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Post by cayran on Oct 23, 2012 21:45:35 GMT -5
Amaury liked to call himself talented. He was the only tom he knew that could down a bottle of Jose (without the lime), manage to make it home, sleep it off, and wake up the next morning without the slightest hint of a hangover. He didn't push his own buttons much, but he had to admit, that was pretty impressive. Of course had his mother been there, she would have scolded him, warned him once more about the fact he had the "gene," and say a few hail Mary's before leaving. No, he liked London because he could drink without being told that it was wrong, even though he knew that how much he drank was a little life threatening at times.
Oh well, he'd manage.
Tonight's biggest decision had been either bourbon or beer. He didn't know if he wanted to go spicy, or bitter. Either way, it wasn't going to be tequila. After a minute or two of deliberation, the cajun settled on bourbon, popped the mini fridge sized bottle and headed to the junkyard.
Honestly, he didn't want to get plastered tonight. He wanted to just sit back, relax, maybe have a decent chat, and call it a night. He had no desire to stumble about or barf on the side of the road. No, he'd be a good boy tonight.
Sighing contently as he entered the center, Amaury glanced about - red eyes scouring every inch of the yard. No one. Bummer. Someone would come eventually he figured. Until then, he'd relax. If no one came, well, he'd make it a night of relaxing, and whom ever found him the next morning would just have to deal with it.
Amaury sat down in the middle of the opening, stretched, and laid down on his back, staring up at the sky. One arm curled behind him, cushioning his head, while the other hand swirled the half empty bottle of bourbon around idly. The southern tom then proceeded to hum a god awful bluegrass tune- keeping himself entertained whilst the night passed by.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 24, 2012 21:59:01 GMT -5
Aggravated, annoyed, the feeling of being suffocated and trapped. Maybe over all just frustratingly bored. Vipurr sat in the den she shared with Carnivallie and her twin sister Vespurr. She preferred to take the second floor. The top of the den was not quite finished yet so she was able to look up and out at the night sky sprinkled with white stars and a large yellow-ish moon. The moon reflected off of her dark green eyes. She groaned in an irritable manner. How in the basements did they just sit around? Her sister and carnivallie were obsessed with being in the den. Vipurr was not used to be confined like this. It made her fidgety. With a split second decision, she jumped through the hole in the den roof. She needed out. She took a deep breath of the cool air. It was free. She lept down the junk pile with the finesse of a killer. She was a cunning queen and her talents and instincts were squandered by sitting in her den. Once on the ground she stretched fluidly. Her nose picked up a strange scent, a tom. Vipurr froze and felt her defense levels rise. She was not used to being out of the warehouse. A scent of a new tom usually meant she would kill them in a few moments. She reached down for her dagger, usually on her thigh. All she felt was fur. She must have left them at the infirmary when she was there. She cursed herself slightly and then looked towards the direction of the scent. The male was just laying back, with a bottle? What an odd sight. Perhaps she could slip away quietly before he noticed her. Her interactions with others in the yard were not exactly going well. She was confused how to act with these yard jellicles. Just as she was about to leave, his reddish colored eyes caught her.
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Post by cayran on Oct 25, 2012 21:32:26 GMT -5
Amaury continued to hum. It was one of those songs that seemed annoying at first, but got stuck in your head and one you'd continue to sing as you went about your daily business. That was why he was humming it. He couldn't help it. It had been stuck in his head all day, and he found himself repeating the tune over and over....
The somali tom paused to take a swig of his bourbon, making a brief face as the burning liquid ran down his throat. As he rested the bottle against his chest, Amaury's eyes shifted to his left where he had spotted movement, and found himself looking at a queen. A rather attractive one at that. Why had he not seen, or better yet, MET her already?
Sitting up, Amaury leaned back on one arm and smiled, blinking as he watched her. "Evenin' cher. Where ya' goin'? Mah' song runnin' ya' off?" He asked playfully, running his free hand through his tousled head fur. "If thats tha' case, ah' promise ya', ah' know betta ones."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 25, 2012 22:23:53 GMT -5
Something that caught her attention first was his accent. What a strange and alluring accent. Of course she chastised herself at once for even thinking that. Toms were trouble, and he reeked of booze and trouble. Vipurr was anything if not adaptable. Perhaps she must give this thing called 'making friends' a try. Worst comes to worse, she would be left to her preferred state, solitude, should things not work out. She sighed and then turned to look at the tom. Her dark green eyes widened slightly. *BAST* she thought to herself. Again she felt like scrubbing her eyes with soap. He was handsome but this was irrelevant. Toms were shallow minded creatures and thought with their loins, not their minds. Her wit however never failed her. "Maybe it isn't the song that's running me off" she didn't quite mean it, but her voice sounded sultry. She was used to luring the males in then killing them. She had no idea how to turn it off. It was her defense mechanism. *Crappp* she groaned in her mind. She was visibly tense around the male. She took a breath and like a switch she appeared calm, cool, and still a bit deadly. Like a forbidden fruit.
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Post by cayran on Oct 26, 2012 23:53:16 GMT -5
"Is it mah' voice cher'?" He asked, pointing a finger at her with pursed lips. His eyes squinted as if he was already drunk, however, that wasn't the case. Amaury was just prone to give dramatic and off the wall looks, and with that crooked smile plastered to his face, there was no telling what the cajun tom was thinking.
"Surely ah' don' sing dat bad, right?" He asked, chuckling briefly as he swung the bottle towards his lips, taking a decent sized gulp. "Ah' bet'cha right here and now dah'lin, if ya' took yerself a good swig of this heya' drink, ya'd actually like m'voice." Amaury chimed, dangling the bottle between his fingers as if trying to coax her to grab it.
Amaury was having a hard time reading her. Granted, he was never good at figuring others out in the first place, but this pretty think was all over the place. Sultry, stiff, standoffish. None of those qualities really mixed, and therefore, Amaury didn't quite know what to think. Well...he figured it be fun at least.
"Ya' new?" He continued, drumming his fingers across the ground. "Ah' ain't seen ya' befo'. Then again, ah'm perdy new m'self." Obviously he wasn't British. Obviously.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2012 19:52:02 GMT -5
The tall white and scarlet princess was trying very hard to understand the toms dialect. It was something she had never heard before. When she'd repeat it in her mind it would make more sense. "Yes I am new, " She said evenly. Her smoky voice had no hint of flirtation in it at all this time. There, she found the happy medium. Her dark green eyes narrowed. "My name is Vipurr not Cher" She said not understanding the tom calling her Cher. Others from his region would understand it as an affectionate nickname. But not an assassin who spent very little time in her line of work talking. She had to get the hang of this socializing thing...for Vespurr. She saw his bottle and shook her head "I do not drink.." she said stiffly. Not one hundred percent sure what the stuff really was. "Who are you?" She asked, her tone emotionless and hollow.
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Post by cayran on Oct 29, 2012 21:30:09 GMT -5
"Vippur?" He repeated, the "ur" at the end sounding a bit french. The cajun dialect itself was traditional southern mixed with french, creating the cajun, or creole sound. Most cajuns still spoke some french, but as for Amaury, he just had the twang.
"Ain't that a different name. I ain't never heard anyone called dat befo'." He added, placing the bottle between his legs as he used both hands as a prop up. "And ya' don't drink? Lawl me hun', ya' need to, as stiff as ya' are." He didn't mean that offensively, however, sometimes (a lot of the time) people took what he meant the wrong way. She just looked like she needed a drink is all.
"Ah'm Amaury darlin'. Maury for short, that is, if ya' to lazy to pronounce the *a*," He added, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Shoot, most da' time ah' am to lazy to pronounce mah' name correctly. Mah ma' had ta' give me one with three sillables n' all, one would've been betta."
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Post by Deleted on Oct 31, 2012 23:53:34 GMT -5
Vipurr's ears laid back slightly. Why would she need a drink. She never needed the liquor before. What was wrong with these jellicles? She remembered to try, keep trying. Slowly her ears lifted. In fact the more Amaury spoke, the more she liked to listen. It was a challenge to understand him. Lately she was so bored she needed something to stimulate her brain. She also thought his voice and accent was somewhat....pleasant. Her dark eyes looked him over but very carefully. "Well..Maury, I do not drink. Besides, that smells awful" She said wrinkling her nose slightly.
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Post by cayran on Nov 4, 2012 22:42:18 GMT -5
"Ah' don' smell anything..." Amaury muttered in response, bringing the bottle up to his nose and taking a "weft" of it's contents. Well, it smelled like bourbon, but that was it. His sense of smell though when it came to alcohol was altered do to his constant consumption of it.
"Well, regardless ma'am, a drink ever-now and then ain't gonna hurt nuthin'." He said, pushing himself off the ground and onto his feet. The somali tom dusted himself off before red eyes met hers again, giving her a toothy grin. "If ya' don' mind me sayin' ma'am, ya' ain't as...cheery as most of the ladies here. Ya' not from round' here ah' suppose. Don' worry, ah' aint gonna hug ya' or sing to ya' or nothing. Ain't m'thing." Amaury chuckled. He of course was referring to the happy-go-lucky vibe of most of the cats in the junk yard. Of course it really didn't bother him, but she seemed a little un easy about it all.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2012 0:37:41 GMT -5
Vipurr folded her arms over her chest and smirked in amusement. "It's a good thing you don't, I might accidently hurt you...or worse" Her smirk suddenly faded. She could have seriously injured Tugger when he put his arm around her. Things were different in the yard versus the empire. She would just have to get used to it. "I am from here...just not the yard" She said dryly. She looked the somali tom over. She had to admit, he was ruggedly handsome. A quality Vipurr liked in a tom. He was at least good eye candy.
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Post by cayran on Nov 10, 2012 23:27:55 GMT -5
"Oh....ah' see." He said, nodding his head. He had recently heard murmurs throughout the junkyard of a few of Macavity's groupies "switching sides." It was his impression that Vipurr was probably one of them. Her demeanor seemed different, and it intrigued him. He didn't necessarily want to "figure her out"," but he definitely did want to get to know her a bit better.
"How ya' like it here so far ma'am?" He asked, placing one hand on his hip as he observed her. "Tha' jelicles a bit to touchy-feely fer ya', or do ya' like their optimism? Eitha' way, ah' am sure it is different, yea?"
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Post by Deleted on Nov 29, 2012 20:34:01 GMT -5
Again that accent distracted her. Inwardly she liked it the more she heard it. She felt her narrow eyes look down slightly. "Different is an understatement. They are a little over the top... It makes me feel uncomfortable. Is that normal here? How long have you been here?" She asked
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Post by cayran on Dec 13, 2012 22:35:11 GMT -5
(I am so sorry ,I forgot to reply!)
"Well," Amaury mused, clicking his tongue as he thought, "Ah' guess so. Not all of em' are like dat' though ma'am. If ya' ain't use to friendly though, ah' can see how it'd be a bit...much." He said, running a hand through his shaggy head fur. Amaury brought the bottle to his lips and he took a quick swing, smacking his lips as the burning liquid ran down his throat.
"Hmmm?" He slurred, looking back at her, one eyebrow cocked, "Oh! Um..." Amaury paused, raising his fingers as he counted to himself. "About 4 months. It's different, definitely. Tha' town dat' is. Odd place, and dear Gawd is it cold! Ah ain't use to it." The somali tom chuckled and smiled, motioning to the puffs of smoke that came from his mouth as he talked.
"Where ah' am from, it don't get nea'ly as cold as dis."
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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2012 23:02:45 GMT -5
(Thats alright. )
The white and scarlet princess was not sure why she was finding it easier to talk to him more and more. Maybe she identified with him being uncomfortable with the touchy feely jellicles. Perhaps, it was his rugged appearance and the fact he didn't look perfectly groomed like that annoyance, Rum Tum Tugger. Vipurr found herself getting sucked into wanting to know more. She cautiously walked towards him and sat rather rigidly against a wooden crate. Still not entirely relaxed. She didn't know if she should cross her arms or let them hang. She ended up crossing them, realizing that in his position and lack of experience, she could kill him if he tried anything. She relaxed slightly at the thought. "Where are you from?" She asked. She would like some place warmer. This cold rainy weather was awful.
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Post by cayran on Dec 15, 2012 0:04:27 GMT -5
Amaury watched her in slight amusement as she fidgeted. He could tell she was still uncomfortable around him, but hey, he didn't blame her. Amaury knew that he could be a bit to "much" at first meeting, so he didn't let it bother him.
"America," he replied, popping his knuckles out of habit. "Well, tha' United States ta' be precise ah' suppose. Ah' was bo'n in Louisiana. Eva' heard of dat place? Ah' lived there fo' a long while befo' my daddy took my family and ah' up to live with our kin in North Carolina. Mah' cousin is here in England at tha' moment to." He added, eyebrows raising. Amaury would have went in to describe Cayran, but he decided against it. If Vipurr was new to the junkyard, then it was highly unlikely they would have already met.
"You bo'n and raised here cher?" He asked, motioning to her with his drink.
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