<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/3d/ca/a3/3dcaa335e8ade145b7fc757d5d6039fc.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Greggor Steppenwolfe<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Big old stuffy mansion<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Tennis shoes, jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket.  All expensive and designer.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Man, there's a lot of people here now.<br/><strong>Extra Information:</strong><br/><br/>Standing on the porch was suddenly turning into the cool thing to do, apparently.  Gregg was only vaguely disappointed when his little wordplay with blondie fell apart, mostly as it simply became a little bit more crowded, as more and more people approached the 'Big Old Stuffy Mansion' <tm>.  He did catch blondie's comment about the chopper between her legs later; he just gave a cocky 'knew it' grin... before things started moving on to others.  As Madeline lit up like a christmas tree, he just chuckled softly.  "Training wheels, then."  He offered, but she was already on the move.<br/><br/>He watched as the meek little girl with the platinum hair all but bolted... or would have, if she didn't crash into another man, sending sunglasses clattering.  A part of Gregg found himself a little relieved at the sight of another guy to the party; this would get damn awkward if it was just him and a gaggle of girls.  On the other hand, well<em>the better to get some.</em>The guy himself didn't seem like much in the way of competition, really.  Sunglasses?  And that hat?  Really?  He looked like he had just stepped out of a flea market.  No contest there.  Still, maybe he could be useful.  Keep the shy one distracted, or some such.  Now where was ...<br/><br/>There was a third girl, another blonde (damn.... This was getting good) that appeared, drawing his new playmate away, towards her and her bicycle.  He smirked at the idea of her on the bike, but, well, not everyone was cut out for the real thing like he had.  Lis?  Apparently Gilda was the adventurous one, and she seemed to know everyone, or damn close to it.  Gilda?  What kind of name was that?  But even so... was she... checking out the mouse's ass?  Oh, this was just getting better and better, he had to say.<br/><br/>"Storytime.  Right."  He offered, finally answering Tim, once the man had his shades and had settled against the railing.  "This is like Scooby Doo meets Breakfast Club.  Who lives in a place like this?"  He spun around briefly, indicating the creepy old house.  He did turn back towards Gilda, though. "Gregg, by the way."  He felt awkward making introductions.  If you were even remotely part of the 'in crowd', you already knew who he was.  Right?<br/><br/>Letting his gaze take in the women, and glancing at Tim again -- something about him put him ill at ease.  The almost nonchalant nature of 'I don't care about being here, and I don't care that you care' -- he addressed everyone.  "So really... why are we all here, hmm?"<br/><br/>