Job: Crime Scene Investigator
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Post by Christopher Evans on Jan 28, 2015 1:20:54 GMT
Okay, so maybe he’d said he wasn’t going to change, but in the hours after work he actually decided to take a shower and do so anyway. It wasn’t like he changed into anything much nicer, just a black sweater with a gray jacket, but it still fit him better and looked slightly better than the hoodie anyway. He sighed a bit as he pulled his car into a parking space, his hand raising to ruffle through his hair briefly. He was hardly aware of the action anymore, even if it left his hair slightly mussed all the time. His was hair was pretty short, though, so it was low-maintenance anyway. He grabbed his phone from his passenger seat, briefly considering texting Atty to let him know he’d arrived, but deciding against it rather quickly. He could walk to the door and get him or something.
With that thought in mind, the door to his car would be opened, his phone would be rested in his pocket, and he would make his way upstairs to where the apartment was located. The sun had long since set, and the temperatures had lowered with it. Not that it was usually particularly cold in Georgia anyway, but it was at least slightly cooler than it had been during the day. When he reached the appropriate door, a couple of knocks would be given before he fished his phone back out of his pocket to check the time. It was about ten after, so he was basically on time.
-- Atticus Lewis
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Job: Medical Examiner’s Assistant & Med Student
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Post by Atticus Lewis on Jan 28, 2015 2:08:41 GMT
Work had been slightly more interesting with a dismembered arm to deal with, but Atticus had been distracted with thoughts of what he’d do after work. It wasn’t as though he and Chris didn’t go out drinking here and there nor was it the prospect of something more, in this case a dinner, what had him focused. In actuality, it was the boring way in which the medical examiner, Jade Alabaster, decided to “teach” that had Atticus otherwise bored.
Being just an assistant, Atticus technically wasn’t supposed to touch the hand let alone maneuver it. The “small” thing he had done before the examiner had gotten there would be considered a breach of protocol had he been caught, but to Atticus, the fact he’d gotten away with it just meant he could probably do it again and still not get caught. After Chris had left, Atticus had had the “honor” of standing around and taking notes while Jade examined the damn thing. The information was somewhat interesting, but his job of writing and cataloging was rather boring.
It would be a couple hours of intense ‘study’ of the limb before he was released to head home for the evening, but the minute he’d been allowed to, Atticus had burst out of there quickly. He’d take all the short cuts getting home, not bothering to stop and snag up some food from one street vendor or another like he might have. Though his stomach clawed at him, he willed it to silence for a bit more. After all, a might-be-a-date was supposed to bring an appetite to a meal— or at least Atticus thought so, heh.
Getting home in almost record time, he’d debated on a shower for an hour or two while briefly hitting the textbooks. A shower would in fact be taken, and he’d make himself decent enough with a simple button down shirt and slacks. However, upon stepping back into his tiny living room, Atticus would find someone had already settled there- Allen. Curled on the seat and apparently watching tv, the ghost child paused briefly to glance over at Atticus. The dark haired man’s lips pursed, and he was about to ask a question before finding the familiar dissipating and disappearing altogether before he could get words out. A small disdainful snort would be given before Atticus lowered himself to the couch and simply continued watching the show Allen had, waiting simply for knuckles to knock.
The show was some Italian soap from what Atticus could tell, but as to what anyone was saying, he had no real idea. He spoke English and only really had a handful of Latin based medical terms to really go off of further. However, the show was at least somewhat interesting and killed the time up until something hit his ears. A small snort would escape from him before Atticus would force himself up. Walking to the front door, he’d glance briefly over his shades through the peep hole to stare at Chris before opening the door, a small smirk having curled on his lips. “Well hey there,” he smirked. "What's a stranger like you doing 'round here?" A flash of teeth would be given before a short laugh.
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Job: Crime Scene Investigator
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Post by Christopher Evans on Jan 28, 2015 2:42:42 GMT
The male rocked back and forth on his feet, placing the phone back in his pocket as he waited for the door to be answered. He wasn’t exactly sure whether or not this would technically be considered a date. Usually going out to eat constituted as a date, but he and Atticus were friends on top of whatever else, so he wasn’t sure. Not that it really mattered, anyway. He had never felt the need to put a label on things, though sometimes it was nice to know. But he supposed in this case they could just have a good time and leave it at that. There was really no need to complicate things. The last thing he needed was another complication in his life.
Thankfully the door would open at that very moment and spare him from having to put anymore thought into the matter. His eyes traveled up and down the man before him, taking in his clothes. Atticus always seemed to dress more nicely than him, despite the fact that he was older and the one with money. Well, Chris had never been particularly formal anyway. He preferred more casual clothes, though the preference might have budded from having to wear uniforms throughout his entire schooling. Self-expression through clothing, piercings, or hair-color had been frowned on in private academies – not that it had stopped him from piercing his both of ears twice or covering himself in tattoos before he graduated either way.
He smirked as those words hit the hair, stepping back to allow Atticus to easily exit his apartment. “I think I might have got lost.” He admitted, frowning a bit. “See, I specifically remember the dude I was supposed to be picking up as being a lot hotter.” He went on to explain, flashing a grin at the taller male in front of him. Of course, he did actually consider Atticus to be one of the most attractive people he’d ever been with – especially as far as males were concerned. Not that they hadn’t been hot, of course, but they’d all definitely had a different look.
-- Atticus Lewis
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Job: Medical Examiner’s Assistant & Med Student
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Post by Atticus Lewis on Jan 28, 2015 3:37:22 GMT
Atticus’s smirk heightened into a sneer when Chris commented on possibly ‘getting lost’. The words spoken then had a breath-laugh escape from him thereafter. “Oh really?” he questioned stepping passed Chris as the man had moved out of the way. “Hope you’re not driving with that terrible night vision, Chris,” the dark haired man snorted giving the man a sideways glance and a wry smirk. He couldn’t and wouldn’t help the sass. Anyone who knew him well enough knew Atticus was more than just a come-back god.
Turning on his heel back to his apartment, Atticus gave a brief gaze inwards before swinging the door shut, fishing out a key, and locking it simply. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing valuable enough in his apartment to warrant a higher security than that, and if someone else found something of his ratty apartment of value, they were fucking welcome to it at the end of the day. Someday he would be financially stable enough to deal in something higher, but until then, he was a poor grad student and would deal with it.
Walking on down the way to the stairs, Atticus glanced towards Chris, offering a small smirk. “Ya want me to drive?” he asked snidely a small grin on his features. It was a tease, and it was pretty obvious, but Atticus wouldn’t mind driving if asked. He knew how, after all, and had been driving for a lot longer than most people his age anyways.
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Job: Crime Scene Investigator
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Post by Christopher Evans on Jan 28, 2015 4:02:37 GMT
Chris had obviously expected Atticus to retort. In fact, if the other man hadn’t retorted, he would have assumed something was terribly wrong. It was just in his nature, it was one of the easiest parts of him to figure out. And Chris liked it, of course. When the quip was given, he threw his head back and allowed a short bark of a laugh to escape. “I’ve heard vision goes as you age, but I think your opinion of yourself might be just slightly too high.” He smirked, watching as the door to the apartment was closed and locked.
Thereafter he would turn fluidly, following the other man as they made their way to the stairs. The snide comment would be met with a sneer and a roll of his eyes. “I dunno, do you think you’ll be able to stop looking in the mirrors long enough to actually drive?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows a bit. It was all in good humor, of course. Confidence was good, it was attractive, but it was also easy to make fun of. Though as far as he could tell, unlike himself, Atticus’s confidence wasn’t feigned in the slightest.
Either way, his keys would be fished from his pocket and offered to the younger man. Chris didn’t mind driving, truthfully, but if someone else was willing he took a break when he could. He was constantly having to drive his mother places, and tended to be in a car more often than not. Besides, maybe Atticus would enjoy driving his car. The insurance would cover any mishaps, after all. And anyway, Atticus didn't need to waste the gas in his own car either.
-- Atticus Lewis
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Job: Medical Examiner’s Assistant & Med Student
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Post by Atticus Lewis on Jan 28, 2015 4:21:00 GMT
As Chris laughed, a snort had escaped from Atticus before a cheeky look drew upon his features at the comment that followed. Glancing sideways, he was quiet for all of two seconds before glancing back. “You say somethin’? I thought I heard the wind speaking lies,” Atticus snorted. Was he vain? Maybe? Was he confident? Yes, indeed. Unlike many that bent and broke under the weight of self-consciousness, Atticus was truly self-confident. He held no inner fears, no skeleton doubts. He was a man that was first and foremost confident in himself above anything else. If perhaps it made him a little egotistical in the long run, oh well. He didn’t care enough to tone it down for others. If they didn’t like it, they could just get out of his life.
Thereafter, Atticus would start towards the stairs and fluidly down them once he’d met the case. He knew the cement steps well having had his apartment for quite some time now, and thus he didn’t hesitate or even grasp the railing as some might have. As his sneer was returned with questions, he half laughed. What he didn’t expect was the keys to be produced so shortly thereafter. Had not his shades shielded his eyes, Atticus’s gaze would have revealed his surprise. However, in under a second, he’d reached forwards and ring his index finger through the loop of them twirling them around once before grasping them. “Ya may be in for some speeding tickets,” he snorted once before turning in time with the stair case and cutting down the last few steps. “I like my cars like I like my men,” he commented, that high dry peal of lips reflecting his tone. “Fast and loud.”
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Job: Crime Scene Investigator
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Post by Christopher Evans on Jan 29, 2015 2:23:02 GMT
He never quite knew what exactly to expect from Atticus in a lot of situations, and this was one of them. Some people would be uncomfortable with driving a car as expensive as his, most people would at least express some hesitation, but with the younger man, that clearly wasn’t the case as the key was taken from his fingers with very little pause. As the comment about speeding tickets was made, he allowed another laugh to escape his lips. “Hey now, I’ll pay for a lot of things, but speeding tickets ain’t one of them.” He stated, snorting at the comment about men. “Oh really? You seem like the type who’d want a little pretty boy to fawn over you.” He teased, jumping over the last three steps rather than taking them one at a time. He landed lightly on his feet, jogging a bit to close the distance between himself and Atticus. Thereafter he would hip-bump the raven-haired male, though he would purposefully press his entire body against him with the motion before moving past him.
He turned around thereafter, walking backwards in the general direction of his car. “Ya still wanna go to O’Charley’s, or did ya have somewhere else in mind?” He questioned. There were several other restaurants that were within that price range, but served slightly different food. Christopher didn’t go out to eat often, so he didn’t really care where they went, but Atticus might. He looked over his shoulder briefly, coming to a stop mere inches from the passenger door of his car.
-- Atticus Lewis
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Job: Medical Examiner’s Assistant & Med Student
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Post by Atticus Lewis on Jan 29, 2015 3:38:16 GMT
A small sneer gripped Atticus as Chris insisted he wouldn’t be the one paying for speeding tickets. Damn, and here he had expected it would all be taken care of! Hah, oh well. Maybe he’d keep his speeds down then. Still driving an expensive car sounded exhilarating in itself, and Atty relished it. What could he say? He liked nice things, nice stuff. While he wouldn’t steal from someone, he wouldn’t mind convincing the hell out of someone to let him at least try something. Hey, his company in itself was worth a couple hundred bucks or so Atticus felt.
As Chris commented on his ‘type’, Atticus’s lips peeled into a cheeky expression. “Yeah?” the midnight haired man asked cocking his head to one side. A small snorted laugh escaped from him for a moment thereafter as he decided not to comment. In truth, Atticus had happened to like a specific type of man for far too long to say it was just a fad. He wouldn’t admit that to Chris then and there, however. Instead, he’d switch gears now with keys in hand and start towards the car. He’d been about to reach up and pull his shades from over his eyes when that body pushed up against his own. Taking a step sideways, Atticus glanced at Chris before smirking widely hip bumping him back briefly. “Think my type’s right here,” he snorted under his breath before smirking dryly to himself.
Watching Chris walk backwards, Atticus thumbed his pockets and walked as well. The question that came there had him smirking more. “Think Charley’s is still ah-go,” he replied simply. Changing his step slightly to walk around the car as Chris stopped at the passenger’s side. Atty fished the keys forwards easily unlocking the door and Chris’s before throwing himself inside. With surprising ease, Atticus put the keys in the ignition and started the car. Adjusting the seat and the rearview mirror, he sat back briefly pealing his shades off finally and folding them neatly onto his dress shirt. Though he liked them and could walk decently with them at night, Atticus didn’t trust himself to drive a foreign car with them. Closing the driver door finally, he glanced briefly at Chris a small smirk on his features. “Not a bad ride,” he half snorted before starting the backing up process and then starting to drive with surprising ease.
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Job: Crime Scene Investigator
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Post by Christopher Evans on Feb 16, 2015 20:20:04 GMT
The snorted words under the younger man’s breath would be completely missed as Christopher walked backwards. Well, perhaps not completely. He was aware that Atticus had said something, but he didn’t know what, nor would he ask. If the other man wanted him to know, he would have said it loudly enough for him to hear. He was certain of that. As he came to a stop at the car, he would lean against it slightly and watch Atticus walk around it. Truthfully speaking, he wouldn’t actually blame the other man for speeding. And yeah, he might feel compelled to pay for the ticket, but he was more worried about the damage a high speed accident could do to the both of them. What could he say? Four years ago or so he would have made fun of Atticus for not speeding, but he’d matured a lot since then.
He simply nodded to the answer and as the doors were unlocked, his was pulled open easily as he dropped into the seat. He leaned it back slightly, pulling the seatbelt over his shoulder before he settled in fully. Golden eyes would turn to watch as the raven-haired man set everything up to drive. The seat and mirrors were adjusted, those shades were placed off to the side. Thereafter Chris leaned his head back against the headrest, his torso arched as his back gave an easy pop.
He smirked at those words, considering the other man out of the corner of his eye. “I got some more at my mom’s house. I’d keep em at my place, but ya only get one parking spot ‘n stuff.” He shrugged a bit. Chris liked cars, he always had. He had a couple of motorcycles too, and he was actually breaking the rules of his apartment to keep his sister’s there, but he kept all of that to himself as his eyes flickered between Atticus and looking forward. He smirked as he inwardly decided the man next to him was a much better view than whatever was outside the window.
-- Atticus Lewis
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Job: Medical Examiner’s Assistant & Med Student
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Post by Atticus Lewis on Feb 18, 2015 5:45:02 GMT
Atticus couldn’t imagine shelving out the bills the car must have cost let alone repeatedly for however many cars Christopher happened to have. Though his family was roughly upper middle class, he still knew the value of a buck or a hundred. As it was, even with school paid, he lived modestly, making sure he never accrued a debt he couldn’t pay off in a month. He liked things as they were. He liked having his own place and his own car. There was no way he was going to sacrifice the personal freedom of his own place for impulses. Atticus didn’t live that way- much to a few people’s surprise. That didn’t mean, of course, that he didn’t like leaning on some people’s fast cars for extra pluses. The current car was smooth as silk, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. “You’ll have to let me drive the other ones,” he smirked after a moment, briefly glancing sideways to meet Chris’s gaze before glancing forwards again.
The accelerator would be pressed, and the car sped through town towards Georgetown where O’Charley’s lay. The rush of landscape that would pass was rather uninteresting to Atty. He had seen it time and time again during multiple times of the day and in all manner of seasons. He preferred the city wherein there was a sense of progress there. Something was always being torn down or rebuilt in busy Summer City, but it seemed so much quieter in Georgetown. A little uninteresting small talk was thrown about as he drove, Atty keeping most of his attention on the road for obvious reasons. Soon enough, he’d be pulling up into the parking lot of the restaurant, slowing as he considered parking. Rather than fight the front wherein an asshole had decided to take up two lanes, he parked further to the back before fluidly getting out and stretching slowly.
“Don’t think I’ll be the designated driver back,” Atticus grinned towards Chris setting his hands in his pockets and starting up towards the restaurant with a slow but easy pace.
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Job: Crime Scene Investigator
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Post by Christopher Evans on Mar 9, 2015 20:41:37 GMT
As the comment on driving his other cars came up, Chris smirked and nodded. Atticus was free to drive anything of his, use anything of his, he didn’t really care. Material items could be replaced easily enough as long as the younger man didn’t physically injure himself in the vehicles. Yeah, that would be fun to live with. But he knew that Atty wouldn’t, at least not purposefully. Accidents happened, of course, but he didn’t get too much of a reckless vibe from the other man. At the very least, he knew that the raven-haired male wasn’t stupid. He settled into his seat, returning the small talk easily. The scenery might have been slightly more interesting to him than Atticus since he hadn’t lived here for quite as long, but he was pretty used to it anyway.
The drive to the restaurant didn’t take very long, and after the car was parked the older man would step out and stretch his hands over his head. His door was shut thereafter, and he followed after Atticus, easily catching up to that slow pace and falling into step beside him. “I didn’t sign up to take care of your drunk ass all night.” He stated, snerking before a good-natured laugh fell from his lips. “Not ‘nless I get something from the deal.” He smirked a bit wider, pushing his hands into his pockets as they walked. Really, he didn’t mind taking care of Atticus. He’d taken care of plenty of drunk people in his days.
-- Atticus Lewis
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Job: Medical Examiner’s Assistant & Med Student
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Post by Atticus Lewis on Apr 6, 2015 19:37:02 GMT
A small snorted chuckle resounded in the air in response to the words posed to him. Atticus couldn’t hold back the snide expression that gripped his features as Chris mentioned getting something from ‘the deal’. Stepping sideways in one fluid motion, he made to hip bump Chris hard. Smaller men would probably have fallen over from the sheer force applied, but Christopher wasn’t a small man. “You want something?” he asked teasingly, the grin on his face reminiscent of a feral beast more than human. “I wouldn’t mind you comin’ ‘n getting something,” he laughed simply before clasping the door now in front of him. In a smoother procession, Atticus pulled back the door, holding it open for Chris and offering an (almost) apologetic smile.
It didn’t hold for long. The minute Chris entered, Atticus stepped inside and allowed his features to dry once more. Glancing around the simple restaurant of sorts, Atticus rested his hands in his pockets. He wouldn’t mind sitting at the bar, but the booths tended to be just as good and had better backing. “How ‘bout we sit over there,” he gestured off towards a window booth with a mild nonchalance. If Chris wanted to sit elsewhere, it wasn’t a problem for him, after all, heh.
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