Col. Jules Normandin (thisoldwolf) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-01-04 23:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-10-01, jules, nicci |
you see, it's in the blood
Who: Nicci & Jules
Where: Outside SOHS
When: Mid-morning
Jules hated being the last wolf to the party when all the interesting stuff was going down. And when he said ‘interesting’ he generally meant ‘seriously, fellas, wtf’. That wasn’t the kind of thing you went and said to people unless they were family, though, so he went looking for his own. Pretty much to say just that. Adding his own voice to the rumble of ‘is there anything I can do?’ was like telling his PTSD-addled Beta the world was a safe place: it did sweet fuck all. Okay, no. Colton, at least, would flip you off first.
“Where’s shit-for-brains?” Jules asked, gesturing at his brother’s leg and receiving a glare in response. “What? S’a term of endearment.” No harm, no foul -- or maybe Robert just didn’t like being reminded his eldest shot him.
“You find the Pack at the school under Nicci’s command,” Robert grated. “As Alpha.” Those two words gave a focus to the anger that simmered just under the surface, and Jules shifted slightly. Not a movement born out of awkwardness as much as the fact he knew his brother had something to say. Why couldn’t he say it to his wife like most other men? “She knew I was going to step in ‘til Mason came back -- she knew. Then she went and took his place anyway.” If this was going to turn into a ramble-fest where Robert felt bad for himself, Jules was of a mind to leave. Man just needed to get as drunk as possible and forget about it for a while. “What kind of daughter did I raise? And how--Why did I not see it coming?”
Shit, did he need to answer that? “‘Cause you’re the kind of guy who let’s his kids shoot him, is why.” Standing, he nodded a goodbye to his younger brother and left. Everyone was at the school. It took him until he got into the hummer that Robert hadn’t actually told him where Mason was. Bastard.
Whatever his brother had or hadn’t said, there was nobody who could say that Jules Normandin didn’t know how to make an entrance -- even if the road was blocked off with cars. Rolling his hummer up onto grass and very nearly over two members of military personnel (military, his ass; they were just walking uniforms), he stopped way before he was actually told to and hopped out. His own clothes, while far from being the full uniform the personnel wore, were still pristine despite his drive -- and his lapels bore the insignia of his rank. One of them was wonky. “Goddamn pins…” Fixing it, he turned his attention to the nearest uniform (still not military) and issued a perfunctory smile. “Would you mind telling me where the Normandin Pack is at present?” See, sometimes he really could sound like a professional. The rest of the time he didn’t want to. The uniform’s face went blank. That’d be a no. Moving on, then. Civilians were always more help. “Excuse me, ma’am?” He had no idea who the woman was and, right now, he didn’t care. He just needed an answer. “Could you tell me where the Normandins’ve set up camp? -- Over-Ah. Thank you.” And he was off.
He didn’t think he’d find Nicci looking like she’d only just walked out of her wardrobe, though. Then again, part of him was always surprised that she was so tall because in his head she was still a little thing. “Nicci--” Shit, did he bring the keys with him? Yes. Okay. Where was he? “So what the fuck is going on? Where’s Mason? … And I think your Dad’s pissed,” he added as if it were nothing. The rest, though… that was something.