[Dane Wayland]

Dane grinned at himself in the dirty, water-flecked mirror as he ran a clean hand through the hair that'd been scattered messily across his forehead. He shaped it all back in place, proper and presentable. A deep, self-indulgent hum struck in his throat as he then turned his attention to the persistent flecks of dried crimson that clung to the hairs of his forearms. As he worked at them and the water in the sink danced with swirls of lovely pink, his humming crescendoed and dipped vigorously with enthusiasm.

It always put him in a good mood to start the evening with a little bit of fun. And when he and the burly, brainless man his father had tied him with for the afternoon had finished taking care of Antonio's laundry list of Guild-related chores, Dane had channeled a little bit of effort into whittling down his partner's tolerance and nerves. Chipped away at him bit by bit until they'd ended up baring knuckles in an alleyway on their way to a safehouse. Most of the people his father dumped with him were just mindless muscle-puppets — fit for little more than following orders and beathing those who didn't into a pulp — and Dane knew that was his underhanded way of expressing just how little he thought of him. In turn, Dane cared very little for his father's spite.

On the brighter side, the brainless dolts always packed an insanely-pretty punch that he thoroughly enjoyed tempting. They always got so angry and so fast. It was facing that bullish, murderous rage that really made Dane giddy as they, little by little, broke and bloodied one another. Seeing the intent in hard, fiery eyes as he danced from seeking hands; knowing full well how the thick fingers wanted to squeeze, crush, and maim. Dodging blows, knowing they were thrown with the purpose to break, break, and then break some more. It was positively exhilarating.

But the massive brute that was his partner for the day had called it quits early. He'd begun his limp back toward their designated rendezvous as soon as he couldn't see through the blood dripping into his eyes. Dane had thought it smart to give the man a bit of space. The night was just beginning, after all, and Antonio didn't need both of them reporting back (not that Dane would have cared if he did). So he'd slipped away, stolen into the nearest fast-food joint bathroom, jammed a "Caution: Wet Floor" sign against the door, and taken his time in getting his rattled appearance back in sorts.

Looking back up into the mirror, his song came to a dramatic climax and then faded away. Dane leaned closer and pulled back his lip to poke his tongue at a loose dental implant. He clucked in disapproval then stepped back to give himself one last glance over. Besides the ugly, yellow bruise tucked below his eye and the few, fat drops of blood across the collar and shoulder of his shirt, he looked fairly presentable. The still-healing cut down his cheek that his Mama had given him on his recent visit home — he'd raised his voice and she'd thrown a tea-cup at him — had been split back open by a fist he'd been unable to dodge, but it was no longer weeping. Much better, he thought with a decided nod, before swiping the half-dozen, bloodied paper towels from the sink and into the trash.

He didn't know what he was going to do now, but the possibilities loomed before him quite nicely as he unbarricaded the door and slipped back out into the cheap, dinky restaurant. He considered them fondly as he cut through the bright, spacious dining area with a hand tucking into a pocket and his gaze smoothing across all the couples and families enjoying their meals. A woman and her child paused hesitatingly in front of him and he moved to hold the door open for them — simply smirking when the mother looked him over warily and hugged her son a bit closer to her as they passed. Hm. Maybe he didn't look as presentable as he thought. With the smirk still firm across his face, Dane let the door fall back closed and stepped into the night.

[Deleted]

make me feel it less

Atticus had gotten off early - a rare occasion that he didn't intend on wasting. He was determined to catch himself up, as many drinks as he had served would end up poured down his throat. however, he knew he needed some sort of substance before he began his adventures, and had sought refuge from his hunger at the nearest joint. he ordered a cheeseburger, soda, and fries. making payment at the first window, and grabbed a greasy bag from the second. he drove around the corner - paying more attention to his cuisine than what was in front of him - and nearly smacked a man walking into the parking lot. 

atticus slammed on the breaks, through his cheap corolla into park, and hastily hopped out of the driver's seat. "jesus man, I'm sorry! are you a'ight?" he realized in that moment it may not have been entirely his fault - this moron was out in the middle of the night wearing namely black clothes.  atticus quickly looked him over and recognized the faint traces of blood - possibly it wasn't him after all that was trying to kill the man. perhaps someone else was. he thought about it a moment, before offering a meek, "for real, are you ok though? bad bar fight or something?" he nodded his head towards the man's knuckles - swollen, red, and bloody. he grinned, "can't say I wouldn't enjoy one myself, to be honest - did ya at least kick his ass?"

tagged Dane Wayland /open

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","lstripe"]Dane pocketed his hands and stepped from the sidewalk, head dipped to his chest and an amused smile curled at his lips. Very abruptly, however, his attention was snapped upward as a car turned the corner of the building and slammed to a stop to avoid crashing into him. He did an instinctual skip, hand lifting to the car's hood as if he could have stopped the thing from rolling him over. A scruffy-looking man hopped from the driver's seat and began apologizing and Dane didn't miss the way his eye skipped tellingly on the blood upon his shirt; lingered on the bloodied fingers still splayed across his car hood. [break][break]

He considered getting angry. Kicking up a fuss. Cursing him out, pushing in his face, and picking a brawl just because it would be fun. And because the man seemed more than capable. He was built and broad. The same, or close to the same, height as himself but clearly outmatching him in muscle. Dane could tell he packed a pretty punch and, judging by his comments, was no stranger to throwing them around. It was just the way he preferred. [break][break]

But, whether it was the comments themselves or the way he spoke them, or perhaps just because Dane liked the look of him — with his thrown-together appearance and the face he suspected always held some semblance of exhaustion about it — he let the temptation simmer. Chuckled as he curled his fingers into his palm and lifted his hand to look over the broken skin of his knuckles. "You're good, man, I'm fine. And yeah, a bar fight — or well, close enough. Not as bad as I was hoping for. Other guy threw the towel in a bit early." [break][break]

A car honked behind the parked Corolla, having little patience for the scene before it. Dane cast it a distasteful glance, flickered his gaze apprasingly toward the other man, and then stepped around the front of the car toward the passenger side. "Since you almost ran me over, mind giving me a ride?" He didn't wait for an answer but pulled open the door and slid into the passenger seat after tossing the greasy bag of food into the driver's seat.

[break][break]

@atticus

[newclass=.lstripe b]color:#AEAEAE;font-weight:normal!important;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lstripe a]font-size:15px!important;color:#9F3838!important;font-style:italic;font-weight:bold;text-transform:lowercase!important;text-shadow:2px 2px #000;[/newclass]

[Deleted]

make me feel it less

the car horn drew atticus back to attention as he laughed at the other man's jokes. he envied his confidence - jumping into a stranger's car. after all, atticus could be a serial killer. each move strategically planned out - nearly run the man over, the camera's pick up his victim so willingly gliding into his passenger seat, only to be hauled away into the woods to be tortured and hung. then again, atticus could be the reverse. not that he gave a shit what happened to him. he grinned as he tossed the bag - containing a hamburger and fries - into his backseat and hopped into the drivers seat.

slamming the car into drive and beginning to pull away, assuming that was enough of an answer for the man, he held out his right hand over the console, "atticus," he decided a first name was plenty of information until he knew more about the other man. "so, where'r we headed, sir?"

atticus was hoping he'd indicate the nearest bar, maybe now with some back up they could both find some trouble - the addiction of the adrenaline rush that came with bar fights was much too hard for atticus to resist, and with a seemingly like minded vigilante by his side, he yearned for the opportunity to break the skin of his own knuckles.

tagged Dane Wayland /open

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","lstripe"]The stranger climbed back in his car without any fuss about Dane's not waiting for a reply. He'd been prepared to take advantage of any disagreement or grumbling with even more forwardness; with a night as fine as this one, he was subtly eager to find a reason to quarrel some more. To make the night even more fine. But the other man only tossed the bag of food in the backseat, shifted the car into drive, and introduced himself.[break][break]

He glanced at his offered hand curiously, then gave it a firm clasp. "Dane." He replied simply, quirking a brow as he added, "Just Dane. None of that 'sir' shit, that's... blegh." Pulling back, he then made a show of looking about the interior of Atticus' car appraisingly, prepared to comment if it was very messy. "As for where we're heading, I dunno, Atticus, you're in the driver's seat. So it's pretty much up to you." There wasn't much to comment on, so he set about fiddling with the passenger side controls; rolling the window up and down just a bit, over and over, with the unconcerned air of someone picking at their nailbeds. [break][break]

"You can drop me off at my apartment and continue your night sans Dane." He angled to offer him a small pout at the suggestion, then his expression shifted into something more teasing. "Maybe... if you're nice... I invite you up for some beers. No funny business though." He waggled his brow, one corner of his mouth sneaking upward. "Unless, of course, you're really nice." He snorted and straightened to watch the road. "Or we can get beers somewhere else if you're shy. Maybe look for some trouble if you're itching for a fight, like you said?"

[break][break]

@atticus [break]
Apologies for the wait!

[newclass=.lstripe b]color:#AEAEAE;font-weight:normal!important;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lstripe a]font-size:15px!important;color:#9F3838!important;font-style:italic;font-weight:bold;text-transform:lowercase!important;text-shadow:2px 2px #000;[/newclass]

[Deleted]

make me feel it less

atticus smirked, "nice to meet you, dane, not sir." he gave a cocky laugh as he accelerated, "I do have to say, I agree with ya there. that 'sir' shit is for gentleman - can't say I fall in the confines of that group most days." 

atticus considered his offer. dane seemed decent enough - as long as they didn't test each other, they'd be able to get along just fine. but stuck in the walls of an apartment, he knew his thirst for a fight would never be quenched. he grinned just a little too widely, "I know just the place if you're looking for a rumble." he took the next left, heading towards a dinky, hole in the wall dive bar. right next door to where he worked himself, the place was spilling with drunk, steroid injected college boys looking to pummel the first thing their hands could reach. "It's down town, not very nice. a little dive place - full of college idiots that think they're on top of the world though, perfect place to cause some trouble." 

he considered the fact that the two of them may end up in jail by the end of the night. not that at hadn't felt the cold of a steel bench under him while he slept before, it just wasn't his preference. lucky enough for him, however, he could usually sweet talk his way out of it with the cops. and if not tonight - well, at least he'd have a buddy to bear the burden.

tagged Dane Wayland /notes no worries at all - we make due around here

[Dane Wayland]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","lstripe"]Dane felt a sneaking smile pull at his lips at Atticus' response — a free, almost smug laugh. A willingness to shed pleasantries and manners. A grin that was just a little too eager at the prospect of sniffing out a fight. And the way he accelerated off as an ideal location, which he happily described, sprung to mind. Hell, they knew nothing about one another except each other's names and the man seemed wholly prepared to spend a night drinking and brawling. Dane's lips parted around a toothy smile, infinitely pleased. "Ah, man, I like you already." [break][break]

The place was close, too. When Atticus promptly parked his car in a dirt lot tucked on the side of a building, Dane craned to peer at the bar. It looked busy, crowded with cars and trucks and with people milling listlessly outside, laughing among one another as they shared cigarettes and swilled liquor from clear, plastic cups. He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugging down into a conceding frown. "Yep, that'll do." [break][break]

He threw an arm behind him to snatch the bag of fast food that Atticus had chucked into the backseat and then cast a jokingly-severe glance at him. "You're not eating this. It's garbage. We're getting real food. You'll thank me when you're upchucking it all later." He grinned cheekily, then pushed open the passenger door and stepped once more into the night, greeting it with a tipped chin and an anticipating smile. "Whoever looks shittier by night's end gets to pay the tab."

[break][break]

@atticus [break]
I took some liberties, so just give me a nudge for any desired changes!

[newclass=.lstripe b]color:#AEAEAE;font-weight:normal!important;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lstripe a]font-size:15px!important;color:#9F3838!important;font-style:italic;font-weight:bold;text-transform:lowercase!important;text-shadow:2px 2px #000;[/newclass]