Apr 30 15:44:00 105 PA
From Chronicles
The current game time is: Thu Apr 30 15:44:00 105 PA.
The hustle and bustle of the Merchant Plaza above fills this area day and night. Traffic is frequent and thick here at all hours of the day as people come and go. Buildings of mixed light and heavy construction line the street but are typically pulled well away from the road with each having its own small parking lot. This allows for the most space to let pedestrians and vehicles mill about on their respective bits of business. At all times, this location is watched by patrols of KDPD that make sure no trouble spills out of the Plaza and that traffic flows smoothly.
Though traffic is thick, there are few accidents and problems. This is largely due to a seven foot divider that is placed between the North and South bound lanes. In this divider green plush grass and trees grow giving the area a civilized and tame feeling despite the constant presence of travelers. Well maintained sidewalks run along both sidees of the streets and here and there a newspaper kiosk can be found.
The actual businesses that are found here seem to be generally 'mom and pop' style facilities. Ed's TV Repair, Smith Family Cleaning, Tycho's Gas Station -- all places like this that eake out a fairly precarious living. There are two exceptions to this though, is the massive shape of the KDPD headquarters on the east side of the street. Taking up an entire city block, it is constructed of drab, chemically treated concrete and is very blockish in design. Although it is surrounded with a high wall and automated gate, one can just glimpse the Kingsdale City Jail beyond with its strongly barred windows.
The other exception is the Kingsdale Museum, a structure similar in size but not in styling. Probably six stories tall and made of modern glass it encompasses both a museum wing and the Kingsdale City Library.
Early afternoon, and Aimee is walking up the street. At her side, a large dog pads, a dog that has almost as much mud on her as Aimee herself does. Her expression is amused as she talks to the animal at her side. "And who is going to have to have a bath before Kelley sees you? I can see it now, a white carpet and you..."
Lavache pulls a Wastelander motorcycle up to the pump at the station, and begins filling it somewhat experimentally. The result being a lot of swearing as some of the gas winds up leaking right back out onto his boots. Lavache knocks the motorcycle over with a flat kick, and swears more as the rest drains out into a puddle.
As Aimee walks, the dog bounces up, and she drops the leash, the unexpected movement knocking her to one side. "Betsy! Oh, you damn dog..." The damn dog in question hurtles across the road, leaping at the man with the bike. "Betsy! Oh no, I'm so sorry..." She runs after the animal.
Lavache surprisedly jerks an angry elbow at the dog, turning suddenly and stepping back.
Aimee reaches for the dog's collar, scolding softly in a low voice. "I'm so sorry, she got away from me..." She pulls the collie away, an apologetic expression on her face. "I'm sorry."
Lavache glares back and forth between the girl and the dog, before growling out "Keep the fucking thing on its goddamn leash, or it'll wind up fucking misted," and turning back to the bike, giving it another kick.
Wandering slowly down the road, dressed in heavy juicer armor is a feline that Aimee would no doubt be familar with. The Pantheran's casual gait showing that he's in no rush to get anywhere, long ropey tail swaying back and forth while his perked up ears swivel about. As he travels along an odd language with a mechanical tone can be occasionally heard comming from a small box like device he's got attached to his webbing.
Aimee rests her hands lightly on her hips, the apologetic expression vanishing entirely, green eyes sparking with temper. "And you keep your language to yourself. I said I was sorry, and it isn't like she hurt your heap of junk there." She lifts her chin, glowering up at the man, her diminutive height not apparently bothering her. "Got that?" She is unaware of the Pantheran, but her voice easily carries.
Lavache stares at the bike a moment before turning to the woman, still obviously upset, and adopting a broad, confrontational stance. Peering equally down at the girl, he almost spits, "You're right, the damn dog didn't hurt the heap, but if it gets out and jumps on anybody it damn well pleases, it's going to wound up getting fuckin' hit." Gesturing accusingly at a mud streak left by the dog on his coat, "and my language is my own goddamn language."
That dark furred feline continues his approach, unaware as of yet of the argument ahead, though such a thing cant last much longer, especially not once his gaze falls uppon the familar face of Aimee, from there it only takes a few moments longer to tell that she's having some minor argument with the man before her. This causes Kesslan's steps to slow slightly, waiting to try and tell what's going on without having to jump to any conclusions.
Her stance matches his, both hands resting on her hip. The dog stands by her side, protective as it watches them. "I've had no problems with her until now." The mud on her leg suggests this might not entirely be the truth but her temper is shining from her eyes. "If you drop that in, I'll pay for it to be cleaned. I'm sure it needed it anyhow." She drops the offer, along with the insult in the air between them.
Lavache looks down at her, before suddenly turning and giving the big another kick. "Does it look like a fucking cleaning's going to help this piece of shit? Why the hell would I even fucking bother!?" Whirling back around, he points down at her, hostility apparent despite the foot or two between his hand and her shoulder, growling out "I don't GIVE a damn about your dog, or your fucking 'apology,'" before turning back to the bike, moving to drag it carelessly away from the pump.
Kesslan slows to an almost standstill now as things seem to heat up a little. But he doesnt interfere just yet. Instead the feline waits to see what Aimee will do. While the pantheran is relatively sure she can take care of herself just fine, he's not -that- sure. Still... he hesitates to at least give her a chance to show she can.
Aimee's temper flares, a flush rising in her cheeks. "I meant your fucking coat, not your heap of junk, you arrogant shit! But you can take it or leave it, forget it!" When he turns back to the bike, she lifts a hand from her hip, aiming a slap at his shoulder. "Hey! I'm talking to you, arsehole!" Apparently it might be Lavache in need to rescue. "Don't fucking turn your back on me!"
Lavache drops the bike (still on its side) with a small crash as the slap connects, turning angrily, apparently about to return the favour, drawing back his arm to backhand her.
Now that the fight seems to start comming to blows, Kesslan moves in for an assit for Aimee. But he doesnt rush in bodly like a knight in shining armor, oh no. Some small part of him cant help but wonder if Aimee wont just turn around and kick the guy's ass. At the same time he knows all too well Desmond would be... upset if he failed to aid Aimee.
The backhand connects with a ringing sound, her eyes widening just before the noise, just before the dog snarls, moving forward, hackles raised. The slap leaves a red mark on her cheekbone, and she is staggered by it. "You fucking bastard!" Apparently, this didn't sooth her temper and she clenches her fists, narrowing her eyes at him. "Gee, big man. Making up for something that is lacking? Is it too fucking small or doesn't it work? Maybe it is both?" The scorn in her voice carries easily.
Lavache swears at the dog, trying to shake it off of his leg, his temper apparently flaring as well. Trying to keep an eye on the woman, his attention is focused mainly on getting a square kick in, without even bothering to respond to the verbal attack.
The real question for the pantheran is how to settle this in a socially acceptable manner. Part of him just figgures he might as well shoot Lavache and have it done with, but then certain people may frown uppon such a choice of action, and so in the end he's left with little choice but to intervene physically. Using the moment of distraction, Kesslan attmepts to sneak up behind Lavache to then promptly try to sweep the man's feet from out under him quite litterally with a quick backward spin that sends his trailing leg towards Lavache's own legs.
Aimee bends and reaches for the dog's collar, "Drop it, Betsy." Her tone is commanding, and she adds softly, "Kelley wouldn't want you to get poisoned, girl..." She straightens, pulling the dog backwards, her mouth opening to speak again but she stops abruptly as Kesslan's movements bring him into her vision. She keeps her eyes steadily on the man in front of her. "Dick." She speaks softly, viciously.
Lavache lets out a surprised "Fuck!" before falling on his back, trying to reassess the situation as quickly as he possibly can, only catching a glimpse of his attacker as he goes down. Unfortunately, the glimpse he caught, was of the Juicer armour, which makes the assessment take a large, negative turn. He rolls away, and tries to regain his footing, attempting to keep both apparent attackers in sight. General cursings can be heard being mumbled almost constantly.
Taking the brief chance he's bought himself to draw his massive NTI-02B, a heavy slug throwing MDC pistol that has a barrel worthy of competiting with any naruni plasma cartridge pistol out there (or well, just about with a few exceptions) he brings it to bear on Lavache as the man gets up, but he doesnt pull the trigger, even though the pistol itself clears the holster in a blurr that owuld make a real juicer proud. "Quata-shi-za grak-taru jopek Human." an alien tongue says with a tone of warning, but not malice. A few moments later a mechanical voice emitting from his translator attached to his webbing spits out, in a flat mechanical voice "Ill advised you would to do that again Human."
Desmond comes a rolling down Main street at a steady clip, long strides relaxed and smooth. His hands are sunk into his jacket pockets, his eyes and ears sweeping, flicking occasionally towards random sounds and sights. There is a vague sense of contentment about his features, contributing to the languidness of his stride. Though he's developed a bit of a sense for trouble in his time working down at Moe's The telltale movements of a struggle not too far ahead reaching the big male even as his ears pick out certain voices above the din of passersby. He doesn't note Aimee at first, his attention fixing on Kesslan as he knocks down a human he's not seen before. Contentment rolling away to reveal a firm frown as he picks up his pace. The big male won't be hard to see coming. "What goes on here?" His deep, basso profundo voice will sound as he comes closer, a subtle roll to his 'r's. Pausing nearby, he'll spy Aimee then. One look at her face brings on a deep, clearly unhappy frown. And a sweep of eyes towards the nearest two men, Kesslan and Lavache that looks for answers. Obviously he didn't quite catch the last few words from Kesslan, though the other feline's posture speaks for much.
Aimee yelps at the appearance of the pistol, her cheeks losing colour. "Kess! No!" The cry escapes her at the same time as she steps forward, her hand on the dog's collar. "I'm fine, honestly..." Her free hand is out, palm down, fingers spread, a calming gesture. "He really isn't worth it..." Desmond's arrival gains him a quick glance. "Nothing! Nothing is going on, Des, it really isn't important." The only sign of that slap is the handshaped red on her cheek, and a rising anxiety in the green eyes.
Lavache takes the sudden shifting of attentions to dive behind his fallen bike and lift it as some sort of shelter from the newly-drawn weapon, the continuing swearing growing to a general level, while also moving (somewhat sluggishly, despite - or perhaps because - of the franticness) to free his NG-IP6 pulse rifle from under his coat. He doesn't bother trying to respond to any of the talking, simply trying to get settled and wrap his mind around the ever bleaker situation.
At noticing the rifle come out, Kesslan, who is entirely ignoring Aimee at this point, pull sout his -second- NTI-02B. The now dual wielding pantheran poiting both massive heavy pistols in Lavache's direction "Suggest Human leave now." is all he says through his translator to the man taking cover behind the bike, his eyes narrowing.
Desmond obviously doesn't believe Aimee's words that this is nothing, especially when the human dives under cover and draws a weapon in response to Kesslan's own such maneuver. Still, despite a quiet growing anger within, one thing keeps him cool and focused. Aimee's presence too close to a potential crossfire. "Kesslan!" His deep voice lifting firmly and with steadiness. His eyes flick towards the man as he states, "Lower your weapons. Let him leave." Echoing the sentiment given by the gun wielding feline. "You.. lower your weapon and depart. Now." This said towards Lavache.
Aimee crouches down, wrapping her arms around the snarling dog's neck, her cheeks pale, apart from the red patch. "Dear Mother of God... C'est vraiment de ta faute, Betsy!" She glances between the three males, nervously. "Enough already, put the bloody guns away, sacre bleu!" She stays crouched, struggling to keep the dog whose dislike of Lavache is growing with the tension.
Coming into view of the gas station, Kelley's enhanced vision spots Aimee, down on the ground.. with.. his dog? And what appears to a slap on her face? Kesslan? No, that guy seems pretty stable. Desmond, well, he doesn't exactly like the man, but he knows that he'd never hit Aimee. So who is this new person? The one with the totally illegal rifle that should have been confiscated at the gates? Kelley breaks into a run, yelling, "What the fuck?" - in an unusual colloquial - through his loudspeakers.
Lavache doesn't move from behind the bike, simply trying to position it between him and the ever-increasing number of people who seem out to get him. Despite mirroring the sentiments of the loudspeakers, he simply says, "My gun goes away when his guns go away."
The two pistols are lowered, slightly, pointing at the ground now, but they most certainly do not go back into their holsters, even Desmond is ignored for the time being. The pantheran's full attention uppon Lavache. Really at this point he's waiting to see how the man reacts now that he's not directly in the line of fire of the handguns. Mostly to see if the man at least likewise lowers the barrel of his rifle away from everyone else. "Pick wrong person to hit Human." Kesslan says, eyes narrowing at the man. And the way he says human, even says it without the need of the translator, one word hes' come to know, is said almost the way one would speak an insult in a low tone.
Desmond slowly shifts himself, positioning his large frame further between Aimee and potential gunfire. Largely futile, likely, considering he's lacking armor. Still.. He looks towards Kesslan at Lavache's words, quite firm in the look be gives his fellow feline. The general sense of displeasure lingers in his expression, though it is far too lacking in focus to be fixed upon any one person. "Kesslan." Desmond's deep voice sounding firmly once more before he fixes his eyes on Lavache. "He will not harm you if you lower your weapon and leave now. You have my word on that." Not that Desmond sounds all that happy with the human.
Kelley flanks the man behind the bike, pulling his own Wilks 227 Pulse Pistol and, not exactly aiming it at the man, he still raises it into a combat position. "You even try to shoot anyone, and you die, sir," Kelley says politely. He glances over at Kesslan and Desmond, trying to take his cues from the combatants. Curious, does Desmond actually want him to leave? The scientist is locked in confusion between defending the one he loves and putting her in more danger.
Aimee rises, still holding the collar of the enraged dog, her anxiety showing clearly on her face. "Kess, just put them away... please?" Kelley's shout gains him a glance, a flash of guilt in her eyes as she tightens her grip on the dog who snarls softly. "I'm not hurt, no harm done... guys, please..." There is panic rising in her voice, an edge of fear there. "It was my fault, not his, I did hit him first."
"Doesn't give a man an excuse to hit a woman," Kelley growls through his unit's speakers. He lowers his gun, but still maintains a firm grip on it while he suggests to the man behind the bike, "You are surrounded by three men determined to die to save this lady, and at least one of us is a trained mercenary in battle armor. Your move. If it were me, I'd run away now." Okay, so he bluffs. He's never seen this man before, and certainly not in armor. It'll probably work, right?
Lavache moves his rifle to his side, and then puts it flat on the ground, his hand still on it, though not aimed at anybody. Turning and sitting down, leaning against the bike, he addresses the only person in his view, the one in the armor. "I've no beef with the 'lady.' THIS was never even fuckin' ABOUT her." Letting out a nervous laugh, he smiles anxiously at the armor, and continues, "I'd love to leave, I'd have loved that from the start, but, well, it's hard when you've got guns pinning you, and a practically broken fuckin' bike, hm?"
Uppon seeing that Lavache is at least acting reasonable given his position, Kesslan finally puts away both his pistols. He doesnt take his eye off the man but he does turn slightly to adress Desmond "At least there is finally something to make day interesting."
Desmond takes more substantial note of Kelley then, his dark frown only getting deeper. Damn it.. Though when Lavache more or less gives up the ghost on the matter, some of that ire eases. With one gun down, he expects the others to go as well. Looking toward Kesslan, pleased to see his guns laid to rest. "This manner of thing I could do without," he rumbles with a soft lingering of temper. His thoughts turning predictably the next moment as he turns towards Aimee. Moving closer to her, he will inspect her carefully as he rumbles, "You are unhurt?" Turned towards her, his deep voice has concern flush away the temper and his expression softens.
Aimee hesitations only a second before nodding firmly. "Totally. I'm fine... this is just a misunderstanding..." Her grip on the collar gets renewed, the dog settling from snarling to a soft growl. "It was only the dog jumping at him..." She gives Desmond an appealing look, appreciation for his calming behaviour in her eyes.
Kelley, too, puts his pistol away, not wanting to inflame a defusing situation. "Aimee, you're okay?" he asks repeatatively, as if ensuring the Desmond's question was understood. Though he doesn't *really* want to engage the rifled man in conversation, he does anyway. "If this wasn't about her, then why'd you hit her?" and finaly, "You realize that it's illegal to carry a rifle inside the city walls,right?"
Lavache stares at the suit, glances over the bike briefly at the two large cats, and shifts his rifle slowly and peaceably into his coat before firmly saying, "She hit me first," before standing guardedly up and starting to wheel the bike slowly away from the throng of people. "And I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. Me having a rifle? In city limits? Absurd. Patently so." Even as he's moving he tries to keep everybody in sight.
Eyeing the departing human Kesslan cant help but wonder even more about the apparent insanity of humans in general, and all those that look like them. However, convinced that Lavache isnt about to start shooting he finally turns to look at Aimee "Think perhaps some day soon, should teach Aimee to fight yes?"
Desmond's eyes linger on the red imprint of the slap briefly before he tells her, "Some things are never a proper response to provocation." His deep voice flat on that matter. Unyielding. But he does not turn back towards Lavache. Perhaps he's growing a bit. "Come, we should.. see to the calming of the dog." A bit lame, that excuse, though he doesn't want to challenge her pride too much. He wants her away from this place and will make a few subtle motions indicating his desire to get her moving. Though he won't neglect Kesslan's note and rumble, "I have spent some time teaching her, but it is a process that would take much time."
"I'm fine, Kelley, honestly. The dog jumped at him, it was stupid stuff...I hit him first." She shakes her head, one curl falling over her forehead. "Take your dog, Kelley. She won't stop growling." Indeed, the dog is growling, pulling as Lavache rises to his feet and begins to move. Kesslan's comment gets him a small half smile, "Yeah, I guess, Kess." She glances down at the animal, stroking the soft fur on it's head. "Shhh, baby, no threat here..."
Kelley grunts with derision at the man's whiny, "She hit me first" attitude, and makes his way over toward Aimee, the swift ppffft of positive pressure emitting as his helmet is popped off. "You're really okay?" He asks, wanting to get closer, but, unfortunately, afraid of how Desmond might take it, especially after what's happened. Bastard cat always gets his way. Now *he'll* get to go and comfort her and be the hero. Not fair. Maybe if I shot him in the back right now? No, probably not. Grumble grumble. Then, quizzically, "What's Betsy doing out?" as he takes control of the calming dog.
Lavache keeps walking his bike towards dregtown, moving further and further, until he's no longer even bothering to keep track of anybody. After he's out of earshot he just starts laughing and shaking his head, just leaving it with a general, "fucking crazy people in this town."
The momentary threat now over Kesslan regards Kelley "Greeting to Kelley." He says before adding "And Desmond and Aimee. Admit perhaps could have gone better but when see fight, was think best defend Aimee, training say kill but know this not exact good thing to do so... try show some retraint but still only know certain ways of respond to problems."
Desmond looks to Kesslan then, with a decided lack of his prior ire. "I thank you for that, Kesslan," he replies to the other feline. "I admit, similar urges touched me as well." No apology made for such instincts. Still, all is well that ends well and his attention shifts back to Aimee. "We should, perhaps, leave this area. I have no doubt that questions might be asked of law enforcement decide to arrive soon." Indeed, a scene like that would draw a bit of attention from passersby. Someone could have called it in.
"I was running, took her with me. I thought she could use the exercise." She releases the collar, rubbing her hand as she straightens to her full, if diminutive, height. Kelley's anxious question gets a smile, her cheeks beginning to regain colour, "She pulled, ran over to check him out and jumped up." Kesslan's words stop the explanation in her tracks. She moves towards Kesslan until she stops in front of him, "Thank you, Kess. For defending me." She tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek. "We should go..."
Kelley returns a polite, "Greetings to you, Kesslan. And Desmond," he adds, in the interest of political correctness, though he manages to say it with surprising sincerity. "Thank you both for defending Aimee," he says. "I know that well all have only her best interest at heart." A pause, then, "May I invite the two of you back to my condominium?"
Kesslan nods at the mention of going "Seem would be wise choice." he agrees readily enough, though as Kelley suggests they head to his condo he instead looks to Desmond and Aimee for the answer to that. It's not that he really dislikes Kelley in the end, but he'd ultimatley prefer to defer to Desmond and Aimee about this since he'd rather go where ever it is they go.
Desmond turns his attention to Kelley then. There is a return of that neutral firmness, though for the moment it remains a common sort of expression. For whatever reason he simply nods once at Kelley in response to the breadth of his words, reserving more in depth verbal comment. At least a generic agreement given. "Let us go," he agrees, though this is more towards Aimee. Of course, given only one location was mentioned, he seems fine enough with it.
Dr. Kelley's apartment is beautifully appointed in white limestone and marble with black slate counter-tops. A stainless steel kitchen sits to the right of the doorway, with flowering plants hanging with the pots. To the left, a fireplace burns brightly. Plants climb out of every nook and cranny of the apartment, including some hanging down from a portrait of an alien landscape over the fireplace. Immediately to the left of the entrance, a waist-high white pedestal sits alone, capped by a small, six-inch high white marble pyramid. A corridor leads away from the door and into the living quarters of the apartment. The living room is appointed with utilitarian, yet comfortable, couches - again, in white. The entire floor is done in a pure, thick white carpet that reaches from wall to wall, save for the kitchen and the area immediately in front of the door, a six-by-six area done in black slate. Plants abound in this room. Though stark and cold, it is at the same time very inviting.
Looking back into the depths of the hallway, depending on whether the door is open or closed, one might catch a glimpse of a working office, with the words, "Emerald Engineering," displayed proudly in wood. A large picture window dominates the western wall, looking out into the gardens beyond. Also down the hall one can see the master bedroom at the end of the hall, and off to the side, a smaller guest bedroom, both complete with full baths. A half-bath sticks off of the right side of the hallway.
A German Shepherd wags playfully at your feet, her tongue lolling to one side, eyes looking at you brightly. Her tag identifies her as, "Betsy."
It cannot be missed, either, that sprigs of garlic and wolfbay are liberally scattered around the periphery of the apartment, along with a bucket of wooden stakes and a large crucifix on the counter. Next to the crucifix and bucket is a piece of scrap metal that looks oddly like a rabbit.
The walk to the apartment is mostly quiet. Betsy is subdued and calm now, and Aimee walks with her hands in her pockets, her face reflecting the chagrin she feels over the whole incident. When they reach the door, she lets the group in, and kicks off her shoes, hesitating for a moment only before she speaks, "I best change, I'm covered in mud...I'll give Betsy a quick shower too..." She calls the animal, heading towards Kelley's bedroom.
Kelley strips himself of his armor in the foyer, careful not to get any dirt on the white carpet. Not certain where to start with the two men, he simply watches her go and says, "She is a fine woman, in so many respects."
Kesslan enters shortly after, pausing then to remove his boots since that's the polite thing to do, though he pauses when it comes to the issue of removing his armor. It's a heavier set of juicer armor, so while it's easier to remove than EBA it's still something tha towuld take some time to put back on again, and he seems a little uncertain of how long he's going to actually be sticking around, and so this time he glances to Desmond as Aimee has left "Would agree." he at least replies to Kelley.
Desmond is silent for the trip and will actually hesitate a moment before he enters the condo. His expression remains set into that firm mask as he surveys the surroundings slowly. Veiling. He won't enter too far, however. Just enough for politeness sake and to allow the others freedom of movement before he pauses. Looking towards Kelley as he speaks, the response coming after a few moments of delay. "That she is," he replies honestly enough.
For a few moments the shower in Kelley's room runs, and then a half dried dog appears, giving Kelley himself a look full of blame before it goes to sit in front of the fire. A few moments later, and Aimee reappears, her hair damp. She has a towel in her hand, and has thrown on Kelley's robe. "She doesn't seem to enjoy it..." She glances between the three men, uncomfortable.
Kelley waits for Aimee to make herself comfortable, while trying to be a gracious host. "May I get any of you a drink? I'm afraid that I don't currently have much in the way of beer, but I do have wine," the man fusses through his kitchen. He then laughs, doing a double-take of the dog. "No, no, I don't think that she enjoys the water too much, Aimee. It takes her a long time to get used to the noise."
Kesslan looks between Kelley and Desmond, though as Aimee reappears he spares her a somewhat pittying glance, for he realizes that this is perhaps not the easiest thing for her to have to deal with, now having both Kelley and Desmond here, but at least their being somewhat civil to each other and Kesslan... well. Kesslan is still largely neutral when it comes to this whole thing. Yet in the end he's still obviously siding a little more with the other feline.
Desmond considers the question briefly before he breathes out deeply and rumbles, "No. I believe I shall take my leave," he decides then, eyes flicking towards each individual still in view. "My place is not here." Simply said, level in tone. Though before he departs, he will look to Aimee and rumble, "Im sorry, Aimee. I will see you soon, my flame." A softness entering his tone for those words of parting. Then will he turn to go.
The dog wags at Aimee, despite the cruelty of the bathing process and the woman responds by curling beside it, in front of the fire. She leans back against a couch, resting her cheek against the cushions. "Wine for me, Kelley..." She calls to the man in the kitchen. She returns Kesslan's look with a small smile, and then she gives her attention to Desmond. "Des! Remember to ask Kesslan about tomorrow..." She gives him a warm smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling.
Kelley fusses about the kitchen some more, pouring a glass of Port for Aimee and delivering it to her. To the other two men, he says, "You're truly welcome to stay, gentlemen, it is the least that I can do for you. I'll be cooking, we can all converse, if you like."
Kesslan is ever more torn between Desmond and Kelley, he's somewhat driven to say something but is hesitant to do so. Not certain he really should, but after a few moments he decides to at least try "As much as Desmond not like Kelley.." he says after truning down the output on his translator so hopefully only Desmond can hear it "May be best to try make friend for sake of Aimee?" he suggests tentitively, though it's obvious that he's somewhat worried how Desmond is going to take that
Desmond pauses two steps along at Aimee's words, glancing back toward her. The nature of her response seeming to give the big male some ease, visible in the lingering relaxation of his expression. A glance towards Kelley and a shake of his head given. No words, just a quiet denial of what is suggested. It will be Kesslan who prompts more from the large male. Though he seems calm enough, if not amiable to a continuation of friendly terms. "Not here, Kesslan. Not now. It is.. not good." Not quite able to articulate just what has put him off. Just what keeps him subtly on edge. Unwilling to linger to explore it for now. "We should speak," he adds to the other feline. "Now or later, but soon." A tilt of his head towards Aimee indicating the source of that. Then he will move towards the door again.
Aimee takes the glass, giving Kelley a half cross look. "Oh no, I bought stuff to cook for you. It would be on already, if it hadn't been for the dog..." She takes a sip, resting her elbow on the couch, leaning her cheek against her hand. She watches Desmond leave, half relief, half unhappiness flashing in her eyes before she closes them with a tired sigh.
Kelley watches the big cat turn and go with mixed emotions. One that says, "Yay, I win! Get out of my house, you rotten bastard!" And another that says, "I don't want you here, but Aimee wants you here, so I want you here." But in either case, it doesn't matter, because Desmond will do what Desmond will do. So.. he turns to Aimee. "You're going to cook again! I'm hungry already." Of course, the last time that she cooked for him, she broke up with him, but he's an eternal optimist.
Kesslan simply nods to Desmond, putting his boots back on. Seems it was a good idea afterall for him to keep his armor on. THough he at least doesnt go without giving some parting word to Kelley and AImee "Good hunting to Aimee and Kelley. Shall speak with in future yes?" the latter more directed at Kelley for he has little doubt he'll wind up seeing AImee again. THough he never seems to have much chance to really ever speak with Kelley. ANd he's still not sure why there's so much... trouble between him and Desmond, yet he doesnt feel comofrtable asking the larger feline that very question just yet.
Aimee half opens her eyes to smile at Kelley's enthused response to her cooking, "In a bit though..." She and the dog look comfortable, sleepy. "Kess, thank you, honey. I'll see you tomorrow. Ask Des about the plans we made." She has to lift her head, tilt it back to look up at him. "Bye, honey."
"Thanks again for everything, Kesslan, I really do appreciate it," Kelley says, sitting down next to Aimee and tentatively going to put his arm around her shoulders, moving to kiss her cheek, if she'll allow it. "So what are you making for me, sweetheart?" he asks quietly. Then, "And thanks for trying to take Betsy for a walk. Now you know why she's mostly an in the house or with a large man dog." He smiles.
Kesslan simply gives a nod to Aimee and Kelley then before following Desmond out, leaving the couple to their peace.
Aimee allows it, giving him a smile that does warm her eyes. "She was fine most of the time..." She comments, in defence of the dog, "Coq a vin..." She wrinkles her nose, "It would be done by now, see." Tags:aimee, desmond, kelley, kesslan, lavache
