don't you mess around with me;captainshortJune 17 2009, 12:18:43 UTC
Robin, Robin, Robin. Captain Holly Short rather hopes she won't regret this. If he's like that when he's sober... and oh, gods, does she remember what he's like when he's drunk too. Not that she'll ever admit it, though, but she likes hanging out with him
( ... )
don't you mess around with me;winewomenandJune 17 2009, 12:28:26 UTC
Robin, having been turned down rudely by Holly-- expectedly, twice --has found himself a pretty young thing in blonde and is busy chatting her up, in a particularly decent mood today. When he hears Holly come in and give greetings to Niko, however, he tears himself away with a short joke, a goodbye, and a slap on the ass which leaves the girl squealing. Sliding over the floor to Holly, he settles his elbows down on the bar beside her, leaning his chin on the back of his wrists.
Green eyes rake momentarily over her red hair, straying down her neck before settling on her expression, searching and testing, as if a fox looking for a hole in a chickenwire fence. His lips tug into a broad but honest smile.
"Some days I swear that I shall never see your pretty hair outside of that awful helmet of yours again so long as you live, Holly. Drinks?"
don't you mess around with me;captainshortJune 17 2009, 12:37:31 UTC
Holly endures the once-over with a tolerance born of knowing Robin for well over a year. Granted, she technically has known him longer than he knows her now, but who wanted the details, really? She does flash him an easy grin in return, however, in just as good a mood-mostly because she escaped the past weekend relatively unscathed. A rare thing, that.
"I would use a headset, but it isn't as secure when I'm flying," she replies, smoothing a hand over her tousled hair, grown out to a pixie than the crew cut she typically kept it in back home. "But sure, drinks. Go ahead and order-though Niko did tell me you're supposed to pay for your first one."
Reaching over to help herself to the complimentary peanuts, the elf smirks at him. "Or am I wrong?"
don't you mess around with me;winewomenandJune 17 2009, 12:44:52 UTC
"Don't touch those peanuts."
Easily tossing himself onto the barstool beside Holly's, Robin crosses his legs neatly at the knee and digs a hand into his back pocket, pulling out an ostrich leather wallet, slapping twenty dollars onto the bar while offering Holly a good-natured but theatrically put-out, suspicious look. Snapping a few times to get the bartender's attention, he orders them both a bloody mary to start as well as something to eat-- bagels with sun-dried tomato cream cheese; he's been in New York far too long.
Stupid vegetarians.
"What are you doing paying such close attention to my conversations, elf? A man could become nervous, your being a cop and his being a perfectly upstanding citizen such that he is."
break this silence with the taste of something violent;1inagenerationJune 20 2009, 19:36:03 UTC
There's something comforting about repetitive movements- Buffy would have to guess the reason behind this fact being that there was very little thinking to it. Draw, punch, draw, punch- it stung in just the right amounts. Hurt just enough for her brain to register what she was doing, but-
...Was that a snapping noise?
The two seconds in which she was allowed to panic were rudely cut short by the chain holding the punching bag to the wall snapping off with a clang and a clatter, sending the oversized thing flying across the room. Smacking against a wall. Upending the weapons rack and littering shiny sharp things on the floor beneath
( ... )
break this silence with the taste of something violent;winewomenandJune 20 2009, 20:19:29 UTC
Robin was in the office, working on some of Niko's managerial duties for him-- being as he was in the hospital and may remain there for weeks --when he'd heard the noise which was decidedly not the usual grunting and wet thumps of physical exertion (fighting, in this case, and not sex). Nearly knocking his coffee over, startled, he bolted out of the office just in time to see a load of expensive weaponry fall to the recently waxed wooden floor of Hinode Dojo.
At the sight of the mess, and the sight of Buffy's blonde hair, Robin's hands went to his own curly head, tugging for a second before spreading out in front of him, an incredulous, over-dramatic gesture to match the incredulity that spread across his features and camped there. His mouth worked for a few seconds, mobile, before he found his words.
"Kologameio! Buffy! What did you do-- you are not pinning this on me. I am the pinner in any given situation, not the pinned, do you understand? Goddamn."
break this silence with the taste of something violent;1inagenerationJune 20 2009, 20:25:41 UTC
Oh, crap. Why is it that the only time she's broken something major in weeks is the day that Robin decides not to slack off? She groans audibly before moving over to assess the damage. "It's not that bad. Really. I can just um- pick this up. And put this....here." she gingerly picks up the now-broken rack and a few weapons on the floor, trying not to cut herself in the process.
And then she turns around and hisses, "You are not telling Niko about this."
Hospitalized or not, Buffy had absolute faith in Niko's ability to be stern and frankly, terrifying. Apocalypses and scary monsters had nothing on him.
break this silence with the taste of something violent;winewomenandJune 20 2009, 20:33:38 UTC
His hands found the way to his face and he scrubbed for a moment, shaking his head back and forth and moaning under his breath. Finally, he gathered himself and, throwing his tie over his shoulder, he gingerly made his way through the pile of well-sharpened katanas and tangled fencing foils in his shiny black Oxfords, eventually reaching Buffy and pointing at the broken chain connected to the fallen punching bag.
"You. That. I'll...get this back on the wall. Don't cut yourself, or we'll be here hours cleaning off the overpriced cutlery."
He held out two hands, wagging his fingers and gesturing for Buffy to hand it over to him, bottom lip pressed between immaculately white, straight incisors.
"Neither one of us is telling Niko about this. Do I look terminally stupid, or just like a useless lapdog? We would both be up to our necks in forlorn steel-colored glowers. No thank you."
Mercy had spent a good chunk of the night cleaning and doing odd jobs at Lux, then she slipped back into the house to sleep for a few hours before sneaking out early in the morning again to wander aimlessly.
After a number of hours she'd found herself back at the dojo where at least she could stretch out and work on her form while she decided what her next move was.
For someone as shiftless as Robin, he was always surprisingly diligent when working, one to show up early, go home late and not miss a workday without a good reason. He was naturally opening at the dojo that day, and when he heard the noise of someone entering.
Curiosity getting the better of him, as usual, he went out to see who it was, leaning against the wall to watch quietly.
"Mercedes. Good morning. How is our favorite part-time canid?"
Mercy'd heard someone come in, knew it was someone who worked here since his scent was all through the place, but hadn't bothered to look up till the man spoke. She'd have known if he meant her harm, but curiosity had been at the forefront.
She paused and looked over. "I'd say you have me at a disadvanatge, but you have to be Robin."
"Don't stop on account of me," he mumbled with a broad yawn, although the bright curiosity which never left his eyes betrayed the gesture. He kicked off of the wall and went to quickly unlock some of the weapons on the wall racks, in the off chance she wanted to try one. The scent of him would have been markedly inhuman; over-ripe fruit, moss and potting soil. Too earthy.
"That's right, isn't it. I've seen your face. Both of your faces. But you haven't seen mine-- well, until just now. It's a pleasure to meet a friend of Kyle's."
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Green eyes rake momentarily over her red hair, straying down her neck before settling on her expression, searching and testing, as if a fox looking for a hole in a chickenwire fence. His lips tug into a broad but honest smile.
"Some days I swear that I shall never see your pretty hair outside of that awful helmet of yours again so long as you live, Holly. Drinks?"
Reply
"I would use a headset, but it isn't as secure when I'm flying," she replies, smoothing a hand over her tousled hair, grown out to a pixie than the crew cut she typically kept it in back home. "But sure, drinks. Go ahead and order-though Niko did tell me you're supposed to pay for your first one."
Reaching over to help herself to the complimentary peanuts, the elf smirks at him. "Or am I wrong?"
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Easily tossing himself onto the barstool beside Holly's, Robin crosses his legs neatly at the knee and digs a hand into his back pocket, pulling out an ostrich leather wallet, slapping twenty dollars onto the bar while offering Holly a good-natured but theatrically put-out, suspicious look. Snapping a few times to get the bartender's attention, he orders them both a bloody mary to start as well as something to eat-- bagels with sun-dried tomato cream cheese; he's been in New York far too long.
Stupid vegetarians.
"What are you doing paying such close attention to my conversations, elf? A man could become nervous, your being a cop and his being a perfectly upstanding citizen such that he is."
Reply
...Was that a snapping noise?
The two seconds in which she was allowed to panic were rudely cut short by the chain holding the punching bag to the wall snapping off with a clang and a clatter, sending the oversized thing flying across the room. Smacking against a wall. Upending the weapons rack and littering shiny sharp things on the floor beneath ( ... )
Reply
At the sight of the mess, and the sight of Buffy's blonde hair, Robin's hands went to his own curly head, tugging for a second before spreading out in front of him, an incredulous, over-dramatic gesture to match the incredulity that spread across his features and camped there. His mouth worked for a few seconds, mobile, before he found his words.
"Kologameio! Buffy! What did you do-- you are not pinning this on me. I am the pinner in any given situation, not the pinned, do you understand? Goddamn."
Reply
And then she turns around and hisses, "You are not telling Niko about this."
Hospitalized or not, Buffy had absolute faith in Niko's ability to be stern and frankly, terrifying. Apocalypses and scary monsters had nothing on him.
Reply
"You. That. I'll...get this back on the wall. Don't cut yourself, or we'll be here hours cleaning off the overpriced cutlery."
He held out two hands, wagging his fingers and gesturing for Buffy to hand it over to him, bottom lip pressed between immaculately white, straight incisors.
"Neither one of us is telling Niko about this. Do I look terminally stupid, or just like a useless lapdog? We would both be up to our necks in forlorn steel-colored glowers. No thank you."
Reply
After a number of hours she'd found herself back at the dojo where at least she could stretch out and work on her form while she decided what her next move was.
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Curiosity getting the better of him, as usual, he went out to see who it was, leaning against the wall to watch quietly.
"Mercedes. Good morning. How is our favorite part-time canid?"
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She paused and looked over. "I'd say you have me at a disadvanatge, but you have to be Robin."
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"That's right, isn't it. I've seen your face. Both of your faces. But you haven't seen mine-- well, until just now. It's a pleasure to meet a friend of Kyle's."
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