The Name's Terrence

Successfully guessed Justin's password. Nice.

So... yeah. I'm Terrence. Terrence McCleary.

I made it to the hangout today. As expected, Justin was there. Good thing, too, as I needed to talk with him.

He was in the training area, swinging around his training weapon. What I refer to as a "training weapon" is actually a barbell with about 25 pounds of weight on one end. The reason Justin can wield his scythe so well is because he swings all that weight around on a regular basis. Actually wielding something like that in a real fight would get him killed, but it's good for working out his muscles and getting him used to the feeling of wielding a pole weapon that's weighted on one end.

"Hey, Reaper," I greeted him.

"You," he replied, continuing his training.

"How you feeling?" I asked, making my way over to a rack of bowling pins we keep around for target practice.

"Oh, you know," he said. "Desperately trying to ignore my emotions by working out a bunch."

"Naturally," I replied.

I grabbed one of the bowling pins and threw it towards him. He swung his barbell quickly, knocking it aside. I continued to throw the rest of them at him, and as usual, he managed to block them all. Almost got him with a few of them.

"Strike," he panted, letting his barbell slide from his grip and hit the floor.

"Oh, please," I smirked. "That was a spare at best."

"Up yours," he said, grabbing a water bottle and splashing some of it on his face before taking a swig.

"Where's Ciel?" I asked.

"Packing," Justin replied.

"So she already told you?" I asked.

"That the police haven't found any incriminating evidence, but there's still a serious risk?" he said. "Yeah, she may have mentioned something about that."

"Maybe slaughtering all those people with a scythe was a bit much?" I said.

"Coming from the guy who tossed a cocktail into the den?" He replied.

"Fair enough," I said. "Subtlety is not our strong suit."

"That it is not," Justin sighed.

"So who's leaving first?" I asked.

"Ciel's planning to leave late tonight," Justin said.

This isn't the first time we've done this song and dance. Whenever there's a risk of being caught by the local police, we bail from town. Never together. We pick  new town, then we all leave at separate times, taking separate paths, then we meet up again in the newly selected town. Timberwolves are reckless, and we generally don't fear death, but we're not dumb enough to get caught by cops.

"I've got most of my shit packed already," Justin said. "Speaking of which, can you handle my bags for me? Can't exactly carry them on my bike."

"Yeah," I said. "My vans big enough. Should I pack up all our training stuff?"

"Sure," he said. "Let's a good sparring match in first, though."

"Good idea," I said.

I picked up a padded escrima stick, and Justin picked up his sparring scythe, which was basically just a foam bat and a bo staff duct taped together. We stood across from each other and started sparring. Justin's good with a scythe, but I know most of his tricks, so I can avoid them for the most part.

"So when do you plan on leaving?" I asked him.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he said. "Already talked to my landlord. Got my deposit."

"Alright," I said. "I swing by in the morning to grab your stuff.

"Help yourself to the fridge," he said. "I'll have to throw that milk away before I leave if we don't finish it off."

"Sure thing," I said.

He finally caught me off guard and scooped my legs out from under me, sending me sprawling to the floor.

"You know your supposed to slap out when you fall backwards, right?" he asked.

"Shut up," I said, sitting back up. "Good match."

"Thanks," he said.

We heard a door creak open and Ciel's voice call out.

"I saw your vehicles here! What are you idiots up to?"

"Getting some sparring done," I said.

"What brings you here?" Justin asked.

"Getting the rest of our stuff," she said. "Terrence, you've got the toys, right?"

"First of all," I said. "They're not toys, they're training weapons. And yeah, I'll take care of them."

"Good," she said, opening the mini fridge. "There's still water bottles here! Hurry up and drink this shit!"

She removed all the water bottles and left them on the floor as she unplugged the fridge. She then started dragging it outside to her car.

"She's in a good mood," Justin said, grabbing a couple of the water bottles and tossing me one.

A couple minutes later, she came back in and started folding up the cheap table and chairs we keep here.

"So," I said. "I had an idea."

"What is it," Ciel sighed.

"Well, we're leaving town," I said. "And it's getting pretty close to the holidays..."

"What are you going with this?" Ciel asked.

"Why don't we meet up at Sal's later?" I suggested. "Get some drinks? We haven't been there in a while."

Sal's is an inn/bar. A servant bar. There are several like it. It's a place where servants like us can go to relax. Take a load off. Get shitfaced on delicious beverages. Now, getting groups like Timberwolves and Slenderproxies together may seem like a bad idea, but Sal has a very strict "no fighting" policy. One which he is very much able to enforce.

"That sounds good," Justin said.

"Fine," Ciel said. "Wednesday night."

"Alright," I said.

We then went over our plans and went back to our respective homes. Though, I guess they won't be our homes for much longer. I'll miss this place...