saturniapavonia: (kids will talk)
Roman Godfrey ([personal profile] saturniapavonia) wrote2013-10-15 08:08 pm
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(no subject)

 
"Hey. Roman here. Leave a message."
action/logging :: text :: email :: spam
lefthandedgenius: (i don't want to look up)

Text.

[personal profile] lefthandedgenius 2013-10-16 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
Hey. You got time for me to stop by? Or can you stop by my place?
lefthandedgenius: (dimple)

[personal profile] lefthandedgenius 2013-10-16 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
I'll be waiting. There'll be booze.
lefthandedgenius: (amazed)

[personal profile] lefthandedgenius 2013-10-16 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
[She greets him at the door with a faint smile and ushers him in. The two bedroom apartment is clearly in a half unpacked state, and Lydia has her hair down for the night. But what's waiting for him on the coffee table isn't beer, but a pair of shotglasses and a bottle of vodka.]

Hey. I think we need to talk. And it's going to kind of suck for both of us, I suspect.

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velveteenwolf: (Waiting on a Call)

Backdated -- [Text]

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2013-11-03 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
Hey where are you?
velveteenwolf: (Blue Eyed Blue)

[Text]

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2013-11-03 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
Can we talk?

[He needs to talk to him. Last night was... it was draining. All he wants is to run, but there's nowhere to run to, and this time, this time he's reaching out instead of vanishing.]
velveteenwolf: (Get Out of This Town)

[Text]

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2013-11-03 07:32 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah. I'll be here I'm at home.

[He makes himself wait and it's excruciating. He nurses a beer, sits on the couch, paces a little, and is lounging on the couch tapping the beer bottle against his shin, probably, by the time Roman gets home.]
velveteenwolf: (Child 2)

[Video]

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2013-11-11 04:19 am (UTC)(link)
[He's having trouble with it, but he eventually manages to get it to work. His memories are fuzzy so it's like getting to learn it all over again. The face on the video screen is suspiciously small and with pinchable cheeks. It's only those big clear blue eyes and his lips that might seem familiar.]

Roman, where are you?

[Because Peter is eleven right now and the fact that Roman isn't here with him is strangely confusing.]
velveteenwolf: (Child 1)

[Video]

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2013-11-11 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
With Derek.

[As if that's somehow obvious.]

But I wanted to see you and you're not here.

[He pouts and looks as if this is something intrinsically wrong with the world.]
velveteenwolf: (Child 3)

[Video]

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2013-11-11 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah.

[His tone says obviously.]

But I like you and you're not here and that sucks. So where are you?

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velveteenwolf: (Smug Jerk)

Text;

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2014-01-24 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
whatre you doing? we should go out or something.

[By which he means drive around with smokes and alcohol and that gorgeous fucking car.]
velveteenwolf: (When You Need Me Too Much)

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2014-01-24 09:12 am (UTC)(link)
by that coffee place.

[You know, spiking some bullshit latte with whiskey. And he wants to steal your smokes, and ride shotgun in your car.]

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velveteenwolf: (Heart Lit From Within)

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2014-04-27 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
[Peter still doesn't know that Roman works. Sure, he slips off for hours at a time, comes back smelling of cigarettes and greed and mixed drinks. Which is to say that he could have ended up at any of the number of bars in different areas of the City. It wasn't something Peter worried about; he and Roman had common vices. Peter just preferred a hammock and a warm afternoon.

Today, however, the werewolf was slipping into the casino with a toothy smile. He'd picked up a small number of chips and was debating between poker of blackjack when he saw a familiar face.

Normally, it wouldn't have phased him, but he was on the wrong fucking side of the counter. Roman couldn't be working here... could he? Godfreys didn't work for a living. But, then again, Roman did manage to have a fair amount of disposable cash.

He couldn't stop himself from watching. He was honestly impressed. The smile that curved his lips was honestly affectionate more than anything, because Peter understood that it meant something. It took a while before he finally headed over, putting himself in Roman's line of sight.]


Hey. You on break soon?

[He was trying to not make a big deal out of it. Last thing he wanted to do was make him feel shitty about it.]
velveteenwolf: (Smug Jerk)

[personal profile] velveteenwolf 2014-04-27 06:58 am (UTC)(link)
I'll wait for you.

[He smiles, warm, and briefly touches fingers to Roman's shoulder as he walks over to the bar. Sure, it would probably have been better to talk about at home, but with his luck, Roman would see him as he left, and by the time he got home it would have been more of a thing than it needed to be.

So they could talk it out here. Not that there was much to talk about; just that there wasn't much reason for Roman to hide it from him, which in hindsight he was pretty sure he had been.

Sure, it was ironic as fuck, but that didn't mean he was going to mock him for it. His Godfrey name can't pull money out of trees here, he guesses, even if that should have been obvious. And between them, Roman was the only one really bringing in money. Peter brought home clothes, DVDs and other odds and ends he 'acquired' when they caught his eye.

He sipped at a beer and tried to keep from watching him. But, Roman made it hard. Green eyes and a pretty face.]

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digophelia: (Your eyes never close  your mind's not a)

[personal profile] digophelia 2019-07-03 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ Blood and gore?

Alice had other concerns and, in her opinion, isn't the worst of things in her unfortunate life. Having a vague knowledge of what type of person Roman was (and honestly, drinking blood sounds like superstitious nonsense to her), it's her first time seeing him act out on his natural need for sustenance.

That is to say, Alice's reaction is equally disturbing, with a nonchalant crossing of her arms and tapping of her boots. All Alice can say simply is- ]


I do hope you don't ruin that shirt; blood is impossible to wash out.

[ That's it. That's Alice's thoughts on the matter. In addition to- ]

I'm assuming that fellow was well deserving to be a midnight meal?