Scenario Entitled: 2 Girls + 2 Guys = ?
Characters:
Gareth, gym-owning lech with a brutally butchered accent.
Alejandra, mage by trade, gym masseuse on the side.
Rooke, sporty gal, frequently 'out of town', this time 'out to lunch'.
Lake, the Freelancer who knew too much.
Location: G's Spot Gym, a happenin' place for the full work-out crowd.
Date: It is Moon Day, Samhain 26th, 109 P.A.
Gareth currently languishes against the kiosk in a horrible slouchy posture and sipping on a beverage served in a wooden mug. Whatever the liquid is, it has given him a light blue moustache of residue. Ol'Joe is working on playing a game of chess with himself and concentrating on not giving up the ghost in his frail age. The gym is only half full at the present time. Perhaps everyone is still at lunch or doing something horrific like working for a living.
Speaking of work... Alejandra pushes on out of the changeroom, drying her hands on a towel that gets dropped in a convenient bin. All swaying hips and laughing smile, she crosses through the half-empty room at an idle pace, dispensing blown kisses and winks to the patrons as she goes. Her course is set for Gareth at the moment.
Work? The devil you say. There's more important things out there than honest work.. like, for instance, looking great in a swimsuit competition. And Rooke's been eyeing that new one-piece by Figaro that's simply to die for. And that's why she's here, in the gathering place of the Extremely Vain and Oh So Buff. And walking right up to the Spokesman himself. "Gareth," she smiles, sidling up against the counter of the kiosk. "Don't you know that Blue Cheese Ranch Dressing is a condiment, not a drink? Joe." She glances at the old codger, gaze dropping to the chess board to see who's winning.
Lake trudges his way through the entrance, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand as he winces softly. He lets his head turn softly to take a look at his surroundings, noting those present with about the same level interest. Now if only it seemed like a pleasant thing. He manages to exude some semblance of a congenial look before slowly making his way over towards the most popular spot in all of G's... the kiosk.
Gareth lowers his mug and laps at the corners of his mouth with his tongue. "Whuzzat?" He places the remains of his drink, which bears a lovely ~G~ carved into it's side, onto the kiosk counter. Just before he wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his semi-new duds, the old codger behind kiosk harumphs sternly and Gareth aborts his manuver. Ol'Joe then swivels the chess board around and contemplates his next move against himself. Looking slightly admonished, Gareth directs his demeanor into a cheery one and addresses Rooke. "Aye aye...This be gud gud stoof. No bloody cheeze. All vit-a-mins, S'truth. Make me burst with bloody mach-is-moo'n a gud smell ta boot. Aye, look't yew...'airs grow'n back. Tha's gud. Femmes look bett'ah with long 'air."
"So you like mine, Gareth?" is Alejandra's crooned question as she sidles on up to the large gentleman in question. She doesn't wait for permission to slide an arm 'round his waist, relaxing real close-and-personal like she belongs attached to his hip. A smile is flashed down at Rooke, "Hola," and given to Joe next - he gets a wink too.
Rooke looks up from her lean into the counter, her tote bag sliding down her shoulder and flumping against the backsplash. "Sorry you feel that way," she growls good-naturedly, her gaze flicking over to Alejandra, and taking in, reactively, the other woman's amazingly long dark curls. "It may be true, but I think I'll probably keep it short from now on.. I've found it much more practical.. and besides, there's no getting around that awful halfway stage between short and long, hum?" She drops a quick, short wink, and adds, "Heya Alej.. there you are.." Reaching down to bring the totebag up and onto the counter, her peripheral gaze finds Lake, and she turns her head while still stooped over. Regarding him with a return to sobriety, she slowly straightens back up, wordlessly.
Such unwarranted foreboding. What's to say that Lake isn't chock full of pleasantness and goodwill on this day? What's to say that he isn't completely willing to forget all the stigma that comes from not having hair on his head? What's to say that he doesn't have a million things on his mind that would completely disrupt the lives of all around him? He's to say, assuming he ever manages to open his mouth. Making his way up to the general kiosk area, he sidles up to a spot that's relatively clear of the others (the place is only so big, after all). Taking a long breath, he settles into a short, but pleasant enough, "Hi, guys. We having a meeting or something?" He gives the group a careful set of short glances, somehow pausing on Alej just long enough to give her an extra odd blink or two. Maybe there is something to long hair.
Gareth purses his lips and his eyebrows go up in surprise at Alejandra's sudden presence. It's definitely something he'll never refuse. He chortles and then sends his tongue off to his upper lip to start ridding himself of his pseudo-moustache. After retracting the blue-tinted tongue he says, "O'course. Yer 'air always be purrty'n smell really gud, S'truth." Ol'Joe smiles at Alejandra and Rooke, crinkling his face into a network of further wrinkles and creases. He even cackles faintly to himself. Still got it when it comes to the ladies. Gareth rambles to Rooke, a minty waft of scent coming from his breath. "Naw naw, gots ta grow't long'n silky'r long'n wiggly. Short 'air is fer blokes'n limpies'r femmes tha butt'ah their muffins on tha oth'ah side. Femmes gots'ta 'ave long 'air so blokes kin watch't swish'n swash, S'truth." He adds seriously. "See'n long 'air stretches a blokes stitchies, S'truth. Aye...Lake. 'Aven't seen yew in a wee bit. 'Ows yer kit these days? Come fer a gud gud work'oot?"
Laughter colors Alejandra's voice, "I do try to keep it smelling good, yes." She flashes her grin over at Lake next, since he hasn't gotten one yet, then settles into silence. The drape against Gareth's side remains for now - a comfortable enough spot to lean.
Rooke turns a little, sidling over a bit more towards Gareth to give Lake some room, and leans back against the counter, looking side to side between the three. Aside from an irritated look at Gareth, she makes no further sign of whether his detailed opinion has swayed her choice of coiffures. "I don't know.. is this a meeting?" she asks the group at large, then glances back at Lake for his answer to Gareth's query.
Lake furrows his forehead a little at Gareth's commentary. Of course, having to sort through Gareth's dialogue can be difficult enough on a bad day. All things being equal though, Lake takes some comfort in the fact that the question directed at him has nothing to do with the previous statements. He makes an uncomfortable nod, starting slowly, "My, uh... kit's doing just fine, I imagine..." Shouldn't he know how his kit's doing. What the heck is a kit? These are things he'll need to confirm some later time. As it is, he props one hand against the base of the kiosk. "I suppose I was looking for a workout. It's odd we haven't run into each other that much. I've been around a bit more than I used to. I guess it's my odd hours."
Gareth nods. "Aye, too busy ta get t'gethah seems ta be tha usual way tha things go these days, S'truth." He sticks out his tongue and gives a big raspberry ~phttppt~ to make clear his feelings on the matter. "Whut would we 'ave a meet'n ov'ah anyway?" He raises a hand to scratch at the underside of his chin. "We all be fine fine. No trubbles. No sign'o pokos trying ta kill me. No sign 'o oth'ah freaks trying ta kill'us. Busy-ness is gud. O'course, we all overdue fer a big wham-bam get t'gethah. Brill'nt thought aye? Course it is!" His grey matter is spiked with a thought and he starts rummaging in his pocket. "Aye..almost fergot. Bloody 'ell...Aley, gots yew sum profits...Wink wink'n all tha." He pulls out a handfull of credit chips.
Faint amusement filters through Alejandra's words, "Do you have to leave it in so many chips, Gareth?" She reaches out to accept the handful, a few spilling out onto the kiosk. That Rooke and Lake are watching the trade doesn't seem to bother her much, since she simply shoves them across to Joe, "Give me bigger bills, Joe? Pretty please?" She even flutters her lashes at him hopefully before her grin returns.
Rooke listens idly to the chatter, and doesn't react as irritably as she might to Gareth's determinedly oblivious joviality. Her head starts to bob slowly and patiently, a nonchalantly interested cast to her expression coupled with a light, pondering frown. As Gareth starts flashing cred about, she seems to lose interest, turning back to the counter and picking up one of the folded towels there. Of course with Alejandra pushing lumps of cash about the counter, she can't help but examine the amounts, glancing over at the other woman a bit curiously. "What's that.. tips and stuff?" she asks dubiously.
So smooth, so rich, so beautiful... but enough about the shiny new 5 cred chips. Lake draws his already divided attention away from the one thing it's easy to disregard (what with it not being his money), glancing up at Gareth for a moment to comment, "Oh, by the by, Gareth. I needed to talk to you about something..." He bites the edge of his lip for a second before adding thoughtfully, "But it should probably wait for some other time. It's really not a good day for it, again." There's a hint discomfort in his voice that's mirrored in his face, but he shakes it off with a brief turn of his head.
Ol'Joe, very engrossed in his game, looks up at Alejandra's request with a slack jaw. He apparently caught enough however as he slowly rakes the collection of chips towards him where they in turn rattle down upon another lower counter where he can count it out. And counting them out entails pointing at each chip and mouthing the amount as it climbs. Gareth offers a small grumbling apology to Alejandra. Something about all he had at the time. Gareth offers a cheery smile to Rooke and decides to ask something completely unrelated. "So, where yew been 'iding lately Rooke? Af'tah tha concert I saw purrty mooch nuthin'o yew. Course...I been busy with meet'ns with import'nt peep-les'n stoof, so mebbe tha's tha reason." He comments to Lake, his brows furrowing a little and his good cheer dimming a bit. "Aye? Yew sure? I be 'ere'n everythin. Whut it be a-boot? Busy-ness'o some sort...mebbe a wee ru-mah I might need a 'eads-oop on?"
"Remind me to give you a kiss later," Alejandra orders Joe. A sidelong glance is slanted at Lake, lips quirking up into a smile that she can't quite hide. So she dips her head, curls tumbling forward to hide her face as she looks to Rooke. "Tips and stuff, sure." And that's all she says about that.
Rooke blinks a little. Why are people acting strangely, or more strangely than usual, even? Between Gareth's minty breath, Alejandra's minty hair, and Lake's... minty something, she's feeling oddly left out. Oh wait.. there's that old roll of Coolios candy in her tote bag. Maybe that will put her in the 'know'. Drawing away from the kiosk, with both towel and totebag in her hands, she puts a few steps between her and the counter, and pauses, cocking her head at Gareth. "Uh.. what? Oh.. yeah, I've been around.. except for these last two weeks, of course." Okay, so she's 'been around' for about five days in total this month. "I was outta town on a trip."
Lake seems to wince a little as Gareth and Rooke play question and answer, then purses his lip in a brief thought. He uses a hand to make a point of a gesture at Gareth. "Uh... more that last one, Gareth. But it's nothing entirely pressing..." He gives Alejandra a brief glance before he adds in a bit of a downtrend, "I don't think I'm in the right mindset for it today, is all." His head pops up a bit as he suddenly pipes up, "Oh, that reminds me. Loralei said to say hi. She said something about getting a grand tour one of these days... getting all ox-strong... it kind of loses something in the translation, I think." He makes a brief shrug and settles into silence again.
Ol'Joe has finished tallying everything up and now goes through the arthritic motions of placing ten lovely 50 credit chips side by side up on the counter by Alejandra. He smiles all wrinkly like and shudders with small coughing chuckles. Gareth yammers, "A trip out'ah town? Tha might be fun sumtime. O'course, I can't stand bloody camping 'oot doors. B'sides, there ain't nuthin 'ootside a city tha be very inter-estin. Whut...just trees'n bugs'n faeries. An them stink'n yobbos tha live 'oot there ain't too intelly-gent." He taps the side of his head with a big finger. "Naw, yew shud stay inn'ah city. Wildy-ness be a bloody pain inn'ah caboose." Lake's comments have his curiosity peaked and he replies, "Aye...well, bett'ah soon'ah then bloody late'ah. If it be a rum'ah, it'll be bloody useless if it be oot'ah date, S'truth. Lora-lei? Dunna recall...Ah, now I do. Aye, she shud git 'er caboose 'oop 'ere soon an I culd give'r a tour, S'truth. Glad ta see she be all remember'n like. Every bloke'n femme shud come 'oop 'ere'n git a gud work'oot." With the added stipulation that they pay him loads of money of course.
Alejandra reminds, "Don't forget your kiss," as she plucks up the chips and tucks them away into the small side pocket of her dress. All that money just tucked away like it's nothing. "I don't get many women asking for a massage," is noted to Lake. "Ask your friend to come over so I can keep in practice?" A heartbeat or two passes before she sends a grin over at Rooke, "Unless you want to help me instead, Rooke?"
Rooke looks down, busily slinging her towel through the loops of her bag's handles, and reshouldering the thing, before she pauses lengthily to regard each of her friends with slow, casual observation. Her gaze on Gareth is one of a wearing thin patience.. he /is/ getting awfully bossy lately, with his 'yew shud do this'es and 'yew gotsta do thah'ses, or is it just her that notices? Maybe his respect for her is directly proportionate to the length of her hair. That strange-but-entirely-possible fancy causes her to smile grimly. So Alejandra's comments and subsequent overture sneak in under her guard, and has her blinking back towards the woman, questioningly. "Hem..? Sure, I guess I could help out.. what with?"
Lake points out to Gareth, "It'll be soon. On both counts. Loralei'll be here any day now, I'd imagine..." He blinks a bit awkwardly at Alej's initial query to him, giving her a brief arc of an eyebrow before he starts uncertainly, "I'll... ask her, sure..." Just what is she thinking about, anyway? And of course the same thought can be mirrored a few seconds later when Rooke absently volunteers for things she knows not. Lake's forehead furrows a little uncomfortably, and he turns to head towards the changeroom with a quick motion that has him headed in that direction before he can manage to stammer out something along the lines of 'I'll be right back'. At this rate, they'll be no complaints about a lack of hot water today.
Ye old codger Joe practically cackles with glee and then gets down and dirty with his game of chess. Young people these days, so vibrant and full of life with their words and promises. It's almost enough to give him a heart attack one of these days. Gareth turns to look at Joe's gleeful state and curls his lip. "C'mon...dunna bust sumpthin import'nt yew old sod. Look at'm...prubbly pleased as bloody punch fer tha rest'o tha day. Prubbly start wear'n those 'orrible 'ats a-gain if yew en-courage lively be-havior'n tha old coot." He turns his gaze back to the gathering of companions, rolling his eyes in their sockets. He nods to Lake and appropriately has a whole gamut of wild untamed fantasies of Alejandra massaging Rooke, Rooke massaging Alejandra, everyone massaging Gareth, Gareth being crowned grand administrator of spankings for Tolkeen and so on.
<<OOC>> Rooke laughs. Out. Loud.
<<OOC>> Alejandra dies.
<<OOC>> Lake says, "Why? Just... why? :)"
<<OOC>> Gareth says, "And Lake can help. Fetch me...my sceptre of paddling post haste! :}"
The smile Alejandra gives Rooke is all innocence. "Thanks, I can always use the help keeping in practice. How does... day after next sound?" Nope, she hasn't explained exactly what she's talking about yet. She switches her lean from Gareth over to the kiosk, watching Rooke expectantly all the while.
Rooke missed something. People are acting strangely again. Rooke looks ponderously over to where Lake is beating a retreat to the changeroom, while giving a mild shrug and nodding her head minutely a few times in reply to Alejandra. She keeps nodding as she turns back to those who are left, flickering her gaze between Gareth, Ol'Joe, and Lady Vague. "Sounds all right to me.. Here, I guess?" She gestures over to the quarter of the room that's lined with blue mat. That's the ol' brain for ya; jumpin' up to fill in the blanks to the affect of making an ass of 'u' and 'me'. "What time?"
Lake, mercifully, has retreated to the safety of the changeroom at this point. Although now he'll miss out on having first dibs at the ticket line. Live show! Oils and lotions! Cover charges! Mixed drinks! Someone exits the changeroom briefly after Lake enters, staring back a bit oddly as the door closes. Maybe the source of his confusion is that quiet metal thud noise repeating itself from within the room he's departing. Whatever could the source be?
Gareth blinks, looks over towards where Rooke indicated and then brings his gaze back. Damn, he might not have to install some manner of small hidden camera after all. He really should sell tickets but he's much too flabberghasted at the moment. Boy, has she gotten a tad brazen. Must be that short hair. Of course it is. It adds in with his theory of women with short hair doesn't it? He clears his throat. "Aye...This be just me op-in-yon but if I culd offer one...I think tha would just be per-fect. An I think I culd arrange me schedule ta make sure I culd be a-round ta 'elp if yew femmes needed't, S'truth." Resist the urge to fidget. Resist the urge to fidget. His nostrils flare and wrinkle.
Alejandra's tongue flickers out over her lips, wetting them before she speaks almost gently. "And you're absolutely sure you're up to it, Rooke?" See? Isn't she just the sweetest thing in the entire world, giving another chance to back away? Ahhh, but there's a hint of laughing challenge to her words now, "I mean, gone away from the city for so long on your vacation, I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't quite ready."
Rooke looks at Gareth with some further interest, and opens her mouth to smugly remind him about how their previous exercising-sparring sessions usually turned out. That's right. Rooke vs. Gareth.. somebody got hurt, baby. Maybe it's her ladylike tact (hidden deep somewhere) that stops her from saying it at the last moment. But more likely it's that rather odd tone of Alejandra's... quelle strange! She shuts her mouth again and looks at the other woman with an immediately skeptical, quirk-browed expression.. that quickly shifts to smiling confidence. "Of course I'm up for it, dear," she tries hard to keep condescension from entering her voice... too much. "It's not like you're going to harm me in any way," she adds generously, meaning, 'I'm not going to hurt you too much'. "What time?" she repeats firmly. "I'll be here."
Lake finally removes himself from the changeroom, which somehow has managed to stay intact. Apparently his kung fu was not strong enough. Or else he's finally mastered the fine art of plastique placement. He makes his way out with his a fairly standard set of workout gear, although he's managed to actually managed to shift from his all black wear, at least in the shirt department he has. It's a light gray, with a sleeveless pullover on top. But not a detonator in sight. He's not even happy to see you. He shifts his attention back towards the kiosk, begrudgingly making his way back over towards the assemblage there. Maybe they're talking about nice, comfortable topics now. Like sucking chest wounds and other types of massively traumatic injuries.
Gareth clasps his hands together, tightly, and turns his attention towards Alejandra. It is very important to find out exactly what time things take place. He makes a mental note to get Greeny and Ol'Joe to set an alarm or remind him or something. And unlike most thoughts which usually dissipate into nothingness after he has them, this sort of thing will probably be kept pretty firmly in the lower and darker regions of his mind. Especially if he keeps thinking about it...All day. Did it suddenly get hotter in here or is it just that minty blue concoction he recently drank? A tight smile is locked on. One must contain the smile to these small appropriate proportions or it'll unleash itself into full-on smarm.
"Oh, just after lunch sounds good." The cat just swallowed the canary. Alejandra looks ever-so pleased with the answer, in front of witnesses no less. "I think... lemon will do nicely, don't you agree Gareth?" But her gaze remains on her unsuspecting friend while she asks. "I've plenty of citrus scented oil tucked away." Oil? She's still not looking away from Rooke, waiting patiently for the moment of comprehension to hit. "It's really very sweet of you to help me practice my massage techniques, Rooke. I would have picked my room personally, but since you've insisted on the main room, far be it from me to disagree." Nearly a whisper, that last, and chock-full of amusement.
Enough of this ticking timebomb of temptestuous tragedy! Rooke looks edgily at Gareth again, not liking that aura of bottled-up glee. Not liking it one little bit. Especially on that sleek, sassy new look of his.. it's just an obscene contrast, really. "I.. uh, I'm going downstairs now," she mumbles out the excuse after Alejandra's initial remarks seal the deal for her, and she starts to go. Then. Wait. A. Moment. Facing the entrance, Rooke goes rather still, posture straightening and arching back slowly, while her chin lifts up, up, and her gaze starts its long, laborious trek back around to regard Alejandra with sinking confusion and dawning horror. "...um. Pardon." She draws one foot back, and slides like oil (lemon-scented, no less!) into a closer position, in front of that wacky joker of a masseuse. "Yes, um." She cocks her head down, to the side, reaching up her free hand to scratch behind her left ear idly. "Sorry?" With a small tilt, she's peering back up at Alejandra, querying softly. Oooh, now's your chance to laugh and say 'Just Kidding!', you sneaky trollop! Don't ask for whom the bell tolls! Carpe Diem! Attention K-Mart Shoppers, only one minute left on the lifetime of a sale!
As Lake approaches again, he notes the movement of Rooke carefully, since he's trying not to hear just what they may still be talking about. Okay, part of him is trying not to hear. But he isn't too fond of the eavesdropping parts, anyway. Of his subconcious, that is (gutter minds!). After debating what the best course of action upon arriving at the scene would be, he opts for the most practical one he can think of... silence. He gives everyone a brief look, pausing on Alej to give her one of slight annoyance. After all, he knows what she's up to... sort of.
Gareth is firmly convinced now that a grand spectacle shall ensue at a specifically designated time and he'll desperately grab hold of what he considers to be one of the great goals of his existance. To view hot massage action between these two. There has definitely not been a ~no~ uttered at any point yet so that means everything is written in stone. He'd better go make sure he's got time to spend unfettered by other much more unimportant things. He brays, "Aye. Well I'd bett'ah go'n deal with sum mi-nor things a'fore I git all busied 'oop an per'aps git rudely inter-oopted, S'truth. If yew ex-use me big man'lah self, I be back inn'ah bit. An mebbe...a wee show-ah, S'truth." He begins to bound off in the direction of his office, giving a small wave to Lake as he departs. He needs to wet his whistle with something much better tasting than that blue stuff.
Alejandra leans forward slowly, taking her own sweet time about it. Her chin is set in her palm, elbow on the kiosk, and gaze resting on Rooke still. "Oh, you didn't hear? Just after noon, the day after next." Nope, she's not repeating the what in tonight's comedy. Maybe Rooke will be able to convince herself she heard wrong, come in, and be surprised allll over again, wouldn't that be funny. "Here in the gym, on that mat right over there." Her free hand indicates the mat in question. That's right, the one sitting in the middle of the room. And with that and another smile, she's straightening up to head towards the changeroom. Lake's annoyed look only nets him a flash of that smile.
Rooke stares at Gareth for help, which proves just what a naif she can be under stress. Bastard. She'll get him.. and his little old man, too! "Yeah, but.. you did say.." she says slowly, and looks Alejandra over ver-r-ry carefully. She does note Lake out of the corner of her eye, approaching from the side, but can't be concerned with that complication now. She's gotta make sure Alejandra was just making fun-fun.
Lake forces a long breath out through his nostrils, finally managing to vent out half of a long breath before speaking. "Give it a rest, Alej. Kidding or not." His tone is annoyance, marked with a decided lack of patience. What is missing is any sense that he's kidding about anything in his statement. Not that it's threatening in any way. If anything he just sounds tired of going along with things. But didn't he actually leave instead of going along. He props a hand against the top of the kiosk and uses it to start a light stretch.
Ol'Joe pops a peppermint candy into his mouth and swivels the game board around so he can try and outwit himself. He's a dandy of a chess player and hearing all this talk about naughty behavior isn't helping him in his gambit to take the black king in two moves. It does however spice up the game a bit to overhear such things. But then again, he's far too old and wise to get too caught up such frolics. His heart does a little jig and after a moment settles back into a steady semi-healthy rhythm. Oh dear, he may have to take some of his prescribed medication after all. Those young folks and their zest of life. After his candy has dissolved and he's triumphed over himself at chess he'll take a few of those pills that that quack of a doctor prescribed him. Gareth meanwhile has gone and locked himself in his office.
The walk away pauses. "As you wish," Alejandra answers Lake without looking back at him. Her own voice is calm and composed, the amusement of a moment before wiped away. "I did say, and I won't hold you to it, Rooke." Nor does she look back at the Rooke in question. "I'll tell Gareth not to get too excited." And away she walks again, disappearing into the changeroom and, one might assume, her massage room beyond.
Rooke snaps her gaze over to Lake at his brusque demand, and she settles back, blinking a bit confusedly. How could Lake possibly know what's going on here? One word. Con-spiracy. But wait.. something else happened, and this time she didn't miss it. "Hey." She frowns, watching Alejandra stroll off into the changeroom. Pause, and then she utters, "Huh. I did say I would." Pause. "So I will." Doesn't matter that Alej wasn't around to hear her speak up for Honour. Honour transcends walls, right?
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