husband; yet, leaving him in New Mexico to travel with Ella to her Colorado home for a spell seemed to be just what she needed. Refreshed, revitalized; Adara found the quiet, mountain home to be a perfect catalyst to ease back into New York and to recuperate from living far too close to her stoic in-laws for the last couple of years. It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy the time with everyone on the Reservation, nor did she not like her husband’s parents and of course, EJ was doted on completely…

Yet, at the first chance she could get away, Addie would take it; this obviously says more about her than it does anyone else, she was never one to fit into a large family like that. So, the question was, if that were true, how did she end up flying back to New York with a two-year old terror, ready to swing back open the doors to The Lycan’s Den and settle back into the routine that she had really missed.

And her real family.

A bunch of drunken crazies.

She would just have to text her husband.

Adara and Ella would not be going back South.

And that is exactly what she did.

After the plane landed and she drove upstate.

And was standing on the front stoop of the Den proper.

Little did she know that her husband probably knows her better than she knows herself; that being in that Colorado snow would mean that nothing could drag her back to the desert. None of this would cross her mind as she and Ella stepped into the warmth of the bar, even as she noticed the mouthwatering smells wafting from the kitchen or the fact that Tabatha stood behind the bar with a wary eye on the demon child that Addie was lowering to the floor.

First, it must be said, Ella was just over two years old now; bright, talkative, loved to eat and more importantly, loved to terrorize. But, she had yet to master the walking thing, so teetering precariously next to her mother like a very small Stay Puft Marshmallow Man in her many layers and slightly bulgy jacket was just about all the kid could really do; arms outstretched as her large dark eyes took in the home she hadn’t been in since she was a couple of weeks old.

Really what happened next was totally on the kid.

Not her mother.

Who was distracted by trying to lure Tab back into her good graces, so she would watch Tiny Satan while Adara saw to the cleaning of the cabins, moving of her bags being piled up at the door; normal stuff, that apparently Tabatha would be taking care of because no matter how much Adara would whine she would refuse to play nanny to the Doe’s darling girl.

The darling girl who nearly face-planted as the leg that helped to prop her up moved slightly.

Still not her mother’s fault.

Addie at least caught her before she hit the floor.

And the look of disdain on little EJ’s face was purely her mother.

Scary.

“We’re not going to tell your father about this. Wonderful thing that your vocabulary doesn’t extend beyond a handful of words and certainly none that can be put together in any way that would tell him I nearly dropped his daughter on her face.”

It would have been easy to say that he would never know, or she’d never get the chance to say it; but Addie was not a stupid woman. Careless, accident prone, predisposed to trouble… but not stupid.

Her husband wouldn’t be that far behind her; stuck like glue, the two of them were.

Three. Now three. As evident by the child dangling from her mother’s hand, saved from eating the floor but likely uncomfortable hanging in midair; and at least with Tab seeing to things Addie could unwrap the kid and get her some lunch.

While waiting for the text…

That had her cringing.

Until she noticed the man she had ran into on the way back home; the one that claimed he was a federal agent.

Sweet baby, Moses... they all needed help.

Getting Ella settled out of her heavy outer clothing and into her high chair, Raul already knowing the way he does what they expect; Addie would turn mossy orbs onto the so-called officer.

“I expect you to not tell my husband about Ella’s little… almost accident either.”

Secrets were not easy around here.

And there were probably more to be discovered, not just her own.

….as the Realm turns
January 19, 2018 12:44 pm

John Doe

As much as John liked being around his family and the rest of his clan out on the reservation there was a reason he left all those years ago. Part of it was to protect his people from himself and his actions but if he is being honest, part of it was just because he couldn’t be around people for so long.

It only made matters worse when his one buffer, his wife, decided she couldn’t take anymore either and left for some mountain privacy. It didn’t take very long at all after her departure that he decided it would be a good idea to say his goodbyes and head back to the Den.

While packing the few belongings that he had brought with him he wasn’t at all worried about his wife returning and finding him no longer there with the clan. He was quite certain that once she had had enough of Colorado she would go straight to upstate New York instead of back here to the desert. 

In anticipation of her final destination he makes sure that Raul and Tabatha will get there first and have things up and running for their return. The Den has been shuttered for a bit now and would need some serious elbow grease applied in order to have it back up to any kind of decent condition. Just refilling the freezer alone would be a monumental task for the ugly little goblin cook. John had no doubts they could handle it though, they have always come through when needed and then some.

With the help on the way to the Den and his farewells said to his family and people the man known to the Realm as John Doe boards a reserved private jet and flies non stop to a small private air strip that allows him certain travel freedoms that a normal airport can’t provide. On this trip he doesn’t have anything questionable on or about his person or luggage but it is still nice not having to deal with security checkpoints or other travelers in general.

It’s a short drive from the air field to the Den but still John is relieved that Raul had the foresight to have a car there for him so that he didn’t have to run all the way through the woods carrying his bag in his jaws. That would have been less than dignified to say the least. As it was, he was able to make good time to the Den and arrive with all of his clothes still on and in humanoid form, all of those being definite plusses.

Once inside the grand lodge that he and his wife and now their child call the Den he sets his bag behind the bar and checks the most important aspect of the entire building, his whiskey supply.

A tall glass of Jack in hand John gives a sigh of contentment, quite happy to be back home. The only thing that will improve his current situation is having his wife and child back here as well. He knows it won’t be long before they arrive though, he has a way of knowing her mind and knowing what she is going to do often before she even knows herself.  With that knowledge in mind he picks up his bag from behind the bar and heads out the back door of the Den to follow the path around the lake that leads to their actual house just past the member and guest cabins up on a small hill overlooking the lake and Den property.

It doesn’t take him long to make sure the house is in good order and is being aired out for their re-habitation. It would only take a bit of dusting, linen changing and restocking the kitchen for it to be as if they had never been away.  Luckily he knew a service that would take care of all that. It isn’t like he was going to do any cleaning, that would seriously eat into his drinking time.

 

Things have been going quite well as far as returning the Den and it’s surrounding buildings back to fully operational status and John was enjoying a bit of down time in the office just off the bar in the main building when he heard a very familiar and much missed voice. His darling wife and little demon child had finally managed to leave the solitude of the mountains and return home.

With the door to the office open he is able to hear everything going on in the main room and he can’t help but smile to himself as his wife is already soliciting their one customer to silence in a mild misadventure in parenting.  The big man certainly wasn’t worried about their child getting hurt while in her mother’s care, he had dropped the demon baby on more than one occasion without ever telling her mother a thing about it. It was rarely on her head though so he is sure that no real damage was caused. Mostly sure.

Stepping out of the office he gives his wife his most welcoming smile, and it really was quite genuine for he has missed them both immensely in the time that they were gone and was supremely happy that they had made their return.

“Really now my dearest, lets not entangle every stranger we meet with secrets and intrigue, wait until he has had a few more drinks in him at least.”

With a good natured laugh he comes out from around the bar to embrace both his wife and their satan spawn child in a very warm welcome.

“I’m glad you are back, I think I have wandered around on my own up here quite long enough for now.  You know things are always so much better when you are close.” 

January 20, 2018 01:02 am

Derek Norse

Derek grins, giving Adara what he believes to be a rather executive grin. "No worries, boss. My mom dropped me on my head a few times, and I turned out okay."

In the eye of the beholder, at least.

Naturally, Derek has zero idea who the large man entering is, but he does know that he dares not try to pat him down. Besides, he's not his style. But if he can get his lame af brother to come around... the cuffs are coming out because there is nothing more he loves to do than annoy the sh-t out of him.

And he would, usually, make it a point to introduce himself immediately. Who doesn't want to meet a handsome, charismatic, ruthlessly fun person that grows and smokes and drinks - all while on the clock? This man should be so lucky. Alas, they are having one of those tender moments Derek has heard about from the many women that have come and gone from his life.

Adverting his eyes, he raises his eyebrows and shields his face with a large hand to give them privacy. A puff of foul smelling smoke would puff up and away, and through a hearty cough, Derek's voice would be heard.

"Don't mind me. I'm just the security. Pretend I'm not here. You're doing great."
January 20, 2018 10:23 am

Tiber Loche

It's been exactly two days since Tiber arrived back onto the grounds of The Den proper, and he's already blown up a building, nearly burnt down his cabin, and broke the latch on the steel door to his misfiring kiln.

Needless to say, he was not having a great go of things. The cold weather helped to keep him motivated- thoroughly enjoying the way that the New York winds nipped at his elevated temperatures. It made working in the old shineshed that much more enjoyable.. Even though the term itself had yet to bare the full brunt of it's own weight.

Tiber, at present, wasn't in the best shape. When he pushed through the large, heavy doors of the Den, his face is peppered with black soot, bits of his beard singed off with a similar treatment evident over his shirt, jacket and jeans. Yes, the man is trying desperately to dust off his stills, working on a new brew that will help to draw in and appease the masses.

"I swear if John has drank all the whiskey already..." He mumbles, stalking his way to the bar and having a heavy hand to signal Tabatha. She, of course, rolls her eyes and mumbles something (surely inappropriate) under her breath, but Tiber pays it no mind. "Please, dear. Please. Bourbon. A lot of it."
January 20, 2018 02:53 pm

Quinn Abernathy

It had been a long, long drive from New Orleans to upstate New York. Quinn and Gideon traded off the responsibility of the wheel, stopping only for a night at a motel to sleep before taking to the road again. It would be late evening before Quinn drove them onto the property, easily finding her way to what had once been her cabin: a single room cabin with cozy, open loft overhead. The only place for privacy there would be the bathroom, and while Gideon is desperate for some rest... she is wired.

Her energy is practically electric as the excitement builds up at the prospect of being somewhere she very much considers a home. Seeing the Does, seeing the baby, even Raul is missed.

Not so much, Tabatha.

So, if only to give her husband some space and rest from her incessant chatter, Quinn showers and changes into fresh clothes before making the trek through the dark, wooded grounds to the Den proper. Gideon would join her tomorrow. Tonight, she's on her own. It feels like yesterday that she was stumbling around, drunk and fun, terrorizing everyone that crossed her path.

Quinn clears the door easily, giving the man upon the stool a strange look before coughing on the smoke he emits. Her damp hair would surely soak up the stench of wacky tabbacky. She doesn't even take look around before announcing herself, working to shrug her jacket off.

"I'm home!"

Somehow, she still manages to sound completely and utterly pleasant despite the residual coughing.
January 20, 2018 04:47 pm

Adara Doe

The new security guy would have Addie snort; clearly, something was wrong with him, but the blonde was certain it had nothing to do with being dropped on his head; this was something she was about to say to him but stopped short when her wayward husband made an appearance.

Unadulterated joy had her stop short, something that she would pay for since her daughter was more like her when it came to food; wearing food that didn’t quite reach a mouth was probably going to the fashion statement of the year. Yet, it would not remove delight on her face, at least not until John spoke; the man had a way of changing her moods and sometimes not for the better.

Adara couldn’t hide the sheepish grin that crossed over her features, her husband calling her out on secrets normally would have a blustering tone slipping free in words of denial but considering she was squished up against him before she could even utter a syllable nothing would spew from her slowly upturning lips. However, the mossy orbs that rolled heavenward, couldn’t be stopped; she certainly hasn’t change that much, nor would she ever.

First things, first.

As soon as she checks texts; from Livi. What the actual fvck… Need to text Val. Now, where was she.

“Derek, it is Derek, right? John, this is Derek. New Security. Pretty sure he’s not really a cop, I do have a nose for these things, especially considering I’m wanted in most countries. Not that they know who I am, but still…”

“Derek, this is my husband, John… don’t think you want to frisk him. Jus’ sayin’. But I’m sure you’ll have plenty to fris…”

A single brow drifted upward as she watched one their own slide into the bar; or something that used to be one their own. Jabbing a finger into her husband’s side, Addie jerked her head toward the lumbering man making his way to the bar without so much as a hello; granted, from the looks of things, Tiber might have blown himself up and wasn’t registering the other people in the Den.

And then another text. Quinn. We? Uh.

“What the actual fvck…” Not exactly what she meant to say aloud; can’t be taken back.

Who the hell is we?

Back to now, with mashed something sliding down her face, moss met the darker eyes of her husband’s before sneering and finding kinder words.

Kind of.

“You’re feeding her from now on, dear husband. Derek, that man, at the bar. Feel free to frisk him all you want, since he cannot say hello. TIBER!”

Now she felt better.

And then the clear voice of Quinn penetrated with a resounding I’m home! and finally, once again, The Lycan’s Den felt like home. Yet that WE in the text message seemed to stick in the back of her mind…

Something smelled off.

And, for once, it wasn’t her child.
January 20, 2018 04:55 pm

Tiber Loche

Okay, alright. Tiber had been blatantly rude. He skated his way into the warm and cozy gathering spot without so much as a glance in the direction of any of his friends or peers. But. Just as soon as Tabatha had managed to pour him a glass of Bourbon and the first sop hit his lips, his mannerisms shift significantly. The hard edges of his flaring temper begin to soften, and once again Tiber is a cool and mild as ever (sans for a very aggressive full moon).

The tall man turns from the bar with the whisky glass still pressed to his lip. He sips, savoring the way the flavor dances over his tongue, while his eyes travel over the bodies that either sit or move freely. Adara and John were here, thankfully. Tiber had a lot of catching up to do, and a tiny Doe gremlin to make friendly with. That Derek terror seemed to be hanging around, too; And it's just now that he starts to consider an odious stench that does not mix well with his Whiskey.

A roll of his eyes begs the start of his journey to the Doe's- all three of them. Tiber would sit in a chair just a hair closer to the fire than they, because he had wet boots to dry before he trekked back out into the snow. But his passage across the room is derailed when a familiar voice invades the air, happily exclaiming it's return.

The soft groan that left Tiber's lips accompanies a paling of his skin and the gulping of the rest of the drink in his glass.

Tiber doesn't think twice before sidelining and dipping into the kitchen. Raul was fast, but Tiber is sure he is faster.
January 20, 2018 06:07 pm

Derek Norse

Derek perks up. Finally, things are getting interesting. He listens, studying John in a way that clearly says he would never attempt to frisk this man. There is no way. No. Thank. You. First of all, the man is built like a brick sh-t house. Second of all, he is clearly of relation to the boss. Third, that must be his kid. Fourth, what the f-ck is a kid doing in a bar?

Wow. That escalated quickly.

Next comes Tiber, and he can't help but smirk. Yes, he'd met this one. Not so pretty anymore, in reality. He might be stoned, but he isn't stupid enough to not realize that Tiber runs when the pretty blond walks in.

Derek grins from ear to ear, aware that this means that this one, with no ring on her finger and none there to challenge him, would get to finally do his job.

Hah.

Standing, he takes the coat from the girl and tosses it upon his stool before pulling out the badge (read: not his badge), holding it up before Quinn's face. "Haven't seen you before, and you scared off Sloth." Derek might have raised his voice just then in hopes it would carry to the wuss in the kitchen.

"I'm gonna need you to raise your arms at your sides, feet shoulder width apart. Yep. Just like the TSA, except no funny business. Just doin' my job. Nothing to see here."
January 20, 2018 06:22 pm

Solomon King

It took approximately an hour and a half between receiving Adara’s text and the towering figure of Solomon King appearing in The Lycan’s Den doorway. An hour and a half because he’d needed about a half hour to work out a deal with one of Sonder’s members to keep an eye on a certain five-year-old, and the other hour to make the drive further north.

‘Surprised’ wasn’t quite the word to describe Solomon’s feeling upon seeing Adara’s short text. ‘We’re home.’ Well, it was about goddamn time. It had been a long and lonely stretch of time where Solomon had been almost entirely alone at the Den, at the end of which he had made the difficult decision to leave. Circumstances had demanded his departure, not only for his own safety, but the safety of someone close to him. There was safety in numbers, and there hadn’t been much of that at the Den.

The Den was the closest thing to home that Solomon had ever had since the start of his supernatural life. It had been extremely hard to leave, and now that it had reopened, he felt a bittersweet thrill. But he also had a bone to pick.

Solomon’s eyes swept the Den as the door closed behind him, taking quick note of the inhabitants. Most immediately, however, he noticed a guy (reeking of weed), and the familiar blonde head of Quinn. It took no time to realize just what was going down.

So this guy was security?

Solomon stepped up behind the pair, heavy footsteps thudding upon the old wooden floor. He reached up to lay a hand on Quinn’s shoulder.

“They’re frisking people at the Den, now? Damn. Well, kid, I think you’d better start with me.”
January 20, 2018 07:35 pm

Quinn Abernathy

A groan. Quinn looks, and immediately spots the back of a very familiar man. Opening her mouth, she barely gets out the first syllable of his name before a stranger is taking her jacket. Instantly, she is looking at the Does, unsure of what is going on. But what else is she going to do? Resist? No. Then Gideon would be mad because she got arrested and that is something they shouldn't do, on pain of death.

"Sloth? Who-Tiber?! You're calling Tiber, Sloth?! That's not very nice. Miss Addie, Mr. Doe, tell him that's not nice!"

Priorities. She totally has them.

Even still, she is doing as she is told. Her arms are held straight out at her sides, and Quinn looks down to ensure her feet are positioned just as she was told. Letting out a huff, she is about to start questioning Adara and John when a heavy hand lands upon her shoulder. If the stinky man weren't standing in front of her, prepared to pat her down, she would have just run for the hills. Better to run, than get arrested. At least if she runs, there is a chance she gets away.

Even still, she is protesting the name calling. "I didn't scare him away, officer. I swear. He's not scared of me. I'm not scary."

'They're frisking people at the Den, now?'

But the new voice, the one coming from behind her. Police be damned. Quinn spins around, because again, priorities. It takes no time at all for her to wrap Solomon up in a warm hug with a laugh of delight.

"Solbear! You're back, too?!"
January 20, 2018 08:08 pm

Adara Doe

Everything literally seemed to be happening at once; Quinn’s hello, Tiber’s odd escape, Derek getting handsy, The King coming home, and Ella, dear sweet Ella, tossing a plate in the floor. The latter, of course, causing one barkeeper to spit and sputter like a utter idiot before moving to clean the mess, this would be after Addie had removed her child from the highchair and moved toward the commotion at the door.

She would keep her mouth shut about the reaction from Tiber, at least for now, she’d get the entire story out of someone, even if it took certain torture devices that may or may not be hidden on the grounds somewhere. Not that she’d take pleasure in it, but her husband…

Well, he was a different story, entirely.

Thrusting the child toward Quinn, rather abruptly, as her pursed lips and narrowed eyes fall on Derek; it was feigned, of course, Addie totally liked the dude, but this was one blonde she didn’t want messed with.

And Sol was sorta protective.

Bless him.

“Derek, this is Quinn and Sol. Former members of our ragtag group of crazies. But forever family. Save the frisking for tiny Irish women, they'll love you.”

Or think you’re a snack. Whatever.

Dimpled grin flashed momentarily as she turned her eyes back to two of her favorite people in the entire world; not that she liked many people anyway, but Quinn and Sol were definitely beloved around the Den.

“So, what’s new with two of you?”

Right to the point.

Priorities, she had them.
January 20, 2018 09:10 pm

John Doe

Almost as soon as he and his wife disengage, with a hidden from the masses slap to her perfectly shaped backside, everything began to happen at once within the room. There were introductions and new arrivals, old friends and much missed Den family members as well as odd departures.

John didn’t know where to start as the room swirled into action which seemed disproportionate compared to the few number of people present. That was how it usually was in this place though, a few crazies doing enough for a whole crowd of regular people. Within the action taking place was the return of some of his favorite people in the Realm, people he didn’t expect to see so soon after the Den officially opened and was immensely glad for their presence.

He has hardly a chance to give a wave and nod to the new and the old who are being greeted and introduced but manages to at least make sure that they all know he sees them and hopes that his smile conveys his pleasure at seeing them there. Even as he is attempting to edge past his wife, who is giving up on force feeding the child some kind of mashed rabbit food instead of a proper steak or other suitable food, he sees the new face attempting to arrest Quinn but is soon interrupted by Solomon. This is all highly irregular and John feels the need to step in and quickly put a stop to whatever silliness is happening when further confusion sets in as Tiber makes a hasty retreat to the kitchens rather than joining the growing group on the floor.

Emotions are not John’s strong suit to say the least but even he can tell that something is definitely not as it should be between Quinn and Tiber else he would be there with them instead of braving the domain of the evil goblin. The big man is only momentarily torn between checking on Tiber and figuring out what is happening in front of him when he makes the decision to divide and conquer. Leaving his wife to handle the weirdness happening in the front of the house while he tried to work out what was happing in the back.

Taking the long route to the kitchen he swipes a bottle of Mr. Daniel’s finest from behind the bar and continues on to the double doors of the kitchen. He hopes he is in time to stop Raul from throwing too many of the good knives at Tiber before John was able to get there. Pausing at the door he takes a long pull from the bottle to prepare himself in case Tiber wishes to discuss feelings or something along those lines and with a push at the doors he leaves the happy commotion behind and enters the sanctum Santorum of Raul’s domain.
January 20, 2018 10:38 pm

Tiber Loche

There is no way that anyone can miss the sound of large knives ricocheting off of wood, metal and aluminum. Tiber has accomplished exactly what he had predicted- Flaring the temper of the perpetually angry chef in the kitchen. It's gotten to a point between the two men that Tiber doesn't even take any offense to his antics. It's just how Raul is hardwired, you see? And has a superb way of cutting down a steak... Heaven.

Tiber dodges and weaves through the islands and the countertop, his eye fixated on the exit at the other end of the kitchen. "Yes, YES Raul, I know. I KNOW." Raul continues to berate him in a language that he doesn't understand... Although he's certain he's heard Ella and Raul arguing in the same language before. It was some primitive form of satanic toddler that perhaps Raul never graduated from... Either way, Tiber doesn't exactly know what he's saying, but he gets the idea.

Alas, when he reaches the end of the kitchen, he finds that the other door is locked. Because why the f-ck wouldn't it be? This is Tiber's luck. It's exactly how everything always seems to work out for him.

Don't feel bad for Tiber, folks. He's landed himself in this predicament.

He has no choice but to mambo his way back through the maze of counters and trusty appliances. Raul continues to throw things at him- Food, utilities, the like. Tiber is about to burst his way back through the kitchen door when the large mass of John Doe enters instead, and even though Raul does not entirely desist, something about his demeanor mellows quite considerably. Maybe it's because John Doe could rip the head off of a grizzly bear.

Or something.

Tiber eyes the bottle and secretly wishes that he had grabbed one of his own instead of settling for this glass before he fled. Granted, he wasn't exactly thinking when he fled.

"John." Tiber greets him his feet nearly screeching to a halt. He's pretty sure Raul isn't going to try and chop him up with John standing here, but he can't really and so he peeks over his shoulder suspiciously with every few words that exit his mouth. "I tried to escape, you caught me. Do you always leave that door lock? Did Adara come into psychic powers since I saw the lot of you last? I swear she knew I was going to try to escape.." He mumbles, clearly foiled.
January 21, 2018 04:22 pm
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