The Tasmanian Devil

Evan "Taz" Wolfe| 21| Apartment 1C ❝Forget stardust—you are iron. Your blood is nothing but fire. It is iron that fills your heart and sits in your veins. And what is iron, really, unless it’s forged? You are...

[alyciasdebnamcareys]

[evan-wolfe]

brandonmathers:

[He was bumped, only slightly, but he did step out of his comfortable stance. Turning, he spotted a shorter, younger male who had obviously started the party somewhat earlier than he had.] That’s no trouble, my friend. Are you alright?

[Offering his hand, to the man who was obviously an escort if his attire had anything to say about that,] do you have a name that you go by here?

[Alcohol and Taz never really went hand in hand. And while there were a few pros to the drinking—increase in confidence and stellar bladder control, the cons completely outweighed them. Horrible balance, increase in chatter, overly large appetite (you get the point). Still, it was nice of the guy to at least ask if he was okay and not shove past him.]  Yeah, I'm okay. I already have pretty shitty balance and drinkin' didn't really help with it, maybe I should get a cane to help me next time. [Or maybe duck tape to stop myself from making an idiot of myself.] 

[He grins, before accepting the handshake. Admittedly, he uses the hand more as a crutch than anything else but he catches himself before it becomes too noticeable.] Name? 'Course, I do. I'd be a weirdo if I didn't. It's Taz. What about ya? Or can I try and guess it? 

[evan-wolfe]

tate-sawyer:

Eye of the beholder, right? [Is all he says, because he’s nowhere near drunk enough to give voice to the other lurking thought — "maybe I like you mortified" — because, really, whosays that? And it’s not exactly what he means, just close enough to be slightly glib and maybe a little mortifying on his part.

He just kind of likes being put in the position where it’s his part to put someone at ease. Soothe them. So it’s maybe not that he wants to humiliate, mortify, shame, it’s that he wants to be the one to reel someone back in.  But instead it’s him who’s out of sorts and trying to hide it, because he’s not comfortable being at the other end of the reel.]

I suppose so, but I thought that was AA, not — this. [Brothels. He means brothels, he thinks brothels, but it’s so opulent that he feels like he might be smite on the spot (by who, some kind of porn gods?) if he said it out loud. And he cracks a smile, aware that he’s maybe being made to relax even though he doesn’t want to need the help, but it’s not the escort’s fault that he’s in over his head, so he thinks he has no choice but to let it go, let it happen, reply only with a deadpan quip.] I was about to say — my god, the dildos, they’ve evolved.

Eye of the beholder? I guess ya have a point about that. [He appreciated the way Tate talked. He was kind without being a boring—adding on to the conversation in his own way that inadvertently brought more attention to the words that he didn't use compared to the ones that he did. It was the complete opposite of how Taz talked—trying to fit as many words and sentences as he could in one breath at a time. The contrast was interesting to witness. 

However, at the phrase 'this', his brows furrowed in confusion. There were multiple words that could have substituted for this: Whorehouse was one of the first words that popped up in his mind and it left a bad taste in his mouth. No matter how much time has passed, the phrase whore always felt like acid to bare skin.

But judging by the smile that followed the retort, it obviously wasn't meant to be offensive and it's not the bloke's fault that Taz was a little butt hurt by the truth of his situation.] Never been to AA before, but I guess that would be the best comparison. But instead of tryin' to avoid drinking more than five cups at a party, it would be avoidin' five tits...or cocks if that's ya thing. [He corrects himself at the end just to be safe, before laughing at the impassive response.]  Evolved dildos are no jokin' matter, yeah? It's dangerous stuff there. 

[evan-wolfe]

denverkane:

[Denver’s finalizing details with the concierge, his leather shoulder bag at his feet stuffed with only light clothing, when he hears the dull shuffling thud of bone hitting metal, and he spins on the balls of his feet, adrenaline already burst in his veins. 

The security guard mirrors his posture to a lesser degree, tension in the lines of his back, but a certain resignation to the set of his feet as if this happens often and he’s not about to abandon his post at the door. Denver lets his spine unwind, lets himself slowly settle again, grounding.

It always takes him a while to re-adjust to civilian life, his reflexes always on a hair trigger.  

Freckles — Who Denver had initially assumed was part of the smattering at the bar — is rubbing his jaw tenderly, and failing to look nonchalant. Denver can feel his eyebrow climb up his face. 

He almost laughs. He really does. He’s half expecting a salute at the end of that fumbling. He can feel the giveaway twitch in his jaw, as the kid tries to make up for what had to have been a painful collision with the elevator door. He’s got mismatched socks on, Denver can see where the fabric of his denims has worn thin, his hair slightly more flat on one side, and he thinks he spies a pillow crease on the kid’s cheek. 

Everything about him screams ‘messy’, young and bumbling, nervous energy and frenetic movement. 

It’s all a breath of fresh air in its authenticity.

And yet…

… Denver’s paranoia is harsh at the best of times. This kid is clearly an escort, no Master would stumble into the chandelier-lit lobby yawning and dressed in what look to be thrift store cast offs. Manufactured personas are the bread and butter of an escort’s trade. What would make this one any different?]  

The shiner on your cheekbone would indicate otherwise. [He’s picked up his bag, weathered leather strap over on shoulder, and meets the boy at the elevator doors as they inevitably step in together.]

[This day was now nominated for the worse day of his life (don't be so dramatic, dude) ; it was raining, he had a headache, he was hungry, and he just ran into a wall. Hard. It honestly couldn't get worse than that—well it can, but he is absolutely not trying to jinx it. At least he couldn't really embarrass himself anymore than he already had, he was going to peacefully go about his way and hide his mortification in a plate or two of pancakes—hopefully they have blueberry ones, it was his favorite and literally the few things that would make his shitty day a little bit better.

However, at the gruff voice behind him, Taz knew that his embarrassment was far from over. Christ, even his voice was attractive—it was like liquid silk and just completely unfair. Grabbing the last of pride that hadn't shattered the moment he kissed the wall, Taz walked into the elevator and prayed to every god that he did and didn't believed in, that he didn't put his foot in his mouth (he wasn't going to hold his breath on that one).

Still now that the guy mention it,  he did have a point about his face. It was going to be pretty bad before it healed up (once again, don't be dramatic). Taz pokes at his face, index finger probing the apple of his cheek before wincing at the pain that predictably followed.] Maybe I'll get lucky and find some raw meat to slap on it. Ya think a pork-chop would work? Some hamburger meat?  [Was it pathetic that he was serious? He was never good at fixing injuries—he usually just took a shit ton of pills, took a shot of bourbon, went to sleep, and wished for the best. Surprisingly, the method worked about 60% of the time—that was still 40% more than estimated.]

[Half of him wanted to blame the guy. If it wasn't for his general existence, Taz wouldn't have ran into the wall and his face would have been fine, but of course he wasn't going to tell him that. Especially in an elevator, that would be lame. And stupid. Very stupid. Of like the highest proportions. 

But Taz was still curious about this new guy. Looking over at the male from the corner of his eye, it was obvious that he was a Master. He damn near oozed control and dominance and Taz could almost feel himself shrinking up in the corner.

It was like...what was the best way to say it?

It was like putting a lion in a cage with a puppy—it was obvious who was going to come out alive and who was going to be the meal for the night. Still, it could never be said that Taz didn't like a challenge and he was going to do what he did best. Talk. A lot.] Sooo...Ya new here. [He motioned over to the bag that was around the male's shoulder] How do ya like it so far? I know ya just got here, but there's a think called first-impression and hopefully it's a good one or at least a decent one. [Taz grins] Not everyone walks into things here, s'not really the norm. [Only for me].

[evan-wolfe]

lili-bowen:

[Lili had somehow managed to have minimal interaction with Taz before now, and that was a damn shame, because he was amusing the hell out of her tonight. She was just slightly tipsy, and from his sudden outburst of laughter, she thought that he might be, too. Good. More fun that way. If she really needed a surefire sign that she wasn’t 100% sober, it was the fact that she giggled— didn’t laugh, didn’t chuckle, but giggled, God help her— at his joking, finishing off her drink before setting the empty glass on the counter. His accent reminded her of Tottenham, of the people who she served at the bar, and she could feel herself lapsing into that version of Lili— her enunciation loosened, words joking, manner sardonic. Lili’s next words left her reflexively with no thought behind them, her tone teasing as she said,] Well, you know what they say about men with big feet.

[She giggled again, running her hands absently up and down her arms in an effort to warm herself.] The hell do family values have to do with this place? And don’t worry about me, s’not that cold. I definitely wouldn’t take your only tiny bit of coverage, anyway. [He moved closer, and she tilted her head up further to keep eye contact, grinning wryly.] Can’t say I’ve ever been a part of an orgy, or anything like one, but yeah, I imagine you’re right. I think I’d have to take it one dick at a time.

[He could lose himself in this. The pleasure of just enjoying someone's company without having to worry about how much they willing to pay by the end of the night. Of course he's not saying that he's completely against the whole premise—it's his occupation for Christ sake. But it was still nice to not have to pretend all the time and just...enjoy. If this was what nights were with Lili then he could absolutely see himself hanging out with the blonde on a regular basis. And with Red involved, that would be a threesome (not sexual, of course) that he could totally get behind.] Means that I got a pretty wicked cock, and not to toot my own horn but it is a pretty nice...package. From an outsider's point of view, of course. [Barging about dick sizes with a girl. Grade A work, Evan.] 

Family values have a ton to do with this place. We have a Alpha Bear and we are her little cubs and cublettes that she has to protect for the greater good. And yadda, yadda, yadda [He sluggishly waves his hand in the air, ignoring the fact that the alcohol made it far too easy for him to rant.] I think it would be easier if they had a class for orgies, 'cause shite like that is intimidatin'. Too many people to pleasure and not enough stamina. We need lessons. 

[evan-wolfe]

gabrielle-elk:

[Gabrielle beamed broadly at his confirmation that no one else got to call him Mr. Kent, though there was a slight flush at the return of ‘Lois Lane’.  There had been a time where she’d considered that particular role play … but who knew what was in the cards with her return?]  I was.  I mean … how could I not be, you know?

[It’s hard to hide the relief from her voice at Mae being well, not knowing, of course, just how much Taz could relate when she was sick.  And how it felt to have it go the other way.  The change of subject is probably welcome to him, even if she’s unaware.]  Oh, not long at all!  A couple of days.  I’m all moved in and unpacked and everything.  You?  [It’s odd to be having such a normal conversation with Taz in his boxers, but maybe that spoke to something about their relationship.]

 Of course, no one else is Lois Lane but Lois Lane. [He can't help the grin at the end. The old nicknames make him feel nostalgic, and maybe that was what he was lacking when he went back to Camden. He didn't have any real connections to the place. His dad and his brother were really the only reason why he stayed so long in the first place. But this was different. He had a foundation—something that was completely his. Something that he could leave and come back to. 

The realization was welcomed, but still a tiny bit inappropriate—going through an existential crisis was all fine and dandy, but to have it in nothing but boxers and a thin layer of hair on your stomach is kinda uncomfortable. Still, Gabrielle didn't seem bothered by his attire (or lack there of) so he was going to try his best and ignore it himself.] I'm kinda late to the show, in all honesty. [He chuckles and rubs at the nape of his neck.] I let Red convince to move later than I should have. Last time I let that happen, but I'm finally all moved in. Same apartment and all, if ya ever wanted to come 'round and what not [He pauses for a beat to correct himself.] If ya  wanted to. 

[thewayoufallsleep-deactivated20]

[hakimdecode]

Visit Original Link

 my life is sweet like cinnamon

[evan-wolfe]

brandonmathers:

[To be fair, he’s surrounded by naked, scantily clad and black tie attired people, and to be fair it’s not his fault that he’s considered hiring or seducing more or less half of them. He’s only human. Placing down his empty glass, he takes a last look around the room before wandering through to one of the ‘play rooms’ that the Madam had set up for her residents to utilise should they please. It was an impressive sight, to say that least.]

[The more that Taz drank, the more comfortable he felt being half naked .Of course he wasn't as bold as Red to go off and be completely naked, but he wasn't as uptight as he was at the beginning of the night. He wasn't drunk per say, but there was definitely a haze to his vision. Drinking too much would probably be the reason why he just walked into a nearby resident.] Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't see ya there, mate. [He looks up at the person he bumped into and lets out a low whistle because whoa. Taz hasn't seen him around before, but it's not a surprise anymore that more new people would be at the party.]

[evan-wolfe]

lili-bowen:

Yeah? [Lili bit her lip and raised her eyebrows at the compliment, allowing herself to give him a slightly more thorough, if still brief, once over. Meeting his eyes again, she grinned.]  Thanks. I think you could pull the coat off, too, despite the pedophile aspect, but only because you’re pretty. [She tilted her head to the side.] Heels are optional, of course, but I think you’re tall enough already.

[Pushing away from the bar, Lili stood up straight, huffing out a laugh.] My sister used to love that movie. And my goal is definitely not to bring the Arctic to London— Christ, I just wanna be warm. That was the point of the penguin huddle, Taz! [The more she thought about it, the more she felt close to shivering, and she shook herself. She smirked a bit at Taz’s words, crossing her arms as she looked up at him— partially in an effort to look casual, and partially in an effort to warm herself.] With enough lube. [She laughed.] Yeah, that’s definitely the direction it would head in. Could be fun, I guess, if a little… overwhelming.

[Now that he thought about it, he never understood why him and Lili never really talked before this night, she was fucking awesome. No wonder her and Red were such good friends—they had a lot in common; fiery attitude, not afraid to say what's on her mind, and she allowed him to ramble. Yeah, Lili was wicked. At the 'pretty' comment, he can't help but burst out laughing. At this point in the night, it was easier to ignore the looks when you were more than one drink in.] Aw, ya think so? I try and exfoliate like once a night. Not so sure on heels, I don't think they'll have my size. I have big feet. [He wiggles his eyebrows playfully.]  

It was a family movie! It was touchin' and about family values...and other stuff like that. [He holds his hands out defensively, but there was still a smile etched on his face.] A penguin huddle was a pretty good idea if we had fur or whatever penguins have on 'em. [His smile diminishes a bit when she crossed her arms over herself. She looked cold—hell he didn't blame her, but he felt bad that he didn't have anything to give her.] Shite, I wish I had somethin' for ya but I don't think my boxers would make a good coat on ya. [Still, he found himself moving closer to her, hoping that with enough body heat, it'd be enough to make it bearable.] Christ, as much as I talk about 'em, they would be overwhelmin' but just one person at a time, yeah? Like boom one cock there, another here but ya might get lucky and get a tit. 

[denverkane-blog]

[Denver ducks through the door, the softly lit interior breathing a subdued warmth in counterpoint to the freezing early December rain. a staple of winter in London that Denver can honestly say he’s never missed. His hair is soaked, ink made obsidian, and he can feel rivulets working their way down the back of his neck, a cold line slithering down to pool in his collar. Attempting not to drip on the cream Aubusson’s is nigh impossible, but he gives it a valiant effort. 

He strips and folds the jacket efficiently over his arm, the doorman to his left — who’s more built than Denver had even been at his peak and is bleeding honed awareness out his pores like the sharp tang of cigarette smoke — eyeing him. He’s an unfamiliar face, and their security is good. There are a few people milling around, sticking close to the bar, and at a glance Denver catalogues each one — freckles, recklessly sharp lipped, perpetually talking with a sneer, never moves with their back to the door, treacle-sweet eyes — memorizing their minute individual peculiarities. 

There’s a stunning attendant at the front desk, honey brown hair pulled up in a style that speaks of efficiency in a way Denver can admire in a detached sort of curiosity. Her greeting is bright and polite, and Denver wonders what she’s like when she gets home and takes down her hair, unbuttons that tight blouse, and cracks a beer.] Denver Kane. [It never loses the way it trips off his tongue. Like a lie that’s never been told before, too new to know how to be pronounced.] Apartment 7A. I’m to pick up my key, I’ve been told? Everything else has already been taken care of.

[He’d had his pitifully small pile of personal effects sent over a few weeks earlier, while Mi6 were still attempting to patch him back together like a scarecrow, and was told the concierge would see them up to his room. A room he’d opted to have furnished, hadn’t even bothered to see in person before he laid down the deposit, because anything was better than his dingy tin-can flat where the weight of his solitude and obsolescence threatened swallow him whole.]  

[evan-wolfe]

[It was official. Taz had a hangover; correction, he was coming down from a hangover. The sharp pain in his temple was enough to make him stay in bed all day and just live in the shade of his room, but Taz rarely got what he wanted. He woke up to Red strumming her guitar, and while that was something that he should be used to at this point, today was not one of those days. He wasn't in the right mindset to deal with Red at the moment—well at least not before breakfast and a crap ton of pills. He needed to be on the Fourteen floor like  yesterday. It had been a while since he last had food from there and figure that there was no better time than the present. And it was fucking raining outside so there was no way, he was going to go outside.

So the first part of the day was already figured out, now came the hardest part: Actually getting up. He grunted, removing the sleep from his eyes before just laying in bed for five extra minutes. A half an hour later, he finally got enough strength to get out of the bed, wash his face, brush his teeth and put on something that resembled proper clothing (He's doubts that a plaid shirt and jeans with holes in it count as proper but it was gonna have to do for today.) Shuffling his way out of room—not before kissing Red on the forehead and rolling his eyes at the finger that he received, he finally made his way to the elevator. He almost takes pleasure in the soft ding of the door closing, only for the elevator to go down instead of up.] Son of a bitch! [His string of curses, echoed in the elevator shaft  and he can't help but kick the metal door because FUCK YOU DOOR FOR NOT GOING UP.

[He manages to get himself together before the door arrives at the lobby and he gets out to switch to the elevator that goes UP. Taz glances around the lobby, lazy amber eyes taking in both the familiar  and not familiar faces. There's no many people in the lobby, but it did look like someone new just checked in, if the small amount of luggage was anything to go by. Taz squints to take a closer look at the person and HOLY SHIT. He was hot. Like ridiculously so, the little rivets of water did nothing to help Taz's case.  Like it was unhealthy and unrealistic for someone to look like that. NATURALLY.

Taz was too focus on Greek God of a newcomer, that he didn't notice that the elevator had closed in front of him until he walked into it and slamming the side of his face against the metal door.] Fuck! [He cups his cheek as he continues to curse under his breath. It's a pretty bad day already and when Taz looks up the security guard AND the Norse god imposer is looking in his direction with a raised eyebrow. Great, play it cool Evan. You can do this. He laughs sheepishly, and rubs the back of his head in a horrible attempt to be causal.] Don't worry about me, I was just doin' some things...over here, by the elevator. That's not runnin' into 'em. Good day to ya both. [ A+ for effort, Evan.] 

[gabrielle-elk-blog]

[Gabrielle certainly wasn’t without insecurities of her own.  In fact, it had probably been part of the reason they had drifted apart when they had both still been in residence at the apartments.  They both could be so uncertain, it made things difficult sometimes.  But there’s a kinship in that, her arms squeezing just as tightly as Taz does at the nickname, grinning into the crook of his neck before letting go.]

I would think so, unless you have others that you have a Superman in joke with.  [Her grin is bright and genuine, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss to the cheek.]  Family time is always a good thing, heart.  I went home to Mae and … oh, Taz, she’s in remission.  I nearly kissed the doctor when they said it.

[evan-wolfe]

Of course not, you're the only one that gets to call me that. Reserved for Lois Lane. [He winked at her playfully, smile still printed on his face when she kissed his cheek. She was half the reason why he decided to go home.] Ya did? I'm glad she's okay, I know ya worried a lot about her.

[Mae. She was one of the last things that him and Gabs talked about, he remembers how worried Gabs was about Mae and while he'd never met the woman he was glad that she was alright. Gabrielle had talked so much about Mae, it felt like she was his family member as well.Still, it was good that all was well with her, she deserved it.] How long has it been since ya been back? Hopefully not long.

[claretmahina]

Hmm, no, I don’t think it does. [lips twitching briefly with amusement, she sipped her drink before finally smiling.] Now I remember, the little devil, deep breaths I’d hate to have Madam after me before I’ve fully settled in.

[evan-wolfe]

 [He remembers enough about Claret to feel comfortable around her; well as comfortable as he could get in his current situation.] "Little Devil?" I think I actually like that name, never heard that one before. Points on creativity, yeah? 

[lili-bowen]

[Despite the fact that the parties that she remembered from before had always simply been formal dress, Lili was doubtful about the possibility of full bodily coverage at the next event— call her a pessimist, but Madam was a business woman, and it was all too clear from her surroundings that the lingerie ploy was definitely working to attract interest.] Hmm. Maybe, but I think we should keep the coat idea in mind, just in case. If we get to wear a coat, I might even wear shoes— heels, or something— but with just this, it would have felt a little… well. [Porny. The word that she was looking for was porny.] 

Yes, penguins. Don’t laugh— [It was a pointless statement, as she was also laughing herself, cheeks flushed with alcohol and amusement, but she felt the need to defend herself.] It’s not that random, okay, penguins in the Arctic huddle together and their combined body heat… Yeah, okay, never mind. I’m letting that one go. As for how many escorts… I really don’t know. [She tried to picture it— all of them pressed up together, lithe bodies barely covered with scraps of black lace, and she actually snorted out loud, because she had a feeling that, in this place, the pile would devolve into an orgy sooner rather than later.] Somehow, I think that we  would all end up being plenty warm.

[evan-wolfe]

Nah, I think we could get away with it. It's kinda like a physical petition, the more people that rock the look, the more clothes that Madam would probably allow to wear at a time. Ya gotta think of it like a win-win. But if it counts, I'd think ya'd look very nice in heels and a coat. Emphases on very. [Christ, sometimes Taz would love the power of thinking before he talks, because that would make his life so less awkward and embarrassing. On the bright side, he hasn't fucked the conversation up too much since she's still talking to him.]

Okay, okay. I won't laugh—too hard. But I totally respect penguins. Happy Feet was like my favorite movie. [It was actually his brother's favorite, but he's seen it enough time for it to be his favorite.] I don't think we can bring the Arctic to London, the best we can do it throw ice on each other in the cold. That's the best that we can do, I figure. [That many escort without clothes on is only going to resort to one thing: Sex. Whether or not, Taz is down for it, is still up in the air.] With enough lube, I'd be up for it.   

[tate-sawyer]

[He cracks a smile as he starts talking, a smile that spreads into a grin the more he goes on. He likes the counterpoint, tends to like people who are at some opposite pole than he. Feels like he defines himself best in comparison, and he becomes more steady of a rock when faced with this kind of fast-paced chatter.]

You don’t need to blame anything at all, it’s fine. [And he feels like he’s out on a limb, even though it’s pretty tame considering that he’s pretty sure there are two people well on the way to fucking that he can see out of the corner of his eye.] Kinda cute, actually.

And yeah, it’s definitely something. [He’s pretty sure he’s had a semi since he walked in the door, and imagines Andrew telling him that it’s ruining the lines of his suit. And doesn’t know whether that’s helpful or — the opposite of helpful.] And no, not yet. But the night’s still young, right? Should I be insulted if I don’t?

[evan-wolfe]

[Taz can't place his finger on this Master. He's not sure if he's naturally this reserved or if he's nervous. He was fine with either or, he just couldn't figure out which.

He tries to remember how it was when he first walked through the door of the Apartments; he felt out of whack, overwhelmed, and a weird need to be calm and collected. Maybe it might be different for Tate since he was a Master and Taz came in as an escort, but the feelings should be all the same. Trying to be something that you're not because the place is ten times more elegant and fancier that you could ever be, the hardest thing that Taz had to do was adjust. And adjusting was easier said than done, so if his rambling could help the new Master ease into the place, he'd be more than happy to talk his ear off. ] Ya call it cute, I call it mortifyin', but semantics, yeah?  

I'd say it's somethin' that ya get used but I'd be lyin'. One day at a time? [He grins, shrugging his shoulders before doing his best to keep a straight face.] I'd be highly insulted, if people aren't rippin; off ya clothes in the next twenty mins, I'd file a complaint. Orgies, flyin' dildos, threesomes, this is the place ya wanna be at if ya wanna get laid. [It's not long after that, that he can't control his laughter.] I might a bit dramatic about the flying dildos, but everything else is pretty much Ace. 

[claretmahina]

I remember you… Though your name seems to have slipped off my tongue, be a dear and remind me.

[evan-wolfe]

Ouch, ya wound me. [He dramatically grips his chest before smiling.] I'd like to believe that I have a memorable face. At least a name like Taz should be unforgettable. 

[gabrielle-elk-blog]

[Part of her is nervous.  Part of her remembers the last party they both attended, and exactly what had happened after.  And then she remembers what happened after that, the slow drifting apart.  But it had never quite changed the way she felt about him.

Her memories of him in Louisiana had been nothing but fond, of laughter and Superman.  Their situation had always been complicated, but it never reduced just how much she cared for the man whose real name she still didn’t even know.

One moment of hesitation and then his smile blooms and Gabrielle is pulling him into a tight and fierce hug, lingering for a minute before she even thinks to speak again.]  Too long.  Far too long.  How have you been, Mr. Kent?

[evan-wolfe]

[For all the insecurities that Taz has, he's never felt more confident than whenever Gabs was around. She was literally a ray of sunshine and that was what he missed most about her. She was someone that had been in his life longer many, longer than most and he was grateful that she came back. He owes a lot to her, more than she probably knows.

He's practically beaming when she pulls him in for a hug and before he knows it, it's like nothing has changed between them. There wasn't a period when they weren't talking, but only good times and smiles. At his old nickname, he laughs before hugging her tighter.] Christ, it's been forever since anyone called me that. I've been good, went home for a few and spent some well deserved time with my family, dragged Red with me so I can't complain. What about ya?