An Evening Walk (open)

[Ichabod]

Ichabod thought about the notion of selling his fur for coat materials, it was an interesting thought and he was kind of surprised that he had not thought of it years ago. "That is a very intelligent idea and it would help with the heating bills in the winter." It would also assist in the large amounts of meat he packs away in his freezer at his place. He nodded and took a long pull of his beer, "I would be willing to do that but I had already built my coat for the season, I would have to start the preparations for that next year, probably collect the shedding fur once the weather begins to warm up in the spring." He mind was full wrapped around his new idea while he was eating his hefty steak.

[Azazel Mustisson]

He smirked. "I do occasionally get good ideas in the right context, and the right environment." He sipped his drink and went back to devouring his meal, though eating more of the wings since he wanted to savor the steak more. The pile was growing larger now, and somewhat formidable. To the point that the barkeep came by and asked if he wanted another order of wings, turning to the man and asking if he wanted another steak as well. Azazel was quiet a moment and then grinned. "Sure. And another filet while you're at it." He looked like a cat that ate the canary, and the barkeep walked away, though the youth took a minute to watch him leave, before turning back to his own meal. "Now if only I can get a decent looking fellow to model for me, then I'd go and end bar fights more often." he smirked, finishing off his wings and wiping the extra sauce off his fingers and around his mouth.

[Ichabod]

Ichabod watched as the boy eat one wing after another, this kid was officially a champ. For the kid to eat so much so fast and still be so small, models would kill to be like him. Ichabod could down way more but it was astonishing to see sure a small human eat that much. But that wasn't it, he asked for more. He looked at the bartender and raised his eyebrows to him, "Ill take another steak, if ya don't mind."

He continued eating his steak with a similar ferocity as the boy, he couldn't be shown up by someone smaller than him. It just wasn't right. His competitive side started to shine through, he called for the bartender and asked for a double order of wings for himself.

[Azazel Mustisson]

He raised an eyebrow at the second order, swallowing before speaking. "Feeling a bit hungry there?" he smirked slightly, almost sensing the competition. He slowed in his eating, , allowing the waitress to bring their next course of the meal over, finishing the last bit of wings and pushing the pile of bones away from himself. He wiped his mouth, clearing away the last bit of sauce. His hands resting on the table, fingers moving slowly, like a gunman getting ready for an old western shoot-out. He smirked, knowing the man wanted it.

[Ichabod]

Ichabod growls happily in the back of his throat, "Bartender did the that the meal was on the house." He snickered in remembrance of the weakling thug from just moments ago. His wings finally showed up and watched as the boy readied himself ask if to accept the challenge, "You really wanna go?" teasing the cocky boy. He quickly finished up his steak setting the plate aside and pulling the wings closer. "Next meal is on the loser." knowing that he was going to win. This kid is dealing with a 500 year old shifter, we can eat.

This kid was fun to be around, so he was hoping to come across him a few more times throughout his lifetime. He wiped his mouth and put his hands on the table. "We start in 3...2...1."

[Azazel Mustisson]

He didn't wait for him to finish saying one before he dug in with new found hunger. The kid had a high metabolism, but he also knew real hunger, and he practically stuck a wing in his mouth and sucked it clean before moving on to the next, hardly bothering to chew before he swallowed. Having no gag reflex helped with that. His face was becoming covered in sauce, but he didn't care at this rate.

[Ichabod]

His eyes widened and then narrowed into slights as he saw the kid start before he said go. The little cheat, he began to grab the ends of the bones and ripping the meat off of them one after another, once his own was full of four or five wings he would swallow easily and continue on. Though he had been late to the party he wasn't trailing behind more than half a wing. After his fifth mouthful he swallowed and burped relieving some blocked air stuck around the meat. He continued on with as much ferocity as before if not more.

[Azazel Mustisson]

He didn't even stop to breath, just breathing through his nose the bed he possibly could. He kept eating, seeing the wolfman catch up to him, he started going at it two at a time. No way was he going to lose to this old timer. He didn't even feel full or uncomfortable as he ate, and before too long the last 4 wings lay before him, and he grabbed another two, sucking them down as fast as he could, now just dropping the bones before him. He was going to make it!

[Ichabod]

Ichabod was seeing the boy getting faster and faster. He would not be shown up by some kid so he pulled out his secret move. He began taking the wings in between each of his fingers and ripping the cooked flesh from the bones completely disregarding the large chunks of cartilage he was going to be eating later. He never enjoyed cartilage so he just thought about it being an extra crunchy bit on the wings. But with using his this technique he was now pulling ahead of the boy thought it was only by a half a wing or so.

The bartender and a few of the customers were watching as these to hunger-some heathens were destroying there wings like pigs. Some looked like they were going to be sick from the sight of how much was being ingested all at once.

[Azazel Mustisson]

Only a few left. Seeing the man pass him, he shoved the remaining wings in his mouth, sucking as hard as he could, and pulled all the bones out, dropping them right in front of him on the plate, before leaning back and belching. His face was a total mess from the sauce, and the people unfortunate enough to be watching with weak stomachs left to the restroom, possible to vomit. The bartender kept his distance, as though afraid if he approached them now, he might be devoured by the likes of them.

Azazel glanced to his companion to see how the contest turned out, and if his companion was still alright. He was somewhat full, but not one to waste food, he took a long drink from his soda, and wiped the sauce away, before going back to cutting into his steak, much more slowly and controlled.

[Ichabod]

In a last ditch effort Ichabod started to move faster but wasn't quite up to snuff as the boy threw down his last bone as Ichabod finished pulling the meat off his last bone. With a celebratory yell, nearly letting the last bite of meat shoot out of his mouth, he tossed the cleaned bone aside and clapped his hands to the kids win, swallowing his final bite.

The kid was indeed good at eating but wings were nothing but snack foods for him. Something to savor even if it is for just a moment. With his higher than normal metabolism he would burn through all that he had ate by morning.

He looked at the wall clock over the bar, "You are good but we gotta get you back to the dorm before there is real trouble to he had." It was getting to be much later than anticipated. "Time flies when having fun, as the saying goes."

[Azazel Mustisson]

He smiled at the applause, and rebelled in it for a moment. "Thank you, thank you. I'd like to thank the Academy, and my parents." He said sarcastically, before finishing his drink. At the mention of being out late, he sighed, but resigned. He knew he had to go back, and besides, he had assignments to finish up.

"Alright, let me just get a box and we should go. We should do this again though- it's been fun." He smiled genuinely. It was true enough, he didn't have hardly any friends, and not entirely out of choice either.... He hailed the barkeep for a box, and put the steak in it for later.

[Ichabod]

Ichabod laughed as he scripted the lines the academy award winners do. "Okay, smart ass. You get packed." He motioned to the bartender to get his attention, "A box, please." The man snapped to attention, he was looking a little dazed from there eating competition. He grabbed the boxes and handed one to his new found friend. He laughed to himself and began packing up the remaining food in his box. He could pass it off to one of the homeless on the way home. Ichabod hated to waste food even if he didn't have to pay for it.

"It was fun but the next time we meet, lets hope I don't have to carry you out of the forest." He pulled out his phone once more and called the taxi service to let them know that they were ready to be picked up. The service was expecting his call since he told them to wait for them.

[Azazel Mustisson]

He smiled at that last part, packing away his own meal, before closing the box and sitting back in his chair. Strange, he found himself thinking about the drug-addled boy who was his only rival. In a strange fugue, he wondered if the boy himself had any friends of his own. He quickly dismissed the sentiment.

"You won't need to worry about that. Although, I might, even if only so I can pet your fur." The snarkiness kept on coming it seemed. But he gave in and sighed, knowing he needed to finish up work before the morning, and that he wasn't going to break his streak of being the "model" student that his instructors placed on him.

[Ichabod]

Ichabod released a bellowing laugh and then quickly stopped, "You might lose a hand." He said jokingly. He smirked. He waved for the boy to head out the door with him. The taxi had arrived just as the door opened. "Get back to the school and keep out of the forest and if you need to sunbath do as normal people do and just break into room of he dorms." He said jovially.