{PRIVATE} The Lycan Universe roleplay

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Okay, Lycans are an original idea of Dragon's, so, yeah. All info on Character Sheet!

Tristan sighed heavily as he wheeled himself inside of the local bar...the one where all this crap began. Muttering several curse words under his breath, he made his way to the table, pulling out some money and tossing it onto the table before unhooking the latch on his guitar case (which was held on with bubblegum) and quietly slipped the instrument out before tuning and swiftly beginning to play. He looked up with a start as he noticed a stout waiter looking at him curiously. What do you want? I'm not poisonous...Ugh, just get me a six pack of Budweiser, he snarled, dropping his gaze back to the guitar before shaking himself off, straightening his leather jacket and Beatles tee with the single motion.

I don't need anything, Robyn said, shaking her head and folding her arms on the table in front of her. She had a habit of overemphasizing things when she got upset, though, especially actions, and the creak an crack of the table alarmed her, making her pull back her arms and look at it as if it woul collapse at any second. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Tristan frowned, biting his lip before thinking. After a moment, he finally made his way back to her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder as he reached her. Look, I'm sorry... I've just been on edge lately, if you know what I mean. So...if you want anything I'll pay for you, make up for everything, he said quietly, forcing a weak smile to appear on his face as he locked his bloodshot gaze with her.

I'm just trying to help. Robyn did her best to try not to let her voice sound hurt, like she actually depended on this guy. As if. She was just trying to make someone's life easier, and here they were, spurning everything she did. She was half-wishing that Raven were here to put this guy back in his place, but no. No such luck for her, sadly... not a chance in the world. Wiping the unbidden tears away, she turned back and went to the table. But fine. You be stubborn. See if I care.

Tristan sighed, rolling his eyes and growling. Look, I'm trying not to get angry, but I'm on a short rope right now, and you're starting to push me over the edge. Just let me leave so I can leave here without looking stranger than I already am, he said shortly as he continued for the door, muttering several obscene phrases under his breath as he pressed onwards.

No, I really will go! I mean it! I... Robyn's voice cracked in the middle of her insisting. I just came here to get away, and I'll just as easily go back. It's not like anything's different for me out there... I mean, come on, you can stay if you want to, right? She was fully aware that she was attracting odd gazes and glares from the bar-goers, and it wasn't really working for her local reputation. But why couldn't she just insist that he stay and she go? She walked after him again, probably looking like a lost puppy, but she didn't really care. Who would, anyways, except her? So if she didn't care, no body should. Too bad it hardly ever worked that way...

Tristan frowned, shaking his head and backing up once more as he spoke. No, this is my fault. I'm just being a self-centered jerk.... I'm leaving, you stay. If you're looking for beer, you can just take the three of mine that are left...I don't even like the stuff...I'm just trying to escape, he said firmly before making his way around her and looking back at the steps, sighing heavily before he finally ended up heading towards the emergency fire exit at the back of the bar. The fire exit was the one place that the people who originally had this place built had wanted a ramp, so usually he'd just go out that way and save himself the trouble of finding out a way down the steps.

Robyn frowned, her sharper-edged voice fading in the quiet, soft tone she normally used. Wait! Yelling was nearly useless: Robyn never yelled unless it was needed. So she simply walked after him, stopping before she walked into the wall by the door. You don't need to go... I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'll go, really I will... Cue the persistent side which she'd trained into herself, to insist that the other person need not cave in, that she would go instead, that she would serve their every freaking whim, et cetera. Et. Freaking. Cetera.

Tristan growled for a moment before finally shaking his head, backing away a bit before sighing, closing his eyes and ducking his head. You're right...I'm sorry.... Look, I'll just leave before I do much more.... he muttered quietly, swiftly turning around and making his way to the door before growling. This was the one thing he hated about this bar...the fact that the stupid airheads that had built it had only built steps...and they'd made them out of solid oak with perfectly sharp edges. He was fine going down steps, but the last time he'd tried these he'd ended up with a concussion since he'd gotten caught on one of the edges.

Aye, and how'll you get me from there? she asked, for once scornful. This guy was getting on Robyn's nerves, something that really didn't happen often. He was lucky she didn't just... wait. What would she do? It wasn't like she was a good fighter or anything. But she kept up with the taunting. My little sister could probably beat you in that thing. Why don't'cha just give up, hun? He'd gotten the sweeter sister madd at him, something nearly impossible to accomplish unless Robyn was in a horrid mood already. It's not like you'd be able to do a thing but run me over from your point.

Tristan snarled, raising a brow at her, turning towards her only after he had finished his other beer. Three down, three to go.... You want to try that again? Yeah, I'll take fries and give you a nice ass-kicking for them, too, he growled, wheeling himself forwards before folding his arms and waiting for the expected. To be exact, the "expected" was that one response that Tristan got. Every time he said that he'd always get 'How do you kick an ass from that piece of junk' and a smirk in reply, and in return he'd usually snarl, threaten to hurt them, then when they insulted him again his kinder side came out and he often just gave up and left.

Robyn bit her lip and nodded, moving slightly to make room for him to get out. She had no defiant side: whatever traces of rebellion she might have once had had been erased by years of looking after her family. Now that she was free, she had no clue what to do. Things were just confusing... But it was her life and she had to make it fit and work. It was her life and she had to put it in order. Now, if only she had gotten the hang of that organization thing her mother had tried to teach her, to get her things in order... Robyn's eyes flashed and she muttered, inaudible to anyone but herself (she thought), Sure, I'll take another order. You want fries with that?

LOL, before crossing her mother's path.

Tristan snarled at the girl, raising a brow at her before polishing off the beer he was holding. Yeah, whatever, just move your chair so I can get out when I'm done with my beer, he snapped, looking back at her with bloodshot emerald green eyes. Yeah...by now the older Tristan would've been spazzing out and trying to apologize, but the new Tristan...well...to be frank, he didn't really give a damn about anyone or anything...well, besides himself, his life, and his own misery.

Robyn frowned when she saw the scene between the guy in the wheelchair and the other, getting up to go stand over there to see if she could... Can I help? Her voice was quiet, as if she was used to being put down and yelled at and cussed out like there was no tomorrow. Well, she could see that someone wasn't in a good mood, and when someone wasn't in a good mood she was cautious. Heck, cautious was her middle name these days... Not really, it was Erin, but who cared? She had to look both ways before crossing her own mother's path, let alone the street.

Tristan frowned, noticing the person walking in before he nodded at the waiter who brought him his beers. The adolescent took a short moment to chug his first of the six beers before he turned to see if he could get out. Stupid. Airheads...nope. He hated when people just sat down right in his way with no regards to him whatsoever. Muttering under his breath, he slipped the guitar back into its case before folding his arms and turning around, beginning on his next beer. Mind moving a bit? he said shortly after he had taken a hefty sip of the bottle. The youth neither bothered to turn around nor so much as make a movement to show he acknowledged the girl's presence, obviously he was in a sour mood...but he had been for three weeks now....

Okay, Lycans are an original idea of Dragon's, so, yeah. All info on Character Sheet!

Tristan sighed heavily as he wheeled himself inside of the local bar...the one where all this crap began. Muttering several curse words under his breath, he made his way to the table, pulling out some money and tossing it onto the table before unhooking the latch on his guitar case (which was held on with bubblegum) and quietly slipped the instrument out before tuning and swiftly beginning to play. He looked up with a start as he noticed a stout waiter looking at him curiously. What do you want? I'm not poisonous...Ugh, just get me a six pack of Budweiser, he snarled, dropping his gaze back to the guitar before shaking himself off, straightening his leather jacket and Beatles tee with the single motion.