"Mélanie. Paul," Jim said, a nod at each of them and a grin. He shook Paul's hand, but the girl didn't seem up much for a handshake so he let it slide. Jim wasn't up for forcing himself upon anyone. "I can't say I disagree Paul, can't say I disagree. You guys ever been fishing? I read there's a great lake here, serene. Stunning, not that it surprises me. Fish in abundance. I haven't been fishing, in, well damn, [i]years[/i]. We're here for a while, might as well make the most of it," he laughed, not a cold 'let's get this over with' snigger, but a hearty 'summer is here, let's get it on' chuckle. Jim opened the side pocket of his rucksack and pulled out a pair of aviators, planting them in front of his eyes. 

Mélanie's off-kilter accent intrigued Jim. It wasn't American, but he couldn't particularly place it. Italian? French? "I love your accent, but where's it from? European, I assume?" he asked tentatively. He didn't want to offend anyone at this early stage in their holiday, nor did he want to come off as brash. Jim wasn't brash, but he was forward when he had to be. He had a way of finding out what he wanted to find. Most people found the intensity in his words enough to convince them that he truly did want to know the answer. His movements had been specially tailored to create an air of confidence but also of care. Rarely did he do something or say something and not mean it. When he asked a question, he wanted the answer. When he laughed, he was enjoying himself. When he kissed a girl, he [i]kissed the girl[/i]. Jim was a man of doing. 

Jim was basking in the sunlight, letting it splash down his shirt and warm his chest when the horn startled him. He skittered on the gravel until he turned around and saw Dominic Rocha in his Jeep. "Dom, you ass! Great to see you, my man, great to see you! How long has it been you reckon?" Jim exclaimed, wrapping his arm around the neck of the guy who walked up behind him. He had found Dominic through a friend of a friend of a friend, so to speak. Back when they were kids the were great friends, but people had to move and friendships are difficult to maintain over distance's it seemed. Standing next to Jim were two examples of that. Or maybe there was just a common denominator here; Jim. That saddened him. But the coming months were for friendships, fun, and whatever else may come. Jim looked forward to that. To it all. To everything. 

Jim listened to what the blonde girl had to say. "Sure. Is there anyone else we have to wait for? All of our party is here, you two are present, and I'm assuming our gracious host is at the cabin," he said. He didn't know how many people were invited. For all Jim knew this was going to be a toga party from Animal House. Or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Or it could be perfectly normal. But life never happens like it should on paper. He was fully prepared for something to become a sordid mess, and even more prepared for a boat load of weird. Whatever. Roll with the punches.