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Post by Kuso Perez on Oct 1, 2010 19:21:14 GMT -5
There were several things he enjoyed doing with his time. Things like boarding (whether on sidewalk or ocean blues), playing baseball like no mañana, or rolling up a big fatty with a customer and counting the greens in his dark palm. Nowhere in that list was going to school. Education wasn't really important to him, or at least any form of higher education, and it made him hesitate to be involved in it. Back home to have higher education was to devote yourself to the government. Kids he knew had hoped to go to college and go places, but to go places would be getting involved in some diplomatic position. In Cuba there was no higher education without the price of your life.
He was lucky, though, as this place wasn't taking his future. Instead this facility seemed to promise a future for him. Something where he could not only harness his disorder, but perhaps learn some skills other than "handling and shipping." Regardless of the learning possibilities he knew this was a profitable step to say the least. This place was full of teenagers and party-goers. All those hormones and stressed nerves were perfect for his picking. Just on his way to the dorm he had sold a quarter and two dime bags. Now he had plenty of money to go get some BK munchies or whatever. Perhaps he'd be stuck with some hottie as a roomie. If so, then a discount was in order and he needed this little extra cash for the loss in profit. Yet if the loving was good then who was he to complain.
"La sala este numero uno-cero-uno. ¡Ay! ¡Este aquí!" The man gave a smile and pushed open the door. Seemed like furniture had already been supplied for them for at least the basics. A couch with two armchairs (used of course), a furnished kitchen, and two beds filled the space. "Saber trato con este."
Flip flops were discarded by a bed and his bag was thrown down onto the piece of furniture. The young man of twenty-two years went to the bathroom and checked himself out in the mirror. Dreads were swept back by a red bandana tied underneathe the thick styled hair, giving him a more youthful beachboy appearance, and he adjusted it slightly. The hawaiin orange and white shirt hung on his broad torso, completely unbuttoned, and revealed the white wife-beater underneathe. He was muscular and stretched his shirt a little, but worse yet he had some chest hairs playing peek-a-boo over the top. From his hips down to his knees hung a loose pair of khaki cargo shorts, the man admiring his own taste in clothing. He wasn't really vain, no no, not at all, but he did have to confess he was something good to look at. Exotic described him perfectly and the man knew that if he didn't hook up with something by the end of the week then this place was Godless.
Chocolate eyes gazed at the bump under his shirt and he smiled, thick fingers touching it gently. His mother's locket was secure under his shirt, a little memorandum from home, and he felt more relaxed recalling its presence. A final smile formed across dark lips and he went to a window in the bedroom. Hands worked to unlock it and force it open, the man sighing at the feel of a late summer breeze. Comfortably he sat in the window, legs inside and torso outside. He rolled a fattie and placed it between eager lips. A lighter came from the chest pocket of his hawaiin shirt and easily flickered to life, a flame lighting the drug.
With his pride and ability to sweet talk Jesus into submission he didn't care to mask what he was doing. The scent would permeate through the room and paint it like home. One deep inhale. Then a slow and steady exhale. That was his stuff right there. No denying the delicious taste of home-grown "produce."
"Nada igual un poco sazón."
((Time for what shall become my typical translations.
mañana = tomorrow
"La sala este numero uno-cero-uno. ¡Ay! ¡Este aquí!" = "The room is number one-zero-one. Ah! Here it is!"
"Saber trato con este." = "I can deal with this."
"Nada igual un poco sazón." = "Nothing like a little flavor."))
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Post by Matthew Williams on Oct 3, 2010 14:44:37 GMT -5
“Room one-oh-one… Room, why do you have to be up stairs?!”
Matthew Williams hissed lowly at his suitcase as he drug it up the stairs, little wheels bouncing off each step as he took another step up. It would have been his luck that the elevator would be out of service today… Or maybe it wasn’t actually out of order, and just picked him to hate on. The blonde could have sworn he had already seen six or seven students disappear into it. The mechanized thing didn’t seem to be stalled for THEM… So why was it for him? Indigo eyes rolled upwards slightly as he yanked his suitcase up the last three steps.
It was times like this that he wished he was a bird, not a bear… A really, really, really big bird. Then he could fly his luggage up, but… No use in wishing for something that wasn’t going to happen.
At the top, Matthew stopped for a moment and bent-double over his luggage, heaving a few hard breaths. The simple task shouldn’t have been so hard… And it might not have been so difficult if it hadn’t been for the sheer weight of his bag. This wasn’t even really the start of it. There was still more outside in the parking lot in his brother’s car that he would have to bring in later. As it was, this single thing had been difficult enough. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to haul his bookshelves upstairs, or his other personal things…
Well, enough dawdling. He straightened upright again and set himself to tugging his luggage closer to the door with his room number marked on it. 101… He set a smile on his face then paused…and sniffed the air. What was that? Wait, no. No, Matt knew what that smell was. He didn’t want to admit a little thrill racing through him. His roommate smoked! That… Well, there was one relief off his shoulders.
Smoking, he would admit, was a terrible habit that he had considered breaking many times (especially the more suspicious his brother got – He’d die if Alfred ever learned about his recreational hobby), but he had never quite had the willpower to actually do. If he had a roommate that would indulge him, well… Matthew never would break the habit.
He turned the nob and curiously poked his head inside to inspect the surroundings first. Not bad… They had a sitting area with a kitchen… Pre-furnished with a television! He could get used to that… He clucked his tongue slightly as he let himself inside and closed the door behind him with a quiet little “click”. The bedrooms must have been a little further down the hall, presumably behind the closed doors.
Matthew confirmed his suspicion of both the location of the bedrooms (and the restroom, he was relieved to see), as well as the source of the wafting scent of marijuana. He knew he had smelt that familiar plant.
He didn’t want to disturb the man smoking, but he did decide to speak up as he sat his luggage by the unclaimed bed. “H-Hello… I guess I’m your roommate…”
Ugh, most awkward way to start a conversation ever. Even the blonde winced at himself.
“My name is Matthew Williams,” he continued and tilt his head to the side slightly. “I’d shake hands with you, but I’d rather not accidentally destroy our furniture, y’know?”
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Post by Kuso Perez on Oct 4, 2010 17:24:33 GMT -5
He had faintly heard the sound of a door. Then almost timid footsteps treading through the house. Finally a voice sweet as sugar cane reached his ears. The man leaned back into the window and exhaled, smoke floating into the room, and he gave a broad grin.
“Gracias, Padre Celeste, para éste pieza fino de asno.” Joint in mouth he clapped his hands together and stood, still grinning broadly. “I totally get ju ese. I’d totally change if I had to shake your hand.”
Damn right he would. This blonde was freaking hot. Not to mention he was very obviously not American. Perhaps this would work out, this whole roomie thing.
“Okay, mi compañero de cuarto, my name is Kuso. It’s a pleasure meeting ju, Mattie. Hope ju don’t mind the smokes, man. If ju want I can roll ju up a sample. My treat, eh ese?”
Without waiting for an answer he reached into the pocket of his capris and pulled out a zip-loc bag of green. Also from the pocket came rolling papers. With practiced skill he spread the grass onto the paper and rolled it, wetting the sides with his tongue flirtatiously. If little Mattie took this joint after he had put his own mouth on it then that meant one of two things. The boy was either interested or an idiot. Either was plausible, but hopes ran higher on the former over the latter.
“Aqui, ese. C’est pour vous.” He extended his merchandise with a friendly smile and cocked his head slightly. This was the make it or break it moment to a good time in this dorm.
((“Gracias, Padre Celeste, para éste pieza fino de asno.” = “Thank you, Heavenly Father, for this fine piece of ass.”
mi compañero de cuarto = my roommate
Aqui, ese. = Here, homie.
C’est pour vous. = This is for you.
The last phrase is in French. As Canadians are the most common tourists in the Cuban region it wouldn’t be uncommon for the locals to learn some French, if not be fluent in it. Thusly why Kuso is tri-lingual.))
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Post by Matthew Williams on Oct 8, 2010 12:20:23 GMT -5
The teenager had laughed a little at Kuso’s statement about changing – It comforted him to know that the other man probably had the same grip on his ability as he did. Sure, that wasn’t what the Cuban had meant at all, but that was how Matthew was choosing to take it. Ah, wait, not “Cuban”… Kuso. Yes, he had just introduced himself and given a name…
“Kuso…” Matthew spoke slowly, as if fitting his lips around the name, and mouthed it a few times for good measure.
While the Canadian was usually decent with names, after his first few changes, he had found remembering little details like that was a little more difficult – So now he practiced long before he had to repeat the name. Matthew couldn’t be certain why he now suffered any issue with recalling things. Perhaps his mind was changing to match that of the Kermode Bear? The blonde winced at the thought. There was little medical science and facts on the smaller species of Polar… They were so rare to find, after all. So anything covering the memory span of a Kermode Bear was lost on Matthew.
He just hoped they weren’t like goldfish and forgot things every six seconds. That would suck.
Then the joint was extended to him.
The indigo eyes lowered to the offered object and he thought about it for just a moment. He really needed to go back out to his brother’s car and start collecting the rest of his things… It would probably be best if he could actually put one foot in front of the other without giggling like a fool and thinking he had grown Octopus tentacles that would slither and pull him along. On the other hand…
…Octopus tentacles could pick up more bags, and he’d be finished unpacking in half the time.
The Canadian reached out to accept the offered treat and flashed a sweet smile. “T..Thanks.”
He placed the gift in his mouth and held it there as he began to dig around on his person, searching for his lighter. Pockets? No, not in his jeans… That was where he kept his cell phone and wallet, but not his lighter. Ah, duh! Must have been in the pocket of his bunnyhug! Matthew slid his hand inside and fished out the zippo with a large maple leaf stamped on the side and flicked it open.
“This is actually just what I need, you know?” he mumbled slightly as he took hold of the joint with his fingertips again, his other hand hovering the flame at the tip as he carefully took his first, blissful drag. The Canadian all but moaned in delight and closed his eyes at the feeling – It had already been too long since his last one. “I haven’t been able to do this in… Three weeks, I think. Doesn’t seem like a long time, I guess, but with all the stress that’s been going on with… this issue, if you catch my drift, it feels like months…”
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Post by Kuso Perez on Oct 9, 2010 16:34:16 GMT -5
Was he actually surprised that the blonde had accepted the offered joint? Irregardless, it appeared that the clouding room was affecting the lighter man's head. Perhaps a warning needed to be given? This obvious Canadian was only used to grass from his own nation, no doubt, and Cuban greens would likely be too much for him.
"Hey, ese, ju should prob'ly take that slow. Ju ain't smoking Canadian greens, eh? Ju smokin' Cuban grown. Big difference there, ese."
A fair enough warning as he finished off his own joint. He strolled past the blonde and lazily threw his weight down onto the couch. Chocolate orbs gazed at the opposing man's face with a glint of mirth in his eyes.
"So, other than smokin, what ju like to do, homes? I ain't the type to just sit around, ju know? Gets kinda boring sitting around all day."
Vaguely he wondered for a moment if Mattie was the type who completely mellowed out and didn't move after achieving a buzz. Maybe he was the hyper talkative type or the philosopher... Or perhaps he was the nympho type who was caught humping the deer target out in the back yard. A grin rose to dark lips and a chuckle escaped him at the thought. He needed his camera if he was going to hang out with this cute kid. A photo with a shirt off would be worth more than two menthol cools.
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Post by Matthew Williams on Oct 19, 2010 8:10:35 GMT -5
The blonde had drawn the “merchandise” away from his lips for a moment after his first draw had really settled in his lungs and began rushing through his bloodstream. The Cuban wasn’t lying… The strength of this stuff was absolutely different from what he was used to back home. If it was already making his legs quiver in anticipation of the buzz that he would soon be embracing, that meant one of two things : Regardless of what the reason was, he did sit himself down on his newly claimed bed and took his next draw a little more slowly – It wouldn’t do to act like a complete moron in front of his roommate on the first day, now would it? He wanted to at least give off the impression that he went virtually unaffected by his smoking habit. Yet he could already feel the side effects…the lowering of his inhabitations… Matthew chewed on his lip slightly and tried to dismiss it. Just ignore it for now. Focus on answering the question. “H-Hey, I’m not an addict or something,” he giggled as he waved his hand that now held his joint like it was a cigarette as opposed to what it actually was -- he was either too comfortable with weed, or still inexperienced. “I don’t really like to just stay cooped up either. I like going on hikes..canoeing… Oh! God, I love hockey! I-I have to warn you about that ahead of time…” Normally, one wouldn’t use the word “warn” when informing someone about a pastime – But this wasn’t just any old hobby. This was hockey, and hockey fans (as well as players) all came with their own personal warning labels (usually stating to not operate while under the influence of alcohol or a heavy narcotic – They should also not be allowed to drive, but that’s another story), especially during the season. Problem with that is, ask any self-respecting hockey fan when the season is over : Your answer (or, at least, the one that Matthew would give)? Hockey season is never over. Ever. Yeah, it was definitely a warning for his poor roommate. |
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Post by Kuso Perez on Oct 19, 2010 18:02:03 GMT -5
Such a typical kid. A Canuck through and through. Again he gave a smile to the blonde and chuckled. Yeah, he was gonna make some dough of this chicito bonito for sure.
"So nature and hockey. Sounds like ju are really into human spirit, eh ese?"
Perhaps this school thing wasn't some sort of lost cause after all. On the black market alone, should the kid screw him over, he'd sell for somewhere around eight grand. If he was a virgin (something Kuso highly doubted) he'd sell for four grand extra. More than enough pocket change for some wheels. Send a little home for mama too.
Despite these thoughts, Kuso was hopeful that, for once, he could settle and have some form of companionship. Mama wanted him to settle down and have a family. Not good for a "salesman" like himself. Besides, no way to have a family with a dude. Though sometimes mama didn't mind the cute boys from before.
"So, once ju finish that ju wanna go out and check out some of this town? I'm the kinda guy who wants to know what's out there, ju know?"
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Post by Matthew Williams on Nov 3, 2010 15:23:52 GMT -5
“Go out?”
Matthew had wrinkled his nose slightly in thought as he took another draw from his treat. Going out did sound awfully nice… Just completely forgetting about all of the luggage in his brother’s car didn’t sound that bad either. Leave it and see how long it took him to figure out it was still there… The Canadian chuckled lowly and absently tapped a little ash off the bud.
“I don’t see why not – Will you help me drag my crap up when we get back? I don’t want it to load down my brother’s car forever…”
Apparently, what he thought and what he SAID were two completely different things. That was a terrible habit he needed to work on, Mattie realized with a grimace to himself.
“You just want to…explore? You know, get a feel for everything?” he questioned softly as he lowered the blunt and peered over-top his lenses at Kuso (something he had been told by his brother too many times aged him dramatically). “Or do you want to do something? I’m fine with either…”
(Oh, God, short post was short.)
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Post by Kuso Perez on Nov 10, 2010 13:04:38 GMT -5
Do something, huh? Yeah, he wanted to do something all right.
"Maybe we could find something to do. Like go to the movies or somethin, ju know?"
Movies were easy. You could go in high as hell and there were munchies galore with refills to top it all off! They'd be in the dark and, if he was lucky, he could see just how valuable this little maple candy was.
"Sounds good, muchacho. I think I can help you with that stuff, too. Strong enough to lift beds and assemble. Strong enough to break them too." He commented idly, dark eyes suggesting more than just walking and arranging furniture.
Maybe while out he could spot the post office. Wanted some stamps so he could be sending mama some money and letters. She'd be worried, no doubt, and he knew he sure was.
________
((Not much better here.))
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Post by uhaybobakfife on May 13, 2019 12:39:02 GMT -5
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Post by ukuwejegndvo on May 13, 2019 14:27:55 GMT -5
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