Call Me Irresponsible;, TAG: LAURENT

[Marie Meyer]

It wasn't that she didn't like her. In fact, Marie liked most people. Well, she liked most people in the best stoic way she could by being indifferent toward them. Everyone had their own opinions, and if Jeanette was going to be so close-minded against loups-garoux, that was her own decision. There really wasn't a chance that Marie could actually change her mind about them, and it wasn't likely she'd tell her co-worker what she was anytime soon. Instead, Marie just sat and listened to the ignorant fears of the woman, and after work she'd go out for a drink to clear her mind of the ranting before heading home. Hell, a drink or two in and she might even text Napoleon, Gigi or Maddie to see if any of them would like to join her.

Marie wasn't normally the type to drink alone. In fact, she'd waited a few hours after work before even considering going out. She used it more as a social tool than anything else, but there were moments when the anticipation of a nice rum with chocolate coke was much more than her patience to wait for someone to join her. Now was one of those moments. Marie gave a small smile at the tender as she slid up to the bar, ordering her drink and waiting patiently as he poured the mixture and set the glass in front of her. Drinking without purpose or intent to ease a discussion by freeing the mind? "Aristophanes would kill me," she mumbled with a smirk before taking the first sip.

[Laurent Accorsi]

He was so tired. Exhausted really, Etakarina had run him ragged across the city trying to track down whatever god forsaken asshole has been killing all these wolves. Laurent just wanted to get drunk, wasted in fact. His only plan for tonight was to get so shit faced drunk that he had to stagger home, only to collapse amongst his sheets with a moan and not resurface till the next afternoon. These guys were fucked up, whoever was doing this. It was really cruel and honestly; a little terrifying. Laurent wasn’t the kind of guy to go running scared at anything but the thought of these grisly murders and the audacity of such a killer sent a cold shiver down his spine.

So he had wandered into this bar, feeling hopeless and wearing nothing but an old knit sweater and his Italian leather jacket and jeans. He was dressed plainly and felt soggy from the slight mist of rain that fell outside. The street lights had begun to come on, casting yellow and green lights across the splattered glass window panes and making everything look mildly eerie. He was watching the sky fade from a crisp cement-gray to black as he sat amongst the plush chairs drinking a beer. His sweater extended out past his wrists making his fingers look long and lanky and his jacket was slung across the back of his chair as he sat quietly watching people shuffle in and out from the rain.

In one hand he gently held a cigarette poised between his index and middle finger, letting the smoke drift up towards the ceiling and the ashes fall across the table top. In the other, he held the beer, sweat dripping down the bottle, the dark green glass shining warm in the lights of the bar. He was so tired, eyelids beginning to droop and his vision going blurry by the time she walked in. He knew her at once, or at least; smelled her at once. She was a wolf, plain and simple. The scent was so thick in his nostrils he mustered a cough as his heart pounded and he sat up. He quickly pushed his cigarette into the ashtray, and watched her cross the room to the bar.

He had seen her before, in some form or another; for some reason but he couldn’t recall her name. She was definitely unregistered, but to him what did it matter? Most of the beautiful wolves in the city went about unregistered. The thing about sex with other wolves was there was no chance of letting someone contract the disease sexually and Laurent had heard some urban rumors about such things that made him cringe.

As she ordered her drink Laurent slipped carefully beside her, as cautiously as possible. She was beautiful sure; they all were in one way or another. She with her sharp, aquiline features; her short tousled blonde hair. Etakarina with her wonderful long lashes, her smooth thin thighs. They were all prized possessions, trophies in their own rights and he respected them as such. Sure, he desired nothing more than to strip away their clothing piece by piece and gently caress their collarbone working his way down with his warm lips. Sure he wanted to satiate himself with their bodies but that was what every man wanted. He just happened to look like a reincarnation of Adonis; or at least when he wasn’t drunk he did.

He smiled quietly, turning to face her by leaning carefully on his elbow, holding his head in his palm as he eyed her meticulously, “Yeah and why is that?” He grinned at her, “You know I always preferred Sophocles, Greek comedy isn’t my thing.”

Well, he was trying a bit. Sure he couldn’t remember who the hell Aristophanes was but he knew at least who Sophocles was. He wasn’t the kind of guy to know this kind of shit, sure he’d learned it all but that was back in the days when he was still human and he sat behind his blurry senses doodling in the corner while they translated Cicero’s oration against Catiline. But she was a beautiful woman, and he knew her from somewhere; so making an effort to charm her was simply in his programming.

[Marie Meyer]

If there was such a thing as a chronic multitasker, Marie was sure she'd fit every possible symptom. If she weren't doing at least two things at once, she often felt bored or useless. It was a horrible habit really, and it caused most people to believe she was ignoring them. Of course, she never did ignore people. In fact, there was nothing more Marie enjoyed to do than to communicate, specifically listen and be the receiver of a message in hopes there would be minimum noise between her and the sender. So as she was taking a drink, Marie's mind was already running through the list of patrons she'd most likely text to come join her. Probably Gigi. She was fun to drink with and hopefully was done with her ballet for the night by this time. Her hand was already reaching for her phone when she heard a voice.

At first, she didn't think the statement was directed toward her until she heard the name Sophocles. Aside from the fact that the name almost made her cringe, Marie couldn't avoid that the man was talking to her. It wasn't a likely coincidence that someone happened to be talking about Sophocles and Greek drama right next to her after she mentioned Aristophanes. With her glass still poised at her lips, Marie turned her head slightly studying the man.

He was a loup-garou. She could smell it on him before he even came to sit next to her, which she was sure he wasn't sitting ther before. Also, he was drunk, clearly, or at least had an almost unfair headstart on her. Then again, she couldn't deny the fact that she found it highly amusing that even someone who had been drinking could still drop the name of an Ancient Greecian dramatist and sound like he knew what he was talking about. And here she thought she was the only one. For a second she considered ignoring his actual question and instead interrogate his own appreciation for Sophocles. After all, she did prefer to listen to other people talk until she found her her own words.

She gave him a small smile before taking another drink and setting her glass down. Perhaps she'd waited a while before speaking, and he was probably uncomfortable, but she wasn't about to jump into a discussion of Greek drama with just anyone, "I hate Oedipus," she answered bluntly with a cross of her legs. She really did. The only line in the entire tragedy she appreciated was the one in which Oedipus says of his mother: "I have no right to plow the fertile field from whence I came." That amused her beyond belief. "And a lot of people say that they aren't interested in Greek comedy, but then again those people don't usually realize just how perverse it is," She gave him a smile, proud of herself for pointing out that fact, "But to answer your question: despite his crude genius, Aristophanes was a known conservative man. He frowned at the idea of getting drunk to get drunk instead of drinking with a 'purpose,'" she provided air quotes with one hand, "Especially when it came to women drinking. He didn't like that, if you can tell from reading his plays."

As if she were taking a stab at Aristophanes and his unreasonably conservative moral judgements, Marie took another larger drink before setting the glass back down and resting her arms one over the other on the bar. She turned to him and smiled, "Do you often drink and discuss the Greeks like you're a member of The Symposium?"

[Laurent Accorsi]

She had a beautiful smile; Laurent decided watching her warm bright lips curve up into that particular expression he loved so much. He wasn’t really listening to what she had said, nor was he enjoying the snide looks the bartender dealt him. He sat lazily, watching her speak carefully drawing another cigarette from his pack. He blew thick heavy wisps into the air, not paying enough attention to even suck them entirely into his lungs. He felt clogged by the time she had arrived, drunk with that warm stupor that made him tired and incredibly relaxed.

She was mentioning things that made him cringe, exasperating his grade school knowledge rather quickly. For a moment he almost contemplated making a cool to his friend, Jesper knowing that boy would know quite a bit more about these topics than he would. When they had been studying Aristophanes; well when Jesper had been studying Aristophanes, Laurent had been quietly tucked away in a window loft reading The Count of Monte Cristo. He could vaguely hear her spitting some nonsense about hating Oedipus, and to be honest he hated Oedipus too. But he might a well entertain the pretense that Sophocles was his ultimate hero.

With a quiet start, Laurent returned to leaning on his elbow, pushing his cigarette into a nearby ashtray and grinning at this woman. ”Are you kidding!?” He belched enthusiastically, ”Oedipus is practically the perfect portrayal of the Greek and Roman belief of the fall of a noble from hubris. They were all about hubris, if man showed any kind of ungodly pride he were likely to be smitten down and Oedipus is the epitome of this fear.” Wow, that was strangely coherent. Laurent smiled to himself, turning to take another long sip of his liquor that had arrived just moments before. ”It’s really a perfect portrayal.”

”What do you mean perverse?” he added as an afterthought, wondering if in any way he knew what he was talking about. Maybe she could excuse him for being a little tipsy at the moment. ”You mean when they would have the satyrs with the giant phalluses run across the stage for comic relief?” That happened didn’t it? Maybe not in entire plays but definitely in tragedies for comic relief.

”Honestly darling, I haven’t studied much Greek drama. I’ve studied more Latin than anything,” he murmured after quite awhile, hoping this might excuse him from his stupidity, ”If you want me to recite Ovid for you, or Cicero’s orations I can go ahead. But Aristophanes, I don’t believe I’ve studied him.”

“And as for a purpose to drinking,” He smiled, raising his glass, ”My purpose is to get drunk.” He quickly downed the warm, amber beverage, turning to the bartender to request another and grinning at the woman. ”I am Laurent Accorsi, if you will still endure me.” He offered his hand for her to shake, trying his best to be a gentlemen; which when sober was no difficult task.

[Marie Meyer]

"I'll give you that argument," Marie mused and took another sip of her drink. He had a valid point, though she did take note that he was quite repetitive. She blamed the alcohol but hoped it wouldn't be a reoccurring problem whenever he spoke. In any regards, he knew what he was talking about no matter how much he's had to drink. She found it almost endearing that a man could be drunk and hold par in the types of conversations she had daily that tended to confuse even the most sober of people.

A grin crossed her face when he asked of the perverse nature in Greek comedy. "Well, if we want to be technically correct, that's only in tragedies, as comic relief isn't necessary in comedies," She gave a little smirk, correcting him and taking another drink before resting her arms against the bar, "There were just a lot of phallic symbols in the comedies, with the way a man held his sword, the shapes of costumes, but with Aristophanes, he used his words more for than just stage direction. He was a natural comedian in the genre that most Greeks enjoyed: Penises."

She watched him closely, waiting for some reaction. Everyone reacted differently to the word, especially when it came from her mouth. A lot of people never expected her to say some of the word she did, but if she were to be honest with herself, just calling it a penis was highly toned down for her general vocabulary. An eyebrow cocked up when he mentioned Latin drama. That was a field she had never dipped a toe in.

"What a shame," she frowned slightly, "You should look him up more. Quite a remarkable writer, so long as you study your general history of ancient Greece and know what's going on the time the play was written," She paused, looking away for a moment and down at her drink, wondering if she really wanted to take another sip just yet. It had already been brought to her attention before that she weird, different than most people in that she loved the taste of alcohol. Marie drank for the flavor and the slight buzz or drunken feeling that would eventually clog her brain was just an added bonus to something so wonderful. "So, Cicero?" she decided not to drink and looked back at him, letting a grin cross her face, "Care to woo me?"

She smiled again at the mention of his name, "Accorsi? Is that Italian?" Finally the glass was brought back up to her lips and she took part in enjoying the explosion of spiced flavor in her mouth with a tinge of coke, "It would explain the interest in Latin over Greek," Marie smirked slightly and held her hand out to shake his lightly, "I'm Marie Pons." The name rolled off her tongue with ease. It was not an entire lie, but ever since registrations began for werewolves, Marie took special care around strangers, dropping her last name and going by her middle to keep safe and avoid being found.

[Laurent Accorsi]

”Penises huh?” He grinned, taking another quiet sip of a frothing beverage he had just ordered moments before. ”That’s not something I take quite an interest in.” He chuckled, hoping she understood the stupidity of his joke.

”But,” he pushed pieces of loose hair behind his ear, and turned to look into her eyes, ”To answer your question, yes; I am Italian. Or at least, half, my mother is French.” He smiled at her, watching her carefully, her beautiful ivory skin, warm blonde hair with that natural tint that only the sun provides, her wonderful dark lashes and her moist red lips. She was beautiful, absolutely and truly so, and intelligent as well. Even in his burdened state of mind Laurent could tell she was much more intelligent than he was, even without the education he had been forced into receiving.

”Woo you with Cicero?” He laughed outright, ”More likely to be bored into sleep. I’m pretty sure that was his method of dealing with Catiline and the other conspirators. He merely just tried to bore everyone in the senate to death with a five hour long filibuster.” He sighed, thinking back to the horrid days when he had been forced into a recitation of Cicero’s speeches and court cases. They had been “fundamental” to his education. Sure they had ”Even Ovid, whom I do enjoy, is a bit of bore.”

He smiled, “Of course not when it comes to his sexual poems. Although, I haven’t read much of the Ars Amatorias I have heard they are very clever when it comes to the art of seduction, especially the art of seduction of married women.” Pausing, Laurent managed to grin mischievously. ”When I studied Ovid in school, we mostly read the Metamorphoses; you know, Apollo and Daphne. He wrote them all in Dactylic Hexameter, meaning there are six feet in every line.” Wondering if he had lost Marie, he paused to take a drink.

Laurent had genuinely surprised himself. It had been quite awhile since he had studied scansion, and he had been forced to change the subject when he knew absolutely nothing of Greek drama other than a few plays by Sophocles. So he had been forced to switch into a language he was quite knowledgeable of. However drunk, at least he had managed some form of coherency, and therefore Laurent leaned back smiling. ”neither are really wooers, either of them, you see. Like the Greeks, Romans were very outright when it came to sex. Several emperors even tried to change that, forcing Roman citizens into strict morality laws, Augustus was one of them, and of course Constantine.”

”Do I sound competent enough for you and your Aristophanes? Or shall I leave your presence? He asked with mock pride, holding hand to his forehead and making a saddened face at her.

[Marie Meyer]

Marie grinned slightly at his joke before tapping a finger to the side of her head, "Mental note take," she chimed happily before lowering her hand to pick up her glass and have another drink.

"Half and half? She nodded slightly, "That's interesting...I'm entirely French as far as I know," A quick shrug and Marie took another drink before turning to fully face this man. She was always one interested in discussions or conversations no matter who they came from. Right now, M. Accorsi was here for her entertainment.

Marie knew very, very little of Ovid. She had heard the name somewhere in her lifetime, but to actually place any works or quotes with it was impossible. So instead, she just listened intently while he spoke, explaining the greatness of Ovid's sexual poems. She smirked a little when he felt the need to explain to her what hexameter was, and didn't bother letting him know she knew what it was already. Sometimes it was fun to think you knew more than someone else. At least for Marie it was. That's how she thrived: by knowing more than those around her. Anytime someone made her feel dumb without her consent, she would get beyond angry out of embarrassment more than anything. Luckily, the one person who tended to do that to her more than anyone else was Amelia, who she did her best to avoid for many reasons.

Morality laws and emperor Constantine. Marie grinned, shaking her head slightly and taking another drink, "And then we enter a religious discussion from that point," she laughed slightly, "Perhaps it would be smart not to talk about one of the three forbidden topics over drinks."

"I can't speak on behalf of Aristophanes,"/b] she smiled, pursing her lips slightly, [b]"But I find you more than competent, especially when I consider the fact that you're this coherent when speaking, but look like you probably couldn't walk a straight line." Marie grinned, teasing him, "But such are the troubles of having a head start!"