Hide and Seek, alcohol style

Strelein von Rosnete · 01-06-2010, 12:06 AM

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641 SSWM
/sob You'll hit 50k easy D:

Strel nodded absently at Rurik, gazing at the cracked pavement. The gravel had so much more depth this close, but nature was breaking through the no longer whole surface with yellow-green shoots. "He doesn't seem like a person you wouldn't get along with. He's really interesting, visually and with his...his... personality, that's the word," he finished finally, face relaxing since he had scrunched it up in concentration. The word came rather difficultly, easy as it was to say and understand. The redhead's mind was running in circles around simple things, and while it should have been worrying him, he simply felt mellow about. It felt nice, despite the difficulty in conversing properly and understandable. But the drink was strong against his rather short defensive wall. The booze was like a bull and the defense was a small wall of pebbles; leaps right over. The only problem he could still comprehend with the alcohol was the rise in his body temperature, or the feel of it rising. He began to feel rather warm, mostly in the face and chest. Everywhere else was still the way it was supposed to be.

Snorting, the redhead looked back up at Rurik, smirking. "If you mean running, I don't know who'd win there. If you mean drinking, I think I already lost." He blinked, trying to clear his sight a little bit more. The looks he was making were sure to be comical, but he could not tell. They were practical to the tipsy male's mind and that was the important part. Though he could not help but look at Rurik and think the guy was pretty hot for his age. Seven years, the Russian was no spring chicken, but he still looked to be roaring in his prime. He told himself it was the alcohol convincing him to think this way, and he accepted it as that. Strel tried to remind himself to be responsible for his words and actions, but to use the vodka as an excuse for stupidity was terribly tempting; he usually did not have an excuse for that.

Strel made a face at the mention of wine, remembering a sip he had tasted with his siblings in an abandoned house. It had tasted really funny and he had not liked it at the time. Though this vodka, it was interesting. Maybe something sweeter, or fruitier, would satisfy the newcomer to alcohol better than higher proof drink? Then, eyes widening at the mention of the places Rurik had been, the redhead wondered what to ask about first. He had heard of none of those, so they all seemed interesting to the wolf who had not traveled far from his pack lands nor had time for sea travel. "Oh, Rome, that sounds pretty. What was it like? Where was it?" A memory of his mother mentioning the origins of their family name came to mind, and Strel asked further of the Russian, "Did you ever go to Germany? I hear that's where my ancestors were from ages ago." The stories his mother had told him seemed so long ago, though it had not been yet a year since he had left his family behind.

"Everyone seems to really love the sea around here," he observed, sighing. Strel liked the sea, but it was an average feeling, nothing strong enough for him to risk his hide for months at a time on a boat with no land beneath his feet. The idea was almost scary, truth be told. "Though I guess I should be glad you took the voyage here, elsewise I would never have met a smart, old guy," he grinned, clearly not meaning it in an insulting way. Strelein leaned back and then lay on the ground, arms outspread as violet eyes gazed at the sky. "Do tell me about Rome."

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Rurik Russo · 01-10-2010, 12:10 AM

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Oh yes, and then I will collapse from exhaustion and put myself on hiatus for a week just to let my poor fingers recover. XD No worries, though, I am totally gonna cheerlead everyone else along. <333 Word Count: 627

The silver-furred werewolf was quite happy with their little selection of a home; he remembered the adventure underground into the metro tunnels with Liliya and Silas to find the map and figure out where a hotel was. It had been a fun and exciting landing day for all three of the Russos, and Rurik was happy to have imparted some map-reading skills to his children. As it turned they hadn't really needed to go into the subways to find a tourist's map to look for a hotel—their little home away from home was in plain view of the docks. Rurik's boat stuck out like a sore thumb among all the scrapped boats, some no more than mere skeletons, brilliant orange-red with rust eating away at them. He was happy he'd grounded this boat; it wouldn't become part of the ocean as the Syemv had.

"Hmm... maybe I will meet him, when I come to visit," the silver-furred wolf said, the corners of his lips lifting in a rather reserved smile as compared to his normal full-toothed grin. He had purposely used the word "when"—this Cour des Miracles place sounded quite alright to Rurik, and if the rest of them were as nice as Strel, he could certainly use a trip out there. From what he'd learned, there were two packs on either side of the city, with a third owning a small piece of the northernmost border of the city, a thin patch of forest separating Halifax from this pack. The red-haired wolf's next comment drew a laugh from Rurik. He was not an experienced runner, not exactly, but his tolerance of the drink was remarkable. "Well, I am not too much of a runner, but I am a drinker," the werewolf laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Bet you'd sew the pants right off me, though," he said, growing a little bit bold and a little bit sleazy with the addition of the liquor, grinning and realizing that his statement was at once an oxymoron and an innuendo.

The silver-furred werewolf had often recounted tales of his wanderings to other canines; some were curious, and others expressed absolute horror at the idea of traveling by sea. Strel happened to be one of the former, and he inquired about Rome—this just happened to be one of Rurik's favorite cities, and he offered a smile. "Rome is in Italy. There are many old, old buildings mixed with newer ones... it is a beautiful city, though. The Mediterranean climate is just perfect," the werewolf said, sighing softly at his memories of the summer spent sailing those seas. It had been quite a welcome vacation, warmth and humidity against the dry cold of his homeland. The wolf's next words caught Rurik's attention, and he looked over at Strel with a glazed sort of interest. "Oh yes. The canines from that area are very smart. They are very good at taking old human technology and adapting it for us," Rurik merrily informed Strel, hoping the other canine might find some pride in that knowledge.

The werewolf grinned, and shrugged his shoulders. "There are books that say everything once came from the sea. Maybe that has to do with it?" Rurik knew only a little about evolution; when one started talking about single-celled organisms and other such complicated matters, his brain tended to glaze over. Strel offered a genuine compliment which the Russian wolf again smiled at. If he had cheeks to blush, he would have—instead, the wolf's equivalent appeared on his face in half-mast ears and averted eyes. "Can't say I'm too displeased you decided to have a wander around the city today," the Russo responded, his gray and white tail wagging a few times to show his thanks.

Strelein von Rosnete · 01-10-2010, 09:08 PM

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354 SSWM
/sob You'll hit 50k easy D:

Had Stel been drinking something, he would have spewed it out of his mouth because of his laughter. Instead he simply snorted at the man's joke. "Sew your pants off? That would be counter productive, I would think, though I'm not exactly sure which part of that is counter productive," he said absently, smirking at the innuendo of both of their words. "And I'm sure you could probably sew my pants off just as well as I could." He had not really meant it to sound rather suggestive, but that was how it had ended up. It took him a few moments to realize what it was that he said. He put his hand to his mouth, snorting at what he himself had said. He almost apologized, but his foggy mind distracted him as he was about to say a thing.

Strelein groaned at the thought of never getting a chance to meet the wolves from his ancestral homes. Once upon a time his line had been from Germany and the area, though they had long been diluted with the blood of the gray wolves and greater plains wolves. "Was it warm?" he inquired curiously, not really understanding what Mediterranean dictated. He assumed that the perfect part meant it was nice and warm, not nearly so cold or snowy. Anywhere was really better than here in the winter, save for even further north. "I guess we're taking over seven steps behind where the humans ended."

Grinning at the silver wolf, Strel shrugged his shoulders. "If we did, that is some terrible humor." Cat's hated water, and Strel was afraid of the ocean to an extent. Then, smiling sweetly, he cocked his head at the silver male. "I might have said the same already, but I am glad too." That was when he, even in his inebriated state, decided he needed to repay the gift with another one from him. Strel did not want to have Rurik sacrifice a bottle of precious alcohol for nothing in return, even if it was a free sample. He would just make it a surprise. Truly a lucky day.

Fade to black? [lol]

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