(no subject)

[bushikatagi.livejournal.com]

[Sprawled across your front step, asleep.]

Comments

FFFFF --- <3!

[bushikatagi.livejournal.com]

[Sorry, Louis, Lestat - Uh, Algren is a little too content snoring noisily against your floor, flopped onto his front as he is, to be very apologetic. Not that he would be. His default position in any given situation tends to be a mixture of drunken belligerence and a cocksure attitude, so it's very likely that his response wouldn't be a, "Sorry for the inconvenience."]

[deathmerciful.livejournal.com]

[Louis let loose a huff. It would not be in his best interests to have a degenerate lying on his stoop in such a manner, should company call upon his home during hours which he could not possibly answer... or if he were engaged in activities such that would befit an immortal such as he.

Also, the man smelt quite poorly.]

Come now, chere, I would do you a great disservice to leave you here for the theives and unsavory kind of the night.

[In a blink he swooped down and had him over his shoulder with very little effort. There was still many hours before daylight and would hope to rouse the intruder before the sun rose. He intended to lay the man on the seater in his front parlor.]

[bushikatagi.livejournal.com]

[For Alrgren's part, he doesn't really stir and is certainly in no position to put up any sort of a struggle as Louis hauls him bodily over his shoulder, only managing a miserable, incoherent groan as it presses uncomfortably into his stomach. Something does fall from his numbed grip though as he's brought inside: A pewter hip flask, empty by the hollow clatter it makes as it hits the floor, rank with the smell of whiskey.]

[Not just a casual drunk then...]