Valentine Heart is in the mall doing what any average teenager would do in the mall when occupying it’s halls unaccompanied: he’s shopping. Well, technically he hasn’t bought anything yet and hasn’t yet contemplated buying anything that he has seen all day. Actually, if you want to get very technical, Valentine isn’t shopping at the mall, he’s standing in the bookstore in the middle of the isle contemplating a young man at the front of the store. The man’s body is sliced just above the knees by his view over the top of the bookshelves and when truth be told there was nothing particularly interesting about the young man at all in his khaki shorts and short sleeved shirt, his typical close cut and his boring hazel eyes. If anyone in the store is interesting, it’s the young man doing the staring.

Valentine is a slender figure with a mysteriously gothic charm to him, an old world feel that literally breaths vampire into ones mind. His hair falls in waves down to the center of his back, a black curtain of silk to become the perfect contrast against his milky pale skin. His face isn’t just hansom, it’s beautiful in a way that is too masculine to be feminine but too beautiful to be very masculine. His shirt is a simple design that manages to be unique and gothic without being drastic. The shirt is a charcoal gray long sleeved number with a thin black cross that runs diagonally across his chest, the top tip hovering just beneath his armpit, the bottom tip touching his hip, the cross piece making a slight angle over the middle of his chest. His pants are a black crossbreed between dress pants and cargo pants that makes them casual but nice.

Valentine is standing with his boots about shoulder width apart and leaning forward enough to bring the heels off of the carpeted floor, leaning forward far enough to need to put the tips of his fingers of his left hand against the shelf to keep from falling forward. His other hand rests nonchalantly in his pocket. Two of his fingers on the left hand have very plain silver bands around them. His look is intense but something about the way his body is positioned, the way his body seems effortlessly posed, loose and relaxed, says that he is not concentrating very hard on his task, something about the way he looks invites conversation. The corner of his lip looks turned, just barely, upward into a relaxed, easy smile.

The young man doesn’t know he’s being watched but any other onlooker would think that he should be shivering with cold chills under those eyes. They are not dark or piercing, only so open, so focused, that they should be felt as well as seen. Valentine likes to watch people, they’re interesting to say the least.

OOC: I know it isn't much of a starting post but I worked on it for almost three hours and this is the best Valentine would let me have tonight. Sorry, dove.

(( OOC: !!! Doll, if this isn't much of a starting post... : shakes head and waggles finger: It's perfect! <3 ))

If the other can be called a Filet Mignon with wine to drink and Tiramisu for dessert, than Bri Ayden Young - in comparison - is a grilled cheese sandwich, glass of milk, and an ice cream sandwich. Or at least, his face is about as plain as plain can get, especially compared with the other young man. Though he has been told what his face lacks, what's under his clothes makes up for it. But a few people are put of by his simple face before anything. Bri doesn't mind though, or especially care if he is plain, mainly because he's bit too much of a ditz to take offense to anything.

He is at the mall as well, and in the book store. Why? He's going through every book store he can find, trying to find books on cacti. So far he hasn't been that successful, oddly, it's as if everyone else in the world has a cactus or they're interested in cacti. He has a bag in his hand, but that's from Hollister.

...What? There was a sale and he needed new jeans. Actually, he had two large bags in his hand. The other was from his stop in JoS. A. Bank for a sale on some dress shirts, now that was a splurge. Lucky he had already bought a couple of new pairs of shoes two weeks ago, or he'd be looking for shoes too. Just because he is ditzy and is fine with his looks being plain doesn't mean he doesn't have fashion sense, c'mon now.

Today he was dressed like a model for either store; slightly baggy but not saggy jeans, faded with plenty of holes, held up by a cream colored D-Ring belt. To compliment the colors, he was wearing a light pink dress shirt; sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and top buttons unbuttoned - revealing a finely carved collar bone. He wore no undershirt today, it was warm enough that he could go without one, though still cool enough (in his opinion) to dress like this.

He was making his way around the store, momentarily blocking Valentine's sight of the young man before going to the opposite aisle, the occult aisle. He looks rather dubious that whatever he is looking for would be here, but still, he looks through the C section for cacti, no luck, and then makes his way to G for garden. There are a lot of Gs, damn. His own warm brown eyes are large, looking over every title carefully, openly showing his thoughts, such as - with the quirk of an eyebrow - who the hell would write a book about mystical gazebos? Moving on...A sigh from him, and a murmur in his thick accent.

"Neva' gonna find eet."

Valentine’s gaze shifts the moment his line of sight is disrupted, leaping to a new task. It was as if because his line of sight was interrupted by something closer running across it, this something closer has become the new target and his gaze locks on to the young man and follows patiently.

Valentine’s blue eyes follow with a faithfulness that seems devoted entirely to this stranger, with an intensity that said he had a passion for someone he had never met before. Valentine looks at everyone like that, as if you are the most special person on the planet at any given moment. Everything he does, he does with a passion, every feeling he feels, he feels it with his whole heart. Don’t be misguided, while this means that he loves with his whole heart it also means he is capable of hating with his whole heart as well. Valentine doesn’t hate right now, nor does he love, he’s only watching.

Valentine isn’t one to be nosy, not really, but when the other speaks his interest is piqued.

“Can I help you find something?” He asks it as if he works there, as if he always asks any customer who looks lost if they need his assistance. His voice is like honey, smooth and flowing and hinting at the tell tale rasp that comes between the young adult years and true manhood. His tone is warm and friendly, inviting and soothing. I’m your best friend, I can make everything good.

Luckily the surprise jolt from the other's unexpected question didn't cause his ears to pop up - thank goodness. It did, however, startle him enough to make his head snap up. Cue momentary blindness as the other's good looks shine on him like the sun. After losing his voice for a moment, a fit of blinking, he stopped looking stupid when he gave a boyish grin back, chuckling slightly. And then perhaps to some, he ruined his appearance with his slow, slurred accent.

"Ahunno, realleh, jus' lookin' fer sommat tha' can 'elp meh wi' mah cactus...Itz been, hrm...actin' odd as o' late. Growlin' an' hissin' an' othah thangs an'...well...'ell if Ah evah 'eard of sommat lahk this on thuh Discov'reh channel..."

He pulled out a book with the word garden on the cover, went to index, searching for possessed or cactus, found neither, and returned the book with a sigh back on the shelf.

"So far...well, Ah 'aven't 'ad much luck on findin' an'thang..."

Valentine came out of his leaning forward position, lowering back onto the heels of his boots and taking his hand off of the shelf, the other hand coming out of the pocket. He turned, just slightly, on the heel of his boot, crossed his arms, or rather folded them easily across his chest, and leaned a shoulder against the shelf, cocking one knee out casually.

There is a lot to be said for body language and Valentine has manipulated the entire language to fit his perception of it. Crossing your arms over your chest is usually a closed of, guarded signal that meant go away. Valentine made you feel like you were being hugged without even being in his embrace. Crossing his arms was no more then a comfortable place to put awkward limbs through the duration of a conversation. His expression was open and generous, his eyes amused.

“Hissing cacti?” He chuckled softly. “Possessed is it? I’m not sure a Barnes and Nobel would carry a book on possessed plants.” He smiled.

Bri's eyes flickered back up to the other for a moment before going back down to the books.

"Yea, sound's odd, ain't it? Ah still cain't believe thas poss'ble."

His mouth pulled into a sort of thoughtful look. The only time before he'd ever heard of a hissing cactus, or any cactus that made noise, it was a horror story. The woman who owned it ended up having a hive of killer bees in it, but was able to call the police or fire fighters or something like that in time.

Or had that been a real story? He couldn't remember.

"Ah nevah heard of possession. Besides by demons, ya know? Growin' up Catholic an' all, bu' even still, Ah still cain't believe that'd be even possible."

He slowly stood up, pretty much finished with the G section. So that was a flop. He laughed softly.

"Ah dun think any normal bookstore'd have anythin' 'bout possession 'cept wi' stuff on like, say...Emily Rose'n stuff like tha' with th' Catholic church an' all...But Ah dun really know any not-normal bookstores."

Another sigh, and he placed his thumbs into his belt loops, pretty much in a sign of defeat.

Valentine looked interested in the way his eyebrows arched and the way he seemed to lean in towards the words.

“You’ve never heard of possessed houses? Dark spirits haunting?” He smiled. Valentine had a list of ghost stories that could make your shirt crawl up your back. He was the sort of young man who enjoyed the feeling of dread, the adrenaline rush of fear, he was the young man who sought a higher thrill and rented scary movies to watch at half past midnight in the dark bedroom alone.

Valentine straightened back up and continued to smile so openly. “Have you tried Jacobson’s? I find that they have a very wide selection of…” he pressed his lips together, as if searching for the word he wanted. His eyes shone with a continued smile that had left his lips. “interesting topics. You may not find a book for this possessed hissing cactus but I’ve discovered a very large section of books that are apparently claimed non-fiction which involve everything from spell books to possessions.” He smiled and winked at the mention of spell books. The wink seemed perfectly natural.

He nodded towards the shelf that the other had just abandoned. “No such luck?”

Bri snorted, giving the other the 'you know what I mean sort of look' accompanied by a wave of his hand.

"Ah know Ah know, all tha' nonsense. Though, wha' wi' all th' crazy stuff in th' world nowadays, tha' seems more an' more real every time Ah 'ear 'bout it."

Bri likes horror movies, never been much of a reader, though if it's a good book, he'll get into it. But he prefers watching horror movies with others simply because it gets scarier for him when there is a group of people screaming together. More fun too. He cocked his head, much like a dog, looking at the other with interest.

"Jacobson's? Ah think Ah've seen tha' place b'fore...Hmm, don' think Ah've been thur, no."

He waved his hand in dismissal at the book shelf, grin still on his face.

"No such luck at all..."

Whatever luck he was looking for. Cactus full of killer bees versus possessed cactus. It's pretty much a lose/lose situation either way.

I'd pick a possessed cactus over a killer bee infested one.

Valentine leaned away from the shelf and turned, his eyes scanning over the place they had been before. The young man was gone and no one else had taken up his position. He returned his gaze back to the other.

"I agree," he chuckled softly, "what with the way the world is going it seems more and more feesable for the ghosts and boogies to be real." He shook his head. "Could you only imagine the real trouble we would be in then?" He uncrossed his arms, resting one on the shelf beside him and leaning forward to reach out across the aisles with the other hand, offering it out to the other.

"Valentine Heart," he offered. Valentine Heart...such a creative name. Sometimes he could shoot his parents for it, sometimes he could kiss them over and over again. "And I'd be willing to bet that that is the reason you haven't found a useful book," he said when the other said he hadn't been to Jacobson's yet.

Yea, at least with the possessed one it'd be interesting.

"I could only guess that many would want to wipe them all out."

He laughed softly in agreement, shaking his hair out of his face. Valentine Heart, hm? Before Bri stopped his mouth from saying something rude, but he couldn't stop his mind from thinking...Sounds like a My Little Pony. He took the other's hand in his own strong yet gentle one, oddly soft despite his hard word. Then again, his hard work, while it consists using his hands, it uses oils as well, and he is working on the human body too. He had a grand total of four massages this morning, and then Shirley booted him out because there was nothing else to do and she didn't want to pay him overtime. He was sure of that.

"Bri Young."

Bri as in Bry, like in Brian. Mima called him Bree, reminding him of the cheese, but Momma always thought that was too feminine. Momma'd never allow a son of her's to be called Valentine, and she would not have any girly boys in her household at all. A call from her earlier this week, though, wound up with her practically shrieking that she was sure Kyan was gay, and Kellen was at least bi. Ah, she would freak if she found out his romps he's had with both genders. Anyways, enough about his sexuality and masculinity, he was confident in himself at that is all that matters.

A nod from him.

"Yea, seen it, nevah been in it. Guess it's cuz Ah nevah had a reason to realleh go into a bookstore. Always workin', ya know?"

My Little Pony...Gods, he was never going to get rid of that thought.

“Unfortunately you are probably correct. We stupid humans tend to kill that which we can’t possibly understand.”

Bri’s thought at his name is one of those times in which he could really take a long plank of wood and beat his parents over the head with it. Curse them. He might just whack Bri over the head with the same plank of wood for even entertaining the My Little Pony thought. Valentine closed his hand around Bri’s and his own grasp wasn’t soft. His hands were rough and they said that he worked with them in a harder, rougher fashion then Bri did. His grasp was loose and easy and reflected his personality: easy and relaxed and calm. His grasp said that you still have ten fingers, ten toes, and you are apparently still breathing and just as long as you meet those requirements then the world is still good.

Valentine was his mothers doing…his evil father had come up with the iceing to make the cake. Lovell. Valentine supposed that it hadn’t even occurred to them that the name may or may not have resulted in a gay son or a girly son, only that it amused them and that they liked it. Valentine wasn’t exactly a girly boy, he was pretty but not quite feminine. He wasn’t gay, though he’s toed the line many times and is certinally not a straight and narrow young man. He isn’t only a pretty face though, Valentine works like a heap big he-man.

“Bri as in Brian or just as in Bri?” he asked. He is not shy and he will ask.

“I see,” he smiled at Bri’s explination for not entering the book store. “I couldn’t pass the store up, whether or not I had the time,” he explained. “It was simply too interesting from the window. I’ve been going back since.”

My Little Pony...He’d get rid of the thought if Val beat him over the head with a plank.

Bri laughed, but it was almost nervous at the same time. We humans, uhm, yea. Well, the fact that this form looks just like a human counts, right? He's always wondered actually, if this human form is the natural form, or if somehow it was adapted or something. Evolution? Much too big of a thought for him, so Bri left it alone and never tampered with it. Too confusing. Bri'd let the other whack him over the head with a board if he ever said something like that, for it is terribly rude, no?

Bri's grip is pretty much like Valentine's, loose and easy going, but still firm. When it comes down to it, despite the genial personality, his handshakes still hold a touch of business-like behavior. An after affect of his father, and the men in his mother's family. The men of father's family were much nicer, and they'd actually give five year olds hugs rather than insist they shake their hands.

"If Mima hadn't named me, I'd probably be Brian, but nah, jus' Bri."

He cocked his head.

"Good books, then? Ah haven't read a good book in a while..."

Valentine smiled. "If my mima had named me I'd likely be Vincent Lucifer or Victor Lance or something, not Valentine Lovell." His shoulders shook with a light laughter and he released Bri's hand. His hand, his touch, had a way of feeling like an anchor to the world, like by letting go he was really releasing you to float away into space. Val's touch was his anchor to the world and he was not afraid to let go.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, some very good books. Some of my favorite in fact. It's a rare bookstore so it's shelves are full of things I've never even imagined before." He put his hand on his hip, his opposite elbow on the shelf beside him and let that hand hang down freely. "I'm not sure how good most of it's section topics are but it's Fiction and it's Sci Fi," he smiled and kissed his fingertips, "moi bein."

As soon as the other said mima, a full blow smile came on his face. Not many people knew who a mima was. One time someone said they didn't have a mima and Bri had to explain mimas were grandmas. But it was nice to not have to explain that for once. And the other obviously didn't mind being named something that sounds like it'd be attached to a pink, heart-covered plastic pony. Too much at least. He might not like that fact getting poked at, and being the wise person he is, Bri stayed away from that subject.

Bri also chose a leaning position, against the bookshelf, one arm up like the other's but holding his chic-store bags instead. The other was content to have it's thumb hanging onto the belt loop like some cowboy.

"Yew read a lot?"

He cocked his head, the other did look pretty young, in fact.

"Yew look t'be in college...yew go ter the University?"

It's a good thing Val isn't a mind reader, because the My Little Pony theme song is stuck in his head. Yes, he knows the song 'cause he's seen episodes. He did babysit girl cousins before.

Valentine would beat that song out of his head with a stick. Well, it's a good thing that Valentine isn't a mind reader but that aside he is, without knowing it himself, something of an empath. Somehow Valentine knows that the other is amused, he's always just called it an atuned intuition. At any rate, it's probably also a good thing that Valentine is a mild version of the phrase 'make love not war'. If Bri really were...loose enough with his tongue to let slip his pony theory, Valentine probably wouldn't be very upset.

"I read enough," he replied. "It's a past time, I supose, when I don't have any other little something to pass time with."

It was true, Valentine liked to read but not so much that his nose was always tucked away in the book. On occasion Valentine can be seen with a book balanced in one hand but he's more of a social creature then a solo reader.

"As a matter of fact," he replied, smiling, "I am." He'd only just enrolled into the University less then a year before, only a month after actually graduateing highschool. "Are you?" he asked, after all, the other didn't look much older then himself. In all truth, Valentine would probably have estimated him to be younger then himself, if he were the sort to assume or guess another person's age. As it is, he knows he isn't a great judge of age, therefore he keeps away from the habbit of guessing games.

Well, he won't have to worry about being compared to a pony any time soon. Unless he goes out to drink with Bri and gets hammered. But Bri can take a ridiculous amount of alcohol before he even gets tipsy - getting drunk is all in the mind, you see - and the other might be out before he can get Bri to open up what is going in his mind. And it looks like they have something in common. Bri is a very social creature, enough so that he doesn't care if he has no love life, considering he has enough 'friends with benefits'. In fact he prefers them because there are no ties of any sort. Scared of being tied down and not allowed to have friends, thanks to an Ex of his. My was she scary.

Anyways...

"Mm, thought so, yew look pretty young, if yew don' mind mah sayin' so."

He grinned and shook his head.

"Nope, finished mah time 'bout...three years ago, yea. Ah'm a massage therapist at the Balancin' Point down on Elm Street, evah seen it? An'ways, went into school right aftah Ah graduated, it took only two years, then Ah moved up 'ere."

Valentine smiled. “A massage therapist, eh?” He chuckled. “If I’d only put myself to use like that I could probably make some money. There is money in that business right?”

It’s a good thing that Valentine doesn’t make a habit of getting drunk either.

“I haven’t figured out what to do with myself. My father says it’s stubbornness, it’s driving my mother crazy, and to be completely honest, I’m starting to stress myself out. Have you ever irritated yourself before?” He smiled.

He nodded towards the exit. “I’m going to go get a drink, join me if you’d like,” he said. The way he said the words, it was almost as if it were a subtle demand, one that isn’t easy to decline because while the demand is there so is the charm and the silent ‘please’.

"Su'prisingly, yea, up here it's reeeeaaaalleh nice actually. Guess wi' all the people wantin' to stay young un' beaut'ful...or at least feel tha' way, there is a steady stream o' people comin' inter the spa."

Bri's never found it worth it, really. What's the point if you can easily have just as much fun - if not more - sugar high? Now that is what he likes to get. He chuckled and stood up straight, popping his back and then oddly enough, his sternum as he shook (more of wiggled) himself out.

"Ah think so...tho' it was more o' jus' drivin' Momma crazeh wi' my lack of worldly goals. Ah dun wanna be nuthin' amazin', jus' wanna have fun and do what Ah want, ya know?"

He blew some hair that was tickling his nose out of his face and then grinned.

"A drink? Well, sir, Ah'd be happy to accompany yew."

And sir isn't said in a mocking way. It's out of habit, you can suppose. He partially turns his body, ready to walk next to the other - partially follow him.

"'Ave any place in mind?"

Valentine smiled. "We live in a world of vanity, my friend," he agreed. He shook his head and turned to leave the bookstore behind, never mind that he was leaving empty handed and must have been in a bookstore for a reason, other then to watch a young man.

"Worldly goals?" he asked as they exited the store, pushing past a three toddlers and one very haggered looking mother. "Such as?" He wondered if he had any worldly goals. Maybe the thought that one day he should join the peace core was a worldly goal. Of course, being part of the peace core wasn't just for the peace core, that had selfish motive. He wanted to travel and take pictures and maybe do a little bit of good.

"Theres a good smoothie place on the way out of the mall," he offered. "With all of those interesting flavors like strawberry banana and kiwi."

"Indeed we do."

He followed slash walked beside the other, paying attention to the other and his surroundings. Bri noticed but didn't care really, that the other didn't have books. He does that all the time. Walks in there, looks around, gets distracted, leaves. Maybe that isn't quite what happened to the other, but that is what happens with Bri.

"Makin' a lot o' money, marryin' inter money, gettin' a good wholesome Christian wife, breedin' as many boys as possible, and settin' 'er up fer the rest o' 'er life."

Peace Corps is definitely not what she has in mind for 'worldly'. Worldly meant rich, worldly meant Gucci and Armani, and well, you get the point. Worldly means her having enough money to do whatever she wants. And she is terribly disappointed Bri didn't go into pro football either. He was offered the chance for a college position, but turned it down. She didn't speak to him for weeks! Bri raised an eyebrow at Valentine.

"Ah love mah mother, bu' it'z always been o'vious she loves herself ov'r anyone."

Grimacing, he rubbed his chin for a moment before snorting, shaking his head, and then grinning.

"Smoothies sound good ter me."

In Valentine’s case he often enters a bookstore, gets distracted, then leaves as well. More often, however, he enters, finds nothing that he wants and finds someone to watch, then leaves empty handed in any case anyways. He watched Bri follow and hesitated long enough on one of his steps to let Bri catch up to his side.

“Oh I see,” he replied with a chuckle when Bri explained what worldly would mean to his mother. My mother wants to see a lawyer or a doctor.” He looked sideways at Bri, “tendencies to get distracted and to stare off into space a very good doctor does not make.” He shook his head. “I can’t see myself being a lawyer either, I’m too agreeable. My father wants me to grow up, forget all of this college business, go about getting my licenses, become a contractor or a Forman and take over his company.”

He held out his hand towards one of Bri’s bags, “and I can’t see myself in the construction business forever either. Can I take one of those?” he offered.

“Ah, especially when it’s starting to get so hot outside,” he agreed about smoothies.

Now that Bri knew where they were going, he was able to walk beside the other comfortably. He did have to, though, get a little close to the other every now and then to avoid running into others. One young lady who passed by had a bit too much perfume on and his sensitive nose twitched and - grabbing his kerchief out of his pocket in time - and he sneezed into it. Eyes opening, he snuffled like a dog into the kerchief (like when you rub their nose and it tickles them), wiped his nose and mouth - all very politely without drawing attention to himself. Folding it so that the wet part was covered, he slipped it back into his pocket.

"Pardon me, wooo, dang, ladies don' really need t'wear tha' much smell good stuff. An' nah, thanks but nah, Ah can carry 'em, they ain't heavy."

He coughed, clearing his throat, then looked back at the other, smile back on his face.

"Doctor or a lawyer? Eesh, way too much stress fer me. Kellen wants ter be a doctor...Er 'scuse me, one of mah youngah brothers, a twin in fact. Mah Dad owns a business too...Kyan'll prob'bly take over, 'cause 'e wants ter be an architect and 'e can fit tha' in there with the construction an' all. Kyan's the othah twin. Me an' mah big brother Caelyn don' have the aspirations them two 'ave. If those two make it. Momma dotes on them bu' she also might be the one ter kill 'em if they get into anymore trouble."

He chuckled, shaking his head. Too many times has he gotten a call from her or the two, each complaining about the other. Momma wants him to convince them to behave and they want him to convince Momma to let them be how they are. He cocked his head at the other.

"You seem more like a single child kinda guy, or mebbe jus' one siblin', am Ah right?"

Intuition perhaps. Or maybe because those who grew up with bigger families always seem to either be very loud or very anti-social. Sometimes he's proven wrong, but he's usually correct.

Valentine chuckled softly. He hasn’t got a sensitive nose and he was left with a tingling sensation and a need to rub his nose with the back of his hand. “I know exactly what you mean,” he smiled. “A little bit of perfume is sweet but some women, hell, even some men smell like they have jumped into a bathtub of perfume and rolled around in it. It makes you wonder what smell they’re trying to cover up.”

He watched the other fold away his handkerchief and smiled that the other had such an old fashioned, old world feeling around him. It amused him to see old men carrying handkerchiefs, let alone a young man. He wasn’t poking fun, just intrigued.

“ Twins, wow. Your mother must have her hands full. And trouble makers to boot.” He grinned. “My mother threatens me every time I frustrate her. She swears I’m going to have three kids, all boys, and they are going to be just like me. Then I’m going to have a daughter and she will be just like her and I’ll appreciate my mother more.” He smiled. “Lord only hopes I don’t have any kids like me. I was a difficult one.”

He looked sideways at Bri. “You are correct,” he told her. “I’m the oldest. Just one sister.”

OOC: -grumbles- lost internet

Bri made a face.

"Tha's wha' they did back then, yea? Nevah took baths and perfumed themselves up so tha' they wouldn't smell."

He was proud that he remembered that. Actually, he had been watching t.v. earlier; History channel in fact. But at least he remembered it. So hush. As for the kerchief, it was something his Mima always had him carry. She always carried one, and so now he does too. In fact, all of them are hers, except for a few, like the one with Shen's blood. That was one of his own. He's very fond of Mima's kerchiefs. He chuckled, grinning back at the other.

"Ah don't know if Ah'm evah gonna have kids, despite mah Momma's wantin' me to. Ah was a pretty easy goin' kid actually, and while Ah love kidlin's...the thought of havin' mah own makes me mighty uncomf'table. Freedom issues, ya know? Ah guess Ah'm somewhat of a party boy by nature or sommat."

Knew it, and he nodded, proud that he guessed right.

"Ah see. Ahunno why realleh, bu' Ah've always been able t'tell if someone grew up in a big er small family. Ah myself grew up in a large, loud household o' seven, an' people who grew up in large households eithah act like mah big bro or the twins. Anyone who don', well they usually come from small families. Ah admit to havin' been proven wrong sometimes, bu' Ah usually get it right."

“Something like that,” he replied. “I couldn’t do it. Skipping a day without a shower damn well does it for me. I got nuts feeling like people can see the dirty on me.” He shook his head, reaching up and tugging at the bottom of his long dark hair, straightening one of the strands. When he released it it sprang back into an easy wave.

“I want kids one day, I think.” He shrugged. “I never gave too much thought over it really. I suppose if I had them I would love them more then anything but if I didn’t I’m not sure I would feel like I missed anything in my life.” He’d given it enough though once before when a girlfriend had wanted to get married at the ages of seventeen and eighteen. She wanted three kids, two dogs, and two cats. She’d had their futures planned, how perfect Valentine was for her husband slot. He decided he was sure it was only because he was convenient at the moment. He loved her but he couldn’t have married her. Valentine was smiling. “That’s what teen and early twenties are for,” he said happily. “playing games, wasting time, and partying.”

“I see.” He thought about it for a moment. “So kids from bigger families act out to..what? get attention? And from the smaller families you don’t?”

Bri visibly shuddered at the thought of going without a shower, ugh gross. He was sensitive to smell. He didn't mind being covered in dirt from working outside in a field or garden, or sawdust from helping out Dad, but he always appreciated the feeling and smell of being clean even more. He grinned at the other's pretty, long hair. His own was straight, absolutely pin straight. Girls back in high school would run their fingers through it and moan about how they wished they had such light colored, straight hair. He's done some crazy things with it, and every time he did, Momma would freak out to no end.

"Heh, Ah don' wanna think 'bout it too hard now. A fright'nin' ex o' mine has made me realleh not wanna get married or 'ave kids o' mah own. Ah might tho'. Who knows? Ah'm sure someone has said it, bu' ya nevah know what'll happen in th' future, ya jus' gotta try ter do wha's best fer ya."

He nodded, musing it over. Yea, that sounded about right. That's how he lived things. Day by day. Sure he planned things out for the future and stuff, but he knew things were subject to change at any time. He saw their destination, but figured the other probably already noticed. He turned back to the other and shook his head, grinning.

"Nope, well...SOME do. 'Cause in a big family, some kids feel attention depraved, 'specially if they are older and the 'rents are focusin' on th' younguns. Bu', also, you can be like mah older brother, very much anti-social 'cause you want some privacy, which there is usually little ter none in a large household. Specially if thur is littles runnin' around. People from smaller families seem ter be more in the middle than the extremes like people from big families. Bu' Ah've been proven wrong, bu' I won't hesitate ter say Ah'm usually right."

Valentine had a similar experience in high school in which they would moan about wanting his hair, why did men always have such nice hair. He would smile and reply that it was because men appreciated the appearance that they already had and cared for it only as much as was required whereas a girl dotes on her appearance until she has fried her hair or dyed it so many times that it had finally just died.

“Oh really? What happened, if you don’t mind?”

He noticed the smoothie shop sitting in the very last slot on this wing of the mall and was already anticipating the nice cool drink again.

OOC: wow, sucky post. I am really sorry.

(( OOC: Tis fine, dear, what you didn't type, I made up for with mine. BrooBroo talks like I do. Just telling EVERYTHING. Then realizing it and going OH SHIT they probably don't care anyway. ))

That is very true isn't it? Bri bit his lip, shaking his head.

"Ho-boy. Ah was her first 'onest ter goodness SERIOUS boyfriend. She wuz known to flitter around bu' she never got real serious. Fer some reason, though, Ah caught'er attention, and we started going out. Ah was like, well, whatever. We were both Seniors, so age didn' matter in this case. So whatev. Things were fine, ya know, basic call every day or so, and hung out every other weekend or sommat. Bu' then...she got like...obsessive or sommat. Mebbe it's me or somethin', who knows, bu' she started pretty much stalkin' me ter make sure Ah didn't cheat on 'er, callin' me every hour on th' hour, an' she planned out our future home, th' names o' our kids, an' weddin', and well...everythin'. Ah honestly thought it was jus' a phase or sommat, until graduation when she actually told everyone we were gettin' married this next month. Everyone was like, REALLY?! An' Ah was like...no...not really. By then Ah was tired of the constant calls, th' bein' followed, th' plans, th' bickerin', an' th' jealousy, bu' Ah didn't 'ave the guts ter tell 'er that Ah wanted ter end it. Ah didn' wan' ter 'urt 'er feelin's, ya know?"

He looked at the other with dead serious eyes as they came up in front of the store and he held the door for some ladies as they exited, smiling at them as they came by, then holding it open for the other as they entered. His expression went serious again.

"Well...ter end it all, lessay tha' things went downhill from thur. Ah broke up wi' 'er on th' spot after she threw a royal fit, and she kept callin' me an' everythin' and comin' over ter th' house. She was mainly th' reason I ended up givin' inter Momma's sendin' me up 'ere. Momma don' take no crap from 'er and don' let her come ter the house, nor does she tell 'er where Ah am."

He frowned slightly, pulling out his wallet.

"Ah feel like a coward, runnin' away, but Ah know Ah came up 'ere for a job, really, not runnin' away. Doesn' stop me from feelin' guilty 'bout leavin' 'er. Ah tried to explain tha' Ah cared fer 'er, bu' jus' not like that. She felt more like a little sister, ya know?"

He shook his head, deciding on the strawberry and banana smoothie, looking at the other with a sudden bewildered grin.

"Well, hell! 'Ere Ah am jus' tellin' you everythin', sorry 'bout tha'."

Valentine laughed out loud at his story. He blinked twice and smiled at the ladies leaving the store, then entered when Bri held the door open still for him to enter through. “I’m sorry,” he told him, “I am not laughing at you, just this experience, it’s so…” he waved his hands in circles trying to find that one word that fit just what this was. “Comical,” he said stepping to the side.

“I thought I had a rough time when I had to tell a girl who got serious that I loved her but not enough to marry her.” He shook his head, settling from the laughter and smiling. “It isn’t funny that it happened to you, just that it happened at all.”

Valentine waved his hand at Bri’s wallet. “Don’t worry about it,” he told him, “I invited you”

He was still smiling. “I know what you mean.” He said about feeling guilty. “But you know, things can only get so carried away before they become a real problem.” He stepped into the line. He laughed at Bri’s outburst. “No, no,” he waved his hands. “I probably enjoyed the story more then you enjoyed telling it.”

Bri was rather startled by the other's laughter, not sure whether to take offense or not, but decided against it. He was glad he did, because the other explained why he laughed. It still didn't make sense to Bri, but he nodded, figuring as long as the other wasn't being offensive, it was fine if he didn't understand the reason.

Bri was chuckling and then faltered slightly, looking at Valentine with a slightly pursed face, then sighed, tucking away his wallet.

"If ya say so. Thanks."

His smile was back. It wasn't that it was a guy buying something for him, it was anyone. It felt awkward at times. In fact, he preferred buying things for people instead of vice versa.

His smile brightened a bit, glad the other understood. He didn't talk about that whole experience much, but a few girls who heard it from another friend called him heartless and so on. He felt reeeeaaally bad after that. But after talking to Momma he felt better. Yea, she can actually be really nice when it comes down to it. She's just...not so nice when it comes to other things.

"Well Ah'm glad ya did. It can be rather awkward when you talk about past relationships."

Ho boy. And then when you accidentally spill about experimenting and stuff and the person turns out to be a bit homophobic - male or female, well damn. Gotta be careful.

It is too bad that Bri can't relax and just know that Valentine is certinly not homophobic. Actually, Valentine is on the same page with Bre and would probably understand far more then Bri expects him too. It should be easy to tell, though, since Valentine is so...not quite femenin. Valentine is beautiful in a very masculine but not sort of way. He takes so much care in his appearance that he must either be Bi, Metro, or gay. Since he isn't gay then he must be metro or bi but being either be probably isn't homophobic.

Valentine watched Bri tetter on the edge of whether or not he should let Val pay for the smoothie.

"It's only three buck...tops," he convinced, smiling when Bri put his wallet away.

"Not really. It's only awkward when you talk to people you know about past relationships." He chuckled and picked at a spot on the counter with impecably clean nails while he waited for the boy in the silly hat behind the counter the finish with the previous customers smoothie. "Every one judges but the only judgment that really counts is that of your friends. So in telling me," he stopped picking the counter and turned to look at Bri with a smile, "you aren't looseing anything at all."

(( Ahhh! Sorry dearling, that I haven't posted,my muse has been ditching me. ))

Too bad for that, but back home it is considered impolite to talk about such 'shameful' things. In his mother's opinion at least. Father is just as bad, but not vocally so and as long as he isn't told, he will keep quiet about things. Bri looks far more like your skirt-chasing, very straight, very dumb, Jock. To most at least. He doesn't look quite the same, with the preppy clothing, but that's the impression he gives to most. To others he strikes them as metro in his preppy clothes, but straight otherwise. The other doesn't look metro in his opinion, but he could be wrong. But he wasn't one to ask such private things, so he wouldn't ask.

It's kind of like the My Little Pony thing in his opinion. It isn't something that needs to be said.

"If you say so. I'll just have a strawberry-peach flavor. Whatever size you get."

He gave another laugh.

"That's a very wise thing. Of course my mother-" Rolling of the eyes. "-would say everyone's opinion matters and you have to fit in the little box the world puts you into. Sadly, mine was a bit too cramped so I crawled out. She doesn't know all the crazy stuff I've done, and I'd rather leave it that way."

Another grin and he looked at the other.

"She'll insist that I'm tainting the twins. I can't help it if those two are like crack heads with ADHD."

He smiled. "I say so." He turned to the boy with the very large zit on the end of his nose. Valentine always tends to make younger high school boys feel very uncomfortable. Its usually just his looks, though he doesn't have much control over the fact that his parents are beautiful and so he and his sister are too. "A strawberry-peach and a strawberry-kiwi," he told the lad, "both medium." He smiled and forked over the cash, dropping the change into the plastic tip-jar.

He turned around and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes well, so would my mother. I'm sure that's just the way parents are. She's so sure that first appearances count and then she turns around and tells you to just be yourself. Look and act the way you feel comfortable." He chuckled. "I always ask her 'what if the way I look and act aren't good for first impressions.' She usually gives me the mom-look and tells me that I know what she means."

If Val makes them uncomfortable with his untouchable-ness, then once again Bri proves to be the opposite with his big brother like nature. He nods at the worker, then turns his attention back onto Val. As if there is anyone else currently who could've caught it otherwise. He raised an eyebrow, smirk forming and holding up one tan, tapered finger and shaking it side to side.

"Ah, your mother sounds charming. Mine is the type to say, 'it doesn't matter what you want to be, you must conform, comfortable or not' kind of thing. I think it's the side affect of her growing up southern Baptist or the fact her parents were hard asses."

He should his head, rolling his eyes again at the thought of her unpleasant family.

"But whatever really. She is down home, and I have room to stretch my legs."

Long legs, in fact. He looked at the other.

"Your parents live around here or are you from out of the area?"

He laughed. "That would be my father. Not comfortable? Did I ask you if you were comfortable? He loves us but he's got a lot left over from his boot camp days. He was a drill sergeant." Which explains his very American-ish behavior, way of dress, and accent, or lack there of.

"My parents and my sister are here. Dad retired before Addie was born and this just happened to be where we were landed when he retired. Mom and Dad like, mom and dad settle, children stay." He shrugged. "Addie's known it all her life and I've known it all through my teen years so it's home. I've planned to go to the U since I was fourteen."

He frowned for a second. "My parents," he bobbed his head back and forth in a soso fashion. "I could leave and be alright. I couldn't leave Addie though."

"Ah'm sure mah momma'd be a drill sergeant, she's always been th' scary one. Though maybe that wuz jus' fer me and Cae...The twins aren't fazed one bit by her."

He chuckled.

"She gets so pissed about tha' too. What can we say though? Their generation is a ver' liberated sort."

He nodded, though. He's met a few military brats before, and a few of his relatives were in that category.

"Ah see, d'ya have a sister complex?" He grinned at the other, raising an eyebrow. "An' d'ya ever play the big protective brother part when annoyin' teenage boys come pantin' after her? If she is that age, that is."

If his sister was a pretty as he was, he had no doubt that there would be teenaged boys panting after her. Boys are horny, what can they say?

Valentine smiled. "Dad's not mean, he just has issues." He laughed. "Truth be told, I don't think he was ready to retire yet, he hadn't gotten tired of barking orders and scaring they newcomers. The fact that I ignore him and Addie isn't intimidated by him and toss in the fact that mom gives the orders, I think he's starting to feel a little bit inferior."

When the boy behind the counter returned from his counter on the wall, Valentine turned to take the smoothies from him. "Thanks," he took the straws and offered Bri his smoothie.

"Yeah, a big sister complex. She has me wrapped around all ten fingers twice." He chuckled. "I think we both had a mild seperation anxiety when I moved out of the house and across town to the dorms. I still pop in on her once in a while or get her from school. Just a few weeks ago she got mom to drive her over to the college to surprise me." He mimiked a kids voice: "surprise! I'm here! Now take me to the diner and buy me fries." He chuckled.

"She's fourteen. That feared age has come. Between pop and I the boy that does last beyond meeting us must be a brave or stupid soul." He chuckled again and stabbed his straw into the lid of the smoothie, offering the other straw to Bri as well.

Well, speak of the fashionable devil! Adelie happened to be visiting the mall at that very moment, and happened to be heading to a cute little vintage store that happened to have the smoothie shop on the way. So of course her beautiful brother caught her attention and she eagerly made a beeline right for him.

"Hey Val!" Addie greeted gingerly, raising her shopping-bag-laden arms and allowing them to fall back to her sides. Today she wore darkwash skinny jeans and pink hightops with black polkadots and pink ribbons for laces. Her teeshirt was bright yellow with an image of pink hot air balloons and stars. Adelie's long, chestnut hair was left draping down her back in seductive waves near the bottom but pin straight near the top. Around her wrists were various bracelets that resembled colourful candy.

She turned her attention briefly to the man with her brother, smiled shyly and greeted him as well. "Hello, I'm Adelie."

Bri's grin widened and he laughed. He'd always wished he had a little sister. Though he'd fear the twins influence on her if he had one, so maybe one younger than him but older than them. He loves the twins, but seriously, they can be little shit heads. He took the offered smoothie with a nod.

"Thank ya muchly."

He grinned.

"Fer some reason, it seems like no female is intimidated by 'er father anymore. A rathah rebellious female friend of mine is rathah like that. She fears the mother, though."

He cocked his head, remembering his own meetings with fathers and feared older brothers. Luckily he was known in his small town area and a few other towns as a young gentleman, a little deft at times, but polite and trustworthy nonetheless. He was about to say something when a young voice distracted him and he looked over to see a young girl, very pretty, come on over.

The resemblance between her and Val were uncanny, and she was obviously the much adored younger sister of Val. Aww, she was a cutie pie. Yes a cutie pie. She was much too young for Bri to think otherwise. She introduced herself and he smiled boyishly at her.

"Pleasure t' meet ya Miss Adelie, Ah'm Bri."

He had raised his hand in a gesture at to raise a hat, realized he didn't have one, and chuckled at himself, giving a bow of sorts. He looked at Val.

"Ah think yew have some sorta summonin' powers."

He looked at Adelie kindly.

"We were jus' talkin' 'bout 'ow yer brother an' yer father were protective of ya."

"Ah," he replied. "That is because they know that they have their daddies wrapped tightly around their pretty little fingers." He chuckled softly.

That voice wasn't just familiar, it was like knowing your own voice. After weeks of not seeing her, he could have picked that voice out of a crowd of a hundred people and he could summon her face to his mind equally as quick.

"Speaking of the devil," he said, almost simultaneously with Bri. The smile that slipped over his lips was the same smile, yet it was very different. The smile he had on his lips now lit his face from within. It was a smile of admiration and unmistakably one of pride that should only belong to a father.

"Addie!" he repeated her shout. He, like he always did and without failing, scooped his sister into a firm hug when she finished introducing herself to Bri. When he released her he unquestioningly and without offering to, took the bags from one of her hands into his own. "Where's mom?" He was sure the woman was somewhere, or had at least brought her daughter here in the first place. He frowned when another customer entered the store.

"Lets sit," he told them, moving away from the counter.