Warren Peace

Sat, 23 Mar 2013 23:41:08 GMT

The nightclub Heresy and the pub The White Hart was like night and day. Whereas Heresy was a loud, packed, pulsating jumble of beating music and intoxicated and horny people, The White Hart was far more relaxed and actually spacious for being a corner pub, frequented largely by regulars who just wanted to drink their beer and talk to people.

Tonight was a slow night. So far all he and May - the other bouncer on duty for the evening - had only had to show one overly intoxicated gentleman to the door and call him a cab, and he'd gone on his way willingly. Other than that they just walked their rounds, keeping watchful eyes over the place and it's patrons.

Taking five minutes to get some air and a look outside, Warren decided to call up his boyfriend.

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A welcome visitor - For Layla and Tristan

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 22:08:16 GMT

It was a windy and rainy day in New York, but for once Warren wasn't too annoyed at the cold. He felt the cold, absolutely, where he stood waiting at the train station. But he was too excited to really care. Because today one of his best friends were coming into town, one he hadn't seen in ages, it felt like.

The train rolled in and he rose slightly on his toes to better beer over the head of people when the passengers started to exit the train, trying to spot his hippie friend.

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V-day impulse

Fri, 15 Feb 2013 02:14:37 GMT

It had been on an impulse on his way to work. The art supplies store had been right there on his way from the subway to the pub and he'd stepped in before he even knew it.

One of the first things he realized when he'd flagged down a store clerk and explained what he was after was just how damn expensive art supplies could be. Even after he'd spent as much as he could reasonably afford without resorting to living on rice and instant noodles for the rest of the month, the set of chalk pastels he got was smaller than he would have liked. But, they were apparently hand-made ones, and the clerk swore on their high quality. Hopefully that would make up for it.

The pub he worked at during the weekdays closed far earlier than the nightclub he spent his Friday and Saturday nights at. Just after midnight he was walking to the subway again with his sights set on Brooklyn instead of the Bronx, to go see Tristan even though it was definitely possible that he'd end up waking him up.

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Jammin'

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 05:10:14 GMT

It wasn't terribly often that Warren got a chance to jam with someone else, so when the chance presented itself he took it. He had already called Morgan earlier that day, knowing that he would have most of the day free until he needed to leave for work later in the evening. While waiting for Morgan to arrive, he was simply playing on his own.

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Sun, 03 Feb 2013 22:12:41 GMT

Layla. Apology. Plans.

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Sun, 03 Feb 2013 22:10:59 GMT

With Tristan.

"Can winter be over soon? Please?"

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Thu, 31 Jan 2013 00:34:32 GMT

Three drinks with Tristan

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SSWS

Thu, 20 Dec 2012 14:15:23 GMT

"The next round is on me."

Black eye. Split lip. Not happy.

Strumming out a melody. "It's alright..."

Holiday talk with Tristan.

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Late-night visitor, for ecstaticmagic

Wed, 19 Dec 2012 23:30:39 GMT

It had been another one of those nights, one of the ones that made Warren wondering why he was still insisting on working as a bouncer. As with every year it seemed that the holiday season was bringing out the crazy in people. To make it even worse, he had been working the door this evening, which meant long hours out in the cold. That meant a grumpy Warren, though he had kept his temper in check for the most part. When he hadn't quite managed, well... Then there had been a great deal of stupid from overly intoxicated people to trigger it.

He had just gotten home - finally - and had plans on a hot shower, something to eat and to then read until he fell asleep. The later part shouldn't take long at all. His plans were interrupted, however, as he had just started to peel off his uniform when there was a knock on the door. Without the faintest clue who it could be showing up this late, and thinking it had better be important, he went to open it.

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Patch me up ((For Layla))

Mon, 10 Sep 2012 01:29:44 GMT

The spine fell into the sink with a rattle, painting an uneven red line of blood on the white porcelain on its way to the bottom. Warren was standing hunched over the sink in the bathroom, breathing heavy. He had to take a break from what he was doing, just to catch his breath.

He probably should have gone to the hospital with this, but after the events that day he had just wanted to go home. And once home, he had gingerly peeled his uniform off of himself, as carefully as he could due to the small spines that had managed to penetrate the kevlar that protected him. Some came off with the uniform, but thanks to the barbs they were equipped with a fair deal still stayed hooked into his flesh. Most of them were on his right upper arm and shoulder. A few had gotten to his chest, and one had even gotten stuck at the right side of his neck.

Not only did they hurt to pull out, but he was very sure that they were somewhat poisonous. He felt somewhat nauseous and unsteady - not not disoriented - and a rash was spreading around the spines. Maybe he should have gone to the hospital. But no, he was counting on his own high natural durability to take care of this. If he could only get those spines out, he'd be fine. Right?

Another deep breath before he let go of the edge of the sink. There were more blood smeared there, after his hands. Gritting his teeth he grabbed another of those spines and yanked it out, dropping it into the sink to join with the other five already there. Another drop of blood painted a thin crimson line down his arm. Six done, plenty to go.

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Rooftops and Alleyways

Mon, 13 Aug 2012 11:21:20 GMT

Running with Liz.

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Back on the board

Sun, 18 Mar 2012 22:35:07 GMT

Late Saturday morning. The sun was climbing high on a cloudless sky. A fair breeze came in from the ocean.

Warren was casually going along the street down to Noel's home on his skateboard. He wasn't quite sure what had inspired him to offer to help her back on the board, but he had a good feeling about this morning. There was this relaxed air hanging about, it felt like.

He got off the board at the stairs and carried it under his arm up to knock on her door.

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