James Weatherby XIV (night_rhythm) wrote in st_margarets, @ 2016-01-12 21:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: james weatherby, character: thierry gravois, location: around town, location: school grounds |
Thread: Prince And The Pauper
WHO: Thierry and James
WHEN: Soon after this
WHERE: School grounds, around town
James had worn his oldest clothes, preparing for the worst. The pants were still custom tailored and in current season's style, and they had only been worn once before, but they were the best he had for the occasion of hopping inside a dirty truck for a ride into town. He considered bringing a clean blanket to sit on, but that may be pushing it.
He could do this. James coaxed himself to cross the courtyard and make his way to the parking lot. The Salvatore's made a smart clip on the pavement. His own personal vehicle, the white Audi R8 that had been traded up to the latest model over Christmas break, beckoned to him. He was forced to ignore her real leather interior and custom details in lieu of walking the extra steps towards the old pickup truck where Thierry was waiting.
The werewolf boy was kind at heart, but had yet to show any signs of intellect up there in that rat nest he wore and called hair on his head. The accent alone was one thing and had already painted a rather sad picture of Thierry in James' mind, but Thierry just wasn't interesting enough to show up on James' radar. Until now. Now that he needed the were vote for the upcoming elections.
James pulled his red scarf in a more secure loop around his neck and tucked the ends into his gray peacoat. It wasn't as if the scarf would protect him from this ride, and it wasn't as if he could strangle himself with it to escape ― a surprisingly morbid thought for such a bright afternoon ― but it was something to do to hide his distaste and protect his sensitive undead skin from the sun.
Stopping on the curb beside the truck, James refrained from removing the black framed Burberry sunglasses from his face, but still gave Thierry a smile. "Bonjour," James greeted in clearly pronounced French. His French tutors had at least had the decency of teaching him how to not talk like a backwoods Cajun. And, to keep Thierry from responding in French and being offensive to that beautiful language, James switched to English. "I'm ready to go, if you are. But are you sure you'd rather not have us take my car?" James gestured to the white coupe with a black gloved hand. "I'd even let you drive." It was his last ditch effort to get out of riding in the redneck mobile.