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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 17, 2010 18:12:59 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- Apollo could only nod at the incredulous statement, sipping away at his mocha once more. It was almost empty now, and he held it in his lap with a frown, contemplating how far his money would stretch. Not that money was ever a issue for him, but still.
The green eyed man parted his lips slightly in curiosity as Lariss seemed to collapse on himself, face tightening as he attacked his own lip, and scrunching up as he drew his items closer. It made the blond feel a bit out of place, so he waved a hand slightly in front of him to beckon his attention back. "Do you always sit around here when you draw?" he asked, motioning for sketchpad that was now abandoned before him. He was curious to see it develop, and it seemed like a road block he's set it aside to talk with him.
"Either way, thank you again for sharing your table. You seem quite at home in this corner." Apollo gulped the remains of his latte, giving it a little twist once empty to confirm it was so. He grimaced slightly, his expression dissipating behind the edge of his scarf that chose to ride up once more. OOC;
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Post by a r s e n i c * on May 18, 2010 16:42:54 GMT -5
The boy's eyes were drawn from his charcoal-shaded fingers by Apollo's wave, and he looked up.
"..Yeah," he responded, hugging himself as if chilled and depositing his own empty cup on the table next to the abandoned notebook. Too late, he realized it was still flipped open... though the man had not seen fit to insult him for any of the markings on the paper. In fact, he seemed wholly uninterested, even skimming over the multitudes of song lyrics scribbled on the edges of the drawing, words threatening to overwhelm the art with an inky maw.
"It's no problem..." His pitiful attempt at reassuring Apollo was inadequate in every way, and he felt the tips of his ears redden again. ".. Really. It's kind of nice having some company."
Though the boy couldn't help but stare at the wayward piece of fabric, that time and again was scolded and fixed by its wearer like a stray puppy. "It doesn't seem to like you much," Lariss cornily commented, attempting to inject the smallest shred of humor into the conversation. That was one side-effect of being alone - one's sense of humor drastically regresses.
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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 18, 2010 16:55:22 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- Brain caught elsewhere, he only could nod through his responses, drawn into figuring out a decent plan of action with in the confines of his mind. His fingers moved to his scarf, uninterested now in the empty cup, devoid now of the warmth it had before. Apollo blinked in recognition of the boy speaking, halfheartedly listening.
Until he spoke of the scarf. "Hn, yes, that would be true," he responded flatly, unamused by it's frivolously annoying state. "But it's become a dear friend, so we'll have to stick through the thick and thin." His gaze relocated back to the table, resuming his thin smile to address the boy properly.
"I'm sorry but it seems this room has gotten stale, and I wish to move about a little more. Would you be able to point out some of the finer places around here? I'd go out on my own and figure it out myself, but you know," the freckled man asked, voice getting softer at the end, trailing off into a long winded sigh as if annoyed by the fact he didn't personally know his way about the town like the back of his hand. Sometimes his stops were short, and others long, and this time he needed the perfect waster.
OOC;
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Post by a r s e n i c * on May 18, 2010 17:08:49 GMT -5
A little hint of a foreboding chill passed over Lariss, but he ignored it, assuming it was another cold strike from the door's repeated opening and closing.
"There's a comic book store slash arcade three blocks down the street on the right..." he offered, rather lamely as his aversion to losing his conversational partner - he had grown quite attached - was quite pronounced. "It really depends what you're looking for. This part of London has little in the way of entertainment. It's mostly retail stores."
Determined to not be hurt by Apollo's leaving, the boy's attention was focused on something other than the man - because, really, his blackened right thumb and forefinger were far more interesting than the sort-of foreigner.
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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 18, 2010 17:19:14 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- "Anything will do, it's the charm I hike around for," he assured calmly, not wanting the boy to feel down in his suggestions. Apollo couldn't remember the last time he touched such a thing as comic books or any sort of video game. It made his fingers tingle, and the blond nodded in thanks.
"I'll keep it in mind, and as third's a charm, thank you very much for the coffee advice." He got to his feet in one motion, throwing the end of his scarf over his shoulder and into traveling mode (there was a difference between appearance and need, after all). A freckled hand moved to tenderly touch his pocket, reassuring the small lump of money was still secure before he padded on out of the store.
He gathered his trash, handing it off to a near by server as she beckoned. A small thank you escaped his lips, and he rounded a heel to bid Lariss a final farewell. "And to uphold a gentleman's honor, a fourth thank you for a nice conversational piece." Apollo didn't feel a urge to explain that one, but the oddly clothed, punkish artist would surely come back up as a story to tell his elderly train companions, and he pushed the door open with his shoulder, exiting backwards to take in the final moments he would occupy the quaint cafe. OOC; -jaws theme-
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Post by a r s e n i c * on May 18, 2010 18:56:40 GMT -5
"Sure." The one word was all he could manage - the grey monotony was already closing in without Apollo's colorful personality lighting up his corner. Lariss watched the man prepare to leave, hand off his trash to a busgirl with a small thanks - and was thus taken aback when he turned to bid the boy a farewell.
"Nice meeting you.. wait, what?" Alas, the man was leaving the building. When he turned back, the leBlaise teen raised his hand in farewell, already leaning forward to pick his sketchbook off the table. Maybe it was time for him to pack up, too.
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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 18, 2010 19:05:33 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- Apollo back stepped, hand in each pocket as he just observed for a moment the small shop. It was dainty and cute, and he figured he did own his madam a proper thank you. The idea of her made something twinge alongside his heart, and he frowned a little bit at the edges, considering she most likely wouldn't be around for the years to come. Saddening to lose a such a gem, he supposed, but it had to happen.
People were moving for the cafe, the last swarms of lunch time passengers on break, so the blond set himself straight, twirling on the ball of his heel to face forward onto the street. Behind him a lady chortled, suddenly pressing something swiftly into the lower of his back. The freckled European smiled instantly, turning around to receive her apology as his foot landed on the broken piece of curb.
It broke away, and with it he stumbled backwards into the flow of traffic. OOC; NOM NOM NOM.
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Post by a r s e n i c * on May 18, 2010 19:47:33 GMT -5
The blonde busgirl, holding Apollo's discarded drink in one manicured hand, all but scampered up to the boy that seemed to be packing up to leave. She leaned on the armchair that held his things, batting her eyelashes with a "Soo...?"
Lariss was used to this game. Miranda thought he was a hunk of a boy, and had confessed as much the first time he visited this small shop ("Hi there, sexy!"), and he loved her. He really did. But there was nothing romantic about it, and he thought she knew too.
People were just so shallow. Though, regardless, he could never bring himself to tell her "no" - even though she was as grey as the rest of them, it was nice to have a little bit of company.
"What, Miranda?" He held in a sigh, biting his bottom lip harshly as he bundled his sketch pencils together in their carrying case. He was pretty sure he knew what she was after.
"Where are you going? I'm off work in an hour, we can go someplace..?"
High maintenance. She couldn't read him, and he couldn't bother to tell her how he felt. It might be a little harsh, but better for both of them in the long run.. not to get involved.
"Sorry, Miranda. I have to get home. Mom's making dinner and she needs me to run our newfangled dishwasher." That was a lie, of course, but to get the puppy-turned-girl off his back...
"Oh..." She wilted visibly, breathing through her nose. Miranda reached behind her to dump the coffee cup in the trash, but twisted back to Lariss before he could flee. "Tomorrow. I'm off work at six, and we ARE going to do something. Capische, mister?"
"Right. Okay." Lariss took that opportunity to holster his bag and step backwards, careful to avoid the sharp-cornered table. "Gotta fly."
Miranda pretended to pout again. The leBlaise boy strode to the cafe door, turned and gave the girl a halfhearted wave, and stepped backward out of the shop with a bell's ring.
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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 18, 2010 19:57:54 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- If the sound of tires and wailing mechanical didn't bring attention, the screech the blond emitted was sure to bring it forth, High pitched and throaty, cut off with a soft whimper as flesh smacked cobblestone.
Complete pain wrecked the left side of his body, and the only thing Apollo could think was 'shit'. The compact car collided head on, crashing to stop to the left, leaving him withering on the sun heated road. He swore he saw the lady reach out to catch him, but now he could only focus on the pain that was unsettling everything side of him.
His shoulder felt cracked, and he knew what was coating his chin and prized scarf was coming from his elbow.. hand.. somewhere, maybe everywhere from that point down. His lip was bleeding now in small bubbles where tooth punctured skin, and Apollo could only stare in the suspended time with one green eye.
The freckled boy couldn't concentrate on the other thing he noticed instantly, too shaken to drive mental processes to fix the situation. Around his eyes and the round of his cheek, down to snapped collar bone his smaller freckles had exploded into light color plate scales, stuck between transformation and containment in a human carrier.
Too shocked to cry, he lay. OOC; BLAH BLAH BLAH OF LAME.
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Post by a r s e n i c * on May 18, 2010 20:33:59 GMT -5
PG-13 warning for curses.
"What the fu-" Lariss bit back a muffled curse, teetering on one heel as someone pushed past him from behind. There was a cacophony of noise, and the traffic in the street was stopped. A large cluster of people had gathered among the cobblestones, peering at something in the street that Lariss couldn't see from outside the cafe.
He took a step forward and instantly regretted that choice, almost bowled over by two or three people running to join the crowd. Fearing the worst, the leBlaise boy righted himself and shoved his way into the group, apologizing as he stepped on several feet at once.
"S'cuse me- pardon-"
... there!
What was that mass of light color on the..
..
oh, shit.
"Apollo?" Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. It was him.
Lariss was pretty sure there was no family coming, as the man was a fair age and ordinarily perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He shoved aside three people standing in front of him without a word, jumping down onto the cobblestone to kneel at the fallen man's side.
"You idiot," he called to a lady standing by with an extremely guilty look on her face, "don't just stand there. Pull out your freaking cellphone and dial 999!" The boy leaned forward, reached to touch Apollo's face but paused at the last moment - were those plates?
Well, whatever. With no shortage of guilt himself, Lariss held his breath and slapped the man lying prostrate, bleeding on the street.
"If you die, I'll never forgive you!"
Upon contact with the plated skin, the boy was able to deduce that yes, in fact, they were plates. "You better stay with me. I have something to talk to you about when they fix you up.. DID YOU DIAL NINE-NINE-NINE?"
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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 18, 2010 20:45:14 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- He could tell the people where there, just watching on the side lines. His body hiccuped and he all but melted away at the strong twinge of discomfort that contorted his rib cage. Green eyes shut for a moment as he gritted his teeth, expelling any blood that had entered his mouth from gushing lip.
Apollo hadn't picked up the voice from the crowd, until it was up in his face, smacking him. Literally. Most of the force rolled away from him, soft fleshy body protected by animal defenses, but the impact was still felt. The pangolin morpher gasped loudly, his right hand reaching outwards as if to shoo him off, but he gave up quickly, just set on trying to distill the pain with in his body.
Lariss's words registered between a soft sob, and he nodded painfully, ignoring the pain in his temple as well as he can manage. "A-and a ... fifth," he told him weakly, the last bits of logic in his system telling him sitting there without movement might mean falling into something he didn't want.
He was unsure of time passage, only stony faced when proper help arrived. Apollo closed his eyes firmly, waiting to see how long judgment call would take. Trained professionals would be more apt to noticing he was different, wouldn't they? Filling with pity and a sense of hopelessness, he just waited, hand still poised beside the boy's knee. OOC; Torture, Torture!
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Post by a r s e n i c * on May 18, 2010 21:03:29 GMT -5
Lariss' features smoothed into the most idiotic smile he could possibly accomplish upon hearing the man speak, albeit weakly.
"Hey," he spoke, not knowing what to do with his hands other than just.. leave them. One was positioned on the man's uninjured shoulder, the other just hanging with a sort of dull ache that came from backhanding plates. "You're gonna be okay... Mr. Shifter." He said the last bit with a sort of tease, hopefully imparting to the man that he understood, at least a bit. Lariss cast a glance behind him, looking for the guilty woman - whom he spotted on the phone, apparently explaining the situation to an operator.
He heaved a sigh of relief, though they weren't out of the thick of it yet. Just because Apollo could still speak - and be gentlemanly about it - didn't guarantee he was going to be perfectly fine if an ambulance didn't arrive quickly.
And regardless, would they treat what appeared to be a hybrid?
The people that had collected had yet to scatter, still trying to crane their necks to figure out who the guy was. That brought a whole new kind of danger - the only thing worse than the doctors questioning the man was the general populace freaking out.
The leBlaise teen attempted to slowly shift his body into the line of sight of the assembled crowd, in a mild try to block their view of the fallen man.
"Are you feeling all right? ... at least, for a crash victim?" The boy was entirely hopeless when it came to first-aid or even injury counseling. He just knew that he was supposed to keep the man awake, if he had a concussion.
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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 18, 2010 21:17:04 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- He was positive his beige scarf wasn't pristine egg shell anymore, nearest parts soaked in crimson. Apollo's fingers played with the end in small shifts of his index and pointer, smiling half heartily the best he could at Lariss' remark. He supposed the boy was fascinated, coming on as the perfect type to be taken with his 'condition'. The conductor's son also figured it was best not to shut his mouth again, to keep the concentrated tang of iron from flooding all his senses, muted when breathing through his mouth.
The blond didn't manage a response, instead tightening his features as he tried to make the unwanted recede. His nervous system was too shaken, and his body had only taken the natural response, protection. He let out a sigh in defeat, slumping slightly as he recognized the calls that came from the rescue team. In any other position he'd have gawked at their speed, but in his own he could only curse them out for taking so damn long.
"Yes..." he lied, amused as could be in such a state with blood splattered to the high heavens, "just... dandy." He appreciated the attempt, and tried to hold the same smile he put on earlier. He held it as the paramedics approached, lidding his eyes into tiny crescent slits, very well much a mad man. The young man could feel the uncertainty, but something blossomed with a twinge of happiness when the voice asked Lariss to move aside, coming to hover over him instead of his silver haired protector. OOC;
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Post by a r s e n i c * on May 18, 2010 21:32:15 GMT -5
"...What?" Lariss had spaced out at his acquaintance's side, coming back to the present when the paramedic requested that he move. "Y-yeah."
The boy jumped to his feet, pulling his bag with him and stepping off a few feet... but he didn't leave yet. He had an idea, and his own "condition" could prove useful in getting him on board that ambulance.
Professional to the last, he could see Apollo's attendants stifle surprised outcries upon coming close enough to notice the faint plates on his skin. They knew better than to say something, though - his safety went above their curiosity.
Lariss waited patiently for one of the paramedics to go back and tell their supervisor still on board the emergency vehicle about the man's unique condition. Once the message was passed - and the supervisor had a suitable confused look on his face - he threaded carefully through people to reach the man.
"Excuse me."
"Sir, I'd advise you to wait until we have this man taken care of-"
"Hold on a moment." The supervisor met his eyes, slightly peeved at the teenager bothering him while he was doing his job.
"Yes?"
"I think you want me on this ambulance." Lariss held up his free hand, concentrating hard - and stifling an elated grin as bluish-white fur blossomed on his skin.
"........." The paramedic was biting his tongue, the leBlaise boy could tell. "..You're like this guy, then?" he finally exhaled, gesturing to where they were shifting Apollo onto a stretcher.
"..... Get in."The man hiked his thumb backwards, and Lariss could only smile at him in thanks and apology before tossing his messenger bag in and following after it.
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Post by W h e l p z i e on May 19, 2010 16:34:10 GMT -5
.A FANCY MAN![/color] ---- He didn't let himself be manhandled without making a noise to every touch, the paramedics finding away to probe the tenderest of the spots. Apollo couldn't move his head anymore, restrained by the pearly neck brace they fitted almost instantly after moving Lariss away. Only glimpses of faces come into his view save for the magnified light they'd also assaulted him with early on in the rescue.
"Gah!" the blond hissed loudly, grimacing as they moved his arm into a position beside his body, not being overly delicate with the placement of the medical gauze. They'd ripped away his shirt sleeve before he could even realize what they were doing, the workers doing there best to get it done and be away from him as swift as possible.
His stretcher rocked as elevated onto the vehicle, and green eyes slid shut as nausea came over in a prominent wave, only second to the burning pain the people had intensified with snappy actions. Apollo kept them tightly closed, lips pursed on the same material they'd swathed over his arm, used now to contain his facial gusher.
The pangolin man hadn't realized he'd drifted away until he awoke in the sterile hospital room.
--------------------------------------------> OOC;
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