[Talking to the fury] Waiting for the smoke...

[hank_callahan]

Hank finished typing out the comment on her laptop before shutting it and setting it on her bed. Clambering to her feet, she grabbed a scrunchie to pull her hair back from her face as she padded barefoot out of her room and headed downstairs to make a beeline for the kitchen. She'd been around when Bee's squeeze had arrived, but really hadn't

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[elementof_risk]

Sark turned at her voice, studying the girl for a moment, before giving her his own half smile that wasn't, really. He had no experience with girls her age at all, and none of his usual way of dealing with people was going to suffice, but she cared about Baileigh, and part of being here was getting to know the people in her life. He might've preferred a more secluded vacation with just them, but that wasn't possible, so.

He'd done a reasonable exploration of the kitchen when he arrived, and so knew where to snag a glass for the scotch. "I can't say I'm really a scotch connoisseur, so we may have to take Duquette's word for its quality," he told her, setting the glass down on the counter and giving her a more real smile than the half assessing look of before.

[hank_callahan]

Hank raised an eyebrow at his admission, taking note of the fact that he was giving her a once-over. "Dude, you're like...the Continental or some shit, and you don't know scotch?" she grunted, ambling over to plop down in a seat at the kitchen table. "That's fuckin' lame, yo."

She paused, then rolled her eyes with the barest hint of a smirk. "G'head, hot shot...take stock of the girlchild, you know you wanna. 'Bout the biggest threat I am to you is a complete pain in yer ass. But so's every other girl my age that's living in this fucking house."

[elementof_risk]

"I may not know scotch, but I know wine which, really, is far more varied. It was just straight whiskey where I grew up, and so long as it was brewed somewhere local, everyone was happy," he retorted.

He poured a glass, though, then moved to sit across from her, still sort of studying her, though his smirk acknowledged the hit. Of course, the girl-children in this house were a bit more of a threat than most, all things considered. All the fighting skills at his disposal couldn't match the super strength and reflexes bit. "How old are you?"

[hank_callahan]

"Wine? That's snooty shit." she replied with a roll of her eyes. Though it made sense he'd drink crap like that...no two buck chuck for his hoity-toity little pallet...

Still, she couldn't blame him. Judge not, and all that bullshit Dad was always feeding her. Shrugging, she sat back in her chair and propped her feet up on the edge of the table, absently crossing and uncrossing her toes.

When he asked about her age, she narrowed her eyes just slightly, giving him an assessing look of her own. "Sixteen and a half...what, you wanna make something of it?" she challenged without any real conviction.