| Depravity |
| Summary: | Lillie returns home to observe some vandalism to her property, followed by a chat with Clyde. |
| Date: | 1942-07-03 |
| Related: | None. |
| Players: |
 .. .. |
O'Cleary Residence, Higsi
Mon Jul 03, 1942
Here we have a smaller Victorian fixer-upper with good bones. Previously closed up for a couple of years, the well-secured house has avoided the ravages of neglect. The new owner has already begun to work on some of the more 'tired' corners, making this place her own.
The house, circa early 1900's, consists of a larger lower level and a half-storey. A narrow walkway meanders from the road, through a modest fence and into the yard proper. A slight stoop leads one onto a large outdoor landing with a crude-yet-stable porch swing set up at the farthest end of the step. To the rightmost side of the house, one can just barely discern a garden bed and a sturdy shed. Entering the house proper, one is met with a porch, comfortable den, kitchen with pantry, powder room and two small bedrooms. A narrow staircase ascends to reveal a smaller spare room and an attic crawlspace that is accessible via ladder.
The mustiness has long since been chased away by the smell of TLC, good cooking and something faintly floral. Cut flowers or perfume, perhaps?
Weather:
It is summer. The weather is warm and clear.
<FS3> Lillie rolls Empath: Success.
It was hard to come home to a situation such as this, early this morning. Lillie, after a stint in the Gallows to 'make sense of' what happened in her yard, elected to spend the night at Josie's. A couple of nights, in fact; the thought of whatever got into her yard returning while she was home alone was just… not what she needed to be dealing with. With the house locked up tight in hopes of whatever got into her shed not returning… enough time had passed for the Empath to come home and look at the damage to her shed.
With the sun blazing warmly upon the earth in it's final throes before dusk, the weather is far too beautiful and idyllic to match Lillie's mood at this point in time. Her bike has been propped up against the side of the shed, and the young lady herself stands anxiously in front of a door that is not only ajar, but slanted on it's rusty old hinges after being victim to what must have been a few solid kicks.
Shaking her head slowly, Lillie sorts through toppled planter pots, ancient tools that have been tossed asunder as if swept by an arm from the work bench… she's looking for some loose soil. But for what? Anxiety rolls off of her in waves, full lips pressed into a grim line. "Son of a bitch.." She utters softly.
Clyde's been working all day, as he's prone to do. And it's been just long enough that he's starting to get that itch to see Lillie. And it's not just a sexy kinda itch, although that's there too. He frowns as he tiredly walks up the road and sees her house. He's not an empath, but his other senses usually tell him when something is off. He sees her outline briefly in the doorway of the shed, but she then disappears inside. His frown deepens and he picks up his pace. When he's close enough he shuffles his feet a few steps before calling out, "Lillie. It's Clyde."
Poor Clyde.. it seems that every time he encounters Lillie, something is amiss. Be it twisters, phobic responses to wasps.. and this. Lillie is so wrapped up in this violation that her sense, attuned completely to Clyde now and able to peg him, is oblivious. No, it's swirling around her unseen; creeping into the dusty corners of the little hovel, feeding her some sort of unsettled sensation that even makes her feel nauseous. Or maybe it's something else.. something she found over to one side of the shed itself, mellowing in the sun. The reason she's looking for soil.
The shovel is no use to her now.. it lays in the grass, the old handle broken in half in a splintered mess. Lillie rubs the back of her bare neck, which has already become a touch sunburnt, hair swaying in a ponytail as she shakes her head again. Anger is present now, but it quickly dissolves when she hears a familiar voice. She will turn on a heel to face Clyde in the obvious disarray of the shed, her eyes sharp and glistening, mouth still pressed into a moue as she tries to keep her upset at bay.
"Someone's been at this.. t-this shed.." She exhales, going to him. "Broken into. They d-did some nasty things."
Clyde's nose flares as he inhales deeply, taking in whatever scents that are there as soon as he sees the mess. Anger swells too, mostly at whatever caused this, but there's some inward. She's his, he should be here protecting her. Even if he knows he can't. He keeps moving closer to take her into his arms, "Ya hurt?" The tripping over her words isn't calming him.
The Empath has the grace to feel bad, she can see the tiredness in the Alpha before her sense even surmises it. But it's the anger she feels giving rise next; this too is familiar to her. Lord knows she's been the cause of it in past occasions, though this time she draws strength from it. She cannot quite discern that which is outward in inward, but she knows Clyde well enough to reckon he would blame himself. She fits easily and snugly into his hold, pressing her face into his chest and just breathing for a minute or two. She feels rigid due to her fear, but that too settles as she leans in. "No, I'm okay.. this is my first time seeing it in the daylight." She whispers, before leaning back and looking up an him, hands on his forearms.
Lillie heaves a deep sigh and shakes her head again, looking nonetheless vibrant despite her upset. "Nothing has been taken, not really.. i-it's as if someone was looking for something in particular.." She explains. Sharp senses shall discern the smell of filth beyond that of the shed's age and the many bags of soil… like garbage mellowing in the sun. Dirty, smokey. Bad hygiene. A hobo..?
Clyde wrap his strong arms around her, despite being gross from the day's work. "…ok. I'll help ya get this cleaned up." More work! He's so good at it! His nose wrinkles again as he looks around, "Something in particular? Like from the old owners?" Why would it be in the shed and not the house then? Weird.
The Empath don't care about smell.. she smells nice enough for the both of them! A tight squeeze with lithe arms and she reluctantly lets go, stepping back proper. "You worked all day," She says gently, brow furrowed as she wipes her eyes. Can't help it, tears skitter past her nose and tremble at her chin. "The door is utterly jobbed.." Is observed next, and one cannot deny the violence in what resulted in this battered ruin. "And just outside.. I needed to get some dirt to cover, a-absorb…" What? Lillie looks the most troubled of all to be mentioning what else could have happened. "Nothing in particular.. nothing to tie this back to who lived here. This is just destruction for the sake of being nasty.. for whatever reason whoever it is, they didn't come in too far beyond the door here. Got cold feet, I figure.."
Gracefully padding out of the shed, Lillie looks worriedly at Clyde. "Look at this.." She gestures for him to follow, wiping her eyes again.
Clyde's anger gaze falls back on her and softens at that tear. He reaches up a calloused finger to brush it away and then gently takes her chin so she looks at him, "I'll fix the door." He can… prolly. But she moves to show his something so he follows her, assuming it's whatever is outside she's so upset about. Whatever needs to be absorbed.
The anger is powerful, and Lillie would be loathe to experience being it turned directly onto her for whatever reason. Sometimes it astounds her, how angry Clyde can 'feel'; the worst she had ever experienced personally was just prior to to the twister when thoughts of breaking arms were entertained. But the, there was in that alleyway… oh, man…
The undercurrent that exists in these hillfolk, it's the strongest in Clyde; carefully restrained. In his taking of Lillie he has perhaps, in turn, claimed this house and land as territory. Part of this territory has been defiled.
Still aware of where his fingers touched her to wipe the reluctant tears, Lillie leads him to that patch of grass upon which a copious.. almost inhuman glute of vomit yet bakes in the sun. It's been there a couple of days now, but for whatever reason it's still vivid and ropey as it marrs the grass. It's full of the derelict's meal prior to expelling it: what looks like salt pork, beans and some sort of meaty substance that doesn't look good the 'second' time around. It's an utterly astounding amount of puke in the grass. Lillie stares at it, pressing her palms over her eyes briefly.
Clyde's hand comes out and pulls her away, "I got this. You go…inside n' wash up." Again, there's a undercurrent of a command there. His mind is racing, but the pieces aren't connecting. "Then I'll figure out the door."
As she stands there debating what to do about this parting gift, Lillie feels herself being pulled back from the offensive mess. She holds his wrist for a moment, brow furrowed. "You didn't need this—" She is cut off in the declaration, sense and an overall affinity to discerning tone causes Lillie to look up at the Alpha plaintively. "I'm so sorry." She very nearly whispers, rubbing her neck again and seeming terribly restless. A glance to the vomit again, her lips pulling into a grimace. "Why.. all they did was break things, they hadn't even TAKEN anything.. and then to do this…!" She cries.. breathe. It's so offensive. Odd thing, though… there isn't any hint of alcohol in the baked remnants of the vomit. Whatever scent remains is as unfortunate as one can imagine, but no hints of booze.
"Clyde.." Lillie says gently, but cannot continue. His tone really warrants no argument. "Don't stay out here long."
Clyde offers a low, "Sickness can drive a man ta do things that make no sense, Lillie." He's glancing around the grounds, making sure there's no other set of eyes out there. "I'll get this, n' fix the door." and go make sure there's nothing out there. Finally those dark eyes of his move back to hers. "I'll hurry." After, that is. He was hungry and all those other emotions, but now there's now the need to protect what's his.
She looks as if she wants to speak, to nonetheless rant onwards about what this person did to her property, but Lillie's rebuttal dissolves once she meets Clyde's gaze with her own. Even as he glances around to see to it that there is nobody watching — no bad mojo, at this time… no uncouth scents other than the dusty ravaged interior of the shed and the sun-baked puke (ew). The treeline beyond the pretty white fence rustles and sighs in the hot breeze, also bearing few signs of anybody or anything watching the pair. But to look down at the vomit is to see some scuff-marks in the grass, as if the one who voided their guts stumbled heavily toward the trees. Keen eyes may yet discern a dribble of puke on the whiteness of the section of fence where he/she/it tried to climb it.
"This happened during the day." Lillie finally admits, her heart in her gaze. "I was at work. Broad daylight… I-I don't know if that's desperation.. stupidity.. or just brazenness.." She trails off. She is wearing the attire she had left the Gallows in that night, though recently washed: the fitted blue camisole, and ivory, lacy skirts that flare becomingly from her hips. How does this woman live out here, like this?
"I'll fix you something.. you look worn out."
Clyde's nose wrinkles again, unable to comment on his fears, but there's a sliver of it in him now. He may need to track this man down, just to make sure. He nods, mostly because he knows having her fix something for him will give her focus. "Do that. I'll be in." With that he turns back to the shed. He'll not be able to properly fix the door, but maybe he can board it up for now. After he covers up the puke. And does a patrol. Sigh.
Poor Clyde.. no rest. But at least Lillie will see to it that, in his time here, he gets some semblance of reparations for his efforts! As she pivots to make her way toward the house, grabbing up the handlebars of her bike as she goes, she fields that sliver of fear. While she respects that yes, even Clyde can feel fear, the notion of him feeling the barest hint of it… unnerves her. Lillie's gait slows, and she wonders if she should be in touch with the Sheriff… somehow she just doesn't want the attention. Her green eyes look at her homestead and she notes, briefly… nothing else has happened. The fiend hadn't returned.
With the Empath having departed, the mess is left for Clyde to observe. The door isn't exactly a write-off… maybe some new hinges, though. Strange thing, too… looking closer at the door itself, there's a few minor streaks of blood. Looks like there was trouble to be had with the door. Look up though; there's Frank's carving. The derelict hadn't progressed //too/ far into the shed to deal additional damage, it's as if the majority of the violence occurred just inside of the immediate doorway itself. Pots have been tipped, delicate tendrils of roots bare and dried in the sun. Some of Lillie's work — drawn and potted — has been defiled, even.
Clyde goes and gets a bag of soil, or hand shovels it into a wheel barrel if he needs to and then brings it over to cover up the grossness. That's not good to have around. That fear is being replaced with anger and resolve. Someone came into his territory and did this? That's arm breaking worthy. Or worse. He picks up as much as he can, fixing the door as much as he can with what tools he has. When that's done, he heads out to check the fence, mark his territory. He's not rushing it, so he's gone longer than Lillie probably wanted.
Were Lillie to have remained, she would have discovered that potent anger that preceded Roddy's merry experience. The culmination of which, undoubtedly, haunts the young man to this day. There's something not right about Clyde Walker, as he would claim.
As far is the Empath is concerned, despite the man insisting that he's bad, everything is right about him. But he sure is taking awhile, and as she is warming up some previously fried chicken in the oven and snapping some peas, Lillie is noting this. Is he alright…? She wanders toward a window in the den which faces the the yard, and sees him in proximity to the fence in the day's dying glow. Huh. No use questioning what is going on out there, though it does make her wonder. Not one…. not ONE woodland pest has come in to her yard since that fence went up completely. It's almost unnatural how unbothered Lillie has been.. until now.
The hasty scoff of food set to warming, Lillie pads out onto the porch and waits anxiously, nursing a portion of Walker shine. She needs it.
After Clyde is satisfied the property is as safe as he can make it for the moment, he starts walking back to the house. Well, walking isn't the right term, it's more like stalking back. Almost daring something to defy him. Once he gets to the porch though he slows, taking a deep breath and trying to reign in some of his anger. While he does that he looks down at his dirty gross self. He doesn't want to dirty up her pretty house… "Maybe I should stay out here Lillie…"
Perceptive eyes observe Clyde's form as he makes his way back, and you bet Lillie is noticing the posturing in his movements. It's one thing for a guy to throw their weight and muscle around; this is… different. It's a threat that is being made without even trying; it's natural. Lillie's arms fold in front of her chest for a moment as she considers this, paired with the anger that she felt and yet feels as he approaches and abruptly tries to squash down. Lillie rubs her upper arms swiftly and fixes the Alpha with a genuine smile, so much so that the worry has faded from her gaze… for now. She hears his breath and waits for him to be in conversational proximity. "Always something here, isn't it? There's nothing wrong with the house… I would like to think that this was a one-time thing." She says gently, trying desperately to reassure.
Meeting him at the top of the stairs, Lillie extends her arms to him. "Come here. You don't smell that bad." She insists, earnest despite unease painting her tone is slight inflections.
Clyde hesitates, "Let me rinse off at the pump." That's going to be cold, but maybe that will feel nice. To be fair, that how most Walkers get clean, the bath he shared with Lillie was a rare thing for the Alpha. He doesn't smile back at hurt, but the frown lessons some, and he sniffs, "You makin' chicken?" She may be burning it if she's not careful!
Jeez, the guy has a strong sense of smell. Granted the windows are cracked and it's not chicken frying in the pan. That's all Lillie needs, to burn the place down with a grease fire! No no, it's the reheating of some that she made over at Josie's and brought home. Baking away~
"Leftovers." She admits, rubbing the back of her neck with a blush. "Should be enough to keep you going." That smile again as he elects to go to the pump. Lillie watches him go, and is yet unable to take her eyes away from the shed. Damnit all. Another rub to her upper arms and she goes in to make sure nothing is aflame. She timed it all just right, producing a spread of about three drumsticks and a thigh, fried green beans because good werewolves need their veggies, and some re-heated nugget potatoes. She's no slouch with spices, and even as leftovers it's pretty frickin' epic.
Upon returning, Clyde shall see this meal set up on a side-table on the porch, with Lillie seated opposite. Sometimes it's nice to hear the crickets starting up, even in the wake of a nasty business. The hair has come down, softening her anxious look considerably.
Clyde returns, hair and shirt now clinging to him. Not all the dirt can be washed away, but enough that he's not too smell gross. Seeing her makes his step slow, she's so pretty. But then the scent of the food hits him and he's quickening up the stairs, "Ya make leftovers fit fer a king, Lillie." They never have leftovers, so he's not dissing Ethel's cooking at all. He's hungry, stomach growling.
For someone who called himself stinky and messy after a day of work, he's a damned good sight after seeing the ruins of her shed. Lillie stares unabashedly, lips pressed to the rim of a glass as she is caught in mid-gulp even. It's almost comical, if one can get past the look of awe in her eyes.. yup, awe. Gone are the days where Lillie had to restrain it, look away. She's looking damnit, outright staring.. and the look is broken as Clyde hastens to get to the food. Lillie laughs softly, leaning back in her chair to sample her drink again. To boot, there's a nice bottle of ale set aside for the Alpha. Ain't she just a good hostess?
"You're flattering me. Josie threatened me with death if I left it all there with her, when I made it this afternoon. I'm glad you're enjoying it.." She trails off, eyeing the damp clinging shirt again. "Good god, your parents knew what they were doing when they put you together." Lillie utters, then blushes despite herself. "Who were your parents anyway…? If I may ask..?" Too personal? The sense will guide her. She really could stand to know more about Clyde.
Clyde grunts, "Good on Josie then." He stops, mid reach for the food and blinks, looking at her. There's a hesitance, and the amusement, "Damn it woman. Let me eat first." Well, there's the plans for the evening then! A chicken leg is ripped into. He shrugs, not sure how to describe is folks, "Pa was a Walker, ma from another clan." He chews eyeing her slightly. Two can play this game, "What about hers?"
The amusement loosens the snag of tension in Lillie's chest that lodged there, worrying about her forward query. She breaks into laughter, resting one leg over the other. "I'm trying to sway thoughts away from my poor shed!" She exclaims, biting back another chuckle followed by an apologetic look. Granted she can think of a better way to derail bad thoughts but patience, patience! Let the man eat AND answer her questions! Have a drink! Her eyes are alight in the waning glow of the evening sun, the crickets starting up to fill the silence. "I see.." She trails off, the curiosity warring with that ever-present want. "Another clan? Beyond Higsi?" Posed next.. is there judgement around calling another lineage a 'clan'? No, just intrigue. Hillfolk, right?
Clyde deflects to her and Lillie clears her throat gently. "Heh. My mother's a Nanny to some moneyed folk in the big city, my father involved in a lot of construction. My brother, a soldier. I inherited the ghost sense from my Grandmother." She offers simply, trusting Clyde. "And my name, which isn't on my birth certificate as I know it." Lillie concurs with a mischievous glimmer.. quick, fire back!
"Were there other siblings, besides Ethel?" Lillie asks softly.. to say 'were' hurts her heart greatly.
Clyde growls softly, "I can do that." Just let him finish eating first! He finishes the leg and reaches for the next one, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth briefly. There's a wariness when he answers, "There's clans…. around. Walkers the only ones who claim these mountains." His curls sway as his head tilts in confusing, Lillie's not her name? He answers quickly, "Yes." There were, it hurts him too, so he doesn't elaborate but asks, "What's yer name then?"
Watching a Walker eat is a fascinating thing. Lillie tilts her head, marveling at how the guy doesn't swallow the bones. Speaking of her poor mother, were she hear to see this feast — complete with the back of hand napkin — .. she will have shit a kitten. But 'lo, it is only Maggie O'Clery's daughter watching Clyde tuck in, and she does so adoringly. The wariness is noted and her smile falters just barely, a note of worry flashing in her eyes. It's Lillie's way to ask onwards, about some clan 'names'… but somehow this is a process. Easy does it, like building a fence.
"I'm sorry if I'm prying too deeply," She says gently, marking the hurt and not pushing. "Thank you for what you've mentioned even thus far.." Trailing off, she will entertain his own query. Eyes soft as a doe's, Lillie answers. "It's Lucietta… but, I've been Lillie since I've been in diapers. Momma thought giving me a fancy name would give me a chance, as they knew they wanted to immigrate before I came around. But it's an Italian name. Italians weren't much better off than we Irish were, in Boston. I stuck with what my Nan chose."
Leaning forward, Lillie pulls off her shoes with a relieved sigh.
Another leg down and he reaches for the thigh next, but he pauses to roll her given name over his tongue, "Lucietta… that sure is pretty too." He nods, agreeing with her mom that it's fancy. He grabs the fork and spears some veggies to shovel in between bites of meat. "Which ya prefer?" He lets go the talk of the other clans. No names will be dropped. he like Lillie too much to get her killed.
Aw, but the seed is planted. Other 'clans'. Lillie rolls that around like a marble in the vast, active arena of her mind. It makes sense that the Walkers seek other clans to further themselves, lest Jesse's tale of 'blue mountain people' find purchase. Somehow Clyde's speaking of her birth name causes her blush to deepen; save for her family speaking it, this is really the only time as of late that she enjoys hearing it being said. That, and it's Clyde. The Empath observes him openly for a moment or two, even as he shovels more of the food down to it's doom. "Look at you, wolfing that down," SNERK. "There's more of.. something.. if you're still hungry. I'm sure I can find something." Lillie offers, concerned that the Alpha will not be quite full.
"Lillie." She says without hesitation, her smile sweet. "Lucietta is too formal.. I use that to get what I want. This house, for example. My jobs. But it's too fancy for who I truly am."
Clyde may end up regretting saying anything about the other clans, but too late now. He looks from her down at the very small amount of food left on his plate, "No…this were perfect, Lillie. Thank you." He could always find room for more, but he's got other plans for the evening than eating Lillie out of house and home. More food is destroyed and he nods, "Yer plenty fancy, but I won't call ya that if ya prefer Lillie." His eyes dip slightly, taking in the line of her neck before he reaches for the beer.
It IS 'too late'; it just makes these mountain folk more provocative. She's absolutely dying to ask of the other clan that Pa Walker married into, to sow his wild oats! But the Alpha is tired, overworked and… Lillie isn't that pushy. There's no rush.
"I'm glad." Lillie smiles sweetly, considering something briefly. But another question comes to mind and she's leaning over to knead the arches of her feet, indeed revealing the slender curve of her neck as she works. Hearing the beer being cracked open Lillie responds, "I was fancy. I think I'm contesting that lifestyle a bit, by living out here and staying in Higsi. But I wouldn't have it any other way."
She looks up at him, hair quivering in the warm breeze. "What other things make you tick, Clyde? What makes you happy, what do you like? I should like to know, to make up for all of the foolishness that I seem to attract and the trouble I cause. For I wish to make you happy."
Clyde frowns slightly, "Yer fancy." Super fancy to Clyde. Not for the first time, he worries about Lillie being here. She might be happier in a fancier place. Her questions make him blink, "Huh?" He finishes off the food. "I don't know." He studies her, "I like you….you make me happy."
Fancy.. Lillie laughs softly at this, leaning back in the chair and rubbing her chin as if contemplating a great riddle. "You don't see me all day, every day. Some things may surprise you." She offers with an impish twinkle to her eye, simply watching the Alpha. That which she considered occurs to her again briefly, but she will address that soon. Maybe that will give Clyde additional cause to be happy, if he will allow himself to.
"Well, you flatter me. I often drove you mad." Lillie unfolds herself from the chair and stretches, continuing to watch the mountain man with her curious gaze. "Finish your beer, I'm going to get something from indoors really quick." She chimes, smile pulling into a grin. Uh oh.
Clyde's head tilts slightly, curls swaying. "Ya always surprise me." His nose wrinkles and he leans forward, "Ya did.' Drive him mad. He sips, watching her. He's not suspicious…yet. Maybe it's another drawing.
Did Lillie field that worry that was briefly felt? Of course she did. Hence, why she saw fit to do what she is doing currently, flouncing into the kitchen to rifle though one particular drawer for a small envelope. Spidery cursive adorns the front of the envelope, not Lillie's own but there is an address on the paper: the address to this house. Giving it a shake the Empath looks inside, looks back into the drawer and finally moves to rejoin Clyde. Opening the door, she pads over to him with a look that is simultaneously mischievous but so very, very kind.
"I've something for you." She chimes, leaning forth in front of him to give him a long, thoughtful look.. maybe ogle a bit too. It's what she does. Should Clyde take the envelope he will find a rather old-looking housekey. Lillie tilts her head, quick to explain. "It's one of the spares to get into this house. I meant it, when I wanted you to consider this a safe place.. some sort of respite. And I know you worry… so you can come and go as you need to, if you're ever concerned. Even without me here."
Clyde's spider senses tingle, envelopes usually have money. And he's not going to take hers. A deep breath and he frowns as he takes the envelope, "Lillie, I ain't-" But then it's not feeling like paper. His brow is furrowed, "I don't…understand." He means, he understands , but…why? "I ain't gonna come here if you ain't." But he doesn't handle the envelope yet though.
"I understand, I can see why you wouldn't want to be here without me. But the option is there," Lillie says gently, brow furrowing. There may be an ulterior motive in handing over a key, and she is quick to admit it. "I live out here, alone, and have been content to do so. I like being apart from the business of town. But things happen, things go bump, and to know that you have this key makes me feel even safer." She concurs, tilting her head. "This is another sign of my trust in you." The woman's expression takes on a somewhat shy look. There's also the matter of.. if something ever happens to her.. resulting in this house being abandoned again.
Cripes, should the gossips find out she handed over a key to her hearth and home to a Walker, she'd be eviscerated! But Lillie is serious.
Clyde takes deep breath, his chest filling. "Okay." It's possibly the only key he owns. But anything to make her feel safer. The alpha slides it into his pocket, taking another sip of the beer. "I can start comin' and checkin' on ya more."
It does make her feel safer, one can see the shifting in her expression into something altogether softer. Clyde pockets the key and Lillie reaches forth to rest one warm palm alongside his jaw, the thumb caressing one corner of his mouth. "Thank you. Really, for everything." Lillie says, silent for a few beats as the crickets churr along in full force, by now. Lightning bugs can be seen over in the grass over by the violated little shed.. sparse for now, but this too will increase once the sun is down proper.
"You've so much to worry about, to deal with… aside from what has happened with the shed, things are mostly peaceful out here." Lillie admits… Clyde knows her, though. Shit always happens to Lillie.. this likely won't console him much.. but she's trying. "You have your kin to work with, jobs to find… speaking of.." She leans in, nuzzles close to his ear. "Y'hear what I have poor Clifton doing? It'll fetch some pretty coin though."
Clyde's breath catches and he leans into her touch. The nuzzle fuels his desire, but he doesn't act on it. Instead he smiles into her hand, "Yer like a damn magnet fer weirdness, Lillie. I'd have ta camp out here to stop it all." He lifts his hand to cradle her face, "No…what is it?"
Oh shit, she reckoned Clif would have told Clyde what was being formulated. His smile automatically strengthens hers, and Lillie honestly forgets herself and what she was wanting to say because it's so wonderful a sight. Amusements lights up her eyes as she moves in to settle comfortably into his lap, if allowed, so that she may simply enjoy his closeness and observe the yard beyond them. She is about to explain, chuckles, reddens. "A-ah.. it hinges onto my job. Tilda trusts me, and Tilda loves herself. She was here and saw some of Clif's prints hanging in the den," Lillie clears her throat, continuing to unabashedly touch the man's face.
"It started as a joke.. Clifton using his photography to take glamour shots of old society ladies. Turns out, Tilda wants that… so I will be there to help. Clifton is going to take some very… very nice photos of the old girl for some good payment."
Lillie blushes again, nestling close. "Anything to further his confidence with his work. If this pans out.. and it will… it will help on a couple of fronts."
She's definitely allowed, his strong arms wrap around the tiny woman. He nuzzles into her touch, listening. He pauses though, "Glamour shots?" He stills and then laughs, "Are you serious?" His hands start to roam her back and arms, "He ain't confident?"
A smile and a laugh? Lillie is on a roll, and she practically melts into the response and the touch. Her sense, calm and ever-present, warms from it all. She would purr if she could; closest she can get is a content little sigh, as she rests her head into the junction of Clyde's neck and shoulder. Her words can be heard and felt as she leans back into his palm. "Completely serious." She says with a chuckle, brow furrowing. Then, sobering with her following train of thought, Lillie plays with a curl behind the Alpha's ear as she considers.
"I do believe he is yet confident in what he can do, but… after the misunderstanding following his intervention with that nasty burglary at the Wright house.. I think Clifton feared his credibility. Even with his work with Farm and Fleet being sound. I just wanted to help him.. expand a bit. Why not make some money while doing it?" A kiss to his temple. "Mind you, Tilda might try to marry him off. Especially if he dresses well.. I think he even intended to ask his friend in town to borrow a suit."
Clyde grunts, "He's a Walker. Aint' no credibility there." Clifton knows that. Strong fingers explore her back, tracing down to follow the outline of her rear, "A suit even? Huh." That'll be a sight.
A sad little tinge to her smile.. "I understand. Tilda may be a one-hit wonder with this, but she was once a gossip.. a heavy player in the old machine. In getting her to like me, and giving Clif this chance.. maybe…. but it will simply be fun with a good pay, even if it's not meant to happen again. One more interesting print for his portfolio." Lillie explains, giving a delicate little shudder as the fingers dip lower along her spine and lower still. "A suit, yes—" Her hand abandons toying with that one maddened curl, and her arm snakes around to hug around his neck so that she may look into his eyes.
"He may be a Walker, but he can be a well-dressed one for a time to charm her." She continues huskily, finding this tangent of conversation to be getting murkier as the Alpha's touch gets more exploratory. It's a right good thing they're out in the boonies…