vicenterosas

[vicenterosas]

He takes the paper and unfolds it, of course staining it with blackened fingertips. Vic looks from the paper to her - confused at first - but then finds himself whistling low. Beauties, and if there's two? A project and a half. With the usual fee, he'd be set on savings for a while, too.

He licks his lips as he thinks - two weeks to get it done? Maybe, depending on the extent of the damage but he thinks he could get it done - especially if he took a bit of time off from the shop and didn't head over towards the hotel every fuckin' night.

Shit.

"You can do shop price, that's cool by me." It's also his way of saying he'll take the job. "I gotta check it all out, and if there's a lotta shit wrong with 'em, it might take me some doin'. But I'll give it a shot."

He should ask but he does anyways: "What're they for?"

"You sure?" She asks as if she might start lifting whatever various metal parts are scattered around the garage. Nsilo, for a moment, actually thinks she might enjoy it. But there's none of that. Just a little hmph that slips by her lips at his remark.

There is a folded piece of paper that she retrieves from the gap between her clothes and her shoulder. She hands it over like it's necessary for the explanation. He can get it messy, for one. "Oil it up, all you like." Maybe not requiring an engineer, but certainly a good mechanic.

"I'm working on a little project myself," she confesses, eyes slipping away to the shack of a place. She waits for him to unfurl the paper before catching his gaze again. "— I have two in storage, in Seattle. Identical almost." Chevy Corvette's, that is. 1969. "I remember that it was a year, but they haven't run since '84. One took some damage in a street race, never worked since. The other's engine makes a sound and spits water." She laughs like it's funny she's left them to rot. Unintentionally, but she hadn't needed them til she might do something fun with them this year. "I'll get them here to your little shop and you get them up and going, by Hallow's Eve, I'll try to make it worth your while. Whatever your price." a beat, "Think you can do it, sweet wolf?"

[vicenterosas]

"Yeah, I stop by there from time to time." Is that important? He ducks his head, covering up the way he knows that his face is going to flush red at the thought of the damn owner and his damn fuckin' pack leader. "I know the owner pretty well."

The chime of the door catches his attention, and he turns away to take care of it -

And a few hours later, they're in stepping out of Vic's beat up old truck and making their way into the Heron Club. Relatively safe for the two of them, considering Raf's connect to Cerberus. He gestures for the bartender to slide over when they get a chance and orders himself something local and strong.

"How's shit with your kid, by the way?" Vague enough to not be hinting at the werewolf thing.

"Oh, sure." he says, deftly dodging Vic's boot down in the pit, only just barely, before he reaches up to test the tightness of the seal and, satisfied, pulls his hand free, hoisting himself out of the pit and snapping one glove across the footpath and into a trash can before doing the same with the other, missing twice and putting them in after shamefull meandering over to do so.

"That sounds like a fine time," he says as he stands back up, wiping his brow on his forearm. "I'll text Theo, let her know I might be a bit later." He enters a few things in the computer and waits for the invoice to print. "You go to that old place a lot? Cliffsides I mean."

[vicenterosas]

Vic's not sure what's in Ash's head - if he's regretting this or wanting more or -- All in all, the nerves are real. Too real. He overthinks, he hates that he overthinks. And he wants this, wants it to be exactly what it could be. But there's also the worry, too. That maybe he won't be enough for Ash, that it'll be too hard with how Vic feels with physical affection.

He swallows, and takes the kiss and returns it in kind. A little hungry, a little trying to reassure himself and Ash that he's all in. The teasing warms his chest, nestling there and making itself a home - something to think about and come back to when he knows he's going to doubt it later.

The question, soft against his lips, allows him another moment to catch his breath. "Good. Bueno."

Every movement and twitch of his muscles, lips and fingers, is carefully calculated to keep himself reeled in. He feels wanted. And wanted in a way that doesn't make him want to shrink inward. "This - uh." The words are out of his mouth before he can swallow them up. "It's not just about the - You like me?"

Ash is rarely selfish. A pack leader, a werewolf who's spent much of his time making sure others are fed and clean and safe before himself - he's spent his time at Cliffsides turning it into a safe haven. It's a reprieve for those freshly thrust into the supernatural world. It's something he wished he'd had, years and years ago.

But in this moment, maybe he can be a bit selfish, and drink in Vic's presence and the way he smiles and holds the taller man's waist. Maybe he can delight in the way he makes it hard for Vic to breathe and talk. It's something just for him - and Ash's hands have stayed at his bowed jaw, thumbs tracing skin.

"B-Best... not t-talk then... maybe. For... a bit." A rare try at teasing too, followed by a slower and deeper kiss.

A mumble against his mouth, with a little smile: "...E-Está bien?"

His nose brushes Vic's nose. His lips kiss the corner of Vic's lips. His hands slip around Vic's waist, and he waits to make sure it really is alright, even if all his senses are on fire, even if his fingers curl into the other's hips just a tiny bit possessively.

[vicenterosas]

Kanemaru- What was your muse like when they were younger? Has that changed much in the way they are now?

He was a little more reckless when he was younger, and a lot angrier than he is now. With his age, he's grown more shy, more reserved, and finds it easier to reign himself in. Vic's spent a lot of time working on being able to do that and is pretty proud of himself for not flying off the handle when he might have before.

[vicenterosas]

Augury- How much does your muse think about the future? Are they a planner, a worrier, or do they just prefer to take life as it comes?

Vic is very much a worrier, unfortunately. He's worried about the past, the future, and the present. There does not a day go by where he's chewing on his nails about something or other. That being said, he's not great at making plans, either - which makes the worrying worse.

[vicenterosas]

He looks down at his greasy hands, oil all over his coveralls - a sight t see for someone like this woman standing in front of him, he figures. "I'm good, I'll clean up later." Especially since there's a whole list of clients waiting to be taken care of later - breaks or no. He'll wash his hands to eat his shitty little sandwich he brought from home and that'll be good enough til he hits the showers.

"Lady, I ain't no engineer." He can't design shit. Nor can he figure out complicated stuff. Cars are easy. "You want help puttin' somethin' together, I can give it a shot. Or you want somethin' fixed, that's more my speed."

He is curious, though.

"Whatcha need me for?" Doesn't she run that casino?

There's a clang echoing from within the shop ahead of her, eyes fly in the direction of the sound. It has Nsilo lowering her nails from the steel she's left gouges in.

Then there's cursing, she stops herself from chuckling — pendejo, por favor, but she doesn't say a word about it because he appears already sweaty and worn on emergence. Apparently, he's been freshly climbing out from within a volcano, as appearances go. He might be perfect, for what she wants.

Grease monkeys, that is.

Smiling, she offers, "Perhaps you need a hand first," nudging her head at his streaks of oil that only spread with each new movement he makes. She steps forward, "And then we can chat about how I need an engineer or two for a private contract — don't worry, there's an engine involved."

A few, even.

[vicenterosas]

Not a bad shift - and Raf seems like he does good work, or at least wants to do good work. They need more people like that here. Between him, Arte, and himself, they're sure to have a pretty good team going when they're all on shift. Well-oiled machine and whatnot.

"Six today, eight the rest of the week." He teases, nudging at him with the tip of his boot. What he wouldn't give for a cigarette right now - just for at least something to do with his hands.

Instead, he grabs a wrench and starts fiddling with it, twirling it around a finger. "Yeah, man, I was just wonderin' if you wanted to head out after and grab a beer and a burger at the drive-in. I'm gonna head out to the Cliffsides after, so I can just give ya a ride."

He waves off the notion that others might have heard him sharing the song stuck in his head with a smile and half of a laugh. "Let'em hear, it's culture." He grabs the filter and looks up to find where it goes, reaching his tool up into the space to loosen what needs loosened and dropping it into the bucket full of old ones.

Working on screwing it on and tightening it into place, he tests it and casts a glance to Vic. "Uhh, I think they're showing me how to close tonight so like... I think six?"

L'il embarassing he's already forgotten the hours at Palmer's, but eh, what can you do? "Any reason? What're you doing later?" He likes Vic, the guy's easygoing and friendly, which has show him throughout the course of the day it's true that the book cover doesn't tell the whole story.

[vicenterosas]

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TASK #001

As of right now, what is your (OOC) endgame goal for your character?

I really want Vicente to get involved in some heavier plots, whether that's to help someone out of one or for he himself to be involved. I love writing the juxtaposition of a character who really doesn't know anything to do with anything suddenly being pulled into stuff that's way over their head. Could be that he's a pawn in someone else's game, used as bait, or getting him so revved up that he tries to strike out.

What is your character striving to do or complete, if anything?

Vic as a character wants to stay out of drama. Me as a writer wants him to suffer. He has family back in Texas that he barely keeps in touch with, but he sends money to from his job as a mechanic. And he has his flirtationship with Ash. Aside from that, he just wants to keep his pack safe - an increasingly difficult task.

In the next two weeks, what would your character be doing to further along those goals?

He'd definitely try and pick his Alpha's brain on what they could do to extend more safety out to those who might need it. Vic knows that Harford was built on staying on the sidelines, but he's starting to believe that maybe they need to step up and be an example - so he'd try and talk to Ash and see what they can do there.

Is there a long term plan? A short term plan?

Short term - gather information, make a plan, talk to werewolves from Eventide and see if they're feeling the same way. Long term - going against his natural instincts of staying out of it and getting involved in ways that he would have never done years prior. He wants to become stronger in any way he can, wants to make sure his pack and his friends are stronger to - this could mean being used by a witch or hunter, easily.

Would they enlist help along their way? Why or why not?

Absolutely, yes. Vicente has no qualms about admitting he'd be way in over his head when it comes to facing down others in the city. There's no way he can look at the vampire clans or witch covens or hunter guilds and think: yeah, I can take them on my own. He needs the help, and readily admits it.

What would frustrate them the most or get in the way of their plans?

Being harmed, and therefore putting him out of commission. He wants to help lead. You can't help lead when you're trying to rest and nurse wounds.

[vicenterosas]

Eden’s Apple

How in touch with their sexuality is your muse? Are they adventurous or more hesitant when it comes to pleasure?

Vic is demisexual, so he pretty much functions as a mostly asexual person unless the right man comes along. There have been a few experiences over his life that he has tried and hasn't enjoyed for the most part, and he does have a lot of self-doubt and anxiety about his sexuality in general. He's definitely more hesitant, and it takes a long while for him to be comfortable with anything more than kissing - especially if he genuinely likes them.

[vicenterosas]

Ash's face breaks into a smile, and Vic finds himself breathing out a sigh of relief - some bubble of tension releasing itself in his chest. It only lasts for a moment before the older man is leaning forward, down and pressing their lips together. It steals his breath, squeezes at his heart - Sure, he'd known where this was leading. But the reality is so much better.

He's almost too shocked to kiss back, despite all signs pointing to the obvious, and when it ends - his eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, and he follows after Ash, as if trying for more.

When he realizes that the kiss is over, he blinks his eyes open and the ruddy color of his cheeks and ears deepen even further - too warm. His breath comes out shaky, almost laughing - embarrassed at himself, at how he seems so..

Well, wanting. Like a teenager again with his first crush, kissing behind the bleachers during a basketball game.

Vic licks his lips and he tries for a smile, hands shaking slightly as they rest against Ash's waist. "Uh. Yeah - Yeah, I.." He nods. "Yes. Sorry, I - uh - whew. I feel like -- breathin' is hard. Talkin' harder."

The give and take, the guessing game, goes on just a bit longer. It leaves Ashwin wondering if he's pushing too much. Too close for too long. Lingering in a space that maybe Vic doesn't want...

But they're meeting eyes, even briefly. As Ash's thumb moves, he can see that Adam's apple bob on a strong neck.

I just want to spend time with you.

Ash beams at that. Sees that frantic nodding and both hands move up to cradle Vic's face, to calm him a bit. His warm brown eyes are alight with an excitement and joy, and he leans gingerly down.

The space between them is gone as the pack leader's lips rest careful and sweet against the other's. Testing waters, checking that it's alright. Please let it be alright. Thumbs rest at Vic's lovely cheekbones and warm broad hands are tangled into his dark hair... and Ash pulls back, checking the other's expression, almost afraid to look. "I... want to sp...spend time with you... too."

[vicenterosas]

They're close. Vic would say almost too close, if he didn't enjoy the proximity. He doesn't want to be this shy or this - ashamed? He guesses. He wishes he could take what he wants, do what he wants, but there's always the fear that it'll be too much for him or too much for the other person. So he just shoves it all away and hopes for the best.

The best this time is Ash noticing. And he has. Maybe. Because he's touching him, lifting his chin up - crooked jaw and all - and looking at him like..

Fuck it, Vic's not a poet, he doesn't know what sort of flowery shit this might be. But it's nice. It's good. And despite being afraid, he wants to try. He'd like to go over. He'd like to spend time with him, but he's afraid that it'll go too far, too fast and it'll ruin it.

There's only ever been one person he'd allowed himself to get close to. And that man's standing right here in front of him, thumb brushing along the five o'clock shadow gracing his skin. Vic swallows hard, and nods.

"Yeah. Yeah, I--" Another nod, too frantic. "That's okay." Maybe he can be a little brave. "I just want to spend time with you."

It's a leap off a cliff, because the only thing the old wolf has to go off of are inklings. Little looks and the way Vic goes a little red sometimes... he can get him to stutter so easily, and Ash can't deny that he enjoys it. But he's not used to all this, after all. And making someone so close to him, so important to him, uncomfortable... that would ruin everything.

Their eyes meet for a long moment. He stays quiet and just listens. As Vic keeps tripping over his words, Ash's smile only grows. But that look of confusion is still there. Eyebrows knit together, trying to just figure out if this man is...

"You... are? Don't mind... m-my company?" Ash is stepping closer before he can second-guess himself. Nearly chest to chest in the shabby old motel room. "Come... over th-then?" One hand carefully comes up, and his thumb brushes along the edge of Vic's chin. "If that's... okay?" He adds, and maybe he's asking for multiple reasons.

[vicenterosas]

He doesn't really think anything of what he'd said, still bending down to scritch behind George's ear. "Yeah, man, anytime." Vic doesn't actually expect what happens next - his hand in Ash's. Immediately, his back straightens up and he locks eyes with him - unable to look away, but feeling like he needs to. Vic's on fire from the inside out, embarrassed at feeling so put on the spot.

His tongue feels a little too thick in his throat, and he's not sure if he even remembers how to speak. Eventually, when Ash lets go, he feels like he can breath again. The breath he takes is shaky, and he brushes his hand back through his hair. "Ah. Uh."

Even with his stutter and stop-starting, somehow Ash has said and done the smoothest thing possible here. And Vic's still not sure if the man is messing with him or if he's imagining things or some sort of combination of the two.

Clearing his throat, he tries for a smile. "I'm cool with that." His voice wavers. "I mean, yeah. Yeah, you can come over anytime." Another clear of his throat, "I got, uh, I got nothing better to do."

George is nearly falling over his own short legs to get to Vic, and Ash grins as he watches. The pack leader leans the hamper against one hip. It's nice seeing his friend, his fellow pack member, being so loved by the dogs. And he certainly catches the look on his face when he gets close.

"A-Any... time?" That gets a chuckle, and he sees Vic chew on his finger. Nasty little habit. And maybe a good excuse. The older man sets the hamper down and walks to him, and takes that hand with his own, pulling it gently away from Vic's mouth. A warm and calloused grip, as brown eyes regard him. "You... may f-find me sh-showing up a bit... t-too often."

His head tilts and that hand is still in Ash's for a moment longer before he finally releases it. Maybe standing a little too close. "As l-long as... you want."

[vicenterosas]

Vic's elbow deep in an engine, covered head to toe with oil and grime in a way that makes him look like he hasn't showered in what seems to be days. It's been a busy day, busier than most - and he's the only one here right now. Raf's out at another job, and Arte's dealing with other shit. Just him for now.

He's trying to get something unhooked so they can lift the damn thing out of the car body, but it's proving to be a difficult one person job - which means he doesn't exactly hear the first knock.

The screeching sound makes him jump, knocking his head on the top hood of the car and curses a long string of Spanish, at himself, at the car, at the visitor - and then catches himself. "So - sorry, fuck." He rubs his head - getting more grease in his hair - and then wipes the sweat from his brow - another slick of oil smeared across his forehead.

"What can I help ya with, ma'am?" He can smell the stench of blood and death on her, and with the way she's dressed - maybe he's in for a rough one.

For: @vicenterosas

Nsilo has rarely any business in wolf territory. The last time she concerned herself over the pups, had been when a man had tried to get the better of blackjack — and proceeded to run circles around her clients. She'd taken it upon herself to serve him a Castillon brand of justice. The family is suffering still.

But she's here again, in the dusty streets of a mechanic's yard.

Looking for a guy — gal — whoever to help fix a problem.

She's heard the reputation of the werewolves and their ability to put together scrap from nothing, to something. Helpful, when applied to an upgrade she wants for Anemoia. Her guys aren't sharp enough for this, another point of view never hurts.

Her knuckles rap on the open garage door of the shop. It's soft even — echoing on the corrugated metal plenty without force. She's probably overdressed, in a deep indigo suede suit, fingernails painted an even deeper shade of violet.

Maybe they can't hear her over the sound of power tools going off in the garage.

So, to make a point — she scratches her nails down the length of the door until it makes an unpleasant squeal for attention.

[vicenterosas]

With all the corgis rushing over to meet him, Vic's attention is split - so he leans down and lets all four of them sniff him and goes to pet George first. Silly little thing. "You don't pay me, but that ain't gonna stop me." He laughs it out, but relents and lets Ash take it from him - a little more red in the cheeks at the proximity of him.

Unsure of what to do now that he doesn't have the laundry to occupy his hands, he shoves them in his pockets and finds the doorframe to lean against. "I can come by yours anytime, you know that. Or you could stop by my dinky little apartment." He shrugs, and ducks his head at the nudge to his shoulder.

"Nah, you're not. You're spry, man." With a laugh, but he brings his thumb to his mouth and chews at the fingernail. Little bit of a nervous tick. "How much longer you got here?"

He's trying to get back to his feet - the corgis are all swarming to sniff at Vic eagerly, all while Ash is easing up and back to his full height, still chuckling in his own embarrassment.

And Vic's picking up things and Ashwin shakes his head, holding out a hand to take it from him. "H-Hey, hey... no n-need, st...stop. I don't... pay ya." He teases, slipping his hands around the bundle of laundry to take it back from Vic, getting close to transfer the heap of dirty sheets back to his own arms.

"W...was going to ask... to come b-by the... house or. Something." Ash gives a nudge of shoulder against Vic's before he's tossing the bundle into the laundry hamper he's been carrying along, sitting near the door. Ash wipes his brow and settles a hand on his hip. "Getting... t-too old..." He winks.

[vicenterosas]

hc + 😶 for a headcanon about a secret they know of / keep

The only time he'd keep secrets is if he knows it would cause direct harm to tell someone. That being said, the only secret he keeps is more to do with his family in Texas than anything in Port Leiry. He found out years prior to arriving that one of his cousins was also turned, but chose to stay there for now and struggles to hide that fact from the rest of the family.

[vicenterosas]

% Matteo

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

[text to: matteo] what's the deal with yall and turned wolves? [text to: matteo] is there a reason, eh?

[vicenterosas]

The past few weeks since the masquerade had left him a little more on edge than he'd have liked to admit. Vic prided himself on not letting shit get to him. After all he'd been through back in Texas and on the road, being in a cushy city shouldn't have any dangers.

'Cept that masquerade shit proved that all wrong.

He'd been doing as he'd been instructed to, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious or - literally anything that stood out. Most of the time it was a whole lot of fat nothing, but the regular visits out to the Cliffsides were worth an empty notepad.

Pulling up in his truck, he noticed the doors to the rooms opened and the large figure of Ash tumbling to the ground. Jumping out of the seat, he approached slowly - with a bit of a laugh on his lips. The compliment made his ears turn a little ruddy, but the flop of his curls hid most of it.

"Surprised ya?" He calls, heading over to help with whatever he can grab. "Figured I'd stop by a little early. Shit's - uh, slow at Palmer's."

( @vicenterosas )

He knows that Vic’s bound to stop by at some point today- and it shouldn’t be distracting him as much as it has been from his work day. The pack leader has been carrying a laundry hamper to each empty room, grabbing up sheets and pillowcases and towels. It should be easy work… when he’s not forgetting what the hell he’s doing, wondering if he has any booze or something he and Vic can enjoy in the office. Or if he'd like to come back to his. Or maybe they could go out? 

He’s tugging a stained fitted sheet off an old mattress in one of the rooms when he sees Vic’s truck through the open door- losing all of his focus and balance, and slipping right onto his ass with a deep, rumbling laugh as he hits the floor. “H….Hola, guapo!” He calls, still chuckling as he gets himself up with a groan. His old denim shirt is tossed over a chair and he’s wearing his usual work pants and a dirty undershirt, hair back and out of his face in a bun. "You s...surprised me."