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Post by Malorie Cohen on Aug 1, 2009 13:29:21 GMT -7
Honestly, Malorie couldn't have been afraid of Setmi if she had tried, that sort of capacity of emotion had been lost to her ages ago. It had all washed out into the same lukewarm sensation...a crippling sardonic indifference.
Besides, to her the albino seemed a bit...foppish. Though she wasn't going to ask. Though him saying she wasn't his type did seem to cement any impressions that she had. Apparently he was some sort of crazy homosexual genetic byproduct. Damn she really collected the winners, didn't she?
The woman smirks and then makes a smoke ring, breaking it apart with her finger. "I got that feeling." she says with all too amused snort, "But don't worry, you aren't my type either. But then again, nobody is." Well it wasn't like she was some sort of fruit fly, and besides, she liked her males better put together, also, he hardly filled the tall, dark or handsome quota.
"As for your business of keeping alive? I really do wish you luck..." she flippantly pulls her hair back behind her ears and looks up for just a second. "Because you know...no one makes it out alive..."
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Post by balitiger23 on Aug 4, 2009 13:11:20 GMT -7
Setmi was feeling the first effects of exhaustion, having not slept for... what was it now? A week? Around there anyways, but apparently his mind had finally decided that he was in a safe enough place to finally rest. He didn't trust Malorie, but he also knew he would awaken should anyone attempt to barge in his room. A few precautions would ensure no one could get in without his knowing so. He wasn't paranoid, merely prepared for the worst at all times.
He found it curious Malorie supposedly had no type. Women needed men to protect them, and provide for them. Well, that and they wanted the mens money. It was a fact of life. Women were gold diggers at heart, and for the few that weren't, men were just a breeding tool in which to make more screaming spawn.
He shook his head lightly to bring himself back to paying attention to the woman before him. If he were going to survive at all, he had to stop zoning out and escaping within his own thoughts. Bad Setmi, no cookie.
A chuckle escaped him before he could stop it at Malorie's offhand comment about not getting out of life alive. "True, sooner or later we all die but I'd rather live while I can." A yawn escaped him but he didn't bother attempting to cover his mouth. Politeness really was one of his last worries.
He finished off his smoke and stepped on it with the heel of his boot. "Now show me to my room. I need to rest."
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Post by Malorie Cohen on Aug 4, 2009 13:22:51 GMT -7
"Get it yourself you pasty ass psycho."
Malorie pointed at the front desk where the grim looking clerk sat watching his nighttime soaps, zoning out in the dim glow of the tiny television set. "Goddamn." she huffs, rolling her eyes at Setmi with smirk. "Tell that guy there you need a room, he'll give you a key, and if you're reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeal nice, I -might- be able to help you find it."
"Though I doubt it."
The she-wolf waves her hand around and chuckles, still giving the albino an incredulous look, she couldn't believe that the freak would ask her for -anything- especially so soon after she and he agreed that he wouldn't do something like that.
Well some men apparently were never weaned off their mother's teat. It appeared that Pinky still needed some maternal figure to tell him what to do. So sad. But she wasn't surprised, he didn't exactly seem well adjusted or for that matter, normal in any way shape or form. Just some sick puppy that decided to follow her home.
Just what she fucking needed. Malorie groans, mumbling something under her breath before stepping inside the trashy hotel, "Yo, sadsack, kid here needs a place to stay." the guy at the counter gives her the finger, and of course, classy lady that she was, Malorie returned it with a dangerously toothy grin, before staring at Pinky.
"Well, go get your key."
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Post by balitiger23 on Aug 4, 2009 13:37:19 GMT -7
Setmi bristles and a deep growl trickles from his chest. "Listen here wench, I don't take orders from anyone, but especially not you!" He jabs a finger in her direction.
He huffs and pushes past her through the doors, his eyes locking on the desk clerk as a snake to a bird. He leans over the desk and gives the clerk some very good eye contact. "Just give me the damned key so I can go get some sleep!"
He leaned back while the clerk went to rummage through a room behind the desk that apparently held the keys. Just how many rooms were in this place anyways? He caught a glimpse of Malorie from the corner of his eye and he turned to better glare at her.
Sure, it was his own damned fault for trying to boss the woman around, but he knew that she and the desk clerk were laughing at him. Perhaps not visibly, but it was obvious that he was the butt of the joke. He didn't like being anyones amusement for any reason.
If he wasn't so tired he'd take out his frustrations on the clerk. Then a thought occured to him, and he dropped his face into his hands and sighed heavily. He looked up at Malorie, his facial features utterly neutral.
"Do I need money for this?"
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Post by Malorie Cohen on Aug 4, 2009 14:15:48 GMT -7
Malorie blatantly ignores the outburst of machismo from the indignant looking Pinky, the closest thing to a response the male gets is that same sneering smirk and a shake of the head as she pushes her glasses back up her nose.
"If you're a long term guest, payment is due on Friday by 5." she says sharply, adjusting her tie with an almost businesslike flare. "Though its due at 5 the day of checkout irregardless the day you check out." she clears her throat, a steady smokers cough.
The desk clerk just throws a key on the counter without saying a damn thing. "This is Monty, the proprietor, a big talker...and the most miserable waste of human space I have ever met." she bares her teeth at the older man who just shrugs. "Fix my radiator you lazy limey mother fucker." she says with one last jab with her skeleton-like finger.
"You'll learn to resent him like the rest of us. And about the time you think you'll send an icepick through his eye...he fixes the damn thing. Infuriating." The woman laughs bitterly, checking the number on the key's tag and starting up the flight of stairs, apparently, she was going to help Setmi to his room "But that's just how it rolls, he doesn't ask for ID or anything else though, so, you might as well know...this place is crawling with felons, everywhere, any any sort you'd like to think of."
Malorie shrugs and finally at their destination puts her arms up. "Well, that's about the gist of it Pinky, any questions?" she doesn't really give Pinky much time to say much. "No? Well, I'm sure you'll fit in here just fine."
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Post by balitiger23 on Aug 4, 2009 14:36:44 GMT -7
Setmi is a little taken aback by the sudden barriage of words from the woman; you'd think he'd be at least sort of used to it by now. Most women were windbags, was it really such a surprise that Malorie should be too? Nope.
He gives a slight nod as Malorie explains the payment plan. He wasn't worried about money; there was always means of acquiring cash in cities. Most weren't nearly as legal as others, but Setmi did what needed to be done. Worst came to worst, he'd just sneak away in the middle of the night and not pay. Wouldn't be the first or last time either.
Setmi didn't waste the effort it would have taken to look at the man, Monty. He would be dealing with him as little as possible. If it turned out he would be staying, he'd at least make the effort to remember the geezer's name, but for now, he was the desk clerk. Simple, easy.
He made a noise of protest as Malorie snatched his key as soon as the clerk had tossed it on the desk, and was tempted to just stay there and allow Malorie to walk away with his keys. But he knew he was being childish, so he followed her, his longer strides quickly catching up to the woman.
Criminals he could handle. He was sort of on the run from the only law he'd ever known, so he knew the type. He could probably keep his mouth from getting him into trouble. Probably.
Finally they came to a door and he stopped dead at Malorie's last few words. He turned to her and gave a long, slow blink that said he was processing what she had said. "Well... that's a new one." He looked at Malorie with a strange expression on his face, as though he was fighting whether to be civil or backhand her. Apparently civility won, because he held out his hand, silently asking for the key so he could retire to his room.
"I'm going to bed. I'll probably see you around, if I'm unlucky," He said with a smirk. Well, it was civil for him, at least.
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