1965-04-17 - Petropolous Senior
Summary: Arlo meets Lamont and Lambert on their way to bail out Lambert's dad.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
lamont lambert arlo 

Arlo leans on the wall outside a police precinct. He looks very uncoplike. He's in jeans, a striped t-shirt, his hair a little too long for a cop, not to mention he's too young. Maybe it's just a convenient wall and he happens to be in the neighborhood. He's got a cigarette between his lips, which he plucks out to blow smoke, his head tilted up to look at the sky. For someone so young, he gives shockingly few fucks.

Lambert is trotting along quite worriedly. He has stopped to change outfits to look good at the precinct - jeans, a white button up shirt, and a blazer with a pin in the lapel. He even has a hat on, though that might mostly be to hide his ears and eyes. Face washed, he is almost at hand-wringing point - he just does NOT want to have to deal with lunacy today. Alas? Lunacy is his.

And Lamont is his usual cool, patrician self. He's in one of his very good, severe suits - the kind that whisper quietly of wealth, rather than shouting of money. He's in Lambert's train, his own hat already in hand, expression grave.

Arlo glances over, and he smiles slowly. "Hey, it's Lambert." He's friendlier than he was at the restaurant, but then again, he's significantly higher than he was at the restaurant. "What's the matter man? If it's got you running for the cops, it can't be good." He glances to Lamont coolly, and there's a flicker of wariness. Even stoned, he's on alert for stranger danger.

And that is one dangerous stranger. Lambert is clearly with him, though, and the satyrling rubs his temples slightly. Even his tail is tucked away "Should you be smoking outside here?" asks Lambert, who's understanding of law is tenuous once health and safety is out of it "Oh, hello, anyway. Er. Earle, was it? This is my good friend Mr. Lamont." Also known as the Shadow. Lambert says "…er. Well. We've come to bail someone out."

He definitely has an air of it, despite the good tailoring and the quiet manner. There's a polite inclination of his head to Arlo. "Lamont Cranston," he says, gently, offering his right hand.

"Arlo," he says, giving Lambert a tic of a smile, there and gone. "What kind of miscreants do you know that you gotta come bail then out?" he says, not without humor. He plucks his cigarette from his lips with his left hand and shakes Lamont's hand with his right. Still wary, giving him a once-over like a thief casing a joint. Maybe he's got a guilty conscience. "Arlo Avery."

Lambert trots along quite avidly…then pauses "Ah. Hmm. Well. It's a family member," he says, more than a little awkwardly, though he does side-eye Lamont sharply. Be careful, Lamont. No devouring the young! "It'll just be a fine, at least, I hope. I mean, presumably no one wants to mess with consulates…"

"I'm sure it won't come to that," Lamont's voice is smooth as polished marble. "A pleasure, Arlo," he says. There's none of that predatory note Lambert has heard before. But there's something in the gray eyes….

Arlo studies Lamont's eyes for a moment. There's a hardness in his own, too hard for a youth so young. Still, he manages a crooked little smile. "Hey," he says. Then he takes another drag off his cigarette. "A family member? And here I thought you were the wild child," Arlo tells Lambert." He arches a brow at the mention of consulates.

Of all of them, it is the monster that seems the least dangerous. Lambert pauses, then he says to Arlo "Er, actually, I'm probably the least. You know. 'Wild' one. Of everyone. I get arrested less than anyone else does. I mean, unless I get really drunk. Look, ahhh. Hmm. Lamont? We're dual citizens - Greece and the US, so while a consulate isn't accurate, maybe I can play it off a little before packing him off to Athens until he cools off…?" He seems to assume that Arlo is going to come with them as he starts to head into the station.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Lamont asks the satyr, lifting a long hand to pause them. "Play it off how?" Now there'a a flicker of concern, and he's halted in his tracks.

Arlo flicks the butt of his cigarette away, exhales a plume of smoke, and falls into step with Lambert. It's the excuse he's been hoping for, a reason to head into the station to maybe catch a glimpse of a certain homicide detective. "I gotta see this," he says.

Lambert says to Lamont, pausing himself "I don't want him to have to go to Court," he admits "I want it to look like trouble, and for us to have money for fines, and…it's just that I don't think he'll be able to handle court properly. I mean, he can probably focus if he has to, but all his focus is on running his farm, and…and…" Lambert's tail twitches nervously. Then he just nods to Arlo, as if expecting support…before inside he goes!

That makes Lamont click his tongue. Well, he's got certain abilities that'll help. "I think I can make this go away," he says, softly. "I still have some favors owed me….and if worst comes to worst…." He can pull the Jedi mind trick.

Arlo flicks a glance at Lamont over his shoulder. Definitely stranger danger. "You good at doing that?" he asks in a neutral tone. "Making things go away?" Once they're inside the precinct, he looks around, just taking in the place, looking at the suits. He's a little on edge. It's possible he's seen the inside of a place like this under less fortunate circumstances.

Lambert heads to the receiving desk and says that he has to pay for a Mr. Petropolous, who is currently being held there. While Lambert himself seems a bit unclear on the difference between bail and fine, eventually the man on the desk explains the sort of trouble his father was causing. Noticably, Officer Shannity seems to keep staring at Lambert's head, as if looking for large, curling horns. And down. But those are normal shoes.

"He didn't seem to be dangerous, once we worked out he's a mutant," explains the officer, coming out around the front and gesturing to the small group "But there's a church that's convinced Mr. Petropolous is a devil, or something, and they want us to hand him over…"

"When needed," Lamont says, with a sidelong glance, before they enter. Then he's following the satyr up to the desk, "Well, they hardly have any claim on him," Lamont says, after introducing himself. "But we are here to take care of bail," he says, simply. "And I'm sure we can make sure he causes no further trouble, officers."

Arlo frowns. "They got an issue with muties?" he says. "Maybe that's their problem and not ours." His gaze skims, but briefly. It would be too obvious to look for too long. Besides, now that this church has been brought up, he seems like he might be looking for trouble now instead of a detective.

"They won't get anywhere near him," Lamont assures Arlo, as the cop bustles off to get the necessary paperwork. "I consider him a personal responsibility, so to speak."

"They have a problem with devils and demons, and things that scare them," says the cop, coming back with the paperwork "And he looks right on for it. Except no red skin. When he turned out just to be a lush from Texas…though I guess if the devil came from anywhere, it could be Texas. Who's going to fill this out?" Lambert glances at Lamont, unsure, and then he sasy to Arlo "…er, yeah. Mutants. Of course. Erm. Mutants."

"Because it's not his fault," Arlo says, "the way he was born. They have no right to judge." He pauses, then admits, "Being from Texas is a personal choice, though. I got no excuse for that." He shoots Lambert an apologetic look. He does have a point though, doesn't he? Texas? He steps back from the paperwork. Whoever's supposed to fill it out, it's not him.

Lamont gestures for Lambert to take care of the relevant paperwork. He's not there as a lawyer. "No, no devil," Lamont says, with a sigh. "The devil's never that obvious." Says the man who has had the devil pour him a drink and been none the wiser.

Lambert has only ever been ignored by Lucifer - he has neither power nor influence, and while he does manage some other charms, they are harder to tell in a crowded night club full of literal luminaries. Lambert takes a pen from the officer and begins filling out details, and Lambert says to Arlo "Well, I guess I couldn't even make my restaurant work in the capital there…New York is easier. But I was born there. Ammmn." He frowns, and makes a good attempt to be neat with his writing. At the box saying 'Mutant' or 'Standard', Lambert hesitates, then ticks 'Mutant'. Then he uncertainly looks back at the box and sighs.

"Yes, you came to New York," Arlo says amiably, and he claps Lambert on the shoulder, though his touch doesn't linger long. "A good choice." Then he eyes the ticked box and says, "Nothing to be ashamed of, man." He lowers his voice, looks around, and says, "This will all be over soon, you'll get him back on a plane or whatever, and he'll go home. Don't sweat it. Family exists to make us pull our hair out."

"There's no category for 'mythical being'," Lamont comments, under his breath. He's got a faintly sour look - none of this sits well with him. Hopefully his strength of will will be enough to keep Lamb the Elder under control long enough to get him home.

"I know," says Lambert crankily to Arlo "I mean, I would…" as Lamont speaks, he coughs, and he nods a little, and then he shakes his head, as the cop scans down, and then peers in at Lambert's eyes, and says "Okay, you're his son. I guess it goes in the family. Come on - he's been having a great time. For some reason. I think he likes being somewhere -"

Being somewhere with echos and the abililty to cheerily sing. Down to the drunk tank cells they go, and one can already hear the Greek tune as one moves down the stairs. Lambert Senior's voice is good, tuneful, and sweet, and no one is telling him to shut up. The Greek words are almost cheerful, crooned softly, and the cop says to Lambert "Can you keep him out of trouble?"

"That's your dad?" Arlo says, and he whistles lowly. "I wish my dad was cool." He pipes down then. Lambert is getting cranky, and on some level he understands that, in Lambert's shoes, he too would be mortified. He glances at Lamont. Can Lamont keep the old man out of trouble? Lamont is still a suspicious unknown to the youth.

"I will keep him out of trouble," Lamont promises, on a sigh. And he has sworn not to sleep with Lamb's father. No matter the temptation a senior satyr might present. Silver foxes, and all that.

Silver foxes, indeed! They make their way into the cells, and the cop pauses, and glances between Lambert and the Greek man with curly black hair and long horns. The man himself jumps up and says "Lambert!" brightly. He does, admittedly, look more than a little drunk, himself, his eyes wide "Oh, hello Lambert - we should go back and have another beer, son -"

Son. He looks about Lambert's age. The problem with Immortals is that even when their children age, they age more slowly, and Lambert is much more human than his father. Lambert sighs heavily, and he says "I'm here to get you out, dad," to him "How about we just go somewhere quiet - where's your shirt?" He is, after all, just wearing pants. "Lost it at the steeple," says his father brightly.

Arlo whistles lowly and murmurs, "Woah." This is his first encounter with the mytical aside from Lambert, who is so well-mannered by comparison. "How can that be your dad? He's not old enough." He made no promise to not sleep with anyone's dad, though he is already infuated with someone else. That might just save him. Poor Arlo, he looks tentatively charmed. Still wary of strangers, but still.

There's that dimple flashing into existence at the corner of Lamont's mouth, almost never seen. "Mister Petropoulos," he says, coming forward, extending a hand. Exerting all his own charm, it seems. "We've come to get you out of here. There are so many more pleasant places you might be." …..is he *purring* at the elder satyr?

"What! No whoa! That's my dad," hisses Lambert in Arlo's ear as Mr. Petropolous stands up. And _up_. Unlike Lambert, he is very tall, and muscled like a true olympian should be. Lambert has the strength, but not so much the whole projection. This creature has _hooves_ underneath his heavily altered jeans, and he collects his hat from the corner, and inexpertly tries to jam it over his massive curling rams horns. The cop narrows his eyes a little, and he flashes an odd expression at Lamont, and then says to him "Mr Petropolous - Junior - said you would be signing the cheque. We'll get him out and I think the precinct will be glad he is gone."

Lambert finally says to Arlo "We…don't age as fast as others do. I mean. Definitely not my dad…yeah. I know. It's weird."

Arlo cranes his neck to look at Lambert's dad as he stands. "Yeah, you sure don't," he murmurs. He gives Lambert a sidelong glance. What. He's only looking. He's mortal! This takes some getting used to. "So while Spooky signs the paperwork and dishes out the cash, what do we do with this big guy?"

"Yes, officer, of course," Lamont says, on a sigh. Oh, satyrs. But he's heading out to take care of the boring paperwork.

"Whatever you like!" says the large, drunken creature, giving Arlo a more than warm smile. The cop eyes him sharply "No funny business!" says the officer as he heads out with Mr. Moneybags in order to get business taken care of.

Now the two of them are left, and Lambert says to his father "You just can't do that kind of thing in New York, dad. This isn't like that little village in Texas where you guys have built up all that social capital and everyone just knows you're alright. People here - we don't get to help them out with their harves- URK -" Father has gotten up and _hugged_ Lambert, and Lambert's feet leave the floor "Augh-"

Arlo waves a little at Mr. Petropolous. "Wow," he says. "You've got a good relationship with your dad. I don't think mine ever hugged me." He looks a bit awkward, though, the lone mortal at a satyr reunion. He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels.

Father puts down Son, and pats his head, and says to him "Why are you hiding your horns? They are very cute!" "OH MY GOD!" says Lambert, appalled, and he grabs Arlo with one hand, and his father's hand with the other and drags both of them towards the door out and processing "…we're physical," he tells Arlo, awkwardly "We fight like crazy as well. But it's cold in winter where we come from, you tend to crash out with everyone else and…look. It's just cultural. Greeks and Italians, we walk arm in arm. Americans are standoffish, you know?"

"We're Jewish," Arlo says as though that explains… something. He allows himself to be dragged. Apparently Lambert has earned dragging privileges. "We do argue a lot, though." Though once they've reached their destination, he reclaims his hand and stuffs it in his pocket.

And a few of Lambert senior's things are reclaimed. Including a very large raincoat with a wide plastic hood. Lambert junior helps him get it on, and Senior slings an arm around him as they head on outside "Oh thank God Lamont paid," says Lambert to Arlo, and his father both. His father just looks down at Arlo and offers a very broad hand "Mikel," he explains cheerily "So you are one of Lambert's -" "No! No more questions like this in public!" Lambert says, trying to drag his father along.

Arlo shakes the large Satyr's hand tentatively and says, "Arlo." Then he shakes his head adamantly. "No, no, we're not like that. He's just a guy I know from the restaurant, and I guess maybe a friend. I was just hanging out outside when him and the other guy came by to get you out."

"Who is the other one?" asks the more mythical of the two, as Lambert finally finishes adjusting things to hide him "Lamont. He's a…wizard. Well, something like that. He has a bit of magic, anyway, I don't quite think he has as much as many, but he's very good at using what he has." Lambert finally rubs his forehead, and then he says to Arlo "I didn't want to tick mutant because we're not mutants, and I didn't want to get into legal trouble, I guess. But they didn't have an option for 'not completely human'…"

"A wizard?" Arlo says. "Magic?" He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, then takes his cigarettes from his pocket and pats himself down for matches. He shrugs a shoulder and tells Lambert, "He's heading out of town anyway. They'll file it and never look at it again." He plants a cigarette between his lips and lights up. "This too shall pass."

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