Jun 04 21:02:34 105 PA

From Chronicles

Thu Jun 04 21:02:34 105 PA.

Players: Roulin, Aimee, Dr. Kelley, Desmond

Roulin is in the garden of the library, gently running his hand through the water of the fountain as he sits with a book in his lap. Todays topic du jour is the Karma Su...wait, no, that's in a small stack next to him. In his lap is a rather large picture book of 'How things work', and this one happens to be one of the best sellers of the series. "Dogboys", showing all the body parts and different fur colors and everything that a person could want to know...at least, know and not get scientificly or intimately involved with one.

Aimee wanders in, a book in her hands, more an excuse to be here in the peace of the garden than to read. She heads towards the fountain automatically, her steps slow, her expression thoughtful. She looks more weary than before the picnic, the telltale signs of shadows beneath her eyes giving her away, even if the paleness didn't. At the sight of Roulin, she hesitates, uncertainty entering her eyes.

Roulin dosn't notice Aimee immediately, instead leaning back and giving a slight stretch with the arm that had the hand in the water. As he looks up to work out the kinks in his neck, he does seem to see Aimee, though he dosn't comment and instead just goes right back to reading. The hesitation continues for a moment, the girl stood there with her book in her hands before she steps up to him, pulling her shoulders back, her chin lifting. "Roulin..." She speaks softly, her eyes holding a wariness, a lack of surety of her welcome.

Roulin looks up to Aimee after a few moments, in no current rush to speak to her or greet her. His attiude is quite a bit colder now as he says "Yes Miss Aimee? Do you need something?" It's the first time he's ever used Miss before to adress her. He dosn't look up to her eyes, but more around hip level, where he head currently is.

Aimee gives a slow blink, lashes swiftly covering the emotion that floods her eyes. "Miss? One moment, I am betting nights in bed with you, and the next, I'm a miss?" That is soft, but a thread of temper runs through it, underlying it. "Why are you angry with me?"

Roulin looks up to Aimee from where he sits, "Because it's easier to be angry with you. Easy to be angry with the two felines, who had promised repeatedly that they were above base instincts and were civilized. You saw how far that got...if Desmond hadn't been there, then someone would be dead before the day was out. For all thier words, I almost became another statistic of stupid humans who had trusted aliens too much."

Aimee moves forward, hugging the book to herself. "It scared the shit out of me too, Roulin." The words are soft, the traces of anger gone. "I trust them still... we stumbled into something important to Kesslan." She shrugs slightly, her hands on the book tightening. "I think they are civilised but...Roulin, it is different civilised."

Roulin just looks up to Aimee before he says "Yeah, they are different...I was wrong for treating them like humans though. We both tried to do something nice for them, and yet all they both could do was complain about things. 'Why the deception', or 'why the lies', instead of trying to enjoy an unexpected treat."

"Kesslan just didn't understand..." She hesitates again, before moving to sit down without asking, assuming. "I guess it is different there. For him, he just didn't get that the fun was in the surprise, the pretence." Her voice is soft, understanding come at a price. "I guess I forget they aren't human too."

Roulin surely dosn't jump to attack Aimee or whatnot, before he says "I guess the worst thing we could do to them is tell them to plan out an event, and show us how they would do it. Maybe if they provide by example, we'd be less likely to foul things up. That, and we might want to slip them some relaxants next time, so they aren't so...jumpy." Roulin sits at the Fountain next to Aimee, as the moonlight filters in from the skylight above.

Aimee relaxes her grip on the book, giving him a look of understanding. "Actually, mon mercenaire, it may not be such a bad plan... if Kesslan ever speaks to me ...us again." The corner of her mouth tugs up, rueful, a smile lacking any humour in it. "He left me a note, which I cannot read, and his knife with blood on it in my door, and a credit card, with much money on it. He won't see me."

Dr. Kelley walks in from the library carrying a relatively small book entitled, "Schematics for the Sentient Robot." Looking up to the skylight, he appreciates its presence, as the rain is pounding on it from above, in the beautiful light of the moon. Kelley looks for a place to sit, and eventually spots Roulin and Aimee, giving the duo a happy smile and a little wave. However, as he's afraid of currently encountering the two of them, he takes a seat on a nearby bench instead of taking a place near the Fountain. He does go so far as to ask, "How are you two doing tonight, Aimee? Roulin?"

Roulin looks over to Aimee, before he gives a sigh. "Has Desmond seen it?" he asks slowly. "Besides...I don't see why he was so unhappy with you. I sprayed him with water...and I saw the look he gave you compared to me. Maybe Desmond can give insight into it." before his attention is suddenly drawn over to Kelley. "I'm not bad."

Aimee shakes her head, giving a small shrug. "Mon chat saw it, but he doesn't speak it..." Her forehead wrinkles and she opens her mouth to speak as Kelley arrives. She closes it again, lashes sweeping down to conceal her feelings as she replies to his question. "Not bad."

For his part, Kelley does an admirable job of just "remaining friends" with Aimee. His cloak hangs down from his shoulders to he bench and beyond, in all of its camouflaged glory. "I'm glad to hear that, the two of you," he says, opening his book. But then, after unintentionally overhearing bits of the conversation, Kelley asks, "Is there anything that I might do for you, Aimee? You know that I hate to see you sad." He offers a small, friendly smile with warm eyes open and bright. He almost stands to go over and approach Aimee - his body is screaming for him to do it - yet he remains seated on the marble bench.

Roulin gives Aimee a slow nod. "It's likely very bad then..." he pauses, "Still, the bet was won...you are still entitled to what you won, whenever you want it...though I doubt the victory tastes anywhere as sweet as it should have been." Roulin props open his large picture book on dogboys.

Aimee gives Roulin a small shrug, wrinkling her nose. "Non, you are off the hook. The joy of it is gone now." She glances at Kelley, her forehead wrinkling slightly. "Non, Kelley. Nothing." The words are almost abrupt, "I am not sad." She glances at Roulin's book, and then, softly, almost a whisper. "I meant, he doesn't understand what was written..."

Scooting down his bench as far as he can to be closer to the duo, Kelley looks them over with sadness, something clearly amiss. "May I be so bold as to ask what happened?" the man asks. Tucking his book under his arm, he clasps his hands before himself, in his lap, pained to see Aimee sad - or at least, not happy.

Roulin shakes his head slowly. "Keep it until you need it, seven days...I'm sure you'll need it or want it someday." he gives a slow nod before looking over to Kelley, then to Aimee. "I don't know what to say then..."

"Non. It is not your business." She tightens her lips, the temper rising briefly in a flash of green eyes. "It will pass, Roulin. All of it will pass, and then I shall claim my prize." She reaches out to nudge him, "Then, you will be sorry, Roul."

Smiling sadly, having expected just as much from the woman, Kelley rises to his feet and heads back indoors, offering, "I hope, once more, that you find your happiness, Aimee." His cloak swirls around his body as he moves, his large frame balancing its way back inside. He stops at the door, offering, "I hope that in time you may be as open with an old friend than you can be with a new one, then disappears inside, his frame temporarily silhouetted in the light of the doorway.

Roulin looks over to Kelley as he leaves, not really commenting before looking over to Aimee. "Heh." he says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, sorry I didn't say you had to say it in english. Trickster vixen."

Aimee gives Kelley's back a look of real temper, a brief flash of the desire to speak showing on her face before she schools her features, lowering lashes. "You never said, and so, I am cunning... because you are fast." The soft comment is joined by a slant of the green eyes to him, mischief at deliberating flattering him.

Roulin rolls a resist on the flattery, "Oh come on. I'm really not that fast...I just like jogging. I bet if you spent the time jogging, you could be quicker then I. Of course, I doubt I'd ever be as quick as your agile mind."

Aimee shakes her head, the mischief growing in her eyes. "I jog!" She protests, twisting to sit crosslegged, facing him. "And mon chat, he warned me how fast you move, so I could think of something..." She admits, the grin on her face lighting up her eyes, chasing the worry from it.

Roulin just shakes his head and chuckles. "Well, looks I got what I deserved. Good thing you spoke in french and not in spanish, or I would have caught you in the act." he closes the book next to him, "What's up with Kelley? Not your typical knight in shining armor."

The grin fades and she gives a huff, blowing out a breath in an irritated noise. "He is moping, I think. Is it normal here to discuss your problems with your exlover? I think if it were him that had kept me and mon chat who lost, he would not like it if I told mon chat all the troubles of our world." She shakes her head, irritation on her features. "Not my knight."

Roulin puts his hands up gently, "Sorry Aimee, didn't mean to intrude. The two fought or something?" he seems to pause, "Odd then that the fight hasn't stoped Desmond from working on that thing with Kelley. You'd think they'd stay as far apart as possible."

Aimee shakes her head, "I would, if I fought with someone. But mon chat, business is not personal." She shrugs again, pulling a face, dismissively. "I don't know." Softly.

Roulin gives a nod and looks over to Aimee, "Up for a bet?" before he gives a sly grin. "Not the same sort of stakes though. Much simpler."

Aimee narrows her eyes but the spark of mischief rises, "What do you have in mind?" She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, giving him a look of suspicion, deliberately exaggerated, her face screwed up.

Roulin reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a coin. "Simple, Call it in the air, if you win, I'll take you out to an ice cream shack around here, and we can have some late night ice cream and enjoy the stars. Name your stake."

"If I lose, I will take you home, make you steak and things, and then cook popcorn... and show you a film." Decisive, and the brief flash of gratitude at being forgiven is just that. A brief flash in her eyes before lashes sweep it away.

Roulin gives a soft 'huh', "Well, if you think it's fair." before he loads it in his hand and puts his thumb under it. "Call it in the air. I'll catch and flip onto the back of my palm." before he launches the coin up into the air, rapidly spinning about.

She calls it, watching the coin spin, her eyes dancing with amusement once more. "Heads!" Laughing, she covers her eyes, peeking through her fingers, giggling.

Suddenly Roulin moves a hand and plucks the spinning coin from the air. Just as promised, he slaps it over onto the back of his hand and reveals it. "Survey says...Tails!" he chuckles softly, showing the coin in case there is doubt to the validity of it. "Off we go?" as he stands up.

Aimee laughs, tossing her head as she rises. She shoves the book into her bag, a battered paperback. "Sure. I have the food already." A small flicker of sadness in her eyes, "I bought some, for mon chats...they like popcorn." She swings the bag over her shoulder, straightening.

Roulin gives a small nod as he stands. "Sure you don't want to go for the ice cream? I bet they'd enjoy it if they came back knowing that you'd had stuff for them, rather then me just going in and taking it." He goes towards the door.

Aimee wrinkles her nose, as she follows towards the door. "Non, I have enough if mon chats arrive, there is plenty." She shrugs lightly, "I keep supplies in, they both eat so much, mon chats..." She catches him up, lengthening her stride to do so, "And I have icecream. If you are good, I may share."

Roulin gives a slow nod, before he says "You know I've got ice cream, and I live almost next door...so I'll be over soon." As Roulin heads on out, and goes with Aimee back to her place.

The door is open, and she is in the kitchenette, pulling out herbs, the steaks lying on the side ready. "How blo...well done do you like it?" There is music on in the background, a light jazz beat with female vocals, and already, some vegetables are on the stove, a light scent of cooking on the air.

Roulin eventually comes in with a pint container of ice cream, this stuff is the really expensive feel good ice cream. He gives a nod, "Medium rare if you'll make it like that. I enjoy not too much blood coming from my steak...you know, already dead."

Aimee eyes the icecream with a grin, as she tosses the steaks into the pan, adding garlic to the mix. "Me too. For mon chats, they like it almost raw, but Desmond, he is learning to have a little garlic, and a little cooked." She moves the pan, watching the meat cook.

Roulin smiles to Aimee, as he stores away the pint of ice cream in the freezer. "For after the meal, and how about rubs? There's a good deal of salt in them, but with a tasty rub and a good mallet job, you can make some really tasty stakes." It's nearly nine thirty at night, and dinner just now being cooked.

She wrinkles her nose, "Salt isn't so good for you..." She points out, tossing him a mock look of scorn. "Don't you know anything?" Laughter is bubbling in her eyes, in the deepening dimples and the corners of her mouth that quirk. "Me, I like garlic. Keeps vampires at bay, non?"

Desmond comes up to Aimee's door quietly. A rare thing is present in him. An overriding since of fatigue in posture and eyes, yet those eyes are hardly beaten down. Indeed, he seems quite steady despite that sense. He reaches out to open the door without a thought to what is within, hearing the voices from within as the knob is turned, ears flicked toward when he opens the door. Stepping in, he's wearing his new work garb, as Aimee would have seen before. A sturdy pair of overalls and a thick shirt, both resistant against the touch of sparks and light flame. A thick pair of gloves hang from his back pocket and a rucksack is draped over his shoulder, held by its straps. He steps in and is pushing the door closed again as he scans, then fixes his gaze towards Aimee and Roulin. His demeanor doesn't change, though his eyes do linger on Roulin himself. "Greetings," he starts with in general. A pause then, perhaps to allow for a full understanding of the moment before he branches out more.

Roulin seems to pause as the door is open and a new voice comes into play, Roulin dosn't seem to reply to Desmond, instead carrying on a conversation with Aimee. "Good or bad for you, a steak rub makes it taste even better. And...no, not really. Garlic dosn't do a thing to help. If Atticus wasn't as quick as he was...I'd be feeling a little bit bitey right now."

Aimee's eyes warm as Desmond steps in and she does give him a slow once over, her forehead wrinkling. "You look very tired, mon chat. Sit and I'll cook another for you?" The faintly triumphant look she tosses to Roulin speaks back to the comment about having enough. "But it goes well with steak still, and it is good for you." She tips the two steaks from the pan, moving gracefully to serve the vegetables, into three portions.

Desmond allows his eyes to linger on Roulin as the man gives no response to his greeting. Hard to tell if he's annoyed by it, given the steady neutral of his tone. But what reaction there is isn't too bad as he steps in further. "It is a good fatigue," he tells Aimee then before he rumbles, "So too I am quite hungry." An acceptance of her offer as he toes off his heavy boots. Looking again to Roulin as he offers, more directly, "You are well, Roulin?" The bag dropped beside them, the straps of his overalls released to let the top half of the garment hang. And he'll be taking that shirt off as well, only providing Roulin a brief respite from the big male's considering gaze.

Roulin seems to pause as he is addressed directly. Plan Passive Aggressive has failed, onto the next Plan...Plan: Be Social! Roulin lets his eyes wander up towards Desmond before he says "I am fine Desmond. I am not a vampire, though that one almost did get. Pushed and pulled me about like I was a child's toy."

Desmond's removal of his shirt gets him a sidelong look from Aimee as she puts out knives and forks for the food, before taking a seat at her table, eating her vegetables. "They are fierce, these vampires...?" She questions softly, her eyes slanting from Roulin to Desmond, some meaning in the look at the feline. "Desmond, there is popcorn and a film after..."

"Yes, they are troublesome," Desmond states as he drop sthe shirt with the rest of his items. Below is himself, but that seems as far as he's inclined to strip at the moment, walking barefoot to the table. He seems content with Roulin's response, perhaps thinking naught at all is the matter now. Aimee's words are met with a nod and a note of interest in his expression. "A good evening it will be, My Flame. And yes, they are fierce.. strong and slippery. Their ability to become mist.. it makes them hard to trap. But the battle I told you of.. it was a good lesson for what will occur soon. Better prepared, we will see that they are all destroyed."

Roulin gives a nod to Aimee. "The vampire was single handedly trying to break the helmet seals around my neck to get in a bite. Using his hand...to break the seals. I mean, I have knives which can barely nick the stuff." as he looks over to Desmond for a moment, then goes over to the table to sit.

Aimee glances between the men, a shadow of a thought showing in her eyes before she rises, moving to the cooler. "Drinks?" She questions, pulling vodka out of the freezer and pouring some into a glass, adding juice. "I have beer, and wine and vodka." She shrugs, looking over as she puts the vodka back. Her face is thoughtful, more than the drinks on her mind.

Desmond looks to Roulin then and rumbles, "We should stay closer together the next time," he opines. "I almost did not see what was occurring until it was too late.. it is fortunate they decided to flee, I did not envy testing my speed after I struck the one that was harrying Katsumi." He reaches out to firmly pat Roulin's shoulder after he sits. "But I am glad you are well, friend." Of course, he is the one that charged ahead. He then looks up to Aimee and requests, "Wine, thank you." he never drinks anything harder than that and even that he takes in strict moderation. His eyes pausing on her as he notes her own thoughtfulness. Perhaps recognizing something in it.

Roulin seems taken aback at something when Desmond pats him on the shoulder, the human shying away slightly, pulling his shoulder back to try and minimize it. "Brandy if you had it, but, wine is more then fine." he looks over to Desmond. "Desmond...have you seen Kesslan?"

Aimee pulls a wine bottle from the fridge, pouring a glass as she glances at Roulin. "Non, no brandy. you shall have wine." The tone is lightly affectionate and she pours him a glass too, before crouching to return the bottle. She brings them both to the table, hesitating between them as Roulin's question is asked.

Desmond seems mildly concerned with Roulin's reaction, though he seems to pass it off a bit when the human asks after Kesslan. His expression growing a bit serious as he rumbles, "Yes. He's returned and in a poor state. I do not believe he holds any ire towards you, though to be honest I haven't asked. But I get a sense that, with time, what was damaged can be mended." and he seems honest enough in expressing this belief. "Though I would suggest you don't seek him out for a time, if you had intent to." A pause then as he looks up to Aimee, an arm lifted to her, looking to curl about her waist, if she will allow him to draw her nearer for at least a few moments.

Roulin gives a slow nod. "I don't know...I'm just as pissed off with myself as I am with him. There isn't a time that goes by that I wish we coulda waited another few minutes before we shot you two with the water guns." he takes the wine and sips it, giving a nod to Aimee, "What kind?"

Aimee lets him draw her near, her interest in her meal vanishing. She reaches over him for her glass, her drink. "Mon chat. I am going to see him." She shrugs at Roulin, a small smile at the question. "Moe's best." There is a trace of amusement in that, acknowledgement that the wine is hardly the best but not the cheapest of plonk. "I wish we had waited too."

Desmond gives Aimee's waist a familiar squeeze as he muses the two with him quietly. "As I told Kesslan, blame is something that is best not drawn upon in the now. He seeks his share and surely I am not without some stake in the same. None of us realized, though I had enough knowledge of his ways that such a leap of logic was not out of the question." He lifts his glass and glances between the two. "What is important now is understanding. And patience, for the ways of his people are a rigid thing.. he has taken the events hard and it will take time for him to return to where he was." His eyes lift to Aimee and he nods. "He has taken new lodgings, I will give you the address. I lingered with him the night before.. he seemed in need of a presence. Take care.. I do not know that he is ready to see you yet.. do not try to return the money he gave you.. not yet. He will feel much shame before you, I think. And to return the money to him would shame him further."

Roulin gives a simple nod to Desmond, "As I told Aimee, the worst punishment I could think of though for him, is to plan something, some cultural event and share it. Aimee and I planned out a picnic...it's the kinds of things humans do." before he looks at Desmond, "And all we've gotten...well, at least all I've gotten is a very few scattered stories." he looks to Aimee, "Well, it's good enough when served by you."

Aimee 's look of concern at the deepening conversation is lightened only slightly by the small smile and blush Roulin's compliment gets him. "I am not clumsy enough to try and return it, mon chat." She answers softly, not pulling away from him despite the slightly reproving look she gives him. "I thought about it, and I think perhaps I need to see him too..." She takes a deep breath, "Else, by the time I do, the fear I have will have made of him a monster."

Desmond seems confused by Roulin's words. "Punishment? I'm not sure what you mean by that," he rumbles, obviously a bit bemused. To Aimee he nods once. "I am being overly cautious.. I am sorry, Aimee." His hand lifting to gently stroke along her side. "I have told him that you adjust quickly.. I did not think you would want long to see him. I trust you will be gentle with him." Indeed, there doesn't seem to be a doubt in his manner or tone. Though the sense of fatigue lingers about him, a playfulness seems to rise as he lifts his other hand to encircle her waist and gently draw her to his lap, a better angle from which to give her a gentle brushing kiss. After there is a pause, his eyes lifting slightly before they dip to her again. "As much as I enjoy your closeness, I had almost forgotten the meat that cooks. I would not want to be the cause of it burning." His arms relaxing a bit.

Roulin just chuckles, "Desmond, I'm being ironic. But, what I said is true...it's kind of like walking into a mine field. And, we managed to step on one of the mines...maybe next time we won't be so lucky. But...it'd be better to get to udnerstand him better." he looks over to where the steaks cook, "The smell grea too Aimee."

Aimee returns the kiss softly, her mouth curving into a smile before she slides from Desmond's lap, moving to the stove to rescue the steaks from the fiery pits of the pan. "A little well done but perhaps today is not the time for blood." That is more of a mutter than a real comment and she serves them quickly, before putting her plate beside Desmond's, her nudge of a hip against him demanding to be allowed back into his lap. "I think, I would lose my temper if he did something foolish when things were important to me."

Desmond nods once to Roulin as Aimee goes back to the steaks. "That is what I planned for later, if you would be interested. Once Kesslan is comfortable with you and you with him, a sharing would be proper. For him to tell you of his people.. his ways. I have brushed some of that in talks with him, but often it feels I have only brushed the surface. Though for him there is some distance as well." He pauses and considers. "But I would let him tell you more of that, when he would wish to share it. It seems a better thing to hear from him, rather than myself." He shifts his attention to Aimee then, just as she is serving him. A warm, grateful expression raised to her as he adds, "So too for you, Aimee. Perhaps, should he receive you well, it would be time to ask him of his people.. his ways. It could help to ease his shame, perhaps." It seems a good enough notion to him. Of course, Aimee is welcomed back upon his lap when she returns, the big male ignoring his food briefly to wrap her in a firm hug.

Roulin watches the pair with a small smile. He takes out a knife and fork and starts cutting the steak up into nice bite sized slivers. When he has cut up nearly half of the steak, he forks one of the bits and bites into it, chewing it slowly to enjoy the taste and flavor of it. Aimee settles herself, leaning into him and ignoring her food too, her appetite gone. "Perhaps he could plan something then, but yes, I will see him and talk to him..." She leans a little out of his arms to sip her glass, glancing at Roulin, a smile growing. "You like it? It is nice to cook steak for someone who doesn't just want it raw." The teasing look to Desmond speaks volumes.

Desmond seems unrepentant for his particular desires and preferences. Indeed, once he has her settled well in his lap, some attention must be given to the meat. "Even without great exposure to the flame, I prefer your steaks to those of the Silver Fork," Desmond states, even as he starts to portion out the meat his way . Which involves the use of his claws, rather than the utensils. He doesn't even think that this might upset the two of them, this just being how he has always attended to meat. And he's far too hungry to think twice.

Roulin gets up and...grabs himself a glass of water before sitting back down. "Should try more things with these steaks Aimee...not to mention, ever thought about making steak flavored popcorn? Wonder how it's taste...maybe even a bit of warm blood and skin to season over the top."

A brief flash of something in her face too, before she takes a sip of her drink. "Perhaps... we could try it. Me, I like my popcorn with just butter on it, let it melt so your fingers are sticky." She does rise then, moving to refill her glass and putting her plate on the side. "I am not hungry." Quietly, returning to the table, to sit in her chair this time.

Desmond is deep enough into eating that he lets Aimee go without protest. She could tell by how quickly the steak disappears that his new job works up a serious appetite in the big male. Roulin gets an odd look at the thought of steak flavored popcorn, the idea obviously not an instant hit with him. Though he seems apt to reserve direct comment. There is some concern as he notes Aimee's return and the lack of progress on her meal.. and that she does not return to his lap. He pauses his eating to look towards her with notable concern. "You are unwell?" A generic question, though he seems to have specific concern in the intent focus of his eyes.

Roulin just chuckles. "Well, was just an idea." Before he looks over to Aimee and then says "It's tasty...be a shame if you didn't eat what you cooked." He himself is nearly half done as he goes back to start cutting the second half of the steak up into pieces.

Aimee wrinkles her nose, drawing up a leg to hug it and rest her glass on it. "Non, mon chat, just not hungry." She shrugs lightly, dismissing it. "Sometimes you just aren't." She sips her glass, watching them eat thoughtfully.

Desmond nods his head once to Aimee, extending a hand across the table then to draw her plate towards him. After all, waste no, want not. And it shows his delight in her cooking for sure. He'll polish her food off as well, assuming she doesn't disagree. And once that is done, he goes to shower and make himself comfortable. He'll wear a pair of shorts and light shirt for the movie, welcoming Roulin to stay with and watch. Light affection for Aimee is the norm and friendly welcome for Roulin, through the end. Up for light conversation, though in time his fatigue will start to catch up to him.Tags:aimee, desmond, kelley, roulin