(2018-03-29) Count Me In
Count Me In
Summary: Eddie recruits some help for an upcoming rescue, and gets his just desserts for some bad decisions.
Date: 2018-03-29
Related: http://darkwater.wikidot.com/log:2018-03-28-death-wish
Player Characters: Audgrim, Denver, Eddie, Mr. Quiet, Penny

---| Eddie's Apartment - Old Tenement - Baker St. |


This apartment has gone long unloved, uncared for, even actively abused by previous tenants. The scent of mildew and dust lingers. The floor is a once-varnished hardwood that alternates between scarred, pitted, swollen and distorted. The window panes are darkened with dust and smoke to the point where they almost blend with the moisture-spotted beige wallpaper. Allegedly a studio, there is little room even for the scant kitchenette and half bath, both of which are graced with faux stucco walls the color of freezerburnt chicken to go with the mustard colored cabinetry. The appliances are several decades old, mixed off-white, off-pink and hospital green, with rusting "stainless" sinks. Above the stove a previous tenant has carved "SMIEL (:" so deep into the drywall that no patch job can hide it.

Whomever currently lives here might be actively on the run. The only seating is a drab futon on top of an inflatable mattress, both sagging with age, shoved into a corner furthest away from the apartment door. A rolled up blanket offers questionable protection from the sticky wall. Re-used plastic milk crates are incongrous bits of bright color, used next to the futon to hold a crooked light and a collection of third-hand poetry, as well as below the windows for a portable battery powered lantern and a wheezing radio.
-------------|

"Come on in," Eddie says, answering the door. "Just getting my affairs in order. You see anything you want, just write your name on it." He gestures around the room, like there's anything in it that anybody might want, crossing the room to kick a couple of milk crates into a good place for sitting. A half-dozen roaches skitter out from underneath them and disappear between the floorboards, into the wall, beneath the futon and anywhere else they can get to, waving their antennae in agitation. "Quit bitching," he snarls at them, like they can understand, "you don't pay rent. Sorry about that, Pennywise. Squatters." He shrugs his shoulders, what-can-you-do? "Can I get you anything? There's soda in the fridge, and half a box of baking soda."

Penny blinks at the scattering of roaches, then slowly untenses. This is Eddie's World. "Huh, I'll make sure to step lively, don't want to bust up any family reunions." She moves carefully, keeping an eye out. "I guess I'll have some of the liquid soda." She leans up against a wall. "So, how is life treatin you, Eddie?"

Eddie looks back over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow at that question. "Oh, you know," he says, opening the thankfully roach-free fridge and ducking his head in, "bird-themed street gangs, visitors from the FBI, dead bodies with my business card on them. The usual, can't complain." Somehow his tongue doesn't dry up and fall out, telling a lie like that. He comes out of the fridge with half a six-pack still in the plastic netting. Something from mexico, from the label on the can, that smells a little like artificial watermelon flavoring and a lot like sugar when he cracks one open for himself. He tosses another to the clown, and sits himself down on one of the milk crates his was kicking around. "Careful leaning like that. You might end up in the hallway."

Penny grabs the soda. "Sounds like you've got a full dance card. And I think I might want to know about the street gangs and the FBI. You need me to do anything about the Feds?" She cracks open the soda and has to drink quickly to not make a frothy mess. "Hmm, watermelon goodness and I think I need insulin." She looks at the can. "Sandia! It even has a little watermelon guy on the can!"

Eddie and Penny are hanging around his roach nest of an apartment, discussing the matters of the day. The clown is leaned up agains the wall while the sleuth is perched on one of the milk crates he has instead of furniture, both drinking some oversweetened mexican soda that smells like a watermelon with diabetes. The door is still unlocked from their arrival, not that the locks really matter much in a place like this.

"Ida turned me on to them," Eddie says, taking an obnoxious slurp of his drink and smiling a dreamy smile. Just as the sugar content, of course. He taps his finger on the side of the can and thinks on her offer, then shakes his head. "The feds are a touchy situation. I don't want anyone else getting mixed up 'til I know a little more, in case things go south. The birdboys, though, that I could use some help with. They run out of Uptown, call themselves the 'Feather Street Gang', and I'm pretty sure they work for that thing on the mountain." He goes on explaining a while about what he knows, concluding at the end: "I'm pretty sure they're the ones who showed up at the farmhouse, with that purple eyed girl they thought I'd care so much about. It's about time we finally did something about that."

Penny frowns in an overexaggerated manner, as a clown does. "Feather Street Gang. That sounds like some twisted cross between West Side Story and Sesame Street. You want I should go The Warriors on them? Feather Street Gaaaaaaaaang, come out and play-aaaaaaaaay…" She taps the side of her can. "Feather Street Gaaaaaaang, come out and play-aaaaaaaaayyyyy…" She giggles. "I should dress up like one of those baseball furies. I have a bat!"

Long before there is a knock at the front door, the exceptionally heavy footfalls send slow, rhythmic tremors through the creaky floorboards of the old building. The last few steps prior to the knock actually shakes some dust loose from the doorframe, and cracks in the ceiling.

Unfortunately, the knock itself is more than the old creaky door can handle. Since it's already unlocked, the second rap sends the door flinging open, only to reveal the hulking form of Mr. Quiet in the entrance. The ogre has never been here — heck, has he ever left the Princess? Tonight, his impressive size completely blocks off the doorway, and a moment later he takes his first steps inside…. momentarily shaking the apartment.

Lo and behold, no longer is Mr. Quiet dressed in a ruined, badly tailored butler suit. No, not tonight. Tonight he is wearing a proper suit and tie, certainly far, far too big to be bought off any rack. Sure, the tie is a bit loose around his thick neck, and the hem of his shirt is not tucked in properly, but in compensation, he has a shiny Rolex on his wrist. A Rolex that is attached to a piece of chain so that it can actually fit around his wrist.

Bugman Brundle." Comes the familiar rumble of the ogre, followed by a glance at the Darkling. "Penny."

"I guess you've got the face paint down already," Eddie grins his crooked grin at Penny, and that's as far as he gets before Mr. Quiet makes his presence definitively known. He's never seen the ogre outside the Princess before, and certainly not dressed like that. Between those facts and the thing that just happened to his door, it takes him a moment to process what's going on, his eyes bugged out even more than usual. "Mr. Q," he finally says. giving a slow thumbs-up, a little dazed, "Looking sharp. I'd offer you a seat, but…" he trails off. All he's got is milk crates, and they're just not up to the task.

Penny almost drops her soda can when the floor shakes. She goes into a wide-legged stance, looking around. "What the hell! Is there an earthqua - " Then she looks over to see the entrance of the well-dressed…"Mr. Quiet. Wow." Her jaw drops. Then she gathers herself. "You look so dapper, man!" Her jaw is still a little dropped, and she pushes her jaw back up into place. "It's good to see you!"
Mr. Quiet slowly bobs his head to both Changelings, and when they both comment on his nice suit, his giant hands come up to adjust the collar of the jacket. "This real nice fella I met offered a part-time job as his business representative." He explains in his low, baritone rumble, one slow syllable at a time. "He makes sure I'm pre-sen-table." His ponderous steps continue as he moves further into the apartment, each step sending a shake through the floor. "Ain't see ya in a while, Penny." The ogre even greets, then glances about the place before pointing out to Eddie helpfully. "You needs better furniture."

"I wonder what kind of business," Eddie says, recovering some of his wits, "Waste management, maybe?" He looks over at Penny, maybe to see if that gets a laugh or at least a riff on the Sopranos, and realizes from the look on her face that this could probably use some explanation. "The big guy had a weird time in the Hedge, and it jarred loose some memories. Seems like he's been getting some mileage out of them, already." His glance follows Mr. Quiet's around the room, and he snorts a laugh at the ogre's assessment. "I was trying out this ascetic thing," he explains, "but I wasn't expecting so much company. I'll take it under advisement. Soda?" He offers the last can, still hanging from the plastic netting of the sixpack.

Penny just stares. And stares. And stares. She hears Mr. Quiet, but his sudden loquaciousness and wise guy accent has knocked her for a loop. She lifts her free hand and slaps herself. "Ow! Sorry about that. This is a change that I did not expect. And I'm probably bein rude as hell right now, sorry." She chugs her soda and if Quiet doesn't go for that last can, she snatches it.

Mr. Quiet lets out a grunt at Eddie's offer, so it's just as well that Penny steals it. "Ya gots a smoke?" He lumbers towards the windows, and peers out suspiciously down at the street below. When he turns back, his brows are furrowed, his gaze on one giant hand. "I just 'member, I like cigars. Ya gots cigars?" He stops to watch Penny drink the soda for a few seconds, then adds. "Didn't nobody expect this ta happen, Pennies. But now I 'member." A thick finger comes up and taps himself in the temple.

Eddie seems amused by Penny's reaction, and it takes a little of the edge off his own. He searches around in his coat for a while, never entirely sure what he has at any given moment, and finally shakes his head. "No cigars," he says, coming out with a nasty little pack of Panama cigarettes, "but I could tape a few of these together?" He shakes one loose for himself, and strikes a match one-handed on his thumbnail. The room didn't seem like it coul stink any more, but appearances are deceptive. "Glad to see you're adjusting. Bea was worried, as much as she worries about anything. Penny and me were just talking some heads that might need twisting off, if you're interested."

Penny just looks from Mr. Quiet to Eddie, then back to Quiet, then back to Eddie. "I feel like I should be blamin you. But I'd be wrong. Or would I? First you're rockin the film noir PI shtick, cool, then Ida comes back as the dame with the legs that don't quit, and now here's Mr. Quiet, who looks like he should be carryin not one, but two tommyguns! Or at the very least, talkin about what they call Quarter Pounders in France." She pounds down the second soda, which should probably put her on a sugar high worthy of an entire day care.

Mr. Quiet's wide maw twists and curls into an evil grin at Penny's comments. "Ain't got no tommyguns. Not like the good ol' days." He comes back and stands next to Penny, looking down at the scary clown like some sort of demented little sister. Slowly his gaze shifts back to Eddie, head tilting curiously. "I wanna talk 'bout gettin' ya lot to help with the Hollow, but now that Pennies' here, we can decide what ta do. That can wait." Beat. "I ain't done no head-twistin' in a long, long time, but after everythin' recently, I'm itchin' to make up fer lost time. Who we makin' disappear?"

"Are you asking for a new gimmick?" Eddie grins at Penny. "I'm sure we could figure something. You could be a flapper, maybe. Or a newsie?" He scratches at the little black hairs on his chin, considering. But then it's back to business, and he looks up (way up) at Mr. Quiet. "Usually I try and steer clear of the Hedge, but you need any help with the Vale, just say the word. I have the most nostalgic nightmares about that place. The heads we're talking about ought to twist pretty easy, with the hollow bones, and all. They call themselves the Feather Street Gang, and…"

He explains, again. The roaches in this place must be getting pretty sick of hearing this one. "… so we think they're holding somebody we don't want them holding, anymore. This girl with purple eyes and something to do with these crowns that've been floating around. Now that you're out and about, maybe we've got a chance at springing her."

Penny looks way up at Quiet. "Okay, I remember this part, no matter how you talk, my neck will never forget." She snickers. "Yeah, I'm game to do some Hollow stuff. Rearrange the cobwebs, bust open a few coffins, reclaim the spot." She swears she sees a few roaches waggling their antennae to the cadence of Eddie's words. "So, we break a few heads, rescue a girl with purple eyes, maybe get this crown thing fixed? I'm down to clown." Pause. "Obviously."

Mr. Quiet nods to Penny's words about reclaiming the Hollow, his giant hand coming up to pat the clown on the shoulder. He is otherwise listening to Eddie's explanation of the 'problem' in the middle of the PI's apartment. To the newcomers, why is Mr. Quiet even here? When was the last time he left the Princess? NEVER, that's when. And he is certainly different today: not in ruins and rags of an old butler suit, but in fact in a proper (but massively oversized) suit and tie.

Wake up, wash your face, look up in the mirror, sigh. That was what happened with Denver after she finally woke up from pure exhaustion of a crazy day. The tiny volcano didn't even bother with shoes or pants, dressed only in a t-shirt that was clearly not meant for her, because she's wearing it like a dress. She didn't even have to guess who was responsible for the scribbling on her face, and it doesn't do anything to make her look less mad as she stomps up the stairs and into Eddie's place. "Penny, Mr. Quiet," she offers in greeting before stalking right towards Eddie, winding a fist back, and punching him right in the face, right out of his chair. "Now we're even." Arms fold over her chest as she glowers.

Audgrim was out, buying food - he's carrying some overstuffed grocery bags as he enters the tenement, only to see tiny lava ogre stomp towards Eddie's apartment. His eyes widen - uhoh. However, he doesn't try to stop her, instead trailing after lazily and peeking into the neighbor's place to watch the show with arms full of food. Mix of concern and high amusement on his face.

Eddie's eyes widen in panic as Denver comes stomping into the room. He looks back at the window and thinks of going out it, then at the walls and thinks of going up them, then settles for taking one (possibly literally) last long drag off his cigarette in the time she takes to greet the Autumns. He looks up at her as she approaches, unpenetent but resolved to accept what's coming, holding his breath. The force of the blow sends him toppling back onto the hardwood, where he lies a while, blowing smoke and gummy black blood out his nose. "Denver," he says from the floor, "good to see you. Come on in."

Penny nods to Denver in greeting. "Heya Denver, howsit go-OH SHIT!" Her eyes go wide as she rushes over to Eddie's prone form. "What the hell, man?" She looks over at Denver, then notices the black ink unibrow. "Oh." She gets up and walks over to the sink to try and get some water and a washcloth, probably a difficult journey. "Eddie, did you make her look like that guy who plays for the Pelicans?" Then she adds, "Hi Audi!"

Mr. Quiet turns his head, just in time to see Denver storm in and clock Eddie right in the smoocher, and the latter goes flying back. He doesn't seem as surprised as Penny… or Eddie, for that matter. He doesn't move from his spot next to Penny either, and if he is at all tempted to intervene… it is cut short by Audgrim's arrival next. "All-Grim." The big ogre greets the horny man with his usual deep rumble, before shifting his yellow gaze back to the combatants. "Fire-Girl. Why…" Then he squints and sees the unibrow, and his wide mouth curls into a devilish grin. "Ah, hawhawhaw."

Audgrim isn't sure he wants to watch when Eddie gets punched. He's felt it himself, and knows just how brutal that woman can be. Buuut - he's also darkly amused. As the bug-man flies back, and then responds - he figures he'll be okay. He saunters in and nudges the door closed (which is almost pointless, with these thin walls), and sets the bags down there for now. "Hi all," he rasps and grins. He shoots Mr. Quiet a thoughtful look, certainly noticing the change of clothing, but making no comment. "Beer in bag if you want," he says and points to one of them by the door. "Denver - feeling better then?" he asks lightly.

"For the record, I would otherwise think this is hilarious. But on days that I've had, like today, where I am physically and emotionally exhausted and thought I was going to watch someone I care about never wake up, maybe fucking with me isn't the best choice." Denver grabs the chair that Eddie was sitting on, pulling it out and settling on it. "This is mine now, be glad I don't beat your face in with it." There's the anger she usually saves for battle, raw from a rough day and unable to stay hidden. She watches Penny for a moment before glancing with a frown of dissaproval at Quiet's laughter. "You look nice in a suit," she tells him. But her attention quickly flits towards Audgrim, a hand lifting up, pointing. "I carried your ass nine hours through the Hedge for you to let him draw on me?" Oooooh, someone is in trou-ble.

Penny attempts to turn on the sink faucet and is met with a weak stream of brown water. "Ugh." And she can't find any washcloths. "Do you even have any flimsy ass napkins from Frugal's? Eddie, you're not getting first aid, and probably not even second aid or third aid." She rolls her eyes. "Next time, don't draw on people."

"Please," Eddie says to Penny, voice kind of nasal now, "does she look like she could play for the NBA?" Because short jokes are bound to increase his odds of survival. He goes to push himself up with the milk crate, but Denver already moved it so he ends up falling forward onto his face. He lies there a while, contemplating his mistakes, then finally manages to get more or less back to his feet. He pulls a blue cloth handkerchief out of his pocket and goes to wipe the blood off his face, but he hears Penny lamenting the lack of washcloths, so he staggers over and gives it to her instead. His coat sleeve will do just as well for his face. "This coming from you," he says to the clown, trying to snort a laugh and wincing instead at the feeling in his nose.

Mr. Quiet's predatory grin hasn't disappeared from his ugly mug. When was the last time anyone saw him grin? Never, that's when. Denver's commentary about his suit makes him reach up to adjust the collar. "I be moonlightin' as business rep-re-sent-ative fer a re-spec-table fella now." The giant ogre rumbles out, each syllable emphasized slowly and meaningfully. "I's gotta look nice."

Wait, did Mr. Quiet just say all those words? Yes. Yes he did.

Audgrim shoots Eddie a glare - he knew this would happen. But it's goodnatured, the humor glitters in yellow eyes, and his tail dances. Denver is given the most charming, broad rascally smile. "I'm fine." Heck, he looks rested and fully back to his normal self. "Can't die with you to save me, right?" He's trying to use that beastly charm to deflect her anger and make her more happy. He noticeably keeps a safe distance though. He grabs a box of cookies from one of the bags and offers to the lava ogre.

A brow arches, the whole thing, as Quiet speaks that much. "Indeed. It suits you." Was that a pun? Eddie is ignored for the moment, which is probably better for his health as all of that ire is directed towards Audgrim for the moment. "Whose gonna save you from me?" she wonders of him as she snatches the cookies out of his hand with a glower. The box is ripped open as she starts to devour the whole thing, still glaring at him. "You might have to just cut the skin off if it's permanent marker," she offers to Penny, not looking at her. Too busy glaring.

Penny just gives Eddie a Look. "*I* can draw on people. I'm a professional. I facepainted 100 kids for Halloween one year, with no breaks. Don't teach your gramma to suck eggs." Pause. "And now you've got me soundin like a damn flapper." She makes him keep the handkerchief. "Lean forward, pinch your nose closed. Assumin it's not broken."

Mr. Quiet lifts up his right hand, and brings the Rolex-attached-to-a-chain closer to his ear for a listen, as if checking to see if the watch is working. Once satisfied that it is, he lowers the hand and gives Penny another pat on the shoulder. "Time fer my delivery." He announces to everyone around, then his gaze falls back on Eddie. "Count me in, Brundle. Lemme know when an' where, an' I'll be there."

Eddie does as instructed. It isn't fun, but he doesn't make any unusual noises, so probably nothing's broken. "Nodd for me," he says, waggling the handkerchief at the clown again, and jerking his thumb back at Denver, "her. Godd some rubbing alcohol in the bathroom." He gives Mr. Quiet a wobbly thumbs-up as the big ogre goes to leave, and tries his best to keep out of sight of the little ogre as he stumbles over to snag one of the beers that Audgrim brought.

Audgrim's expression does display a hint of worry at Denver's quick retort. He rubs his jaw and wisely decides to shut up, to let the tiny ogre eat instead. He looks between Penny, Eddie and Quiet curiously and lazily moves to crouch next to Denver where she sits, dragging one of the food bags over so it's within easy reach. She's still got some eating and healing to do, after all. "By, Quiet. Let me know if you need help with anything."

Her vision is like a raptor's, eyes jerking to the side as soon as Eddie starts to move. The glaring switches people for a few moments as she loudly chomps on the cookies. "Atleast Penny is being kind to me. And she's the only one of you three whose life I haven't saved. What does THAT say?" Shame, gentlemen! Shaaaaame. Quiet gets a wiggling fingered goodbye as Denver reaches out a moment later to grab the bags from Audgrim and pull them into her lap. "I hope these are for me, because I'm eating all of them."

Penny heads to the bathroom for the rubbing alcohol. "Yeah, this'll probably hurt. And I think a roach is doin the backstroke in your toilet." She hands the bottle over to Eddie. "But really, I need to go home. I got some old bananas and my neighbor's gonna bake banana bread for me. And I'm down for the head twistin, Eddie, lemme know." She looks over to Denver and Audgrim and tilts her head. "Huh." Then she waves her farewells.

Eddie decides against the beer after all. Denver did say they were even, but he doesn't want to risk her forgetting. He takes a slug of rubbing alcohol, instead. It might be poison, but he doesn't have to worry about that as much as he does disgruntled ogres. Once he's done with his nightcap he soaks the handkerchief in rubbing alcohol and perhaps foolishly hands it out to the lava lady. "For your," he lets go of his nose and waves a finger between his eyebrows, tarry blood resuming its slow drip down his face.

Audgrim was reaching for a ready made ham and cheese sandwich at the top of one of the bags, having perhaps bought that for himself. But, he pulls his hand back fast and thinks better of it. "All yours," he rasps, failing at faking innocence but at least being very charming about it. He tries his best not to look at her face and her unibrow and busies himself with a beer instead, leaning up against the counter. "Bye Penny," he says and gives the other Autumn a fond look and a wave. He watches with held breath as Eddie offers the handkerchief to Denver; the corner of his lips tug a bit as he struggles to contain laughter at watching the unibrow. "Want me to help?" he says with a strained voice.

"Bye Penny." The clown Autumn gets an odd look for a moment, curiousity tugging at her when she spots the look given between her and Audgrim. But Penny is gone before she can ask. Does Denver spot Audgrim going for that sandwich? Probably, because she pulls it out of the bag and sets it to the side. She'll eat everything else. Red eyes lift towards Eddie as he waves that rag with alcohol in her direction. A hand slowly lifts to take it from him, but them extends back out towards Grim. Obviously, she's going to let him try to get the marker off, since he let it get put there in the first place! "Yeah," she tells Grim, eyes still on Eddie. "Whose head needs twisting off?" Yes, she heard that.

If Eddie is relieved that his hand doesn't get yanked away with the handkerchief, he doesn't show it. Not much, anyway. He finds his way over to the wall and leans back into the corner. He'd like to lay down, but going to sleep with Denver and Audgrim in the room seems like a poor idea, somehow. "We're making a move on the Feather Street Gang," he says. "Don't know how much you know about them, but that guy outside the grocery store was one of them, I think. They tried to burn down that place with the mirror I told you about, too, and they have that purple-eyed girl I saw the night I went out the window. We're going to try and spring her."

Audgrim takes the hanky and douses some more rubbing alcohol on it before stepping to Denver's side and leans in to survey the damage. Knowing it's almost impossible to even hurt her, he firmly holds her head at the back and manages to not get too distracted by warm flames that curl around his arm and finger. He rubs that hanky quite hard where she's painted. "Don't like birds," he growls. He's coming - no doubt about that. Looking at the handkerchief, it's got noticeble black stains on it - it works.

"I only know what you've shared with me about them. I know that guy had the bird-bitch watching after him, but she didn't care enough to protect him. I know that she really really doesn't like me, and the rest of them will probably be sent after me soon enough. Might as well take the fight to them." Denver stops chewing as Audgrim takes her head and starts to clean off the marker on her face. She stares up at him quietly, eyes big and almost sad as she stares. "Anyone that aligns themselves with that bitch needs to be put down. Count me in."

"Good," Eddie says, sounding like he means it. "Maybe you can take that unibrow out on them. Between you and Quiet we might actually pull this thing off. I figure you and him get their attention, start be-boning people, me and Penny creep around and see if we can't find Princess Mystery and get her out while they're all distracted getting murdered." He looks at Audgrim, trying to decide something, then finally just shrugs. His decider is rattled. "Up to you where you want to be. You can fight and you can sneak, so either way."

"I sneak," Audgrim decides, noticing that look from Denver. He just grins lazily at her, reassuringly; he bops her nose with a light touch of a claw. Then he presumes the vigorous cleaning up process and that marker unibrow is soon only the faintest outline - more of a mark from having been rubbed than anything else, and with her penchant for fast healing it'll be gone in a few minutes. "There, all gone. Don't have to kill me now."

"Sneaking is good. Less chance of getting hurt that way." Denver reaches up to touch Audgrim's arm for a moment before letting it drop back into her lap. Her eyes close as he finishes getting rid of the marker, only reopening when he pulls away. "I much prefer you alive, so that's a good thing." She rubs her forehead a little bit and sighs. "Quiet and I haven't had a chance to spar yet, but atleast I'll finally get to see him fight. I bet it will be awesome," she notes, reaching into the bag to grab more food and shovel it into her mouth.

"It'll be good to have someone who can fight on the creep crew, anyway," Eddie says, "in case things go wrong. Penny's pretty good with a baseball bat, but I don't think she can do the muscle trick." He slides along the wall, just a half step, and angles his head a little so he can look at those big sad eyes that Denver's got right now. He asks the Dragon something, and it tells him what it knows. Almost imperceptibly, he nods, confirmation and understanding all at once. "I've never seen the big guy fight," he admits, leaving his discovery alone, "but, well. Look at the guy."

Audgrim realises that sandwich is not eaten and snags it, beginning his own munching. He looks between the two Lost, and nods in agreement - seeing Mr. Quiet fight would be awesome. His tail is looping in lazy circles as life, as it is, is mostly not too bad right now. He shakes the tail a little extra - a cockroach has decided to crawl up on it, and he sets it down on the counter. Probably one of Lill-Jonas' friends. "Sometimes," he notes gently to Denver, "I need to fight. So I go with Eddie and Penny, and if they need someone hit, I hit them." Seems like a good middle path to take.

"Appearances can be deceiving. He could be a gentle giant. I know he isn't, but he could be. After all, looking at me, who would think I can do what I do?" Denver points out around a mouthful of potatc wedges. A dark cloud washes over the volcanic woman's face as Audgrim mentions the potential of him fighting with her not there. "I know. I'll just hope that it doesn't come down to that. I'll have to be super loud and distracting. I'm pretty sure I can manage that."

"He's big," Audgrim says, with his penchant for stating and repeating the obvious. "You're small." There, his half pence added, but it's to agree with Denver on her whole appearances can be deceiving part. He spears a piece of ham from his sandwich on a claw and drops it down for cockroach on the counter, eyeing Denver - his tail flicks a few times. "Yes, that would be best time to be really, really loud - draw enemies to you, we find girl and get her out. Maybe don't have to fight at all."

"Well you are made of lava," Eddie observes, "so I don't think I'd peg you for harmless, even if I'd never seen you chop a guy in half." He tries another snort at Audgrim's optimism, but it goes about as well as last time. He's going to have to take a break from them, or else rent a new nose from somebody. "Since when have we ever been that lucky? We'd just have to deal with them later, anyway. I'm just hoping our friend from the mountain doesn't put in an appearance. If it does," he addresses Denver, now, "you get the hell out of there. We're not ready for that, not with you and Quiet and the marines and everybody."

"She has a hit out on me, Grim. They're coming after me no matter what. Eddie and I managed to drop one of them, but he attacked when I was coming out of the grocery store. Imagine how many innocent people could have gotten hurt if it'd been earlier in the day?" Denver's head shakes. "If we can put them down while we're there, I'm damn well gonna. Maybe it'll send a message to our little feathered friend. She doesn't really like my messages." That gets a dark little grin from the woman, head bobbing in Eddie's direction. "He knows."

Audgrim grunts something unintelligeble - he is still going to be a bit of an optimist, watching Denver with a thoughtful frown. Finishing his sandwich, he proceeds to hand Denver a few sodas from a bag, togetehr with a bag of crisps. "You know how it looks, where we going?" he asks. "I mean, where woman is being." The girl they're about to rescue, obviously - his English is still quite odd at times.

"Somewhere Uptown," Eddie says, helpfully, "on 'Feather Street', I guess. I didn't want to poke around too much on my own." He doesn't seem to mind admitting that, cowardice or caution or however you want to look at it. "I've got her scent. I'm hoping once we're there I can follow that. Hopefully we'll be able to poke around a little before the commotion kicks off. It's a good thing you learned that face trick, it might come in handy." He waves his hand in front of his face, the way he did when he hardened his mask, though he doesn't actually do it this time. "Plus Penny was there when they tried to trade the girl for the crowns, so she ought to recognize the guys who had her."

"Scumbags," Denver mutters of the people who want to trade a person's life for crowns. But then, they're loyalists, so who can really say they're surprised? She takes the soda from Audgrim with a nods of thanks, cracking it open. She takes the chips too, settign them in her lap. "Thanks," she murmurs, her eyes lingering for a couple seconds too long, her fingers brushing his before she's glancing towards Eddie. "Smart not to go alone. We don't know what kind of man power they have."

One can almost see the sparks, when Denver touches his hand. But then, she's lava. Must be that. Audgrim's reaction is a twitch, a flick of his tail and a straightening of his back to his full height and he fumbles with opening his own can of soda. What were they talking about? "I saw them too," he reminds Eddie - that time they were exploring Nora's apartment.

Eddie taps his temple and grins, cracking the blood that's dried onto his upper lip, smart. "Not the same guys," he shakes his head at Audgrim, "those two were human. The ones I'm thinking of had feathers, and they showed up at the farmhouse a while back." He goes over and gets that beer he was after earlier, now that things seem to have calmed down a little between him and Denver, then gets back out of arms reach of anybody before he twists it open and comments: "You two are real cute together."

"I've only seen the one. And he's dead now, so that doesn't really help. I do kind of want you to shoot one of them with his gun, though, Eddie. For fun." There's a little rumble from the ogress, Denver clearly wanting each and every one of them dead. "I'm never going to be able to look at birds or feathers the same way again. I feel bad for any bird-like Lost that show up here in the next few years." Denver goes to take a drink of the soda, only to end up choking on it as Eddie makes that last comment. Her red eyes widen, fist pounding against her chest as the fizz burns down the wrong pipe.

Audgrim's hand buckles the can of soda, that's his reaction; he spills some of the liquid on the floor, which might just be an improvement. "I have to go," he says abruptly, avoiding to look at Denver. "Must get ready for tomorrow." He whirls around, knocking over an empty soda can with his tail as he flees out of the place.

Eddie mimics that you're-a-lucky-guy thumbs up that Audgrim gave him in this very apartment, not too long ago. He watches the Nightsinger flee, and watches Denver choke, and takes a moment to marinate in smugness. He hasn't had a chance to turn this particular table very much, since Ida came back to town. He shakes it off before his lips curl up at the edges like the Grinch, and goes to slap the ogre on the back to help her get her breath back, regardless of personal danger this could place him in. He's not always cautious, or even smart.

Denver manages to find air again, lifting her head just in time to spy Audgrim's dear in a headlight look before he flees the room. Her head turns to look at Eddie, question marks in her eyes as she straightens, pounding her chest a couple more times. "Why?" Another little cough, eyes closed as she regains her composure. "Why do you want so badly for me to kill you today?" she wonders of him. Her eyes reopen, brows lifting as she studies him. "Dude."

"That would be awfully hypocritical of you," Eddie explains, "so I'd be the moral victor. I've always wanted to try that, just once." He seems strangely unconcerned by the threat to his health and well-being, not even dodging out of arms reach again. He stands there, looking at the door Audgrim just ran through, thinking. "That," he finally says, "and somebody had to say something, or you'd just keep trading highschool looks 'til one of you got pecked to death. Call me a romantic, or blame it on the spring."

"I'm allowed to be hypocritical sometimes! Just like how I tell people that they shouldn't get into dangerous situations, but then go and do it myself." Atleast she's honest about it. But then, Denver is pretty much nothing but honest. To a fault. "I think that Ida is to blame for making you all romantic. It's sweet when it's not directed at me." She glares, but not in earnest like earlier. More food is dug out of the bag. She glances to the door, studying it quietly for a moment. "I don't think it has to be said. We both know there's something there. But… I may have to end up wearing a crown that straight up murders me. How can I get into something with someone knowing that?" Her eyes move back to him. "Last one?"

"How can you not?" Eddie laughs and actual laugh, since his snorter is broken. "Could be your last shot. Anyway, I hate to tell you, but you haven't got a monopoly on peril these days. You've got a talent for it, don't get me wrong, but we could all be dead tomorrow the way things are going." That last question gets sort of a dismissive sneer, and he waggles his fingers around his head, miming what might be smoke for hair. "You ought to follow him. I'm all out of pills, so I better rest up before tomorrow. Just try not to break too many of his ribs."

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