as written by Dashmiel and Abraxas
Ragenard was lounging amidst a circle of tossed up packing boxes and clothes, about to light up a slightly bent cigarette of undeterminable age when his nose caught Jean-Pierre’s scent.
“Yo, gramps. Have a most succulent fag. Probably as old as you are” exclaimed Ragenard as he shook the old pack of cigarettes towards Jean-Pierre, gesturing for him to take a seat on a nearby chair.
Jean-Pierre raised a hand in front of his face and waved it back and forth, as if to brush off the gramps comment. With another nod, this time an appreciative one, he reached the same hand foward and plucked a cigarette from the dated pack that had been held out in front of him. A lighter was procured from his back pocket, and the tip of said cigarette was lit as he sat down in the seat previously gestured to.
"I have to say, I've had a vast number of fags in my day, in more ways than one, but I would ever describe any of them as 'succulent'. Though I suppose it's definition, 'full of juice', wasn't far off in some cases, if you catch my drift."
A pause, then a slow exhale of smoke.
"I'm talking about jizz, so enjoy that visual."
Ragenard couldn’t help but to snort at Jean-Pierre’s antics, the pressure of the night momentarily forgotten as he took the time to light his own cigarette and take a few quick drags.
“I hope I live long enough to say shit like that to some pup one day” Ragenard remarked between puffs as he got up from his cardboard nest, “Hell of a night, huh. You seem alright though, I assume your usual shield of whores kept you out of the fray, huh?” he added with only a small hint of reproach.
"You assume correctly, Rage. I'm sure you don't approve, like always, probably want me to be out there on the front lines, huh. Fighting with you guys. Using my old man prowess to strike down our enemies for glory and whatnot. I prefer my whores. They're warm. Plus they don't war with other whores pointlessly. If they fight over anything, it's who gets to go another round with me between the sheets."
Ragenard took a few silent drags of his cigarrette before addressing the old wolf with seriousness in his voice.
"You've earned your way to your eccentricities, old man. I certainly can't fault you for them, not with your history. But things may get hard soon, and if push comes to shove I hope the Beast of Lemaitre is there to watch my back" proclaimed Ragenard as he got up and picked up a large box from the floor, making his way to the door. "No whores for a bit, gramps. I have to get back to the others, we can talk more later" he added as he made his way back to the others.