Apathy . . . ? Sam almost asked allowed, but decided it probably wasn't worth the convoluted answer he suspected he would get for the trouble. Keep things simple. Laid back was a lifestyle that he had perfected by doing so. He certainly wasn't about to change that now.

KISS. [OOC: This means Keep it simple stupid, Mauri]


He juggled the box with care. It was more difficult than it looked, but he was used to it. If he had more than one box he took the little red wagon that was a memento from his youth. It was also very handy when dragging a cart full of art supplies by yourself. It was something he'd started up in college, he'd never managed to return the wagon to his parents.

His door unlocked easily, and he held it open for Jack.

"Home sweet home?" he heard the man ask.

"Something like that," he smiled easily. Though it wasn't very much of a home.

The living room was clean enough, but the rest of the house was a mess. He very much hoped there would be no reason for Jack to go into the bedroom or the kitchen, though.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, seeing no reason to be impolite. "I think I have water, tea, and diet sprite--" he winced, "my mom always insists I have it for her and then only drinks one can so it sits around for months."

He motioned to the couch which took up the center of the room, placed before a small TV set, "Please, make yourself at home."