#archie threads

Open to: Things were heating up between Archie and YM, then they said something that ticked him off. Get it back on track, push the subject into a heated argument, or into a heated something else. Whatever. It's all good. Open to men only.

“Well, I’m gonna stop you right there, buddy. Just cause I’m a wolf don’t mean I’m your damn dog, I hear the phrase good boy come outta your mouth again, we are going to have some problems.” Archie grimaced and downed the rest of his beer. “And trust me, there’s about one way I know how to solve problems, and it’s a hell of a lot less fun for the other person than you just shutting the fuck up. You gotta say anything, try bitch. I’ll be your bitch, I wont be your damn good boy.”

Basic idea: It's Archie's birthday. He's been on a bender to celebrate, and plans to continue. YM can be a friend he's dragged along for some of it, someone he met while out, or even just a random stranger passing by witnessing his great decision making. Whoever they are, he's about to try and drag them out for hangover food and day drinking, probably some arson and property damage along the way. Open to: All if platonic. Men only for more.

An ignoble end to yet another year of life.

Gravel dug into his palms as Archie pushed up from where he'd apparently decided to crash the night before. Just outside his RV. Face down in the dirt. Perfect. A very smart choice. The gravel he had to wipe off his face, and the red indents it left behind, were exactly what he wanted for the day.

"Buddy, if you don't quit your laughing and help my ass up, I'm ratting on you for elder abuse." Archie slumped back against the RV, waiting until his legs felt like waking up and joining him.

Usually Archie was more careful about where he parked the RV. Prying eyes weren't a welcome part of any of his favorite activities. When he'd left it the night before, there'd been no one else at the sight, no tents, no other campers or cars, no one.

The wolf's paws dug into the dirt, still damp from early morning mist that clung around the trees, and it skidded to an awkward halt before it shook off a fine coating of water. Before all the drops had even hit the ground, a dirt covered man was in its place. Bare feet and hands muddy and blood across his mouth. Long hair slicked back from the damp and only a pair of briefs that had seen better days kept him from being completely naked.

"My ass is getting too old for this wolf shit." He grumbled as he stretched out the freshly reformed human limbs.

Apparently it hadn't been okay for a wolf to nap on a park bench. At least Archie knew better than to struggle against a catch noose, it wasn't his first time getting relocated by well meaning humans. As he was pulled from the crate, at whatever shelter or wildlife centre they'd driven him to, he was already looking for the exit, only to see a familiar face and freeze.

Plot Idea: Archie has found a new, very safe, pastime, your muse is being asked to join in, or be the responsible one and stop things. Open to: All, if platonic, men only for more. Pre-established relationships very welcome.

Far down below where the beat up RV was parked, the quarry was flooded by ground flow and rainwater. Reflecting the clouded skies across its unnaturally bright blue water.

The almost serene setting was violently disrupted by the deafening loud Blue Oyster Cult blaring from the RV’s sound system and a bright light which suddenly sparked up from the roof, and a loud smack sent it flying down into the water.

Brandishing the baseball bat with a loud whoop, Archie spun on his heels to face his audience.

“Man, you gotta try!” He yelled over the music, “Come on, I’ll pitch for you!” Without waiting for a response, Archie tossed them the bat, and wheeled around to grab another ball, banging his head along to the music the entire time. He drenched the ball in gasoline, not caring as it dripped over his bare hands, then clicked open his lighter. “You ready?”

"Well hey now, big fella, you know the rules of the birthday crawl, right? Sure is a lot easier when you're younger, but 42 drinks ain't gonna kill me, and I only just got started. Meaning," Over ten drinks into an increasingly stupid birthday tradition, Archie's words poured out fast, but clear, not slurred together anywhere near as much as a comparable human. "That if you're looking to cause me grief, I'd appreciate you stowing the bullshit for later."

Blissfully unaware of his outstanding bench warrant for property damage, he slapped the bar stool next to him and flashed a disarmingly casual, toothy grin over at the stranger. "Hell. Pull up a pew, I'll buy you a round."

Basic jumping off point: YM knows what Archie is and has expressed some curiosity about werewolves. Open to men only.

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I don't got the knot in this form. Now, personally," He raised his hands as if quelling the wave of disappointment, "Personally, I think the little guy is big enough to make up for it, but if that knot thing was why you were looking to throw down with a werewolf-" Archie shrugged and took another drink, still leaning against his RV, "Don't want you getting your hopes up over it."

Basic idea: A two-fer. Start of a long and sure to be chaotic night out with the two doggos. Good chance of injury for all involved, likely to break the law at least once. Can go anyway, and happy to ditch one of them at some point if single muse is preferred. - Open to: All - Potential connections: New friends/just met, to long term partners in crime/chaos.

"No way in hell, I'll end up hitting the wall and breaking something." Casimir and Archie were standing out front of the store, one with a lit cigarette, other a beer, and looking up to the roof of the two story and change building.

"Come on, little man. I guarantee I can chuck your fuzzy little ass up there no damn problem." Archie slung an arm across Casimir's shoulders, throwing a wink over to the third party involved in their current chaos. "But I get it, I get it, you're scar-"

"That doesn't work on me." Kaz interrupted, intentionally blowing smoke directly into Archie's face, who reeled back and stepped away with a grimace. "You want to do this, we're betting. That way I get something out of it."

Archie's face lit up, and he jostled his shoulder into their friend's, muttering "And you were doubtin I'd get him on board, told you I got that silver tongue." before turning back to Casimir. "I got a hundred says I can get you on the roof."

"Fine, I'll match it. What about you, betting or just spectating?"