...hey, Sweetheart. I need to talk to you.

[ I'm not gonna so much as lock this post to the two involved, but Luke's not likely to talk much to anybody but engelgefallen and wingedreplica right now. :|b ]

[ you may notice the rather unpleasant smell of oil and gunpowder coming from one corner of the dressing room. in said corner, you will find a pistol-wielding Luke! and for once, he's doing the smart, responsible gun-wielder thing-- cleaning his weapon! feel free to pester him. ]

[ in a continuation of this thread, Luke walks out of the kitchen with a mildly confused scowl on his face, looking for onwingsofflame. he's rather concerned for the kid, so he may brush you off if you run into him before he's found him. he's also muttering. ] Fuckin' bloodsuckers and their fuckin' nutjob ...whatevers...

You know, this place is more obnoxious than a New York subway station some days. Nothin' but people with things they shouldn't have. Cripes. [ this would be Luke, playing bartender. he's irritated, but feel free to come by and ask him to make you something! ]

[ it's getting dark outside, and Luke is on a bench smoking a cigarette. he's considering the cancer stick and the sunset, dully. after a while he catches himself singing-- but too quietly for anyone but himself to hear, really. feel free to interrupt him. ]

[ good morning dressing room! Luke has climbed up on top of something, possibly a ladder, and is replacing a broken lightbulb. he's also humming, softly. do feel free to bother him, but be careful of the ladder? >>; ]

[uh. not quite NSFW, but ...some questionable conversations going on here. o__o;]

[ Luke is slightly neurotic about cleanliness. particularly so personal hygiene and the cleanliness of one's bathroom/kitchen. thusly, he is standing in a spotless bathroom, brushing his teeth. his hair is wet as though he had just taken a shower, and he's clad only in a pair of torn-up jeans and a thin white wife-beater. ...it makes him look ( Read more... )

[ Luke is seated, upside-down, in a large beanbag chair. the room he's in is a cross between a small den and a large bedroom, and appears to be what he's claimed as his own. the door is slightly ajar. ...he may or may not have adult-oriented intentions for anyone that wanders in. ] ...man, it's boring here.

[ did I mention that this is going to be ( Read more... )

[ guess who found a lighter? if you answered Luke, you're correct. unfortunately, your only prize is a brooding redhead on a bench outside, his eyes closed and a handful of cigarette butts at his feet. he's currently burning through his fourth. ]

[digging around through his pockets with an irritated expression on his face and a pack of cigarettes in his teeth. he turns his pockets inside out and glares at nothing, then takes the pack out of his mouth] Hell in a hand basket, where the fuck is my lighter.

[...uh, might with the NWS-ing. o__o;]