→ you know I'd rather work alone than play a supporting role

[studmuffin]

When: August 14th.
Rating: R.
Characters: Everyone! Tell your friends!
Summary: There are no Star Wars people in the City so let's have ourselves a bit of education.

What started off as a brosession quickly turned into a free for all movie night. Not that Stiles minds considering, but it means he has to plan and execute everything a lot more smoothly. So when Saya offers up the equipment they need he jumps at the chance.

Isaac helps cart everything about - werewolf strength, Stiles is envious -, and together they track down a space in Xanadu and fill it. It's not a hot night but it's warm and balmy and nobody's going to end up with pneumonia. Squashy beanbags get borrowed off a particularly hipster coffee shop and placed liberally about the place. They take what they can, couches that fit out of doors and large obnoxious cushions so everyone has a place to settle. There's a fuckton of candy too. Stiles pretty much wipes out a weeks allowance alone getting it and the soda. But if he's doing something he's doing it properly and he texts everyone the time and the place and all but collapses into a beanbag.

When people arrive he'll move. Honest.

Comments

I'm just gonna move this here

[velveteenwolf]

The thing about being a gypsy, is that you can more or less get away with doing things that are rather out of line. Like, lounging on the sofa next to the pretty redhead you know you have no chance with. But, it's okay, because Peter isn't even interested in chances. So, he grins at Lydia. He's unfortunately fully dressed now, but, he does have a rather stylish leather jacket that he most definitely didn't pay for. It's not as nice as the one he had in Hemlock, but it's still pretty metal.

He's still not sure that coming out of the Banshee closet was exactly the brightest idea, but maybe she's right. One never knows. But hearing about the curses? Yeah, he's somehow more concerned. There are about a million and fucking one things that no one here needs to know about him, thanks. But, Lydia seemed interesting. And so she has a gypsy boy with a faded smile just settling next to her, when there comes that raspy Vader breathing.

[saturniapavonia]

Even in the dark of evening there's something about the muss of hair on top of Peter Rumancek's head distinct. Not what he was expecting seeing Lydia there.

He sure works fast. Pants, smokes, a jacket too... It really doesn't take much. Roman briefly debates ducking out of sight.

"I have you now!" No James Earl Jones but close enough. Enough fucking around. How big is the couch anyway? Can it take three?

A werewolf, a vampire, and a banshee walk into a bar...

[lefthandedgenius]

"Oh hey," Lydia starts to say to Peter with a smile, but then someone is stalker breathing behind her and she turns, quirking her brow in puzzlement. When she sees the source of it, she laughs. "Roman! You're terrible. C'mon, sit down." She pats the seat on the other side of her; plenty of room on the couch.

She's half tempted to use one to lean against and the other as a place to put her feet.

"Roman, Peter, Peter, Roman." she lazily introduces the two guys, not being aware that they're from the same place.

[velveteenwolf]

"You're about a year late on introductions," Peter comments with a quirk of an eyebrow as he looks at Roman. Way too much fucking history for anyone's good, to be entirely honest. But there's a hint of a smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, because creeper Vader breath was hard to resist. Peter had always had a love for cheap tricks and jokes that generally produced eyerolls; hell knew they were damn near his calling sign.

A few favors here and there and a pair of incredibly nimble fingers had him pretty much back to his usual standard of what passed for creature comforts. Gypsy charm, man, it worked except when it didn't. Being the constant bad boy, the outsider, outcast, the kid that never gave a shit. It drew people in, although usually not quite as much as it made them loathe his very existence. It was a trade.

He raises an eyebrow as she invites Roman to sit on the other side of her and there's this feeling. A swinging of scales. He's not sure just how dumbshit this will end up being. Peter and Roman with a girl between them -- it almost makes Peter want to run and dodge any potential implications.

[saturniapavonia]

"His hands might not be clean enough to shake anyway." A jibe, always a jibe. But to be perfectly clear to Lydia: "We already know each other."

Long legs of his step around the couch to the side of the couch that the pretty girl pats. A little sandwich here. As he goes he presses his palm to Peter's head like he needs it for balance. Roman is only being a pest. Lydia is right, he is terrible. It's for attention. When he's seated, he puts an arm around the back of the couch, the back of Lydia. It may end up touching on the other side.

[lefthandedgenius]

"Oh."

Lydia calmly regards the interaction between the two young men. This will be...interesting. "It's great having someone from where you come from around here, isn't it?" she asks in a mild tone.

No, Lydia does not mind being the jelly in this little sandwich. Not at all. When Roman puts his arm around her though, she shifts willingly enough...but then those high heeled sleek legs are tucked against Peter. Everybody has themselves a little bit of Lydia. All she needs is for one of them to start feeding her grapes.

[velveteenwolf]

"It's something alright," Peter says with a shrug of his shoulders, stealing a glance at the blond on the other side of Lydia. It's easier not to think about how he feels about Roman, to be perfectly honest, so Peter is just going to keep doing that. If he doesn't think about it, it's less confining, less like the weight of caring about what someone needs.

When it comes to Roman, calm goes pretty much right out the fucking window, so Peter settles for affected disinterest instead. They could be anywhere, and the fact that he's an armslength from Roman with a redhead between them is neither here nor there. She tucks her legs against him and he thoughtlessly drums a twitchy rhythm into her ankle.

Too much goddamn history was what it was.

[saturniapavonia]

One. Two. People to pay attention to him. That's what he's thinking. Why puzzle out the color and feel of emotion. Lydia smells wonderful. And his best friend is here too. Comfortable and somehow familiar. Not enough to hurt. Too many things do. He'd rather not have Lydia have him defined by his angst. It'd make him feel vulnerable, he imagines. Besides, that's what Peter is for.

"Easier for you to say, you have a lot of friends from home. Or are they?" Because it seems she so easily befriends people. Talk about talent.

[lefthandedgenius]

She casually flexes and points her toes, not minding the tattoo that Peter beats out on her ankle if it helps him to relax, though Roman's question gets her attention. "What, friends? Mostly. Some are more friendly than others, and none of them are enemies." Thank god. She can't even imagine what it would be like if Deucalion or Jennifer were to show up. Or worse, Peter Hale.

[velveteenwolf]

Peter just settles in on his end of the couch, feigning at careless relaxation, although his fingertips on her ankle betray him. And there's those flicks of blue eyes that watch Roman from under his eyelashes. It's not quite secretive or subtle, but it is unsteady, a little too intent. He's not sure what to make of Roman, where it all fits together. He thought he had, and then there had been Letha, and comas, and too much bullshit for anyone's good.

This place... it almost feels like a reset button, though that feels way too fucking optimistic. Sitting here like this feels like a weird sense of almost deja vu. The same two boys and a different pretty girl, and Peter still pathetically lost in how it makes him feel. His shoulders shrug and he sinks into the couch and pretends like he's rapt on the movie.

[saturniapavonia]

"Mostly." Roman scoffs and shakes his head. But he's just toying with Lydia. Why? Because he's trying to see how to best get a response from her. "If otherwise, you now have two professional assholes to help you handle that."

He throws a glance to the other side of the couch and is very disappointed to see that Peter is doing a great statue impression. What the hell. This can be fun, this can be normal. Why the distant act? Lydia is great. Is he sore that Roman got to her, it seems, first? The thought pleases and revolts him. It's all weird.

"Right?" Long fingertips reach out to tuck his hair. The reach brushes his lips against Lydia's hair. She smells lovely.

[lefthandedgenius]

"Are you entirely sure that's the category you fit in?" Lydia asks, her smile wry. "Because I've known a few pro league assholes in my time."

(In some other part of the universe, Jackson suddenly feels a cold brush of air go down his neck.)

There's a very quick, sidelong glance at Roman, accompanied by the corner of her mouth quirking upward in a flirty grin. But it's also full of I know the game you're playing, sugar. Her gaze then tilts toward Peter, some concern coloring her tone. "You okay?"

[velveteenwolf]

"Yeah, sure, I'm fine." There's a wave of fingers and he forces a smile, but it's a convenient lie.

No, he's totally fucked, but that's nothing to worry about. He distinctly has that feeling of being the oddman out, here. It's the inverse of the creepy feeling he got with Letha, who always paid too much attention to him. Instead, he's on the other side watching Roman flirt with Lydia. She's a nice girl, or, Banshee, or whatever. Pretty, too.

He's not jealous, so much as he is overcome with a feeling that he ought sit on his hands for fear of somehow putting them where they don't belong. He knows enough to know that sliding away to give them space is about the worst fucking choice he can make. So, he smiles and tries to make it stick.

(He might be jealous; it's just not something he understands.)

"But he's right. It's how we make a living." There's a joke there, in the twist of his lips he uses to downplay that tension that scrapes at what Peter allows himself to notice.