Wendy Berber: *She's standing at the railing, down at the waters edge. She stares quietly at the water, bangs over her face as the wind nips her cheeks into a splotchy red. She's all but engulfed in her ugly old sweater*

Joe Vellim: *Fekkin Frankie.. too twitchy for a bookie's job.. dumbass shuts down the fight for tonight- so a bullish irishman finds himself at the waters edge of battery instead. A small rock is batted a short distance in front of him as he walks along, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.*

Wendy Berber: *a sniffle as the wind ruffles her hair. She rubs at her nose with the back of her hand. her eyebrows pinch together and she swallows. it was all just a big joke... a little noise as a rock comes out of nowhere and hits her already sore ankle. a small squeak as she hangs her head further, then looks for who threw it*

Joe Vellim: Eh, shit... dat hit yew? *He short- man swaggers out from under a streetlight, watchcap pulled down low over his ears- his eyes widen slightly as he catches sight of her.* Hey Peaches! Mah rock dint hitchew, didit?

Wendy Berber: *she takes her spectacles off once she sees who it is, standing barefoot in the cold dead grass. Cleaning her glasses she says in a small precise voice* Its ok. *a jog up and down of spindly shoulders*

Joe Vellim: Well, lemme makeit upta ya. Cold as shit out heah.. *He reaches into his jacket as he stops at the rail with the little girl. The flask is battered but apparently serviceable- he unscrews the cap and offers it to her.* Heah- havea nip. it'll keep da' cold outta ya nose. *He smiles broadly at her, but his eyes linger a bit.. worried, before he looks out to the water as well.*

Wendy Berber: *she swallows a bit of nothing and puts her spectacles back on, eyes blinking several times before looking to the flask and taking it gingerly* um.. thank you sir.. *she takes a little sip, coughing and bringing her hands to her mouth as it burns, eyes watering*

Ewan O'Mailly: *Ewan walks through the park lightly playing his gutiar. But the sound coming has a particualur twange no matter what sound, a rage filled twange.*

Joe Vellim: Yeah- deah ya go... *He smiles, winking.* Don' warry- it'll stop kickin' heah inna minnit- lemme show ya how its done.. *Jovial.. perhaps trying to elicit a little cheer from the girl before he takes the flask back and takes a plug himself.* See? Its makin' a funny face what makes it quit burnin'. *He continues to watch her and the water, mostly the former, before speaking again.* Sa.. howya been? Adjustin' ok?

Wendy Berber: *still coughing, it burns.. she's never tasted hard liquor before, a wipe at her nose with her overlarge sleeve. she blinks and rubs one bare foot against the other.* um. thank you. .. *she sniffs again, head dipping furtherm hair falling forward over hr face*.. I'm ok.

Ewan O'Mailly: *Ewan is Caucasian with Brown eyes, and looks to be in his mid-teens. He is normally clad in a black bomber jacket with metal band patches all over the back, a metal band t-shirt, black jenko pants, and combat boots with polished chrome buckles that go to the top of the boots. But his state of hair is even more over the top as it is spiked up black with deep red tips. Ewan has a double layer fingerless gloves as he plays.*

William Halloran: The man walks along with heavy footsteps into Battery Park. V was okay...she was off on her own somewhere, and didn't need him tonight. He needed some time to his own thoughts. His hands are in the pockets of his leather jacket, ruined face downward turned, a cigarette sticking out of his mouth as he walked.

Big and scary. Those are the two best words to describe the man standing there. Standing a touch over seven feet tall, and easily weighing over 400 pounds, the man pretty much defines the saying “I wouldn’t want to meet HIM in a dark alley!” His hair, a dark brown, is just a little too long to be considered short, and is worn combed straight back, revealing his face...and that’s not a good thing. The right side of his face is distorted and misshapen, looking somewhat caved in at the cheekbone, as if from an old wound. The eye above is perpetually bloodshot, though the original green reflected in the other eye struggles to show through. He’s dressed in a T-Shirt advertising New York City Wrestling, a huge pair of blue jeans, and size 17 boots. His gaze is surprisingly gentle for someone as intimidating as he is, and the look he gives off indicates...loneliness, perhaps? ((Fame 2: Check Who's Who for Details))

Joe Vellim: *Broad, and very short- upon first glance the irishman looks a little like a pit bull. That sort of vaguely dangerous person one doesn't chose to mess with just offhand. Bulky, powerful muscle ripples across his frame and gives a resolute touch to each stride. The faded remains of what was once an athlete's grace hangs about him like an old coat- that ease of movement that hints at once being very aquainted with the limits to which the human body may be pressed- and perhaps excel. A worn face that hints at an age above 30- but bright blue eyes seem open and hint that the violence of form has faded into an edgy sort of gregarious wisdom. Not a very attractive man, but from time to time the smile hints at a face that once could dazzle cameras. Bald headed, broken nose, and a latticework of scars that hatch across the knuckles of bratwurst sized fingers.*

Wendy Berber: *Here we have a fine specimen of Bookwormus Maximus. The girl is average height, and fairly unremarkable in the looks department. A small round face, her black hair is unruly, flipping out above her jaw despite obvious attempts to keep it in check, ink blue eyes blinking from behind thick cat-eye glasses perched on a tiny nose. Meek, definitally, self consciousness clear in every movement of the thin teenager... from the scuff of a small knobby foot, to the way she droops narrow shoulders, all but dissappearring in the ratty knit sweater intent on swallowing her upper body. A pleated skirt better suited to an old woman hangs about her knees, onlookers treated to the sight of her pale chicken legs. *

Joe Vellim: ((fame 1))

Joe Vellim: *He glances in the direction of the guitar sound for a moment.. then back at Wendy.. seems to fit the mood..* Yeh.. okay, huh? Think mebbe I been 'ok' like dat every now an' den..

Wendy Berber: d10: per alert: 7,9,9,5,9,

Joe Vellim: *A double-take.. sometimes, the short man just can't help it. He jabs a finger toward William, blaring:* JEEZUS! Ah thought yew was a ~group~ o' people!

Ewan O'Mailly: *Ewan continues to walk down the path trying his best to cannel his rage through his music. He looks around ahead of him as he walks.

Ewan O'Mailly: d10: per+alert: 9,3,2,6,

Wendy Berber: *She can feel Ewan approaching before she identifies the sound as a guitar. spine crawling as he approaches, head lilting to the side just slightly, as her eyes slowly slip shut. she manages a small nod to joe, murmering*.. i'm sorry... *she jumps, eyes open when he yells, turning and seeing Will*

William Halloran: He looks up at Ewan and his guitar a moment, before Joe's excalamation causes his head to shoot in the duo's direction, tense at the initial blaring syllable. He relaxes when he realizes what the little guy's saying, and nods a bit. "'at's the usual consensus." Recogniztion finds the man's eyes at Joe...and at Wendy. He offers the woman a little smile, and Joe a nod. "Heya."

Wendy Berber: hello sir. *she says quietly, head still tilted, growing more tense the closer Ewan gets, eyes away from him. You'd think he was a serial killer or something, her hands curling into the ugly mass of her sweater*

Joe Vellim: 'sup, guy? *He returns William's greeting. Unease travels a short distance through his form.. a feeling at the back of his neck.. that guy widda guitar.. ee's a bit pissed off.. His gaze swims back to Wendy smoothly.* Sa' dat's why ya come heah, huh? Meet celebrities? *He winks, giving her the tiniest of nudges.* Mistah Halloran, dis heah's mah friend Wendy. Wendy, Mistah Halloran. *One meaty paw sweeps between them.*

Ewan O'Mailly: *Ewan notices the group, and looks at William for a long moment. He slowly fineshes his song as he comes up to them. He keeps a distance and gives Wendy a light smile and nod.* Hi Wendy. *Ewan looks to the other two men giving them each a nod.*

Joe Vellim: d10: : 5,4,5,7,5,

Wendy Berber: *a little wave of her fingers at will.. her eyes carefully on the ground. A swallow, her face crumpling a moment before she adresses Ewan*.. um. Hello Sir.

William Halloran: "We've met," he says to Joe with a nod. "Heya, Wendy. Nice t'get a name." A look over the shoulder at Ewan, tensing a little bit. Wendy's tenseness causes him to rotate to face Ewan, coming between the scared girl and the guitar player. Nervous as the guy made him, Wendy seemed even moreso.

Wendy Berber: *the white of her scrawny chicken neck shows in the moonlight, hair dangling over her features as her lenses become glowing reflective circles, obscuring her eyes with light*

Joe Vellim: *Joe nods back to Ewan, then takes another pull from his flask. He looks between Ewan and Wendy, but for wont of something more constructive to do, merely cants an eyebrow at William and offers him the flask.* Jes' gahtta say.. love dat "fuck-you-ta-death" move ya do..

Joe Vellim: *Meanwhile, one boot scrapes against the ground... nudging something up against Wendy's foot.*

Wendy Berber: *...what? .. thats enough to get her looking towards joe, then william, head still back, eyes watery.. she flicks her eyes down as joe pushes something against her.*

Ewan O'Mailly: *He looks to the hulking body of the man as he gets in between him and Wendy. Ewan gives a frown making him look all of his fourteen years old.* Wendy I ask you to call me Ewan remember? *He gives a sigh.* Its cool, see you around. *The kid looks and sounds ok, but somehow he bleeds off this homosital murder vibe. He starts walking down the path again.*

William Halloran: "Thanks." He nods to Joe and takes the flask from him with an appreciative smile, taking a shot from it. He looks back at Ewan, eyes narrowed at the vibe. One normal and one bloodshot eye track the man as he starts walking away. He's had damn near enough of homicidal people lately.

Joe Vellim: Oh yeah- dis heah's William Halloran, yeah? Yew evah watch rasslin'? *Spoken as though her answer would, of course, be yes.*

Wendy Berber: Yes Ewan.. I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry.. I'm sorry i forgot.. *she blusters, then looks down at her feet. can't even remember a simple request. what good are you exactly mare? she swallows and cringes, before bending down suddenly to put on her shoes*

Wendy Berber: sorry.. *its softer, a sniff as she buckles her shoes, head down. caving in on herself entirely.. she may well jus crumbple like a pile of bones.. she's basically one already..a shake of her head at the question form joe*.. no. I'm sorry sir. ..um. mr. Halloran.

Wendy Berber: ((i liek two tpye correctdly!!..man. i suck tonight~!))

Ewan O'Mailly: *He shakes his head.* Dont be sorry Wendy. *He starts playing his lightly as the darkness of the park engulf him.*

Joe Vellim: *Concern slips across Joe's broad face as he looks at Wendy.. but he murmurs.* Dude kinna reminds me uh Slash.. yannow? Guns an' Roses? He was pissed off tew...

Joe Vellim: mebbe s'jussa thing wit guitarists, yannow? Mebbe jes... alla dem all kindsa pissed off..

William Halloran: He looks back at Wendy, shrugging. "S'awright. Ain't for everybody. I ain't a fighter...jus' play one on local access TV and at shows." He smiles a bit, though the words seem to have less sincerity then they might have a couple weeks ago.

William Halloran: He turns eyes to where Ewan just left, and shakes his head. "Meybe. Or maybe he's someone t'watch."

Wendy Berber: *She takes her time buckling her other shoe, retreiving her watch from the grass and putting it back on too. She pushes at her glasses, the tape in the middle and gum holding the lens in not looking so spiffy. If thats all happened since will last saw her.. she's done a number on them. she rubs her cheeks and gives a little shake of her head, saying softly*.. um. he's ok. he's my um relative, sorta.

Joe Vellim: d10: : 9,7,1,10,

William Halloran: "Yer relative looks like he's about to slaughter someone. He better watch that." It's not hostile to Wendy...almost more protective of her. Definitely hostile in the direction Ewan went.

Joe Vellim: *As Wendy arranges herself, Joe's eyes flick from the watch she retrieves, to William, then back to her. His eyes pass to the water for a moment before he takes another pull from the flask, though he doesn't say anything to the girl.. hell, only difference is, it was a bridge he stared over..* Family, heh? issat why ya havin' kinna onea dem 'okay' days? *His voice is suprisingly gentle, comradely.*

Wendy Berber: Kay. *she gives a limp nod. A sniffle .. a cold perhaps? She watches Joes flask listlessly a moment, before ink blue eyes flit up to his face and then back to the ground. a pause before she speaks in a small consice voice*.. yes sir. um. its ok tho.

William Halloran: He looks back to Wendy and Joe, shifting position to face them both. His protectiveness fades in intensity, though it's still there. Always there, when someone who needs it is around him.

Joe Vellim: *He chuckles as he offers Wendy the flask again.* Dassright- keep th' cold away, yeah? *a wink*Sa... weah boaf kinda ugly feh goylfriends.. but hey.. yew needta talk uh anytin.. need some help.. weah suckahs feh kids hangin' out at Battery aftah dahk.. *a bit of mirth, quite a bit of concern.*

Wendy Berber: *she takes as big a mouthful of the liquid fire as she can, gacking and coughing as it burns down her throat, nodding and squeezing her eyes shut against the sensation.. she wobbles the flask back to joe in a knobby hand.. managing* so...K - ay

William Halloran: The man's comment draws an odd look from him, mainly the part about girlfriends. He nods at the second part, though. "Yeh...m'happy to help." He looks at Wendy, smiling a bit, then around the park area briefly.

Joe Vellim: *He takes it back, a worried frown as he considers the water, the bluster falling silent for a bit as he just hangs out with the two of them, tucking a stray ear back under his watch cap now and then.*

Joe Vellim: *Bright eyes come to rest on Wendy again as the smaller of the two men nods to her in agreement with William's statement. The smile is plain, not the broken remnant of the Vellim dazzler.. rather something simple.*

Wendy Berber: *no socks today.. odd. Her ankle is swollen, some old bruises and lacerations fading from a few days ago. another gasp as she gives a cough and pulls her sweater round herself.. for a moment the outline of her actual body visible from the back.. 1/3 the size of the seater she's wearing. Maybe she was like one of those lizards that puff up to look bigger and scarier than they really are. a hand tucks at her messy hair.. trying for neatness* um.. thank you. I'm sorry. You don't have to. its ok.

Wendy Berber: *two seperate weak little smiles offered, one to each of the men... here she was making them guilty when they likely had wives and people to go home to. stuff to do. A bit of an odd blink at the tingle behind her eyes. peculiar*

William Halloran: "Don't have ta," he says in agreement. "Choose ta." He takes a drag off his cigarette, shrugging a bit. "You're welcome, and ya ain't gotta be sorry for nothin'."

Wendy Berber: *nods her head, a finger pushing at her glasses. ... should she say something?*

Joe Vellim: well... shuwah.. only.. we kinna wanna if'n ya feelin' game, yannow? *The concern is plain, but the short irishman does note the bruises.* Hey uh... Wendy? Looks like sumeone hoyt yah.. yew still havin' trouble wit' dem muggah's? Ah hoyd it was taken careah..?

Wendy Berber: *she flushes a little, head dipped, shifting her weight on her feet*.. um.. i got tangled in my laundry.. uh.. basket. *she shudders and rubs her arms*

William Halloran: "Muggers?" He looks to Joe, and back to Wendy, concerned.

Wendy Berber: *a nod to will, apologetic*.. I got mugged. *she admits, releived for the topic change. she didn't want to think about the laundromat. Muggers were safer*

Joe Vellim: *At first he looks relieved, oddly, that it was merely a wrestling match with a laundry basket.. he looks ~way~ up to William to answer.* Well, yeah.. Peaches heah encountered da Big Apple clee- shay, see. Got mugged up.. *He holds up a hand.* Not recently.. me an' some buddies went ta check up on 'tings... yannow.. straighten stuff out, yeah? Only, someone beat us tew it, yeah? Big old fukkah widda bat went an' talked tings ovah wit da lowlife scumbags what had dat alley. Don' look like dey wan' it no moah...

Wendy Berber: d10: intel: 6,1,5,7,

Joe Vellim: ((staples))

William Halloran: Hmm. He had a bat, but he hadn't beaten anyone in an alley with it...he hadn't beaten anyone at all, though not for lack of searching. He nods a little bit. "'Least someone taught 'em the error o' their ways." He looks toward Wendy, eyes on the ground again. "Sorry t'hear ya had to deal wit' that."

Joe Vellim: *A too- playful chuckle chirps out of him as he nods to William, eyes gleaming at the idea of street justice before he remembers himself, and nods to wendy, his own eyes touching the ground, contrite.* Yeah.. yeah... sahrry. *He wipes his nose.*

Wendy Berber: *she frowns a little as she thinks about what joe's said, guilty* its ok. *she scuffs a shoe, before looking all the way up to will, and venturing*... um. *she pinches at her finger, rolling her lips together. Face a tad sad* Um. did you like your books sir?

William Halloran: "Huh?" He looks up at her suddenly, blinking, and then nods. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, they were good...thanks."

Wendy Berber: J.R Pennings is a little um.. wordy. but um.. its worth wading through.. i think? if um. if you've gotten to that one. *she rubs at the back of her head.. then cringes. just imply the big man is DUMB wendy.. way to go. ugh. idiot!*

William Halloran: "I ain't got to that one yet, no." He shakes his head. "Still workin' on the first one...gotta keep a dictionary at the table to look up the words I don't know. All sortsa new shit in my vocabulary now..." A smile and shrug.

Joe Vellim: *Joe nods along.. that JR... whoevah.. yep. sure is.. wordy and.. stuff. The short irishman seems content to fade into the background of things.. finding fellowship with his fellow outcasts enough to dodge his thoughts for a while.* ((Sorry guys, I'm going to have to go to bed.))

William Halloran: ((It's all good. Thanks for the RP, man!))

Wendy Berber: the um. the Sutton and Youhe book is probably.. uh. your best one to read first.. if thats not the one you're um. reading. *she pinches at her fingertips, mind veeringa way from herself and into the world of knowledge and literature.. at least here she had some worth* uh..it has a glossary of its own, with um.. common terms..

William Halloran: ((FTB))

Wendy Berber: (night all! thanks!)