2019-07-26 - Lasagna

Itzhak shows up about twenty minutes later. He's brought something: a little wildflower bouquet of silky golden poppies, white daisies, and yellow coneflower. The flowers grow in proliferation at every roadside, Itzhak just hopped out and picked some. They still smell like sunlight.

Minerva is waiting out on the steps up to the apartment for Itzhak, he's never been here before so it might be a little confusing. She lives above her work so...it's easy to find at least. She's dressed in purple today, a very plainly tailored dress with a white collar that has tiny bats at each edge. She gives a smile when she sees Itzhak heading up and waves, "Well, those are lovely flowers." she grins as she steps down a few steps to meet him. She looks good at least, no more blood in her eye and her color is a bit rosier today.

"Hi." Itzhak jogs up the steps, his eyebrows tilted in that funny, emotional way. "You look better." Because it never occurs to him to politely keep his mouth shut. He glances down at the flowers. "They're just frikkin' everywhere. Why would anybody buy flowers, when you got these?" Okay, so romance isn't his strong suit. He offers the flowers over anyway with a crooked, anxious smile.

"Hi there." Minerva smiles warmly at him, it's one of those smiles that rarely gets seen. "I was looking a bit rough at the meeting I know, glad it's better though." she chuckles. "Remind me to tell you the story about the time my mom asked me to get a start of a flower...and it turned into me almost dying of laughter instead." she grins to that. She takes the flowers and there's a gentle sniff as she brings them to her nose. She lowers them after the sniff though, "They're still warm. They're lovely, thank you." she states as she leans in a bit to kiss his cheek. "Come on up, dinner is almost ready." she tells him quietly.

Itzhak promptly blushes as Minerva kisses his unshaven cheek. They're the perfect height to facilitate that kiss, with him a couple steps down and her a step up. "I, uh. I'm glad you like 'em." He follows her up to the apartment, still red as a tomato. "Okay, I definitely gotta hear that story."

Minerva is good and does not immediately start teasing the man when he blushes so red. She leads him into the apartment, which spans the entire second floor of the building. It's an open loft type deal with lots of brick and so much sunlight gets to spill through the windows.

And something smells wonderful. "What can I get you to drink? I've got sodas, juice, beer, water...vodka tequila. Basically if you want it it's in here." She states.

"I really could use something to drink," Itzhak admits. "I had this buddy was a bartender, he taught me how to make some easy stuff. You got any lemons, limes? I can make vodka sodas." He's talking distractedly while looking around. "Man, your place is fantastic. Whatever you're cooking smells amazing."

Minerva watches him as he looks around, "Thanks. I figured I'd just live up here until I actually need a house." She smiles to that. "And I have lemons and lime, yep. In the fridge in the drawer." She points out the fridge as she looks under the counter for a vase. "Is lasagna alright?" She asks as she finds one.

"What could a house do better than this place?" Itzhak starts rattling around in the kitchen like it was his own, except he doesn't know where anything is. Knife, glasses, vodka--he rummages in the fridge for the fruit. "Nothin', that's what! Lasagna is perfect."

Minerva gives a bit of a smile, "Well, houses are more for families and things. Or at least for when I find someone that's serious or in it for the long run I guess." she chuckles to that as she gets the flowers in a vase. The kitchen isn't hard to navigate and Itz can find what he needs. "Glad that you like it then." she muses as he tells her there's nothing wrong with lasagna. "I'm glad you came over, by the way." she tells him as she gets plates out.

Itzhak slices lime and even, concentrating with his tongue stuck in the corner of his mouth, carves delicate strips of peel for garnish. He manages not to slice his thumb. Dexterity! "Almost everyone in Manhattan grew up in an apartment. Well, who was born there, anyway. Place is about seventy percent people who moved there."

He looks up, smiles crookedly. "Yeah? I'm glad you asked me over. I want you to check me over for, you know, anything not kosher." His smile fades and he focuses on mixing the drinks. "Roen already did, but...now they got me second-guessing myself."

"I could always have a contractor put in a few walls towards the back, build another lofted space. I think it's got a lot of potential up here. And it's nice to just...walk down the stairs and be at work." Minerva smiles to that. "Nothing wrong with apartments. I'm sure in Manhattan getting a house is really expensive." she frowns. Then there's a smile to him, "I like seeing you. Whether you're in a bad mood or not." she admits. "And you want me to...check the memories and things?" she asks him.

"Yeah." Itzhak leans a narrow hip against the counter. He sips his drink experimentally, decides it's good, takes a longer drink. "I never really let anyone do that kind of thing to me before, but...maybe it's time I did." His smile reappears, briefly, when Minerva says she likes seeing him. "You're a rare breed then, most folks don't want me within ten miles when I'm in a bad mood."

Minerva settles plates on the counter and the time on the oven for the lasagna, "Still a few more minutes." she tells him. Then she leans against the counter and there's a look to him. She gives a bit of a smile, "I promise I won't delve anywhere that I shouldn't. Allowing someone in and then them biting you is a bitch. So we won't go there." she nods. Then she chuckles, "Mmm, you're not the first angry person that I've known. One did like to punch things though. How /is/ your hand doing after that fight with the tree?" she asks him.

Itzhak holds up his left hand, with a quirk of an eyebrow. "Roen fixed me up." He offers over Minerva's drink, saying with a lopsided little smile, "You wouldn't never do that. I know."

Minerva gives a look to his hand and there's a smile, "Good, I was worried about that, but the night was just an awful mess." she admits. She gives a smile and takes the offered drink, "Thank you." she tells him before she takes a sip. "That's really good." she grins to that. Then she watches him for a moment, "No, I'd not do it, you're right. Unless I needed to find out where someone was and not to someone I want to keep around." she chuckles.

"You ain't gonna hear anything from me against that." Itzhak ticks his glass to Minerva's. "L'chaim." He drinks. "It is good, huh? My old buddy had a real gift. Also, alcoholism, but hell, can't blame him. ...So, I was going to tell you what happened, but maybe I should just let you, uh, watch?" Now he's pinkening up again.

Minerva smiles to that, "Well, that's good." she teases him. "I like it, nice and refreshing...and boozy. So it's nice." she smiles. She was totally fine with drinking. "Sometimes people cope by drinking. Sometimes it's a little too much, but if he's healthy otherwise..." she shrugs a bit. "Everyone has a vice or two." she admits. Then she looks to him and there's a soft smile, "Sure. If you want me to watch I can do that." she tells him quietly. "Want to do it now or after dinner?" she asks him.

Itzhak tips back a swallow, the muscles of his long neck working. He pulls a grimace. "Now. Right now, before I chicken out." To give himself courage, he downs the rest of the drink. Then, really turning red, he offers Minerva his hand, which is big even for how tall he is, calloused, and with DOWN on the knuckles in faded blue.

Minerva gives a chuckle, "I wouldn't call you a chicken. I mean...probably not." she teases him. She steps away from the counter and takes the offered hand. "It'll be fine." she whispers to him as she brings his hand to her lips and plants a soft kiss on the knuckles. It's slow enough just in case he wants to pull them back. "I've not done this in awhile. So apologies if I need to...focus more than usual." she admits. Then she lets her eyes close and a deep breath is taken.

Itzhak takes in a sharp little breath when Minerva's lips touch his scarred, tattooed knuckles. He awkwardly shifts his weight against the counter and clears his throat. "That's...that's okay," he mutters. "I ain't in any hurry." He closes his eyes, too.

The first obvious thing about his mind is there's a lot going on in there. Layers and layers like a huge, complicated engine. One that probably plays music. He's not just smart, he's got real genius. Things are wired funny, his autism boosting certain senses way out of proportion, there's a good amount of crosstalk.

He's not resisting her, he's just struggling to let her in. Then he takes a deeper breath, lets it out slow, deliberately relaxing. Opening up. Accepting, although he's twitchy about it. An unavoidable sense of penetration and an echo of a memory of pleasure, and she's in (he gasps again, softly). Itzhak takes a moment to get himself together. Then he shows her everything he experienced past the border of the Veil.

It's a lot. Itzhak met people, fought some of them and helped others. His power bloomed in him like ink in water. Nothing he encountered was specifically and explicitly evil. Just people living their lives and pursuing their own goals.

However, the woman Zayith, the one who is really a unicorn--Itzhak remembers her as if she glows.

Minerva doesn't force herself into things. She lets him take his time to let her in and there's a bit of a smile as he does. She makes notes of what she sees and what she feels. "Your power grew." she states it in quiet tone. She takes everything in, but it would be a lot to go through later. She gives a smile at the memory of the woman. She opens her eyes though, "Nothing seems evil or like it's trying to trick you. I don't get that sense at all." she shakes her head.

"The unicorn? You have bright memories of her." Minerva smiles. "Is she a reminder of someone from the past?" she asks him.

"It changed. It got deeper, somehow? Like the throttle got jammed open." Itzhak opens his eyes, slow, looking a little dazed. He licks his dry lips, picks up his glass to get at the melting ice at the bottom. "Zayith?" he says, and smiles, full and brilliant for just a flash of a second. "Nah, she's...she's just like that on her own. I don't guess I'll ever see her again, though." Shrug. Like it ain't no thing. But it's a thing. "I'm glad you see it was okay," he adds quieter. "If you talked to Roen, I'd consider it a big favor."

Minerva hmm quietly as she listens to him and there's a nod, "I think I've heard about that happening, but I'm not sure it's a bad thing." she admits. "You have a crush on a veil girl." she points out. She wasn't teasing him. "Wonder if we could find her again." she ponders softly. She gives the hand she has a hold of a soft squeeze and looks up to him, "Sure, I'll talk to August the next time we run into each other. Which is happening pretty regularly." she chuckles.

Itzhak laughs low and rubs the back of his neck, glancing away. "I maybe do. I maybe get crushes way too easy on people. Comes from growing up the weird kid who nobody liked." He squeezes her hand back, shyly. "Oh, you're talking to Roen a lot, huh," he says, teasing her back a little, smiling. "He's easy to talk to. Kinda like you."

"Sounds like we shared something in common as we were younger. No one wants to hang out with the weird kid who lost her eye." Minerva shrugs. "You've got friends now and ones that probably have crushes on your too." she grins. She doesn't let his hand go, but it's not a death grip either. "We run into each other at the same places. Like the Waffle Shoppe." she muses. "And I thought it would be nice to get to know him." she admits. "I'm glad we're easy to talk to. I know he'd do anything for you probably." she smiles softly to that.

Itzhak rubs his thumb over Minerva's hand. He ducks his head. "For me? Really? I mean, we're pals, but I ain't even been in town that long. He's a good guy, though. I know that." Then he goes ahead and risks lifting her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. Turning red as he does so. "You're really kind. Thanks."

"Doesn't take that long to figure out if someone is going to be worth your time or if they're going to be your friend. Sometimes we're all drawn together. It's like having a bit of a support when no one else understands." Minerva admits. There's a soft blush when he kisses her knuckles, "How about we get you some dinner and a drink and we can talk over dinner?" she offers in a quiet tone. "Mom and Dad said we should be kind to people. Until they bite us." she chuckles.

"Yeah, okay." Itzhak lets Minvera go. "They're wise, your mom and dad, you know? You're lucky to have 'em. Nu," he adds, as he goes to help put dinner on the table, "I've rattled on to you about me for a million years at this point. You talk, okay? I want to hear what you think."

Minerva gives a smile when he talks on her parents, "I think my dad has been running around trying to find something for you to fix /just/ so he can have you over and talk." she chuckles. She grabs drinks if he can grab the plates. "I don't mind listening to you talk." she points out as she takes a seat. "I can talk...just...what do I talk about? My week? The bad luck streak that made me almost knock myself unconscious?" she muses. "There are a few good things going on right now. Work and friends. Just hope that holds out." she admits.

Itzhak wastes no time tucking into the lasagna. He's not a small dude and he works a lot, he's hungry! "Yeah! Talk about your week. Tell me the good things. Oh man, is it going around, that bad luck? I nearly caught a finger in the shop press. What happened?"

Minerva gives a look to him and there's a smile after taking a bite of lasagna, she makes sure her mouth isn't full when she speaks at least. "Week has been okay. I'm meeting with Amelia twice a week so far. She's doing really good as far as recovery goes." she admits. "So that's a good part of the week. Found out that my mom and dad are going out of the country in November." she shakes her head. "And yes, the bad luck is going around. I hit my head on the counter twice. Then tried to trip over someone at the Waffle place. Waiting for my bike chain to fuck up next." she laughs.

"Hey, that's fantastic to hear," Itzhak says, eyebrows tilting poignantly. "That poor kid. My niece is about her age, my sister's kid. Miriam. My niece, not my sister, my sister's Naomi. Where ya folks going?" He winces, looking at Minerva's hair. "Well, uh, good news is, if your bike chain goes ferkakt, you know a guy who can fix it." And he actually grins at her, lopsided and rakish.

Minerva gives a soft smile to him, "She's strong, so it will help with the healing. The good thing is she doesn't remember a lot of things, so I'm hoping it's just going to be something that won't unearth itself in a few years and break her." she admits. "I think they are still trying to decide whether they want to go to Tel Aviv, Haifa or Jerusalem. We have family over there so I think they are going to visit and catch up." she smiles to that. Then she grins, "I do know a guy that can fix things. Is there anything that you can't fix?" she teases him gently before taking another bite of food.

Itzhak damn near polishes his plate, but manages, gentleman-like, to refrain from actually licking it. To answer Minerva's question, he shrugs, grin fading to a rueful half-smile. "Plenty. I can only fix machines. Anything to do with people, I just make worse." He gets up to serve himself some more lasagna. Hopefully Minerva didn't plan on leftovers.

Minerva gives a grin when he gets up to get seconds, though his words make him look to him curiously. "I don't think you've done anything that would make things worse. Or if you have I don't think anyone's waiting to hit you over it. Or well, I don't think I am." she chuckles. "August cares about you. I know that's for sure and I care for you. I know I've not known you for a long time, but I'd not want to see you hurt or down on your luck." she explains. "And I'm going to ramble if I keep up." she chuckles as she sips her drink.

"No, well, you're a very kind lady. You wouldn't wanna see anybody hurt." Itzhak looks at Minerva with a wistful sort of melancholy, under those expressive eyebrows. "Thanks. For, you know. Caring about me. Ramble, go ahead, ramble! God knows I've talked your ear off." And his mouth is going to be busy, lasagna needs to go in it.

Minerva gives an amused look to him, "I might be a pretty nice lady, but I've wished ill on plenty of people. There's so many scumbags out there." she frowns. "Just...if I hurt someone then I'm not going to be able to help the kids and I love my job and I love making sure the kids are safe. So I'm not going to shoot myself in the foot, you know?" she states with a smile. "Plus we've got all this other weirdness to combat that I'll just let the police handle the more mundane things." she adds.

"Feh, wishing ill, everybody does that. It don't mean nothing." Itzhak does one of those long hesitating pauses again. Like he's thinking about saying something, but then doesn't. "This lasagna is great," he says, instead of whatever he was going to. "If it ain't obvious by the way I'm inhaling it."

"Yeah, most talk a good game." Minerva grins. Most didn't have the ability to electrocute someone to death though! When he hesitates, she can see it. Feel it ever and she looks to him, "Thank you, it's my moms recipe." she tells him. "I can send leftovers home with you if you'd like?" she asks him. Then she leans back in her chair, "You know...you don't need to feel uncomfortable with what you say around me. If that's why you hesitated and didn't." she tells him.

Itzhak actually laughs, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. "I like that you can electrocute someone." He is not even kidding, with the look he gives her. But then he gets more subdued. "I do, though. I kinda do. I'm a scumbag. No seriously," he anticipates her saying otherwise, "you don't know a lot about me."

Minerva gives a look to him and there's a smile that makes her seem a bit more feral, but she nods, "It's a good way to save money on a stun gun." she chuckles. Then she sobers and looks across the table at him, not avoiding the man. "Would you tell me what happened? I know you did some time. Prison ink is the same language all over the world really." she states in a quiet tone. "And I'd like to know more about you, but you don't seem like a man that just throws open the doors to people." she states with a bit of a smile. "And I don't really blame you for it." she adds.

Itzhak also likes that smile. He's a little surprised at it; one eyebrow and that same side corner of his mouth lift, in a pleased 'well hey now' expression. Then he pulls a long, expressive, very Yiddish grimace and looks down at his knuckles. "Yeah...I keep getting them touched up, too, and I'm never exactly sure why. Maybe because I paid so heavy for 'em, you know? They didn't come cheap." He pushes his plate away as if he's lost his appetite. "Started boosting cars when I was a kid. We didn't have no money, Pop died, I just...kinda went off the rails. It was easy to boost 'em and move 'em, so I did. Got caught up in a lot of stuff I didn't really mean to. Eventually got caught. GTA, resisting arrest, assault on a police officer..." He laughs, thin and bitter. "They didn't have enough to charge me on a bunch of other stuff."

Minerva listens to him as she sips the vodka drink he'd made her. She was patient so it didn't matter if it was going to take a bit. There's a soft frown when he mentions that he lost his father so young. "I'm sorry that you lost your father so young. I don't know what I'd do without mine." she admits quietly. There's a look to him, "I've had a few young kids in that talked about the stuff they were doing. One was twelve and was delivering drugs for the money. We do some horrible things to survive in this world sometimes." she states. "So just the GTA and assault?" she asks him carefully.

Itzhak stands up, so abruptly he bumps the table and makes all the dishware clatter. "I'm sorry, I gotta go," he mutters. "I can't...Irvriya, I'm sorry, I can't."

Minerva winces as she realizes she should have just stopped while she was ahead. She stands up and there's a flush of red from being angry with herself, "No, it's my fault. Nothing for you to be sorry about. I just shoved my foot in my mouth." she tells him. "I...if you want to go that's alright. But at least take some lasagna with you." she tells him as she looks to her hands. She was so good at screwing things up.