The mountain of a Were copied the pose of his counterpart, head onto folded arms, on the bar, across from him. A twinkle, a glimmer of excitement. "Does it involve eating something?" He was thinking with his stomach. It had quickly been decided to bring the new guy forward and Amare was already onto the next thing. Quinn may end up pantsless and embarrassed, as games often went, but who can say no to a face like that?!

Artem rolled his neck, exhaling a smooth sigh, blinking as his eyes fixed on the flames. When he rounded the couch, he checked it for occupancy. One could never be too sure. He stretched up, arms to the ceiling with a soft grunt before he sat upon the couch - fishing from his pocket his phone.

"Is this a game where we hide in the closet and make out? Because I feel that would be mildly strange" A swat at Amare who was not telling him about the game and it was making him insane having to wait on what it was.

"It certainly can." His smile broadened and then he propped himself up on his elbows, testing the distance between them. It wasn't a nuzzle, but it was damn sure close, "I had this thought the other day," soft beginnings. That was the way to being heard. A gentle voice, a nearness so that when he spoke his words still had the scent of him on it, "I was-- what, mildly strange? You mean amazing." He snorted and then drew up one finger at Quinn to refocus the discussion, "I was thinking that we should go play hide and go seek with Saila. She hides some shots around and... if we find her, we win. If we find where we think she is... we drink. And then make out in a closet. Weirdly."

Hide and go seek with the purple squirrel! How was that not a win?

"This might be the best game I have EVER heard of. First place to look-- behind the bar in the alley, she hides clothes back there for me sometimes so I don't have to come in here naked. Maybe she hid shots there too!?" Eyes went to the back door and before Amare could say anything OUT was Quinn searching in the back alley for shots.

"But we haven't even started the ga--" but Quinn was gone and he shrugged, tipping back his pink drink of whatever it was that had been made for him. He cleared his throat, lifting the shaker to refill it. So it was one of those kinda nights.

He set the phone on his thigh as he unbuttoned his coat. Wiggling out of his, he dragged it out from behind his back and folded it over the back of the couch. His attention returned to the flames for a bit, lips pursing and eyes narrowing a tick.

"There's nothing there cause... Saila.... whatever." He stood up, circling away from his barstool with his drink in hand. His suit jacket was left behind. He then invited himself to the hearth where Artem was, dropping into one of the singular chairs that faced the hearth. He sipped his pink cocktail, adding, "It's not bad. There's more if you want it." The drink shaker sat atop the bar, looking important."Who are you?" Did the question feel familiar? It should have.

Another blink, mouth relaxing. Eyebrows raise for the comment, not sure of what he meant. He was about to respond with a question when he had a question to answer. His mouth resolved into a crooked grin. "... Artem Rozanov. You are Amare." He learned.

"There was the arch of one of his eyebrows. Artem. He settled in his chair and was clearly trying to determine what had been given to him, and by whom. Another swallow of his Quinn-prepped pink drink, "I'm at a disadvantage, you see. There is an inequality of knowledge between us, which must be fixed."

"Disadvantage?" He would assume nothing, and leaned forward such that his elbows rested on his thighs, hands coming together.

"Mmmm. I have questions for you." Intermittent sips of his drink taken during the conversation. His blond hair, slicked back, had some threads coming loose to touch his brow and temple.

He rubbed his hands together, an eyebrow raising with a cheeky grin. "Who are you to ask questions of me?"

"We already covered that. Amare. I'm Amare." A small shrug of his shoulders, unphased by the questioning of his right to ask. He cleared his throat, "If you were able to do anything you wanted without consequence... what would it be?" Oh, don't be lame. Don't be boring. Amare held his glass. the first question of Artem had him wondering if there would even be an answer. Then again, there were grins, the playful little show of teeth that was amusement or endearment. Only when those smiles hit someone's eyes did it mean anything else.

His hands paused and his eyebrows relaxed. The one question raised several of his own. Why? being the top of the charts. "... I would be bolder." It was a generic answer, but it was an answer. "Take much bigger risks."

"You're speaking generally-- I want specifics. Be bolder now, and be bolder... how?" He finished his drink and set it down, his weight leaned forward to where his elbows were on his knees. His eyes were a challenge to Artem. Amare hoped for a real answer, not something that politely explained the circumstances and why the blah blah blah... No, he just wanted to know. What he wanted was marrow, not a duvet.

His jaw worked. He was not blinking. He saw the challenge via the filter of instinct. He had seen this many times before. In the moment, he made the decision to accept. Without glancing here or there, he remained as he was. Leaned forward, hands together, elbows to thighs. "To stop lingering here by the hearth. To step into the open and reach out to take what I want." His palm opened towards Amare, and closed into a fist. "To be a man who can possess and retain." His fist relaxed. "Rather than just possess." He raised his chin, still eyes fixed on Amare. "But that is only one aspect. One per question. Now you answer. Same."

"You answered me still in terms that are vague." He pointed at Artem and rose to take his glass to the bar and refill it from the shaker Quinn left him with. His eyes squinted at the back alley door. Surely his alpha would be back once he realized.... maybe. A wolf could get distracted with rats, no doubt. He filled his drink and returned, this time sitting uncomfortably beside Artem. The man might have known by now that he enjoyed seeing what someone would do when he pressed the envelope, "I'm doing it. Right now. I'm curious, so I'm following through," he leaned back, sipping from his pink martini with so much class, "What are you trying to possess and retain? Don't be so vague. It's annoying."

"What is annoying is that I am a filler until your companion returns." He leaned back, thick arm extending along the back of the couch. His head tilting some, still watching Amare. "A curiosity for your vanity." His eyes narrowed. "Use your imagination, Amare. I will not fight for your attention. Not so soon." Beat. "Perhaps such a conversation is best reserved when I can possess and retain your undivided attention." He emphasized both words that he had been using: possess and retain.

The answer was... well, it was perfect. His jaw went slack and then he laughed. It was a sharp laugh, the sort weighed with an acidic interest. Amare was beside himself with amusement and so he reached, tugging out his cellphone, "You think you can handle my undivided attention? I'm not known for being gentle. Okay. Undivided attention. Let's schedule." Now he was there, willing to call Artem's bluff as he held his phone. Waiting for a number. Waiting to assign a Day of Artem.

He announced his number for Amare to record. "Let us hope that by then your attention is still something I want to possess. Consequences are for everyone, not just Artem. But if not, then we can still meet. For my vain amusement." His turn to smile, teeth perfect, though he did not laugh.

"Amusement is a two way street. What could I possibly do to secure your attention?" He was busy, typing in the digits. He repeated them to himself as his fingers slid over the glass face of his phone. When he thought he had it secure he looked at him, "I'm the child of consequences, I only expire with inaction." It sounded like a poem, but it wasn't. Not even close. It was a half response to a half saying, but he still smiled. Sitting on the couch with him, he wasn't afraid to lean into Artem. It was at that moment that he not-so-secretly, sniffed at him. *What* was he dealing with?

"It is something we will learn together." He noted the sniff, and craned his neck closer to Amare, closing the distance between them even more. The sniff was responded to in kind, eyes half-lid. "Let us agree to leave all assumptions behind." His voice was deep in how quiet he was speaking, his vocal rhythm steady and ostinato. "Thank you, Amare."

In from the back door, Quinn ran in holding a bottle of liquor and looking as if he'd been chased. "I didn't find Saila's shots, but I found a homeless man with vodka!" Running full speed to Amare who he hadn't realized hadn't been looking for shots. A furrow of brow and a look between the new man and Amare. Tossing the bottle at his blonde counterpart and running towards the bar to find his scotch once more.

Artem's neck had been offered up to his teeth. It was close, soft, pungent with the scent of his skin. The quiet rhythm of his voice was echoed by his body, the gentle curve of his throat. He didn't know how to react to the vulnerability, especially since he wanted to devour it with no dates of anticipation in some hypothetical future. His jaw flexed and relaxed. Was it a kiss? He nuzzled Artem's neck and then, well, Quinn was back in. His attention snapped and he felt like cold water had been poured on him. Oh crap. He flinched and then caught the bottle, his laughter like breaking glass, "Homeless men with vodka taste the absolute best." He rose to his feet, unscrewing the bottle of vodka, "Saila isn't aware of the game yet... so she can't hide our shots. They should have gummie bears in them, don't you think?"

He made no movement or sound. He watched Quinn arrive and Amare respond. Only when the seat had been vacated did he relax back. He checked his phone to see if Amare had sent a message or called, thus giving Artem a way to store his phone number. His eyes then returned to the fire. His smile absent and hungry.

Val?s Bare feet led down the stairs and a delicately boned hand trailed along the banister as he made his way from his room. He wore a dark blue and white aloha shirt open to expose the white undershirt below. His trousers were khaki colored and rolled loosely up to show off boney ankles. Dark hair was pulled back behind his head and dark almond eyes that held a whole lot of lifetimes behind them. His mouth was a slash against the pale brown skin that hugged the narrow but high cheekbones that told there were no familiar faces amongst the crowd, but that didn't stop Val from greeting those he passed by with a friendly but quiet, "Aloha," and a small smile. He continued this until he was finally behind the bar. He paused in his steps at the coffee pots. A breathed chuckle, barely discernible, and he continued to the cooler to find a bottle of beer.

"Of course they should!" Quinn had lost his button down somewhere in the Chase the Homeless Game that was supposed to be the Hide and Get Smashed Game. He felt himself up, pockets and such, wondering where he'd left his keys, wallet, cell phone, everything. Wallet found in his back pocket and he grabbed a couple bills and began folding them. Sure to stay out of (Val)'s way while they were both behind the bar. "Is this the new guy?" Not looking at the man with Amare, instead, folding the bills into a sturdy triangle and flicking them one after another at the angry till viper. "He doesn't smell like one of us, but he was quick to give you his throat." Waggling brows, before he reached up to grab his abandoned scotch. A kiss of drink splashed over his lips before he smiled and finally looked to the other man. Pity, offer throat to a killer, and wind up dead. Scurry scurry of eyes over him.

"Sorry," Val laughed softly as he moved around the guy (Quinn) to get to the patron side of the bar. He found a barstool not too far away from the rest of the crowd and climbed up. Or maybe it was slid onto the stool. Yes, it was more of a slide. Rocking from left, to right, to left, he flipped his hair back from his shoulder in a gesture that was purely habit. His beer was opened with a "psst" sound and he took the first drink as the cap was set onto the bar.

His body twisted to look at Artem and then back to Quinn, "No, he's not... as far as I can tell... he's... something? else?" The entire statement was awkward, ending with his shrug. He upended the bottle of vodka and then half gagged, "It tastes like homeless and cigarettes." There was another shrug of his shoulders to what Quinn said, but he wasn't wrong. There were, undeniably, bodies in his wake. His hands had the mark of blood and maybe Artem knew it, maybe not. Quinn was going to level that playing field for him instantly, which was weird. He had the impulse to dress it up, to play along like you know, maybe that was possible. What there was was between him and Artem was a text message saying 'Friday. My bar.' Amare took a seat at the bar near Quinn, grinning at the lost shirt, "Aren't you adorable."

"Next time I'll rob a Lord or something and you can sip brandy with your pinky out." The gypsy winked and leaned a bit closer to Amare with a whisper. "I am indeed." Bonk of nose with the tip of his index finger. Amare was going to either bite him, or play along. Quinn assumed the former, but hoped for the latter. "Better watch out for hose something elses. They are nearly always boring, or trouble." Musing a moment before another sip of scotch filled the space between them with a glass and the stale smell of harsh liquor.

With a spine as loose as his, Val easily twisted, shrank and slid off of the barstool to get out from under the branch that had fallen onto his shoulders. He waved a finger and laughed. He snatched one of the bottles off of the bartop and then jumped, flat footed onto the bar.

"Of course," he might have followed Val, being that he snapped and moved with the temptation of a piece of string being dangled. It wasn't like with Artem, here he just had the urge to.. be a cat and claw and chew. Quinn told him to heel and Amare was left to give a mild, resigned shrug and-- surprisingly, do just that. He slipped into place beside Quinn, all heeled and behaved with his homeless vodka. Amare's eyes went up to where Val was on the bar, but he was mentally chanting to himself that brah was boring and probably tasted like seaweed.

Brah was borrrinngggg. Not tasty at all. So boring. Not chewy at all. He probably tasted like (gasp) fake pineapple. Not even the real thing. Mahaloyoyoyy.... whatever, he likely was making words up.

Seeing that he was not being chased, Val walked to where his unopened beer bottle stood. He then crouched down and slid back onto his barstool. "Brah," he extended his hand for a shake. "Val."

Ohhhhh a hand. Dangling little flesh pieces in his direction. Really? Amare smiled tightly, clapping his hand into Val's and forcing out the introduction, "Amare and this... is...." a flowing motion of his hand to the other two, "Quinn and Saila." Totally Rad, yo.

"Couple?" she scoffed. "There's three of us." Obviously? Right. Nevermind that Saila was dating somebody who outweighed Quinn and Amare put together, nevermind that Quinn was her dad and Amare her kinda-sorta-brother. Nevermind logic and all that. She heard Quinn use his name, heard the animal growl that was subvocalized in two syllables. Probably for the best, though she was impressed with the way the little guy moved. "OOoh. Nice moves, Brah-Val." This is what happens when you don't specify Saila thinks it's all one word.

"I swear to any god you want me to that he tastes like pineapple," he said to Quinn with what was a straight face. This was a person to eat. Two verse one, and he would be all... no brah, not this way but my time comes when it comes, akuna matata. Yes. That was exactly as he would sound.

Some people just... needed to be eaten...with what he assumed would be with a fruit garnish.

The hand was shaken but only briefly. He put his hand to his chest and bowed his head respectfully to Saila. "My apologies, please." Val then looked back up and took another swig of beer. He really didn't care if she called him Brah. He really didn't care about much of anything. His brows went up again when Amare said he tasted like pineapple. Well, he hadn't had any pineapple or juice since he'd left the island over a month ago, so he doubted it. Would have to see later. It was another shrug and crooked grin as he laughed.

Watching the two he smiles and wonders if Saila understand that some couples are more than two. Maybe the guy thought they were some cool hipster swinging couple. A shake of his head at Amare and he looked at the smaller male with a raised brow. "Pleasure to meet you Val. Don't mind Amare, he's under the impression that you might taste fruity, I think it may have racial implications, but you don't smell like fruit." A sniff of the air between them, and he caught more the smell of beer and sunshine. Maybe there was more, Quinn wasn't delving too deep into that. No need to fall face first into an island boy. He'd gotten himself in trouble with islanders a time or two in the past. Eyes to Saila and he laughed. "She's my kid, he's her brother, or uncle. It's complicated."

He nipped at the edge of Quinn's shoulder and then pointed with a jerk of his head, "It's like the dinner bell is ringing and everyone else is deaf. Jesus why are we-- yessss," he smiled in a that sort-of polite way while being introduced. He was the brother-sort-of, and the beta to Quinn.


"Wouldn't three people be a triple? Is it not called that?" She mused, possibly because she could read his mind and possibly just because she was still working it out in her head. Likely both. "Or is it a trinity...tricycle?" Okay, maybe she's just rolling through every word she can think of that starts with "tri".


There wasn't any other person that had Amare kneel so readily, or just outright listen. Usually the wolf was left to his own outrage, his own devices, and Saila played along so long as it wasn't the end of the world. Amare arched a brow, "I think the word you're looking for is orgy."

"It?s just an open relationship I think. I think it?s a complicated couple. Or..." Looks at Amare and his eyes went wide. "That is not what it is called! Thats when lots of people are having sex, I don't think they have to be in a relationship."

"Trio, sisstah?" he shook his head and that dark hair moved along his back. Now he knew their family tree. Very interesting indeed. Amare uttered a word that had him crossing his legs at the knees and biting his lips.

"Oh hey, that's a funny story," she said even though no one had told a story. Sorry about that, Quinn. She frowned. "I still like tricycle."

"Then what's our relationship? You kinda hate me, kinda don't hate me, sometimes kiss me and then really do NOT kiss me?" A pointed look at Quinn before Val spoke and reacted. A two hand gesture in his direction, "Must. Eat. Now. He's not even fleeing. What is wrong with you people!? Seriously he's just like... right there.... and I am convinced he tastes like pineapple. And beer. And we're not going to do anything about it? Finneee... screw it, I give up. Where's my cigarettes?" he grabbed his suit jacket to hunt down the pack.

If you couldn't tell, Quinn went bright red, under the scruff and stubble. No one was elaborating on the story so he was good. "Amare, not all people who aren't afraid of us are for eating." Said through his teeth softly so that he didn't look terrifying. "Some of them are for? other things!" Looking to Saila for some back up on this one.

"...Like... playing checkers?" It was the first thing she could think of. "Or... or... singing songs with. Or kissing! But only if you ask and he says yes." Consent matters! She seemed really proud of herself for adding that caveat.

Either Val was stupid or he was confident in his abilities. As he sipped his beer he listened to the life lessons of the family. He was often underestimated and didn't disabuse anyone of that mistake.

He was lighting up a cigarette when he noticed the blushing. There was a curious pause then and Amare cleared his throat, the hand holding the cigarette steadied on the bar as he sat on a stool, "Huh. You do want to kiss me..." Even though Quinn had hated him somewhat because of Dirk, because of how the cards had fallen and because he had always been a pain in the ass.

"Ohhh it's one of those," Amare snapped his fingers and then pointed, "A grudge ****. Where your animosity causes you to want to have sex. Is that it?" He wagged his eyebrows at Quinn, his fingernails making a hollow drum along the body of his Homeless Vodka. He would elbow. That was what Amare did.

Quinn was blushing about the orgy story and was then looking with wide eyes at Amare. "Are you asking to sleep with me?" He was so confused and then looking between Val and Amare. Wondering if the human, wait was he human? Quinn hadn't asked. Didn?t matter. Eyes back to Saila. "What is he going on about? Why does he think I want to hate **** him?"

"Because ya do, brah," he answered for her with a chuckle. It was evident to him, anyway, that Quinn and Amare had pent up something. What that something was, he had no idea, but he was just going with the flow.

"Something about that other guy." She gave Quinn an almost imperceptible nod, as if answering a question he hadn't asked. "Other than that, I don't know. Are you two going to get naked?" Saila made a show of slapping her hands over her eyes, not that it would help her in the slightest if they actually did. "Wait. I thought you were kissing cute guy. If he says yes I mean." She gestured at Brah-Val with... her elbow?

"Because I'm amazing," the not-whisper to Quinn. Amare had come to know better than to push Quinn's good nature too far and an insistence or anything else might have just been that. Then Val answered and he grinned with a thumbs up. The pent-up something was... well, that Quinn had a psychopath beta under his arm he had to cope with. Maybe it was sexual tension. Or homicidal. Or.... you know. "Hang on, I gotta take something to Simone," The bottle of Vodka was set down and then he moved away, vaulting over the bar. A sloppily-to-walk stumble into the kitchen.

Experiment ongoing. Data required.

"He's bringing something to...The bar?" Eyes to Saila and then to Amare again. "Well, if he's with the bar, he's not eating our little friend here. But apparently I am hankering for some Amare. Too bad I can't bring him anywhere near my house. Can you *imagine* Mark finding him?" There was a smirk and he grabbed his scotch and drank deeply with a smile. "He would burst a vessel and probably kill me." Nodding amused at the thought of it.

Hey, if Quinn could overlook the two dead people and Mannique at the dinner table, his place was ideal for hosting a little get together. Very romantic. You could hardly smell the decomposition.

"...Well, Mark would probably like me a whole lot better if he also knew Amare." She nodded, drinking more of Quinn's scotch. "Simone is very young and needs lots of things to help her grow," she said it so matter of factly.

Quinn most likely could NOT overlook those things."Like what? Stools? And glasses and such?"

"Cheers," he held his bottle up, grateful for the not eating bit. The rest of their conversation was just water under the bridge, information stored for later consumption.

"Mostly Harry Potter and Earl Grey Tea," of which he was robbing the current bar almost entirely of. Amare had the massive container of it in hand, all the individual packets in the major one just waiting for release. He said that as he stepped out of the kitchen and then through the bar break.

Now Mist was closer, he reached over, silent, to lightly touch at Saila's hair. Just a touch. He chuckled to his company and spoke, "Yes. I used to stay here, too."

"Can't we buy these things?" Of course we can't because where is the fun in that, hmm? It was about then that he realized he was being observed. Eyes on them and his head turned back to the direction of the youngster. "Tell me about yourself Brah." All eyes on Val now.

"What.. the fuck... is that...." he was staring at Mist touching Saila's hair as he explained why items needed to be taken, "It has to come from the mothership... Quinn... what...." a motion to the hair-toucher.

A hand shot out to grab the wrist of the man who's fingers had brushed against Saila's hair. He wasn't being rough, but the words seemed that way. "We are okay with a Mist touching?" Snapped in his direction.

"Of that, brah," he leaned back against the bar and let his gaze travel up Quinn's body slowly. "There is no doubt." He chuckled then and took another sip of beer. It was his third and he was nearly finished with it. "You'd like to see dat, yeah? Him takin' a big bite outta my Hawaiian pizza ass."

"There wouldn't be *a* bite. So no, that isn't something I'd be fond of watching. No." There was no point in telling the man that it would remove another sliver of humanity from the man he cared most about. They were closer than brothers. Nearly equals. He trusted Amare much more than Amare would or could ever know. Would go right to his head you know. Quicksilver orbs landed on the beer and he smirked. "You trying to get sloshed? Can I get you another?"

The homicidal, the unbalanced, was kept in a gentle vault between Quinn and Saila. His smile was broad, and the two of them moved in step with one another easily. There was something to be said about seeing the unhinged go all the way. Whatever he was, it was clear that Saila and Quinn were either guardians of him or guardians of everyone not-him. Amare wouldn't have asked or wanted to be trusted, it was better that Quinn held the "higher ground" between them.

Saila was still dancing with Amare, heedless (or at least seemingly so) of their surroundings. "Yeah, I like Amare better too," she said softly. "You're good at this." There was no question or surprise in the tenor of her voice.

"I had to be." He reminded her with a diminished smile, dipping her appropriately before the next spin, "It used to be that dancing told you everything you needed to know about someone. If they were meak, or bold, if they would make eye contact or just shrink against the walls. Now there's... I dunno. Getting drinks at a bar and pretending not to notice everyone."

"Brah would have to catch me," he winked playfully and then leaned back from that conspiratorial whisper. He waved off the offer with a lazy brush of his hands. "Three's my limit," he admitted. No need to go beyond a buzz. "Trying to get me drunk?" he teased playfully.

Trying to get you to want to leave this place. "Nah, just a friendly guy." Quinn wondered only for a moment, if he was on the wrong team on this one. The poor kid wouldn't stand a chance, but how long really could you deny the beast that he's a beast. A shake of his head. His laugh was one of a much younger man. "You want me to call you a cab man?"

Wait, Amare could get the whip cream and a cherry to properly decorate that Brah. He could run fast so, yeah, totally had this. Guys totally outran werewolves all the time in all the movies.

"Hm, good point." All three of her dance partners were good at it because they had to be, for wildly different reasons. Saila was good at it because they were, because she was fearless, because she liked it. Amare dipped her and she let him, perfectly at ease in his arms and utterly unconcerned for even a second that the wolf would drop her, even though ....anyone who knew Amare might have easily assumed that he would. She moved through the twirl and spun right up against him again. "So what does it say about me, then?" Slipping one hand off the blond's shoulder, she flagged a wave at Mist. "Night, Nurse Practitioner!" See, she'd been paying attention.

Val pointed to the ceiling and squinted at the stairs. "I live up there," he admitted. No, he didn't want to leave but the question made him nod his head all the same. He stood up, all to his 5' 2" height and gathered the empty bottles on the bar. Not turning his back, he made his way behind the bar to dispose of the bottles.

Dude was fun sized. How was that not happening? Jesus H Christ.

Mist chuckled softly, an easy gesture of arm uncoiling to a flick of fingers towards Saila. A flittering of little moth-like lights wound their way around her, popping lightly once they had spun their way upwards. "Good evening, Actor and Dancer."

"That you're modern. This is really outdated dancing. I'm showing my aristocratic upbringing and... whatever the hell other adjectives someone feels like applying." But there was his slow grin from her, his fingers spreading at her lower back when she peeled away to wave at Mist. His eyes followed the gesture and he upnodded in an effort to be polite (gasp). His eyes went back to Saila. "I think... I'm itching to go out." He meant hunting.

The grin that spilled over her features then could have lit up the entire room. "I think... that is an excellent idea."

"Oooooohhhhh." A sage like nod and then eyes to Amare, who was touching Saila so he was getting mixed messages and trying to figure out if he could wiggle his way into Amare's mind through hers. Hunt. He heard hunt. Perked up like a pup who just heard walk. He needed to go out too. Eyes went to Saila and wide. Hunt?!

Jeeze. You would think she was the human who was responsible for taking these big dogs out for a walk. Oh, wait.

Oh hey. There were pretty lights. That made her grin even wider. "That's so cool," the girl breathed. "Yeah, we should -all- go out."

"I am full of incredible ideas," his voice pressed her, as if to remind. There was the tug of Quinn, undeniable, causing his blue eyes to move across the room to him and smile. Yes. His nod followed and he stepped back towards the door of the inn. "Well..." a smile absolutely wolfish followed, "Let's go."

Saila the dog walker.

Val took his leave by quietly walking back around the bar and up the stairs to disappear into his bedroom. He appeared a few minutes later wearing track shoes and a thick hoodie over the clothes he'd been wearing earlier. "Aloha," he called out to them as he went for the door and outside. Using the railing on the porch, he began to stretch. Time to burn off that alcohol.

"Incredible, yes. Not all of them are awesome. Speaking of, I need to see this drawing you got..." You know. Mostly she wanted to know where he'd put it. She was headed towards the door as she spoke, but still paused to flap a wave at the Hawaiian pizza. "Night, BrahVal from OahuHawaii. Nice to meet you! "

"Have an amazing night, my little Hawiian!" Called over to the kid. A card tucked into his palm in passing. "Try to not get eaten." He hoped the kid didn't have to use that card, but just incase. Quinn was bouncing around Saila. "Where to guys?" He was stripping out of his clothes already. Poor lookers on.

Turns out the getting naked game was happening afterall. Val who was stretching on the porch was probably about to get an eyefull of naked man-wolves as Saila dutifully took the stripped-off clothes and stuffed them into her bag for safekeeping.

He accepts that card and waves a friendly goodbye to Saila before stepping onto the porch. He could see the nakedness starting from the window and he did not take his eyes away for a single moment.

Hopefully the kid didn't have a leaning interest in Amare, who was thoroughly convinced his name meant appetizer, brah. Amare snapped his fingers, "Twilight island. Some things to hunt and... of course, you must see Simone. She's not complete but I don't think you will judge her." He was leaving behind his suit top until Saila gathered it. Pffttt.

Well, yeah. All things went into the bag of holding. Suit tops, liquor bottles, live animals, bits of skin that amare had carved off his own finger.... she was kind of a hoarder.

Quinn stripped, so Amare followed with a grin as they went further down the porch. Tattoo not withstanding, there were the scar marks of... something, on the bend of his arms and in little pieces of his back. Unhinged little stories and yet, he was still teeth, claws, promises and prowling. He knew just the place.

Fun sized Hawaiian pizza was there to witness their naked stroll onto the porch. He had to take a lean because... wow.

Quinn was nude and nodding to Amare. He'd heard the destination and smirked. Quinn had his own disgusting scars, but he had earned each one. A moment later there was a bounding run and a white wolf where a man had stood. And then, he was gone into the tree line.

Well yeah. It was a lot to take in if you were into...exceedingly gorgeous, utterly ripped naked men who... rather suddenly became wolves in a teeth-rattling crunch of snapping bones. Saila waited until Amare had shifted and then, cinching her bag down tight against her body, she took off after them. Saila was fast. Unnaturally fast. She neither stripped nor changed forms, a streak of long black shadows and bright purple hair as she disappeared into the trees with them.

Seeing the direction that the wolves took, Val decided that discretion was the better part of valor and wandered back into the commons. There were bottles and things strewn about that he set to making right again.