Time Warp: Vending Violence(open)

[Deleted]

December 2011

So....this place didn't suck too bad. But Oriel still wasn't completely convinced. It was just too nice a place, too nice an atmosphere for him to really be comfortable living in it. He still hadn't properly used his bed, instead opting to curl up in the closet, in the corner, or under the bed - he was still small enough to fit under there without much squeezing. He still hated being inside his room, yet hated being outside around these...people even more. The best place for the 14-year-old boy to hang out was outside, but it was cold and snowy out there...which Oriel honestly didn't mind but he felt bad for sleeping outside like a bum on a bench when he could obviously use his own room and be warm and safe and not risk freezing to death. The fact that it was so obvious for him to use, to actually use these nice things that he didn't deserve only made it harder.

He was even hesitant to use the allowance he got on a monthly basis for any reason whatsoever. So far, he'd been blowing it all on movies and food. Maybe he went to the thrift store once or twice to get some clothes. But Oriel was finding it harder and harder to venture down into town for any reason at all. He had no friends down there, he didn't even know the area a fraction as well as he did the entirety of NYC, and.....fuck he just wanted to go home, but Oriel didn't even know where that was anymore or if it ever existed in the first place. His former foster house certainly wasn't it. Clearly it hadn't been with the tattoo guy. And it definitely wasn't here.

The lanky boy pulled out a crumpled dollar from his jeans that felt too wrong because they actually fit his waist and stalked through the first floor lounge of the dorms to the vending machines wearing the most offensive scowl he could muster to hopefully keep back any idiot who decided they had a death wish. Oriel straightened the bill and fed it into the machine, pressing the buttons for what he had his eye on. A treasure with the taste of the heavens. The metal spiral turned and he held back the urge to bounce in anticipation.....until it stopped with the apple danish not even halfway out of the trap.

Oriel stared at it for a moment or two, completely bewildered at the offense that this...this stupid machine had made against him.

He kicked it.

He kicked it again.

He slapped his palm against the glass.

Nope...still wasn't enough.

It wasn't long before Oriel finally unleashed an all-out blitzkrieg against the thieving vending machine, beating it with his fists, trying to shake it down, and kicking it until it finally decided to give up the danish....or until he wore himself out.

[Takchawee Ominotago]

Tak had been at Hammel for a couple of years already - about two and a half, in fact. The sixteen-year-old was aware, then, of when new people arrived. She wasn't particularly social and didn't really go out of her way to meet people in large social settings, but she got around, slowly making a reputation for herself that many frowned upon, even taunted her for. She didn't care; they weren't worth her time. Tak didn't have a particularly large group of friends, mostly just the occasional lover and acquaintance to share a smoke with or draw henna all over on. She was a free spirit - drifting from one place to the next, keeping an open mind, taking opportunities when they came to her, but all around giving an air of no fucks given.

Having no work to do and nothing better to spend her time, the teenager drifted down to the first floor from her room, thinking about settling down in front of the television and just... Relaxing. If there was already someone there, so be it - even if she didn't go out of her way to meet people, she wasn't against random circumstances.

Before she even got to the bottom of the stairs, though, some very angry-sounding thuds caught her attention, and as she stepped lightly onto the floor, she tilted her head to peer at a young boy pounding away at a vending machine like it'd caused him some major offence. Curiosity perked, Tak drifted over. Her long, dark hair was left loose and natural drifting down her back, leaving her front clear to see - which was the point, considering she was wearing a rather short crop-top that gave a very easy view of her narrow, toned stomach. Her legs, at least, were covered, but her leggings showed off so much shape that she might as well not have. Winter? What was that?

"You're an angry guy, aren't you?" she asked upon approach, eyeing the situation critically. "I don't think hitting it will help. It's not like it has feelings." She studied his face a little longer - Tak didn't recognize him. He had nice features, if a little young. She cocked her head to the side. "You new?" she asked. Her extrasensory perception was hitting her with vague information, but she ignored it - her ability was more of an annoyance than helpful now.

[Deleted]

The vending machine did cause him a major offense and Oriel wasn't going to let it get away with it. But his hands were starting to hurt and his stamina was starting to fade. This thing was tougher than the old Cuban guy. The only difference is, Oriel probably couldn't climb this one as easy nor bite into it without injury to himself. He gave the thing one final kick before his attention was diverted by a pretty little voice that he was more than willing to verbally abuse.

"The fuck you want, sweet-tart," he snapped at the girl who was so scantily dressed for the middle of winter. Didn't matter to him, if she wanted to freeze her gut off, she was free to do so. At least she was something nice to look at. "Why? You a ho?" Oriel continued to strike her with hostility while not answering her questions. "'Cause this piece o' shit ate my last dollar. Go solicit your tits elsewhere."

[Takchawee Ominotago]

Man, he really was going at it. It didn't take Tak's ability to know what this guy screamed. Bad fucking temper. She would have to be wary, but she wouldn't let that dissuade her. She'd dealt with pretty bad people before; Tak was good at keeping her emotions in check.

She smirked at his first comment; what else had she expected? "Nothing in particular, was just seeing what all the ruckus was about," she replied evenly, crossing her arms behind herself as she rose up onto the balls of her feet and rolled back down. You a ho? Tak snorted, shaking her head; wasn't the first time she'd been asked that. "I don't think the people that work here would appreciate prostitution among the students," she replied, taking a few slow, careful steps closer. "I don't make people pay, at least." Didn't mean she wasn't promiscuous. Her gaze turned to the offending vending machine, clucking sympathetically and ignoring his hostility. "The machines here can be a bitch. Shaking it isn't going to do anything." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I might give you another dollar to try again... If you're nice." The corner of her lip twitched up.

[Deleted]

Mr. Temperamental Anger Management Boy. Yup, this would not be the first time he'd come across as that type of person. But since coming to Hammel, his tendency to snap into a fit like a 5 year old was happing more and more frequently. Just, nothing seemed to be going his way ever. He hated it here! He hated the people! He hated the fact that it was too nice for him and he definitely didn't deserve it. Oriel should've just stayed on the streets with the hobos and hookers. Where he belonged.

Surely that's what other people thought of him.

Oriel had to admit, though. This chick was hot. Not just nice to look at. And had a nonchalant confidence about her that reminded Oriel of some of the girls he'd hook up with back in NYC. It was enough to get him to switch from rage-mode to sex-mode, and he smiled.

The boy straightened himself, rolling a bare shoulder back and stuffing a hand into the pocket of his jeans. While he himself as scantily dressed in just a white tank, it had nowhere near the same effect as this chick's did, he noticed now that he had the chance to look her up and down. "So…what you're saying is…I'm up for something nice…if I'm nice…?" Oriel slowly stepped up to the short girl, doing nothing to hide the aim of his gaze, panning from down to her stockinged toes to her plush hips to her waist, bust, shoulders until they finally met up with her eyes again. He slowly, silently reached out to trail a finger through her long, silky black hair, pulling a lock forward to fall down her collar. Oriel peered down, catching a look through the top of her cropped shirt, smiling at the view.

Oriel snorted softly, his lecherous smile never waning. "'Course, I already got "something nice" up, if you know what I mean. Now…" He flicked his eyes down and up once more. "You say you got a dollar….you gonna pass it over or do I got to go looking for it?"

[Takchawee Ominotago]

Tak was very aware of the sudden change in behavior that Oriel displayed, and her smirk widened into something more catlike and amused. Apparently he'd decided that studying Tak was more important than trying to kick and punch a danish out of the vending machine, which she was thankful for. Really, there shouldn't be much choice, right? Who would choose a silly pastry over her?

She eyed him even as he did her, trying to figure out how old he was. She assumed he was new, even if he hadn't answered her question, so he couldn't be any older than fifteen. Maybe fourteen? It was hard to tell. He was already quite good-looking, but definitely had some babyish roundness left around his face. "I guess so," she replied with a raised brow, watching where he was going with this. She stayed still as he looked her up and down, unmoving as he approached and boldly brushed her hair forward. She caught his gaze when he looked, but gave a small snort when he peeked down the front of her shirt. It wasn't like she was hiding a lot anyway. "Enjoying the view?" she said with a touch of sarcasm. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, sweetheart."

Her gaze shot down and then up in a split second, and she let out a small laugh. Well, wasn't someone needy? "I told you, you have to be nice first," she told him, shifting her hip out and resting her hand on it. "I'm... Awfully tight from working out earlier. Maybe you could give me a nice back massage?" Like he would turn that down. It was practically foreplay already. "Then we'll talk about getting you that..." she peered into the vending machine. "Whatever you were getting."

[Deleted]

"Enjoying the view?"

Oriel smirked.

Call it instinct, call it his own perception, but Oriel knew a slut when he saw one. Anybody who dressed like that and smiled like being leered at was a normal, everyday thing had to be one. Her body language certainly said she didn't mind it. Didn't even flinch when Oriel touched her. "I ain't ahead of nothing, Spicaña," he said tracing his finger over her shoulder. "Just taking the scenic route."

She was shorter, but definitely older. That composure about her could only be that of one who was experienced. His grin widened into an expectant grin. "I am being nice," he insisted.

But clearly she had other ideas of how 'nice' he could be. If this pint-sized temptress was laying a trap, then Oriel was definitely falling for it with all his might.

Oriel peered back at the vending machine. Well, shit, with this beautiful, tasty treat in front of him, he almost forgot about the beautiful tasty treat behind him. "I'm gonna hold you to that." Literally, if he was lucky enough. Like a gentleman, Oriel gestured to the couch that sat in the middle of the common room. No shame about "massaging" her essentially in public. That just made it hotter.

[Takchawee Ominotago]

As promiscuous as Tak was... She wasn't above some teasing and playing hard(ish) to get. She would let Oriel do what he wanted, but... Not without a game first. It was no fun if there wasn't a chase, right? "Uh-huh," she replied, squinting a little at the nickname. "Is that supposed to mean something? 'Cause I don't get it." Whatever, he was being smooth, Tak had to appreciate that. She followed the trail his finger created over her shoulder. "Just watch where you put that hand, hun," she smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Was she really gonna let someone younger than her do... Whatever would happen to her? ... Probably. He was definitely taller, and had the air of someone older, it was mostly his appearance that gave him away. And, along with the touches he was giving her, Tak was receiving some more vague information that was very intriguing. Street smart. New York City. Ink... "Do I want to even know what you're like when you're mean, then?" she replied, raising a brow. "You better not turn into the Hulk when you get me in your bed."

"Whatever you say, love," Tak hummed, waving a hand. She hadn't expected him to be so open about this in a public place; his gesture made her smile. Apparently she wasn't the only one that had no shame. She stretched her arms above her head, barely keeping things hidden, as she sauntered over to the couch, settling down on her stomach with her chest draped over a plushy pillow. "Remember what I said about wandering hands," she warned with a wink. She reached back and pulled her hair forward over her shoulder, giving Oriel full access to her already half-bare back, smooth and flawless and lightly tan. "What's your name, anyway?"

[Deleted]

Oriel snickered to himself, a devilish and condescending gesture, but not without his own twisted idea of flirtation.  "If you don't get it, then I ain't gonna 'splain it to you."  Maybe she was too dense to get the hybrid of words?  Despite growing up in such a large so-called "melting pot" like New York, there was an intense degree of segregation that occurred naturally among the communities.  Unfortunately it had made Oriel very aware and likely to comment on a person's assumed heritage.  He wouldn't have known how to tell the difference between some, however, which was why he incorrectly slurred this petite, olive skinned woman. 

It didn't matter in the long run. Oriel had no heritage himself, so maybe that was why he was so quick to quip at someone else's.  Guess that's what happens when your parents utterly abandon you and leave no hints or clues to your origin.  And no, he was not bitter about it!

Oriel snorted.  "Whatever you say, chica," he said with a shrug, pulling his hands back and holding them up. Though once again he had mismatched his pet name for her. 

Sticking out a tongue, Oriel shrugged up a shoulder and tiled his head, letting his bangs fall into his face.  "Only if you think you can take it.  Though I ain't as rough as I look, I promise."  After all, hitting girls was just low, even for a temperamental fuck like Oriel.  He especially didn't treat 'em like he did that vending machine back there.

Of course he had no qualms about doing anything here. It was just a massage. And despite how sexual he came off as, he actually knew how to touch without evoking those intentions. Oriel sat down next to her and leaned forward, placing his large hands over her petite shoulders. "Trust me, I don't need to touch you to get you wet." Oh, yes, he had that much confidence in himself. He was silent for a moment as he kneaded her shoulders and neck, slightly digging his thumbs into the muscle for more pointed pressure. "…Oriel," he replied. Another moment and he returned the question. "You got a name?"

[Takchawee Ominotago]

Oooh, Tak didn't like that laugh at all. Her eyes flared up, her lips quirking down unamusedly as her arms crossed. Unlike him, she'd grown up in a singularly raced community, and knew little about the mixing of different cultures until she had come to Hammel. Even now, it was still strange. So she stayed quiet about his quip, but she made it clear she didn't appreciate his mocking tone with a narrow-eyed glare.

"Chica?" she repeated, then let out her own mocking laugh; she understood that one, at least. "I'm not Hispanic, sweetheart. It's not polite to make assumptions." Tak wasn't mad, but she wanted to make sure he knew that her culture was very important to her, and she didn't take jabs at it lightly. If he pushed further, she might snap at him, and she really didn't want that.

She relaxed as the subject changed, her features relaxing and her arms dropping down to her sides once again. "I'm sure I've handled worse," she assured him with a small, toothy smile. "You can't be any worse than my first." Nope, she'd had it rough from the start, so it's what she was used to, even. She was confident she could take whatever came her way.

The couch was awfully soft and welcoming underneath her, and Tak only then realized that she was a bit drowsy. Still, she didn't say anything about it, only let out a soft hum as he began kneading her tight muscles. She did have to laugh at what he was saying, though. Wow, was this kid seriously that conceited? "I'd like to see you try that," she challenged. Maybe some other time. Tak let her head relax on the pillow, her eyes drifting half-closed as she enjoyed the massage. "Mmm... Nice to meet you, Oriel," she said politely. When he asked the question back, she smirked and replied,"Takchawee Ominotago. Tak works." Most people found her full name much to hard to remember, let alone say.

[Deleted]

Oriel would not have stopped, not unless she either said something or revealed her name. But having done the former rather early, the latter was no longer necessary when it came. Oriel ceased his laughter and looked the girl over, taking note of her unamused eyes. A slight smile formed. "My mistake," he relented.

He had nothing against people who held their heritage in high esteem. Despite his insults and jabs at that subject, Oriel liked to think that he wasn't a racist. He treated everyone with an equal amount of hate. To him, and how he observed it, was that that particular trait came with holding a particular group in higher esteem while bashing others. Oriel, on the other hand, thought they all sucked.

Oriel snickered again, this time with an air of conceit. "Well, I'd like to challenge myself, then, to be your best." There was nothing wrong with knowing where you excelled and making sure others did too. Just make sure nobody knew where you actually fell short and you were golden.

"You won't be disappointed," he assured her as worked over her shoulders and started down to her shoulder blades.

Finally, at last he had a name. But what a name! Oriel's eyebrows furrowed up as he tried the syllables over his tongue. "Tak-acha-cha-wee Onamonapia?" he tried, getting it completely wrong. "Tak," he finalized.

[Takchawee Ominotago]

Tak's tight expression relaxed a little when Oriel apologized; she knew she was touchy about her heritage, but it was one of the only things she really cared about, and she protected it fiercely. "You always so quick to label, hun?" she asked, though her voice had lost its sharpness and was now more of an actual question than anything else. "Because that's not the best way to make friends." Oh, if only she knew...

"Try your best," she replied with a challenging smirk. She had no idea if he was all bark no bite, or if he really meant what he said, but she was curious to find out. If he was lying, she could laugh at him; if he wasn't, she would enjoy herself. It was a win-win situation, really.

"Mmm... Whatever you say." The massage, at least, felt wonderful. If nothing else happened, at least she got that much. There were few things she liked more than lounging around and being warm and comfortable; the company was an added bonus.

She peeked back at him with half-closed lids as he tried to repeat her name, and laughed throatily at his attempt. "Nice try. I've heard worse." Some people responded with correct racial slurs. With each knead of his fingers, Tak learned just a little bit more, though everything about him was vague and confusing. She really needed to work on her training more... "So, you're from New York?" she asked out of the blue. Since he hadn't told her, she expected a surprised response.

[Deleted]

"Hmph, who said I wanted friends?" Oriel countered. Though it wasn't an entirely truthful statement. He did want friends. But if people couldn't handle at least that much from him, then they probably didn't deserve his friendship anyway. Either too touchy or wussy or didn't know how to engage in a decent banter battle. Comments like that were commonplace in his circles at home. You could tell how close of friends people were based on how much they insulted each other. So you had to at least be able to take a few blows.

Oriel talked himself up, but he had the experience and skills to back up his claims. And if she really wanted him to bite…well, that could be arranged.

Oriel snorted, amused with this girl. This woman. She may have been getting a fine massage, but Oriel wasn't leaving empty handed either. Rubbing down a woman, even without the gropes, being able to feel her softness, curving his hand over her figure, was a fine enough time for him. While he was hoping for something more, he could live without it and wait until next time.

"Really? How worse?" Oriel could say he had a tongue on him, might be able to pick up a language or two(hell, he'd picked up a little from the Latin communities in NYC) but even Tak's name was a stretch for him. There was a hesitation in Oriel's kneading when her question came, but it continued soon after. "What gave me away? The way I talk or you some sort of psychic?"

[Takchawee Ominotago]

Tak tilted her head and studied Oriel, pondering this rhetorical question. "What, you don't want us to be friends?" she responded with a playful pout. "Oh, now that just hurts my feelings." Of course, she was teasing a little - but, she did like to think that she could at least be on good terms with most people, and Oriel was a very interesting puzzle she wanted to piece together, bit by bit.

Her toes curled up pleasantly as he continued to caress her skin in his large, strong hands, and a content hum escaped her lips, a soft, lilting sound that communicated her appreciation of his actions. "I might have to hire you as my personal masseur," she told him, peeking over her shoulder with a smirk. "Think you could handle that?"

She rolled her eyes at the questions, thinking back to all of the terms and names she'd heard over the years. "Let's just say, 'Pocahontas' and 'Sacagawea' are some of the very kindest things I've been called," she told him. It bothered her more than she let on; her face was a mask of indifference, even if she was boiling a little inside. She felt the lull in the massage after she'd asked the question, and tilted her face into the pillow, closing her eyes and letting her mind run free. "Not psychic, exactly," she mumbled, hugging her arms around the pillow. "Extrasensory perception. I... Pick up on a lot of stuff most people wouldn't. Sometimes it's random and vague, but I've been getting bits and pieces from you." Her breathing slowed as she concentrated on taking deep inhales, and let out her breath with similar speed. "You're fourteen... From New York... Mmm, there's something about ink and tattoos..." That was more vague and hard to read.

[Deleted]

Her teasing response brought out a playful snicker. "I ain't interested in being friends…but I am interested in other things." From how the conversation had been going, it was pretty clear what he would he happy with from her. And she seemed to be pretty willing to give it…though not without a chase it seemed.

Giving her the rub-down, seeing how she twitched and tensed and relaxed was enticing. Oriel could swear she was doing this on purpose. This Tak was clearly an experienced….woman. "I think I can handle you just fine."

Okay, so the racial comments were off-limits for this one. Oriel made sure to take note of that. He could've done a lot better than those at least. But if even those were going to get her, then Oriel was going to have to watch himself around her.

He continued his kneading while she spoke of her ability. Oriel had said it again, just assumed psychic, but he remembered what that Dr. Campbell said before, there were different kind of psychic-like abilities and not all of them worked the same. He heard that old guy Dr. Neville was a telepath. This girl Tak apparently had extrasensory perception….like an enhanced intuition, he guessed. "'Spretty good. You're spot on." He sniggered, wondering if he should going into more detail. "….The ink bit is 'bout my power or whatever it was that landed me here. Some sort of ink manip or manifest or something, I don't really get it." And that was probably about as far as he went on the matter…unless she really wanted to press the matter.