The Storm

"Fine, think what you want." Heaving a great sigh, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her skinny jeans. "Fine. It’s absolutely awful to meet you." She paused to contemplate her words, adding soon after in a sarcastic tone, "You piece of shit. There. Happy?"

A gleeful smile made his face and it was similar to what a child looked like during Christmas, opening their presents. "Yes! Yes! Yesyesyes! There we go!" Pointing his fingers at her, he reached out and patted her shoulder. "How hard was there, sweetheart. Piece of shit! Didn't think you could actually curse. How did that feel? Great? Stupendous! It always feels great to call people shit."

Boredom & Coffee | Jonathan & Charlotte

"Ew. Gross.. well at least it wasn’t someone’s half mangled cat or something." Erin dropped the stick before wiping her hands on the backs of her legs as she stood. "Because it seemed like a better idea then grabbing it with my bare hands?"

"You see some mangled corpse on the side of the road and your first instinct is to pick up a stick and poke at it. Hm, interesting." Nodding his head, his hands moved to the inside of his coat pocket as he pulled out an energy bar. When was the last time he ate again? "Ohh, I see. Your first instinct was to grab it with your bare hands and then your brain kicked in and said no. Just as interesting." Humming between his lips, he opens the bar and takes a hearty bite from it. "The people of this town are quite strange." John says between his chews.

"W-what the hell is that.."

"I'd hate to break it to ya, but it's the rotting corpse of a raccoon. Good thing, though. Vicious animals. Claws that will fuck up a face in point three seconds. What're you doing poking it with a stick?"

"I’m not mad because I’m in pain." strangely enough, her voice sounded more hollow than infuriated at the moment. For a moment, Ariel wondered if he could sense that but he didn’t seem like a sensitive person at all. " It is you who i am mad at. Your attitude and seemingly selfish recklessness" actually while it was completely truth that she felt offended by his treatment, she was also glad that it happened to be her who encountered her instead of another person. "I didn’t realize i was being that hostile, I’m sorry" there she goes again, apologizing and drowning in altruism as per usual. "You were being awfully rude, it’s okay for you to be rude but it’s certainly not okay for me to act on it? if you don’t want people to get angry and eventually hold resentment then why is it that you act as if you were taking all of your own resentments on everyone that crosses your sight?"

"Pain from a heavy metal door? Oh, sweetheart. You will get your heart broken a million times - think of this as a splinter compared to what heartache feels like." Flashing her a grin, he let out a hearty laugh - one where his whole body moved up and down as the chuckles dispelled from his lips. Stopping abruptly, he placed the cigarette between his lips and took in one deep inhale. "It's not seemingly, darlin'. Not seemingly. I am selfish and reckless." As he talked, the smoke came off from his mouth. "I'm exactly what people say you should stay away from, but you know what? I'll also give you the truth whether you wanna hear it or not. And sweetheart, if you really are offended about the way I'm talkin' to you, then you better set yourself up for a whole entire life of fuckin' disappointment." Wiggling his brows, he let out a hollowed laugh. "Sweetheart, resent me. Be angry at me. Surely you'll slap me later on because it always happens. It's just a fact of life. I can say when you're being hostile, and I can say when you shouldn't be sayin' your sorry -- and you know why? Fuckin' America. I missed it here. People are rude as hell and I fit right in. But then I come across the doe-eyed girlies like you and I feel a tad bit sad. A tad. A teeny, tiny, tad. A smidge. I'm just tellin' you, sweetheart. Life is gonna fuck you up."

The blond succubus leaned against the car, while she watched the man with barely concealed disdain as he muttered something about people and their stupidity. He looked like the kind who swore a lot and to whom personal hygiene was a foreign concept. As for the car…well the car was in such an awful state, she had assumed it was an abandoned car and had only leaned on it for a second as she checked her heel as one of her shoes was apparently broken. She was torn between paying him no mind and walking away and responding to him. She wasn’t the most prideful but she had an eye for people and could tell when someone was beneath her and that man certainly looked like he was but at the same time the comment about stupidity could have been aimed at her and she didn’t take well to being insulted. “Call me “love” again and I will knee you so hard in the balls, you won’t walk for days.” she snarled into the man’s face with a mean smirk.

Leaning against the cold metal, he dragged the cigarette from his lips and dispelled the smoke from his lungs with a large exhale. Blue eyes flickered over towards the blonde woman, before turning slowly away from her as she snarled at him. His shoulders were relaxed and the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette was shoved in his trench coat pocket. Pointing his fingers that were holding the cigarette between them at her, he turned on his heel to face her and gave her a toothy grin. "Darling, I was merely trying to offer you a damn cigarette and you repay in such a manner? I'm appalled, truly. What have I done to you, sweetheart, other than kindly offer you the poison that slowly kills me?"

"And what are you, into barely eighteen year olds?" Her answer was almost reflexive, smile playful in nature. He wasn’t the first to underestimate her age and most certainly, wouldn’t be the last. The fun therefore, came in seeing just far how he’d take her game. Layla was always eager to score. Running a hand through her dark locks, she shook her head in open mischief. It was the sort of thing she hadn’t done in years, eyes downcast intentionally as she covered her lips in a gesture of shyness. “Feel free to take the condom, sir. Wouldn’t you still use it now?” Her question though solemn was followed by quieter tone, one that beckoned him forward to listen. “Personally, I can’t say I’m a fan of the grape ones but thank you for the offer.” 

Blue eyes flickered over towards the girl, his brow raising as a smile slowly met his lips. "Oh, yes yes. Look at my face, love. It definitely has eighteen written all over it." Winking playfully at her, his head leaned to the side as her eyes cast downward. "Strange for a woman to be so shy when she's passing out condoms to strangers," John thinks aloud, a light chuckle escaping his lips. As she talks about not being a fan of the grape flavored condom, he raised a brow and opened his mouth before shutting it. Placing the condom back in the little container, he squinted his eyes at her. "First of all, how old are you love? Before I proceed with thoughts I probably shouldn't be thinking of."

"Well ya kinda did." Watching the man take out his lighter, Sawyer suddenly wished she had a cigarette poised between her lips, but she wouldn’t ask him for one- was he even going to smoke a cigarette, or was he just nervous? Who the fuck knew. Sawyer didn’t. "Yeah, I figured that much by your like, words or whatever." Wow, this guy was some sort of poet, or it seemed like he was trying to be. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, Sawyer gave a firm nod at his black eye, acknowledging the fact that they probably did hurt. Sawyer’s eyes grew wide at the mention of magician. "Wait, can you pull a rabbit out of a hat or something?"

"Maybe you should check your feelings and read that I was just joking around, hm?" With a raised brow, he pulled out his cigarette and lit it with his lighter. "Want one?" He asked with a small smile, cigarette placed snugly against his lips. Rummaging for his pack, he held it out to her and watched her as he talked. "My 'words, or whatever?' Cool." Furrowing his brows together, he looked over her and laughed a bit as he pulled the cigarette from his lips to blow out. "Pull a rabbit out of a hat -- pull a rabbit out of a hat! Ha!" Shaking his head, he let out a light chuckle. "I can do better than that, sweetheart." Shoving the lighter back into his pocket, he pulled out his hands and snapped his fingers in front of her. A little flame nestled itself between his fingers and he held it out to her. "Light for your cig, dear?"

Raising an eyebrow, Cordelia replied, “It’s my life, and I don’t really think I’m living it wrong.” Struggling not to sound rude, she glanced into his pale blue eyes. “Lovely to meet you, John.”

"I understand it's your life, sweetheart. But it's wrong." With a shrug of his shoulders, he flashed her a smile. Johnathan was candid most of the time, especially with sweet girls like her - it was a way to ward them off because he didn't really need sweet girls flocking around him. They were too... sweet. Yeah, John needed to figure out a better word to describe them. "Ah, don't bullshit me and say that it's lovely to meet me when you're giving me a look that says, Who are you and where the hell did you come from, you retched man. Y'can say it to my face, y'know."

The demons stirred; Terra could feel them inside of her. They poked their heads up like a group of hungry dogs and she had to be careful; anything could unleash them. She looked at the man with disgust – not for his car, or the sickening smell of smoke and trash, but for what he had said to her, for what he had suggested. It stripped away the last bit of respect she had for him, and she began to think of him no more than the dirt on his car. Nails dug into the flesh of her palm, giving her something to focus on other than the resentment she felt for the man as she pressed on.

The memories seemed to poke its head where it shouldn't be and John would have given anything to rewind time just a little bit to take back what he said. Not for her sake, no, but his because with each second that past with the look of disgust on her face, he could feel the memories seep into his brain. The ones that he tucked away a long, long time ago along with the fact that he had murdered his father. Now here he was standing all he could see was little Johnathan Storm staring at his drunken father moments before he would reach out and shove little Johnny into a wall.

"Oh," The word rang out softly under her breath as her gaze darted from him back down the alley she’d emerged from. "I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought…" Well, it didn’t really matter what she’d thought, did it? Still, she mentally smirked as she watched his anger soften somewhat. Aurora’s purse was clutched tightly against her ribcage, and she quickly slipped her phone back in it. "Oh, no. That’s very kind of you to offer, but… I wouldn’t want to impose at all. I mean, I’ve already offended you once tonight by hovering too close to your car, haven’t I?" A soft laugh escaped her lips as she tried to think up her plan of action. Seventeen? Eighteen? No wonder no one took her seriously. "I’m twenty, actually. And, well, I would smoke, but…" She could tell him that she was a singer, but then she’d have to sing for him, and that certainly wouldn’t end well. "I run track at Barton Hollow University, and it’s really not good for my lungs…" She bit down absent-mindedly— well, as faux absent-minded as Aurora Bates could get— on her bottom lip, nervously checking over her shoulder. "I just— I just transferred here, and I’m on scholarship, and I’m still trying to figure out which way is up or which way is down." A lie, but he’d never know it. She spun webs so thick that no one could ever see the light of day from the other side.

He wasn't quite sure as to why the words 'I'm sorry' irked him in such the way that it did. Was it because of his own proclamation to himself that he'd never utter them? However, he was on the receiving end and yet it still made him pissed off to hear it. "What made you so curious, anyways? The words entice you to stay, yet it's your curiosity that pulls you towards the car." Raising a brow at the girl, he pulls the cigarette from his lips and moves his other hand through his hair. "Twenty, ah. Such a young age. I spent my twenty's screwin' around in every way and sense. Discovered myself, though." Talkig to himself, he looks over at her as she denies his offer for a cigarette. Shrugging his shoulders, he shoves it back into his trench coat pocket and places the lit cigarette between his lips. "One smoke won't hurt you. I have thirty a day and I can still run as fast as a sloth," he joked, giving her a wink. "Plus, it's called letting loose." Shrugging his shoulders once again, he leave sit to that and shifts in his spot as he watches her reaction towards things. She looked cute, harmless, but John had been around enough people and enough creatures not to take them for what they seem to be.  "Alright, alright, alright. Ain't got to twist my arms with those eyes of yours you remind me of those little girls on horror films that say sweet things then they rip the heads off of people. Just -- just don't go rippin' my head off, alright? Let's walk. Willow Street, right? I think that was... over in that general vicinity." Pointing north west, he turns on his heels and starts walking that way. He doesn't bother to look if she's follow. If she is, well that's fine. If she ain't -- that's also pretty great. 

"Uh…" Sawyer lifts her gaze to the man standing beside her. Had she been talking out loud? Damn, she really had to stop doing that. Suddenly, however, Sawyer was feeling horrible about complaining about a family reunion she hadn’t even gone to. There were clearly people without such families. Clearing her throat, Sawyer nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess..?" Pressing her lips together, Sawyer stared at the man. "I’d rather not get a black eye though. Those bitches hurt."

A look of guilt flashed upon the girl's face and he let out a little chuckle. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, love." Shrugging his shoulders, he pulled out his lighter and became to fiddle with it. "Some of us ain't got no family, that's just the fact of the matter. Or, maybe we do but we choose to forget 'em. Either way, it was supposed to be a joke." Throwing her a smile, she let out a hearty laugh and nodded. His hand moved up to the ends of his black eye and gave her a slight wink. "Yup, these bitches definitely hurt." Holding out his hand, he gave her a smile. "Johnathan Storm. Cigarette extraordinaire -- you wanna inhale 'em, I got 'em. -- Just kidding. Magician for hire 's what I what I am."

Naomi was supposed to be here ten minutes ago with that bike of hers, and Aurora felt quite unsafe as she waited out on the corner of the back parking of Club D. There was, admittedly, a car in front of her, that looked like it had some kind of parking ticket attached. No, a sign… go away. How childish. Then, she was being spoken to in such a manner that her mother had often warned her against. The fury knew that she had nothing to worry about, as it looked like she could easily take this man and overthrow him if she had to, but she wore her sheep skin well, and if she played her cards right, she knew she’d come out of this unscathed. “I’m— I’m so sorry,” She stammered out, her big doe eyes wide and horrified as she took a step away from his admittedly disgusting car. “I’m looking for, um, Willow Street?” She glanced down at her phone, as if she were checking an address. “35 Willow Street. I’m new in town, and I’m… I’m afraid I’m hopelessly lost.”

Shutting the door behind him, John plays with the cigarette between his lips as he looks over the young girl. She was the kind of pretty that he knew that people would spend their time getting to know -- in fact, this girl was just his dad's type and it made him sick in the stomach. Shaking his head, he inhaled the nicotine and blew it out slowly, blue eyes slowly drawing over her. "Don't apologize," he muttered, he himself not a man to apologize for anything at all. "I'd point you the right direction, love, but I ain't got a clue where the hell I am, either. I've been drivin' around looking for the apartment I arranged for but I was lost and ended up at the liquor store over there. Turns out they didn't carry anymore Marly's so I had to fish through my car to get 'em." Raising a brow at her, he pointed to his car. "You really asking me to take you 'round in my car? I'd be happy too, just ignore the smell of mold." Wiggling his brows, he inhaled his cigarette again and held it out to her. "You smoke? Or you another one of those pretty little girls who don't do it? Me? I've been smokin' thirty cigs a day since I was fifteen. How old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen?"

His words kept running through her mind, soundlessly, apathetically, and it made Terra want to take it a step further. The cold metal of her army knife suddenly burned against the skin of her thigh where she kept it, begging for her to make use of it. But Terra was controlled, and she would not allow herself to make such a mistake. She did, however, keep the option open for the future. Her eyes did not waver from his, even when she stepped away and finally put the much desired ten feet between herself and his car. Some might think of her retreat as a sign of resignation, when in fact she walked away so she would not tempt herself to reach for the knife at last.

The way she looked at him made his skin burn and it felt as if his flesh would melt off in any second. It was like looking into a mirror that showed the little ten-year-old boy staring at his father with so much resentment, hatred, and anger for the man. Attempting to rid the thoughts from his head, his hand moves up to smooth out the tresses of his hair. Blue eyes held her steady gaze and he knew that look - the one where you took a step back only to wait for the opponent to strike. Like a Cobra - cold, calculated, precise, and with speed that would render you useless. Truly -- when you find yourself faced with a snake, what do you do? Turn and run 'cause those bastard are ruthless.

Ariel was in some kind of daze, she couldn’t register the man’s affirmation without feeling offended which was something weird to her, normally she didn’t feel like that with someone she had just met.” Of course, but it still hurts. I’m still human.” she said already trying to calm herself down, but probably failing in the process. “Please do not call me love” the brunette  asked frustrated “I don’t smoke, thank you.” or else it won’t work she continued in her head, as she didn’t believe a cigarette would be the solution to her unusual anger.

"There's a myriad of emotions in the human dictionary and yet pain is the one you choose to get mad about?" Quirking a brow at her, he waved his hand in the air and took another hit from his cancer stick. A light chuckle left his lips as he noted her frustration. Sticking the cigarette back into his pocket, he nodded and looked over at her. "Really no need to be quite hostile, darlin'." Another toothy grin, a smile he wore quite often. "However if it makes you feel better to yell and scream at me, darlin', then go right ahead. Better to get things off your chest then to be holding this pissed off resentment towards people, y'know? You won't be doing yourself a favor. That kind of pissed-offery will contort you until you ain't got any idea who you are."