(2018-03-27) Pizza Party
Pizza Party
Summary: Pizza at Audgrim's, with guests Ida, Eddie and Denver.
Date: IC Date (2018-03-27)
Related: None
Player Characters: Eddie, Denver, Ida, Audgrim

Audgrim's Apartment - Old Tenement - Baker St.
The place is tiny, just one room with a kitchenette and a half-bathroom. The walls are thin and the wallpaper is mostly non-existant, but even so, someone's gone through some pain to tidy the place up as best as they can. It's been cleaned and scrubbed, the floor boards (though stained) scrubbed so they shine where they are seen under the plentiful old but colorful rugs. The kitchen area has an old fridge, cabinets in a brown drab color, and certainly no dishwasher.
There's barely any furniture. There's one chair and a big cardboard box serving as a table. In the one window, that has no curtains yet, stands a half-meter tall orange tree in a large pot. There's a few blankets and a pillow in one corner of the room, serving as someone's bed, and at the side there is an old duffelbag with some clothes in.
The bathroom is tiny, but scrubbed so clean it shines, with brown tiles on the floor and a dark red old 70s pattern on the walls. You can't turn around in the shower. But it works.
There's a faint smell of flowers. Someone's hidden a potpurri somewhere, to hide some of the smell of the building itself.
Quite often, a cockroach is wandering around on the floor or sitting on a wall. Just only one though, ever.

It's evening, because Audgrim doesn't really do daytime much if he can avoid it - or he's out playing no the streets from about noon to late afternoon. But he's invited people over for beer and pizza (he can't cook, pizza is the best he can buy for the money he makes).

In order to facilitate, there's now two more cardboard boxes and some pillows thrown out on top of the rugs, to sit on. It's practically a palace compared to, say, Eddie's place. Also there's lots of beer and pizza. "Watch out for Lill-Jonas," he warns as they start filtering in. He points at the cockroach in the corner.

Eddie already ate a couple of hours ago, at that barbecue joint that Gwen runs, but he can always eat again. He's brought over one of the milk crates from his apartment, to supplement Audgrim's arrangements, and he's sitting on that back off in the corner reading a little coverless water-damaged paperback. It's hard to say what it is, exactly, since all that can be seen is the page explaining how if you purchased this book with the cover removed, it is stolen property. He's got his banged up readers on, a little less self-conscious about them by now, and occasionally he stops to chat with the roach. He can do that, apparently.

"I know," Eddie says to Lill-Jonas, with all apparent sympathy, "I know, i know. Don't get so upset. He's Norwegian, he doesn't know any better. Anyway, you can always visit my place. Plenty of company."

"What is he saying?" Audgrim asks curiously, looking faintly offended. "If it is about almost washing him, I said I am sorry. Did not know he was hiding in sheets." So, he does laundry every now and then, apparently. He cuts up pizza with a knife - he started using his claws then remembered that this is not what people normally do in company - and reverted to using a dull old kitchen knife instead.

Denver was dragged along to meet new people. The clincher was really the pizza, because Ogres love very few things more than stuffing their faces, and she is no different. The volcanic woman steps into the place, her brows lifting just a little bit as she glances around. This guy is going to feed her, so there's not one word of complaint at the state of things. "Family reunion?" she wonders of Eddie's conversation with the roach before she shoves a hand towards Audgrim and grins. The flames around her lick upwards, and away from her hand, but despite that, the heat still flows off of her in waves. "Denver. Nice to meet ya."

"You hear that?" Eddie says to the roach, "He said he's sorry. Anyway, it's rude to climb into other people's beds without asking. What did I get your that matchbox for?" His eyes coming up over the tops of his readers as Denver comes in. "Don't be ridiculous. Roaches and flies are hardly related at all. Just a heartwarming testament to the power of friendship, is all." He licks his thumb and turns the page, a little smirk coming to his fae as the Ogre makes her introduction. "He's heard of you by now, I'm sure."

The way to the heart of many things is food. Ida knows this well. When Eddie's not chatting with the cockroach, she is saying sweet sounding things in secret bug language (specifically blattodease) and hand feeding it little tidbits of something from a little ziplock bag. "Aud, he is sad that he is the only one here. They are social little creatures." She feeds it another morsel, then waggles the bag invitingly at the bug. Then a bright smile up and over at Denver, "I asked him to make sure to get stuffed crust, just for you. Though I am sad to hear they no longer make it with bacon inside."

Audgrim's shadow covers its eyes from the flames and the heat for a second and then revert to normal - it's part of his still weak mantle, and has a life of its own apparently. The demonic beast pumps Denver's hand firmly, grinning a toothy welcoming grin. "Denver, nice to finally meet you. I'm Audgrim." So he's heard about Denver, indeed. But finally meeting her, his eyes dart around to keep a fascinated track of those flames, his tail dancing in rhytm to it. "Here, pizza," he says and shoves a whole box of it her way. Food is the key, always.

He looks over at Lill-Jonas, all contrite: "Sorry - he can have friends here, will ask Bea to make some more move in. Or if he wants to go live with Eddie, it's fine. But I promise, he gets lots of food."

"He likes it over here, mostly," Eddie says, his eyes drifting once again to that bag Ida is feeding the roach out of. He seems a little jealous, for the first time in their relationship. He shakes it off with visible effort, and returns to the subject at hand. "He doesn't have to scrap for scraps. We'll arrange a play date, it'll be fine." He tries to go back to his reading, but he can still smell that bag. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath and makes a guess, like a party trick: "Cat food, cow blood… Midori?"

"If you think I'm above opening the crust of a pizza and shoving bacon into it, well, I'm a little offended." Denver doesn't appear to be offended at all, though, especially when Audgrim shoves a pizza box into her hands. "You are so attractive to me right now," she tells him with a sage bob of her head. Then she's meandering towards a fairly empty spot and just flopping onto the floor with the box in her lap. How someone so little can eat that much is a mystery. "I hear to you play music, that true?" She glances from Aud for a moment to side eye Eddie and Ida, grinning at their interaction around a bite of pizza.

"And some watermelon juice for vitamins, and a bit of marrow to make sure he stays strong and healthy," Ida shows her dimples, monochrome eyes shimmering through her lashes as she coyly lowers them, glancing from fly man to pet cockroach and back. "He does seem to like it." She casually puts the partially open bag near Eddie, on one of those extra pillows, then goes to wash her hands before sampling a slice of pizza. There's a happy noise at finding one with thin crust, which she proceeds to fold in half length wise and eat that way. New York "fold and hold", elegant model style. If models ate pizza. Hand models? "Aud, I appreciate you very much. And Denver, I have nothing but faith in you."

The bag of offal horror slumps a little on its perch, the ziplock sliding open just a bit further. Sending a little breath of scavenger delight aroma towards the sleuth.

"Good. I like him being here. Thanks for staying, Lill-Jonas." The little bug is getting a grin and a thumbs up from Audgrim.

Audgrim totally understands Denver, flashing her that beastly charming grin. "If someone give me pizza, I find them very nice too." He proceeds to hand out beer bottles - no glasses here. He sprawls out on some pillows and points to the violin case leaning in a corner. "I play violin - make some money on the streets. I play violin, hit things and swim." He sums himself up, introducing himself more properly. His eating style is a mix between half inhaling, and daintily picking off bits on top with a claw. He beams Ida a smile. "Pizza is even new. No dumpster pizza."

Eddie snaps his fingers. Rotten watermelon juice, not Midori. Of course. (What's the difference, really?) "Don't be fooled how little she is," he warns Audgrim, glancing between him and Denver, "she'll break you like a twenty at the Family Dollar." He doesn't get up for pizza, leaving that to the suckers who can't handle the good stuff, instead faux-surreptitiously dipping into the bag that Ida so considerately left in arm's reach like he was stealing somebody's popcorn at the movie theater. He needs to be strong and healthy, too, after all. When he turns the page again it leaves a gruesome bloody thumbprint on the page.

"Hey! I don't break people unless they need to be broken," Denver protests. "Or sparring. Or in the ring, which is how I earn my money." Underground fighting is a pretty lucrative business when you're good enough to survive it without permanent brain damage. Obviously she's been lucky with that so far. She beams towards Ida when she says she has faith in her, looking smug as she polishes off a slice of pizza like it's nothing. "Hit things, huh? We should spar!"

"If sparring mean hitting each other, we do that, yes," Audgrim says, having already forgotten the warning Eddie gave about ten seconds ago. His tail flick around excitedly. Least he's not asking Eddie's permission - he's not /that/ confused. "Also, I need help. I go into hedge to find things for armor. If I hit things, they hit back. I like my things inside stomach to stay inside stomach." He points at Denver, as an example: "I am not tough skin like Denver - but I will be in front getting hit. Need armor."

Ida is humming something. "Heaven, I'm in heaven - And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak - And I seem to find the happiness I seek - When we're out together on our fighting streak. I absolutely agree with Denver, Aud. You two should spar, it will be an interesting match." Those dimples have something a little wicked to them, maybe. Nah. She pretends not to notice Eddie eating out of the roach treat baggie, instead focusing on her own food. Mm. "I hope things return to normal quickly. I feel we would all get along marvelously if we were to adventure together." She considers. "If we can return the Hedge to normal we can surely smash through stuff and make you some armo— oh. Eddie, darling? Why don't we see what we can find? I know there used to be an armory. I recall this distinctively."

Lill-Jonas' feelers wave in athropod agitation as Eddie continues eating Ida's special blend. "You've had enough," the detective says, which doesn't seem to help. He closes his book and looks earnestly toward the bug. "Look, I didn't want to say anything, but you're getting fat. All the roaches at my place are laughing at you." He heaves a sigh a moment later. "Oh, don't be like that, I'm sure they're just jeal-" He hears his name out of someone with two legs, and looks up. There's blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, like the world's saddest vampire. "Armory? That was in the Redoubt. Still a no-go zone. If you two are going to scrap, make sure Bea's on hand with some Amaranth," he looks directly at Audgrim, "and a funnel to feed it to you through."

"Armor is a damn good thing to have. I have plenty naturally, some from my mantle, some from the wyrd. But it'd be neat to find a shield I could use too, make myself a little less open to actually getting hit in the first place." Denver considers it, glancing between the group. "Redoubt is out, but there are other places outside of your old freehold that could have an armory store, yeah? Maybe find a den of loyalists, put them out of business and then take their stuff to do good with it?"

Audgrim tosses a piece of pizza over to Lill-Jonas. "You not fat," he says, glaring at Eddie. All good-naturedly though. Finishing his own pizza, he proceeds to guzzle down beer thirstily, lying back like the world's laziest beast demon (half). "Hedge is bad now, but bad means finding good things too. And we need to fix hedge, anyway - if we look more maybe we find more what is wrong." He slides another pizza box over towards Denver - the last one. He seems to be rather awed.

"There must have been another one, surely," Ida objects to the general idea of the Redoubt being the only place in town. "Or several. We are a paranoid kind, people would not leave all their stashes in one place. Not to mention that we are supposed to have been here for a long time. I would rather enjoy researching something non-avian, once we have the time." She nods her head to Denver's suggestion of loyalists. "I like this plan."

Swords and shields and armor. Eddie can't help but sneer a little. "It's like I'm back at school, listening to those freaks in the SCA talk over their real cool weekend." Never mind the fact that he used to visit a magical castle and fought a literal dragon once. He picks at his teeth with a shard of cow bone that got mixed in with all the marrow. "Speaking of loyalists and their toys, I had Scorse take a look at that gun," he says, "nothing too weird. Just hedgespun. Real good hedgespun, though. Ought to come in handy, the way things are going."

"Good hedgespun indeed, Eddiecakes. Those bullets managed to get through my armor. But don't forget that you could use some armor too, buddy. Those birds messed you up that night." Denver beams up towards Audgrim as he offers her another pizza. The empty box is set aside as she claims the new, full one. "Mind reader!" she exclaims with a grin that quickly shifts towards Ida. "I thought you might like that idea. I'd honestly be happy to focus on anything non-avian myself for a little bit. Fight some good, old fashioned hedgebeasts.

"I don't like birds," Audgrim says, face darkening at the mere mention of avians, his shadow murdering a pigeon behind him, before eating it. Just a few seconds of theatric play. "I like /eating/ birds," he amends, because there's a difference. He gets to his feet and goes to find some more beer, handing out to those that want one again. Playing good host.

"My emotional armor is all I need," Eddie says, flicking that shard of bone into the corner, "and it weighs me down enough without messing with the real thing. I've done fine so far just staying away from things that want to kill me." A beat. "Or finding the right people to hide behind." He looks down at his gore stained fingers, and wipes them off on his lapel, freshining up the crime-scene-in-miniature around the little pewter magnifying glass he's been wearing around as a pin.

"It is a nasty little trinket," Ida nods to Eddie, polishing off the last of her pizza slice. The gun? His emotional armor? She grabs three beers, offering one to the sleuth, one to Denver and then has the third one for herself. "And yes, a change of pace will be lovely. I should like to return the Hedge to its normal dangerous state, not the nasty current. Once this is all over, we should celebrate. Perhaps a particularly fowl barbecue." She smiles, pleased with herself as she sips her beer.

"Waxin' poetic isn't going to protect your ass from a bullet, dummy." Denver leans over to give Eddie a little flick. "I won't always be there to distract the bad guys. Armor is a good thing. Something hedgespun and light so it doesn't interfere with your ability to get out of dodge quickly." Overprotective ogre is overprotective. "Audgrim's right, eating birds is the only thing they're good for anymore. I'm not sure I'll ever trust something bird-like again." Ida's fowl comment gets her a flick, too!

Audgrim does not know this word 'Fowl', so the joke goes right over his head. But he grins anyway, because it's just the atmosphere in here making him feel comfortable. Then he yawns - Eddie would know that sign, all too well. "Drink more beer if you want. I go sleep now." And without further ado, he walks over to his sleeping corner (there's no actual bed, just a nest of blankets), curls up and is sleeping within a minute, snoring softly.

One moment Ida is there for the flicking, the next before it can happen she is a step away, casually model posed against the kitchen counter. Magic! Like trying to hit a bug that sees the swat coming. She looks appropriately pleased about herself, too, and raises her beer in a little cheers to the Ogre. "Ah. Our gracious host has decided to leave our company. But yes, I do think something more protective might be good for all of us. Eddie, darling, what do you think?"

"You obviously haven't seen my collection of poetry," Eddie smirks, "I've got a volume of Bradburne that I'm pretty sure could stop a bullet. God knows it's not good for much else." He watches Audgrim collapse into the corner, counts down from five, and snaps his fingers a couple of times. No reaction. He shakes his head. "I'd trade going up walls for that trick, I think. Look, I'm touched," that part seems addressed at Denver, "and annoyed," Ida, that time, "at the concern, but I've managed to live this long and I've hardly ever got a sword put through me. Put me in one of those gettups and I'd die of embarrassment, anyway."

"It doesn't have to be a getup. There's plenty of neat ass lookin' 'spun out there that we'll find something you'll want to wear. I firmly believe that." Denver's hand hovers for a moment where Ida had just been, tossing the woman an amused look as she suddenly flickers into another area. "That's a neat trick," she states before re-busying her hand with more pizza. "Everyone needs protection. Even the sneaky ones.

"Unless it comes in powder blue and polyester, I kind of doubt it," Eddie says, still watching Audgrim snore. That guy has the right idea, he seems to decide. He climbs up off his milk crate, bending down to take it with him and vanishing his snack bag into his pocket while he's at it. He reaches out and gives Lill-Jonas a pat on the head. "Keep an eye on things." He turns to head for the door, addressing the ladies in attendance on his way out. "It's about time for my weekly sleep, I think. And quit fussing, already. I have protection. Six whole feet of it." The door closes behind him, like the period at the end of that sentence.

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