You don't really know if it's love or not.

This set is a summary of generally any and every good texture item loshino has saved.
now time for a Roman.
 
She was out of her bloody skull.
 
"Little girl, who the hell is this?" I crossed the living room, getting into their faces.
She told me who it was. And he even stuck a hand out confidently. Cocky. I stared at his hand, and shook it. I looked him in the eyes, speaking to the girl. "You're out of your bloody skull, bringing him in here without telling me."
 
"Roman, I'm just tutoring him."
 
"'Tutoring' my arse. He's lookin' at you like a piece of meat."
 
"But he's not!"
 
"I've seen him before!" I told her where I'd seen him before. He did sports. "He can very well get help somewhere else."
"He's already here."
"You." I looked at him. "Leave."
 
He nodded submissively, reaching for his books.
"Roman, he's not doing anything wrong, what the---,"
I shot a finger at him. "Leave your shitright there. You will inconvenience yourself because you tried to snake around me." I pointed at the girl. "And his failing grade will be your fault. You didn't think I was gonna come home, did you?"
"OKAY ROMAN, WHAT THE HELL?!"
 
"If he's not gone in twenty seconds, I will throw him out." I started counting aloud down from twenty, entering the kitchen to retrieve a meat tenderizer and cut a lemon wedge. "Eleven, ten. . ."
 
I peeked around the blindspot from the kitchen to the dining room. And, what do you know. He was eating her lips off. "I WILL FUCKINGCUT YOUR TONGUE OUT, GET LOST."
 
"Yes sir." He promptly headed towards the door.
 
Diesel looked at me in complete disgust, her face bright red. "What the actual fuckinghell. Roman. What the actual---,"
"Are your lips okay? He didn't hurt you?" The door shut quietly.
"NO, HE DIDN'T / HURT / ME, ROMAN, WHY DO YOU HAVE A LEMON WEDG---,"
"CLEANSE. CLEANSE CLEANSE CLEANSE." I held the lemon wedge over her scalp and squeezed its juices. "CLEANSE. CLEANSE. MAY THE SIN BE GONE FROM MY HOUSE."
"ROMAN, WHAT SIN---OH GOD, GROSS!!"
"CLEANSE CLEANSE CLEANSE."
 
=
 
"Where are you going now?"
"None of your business."
"You're planning to go out with your hair wet like that?"
"Bye."
"Are those that guy's books? ARE YOU TAKING THEM TO HIS HOUSE?! I WANT TO TALK TO HIS MOTHER /RIGHT/ NOW."
"We're meeting at a coffee shop. Bye."
 
I didn't have anything better to do. I was going to puke the whole time, though. Thankfully the temperature was below freezing, because the ridiculous cap I wore would have stuck out. And I needed it to cover up my generally noticable hair.
 
"I'm so embarrassed. That was. He's never done that before. That was just. Very bad."
"We should have just come here first. Not a big deal."
Diesel put her hands to her face and put her elbows on the table.
"Hey, don't be embarrassed anymore. I'll offer to take him golfing and I'll be his best friend."
 
HA.
 
Diesel's phone went off.
"Who's that who just texted you?"
"Huh? Oh. Some foster kid of my cousin. He doesn't live with us anymore, but he still lives here."
"What does he want?"
"I don't know."
 
They sat in silence for a minute.
"Thanks for tutoring me." he reached across the table and rubbed her forearm. "I'm getting to know you better."
"Well you already kissed me so. . ."
"I should kiss you every second of the day."
 
The flimsy coffee cup collapsed under the cringe of my hand. Luckily I drank most of its contents.
 
"Look, I want you though."
"You've made that obvious."
 
I was going to puke, so I got up and went home.
 
=
 
I thought it was going to be okay. I went to bed that night, just like any other night. I didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. And I hope that Sinter wasn't either.
But we receive a phone call at almost 4 in the morning.
 
It was Sinter's cell phone that rang. I woke up immediately, and it took her two rings to gain her bearings.
"Roger? . . . What?? . . . What?. . . . w h a t . . . . . . /w h a t/. . . ."
"What? What is it?"
"We'll be there in ten minutes." Sinter kicked the sheets off, swearing. "We need to call Hamner."
"Wh-why?"
"Jury fuckedup."
 
=
 
I pulled up in the driveway, leaving the car idle. I saw Vance kicking a soccer ball in the lawn with a friend of his from school. I heard their conversation as I entered the mansion, with a collapsed cardboard box in my hand.
 
"--and you went to primary school with him?"
"Yeah. All throughout middle school we all thought he was gonna be a wife-beater. . ."
"Christ. Hey, Roman."
 
I went straight to Roger's office. Kit was hovering a file cabinet. "K, can you please set up this box while I find Jury's room number?"
 
She glided across the rug to take the cardboard from my hands. "What is the box for?"
"His shitt."
"Where are you taking it?" She handed me the box.
"We're sending him back to Detroit."
"Oh, are you?"
 
I didn't answer her. I found the room and threw open the door. I first emptied out the top two drawers of the dresser. I dumped all of the things from the dresser top into the box, then opened the last two drawers. I took the clothes from the second to last, and when I got to the bottom, the shirt that was folded neatly at the top was a white t-shirt that said "Bears" on it. There were bloodstains on the neckline, and the cloth was dingy. I remembered what the stains were from. I even remember Sinter screaming at me because she couldn't get the stain out.
 
It was my fault. Jury and I were play-fighting, and my elbow connected with his nose. "Good fuckingshot." Jury had said, punched me in the shoulder and tiredly said, "I'm beat."  
 
My eyes wandered around the room, and I leaned against the dresser in disbelief. I looked at the stray articles of clothing and crumpled papers about the floor, shaking my head. 
 
=========================
Don't know what else to put here k thx bai
lolo out

Lolo wrote this because pickles.
 
9/22/2012
 
Stainless Steel.
 
Roman gives Sinter his seat as they sit in the waiting area. The fluorescent lights and the scent of stale sanitation makes the office all too normal. Sinter scratches out information on a clipboard, and Roman sighs too often and too loud.
 
Sinter crosses the waiting area to hand the receptionist the, perhaps sixth, clipboard she's filled out in the visit. She knows this woman. "I'm sorry about Roman's obvious patience, Ms. Henry. You know that he's a very patient person."
 
The nice woman nods her head. "He's always been oh so very patient."
 
When Sinter returns to her seat, she takes a few glances at pictures and informative signs in the room - she then remembers why she was so nervous earlier, and starts fidgeting with her clothing. Her eyebrows furrow and her heart sinks. "How do you think he's doing?" She looks over at Roman.
 
He wrinkles his nose, crossing his arms. He, too, had been pulling on his clothing. "I think he's fine."
 
They've discussed their concerns. They've spoken with the physician.
 
The thirty-minute period of fidgeting and blank glances through magazines felt like an hour; until Ms. Henry finally called their attention. "I believe Harold and Jerimiah are ready for you two."
 
Sinter stands, huffing in relief. Everything seemed to have gone smoothly. She led the way, Roman guiding her with a comforting hand at the small of her back.
 
The examination room was brighter, and much more spacious. The walls were a pale blue, but almost green - just enough to seem even more friendly than the staff was. The physician greeted and shook Roman and Sinter's hands. "So this is Roman?" the fit man, whom Sinter was also familiar with, asked her.
"I don't particularly show him off too often." she remarked quietly. She noted Jury sitting in a chair in the corner, playing on his phone. "How'd it go, Jury?"
 
"Meh."
 
Sinter looked back to the physician, "He didn't give you much trouble, did he?"
 
The physician pushed his glasses up his nose. "He likes one-worded sentences."
Roman sputtered. "Oho, once you get to know him, he doesn't shut up."
 
Jury puffed from his corner.
 
"We will have the full results of the MRI in a few hours. But might I ask to have a short conference with you two, now?"
 
The couple nodded their heads. Jury let himself out of the room. Sinter called to him, "Don't give Ms. Henry a hard time, Jury. She is a hard working woman who's been here for years."
"Eh."
 
Harold Steiner was Sinter's pediatrician when she was younger. He was currently in his late forties and had salt and peppered hair. He had a clean, shaven face, and took care of his body. "Now, it has been made clear why I first wanted to give him an MRI."
 
"Yeah." Roman clasped his hands in his lap.
 
"Because of his lack of medical history, even after what he went through, I would also recommend he see a psychiatrist." he offers Roman a folder.
"Yes, we've been looking for one, and we've considered seeing someone Roger has recommended." Sinter says.
"Well, Roger will know who's good." Harold pushes his glasses up his nose.
 
-
 
Roman shuts the door behind him, rubbing his hands through his drenched scalp. "It's raining monkeys out there." He finds Sinter sitting with Diesel at the dining room table. "What's going on?"
 
Sinter clasps her hands. "I was actually just about to tell Diesel why Jury has to go see a psychiatrist."
 
"Oh." Roman gives a playful smile. "He's a loon, that's why."
 
Sinter gave an ugly look. "That's not really something you should joke about, Roman. Don't say something like that."
 
"You're right. Sorry." He kisses Sinter's forehead, taking his book from the table and entering the bedroom to read.
 
Back in the dining room, Sinter proceeds in her explanation, in Serbian. "You of course know that he had gone through many families, and he's been with us for a good six months now. I'm actually genuinely suprised about how well he's been acting."
 
Diesel pushes a pencil around on the surface. "He's rude to me."
"Yes, he's rude, but he doesn't cause a lot of trouble. His social worker mentioned how he might do that. I'm sorry."
Diesel gave a shrug. Sinter continued explaining. When Sinter finally got to the point, Diesel was confused. After Sinter clarified, Diesel found herself crying. She now knew to take it easier on Jury - because it wasn't like she hadn't been doing that to begin with.
 
Weeks went by, and Jury attended multiple sessions with his psychiatrist. Sinter and Roman found him to be surprisingly cooperative about /going/ to his sessions, the first month or two.
 
Roman was drinking coffee, and Sinter was buttering toast. It was a Saturday, and Jury had left to walk to his psychiatrist, not only five minutes before.
 
"Has Hamner said anything about his fear of riding in cars?"
 
Sinter unplugged the toaster. "He says he wants to look into that, but for now, he wants to focus on the really important things. He does fear that that might contribute to whatever happens one day, if he may," Sinter had a painful hesitation in saying this, "in Hamner's words, 'crack,' though."
Roman winced and shook his head. "The poor kid. At least he's proven to not be schizophrenic or anything."
"Yes. It's a good thing."
 
-
 
Roman, Sinter, Jury, Borden, and Nathan were getting fired up for a session of Monopoly. They had the pieces scattered all over the table, and Borden was organizing the money - everyone else would play, while he was banker.
 
It was 9:30 in the evening, on a Tuesday. Diesel was preparing an evening slice of toast before she headed off to bed. When Roman and Sinter asked her if she wanted to play, she said she had exams in the morning. She wore satin pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt, clutching a teddy bear. Roman asked, "Who got you that teddy bear?" And, before she could answer, "Your boyfriend? Why haven't I met him? Or did Jury get you that? Is he your boyfriend?"
"-WH-NO I DIDN'T, SCREW OFF, R---,"
"Jury, I told you, you cannot touch her, or I'd snap your little neck."
"--WHA I DIDN'T WHAT TH---,"
 
"I got that for her." Borden said, pushing the dice towards Roman. "The bank is all set."
 
Diesel nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yeah. Borden got it for me. Went out to eat and he got me it in one of those claw machine things." She watched the first few rolls. Sinter asked her once more if she wanted to join. She said, again, that she had exams.
 
-
 
"It's nice to see you again," Sinter shook his hand. "Doctor Hamner, it's been a few years."
 
"It's good to see you too. How is Jerimiah?" Gregory Hamner was in his late sixties. His hair was completely grey, and he had a thick build. A very nice man.
 
"Oh, getting into trouble."
"As I predicted. Now, about Borden. Roman briefly explained to me how he. . . How he /found/ him. But Borden didn't actually tell me. . . much. He didn't talk much at all." Hamner chews on his pen.
Sinter furrows her eyebrows. "Yeah. I'm. . .I'm glad Roman found him in. . . time."
 
Doctor Gregory then cleared his throat, proceeding to cover more basics of his quick session with Borden. "I told him this was his second session and that he didn't have to start talking about much yet. He seems willing, once he gets more comfortable. Does he talk to you, or Roman?"
Sinter nods. "He has a partial attachment to Roman. I think it's because he found him. He trusts Roman the most."
"Does your cousin still live with you?"
"Yes."
"How's their relationship?"
"Diesel is courteous and helpful to him. He's grateful."
"And your other foster children? Does he speak with them?"
"We have two right now. They're rather cynical and sharp, so I told them not to be rude to Borden. I also told Borden to avoid them for right now. Just until Roman and I get to know his stability better."
 
Hamner nodded. "From my experience, a boy like this may take some time. He won't be as easy to figure out as Jury was."
"Jury was pretty difficult, though. He still is."
"That's because Jury is smart, and he knows how to throw you and Roman off." he clicked his pen. "Borden is smart, but he isn't doing this on purpose. This will be more of a challenge."
 
-
 
The large redhead looks over the flustered brunette, who has her hands to her eyes in frustration. Jury struts out of the kitchen.
 
"Hey, kiddo." Roman leans next to her at the table. "You see how he's shirtless all the time? Quick, get up, come here." he's tapping her shoulder, beckoning. She gets up tiredly, and follows him. The large redhead stands in front of the fridge with a memo and a dry erase board magnetized to its surface, and points for the brunette. "Next time he harasses you in the kitchen," he whispered, "push his torso against the cold stainless steel. See how cold it is?" he put a hand to the steel, motioning for her to do the same.
 
The brunette sighs, turning to sit back at the table. "Roman, I've done that already. He started harassing me more."
 
Roman stops her from going back to the table, "You've shoved him against the stainless steel fridge?"
 
She moves away from his hand, "Yeah. Whenever he had his shirt off."
 
"What time of year did you do that?" The brunette's pause answers his question. "You have to do it now. It's winter time." The brunette connects the dots as Roman continues to speak. "The house is cold. So the outside of the fridge is cold. Touch it." the both of them did so. "See? Just fuck with him like that. Take icecubes and shit and drop them down his shirt when he's wearing one and run away before he gets you back."
 
The brunette goes to take a seat at the table. "But he'll get me back another time."
 
Roman jumps. "It's worth it." He had rested his arm against the fridge for a cold second too long.
=========================================================================
I really like being the banker in a game of Monopoly.
The two sections mentioning Borden - the monopoly one and Sinter's meeting with Hamner, are out of order. Obviously the meeting happened before Borden would be comfortable enough to play Monopoly with everybody. Just making that clear.

This was first a Lounge set but I changed the calligz so its Luc
ty Chono for this set
 

Luc brought his hand to the back of Thalia’s neck and massaged the sides. “Goddammit do not ever do that again.”
 
Thalia puffed smoke at him. “What the fuck are you talking about? It was only two minutes. I was getting drinks.”
 
Luc puffed his cigarette. He had his eyes on the road that was lit only by his headlights. Thalia had her arm propped on the window and her head resting on her hand. She suddenly brought her head up. “Greil, did you see that?”
 
“See what?” the life-god ducked his head to get a peek out of the windshield.
 
“Just. Just pull over and turn the car off.” Luc pulled onto the shoulder (or the grass) of the long road that passed through woodland in Eastern Canada. Thalia reached under her seat and retrieved a handgun and a magazine from the glove box. “I saw. I thought I saw a human figure. Above the trees.”
“In the air?”
 
Thalia looked across the dark car to Luc, who was loading his gun too. “Yes.”
 
“I can feel a presence.” He clicked the flashlight, finding the case of sucostrin (tanx @shiiloveswaffles for teaching me what that was) darts. “Start heading back that way. Be careful.”
 
“What are the odds?” Thalia muttered as she put her cigarette out on the tire.
 
“Hrmfjfmfmfm.” he said. When he caught up to Thalia, many meters behind the car, he lead the way into the trees. “I can /deffffinitely/ feel somebody here.”
 
“I can’t ever feel anything.”
 
Luc looked back at his wife’s silhouette, and smiled. “That’s because you barely have any Shinigami in you. Hold the flashlight. Let’s be a little quieter.”
 
Luc nodded subtly as they progressed even further through the pitch-black woods ---- what /were/ the odds of driving by a Shinigami in the middle of Canadian woodland? Luc, luckily being majorly life-god (he wasn’t even sure how much now, because of his situation and what happened to his abilities six or so years before - long story short, he’d once been full life-god but he lost his physical form, and when he got a physical form once again he didn’t have all of his life-god abilities. He still had his wings and a few perks.) had slightly enhanced eyesight - he could see in the dark better, and he was able to notice the fresh damage on the trees. “Was it about this far back? That you saw it? Do you see the damage on the trees there?”
 
“Yeah I see the damage.”
 
Luc handed Thalia his gun and the dart tube. “I’m going to go up there. Cover your ears.” He removed his jacket and his shirt, and stepped behind a large sycamore tree. He still could not get used to the sickening sound his wings made when they ripped from the flesh on his back. He also hated to remind Thalia about the extreme pain it caused him as the muscles in his back ripped out to form the bones of the wings and new muscle tissue grew in at a rapid pace to replace the muscles that went missing just seconds before. He knew that his wings were meant to come out and stay out, but he wasn’t able to keep them concealed because of their large size. Losing his original life-god form and having another physical form created caused a lot of problems, such as the defect with his wings.
 
“Are you covering your ears?” Luc asked. “You should sing.”
 
“Are you sure it’s a good idea? Doesn’t it make you weak? We might lose them if we don‘t hurry…”
 
“Cover your ears, please, Thalia.” Without another second in which he could think twice to spare, he inhaled deeply and kept his lips shut and teeth clenched with every ounce of will he could.
 
“So they say, they say in heaven there’s no husbands and wives…. On the day that I show up they’ll be completely out of their forgiveness supplies. And I can’t use the telephone to tell you that I’m dead and gone.. So you won’t know…” he heard her walk a few trees down.
 
The typical searing pain that surged from his shoulder blades to the back of his thighs made its course, and the skin on his clavicle tore open, just as it always did for no apparent reason. He could do nothing but growl profanities as he sunk against the base of the tree to his knees. He felt blood drip down his chest and down his back, seeping into his jeans. His body hunched forward, locked this way until he felt the tissue in his back stop moving. With a final scream of pain, he was able to move his shoulder blades and arms. The sounds of the flesh sloshing and smacking echoed in his head, and he brought himself to stand.
 
“Thal? You close by?” he called.
 
“Yes.”
 
He took his handkerchief from his back pocket and tried to dab first the blood down his torso (which he only smeared) and the blood he felt at the base of his back. He expanded the large, new appendages that extended to his left and right, and shook out the bright, white feathers that were smeared with his blood. He coughed, knowing that this certain recall of the wings took a strong toll on his body - more than ever before. Blood continued to drip down his chest, and he knew that the efforts of the handkerchief in censoring the moonlit carnage were futile.
 
“Stay nearby.” After first stretching them as far as he could, he shot up several meters to the first layer of the canopy, investigating the broken branches. He stuck close to the trunk, making sure not to push his strength too far. He noticed darkened spots on the trunk that he could smell - blood. “There’s Shinigami blood up here.”
 
“How do you know it’s Shinigami blood?” Thalia called from the ground.
 
“It reeks.” Luc swooped to a different damage site. He found more darkened spots. It wasn’t the same blood. “Shit, Thalia. There’s LG blood up here too.”
 
After going through different damage sites in the canopy, finding more life-god blood, and even more Shinigami blood, and also looking at the dirt patterns on the ground, Luc called down to Thalia. “There was a fight.”
 
“I could have told you that. Can you track it?”
 
He answered when he got to the ground, next to his wife. “Yes. There’s a clearing that I’d like for you to wait at.”
 
She looked at his blood-smeared body in the moonlight, and she sucked air through her teeth. “Greil, are you…. Is that safe?”
Luc waved his hand. “It’s okay, we’ll just---,”As he was taking his wife’s hand, there was a loud explosion.
 
“What was that?”
 
“Shit. Stay here.” He shot up to the top of the trees, and there was a large fire, coming from the direction of the road. “SHIT.”
 

 

 

 
After retrieving his wife from ground level, they reappeared from above the trees and found their car in flames. Thalia did nothing but swear. Luc found blood trails leading to the woodland on the other side of the road. He pursued these tracks once he was able to salvage his singed wallet and burning hot facility keys and chain whip from the flames. “Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck ow those are hot.”
 
There was nothing they could do about the car. Luc looked closer at the blood trail. “They went this way.”
 
“Do you want me to stay here?”
 
Luc took his lip between his teeth, and handed her the facility keys and his wallet. “Yes. Keep your gun close.”
“Be careful.”
 
He gave a laugh. “I’m not going to leave you stranded here.” He kissed her forehead taking the darts and his gun. He tucked his still hot chain whip into his back pocket. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
 
As he shot through the trees, following the sight and scent of the blood, the temperature of the substance on the ground grew warmer and warmer the further he went; the closer he was getting to who he was chasing.
 
After a kilometer, the sounds of the battle grew closer. Then, two figures in the dark were throwing themselves at each other with incredible forces. Luc landed on the ground softly, and watched from where he stood.
 
In the moonlight, two figures, one with large, white wings much like Luc’s, and one with wings akin to a bat’s (much like a Shinigami), had each other by their arms. Luc was able to feel the power the life-god held - and he realized the Shinigami was getting their ass handed to them. He wanted to step in for two reasons:
1) it was his job to protect Shinigami. 2) He wanted to know what provoked the issue between a fellow life-god and a Shinigami.
 
In the moonlight, Luc was able to gather that the Shinigami was about 17-21 years in age, and he was AT LEAST half-shinigami because he had wings. The life-god was about the same age too, perhaps younger. His face was expressionless as the Shinigami struggled. There was no dialogue between the two.
 
“Shit,” Luc thought to himself. “It’d be really nice if Transcendent were here right now.”
 
He very well knew his gun wouldn’t be of any use, and the dart gun would be difficult to utilize because he wouldn’t get a very clear shot.
 
He scratched his forehead as he watched the Shinigami sink to his knees, practically unconscious. The life-god raised his hand to deliver a blow, but a wild Luc appeared and used chain whip. He thought it was still a little hot.
 
“Hey. Can we stop this, please?”
 
The life-god, who had bright blue eyes and light blonde hair in the moonlight sneered at him. “You’re very human.”
“Don’t worry about that. Why are you about to KILL this Death-god? You‘re a life-god, aren‘t you?”
 
This life-god winced at the word “kill,” and tried to pull his hand from the chain. His struggles allowed Luc to confirm that he was 20 years of age or less.
 
“Don’t call me a life-god.”
 
“What’s your name?” Luc tightened the chain, and brought the life-god closer. The Shinigami boy was still on the ground, panting.
 
The life-god didn’t talk. Luc became irritated. “Okayyyyyy.” Luc pulled the chain towards him, grabbing it at a distance so he could sling the chain around the life-god.
 
“Why are you trying to restrain /me?/”
 
“Dear Death-god,” Luc said, ignoring the blonde, “why were you fighting this boy?”
 
The Shinigami was lying on the ground now. Luc scratched at his head. “We’re in a pickle.”
 

 

 

“Too fucking bad our phones got burned up, huh?” Luc touched down next to the burned car, where Thalia sat criss-cross. He had one boy in each arm. “Good thing I memorized Gabby’s number, though.”
“GREIL! YOU’VE - YOU’VE GOT THEM!”
 
The Shinigami moved in Luc’s awkward grasp, turning to look at Thalia. “Thalia Franco--” Luc dropped him on the ground before he could finish the name.
“You leave her the fuck alone or I will stomp on your genetalia and rip your wings from your back six times over - it’s happened to me; I know what it feels like.”
 
“Is that the life-god?” Thalia pointed at the blonde, who was still wrapped in Luc’s chain.
 
“The fucker is heavy. I love how wings totally defy the laws of matter.” Luc thought about dropping him on the ground, but he acted against it. “I still haven’t figured out why they were fighting - or their names, better yet.”
 
Thalia scratched her nose. “Your chain still works?”
 
“Well, it’s Gabby’s old chain. Let’s go find a phone so I can ask her to pick us up.
 
=======
 
fuck it if it’s cheesy have another update motherfucckers

a Sinter at 3:30 in the morning because why not
8.16.12
 
Sinter had a mouth full of salad when Diesel answered her phone after six rings.
 
“He-ello.”
 
“MmmffrrrDarie, hold ern,” when she finally swallowed, she spoke in Serbian. “I needed to talk to you. Did grandmother Iksabella’s best friend ever harass you?”
 
She cleared her throat very quietly. “Harass me? Which one?”
 
“Her name was Miljana. It was one of her old hag friends.” Sinter pushed her fork around.
 
“Oh. She was not very ‘miljana’ at all. Sh-she pinched my face a lot.”
 
Sinter then looked at the papers spread out around her salad. “She called me, bitching about some unfair trust funds that grandmother Iksabella didn’t secure to her.”
 
“Isn’t she like… five years late on that?” Diesel was coughing. “You settled the funds right when she died.”
 
Sinter recalled her swift process in pulling the folders from their place in the desk and reviewing the information. She felt like a professional. “I see. No, I was just telling you she called me claiming that grandmother Iksabella had some debts to her, which is bull.” Sinter took a few bites of her salad, waiting for
Diesel to respond. After a minute, “Darie? You there?”
 
“Hn? Yeah. Hey, listen, I’m going to be staying at Bryant’s house a few days, okay?”
 
Sinter almost gagged on the fork in her mouth. “Wh-what do you mean you’re going to stay at his house for a few days?!”
 
Diesel inhaled sharply. “Shh, Roman is going to hear you!!”
 
“Roman took the boys out to eat. Darie, you…. You can’t stay there a few days. You need to finish unpacking, Darie. Why are you staying there?”
 
“H-he’s….” her cousin gave a small cough. “He’s having some troubles with his mom. She hasn’t.. returned from Switzerland yet and he’s worried. I think I intercepted the call when she.. When she said she wouldn’t be coming back and I didn’t tell him..anything.”
 
Sinter squinted at nothing in the room, upset with the brutal lie she was hearing. “Are you serious? Darie, girl, how.. Do you think I’m stupid?”
 
“No, Saskia I’m serious! I do-on’t think his mom is coming back! He’s---he had a panic attack earlier.”
 
“Where is Bryant now?” Sinter couldn’t finish her salad anymore.
“He went to soccer practice.”
 
Sinter was scratching at her forehead. She pulled at her ponytail, taking it down. She was still squinting at nothing. She couldn’t help but feel guilt - guilt of not being more strict.
"Do you need me to drop off anything?"
"N-no! It's fine."
 
Sinter's squint narrowed. “I just….I mean…. be responsible, okay?”
“Yes of course! Please don‘t tell Roman.”
 
Sinter put a hand to her cheekbone. “If he comes looking for you, I’m not defending you nor ratting you out.”
 
“Ok.”
 
With just a few more awkward words of care, Diesel hung up on Sinter. “Something cannot be right.. Well.. She said Bryant thinks his mother is missing.. That‘s not right either….”
 
=====
 
“NATHAN. GET YOUR ASS IN HERE.” Sinter looked at the orange paint that was splattered in the sink.
 
“Yeessss Sinter?”
 
“Explain this!”
 
The curly haired kid‘s mouth flattened into a line. “I was doing crafts--,”
 
“Now that’s a load, YOU’RE TWELVE YEARS OLD, YOU SHOULD BE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES.”
 
“I was going to put paint on the new kid’s doorknob.”
 
“Now why would you do a foul thing like that?”
 
Nathan shrugged, looking at the ground. “Establish some authority.”
 
“Well the kid Roman is getting is THIRTEEN years old. She will have seniority over YOU.”
 
Nathan’s eyes lit up. “A GIRL?!”
“HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHNO. I KNOW YOU’RE A LITTLE PEEPING SHIT.”
 
Nathan sneered at Sinter. “I’ll clean the sink.”
 
“Do it swiftly.”
 
=====
 
Borden leaned forward in his seat. “Yeah! And it was the d’umbass chief of police!”
 
“Well that’s splendid, Borden. I’m glad your first case went so smoothly.~”
 
Roger pushed his glasses up his nose. “That will be all Borden. Again, congratulations.”
 
The perky blonde bounded out of the office, and Roger turned back to Sinter. “And you said Roman was going to get another foster child? Should you have gone?”
 
“You know, I should have…..I hope he isn’t an arse to him during the trip back.”
 
Roger was nodding. “Great. Sinter, thank you for all the work that you’ve done. Thank you for Borden.”
 
“Oh, that was Roman.”
 
The two didn‘t speak for a moment. “I don’t know if your cousin told you this, but Jury has gotten into trouble recently.”
 
Sinter nodded. “The person he injured is not taking what happened very well. I’m concerned about his health actually. Diesel said that he thinks his mother’s gone missing.”
 
An expression of apathy passed over Roger’s features. “Well we do have trackers here, if he should ever need one.”
 
==
 
“Hey punk.”
 
The kid with the black hair turned to see who was addressing him. He gave a sneer and turned back to what he was doing at the fridge. “Ew.”
 
Sinter smacked him in the back of the thigh with the top of her foot as he leaned forward, and he gave a cry as he lost balance. “Punk. Is that anyway to talk to me?”
 
“What do you want?”
 
“I wanted to talk to you, punk.”
 
Jury decided on a candy bar that was lodged in the back of the fridge. “What? Will you stop calling me punk.”
 
“Stop being so rude, punk.” She approached him from behind quickly, getting him in a headlock and sticking her foot in his stance so that he couldn’t move. She pulled his head back by his hair, and looked at his eyes.
“OUCH THAT’S MY HAIR--”
“Hm, punk. You’re not tripping anything right now. That‘s good. Keep it that way.”
“WOW. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.”
 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
IT’S OKAY DEEDEE GURL ROMAN WILL SLICE THE SHIT OUT OF THAT MOTHERFUCKKER BRYANT
 
shit I don’t remember the ages of nathan and joseph
 
THANK YOU WHOEVER MADE THIS SET
broshino I'm gona put this in the collection already
@loshinoshinashitroid

Rohak
 
A smirk spread across his features as a black-haired boy entered the kitchen.
"Heard there was a drug search, druggie." Roman snickered as he swivled back and forth on the bar stool. "Did you get cut-off?"
 
The black-haired boy continued with his intended actions in the kitchen, not taking notice. Roman continues to be rude. "Where'd you hide it?"
 
Jury had first entered the kitchen and had taken a glass from the cupboard. Now, as he pressed his glass to the ice dispenser, he cursed as the vaccum pulled nothing. "Sonuva---,"
"Diesel tells me you've been running around with an older woman."
"Fuck off, Roman."
===
The kid with the curly hair clears his throat. "Are we moving houses, Roman?"
 
The large ginger taps the steering wheel. "Yeah. It's a pain in the ass."
 
"Why, are we moving, Roman?"
"It's closer to you and Nathan and Diesel's school. And there's more room, Joe."
 
"How many boyfriends does Diesel have?"
"........What?"
"How many boyfriends does she have?"
"Joseph, you're not telling me you're trying to get with her?"
"She takes a liking to /younger/ men."
"Dude you're eleven." Roman shook his head, bewildered. He chuckled half chuckled and half fought the urge to smack the shit out of the kid. Besides, Bryant was almost four years older than Diesel.
 
"Well those guys that always come by the apartment looking for Diesel -- who were they? Vance? Jurden? And Brian?"
"Vance is cool. And Bryant is growing on me."
"The third?"
"Jury?"
"I guess."
"MAN, FUCK HIM."
 
The boy was quiet in his seat for a moment. Just as the ginger reached to turn on the radio, the boy blurted, "I SAW JURY AND VANCE SMOKING WEED TOGETHER."
===
"Roman, you really need to calm down."
"These kids are fucking RE,TARDED."
"That's not a proper word."
"THEY ARE. THEY REALLY, REALLY ARE."
"Well we all know Jury is... But Vance?" The ginger's girlfriend adjusted the slipping strap of her blouse. She stirred coffee and handed it to the ginger.
===
Roman tapped his knuckles on the door.
"Come in." the older kid said.
 
Roman calmly turned the handle, and opened the door. He saw Vance and Jury sitting on the floor, with x-box controllers in their hands. He cleared his throat. "I've recently been informed, that you two dumbshits were partaking in stupid behavior."
 
The two looked at eachother --- Vance's expression was clueless, Jury's was apathetic.
Vance began, "Well, I mean video games are---,"
"Shut your fucking mouth, pretty boy. I need you to step outside."
"Wh-this is my room---,"
"STEP THE FUCK OUTSIDE."
 
Vance shrunk back, then slowly stood up and scurried out of the room.
"There's a testosterone overload in the air...." Roman heard Vance mumble.
 
Jury didn't even look up as Roman approached him. "You need something, tuffness?"
"Say that again, scrawny boy?"
Jury looked up. "You need something?"
"You want to scrap?"
"/WHAT?!?/"
 
Then, Roman picked Jury up by his shirt. He was surprised that he wasn't shirtless.
"R-R-Roman, I'm not fighting you."
"Why, because I can kick your ass?"
"OF COURSE NOT."
"FIGHT ME."
 
So, Jury threw two jabs and a hook at Roman. Landed all three of them. The ginger smirked and tilted his head to crack his neck. "That's all you've got?"
"Well, I mean---,"
Then, Roman began to beat the snot out of Jury.
 
He first took him by his shirt, and flung him into a wall. Jury got his narrow elbow into Roman's solarplexes, but from there, Roman grabbed his arm and threw him into the wall again. Jury was next put into a headlock, and Roman socked his stomach.
 
Between grunts and moans, Jury said, "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS?"
 
Roman took Jury's hand and made him hit himself. Hard. First in the neck. Then the ear. Then in the left eye, exceptionally hard. Then the cheekbone. The mouth. The cheekbone.
 
Jury was panting as Roman threw him on the ground. Roman said, "Eh, you boys need to be roughed up now and again." Roman's breathing was fast, but he inhaled and exhaled two rounds deeply, which brought it back to normal. "Damn I'm getting old for this."
 
Roman offered a hand to the panting, bloodied teenager, who ignored it. Roman's breathing had sort of picked back up again, but then a hand was put on his shoulder.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU----,"
 
---Roman inhaled extremely fast, slipping his shirt off of his torso in one swift movement, then turning to clock the fuck out of Vance, square in his pretty little face.
(much like so: http://imgfave.com/view/2067657)
 
"OH WHAT THE FUCK." Vance held his nose as he sat on the ground and rocked back and forth. "OWWWWWHOOOOO FUCKING A."
 
Then, a comment from the door. "C-C-C-COMBO BREAKER!!!!!!!!!!"
The ginger looked up calmly to the doorframe to see the large blonde with the Green Lantern shirt. An expression of genuine terror wiped the blonde's face, who then hauled ass.
 
Roman cleared his throat. "Rub some dirt on it."
===
A shrill cry came from the other side of the apartment.
"GET THE HELL OUT, YOU DAMN PERVERT." It was the girlfriend's niece.
 
The girlfriend rushed to that side of the apartment, the ginger in tow. "Diesel?? Are you okay??"
 
The eleven year-old with curly hair rushed past the couple. The niece clutched a bath towel around her, and her eyes were aflame. She chucked her hairbrush after the kid. "I WILL STAB YOUR EYES OUT. I WILL POISON YOUR FOOD."
 
Luckily, the ginger snatched the kid by his shirt collar, yanking him backwards. He smacked him in the back of his head. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"
The kid said nothing.
"Go fucking wash the dishes."
=============================================
Roman and sinter foster two children - Nathan and Joseph. Dunno if they're related to eachother, doesnt matter

Lolo be posting this.
 
Name: Declan Friday Jensen (the band straight across)
Alias: Friday / F
Age: 23
Date of Birth: Uhh. Sometime in June or July. I'd have to look. e___e It's the same as Squeaky's. Sooo. Uhh.
Hair color: White, because he's albino. But nowadays he normally dyes it brown or black.
Eye color: Uh. Pink? Red? White?
Story: Friday grew up as a misunderstood delinquent. His family is very wealthy. He never was an orphan. He ran away from his home in Ireland, though, when he was sixteen. He lived at the Wammy's for a while, when he bumped into Squeaky, who was his twin. e___e Godd, these characters are complex. Okay.
So. The family Friday lived with in Ireland, his father was his father, but not his mother. Squeaky soon investigates and finds out their birth mother is running a project that Total was trying to shut down. Long story short, Iris is her name, and when the project is taken down, Friday and Squeaky live with Iris until Squeaky went off to college and Friday officially tied the knot with Ophelia, a girl he'd been dating at the Wammy's for about three years.
When he's 26, Ophelia and him have their first child, Analeigh Giselle Jensen, then Cosette Laurelle when he's 28, Carrigan Forbes (named after a close childhood friend of Friday's who passed away when they were ten or something [lol Forbes]) when he's 31, and Aimee Clemence when he's 35.
So they live happily ever after. Ophelia and Friday visit the Wammy's every now and again. Not sure of what they do. XD Oh, and Friday has siclkle cell anemia, a condition worth mentioning.
 
Name: Saskia Rosendov (very right)
Alias: Sinter Saber / S
Age: 26
DOB: October 31st.
Hair color: Black
Eye color: Blue
Story: Sinter is Diesel's cousin, on her father's side. Sinter's father, Grigory, the brother of Diesel's father, Intan, was killed in the genocide. Sinter's mother, Yelizabeth, Sinter and Diesel's grandmother, Intan, and eight or nine-year-old Sinter escaped the conflict. Sinter's mother took her to an orphanage in Greece, and was never seen again. Watari found Sinter at that Greek orphanage, and Intan and the grandmother went somewhere, where Intan found Diesel's mother, and had Diesel.
 
She was quite mischevious in her teenage years. She loved to wear her hair in two pigtails on the back of her head, much like the Black Rock Shooter. She kicked inanimate objects quite often, for the hell of it, and chewed on cardboard and wooden utensils. She was quite violent, having to put up with Roman all the time, but also over-affectionate, also having to put up with Roman all of the time. She is an understanding person, and professes in some sort of science.
She went missing on her eighteenth birthday, only telling Roger where she was going. It was. Brazil. I'm pretty sure.She had gotten into a really bad fight with Roman. She lived there for two or three years, until she got fed up with the people she was living with. From the sound of the update provided when she was living there, she was living with adults that treated her like she was five. So. Yeah.
She came back to Winchester, got an apartment, and did side jobs for Roger. She made up with Roman as he was laying in a hospital bed (this will be explained in Roman's prof). They lived together, and decided to start fostering kids. They took kids from everywhere, including Jury and Borden who soon moved to the Wammy's for their brilliance.
So yeah. Her and Rome are just chillin'. Fostering kids and whatnot. She's super cool.
 
Name: Rohak Sinsidy (middle right)
Alias: Roman / R
Age: 27
DOB: August 19th.
Hair color: Orange
Eye color: Brown
Story: VERY impatient. VERY stuck-up. Yells a LOT. SO much like Ichigo Kurosaki. But ten times WORSE. SUCH an aasshole. The FOUNDER of douch.ebagery. Rolls his eyes a lot. Has a hatred for Squeaky for some reason. SUPER in love with Sinter. She loves him too and stuff. But she refuses to marry him.
 
So. Because Despi never really gave him a background, and this is her character, I can only clarify a few things.
He is quite relgious. Like. Almost Greek Orthodox. .____. And they go HARD.
As "Rohak" is an Arabic name if i remember correctly, he could be Middle Eastern. But he's a white kid. So, I genuinely have no idea. He'd been living at the Wammy's from a very young age, though. So. Ahh. Yeah.
When Sinter went missing, he searched for her in Brazil, but with no luck. He returned to Winchester, and keyed a Bentley that was in one of the garages. That Bentley belonged to Thalia.
Roman fucked with the wrooonnnngg bytch.
She hospitalized his ass. So yeah. That explains the hospital visit Sinter made. He was in there for like a month.
So when him and Sinter made up they lived together, and when Diesel came to live with them shortly after, he really wanted to serve as a legit father figure for her. So yeah.
He's a complete aasshole. Down to the bone. But Sinter finds something lovable in him.
Yep.
 

 

 

O god. Here come Lounge and Luc's stories
 

Name: Vincenzo Ovic Fermentino-Stanislavski (very left) lololololol
Alias: Lounge / O
DOB: Februry tenth, the same as Mikey's.
Age: 22
Hair color: Veryveryveryveryveryverydark brown. Mostly black.
Eye color: Very light blue
Story: When he first arrived at the Wammy's (you'll hear where he came from in a second) he had a habit of jkfddf biting spoons or something relative. He also LOVED to watch TV static. He was in a relationship with Astrie the first few months he lived there, then the, like, sister of his mother? No, brother of his mother found him and adopted him. His uncle beat his wife's son, whom we all know as Iorek, who used heroin.
So we're going to rewind a bit. Like. A LOT.
*deep breath*
Lounge's father walked out on his mother and two older brothers before Lounge was born. They lived in Italy, Lounge's mother was Russian and his father was Italian. His mother went missing when Lounge turned seven. He had a younger sister of another father, but same mother, who got sick and died when he was seven as well. Him and his two older brothers were on the road when an elk or some shit jumped in front of their car as they were speeding down the highway, killing both of his brothers, when he was nine.
How'd he survive that? Luc. Luc is a life-god that was taking care of him. And he soon somehow got stuck in Lounge's head. So. That will be explained.
Lounge was put into several different, decent foster homes before he was stuck into his final one when he was, uhh, like, jdfkjd nine. I'm pretty sure he was nine.
The man who took care of him was an abusive old sack of shit that beat the snot out of him everytime he fucked up his English.
Now, you're thinking, okay, Luc was "taking care of him," well what the fuck?
So Lounge always carried the horrific memories of his sister dying, the bloody car wreck AND getting beaten senseless within his nightmares and his every day life. Well, Luc tried to extract these memories, I believe, but got stuck inside of Lounge's head in the process. As these memories soaked up into Luc, this dear life-god became sour.
One evening, as a beating was being served, Luc took over Lounge's body, hit the old man over the head with a tea kettle, and bailed. He lived on the streets for about two or three years when he bumped into Watari, and was put into the Wammy's.
So yeah. He lived at the Wammy's. Then was adopted, and moved to Russia with his uncle. Iorek terrorized him, and in one vicious persuit Iorek sliced Lounge's arm open. Right before Lounge actually moved, Luc started to make appearances in his head, taking over Lounge's mouth and invading his thoughts, and also falling madly in love with Thalia, Astrie's sister. Anyway, Lounge got sick off of the open wound, and his uncle found out. He beat Iorek senseless, then demanded he go and get the proper medication.
Iorek went to retrieve the medication, but upon returning, he made a short trip to his room, and got a heroin syringe mixed up with Lounge's medication (which is silly because heroin must be prepared before usage, but w/e), and stuck Lounge with the heroin.
OOPSIES. So yeah. Lounge is hooked on heroin. I think he's unconscious for about two weeks? I think?
So yeah. He goes back to Winchester for help from Squeaky. Squeaky tries, but then puts him in the care of Quill. So as Quill's rehabilitating him, they become very physcial, and stuff. She gets him on Vicodin, then gets him off of it. Then they genuinely love eachother. And he never uses heroin again! :D
In that time, Gabrielle, another life-god, sensed Luc inside of Lounge, and even recognized him, and extracted him. That will be explained in Luc's prof.
So Lounge and Quill stay together, and as they're expecting, Quill has a miscarraige. So yeah. That affects her pretty roughly. And so I think they adopt. But Lounge works as a math teacher at the Wammy's and Quill works for the CPS. So yes.
 

Name: Greil Luc Upton
Alias: Luc. Uh. Upton / U
Age: 167 years of age. I think.
DOB: September 20th, 1846.
Hair color: Same as Lounge's.
Eye color: Same as Lounge's.
 
Story: Hooooh boi.
 
Greil was born in Beaufort, South Carolina. His father was a rich plantation owner right before America's Civil war in the late 1800's.
He was raised as a gentleman and taught to be a Catholic. His father had many slaves, but Greil didn't like it much. He was blonde and built, a fine young boy of his age.
He was drafted in the the Confederation to fight in the American Civil War, and died in the Battle of Chickamauga, when he was 17.
Greil's soul some how became encaptured into a life-god form. There is, I'm assuming we've all agreed on, a band of life-gods that believe they're working for God, ideally the God of Christianity.
A handful of these life-gods bestow upon themselves the task of being a "guardian angel" to human children, that are present at the site of birth.
So yeah. Luc was around when Lounge was born. So he became his guardian angel.
At some point when Lounge was living with the abusive old fart, Luc really did not want Lounge to have all of the bad memories. And, as I've said, he got stuck inside of his head in the process of trying to extract the crappy memories, without Lounge even knowing about it.
Luc was buried under all of Lounge's shit, then awakened at something that happened to Lounge, I don't remember what.
As Lounge's shit with the heroin went on, Luc was able to take over Lounge's body from time to time and visit with Thalia. So they fell in love like that. Then soon, Gabrielle pulled Luc out from his body. So yeah.
Thalia and Luc run safehouses for Shinigami in America. And stuffs.
 

 
ahhhhhhhhhhhhdone

LUUUUUUC
 
1 . 28 . 2012
 
The old man slammed his hand down on the desk decidedly as he began to
yell. "YOUNG MAN I AM COMPLETELY AWARE OF YOUR SITUATION AS OF RIGHT
NOW, BUT FRANKLY, SHUT THE HELL UP."
"I WILL NOT SHUT THE HELL UP UNTIL I GET AHOLD OF THALIA."
 
"MmmmmmmmRoger........Thalia.........is on the phone." the redhead interjected.
"LUC. TAKE THE PHONE FROM KIT THIS VERY INSTANT."
"YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCKING---" the life-god reaches to the redhead and
she hands him the cell phone. "---Baby, where are you?"
 
The old man slumps back in his seat and says to the redhead, "Thank you."
"It's nothing."
"How'd you get ahold of her?" The old man asks as he steeples his fingers.
 
The redhead swayed side to side and beamed. "I called Denton's cell phone."
 
The old man smiled, nodding. "That's resourceful. Did you hear about
their older sister being kidnapped? Thalia and Denton's?"
"Yes, in fact," she cleared her throat, "Thalia arrived here a week
ago, which I probably should have told Luc," she glanced to the
life-god in question and put a finger to her lips, "and called to talk
to Squeaky. Squeaky got a call from Iris, and.... Iris got a call from
Lucia, Thalia and Denton's mother. Oh wait Roger you know this!"
"Yes, dear Kit. Oh, and I knew she was here."
"But why was their older sister kidnapped?"
 
"YOU MEAN KIT KNEW YOU WERE HERE THIS ENTIRE TIME?!?!!?" the life-god
jumped and faced the redhead, sneering.
"Yes I did." she beamed.
 
A large blonde boy entered the office and witness the life-god scream
at the redhead. "You better fucking WATCH IT." he snapped.
"Shove off, tubby........ WELL YEAH THALIA, SHE DIDN'T TELL ME
ANYTHING, OBVIOUSLY!!"
 
The old man and the redhead turned back to their conversation as the
life-god screamed his head off.
"The eldest girl, Lily had been privately shutting down brothels run
by the Trapp Foundation." The old man sifted through papers on his
desk.
"Isn't that what Nuclear and Isosceles are investigating?"
 
"/AND/ ROGER FUCKING KNEW?!!!?!??!?!?"
 
"Yes it is. Lucia and Iris assume that they kidnapped Lily, but we're
unsure of their motives. Once Greil calms down and him and Thalia make
up, he will accompany Nuclear and Isosceles on the investigational
rescue."
 
"YOU OLD SACK OF SHIT---" he was interrupted with a punch to the face.
"Luc you need to chill the fuck out. Thalia's BEEN here."
"And you didn't fucking TELL ME, LOUNGE?!?!"
"SHE DIDN'T CHECK UP WITH ROGER AND I DIDN'T SEE YOU COMING AND ASKING ME!!"
"YOU'RE MY FUCKING BROTHER YOU SHOULD KNOW WHERE I AM."
"You're right, no, no, I SHOULD have known---NO FUCK YOU, LUC. YOU
HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RESPECT FOR ROGER, CALLING HIM AN 'OLD SACK OF
SHIT.' /AND/ FOR CALLING SHIPLEY ‘TUBBY’ GO SLAP YOURSELF."
 
The life-god looked at the phone in his hand.
"I'm going to pick up Thalia. Lounge, can I borrow some clothes?"
"Yeah."
 
The old man clears his throat, grabbing the life-God's attention. "I
need you and Thalia to make a run to Greece before you get back to the
safehouse. Oh, and tell Thalia that her sister Lily is missing. You
guys are also going to help with that before you go off to Greece."
 
The life-god eyed the old man. "I apologize for calling you and old
sack of shit. And, young boy, I apologize for calling you ‘tubby.’"
 
The old man simply nods. The large blonde just stares.
 
=======
 
The boy with dark blue hair is passed out in the back seat, and the
boy with bright red hair sits in the passenger seat, a foot on the
dashboard. The third one in the car is a friend of the redhead. The life-god clears his throat, and points on the map that the redhead his holding.
 
“That’s where Lily last told her mother where she was.”
“A brothel off of…Solent Road. But there are no other roads leading off of it.”
“There’s a back road leading off.”
 
"There aren't any roads leading off of it on this MAP..."
"That's why it's a BACKroad, Mason."
 
“I think Trapp has an office off of West Bay Road, just by that
loop-around."
 
"Iso, are you listening?”
“…..”
”ISOSCELES.”
"....."
 
The redhead reaches over the seat and smacks the face of the one with
the blue hair.
 
“……mmmrmffffmrmmrghrgfmdfgkjkfjalacmnxmcv…”
“Good, now, Luc, how are we going to do this?”
“Well. I’M old enough to get in. And I’m well dressed enough."
 
"We might have to do that. Roger lent us... spy...gear..."
"That's a really stupid thing to call it."
"WELL WHAT ELSE DO I CALL IT?!"
 
"KIDS. SHUT UP. I mean I CAN get in. I might be the only one doing field work."
 
The redhead toys with a guitar pick in his hand as he looks out the windshield. "That will work."
 
The life-god nodded, and began tying the tie hung around his neck. "Let's get hot."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
this is gewd? is gewd? gewd? anything needing to be added? yes? gewd?
@miles-to-g0-before-i-sleep

I completely forgot about friday's existence.
This is a Lounge
 
~~~~~
 
He has an arm around her waist, and she leans on the granite countertop, drumming her fingers. "The kids have lunch money?"
"Give me a kiss, I haven't gotten one from you today."
She faces him as they're standing, and their lips meet in a tender embrace. When their lips break, he says, "Yes, I did give them lunch money."
-
"Why're you so skinny?"
"Yeah, nobody push him over, he might snap in half!"
The frail man crosses his arms and leans against the chalkboard. "Are those the best insults you have?"
"I don't know, but I bet you'd rather be playing Modern Warfare than teaching US calculus."
"I'm not teaching much. You're all a major disruption--"
Just then, the classroom door opens, and Quill enters. "Oh, hello, Wifey." He says to her.
Quill crosses to where Lounge stands, wearing a skin-tight black cocktail dress and red stilettos. Lounge glances to the disruptive boys right before he gets a big smooch from his wife in front of the entire class of boys. Their jaws hit the floor.
"I'M GOING TO REPORT YOU!" the most annoying one says.
"This technically isn't a public school, and more like a private. Teachers are self employed, so, you really can't--"
===
2394852-4389

The girl with the dark purple hair drummed her fingers on the desk as the old man talked.
“Would you be interested in running a safe-house for the refugee children? In America?”
“Roger, would that be safe for me and Thalia?”
 
Kit’s large friend dropped a very large book on the ground and sucked air sharply through his teeth. It smacked the ground very loudly. “Sorrryyyyy!”
 
The old man pushed his glasses up his nose and looks at the boy with the black hair.
“Well, Greil, you’re part life-god, and I assume since Thalia is part death-god that she’ll be okay.”
“When is that getting started up?”
“Well the Confiscation forces are being drafted as we speak. We need to act quickly.”
 
The girl with dark purple hair makes eye contact with the boy with the black hair and there is concern on her face. He takes a seat in the chair across from Roger’s desk and purses his lips. She leans on the desk.
“What are they going to do to those children?” the girl with the purple hair asks.
The old man shakes his head. “From the sound of it, they are going to first take away their notebooks, if they have any. They will probably experiment on them and torture them if they misbehave. That would just make sense.”
Greil leans forward. “Are they going to try and find a way to extract the Shinigami genes from the kids?”
The old man nods. He is about to say something, but the Kit’s large friend speaks before him. “They’re going to develop weapons. There is no way those greedy Americans are going to let anyone else develop a supernatural power before them.”
 
There was a long silence.
 
“I apologize for eavesdropping.”
 
Greil looks over at Thalia. “We have to do something. We have contact with life-gods that can help us out.”
Thalia is thinking hard. “We could kick some ass.”
Greil looks at the large friend of Kit’s. “We need to locate as many kids as we can, and fast.”
===
83 83 83 83 83 83 83 I like the idea of them breaking out kids from Confiscation facilities

http://www.polyvore.com/spoonful_sugar_makes_medicine_go/set?id=39976349
 

 

 
The Calculus teacher is snooping into the kitchen to find something to snack on.
He wouldn't get in trouble; this he knows, but he feels as if he must be swift in this process.
 
As he looks into the spotless facility, he spots a child with blue hair.
"O....Oxy? Please get off of the kitchen table and sleep in your bed."
====================================