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straylight run; ;jimmy
Topic Started: Aug 6 2014, 02:50 AM (160 Views)
Werewolf
Unregistered

July 25th
6:00 pm

It had been so long since Jack Russell had seen the city, much less the light of day. He had grown so accustomed to waking before dawn and shuffling from one interior to another and crawling into bed after the sun finally set. The last thing he wanted to do was to blame his now little happy family of three for his chaotic and exhausting schedule, but the vacancy in his gaze warranted enough worry in his wife to shoo him out the door for the night after his last afternoon class.

Now seated at a quiet corner of his favorite bar in the city, he nursed a Stella Artois, the green glass of the bottle glimmering darkly in the dim but comfortable light. In human form and wearing his comfortable clothing for the classroom consisting of a plaid button-up and jeans, Jack looked no different from anyone else. Salem's attitude towards mutants had changed some in light of recent events, but he doubted they would take too kindly to a seven foot tall lycanthrope lounging at the counter.

Regardless of his appearance, he was eagerly waiting to meet James Proudstar for a drink. Jack and Jim had been friends for a long time--before the baby, before the marriage, and even before Rahne. Between all of that, Jack had spent less and less time with the few friends he had managed to accrue, and one night of catching up seemed long overdue.

And yet despite earning at least a few hours of quiet recreation, Jack felt guilty for leaving Rahne alone with Greg. Their newly mobile son had now become a terror on the move, ripping down curtains--rod and all--and tearing open pillow cushions with glee. Although Greg now quietly slept five or six straight hours a night, he was an unstoppable force as soon as the sun rose, escaping from his own crib when he felt it was time to wake up and getting into every possible thing he could reach. Needless to say, Jack was hardly sure if he preferred a child that rarely slept but was only destructive at close range, or one that slept through the night and tore apart his comfortable home.

Jack's musings on the state of his living room was interrupted when the door to Harry's Hideaway opened; the shapeshifter didn't even need to look up to know who it was.

Jack tipped his bottle to Jimmy as he entered, smiling shyly with only one side of his mouth. "Hey.. glad you could make it. I uh.. I got you a drink already. Bourbon neat, right? Last time we drank together was my um.. bachelor party. I don't remember much besides where we started."
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James Proudstar
Unregistered

In the 3 months he'd been back to the school, Jim had already found himself in all kinds of trouble. Bar fights, cannibals, charity banquets and feisty blondes all were included in ever growing list of "exciting" things currently going on in his life. Not like one could expect much less; after 8 years you'd think he'd just expect the madness. However, everything still seemed to catch him off guard and leave him mentally (and sometimes physically) worn some nights. It wasn't the world ending/friends being kidnapped/evil alien stuff of late, which he was so, so thankful for, but it was its own special kind of stressful.

So when Jack had called him up to go out together, Jim hadn't been able to get the word "yes" out of his mouth fast enough. He'd cleared out his schedule for after his last class, hopped into his truck and had been on his way to Salem

While he'd sat down with Rahne early on in returning (and little Greg), he hasn't yet actually been able to spend any time one-on-one with him yet. Somehow between Jack's family an Jim working, they hadn't been able to just be friends. Which was really, honestly, tragic. They had known each other forever it seemed, starting way back when James had been a very different person. Before all the crazy, before really joining the active team. Jack had become less of just a friend and more of a brother to him.

While Jim was certainly no gain lycanthrope, unlike his companion as of late, the moment he stepped foot into the bar, he could feel a couple of states. It certainly wasn't anything that was out of the ordinary for him, most people tended to gawk at first. When you cleared 7 ft, people were bound to stare. So while nothing branded him "mutant" in public, he wasn't quite the norm. But Jim didn't mind, at this point he rarely noticed.

With his flannel sleeves pushed up to his elbows and boots partially hidden by old jeans, Jim was one cowboy hat away from being able to hide in a spaghetti western. (He had one in the truck if such a need arose, always be prepared.)

It took him just a second before his dark eyes found Jack, who tipped his beer at him. A huge grin split his face as he walked over, pushing a hand through his dark hair. Sitting where a blessed bourbon waited for him, Jim nodded at his plaid clad friend and took a drink of the whiskey.

"Yeah, thanks man. How could I stay away? Feels like years since I've seen you, brother." he snorted with laughter, a smirk replacing his headlighesque grin at the thought of the bachelor's party. That had been a great night... Or at least, everything he remembered had been great. "If you really wanna know, I'll fill you in, but it might be for the best." He flashed him another grin before he raised his glass to his lips again.

"How'ya' been Jack? Kid being a handful?"
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