be my sweet honeybee, open

This was a dare.

If he wasn't set up with the challenge then he wouldn't be here right now. He accepted the challenge to go into the wilderness and grab a piece of proof then return back. Because he totally had plenty of time on his hands to mess around doing stupid challenges like these. Totally. His competitive nature got the better of him again. It was late in the morning or late in the afternoon (he honestly didn’t give a fuck about the time) when he was challenged to run off into the wilderness, grab proof that he was there then return back.

All he needed to do was take a picture on his phone then hit back to brag to the assholes who set him up with this deal. Maybe if he ran into a bear or some other wild life it would make his adventure all the more worthwhile. What he got instead was the complete opposite of what he had in mind.

“Aww, shit,” he murmured. All he saw was white-ish, silvery locks and his thoughts immediately went straight to the motherfucker he’d rather not see. What the fuck was Salem doing out here? “Hold on a second…” That was a chick’s voice. And she was talking to animals. By herself. Sense, this makes none. “Yo, I think the squirrel thinks you're nuts. It's checking you out pretty attentively~”

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“Probably not,” he said casually, “but we haven’t advanced that far enough to communicate with animals yet. Or evolution didn’t see fit to advance animals capacity to talk with us, so in turn, they could’ve had the chance to give us their two cents.” It was a very complicated process, yo. If animals started talking, and throwing in their opinions about humans, boy, would they have a run for their money. Or worse, they could easily take over the world. Squirrels would do that.

Whoa, up close and personal. Not that it bothered him but it did take him a little by surprise. He flashed a grin before raising his hands up gesturing a hasty attempt at peace.

“Easy there. I come in peace.” For the most part. “Name's Maverick, but call me Mav. Hi. How are you? You come here often?” Smooth set up there, boy...

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“It's cool, Channing. I don't discriminate.” He was a smartass but at least he was honest about that part. Everyone had a way they rolled. Some people, especially those of the female gender took up guy names–which was fine. Or like some dudes preferred to dress in drag to make them feel deep. Whatever rocked their boats then it was their thing.

“If you walked up on me in the middle of the woods talking to squirrels by myself, wouldn't you consider that just a little strange?” he asked. “By the way, I didn't call you that. Those words did not come out of my mouth~ I made an innocent observation of your furry companion.” Crimson orbs flickered up as she mentioned picking a fight. A bead of sweat formed on his temple. Well shit. Not how he intended the conversation's direction to go but ok.

He wasn’t throwing first punches. Nor was he exactly the gentlemanly type who'd be morally against fighting a girl - again, he did not discriminate - but he'd rather not. “I won't stop you if that's what you want, but I'd rather not go back to the city saying I picked a fight with a woman in the woods.”

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If one was going to be stupid then they sure as hell gotta be tough. Maverick prided himself to be a pretty durable nineteen year old of his generation. He spent many years busting his ass, stirring some mischief and breaking bones doing stupid shit most of his life. Why? Because it was fun! The freedom of it was exhilarating but that didn’t mean it was exempt of consequences. He accepted that as part of having a blast. And if he could weasel his way out of brawling with some random woman in the woods then all the better!

There were very few things in life did Maverick take pride in. This wasn't one of those cases. “My old man always told me if I was going to be a dumbass then I need to be tough ass too.” He nodded his head matter of factly. “Well, not exactly silent, as they have voices but you know what a mean.”

A brow arched up curiously. Did she just mention a manager? So she was contacted for something? “You're contracted? That's cool. What for? Wait, let me take a guess,” he cupped his chin, pretending to give it some thorough thought, “Bear wrestling? Kidding, kidding!” Though that didn't stop him from snickering. “Sounds like to me I'm not the only one who has an anal manager. Mine doesn't like it when I pick fights - especially with my bandmates.”

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Maverick whistled himself impressed. He had an idea as what she made a living using violence as her source for income but cage fighter was actually pretty cool. He thought about other occupations he could’ve gone for. Professional motorcycle racer or start taking his parkour hobby on a more serious level. Though something struck a chord – both metaphorically and literally speaking – with becoming a musician.

“Guitar. Melodic or support guitarist, I guess you'd call it,” he preened. “You could say I'm the black sheep of the group and indeed, I don't do much to try to improve my image. Though that doesn't really matter. I joined the band because I love playing and so god forbid, I don't play.” He knew a majority of the band hated his guts. That was perfectly fine. The albino child wasn’t there to play Nova Athenian Idol game. Playing the guitar was a pleasure for him. One of the only things he took sort of seriously.

“Bet it gets pretty bloody behind the cage, huh? Knocked a couple of teeth out before too?”

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“If it is an albino thing, it's kind of ironic, isn't it?” he snickered at the albino joke. Black sheep, albino individuals. “but hey, birds of a feather over today~ I came out here on a dare but didn't expect to find another out here. I'd say it was awesome to meet you.”

After listening and noticing the two fake teeth, he nodded his head. “Yeah, I can understand that.” He enjoyed hearing about scars with stories. Especially when they're interesting as the tales that Channing explained. Some tales didn't get that kind of recognition from people being stupid and getting themselves hurt. The snowy-haired teen slid his long-sleeve up to show a scar that was showing signs of fade.

“Before I was contracted to my current band, this was from fighting with the drummer of my last. It was stupid looking back at it now, and you can laugh too - but his girlfriend liked me better than him. Didn't feel it until after we got pulled apart.” Going against what was right, yeah the consequences of it sucked but the rush of feeling free the moment before he’s pulled back down. That satisfaction in itself was a wonderful feeling. “They say violence isn't always the answer, but damn, it sure is the funnest one to take~”

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“What can I say?” he preened proudly, “I'm a natural entertainer. I have plenty more surprises up my sleeves, and if one of them is boring then shit, I'd think I'm loosin' my touch.” Channing was pretty awesome. Definitely someone he could hang out with for a second time. Or third or fourth. Hell, he had a good feeling that this was the girl he could hang out any time during the day. Preferably during times when they wouldn't be busy with their work.

“Flexibility is one of my charms if I dare say so myself.” And he did quite confidently. “Say, maybe one of these days, you can teach me a few moves you learned while fighting in the cage? I mean, I'm not a natural like you, but I pick up fairly quick.”

He had absolutely no problem learning some awesome moves from a woman fighter. His parents would nag at him to stop being a lazy butt so why not get his exercise training in other fields? Aside from parkour, which was already a talent he had... almost perfect. Almost being the keyword here.

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