2019-07-30 - Laundry Day: Date #2

It's a rainy summer day; still warm but also quite muddy and humid. Not really the day to be going out and about, but Corey has chores he needs to do. So, after dropping a text to Ash he heads on down to the Suds'n'Duds laundromat, a large backpack slung over one shoulder which presumably holds dirty laundry, and a smaller bag swinging from his hand, which has the necessary soaps and stuff in. He's in a good mood, whistling to himself as he claims one of the half-dozen machines, starting to load it up.

Instead of a return text, because that would be 1) too polite and 2) ruin the ambush, Ash just shows up at the laundromat sometime later. Not having the need to do laundry of her own she doesn't bring anything with her except a grocery bag full of something that looks heavy. Taking the time to spot him through the window before entering allows her to head straight for him once she's pushed through the door. Goal #1, sneak up behind him.

Nothing ever goes wrong in these efforts.

By the time Ash arrives, Corey has loaded up his machine, added laundry detergent and set it going with the requisite sacrifice of quarters. He's settled in a chair near his machine, where he can look up now and again to see if it's done, and is otherwise playing some kind of game on his phone, oblivious to the outside world. Oblivious to his impending doom.

That doom comes when Ash finishes her very sneaky approach from behind, dropping onto the chair behind him with one knee, the grocery bag that she'd been carrying is swung around and dropped in his lap, "Surprise!" She'd honestly be the worst assassin in creation, but possibly the best present bringer if someone were into icecream being dumped in their lap.

Doot doot doot. Nothing to see here, just Corey tapping squares on pixel-painting game, entirely unaware of..

"Augh!" There's a yelp of surprise as a bag of super cold stuff is deposited into his lap, and Corey lurches forwards, halfway out of his seat before he realises 1) it's in a grocery bag, 2) it came from behind, and 3) there's a ninja in that seat. Settling back down as the shock subsides, he twists such that he can see Ash, grinning brightly. "Hey!" Trying to pretend like he wasn't caught out. Looking down, he inspects the bag, pulling out the icecream carton. "Ooh. Great idea. Got any spoons?"

"Should be some plastic spoons in the bottom of the bag." Ash waves a hand at the bag in question before she gets to her feet, and instead of walking around the chairs to his side, she climbs over the top, dropping herself into the chair next to him. "I really wasn't sure what flavor you'd like, considering your treacherous like of anchovies, I figured I'd be safe with the rocky road. But then I went....maybe he's not into that, so then I grabbed the moose tracks, because..." She gestures at him. "But I said no, not that either. So I went with vanilla."

"I like vanilla, it's the finest of the flavours," Corey tells Ash after she explains her dilemma over choosing the right ice cream. Possibly also quoting the Barenaked Ladies. Digging out the spoons, he offers one to the ninja, before peeling off the wrap and opening the tub, wedging it between their two chairs so they've both got equal access to the yummy. "Also, thank you," he adds, scooping some onto his spoon and popping it into his mouth. "Mm."

"The finest of flavors?" Ash looks highly doubtful of this fact, her legs crossing as she takes the offered spoon, "I really like coffee flavored ice cream too." She reaches down to get a spoonful of the vanilla to pop into her mouth, glancing around the laundromat before she looks back at him, "So this is really the most awesome second date I've ever had." There is a bit of tease in her voice for the reference to his text.

"Yep." Corey stands by his assertion, and after another spoonful of deliciousness, adds, "Coffee icecream is okay, but super hit-and-miss. Sometimes it's amazeballs, sometimes it's just.. meh." Which is probably also true of vanilla, but there you go. "It is? Babe, you've had some terrible second dates, then," he decides, grinning at Ash. "I mean, there isn't even any alcohol, and the soundtrack the DJ is playing is kinda repetitive." By which he means the monotonous rumble and grumble of the washing machines.

"There isn't?" Ash wonders, her eyes going wide at him before she reaches into her back pocket, then her front pockets before she pats herself down to her shoes and back, "You're right, I failed in my duties as bringer of alcohol." She slumps in her chair, her head falling backwards so that she's looking upwards at the ceiling, "Why, why?!" She raises her hands, spoon clutched in one of them as she shakes them at the ceiling in mock-anger.

Adopting a faux-shocked face, Corey watches as Ash reveals her failure and rails at the uncaring ceiling. "In my time of need, Ash. In my time of need you failed me. You failed us," he intones, adding to her drama, and also subtly stealing the ice-cream tub for a few more scoops. Om nom nom. "I don't know how we're gonna get past this, babe."

"Probably for the best you realize early on how much of a failure I am." Ash's far too cheerful in that response to believe anything she says, or he says. Or potentially anyone says. Also she seems willing to let him take the ice cream as his own, instead tucking the plastic spoon into her back pocket where it'll undoutedly be broken into a million pieces eventually. "I had an idea."

Eating more ice cream, though offering the carton back over after a few minutes, Corey cocks his head slightly. "An idea?" he prompts, his expression and tone both openly curious. Setting the ice cream down, he stands and goes to inspect his washing machine - it did that thing where it pauses for just long enough that it mmiiiiight be done, only to start again when Corey reaches it. Hmph. He sits back down, returning his attention to Ash.

"We should put a door in between the fences, in the back yard." Ash reaches for the ice cream with one hand, pulling the spoon back out of her back pocket, "It'd be a faster trip between the houses then going out the front door and across the yards." Reality? No. It'd be the same amount of distance, just feels like it's shorter. "Plus, we should all have some cook out before fall semester starts...and I suggest soon."

"Yes, and yes," Corey agrees, with both of her ideas. Well, that was easy, no convincing required. "Maybe combine cookout with a celebration of the fact that I got hired earlier today." Between crepes and laundromat he's been busy, it would seem. "Hence why I'm getting my kitchen whites washed." A nod to the machine.

Ash glances towards the machine nodded towards, then back towards him, "Why would you wear white clothes in a kitchen?" Curious minds want to know, Corey! But that's really not the most important question that she should be asking. "Alright, so cookout celebration for Corey getting a job, and for being crazy enough to wear white clothes in a kitchen. Or brave enough, maybe both?" She takes a bite of the ice cream, then pauses, "Where'd you get a job at?"

"It's standard for chefs. Checked trousers and a white double-breasted jacket," Corey replies with a grin. "It's just what we wear." He's never looked into why white, but then again, he's usually out back rather than being seen by customers. "Pātisserie Vydal. Had my interview earlier today. Also for real, the head chef there - Mr Vydal - is like one of the most intense people I've ever met." It doesn't seem to be a criticism; most people at the top of their game are pretty driven, after all.

"So this is what, a fancy cake place?" Ash takes a final bite of the ice cream before she holds the tub back out in his direction, wiggling it just a bit, "Because if you're going to be making cakes, I really think you should make a fancy cake for the cook out. Seventeen tiers, each one a different flavor, with towering uh...like, things." Things. So many things, Corey. "Seriously though, that sounds really cool. I've never been in, but I walked past it once and it smelled amazing."

"Yeah, specifically it's French cakes and pastries," the culinary student confirms, taking the ice cream tub and scooping his spoon back into it. Nom. "Seventeen tiers? Ha. How about three? Lemon drizzle, chocolate, and vanilla sponge?" Corey counter-proposes, completely ignoring the 'things'. So many things being ignored. "Yeah, it'll be an education as well as paying decently," he agrees, though his definition of 'decently' might have a lower bar set than others. Low-ranking kitchen folk don't tend to drive porches, after all.

"Oh. French cakes and pastries. Oh la la." Ash wouldn't know a French cake from an Italian cake, but what she does know is cake is always good. Except... "Lemon drizzle?" She shakes her head at that, reaching into her pocket the pull her phone out, thumb swiping the pattern on it to unlock it before she can pull up a text message, "No. Maybe...Strawberry? Or..." She tilts her head back, closing her eyes as she thinks about what goes with chocolate and vanilla, other than the automatically chosen strawberry. "Maybe peanutbutter?"

Hmming quietly, Corey ponders this and then muses, "Or, I could do a chocolate-and-vanilla marbled sponge, and then the other tiers are strawberry and peanut butter. How does that sound?" He scrapes the last smears of ice cream from the carton, licking his spoon clean and then finding a trash can to drop the now-empty tub and his spoon into. Along with Ash's spoon if she's still got it.

Cole pulls up outside the laundromat and comes in, a large dark green drawstring laundry bag slung over one shoulder, making him look hunched like a sherpa with a loaded pack about to scale Mt. Launderest. He's got a smaller bag with his own detergent and stuff in it as well, and the entire load gets plopped down in front of a pair of modern washers. He begins pulling stuff out, dumping darks into one washer, lights into the other.

When the ice cream is all gone there is a willing passing over of the spoon, "So...three tiers. One being both chocolate and vanilla...then peanut butter and strawberry?" Ash seems to think about this, and think hard. Whatever might have been about to be said is cut off when a new person arrives, and she glances in that direction to check if it is someone she recognizes. No. But that doesn't stop her from waving as she suggests to Corey, "Could you put caramel with the peanut butter?"

"I could," Corey replies, sounding faintly dubious about that flavour combination. And then happily Cole arrives, so he can get a second opinion. "Hey, dude," he calls over amiably to the guy with the mountain of dirty laundry. "Peanut butter and caramel. Good combo or bad?" He flops back down in the chair next to Ash's, legs sprawled and arms folding comfortably.

Cole gives a wave to Ash when he notices the movement, glancing up after splitting the bag of laundry up into the two separate washers. He then adds in some detergent, and fishes around in his pocket for some coins, which he slides into the slots and gets the load started. That done, he drops the smaller bag in the larger bag, and sets it on top of one of the washers he's using. "Good combo," Cole says as he pulls himself up to sit on the washer, facing Ash and Corey where they sit. "Though preferably with chocolate, as well."

"See?" Ash waves her hands in Cole's direction, "He gets it..." She then smiles cheerfully at him, "Thank you for being wise in the ways of peanut butter and caramel." She leans back in her seat, stretching her legs out in front of her before she looks at Corey, sticking her tongue out at him.

The stuck-out-tongue is returned in kind; Corey being the model of mature behaviour that he is, then he grins at both Ash and Cole. "Okay. Peanut butter, caramel and chocolate. In my mind, it's gotta be a chocolate sponge with a peanut butter filling and caramel frosting. That way you get all three flavours distinctly, but easily combined." A sidelong look at Ash and he prompts, "The other two layers feel kinda redundant now."

"My pleasure," Cole laughs a little bit, wrapping his hands over the edge of the washer and balancing there, leaning forward a bit and glancing out the windows at the weather beyond for a moment or two. He does catch Ash sticking her tongue out at Corey and chuckles a little when he returns fire. "Flavors for what, by the way?" he asks, idly curious. "Oh, cake.. that .. actually sounds really good."

"You're the expert on this." Ash just has opinions. Not expert ones. "Although the strawberry does feel distinctly out of place now that the one tier is going to be that fancy." She slouches further in her seat, leaning her head back, eyes closing, "Are you suggesting that I don't get my amazing, epic, totally awesome three tiered cake? You've already cut me down from seventeen." She glances over at Cole, "He's going to make a fancy cake."

"Yeah. We're gonna do a cookout at some point. Wanna come?" Corey responds to Cole, his invitation casual but also genuine. To Ash he suggests, "Maybe there only need to be one cake - that one - but also maybe some strawberry scones. I could also do some madeleines or something, since half of it is for me getting that job." He pushes up from his seat, pacing over to check his machine again - just one or two away from the one Cole is sat at. "I'm Corey, by the way, and that's Ash," he adds, maybe a little belatedly.

"Strawberry should go on top," Cole suggests. "Kind of like the bit of fruit at the top of the other layers, besides, peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches are pretty good. Who says strawberry can't go with it?" He pulls one knee up, resting his foot on the edge of the washer and wraps his arms around his leg, setting his chin on his knee. "Sounds like it," he says to Ash with a grin. He looks a little surprised when he's invited, "Oh, uh, sure? I mean, for the selfish reason of cake alone." When Corey introduces them he says, "Cole."

"Not even a clue what a madeleines is." Ash, ever the picture of uneducatedness when it comes to food. "But I'm okay with cookies." She starts to sit up a little straighter, crossing her legs, "There is this fancy tea place, I can't remember the owners name other than it was super weird....But...but. She had a bunch of fancy teas. I can get some...it'll be some weird tea party cookout, everyone'll be confused. It. Will. Be. Amazing." She glances at Cole with her next suggestion, "Should probably give one of us your number."

"Tiny cakes," Corey supplies to Ash as she admits her utter ignorance of the delight that is a perfectly baked madeleine. He digs out his phone and fires off a text, then looks curious at the mention of teas. "Sure. So we definitely need scones, then." Because obviously. To Cole, he then muses, "That's not a bad shout, but I'm hesitant. Too many flavours in one go and it risks becoming all muddy."

"True enough, but strawberry madeleines would be amazing," Cole says, "Maybe with the tiniest drop of cream cheese frosting on the ends -- not enough to overwhelm." He considers, not seeming to have any problems sharing his opinions on the topic of baking and flavors for a party being thrown by complete strangers. Though when his number is mentioned, he fishes out his phone and holds it out. "Just text yourself something, then we'll have each other's numbers," he says, clearly to both of them.

Ash's phone makes a noise, and she glances down at it, then clicks the link in the text. The very first thing that pops into her mind is, "Seashells!" Only, cake. She then nods, "So those are madeleines...they look really cute. I am so very down for them..." She then reaches over, grabbing Corey's arm, "Oh! Oh! We can decorate it like a garden with cockel shells and silver bells." Because more work is great, right? The offer of the phone distracts her from shaking Corey to death and she reaches forward to grab it.

"Sure, if you do the decorating," Corey tells Ash, shaking his head and letting her do the phone thing first, before then doing the same and passing the phone back to Cole. "You've got a good imaginary taste palette, man. What do you do for a living?" he wonders, maybe suspecting a fellow culinary nerd.

Cole grins when Ash figures out what the little cakes look like and nods, "They're good." He lets her take the phone and then settles back a bit. Watching as the party begins to grow in scope, he grins as the decorating gets shifted off on Ash. He then reclaims the phone with a "Thanks," tucking it back into his pocket. "I took over the Dance Evolution studio downtown," he says, "But I used to be a ballet dancer."

"I can do the decorating thing." It'll be fine. She tucks her phone into her pocket after getting everything phone related sorted out, her legs crossing before she leans to the side, dropping her head on Corey's shoulder, whispering loudly to him, "I'm going to put fancy paper umbrellas in the garden cake." Fair warning. Then she glances back at Cole, her brows lifting, "Like, for real?"

It will almost certainly not be fine, but Corey leaves that with Ash; either the silver bells and cockle shells will work out or they won't. Not his problem! "Shouldn't you be putting them in the cocktails?" he asides on the subject of paper umbrellas, then tilts his head a bit as Cole mentions doing dance. "Wow. Guess you must be pretty fit, then?" It's an observation rather than a flirtation, his curiosity clear. "How's business?"

"If you need some help decorating," Cole offers to Ash. Since he's been invited, it seems he figures he should at least offer to help out -- since no one wants him cooking. "Yeah, like for real," he laughs a little bit at the question. He doesn't seem to take the question other than Corey intended it. "I stay in shape, yeah. Though I don't dance professionally anymore." Certainly not all the way out here, at any rate. "It's alright. Lots of local kids do tap and ballet, and then the local gymnastics team rents out half of the space for all their practices, and some instructors teach gymanstics there, as well, so it stays afloat."

"I can put them in the drinks, too. I can put them everywhere." Ash seems all for putting paper umbrellas every where, at least for now. There is no telling what she'll actually do the day it comes for her to make the drinks and decorate the cake. When Cole offers to help with the latter she shakes her head, "Nah. You're a guest. Just show up and bring a bottle of something."

"So, I'm thinking this cookout needs entertainment. Maybe karaoke, maybe a dance-off," Corey suggests, grinning broadly. "I mean, Cole is obviously gonna wipe the floor with pretty much anyone from 9 or 7, but we can play for second, right?" Pushing up out of his chair, he then announces, "I'm gonna nip across to Espresso Yourself and grab a coffee. Anyone else want one while I'm there?"

"A bottle of something, I can do," Cole says with a little salute to Ash. He laughs a little bit at the entertainment suggestions and says, "I will definitely not win at Karaoke though." He tugs out his wallet and grabs some cash, holding it out to Corey. "Mocha? That'd be awesome."

Laundry day. Maybe Alfie hadn't done it in prepare for the move, or maybe his wardrobe isn't all that expansive. Either way, he's bound for the laundromat on a summer day in a fall gray-plaid button up, with the sleeves rolled up so high that it's doing its best t-shirt impression. He's carrying a quarter-full black garbage bag rolled around one wrist, weighed down enough that there's likely not just clothes within and likely detergent as well. In his other hand is a battered hardcover book. Opening one of the double doors in front proves a little more awkward, given the garbage bag, but he manages with only a fumble or two before he slips in through the gap that he's created.
Given that he does a double take at Corey, he probably didn't realize he could have carpooled here, rather than walk. And Ash earns some instant recognition, as well, he lifts his book to wave before he detours to patrol the washing units for one to claim for himself. Still, a little late to have caught the offer of caffeinated beverage.

"I wouldn't mind something. Anything. As long as there is whipped cream on top, and caramel, and chocolate. With lots of sugar." Ash replies, lifting her hands up to give Corey her best puppy-dog-please-feed-me look. Then she drops her hands to address the more important portion of things, "I think karaoke is a fucking amazing plan. I bet that Ast'll love it too. Your sister, too, right? And Runa." There's too damn many musical people. When Alfie arrives there is a lift of her hand, waving in his direction.

Taking Cole's money, Corey nods to the other guy. Ash gets a lazy grin - he'll get her a drink, sure, but whether it's a frothy sweet confection is another question. He almost bumps into Alfie when his housemate struggles with the door, standing to the side briefly so he's not in the way. "Hey, Alf. Want something from the coffee place?" he asks, waiting for an answer and then slipping out to head over and get drinks for the waiting-for-the-washing-machines crew.

Oh, hey. Look. It's Astrid. She is coming in with Marius, having the Viking boy carrying both their bags of laundry. The brunette is dressed in shorts and a flowing tank top in white with a little cartoon earth that pronounces 'Ready For A New Revolution!' Her flipflops go flippity-floppity along the floor with her steps. "I'm here!" This is announced with very little flourish, though she is wagging her phone because at some point Ash had texted her that she was at the laundromat.

Cole is seated on top of one washer and his lumpy green bag with the drawstring that he brought his clothes in that currently only contains the bottle of detergent and dryer sheets sits on the other one, his two loads turning over and over within. He chats idly with Ash and Corey as they wait. "Karaoke is fun. I'm definitely not any good at it, but I'm all for it." He seems to shy away a bit from the topic of a dance competition for some reason, though. A hand is lifted to wave to Alfie, since the others seem to know him. And then there is the first familiar face of the evening, "Oh, hey Astrid," he says when she announces her presence.

It's amazing how much laundry working construction requires. Marius has one laundry bag over his shoulder, and the other under his other arm. He's wearing board shorts, a white a-shirt, and an open bowling shirt advertising The Honeyed Raider. "Look... I get one nail in the laundry, and I have to keep washing here all the time?" He snorts, shaking his head, "I think that's totally unfair. I mean, the holes were tiny."

Coffee place. Alfie nods, slow, just processing the offer, mid machine inspection. And likely carrying a whiff of strong indica, buried into his current attire (gray-plaid shirt, rolled up sleeves, beat up sneaks, blue jeans). "Cold brew. Or just, like, coffee-coffee. Need cash?" He moves on, after Corey does, and goes back to looking for a washing machine to claim.
Score. Alfie finds a machine that is neither running or housing an unattended load of clothes, varied in sogginess. He sets his book on top of the next machine, opens the door, and fishes his detergent bottle out of the bag before feeding the rest of its contents into the unit. Garbage bag scrunched, it gets shoved into the pocket of the torn blue jeans he's allocated to the last resort section of his closet. "Karaoke?" he asks, from what of the parting conversation that he's caught, and gives Cole two looks, like deciding if he's supposed to recognize the other party present before his attention is caught by Viking and co. He lifts his hand to wave, book free this time.

"Astrid!" Ash leaps up from her chair, moving towards her at speed, arms thrown around her neck, and a kiss planted on her cheek, "We are talking about putting a door in the fence between the two houses. And." Wait for it. "Having a cook-out...with fancy cake, and karaoke." She keeps one arm across her friend's shoulders, glancing towards Alfie at his question, "Karaoke." She confirms. "Which I'm totally not participating in, because my ego can't handle it. Also, Cole is going to do a dance competition." She pauses, looking at Marius, "Those tiny holes were in her underwear, that's a party foul."

"These are better machines anyway. Pretty sure that washer and dryer are from like the 70s." They are avocado green after all. Then Astrid is beaming at Cole with a flash of that high-cheeked smile. "Hi Cole!-- eek!" She's caught up in a hug from Ash, and she spins the young woman around with a dramatic lift and spin before she presses a kiss to Ash's cheek. Then she smiles dubiously at the others. "Wait. Karaoke?" The mention of her underwear has her casting a more serious look at Marius. Yeah. Her underwear!

Marius points to Ash, shaking his head, "I do not put tiny holes in underwear." His scowl dissolves into laughter, and he shakes his head in amusement, glancing over to the others, "Alfie, right? Howdy." And then he looks over to Cole when Astrid says hello, "I'm Marius. Howdy, Cole." Astrid's dubiousness about karaoke causes him to snort, "You don't worry about kicking all our asses. We won't make it a contest." To the others, "Karaoke sounds great. So does the idea of a cook-out."

"Wait, wait.. I didn't agree to a dance competition," Cole says when Ash proclaims that he is doing so, laughing a little bit. He's sitting on one of the two machines that he is using, his bag on the one next to him. He grins a little bit at the back and forth about the nail in the laundry, but has no idea what they're talking about, so just remains a quiet observer to the group that clearly all know one another. "Hey," he says to Marius and gives ihm a little salute in greeting, "Nice to meet you."

Alfie's distinct default distance of expression neither supports nor protests mention of a fence door. "I think I'm another member of the audience for that one," he replies on karaoke as Ash and Astrid collide in their greeting ritual. "Alfie," he confirms, with a nod, to Marius. Recognizable, but not at all styled the same as his grade school years. "Did you get your keg back?" The pony keg had likely been emptied of its remaining mead during the night it'd spent at 7 Oak.
He grabs his detergent and unscrews the cap/cup, before adding a generous amount to his dumped clothes and shutting the door of the machine. He sets the rest of the bottle down beside his battered book on the next machine. Working on his chore for the day as he attends the edge of the ongoing conversation and the introductions with Cole.

"You totally put tiny holes in them. I saw what they looked like when they came out of the wash, I saw." Ash points out to Marius, then she makes like she's going to eat Ast's face for a moment before giving her another kiss on the cheek before releasing her. "Now you have my cooties." She moves back towards her seat, offering to Alfie, "Me, you, and whoever else has zero musical talent, or isn't willing to sound terrible, can sit around with score cards."

Astrid's arm hooks around Ash's waist while she rests her head against the blonde's. She glances over toward Marius with a slight wrinkling of her nose. "Yeah. You did." But then she gets to the topic at hand. "And I'm definitely not singing in a competition. No." Then she tightens her arm around as Ash deposits another kiss after almost eating her face, and she scrunches up her face with her tongue half-sticking out between her teeth. "Ugh!" Then she shakes her head before she smiles back toward Alfie and Cole. "Is Ash being helpful?" Serious question.

"Not yet," Marius responds to Alfie, "But I'm a long way out from going back to the Raider. I'll pick it up today?" Snorting at Ash, he shakes his head, "Not willing to sound terrible? Cowardice." He chuckles and dumps the laundry bags on a couple of empty washers, "It's not the holes part that I'm complaining about, for the record. It's the tiny." Looking back to Cole, he shrugs helplessly, "What's wrong with dancing? And it won't be a competition, Ast, even if there are assholes holding up score-cards. Besides, one of them will have to be the Russian Judge and tank our scores anyhow."

"Hi Alfie," Cole says to him as well when he mentions his name. The question from Astrid seems to confuse him for a moment before he asks, "Was she supposed to be helping with something?" There's a glance between Astrid and Ash then back again, as though he'd missed something. "Oh, there's nothing wrong with dancing," Cole says to Marius, "I just don't dance.. competitively."

"I did seven years of classical on piano," Alfie admits, when it comes to musical talent - but he gives it the same tone of voice one might report a recent ear infection with. "That doesn't transition well, into karaoke." He shrugs in his oversized plaid shirt with the rolled up sleeves and feeds a few coins from pocket to machine, starting up the washer. He leaves his book and detergent alone for now, atop the next machine. "Hey. Cole, right?" he answers in return, for the greeting - name caught in the earlier attended snippets of conversation, when Marius and Astrid arrived.
He looks between Astrid and Ash, for the former's question, still standing at his chosen washer. "Just got here," he says, dodging any proper answer on the subject as detergent and water soaks a post-grunge artificially distressed wardrobe. "The Raider?" he asks, late, in Marius' direction, uncertain, as if he isn't sure whether he's already gotten a definition for the term already.

Ash stares at Marius, groaning slightly, "Really?" She shakes her head, looking very disappointed in him and his size joke. But it lasts for roughly two seconds before she's sticking her tongue out at him, then an arm shoots up, "I'll be the Russian Judge." As for her helping, she points out, "I brought Corey ice cream." Which is totally helping. "And convinced him to make a fancy cake and madeleines for the cookout."

Speaking of Corey, he's just shouldering open the doors back into the laundromat, with coffees in one of those cardboard cup-holder things. Alfie is passed a regular black drip coffee, then as he moves through the room, passes off a mocha to Cole along with some coins. Finally, he flops back down in his seat next to Ash, taking the other black coffee for himself and leaving her with the remaining one. Well, it has cream on, but what else is in there is anyone's guess. "Hey guys," he greets Astrid and Marius, though there's no coffee for them. His favours are limited!

"She should be." Astrid is a firm believer that Ash is the best helper. The brunette drops heavily into a chair before she crosses her legs under her. She decides her helping will be watching Marius do his laundry. It's so fascinating. Then she glances back to Ash at her confirmation that she's helping, and she bobs her head. "Good. That's helpful." Then she looks over toward Corey with a grin and a renewed wave. When Alfie asks about the Raider, Astrid just looks to Marius for his helpful definition.

"It all depends on the stakes," Marius responds to Cole, "If there's stakes, then hell no. Not with these two," he points to Ash and Astrid, "around. No stakes, just bragging rights? No reason not to." He beams at Ash, "Really." Then back to Alfie, "The Honeyed Raider." He pulls the left side of his shirt straight, showing off the logo there, "Meadery up in Poulsbo." He dumps his clothes into the washer, then looks over to Astrid, to her laundry, and back, then picks up the bag and tosses it over to her, "Hey, I'm grunt labor, not skilled. And yes please. Madeleines and cake and everything."

Cole nods to Alfie, "Right." Then he takes the mocha and the change from Corey, slipping the change into his pocket. "Thank you," he says, lofting the coffee cup before opening the top a bit and blowing across the surface to cool it before attempting a sip. There's a whole lot of helping going on around him, and he continues to observe with a kind of bemused expression on his face. He then further explains, "I teach dance, for work. I used to be a ballet dancer. Which is why the whole.. dance competition.. thing."

Alfie has found a machine and filled it in Corey's absence. He takes the coffee with a quiet, "Thanks." And he sips it slowly, letting the stimulant hit him and compete for ground against the hit of indica that preceded his walk to the laundromat. He abandons his book and detergent to be social, stepping away from the machine he nabbed to stand in more social proximity with the present crowd.
He tilts his head, to get a good look at the logo, and makes a mouth shape that portrays understanding with an, 'Ah'. "It was good," he reviews. "But it's the only mead I've ever had, so," he trails off there - take the review for what it's worth. "Here in town?" he asks Cole, at the mention of teaching dance. The landscape of the town having changed some in his absence, new shops and services alongside or replacing old within a few years.

"Ooooh." Ash takes the last coffee for herself, leaning in to smell it, eyes closing, "Smells amazing and what do you mean if there's stakes, then hell no, not with those two?" Marius gets a glare at that, eyes narrowing at him before she takes a very careful sip from her coffee, pausing before she gives Corey a thumbs up for his choice. "Wait till you hear what kind of cake...and how I am going to decorate the cake. Plus, I'm not helping anyone fold their underwear Astrid...I don't even fold my own. Just dump it in the drawer." When Cole points out the why of the dance competition she nods, "That."

"Hey!" Astrid looks shocked at Marius's accusation. "We're perfectly innocent. Just because you had bad experiences with our mischief." Then she is sinking back into her chair, resting her chin into her palm, elbow on the armrest. Then she squints at Ash. "But you're so good at it. I love opening my panty drawer and seeing all your hard work." But there's a bag of laundry flying at her and she catches it, curls her arms around it like a teddy bear. Then she is yawning a wide yarn, curling up tighter on the chair. "Mmm. I'm gonna nap." In the laundromat.

"You dance, she sings," Marius says, gesturing to Ash and Astrid in turn. "You both kick our asses whenever there's stakes." He brightens at Cole's explanation, "Oh good! Someone can finally topple Ash from her pedestal. She never shuts up about it." That may not be true at all. "Wait, why are you decorating the cake, and why am I going to hate it?" Looking back to the other men, he points between Ash and Astrid, "They do this just to try and drive us crazy, by the way. Because now you're thinking about Ash handling Astrid's panties." He doesn't seem particularly bothered though -- probably long experience, "Don't worry, it's totally normal. And not innocent at all. I remember a bet involving a blue dye pack that you said was washable ink..."

His life complete now that he's received the thumbs-up from Ash in regards to her coffee, Corey takes a sip of his own. Then there's a bleep from his phone and he pulls it out, frowning. Hmm. "Looks like I need to scoot," he voices, looking over to Alfie now. "Hey Alf, could you grab my stuff when it's done?" he requests, pointing to the machine his kitchen whites are in. "Should be finished before yours." Pushing up to his feet, he digs out his car keys and offers them to his housemate. "I'll be walking, so you can drive back if you want." To the rest of the room at large, and Ash in specific he bids, "I'm out, try not to miss me too much. Catch you all later."

The casual roar of machines within the laundromat must be competing with music somewhere, but the din is such that Alfie can't quite pick up on it as he stands, sipping coffee with those gathered. Attending without being drawn into the topic of mischief and fallout as he drinks his hot beverage - the curiously observant one, who grew up in a tepid, mature household as an only child. He only returns to being a participant in the conversation when Corey is mentioning laundry and offering car keys. A dismissive hand raised to the later. "No, thanks - I mean I'll grab your stuff when it's done and bring it back to the house," he clarifies. "But, no, I don't drive." He pays the machine pointed out an extra look, as if to commit it to memory for when he'll need attend to it.

"That's because you dance like a stupid chicken." Ash flops her elbows around, careful of her coffee itself. Then when Corey gets his call, and Alfie says he doesn't drive, she holds her hand out, making grabby hands, "I'll wait with Alfie and drive him back." And just to be sure he knows. "I know how to drive." The matter of things like cake and why Marius needs to hear about it can wait until Saint Ash is done.

Cole nods to Alfie and says, "I took over Dance Evolution and am teaching ballet there, now. Kept on some of the other instructors who teach gymnastics and more modern dance, and still rent out the space." He then glances between all of them and gestures a bit to the cumulative group with his coffee cup, "So do all you guys live together?" He then raises a brow at Marius and chuckles, "Not quite what I was thinking about, but I can see how that might be the desired result for someone else." When Corey gets up to go, Cole lifts a hand to wave to him.

Gently tossing his keys towards Ash, Corey murmurs, "Thanks, babe." Looking to Alfie, he points to Ash and the keys, making sure his housemate is aware of that offer, before meandering on out, sipping coffee. Exit, center stage, to go do Things(tm) elsewhere.

Marius gives Corey a vague wave, "See you." Alfies demurral from the car doesn't draw any untoward attention, but he laughs at Ash's accusation, "I do not dance like a stupid chicken. I dance like a very, very smart chicken." He nods to Cole's question, "Yeah. Ashtrid," both the blonde and the brunette combined, "and my brother and sister and I live in one house." He points over to the departed Corey, then adds, "He and," pointing to Alfie, "Alfie," and Corey's sister live next door. We all go to Wazzu-Hoquiam." He turns slowly over to Ash at her forbearance, lifting his brows and then making a beckoning gesture. A silent, 'bring it.'

The image of Alfie hefting two bags of clean clothes up along the sidewalk to Oak Avenue may be entirely avoided for Ash's offer, and he perks up for it. "I'll say you were helpful, next time I'm asked," he promises her, with something approaching a hint of an apologetic smile. And he waves to the departing Corey, a little late for the gesture to be properly noticed.
He nods, confirming Marius' answer as to who lives where. "Dance Evolution is still around," he says, after - not a question, but a confirmation, still forming a mental map of the changed landscape. Another landmark added. "That was nice of you. Keeping people on," he adds, for a reply to the answer that isn't just for his own benefit.

Ash jingles the keys, then shoves them into a pocket for whenever all the laundry is done, "You don't need to...no one would believe you anyways. Even though I'm always helpful." Marius. "But the cake is going to be peanut butter chocolate and caramel...and decorated with madeleines and stuff. Like a garden."

"Well, I needed the help, and they're good at what they do. No reason not to just because the owner decided to retire," Cole says with a smile and shrug of his shoulders. "It worked out well for all of us, I think." He nods to Marius when he explaisn that they're neighbors and all the people in the houses, "Wow. That's kind of cool. I was telling Astrid that I was thinking of going back to school, perhaps. I finished my degree in performing arts, but have been thinking of doing something else now."

Marius's stomach grumbles audibly -- even over the rumble of the machines -- at Ash's description, and 'bring it' turns into grabby hands. "Have I mentioned that you're the most helpful ever, Ash?" He finishes up getting his clothes sorted and running in the wash, then nods to Cole, "Yeah. I mean, Hoquiam's not a great campus, but it's not bad, and it means we don't have to move too far." He glances to Astrid, shaking his head in amusement as he watches her sleep for a moment then looks back to Cole, "And it can cover Architecture, Ecology, Philosophy, Art, Nursing, and... well... pretty much everything else because it's part of Wazzu."

"Spurned by reputation," Alfie adds to the end of Ash's assurance of her helpful nature. Some slight faux woefulness enters his tone, in a measurement reserved by his own quiet nature. Another hint of an almost smile as Marius contests the machines for rumble and declares Ash's quality of helpfulness.
"That's a practical choice, I guess," he admits to Cole. "But I don't think it's the practical choice that everyone would make." In defense of supposed niceness. At Marius list of what majors are covered by the campus, he adds, "Culinary science and chemistry too." Tagging the majors of his roommates as part of the 'pretty much everything' list.

"I'm thinking of going back more to figure out something more to do than out of any real necessity to get another degree," Cole admits. "So I'm not looking for Ivy League or anything crazy. A good enough campus with some choice would be enough, I think." He then smiles over at Alfie and says, "Thanks. I was glad to do it."

Marius nods at Alfie's additions, "Right. Which gets us pretty much everything we need. Shelter, growing weed, thinking while stoned, painting the house, keeping us healthy, making food, and... well..." he flashes a grin, "I'm going to say that chemistry can make fire." He grins over to Cole, "Yeah? You're just looking for something to do? Man, I love studying, but there's so many other things I'd rather be doing."

Alfie's response to the compliment being accepted after extra efforts? A shrug of narrow shoulders in baggy attire and a comment of, "No problem." As for university as just something to do, he adds, "You could always give general studies a try. Expensive pass time, but the credits might still count to whatever you end up wanting to do. If you find anything you're interested in doing." He pauses to take longer sips from his coffee, now that it isn't quite so scalding. And to Marius, "We just have to be careful which powers we combine. Because you can cook with weed, but edible houses have a bad rep." He gives a singular nod to that end.

Cole chuckles as Marius ticks off all the tasks that can be performed with the education gained at WSU, "Sounds legit," he agrees. He nods though and says, "I like learning, and I'm not performing, so I need.. something more, than just teaching." Then he glances over at Alfie and says, "Only if you make them out of gingerbread. You could probably go with something more like a nine-grain protein cracker house here in the PNW and nobody would blink twice."