2019-08-02 - Fruity Pebbles

(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: Bring home some Fruity Pebbles.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: I'm busy running from a schoolteacher.
(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: Is the fucking schoolteacher in the cereal isle! I need my PEBBLES man
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: Was at the library. We need internet. Have the guys come yet?
(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: They're here now, you get me pebbles, I give you the internet password.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: Do we still need milk?
(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: Yes.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: ...1 percent, 2, skim?
(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: Regular. I'm not on a diet, never will be.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: Why are there so many milks?
<FS3> Zoiya rolls Composure -2: Good Success (8 7 6 5 3 2 2)
(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: Because there are a lot of cows.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: True.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: Walking home. 20 or I got mugged.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: For your milk.
(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: That a boob joke?
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: No, but it can be.
(TXT to Blake) Zoiya: You're lucky I like you, Boyfriend.
(TXT to Zoiya) Blake: I'm accommodating. See you soon.

Zoiya is sitting on the large couch, her feet up on the soft surface, watching a tech work. She's wearing a pair of boxers, socks and an overly loose t-shirt. Her hair is piled atop her head, and she's actually scrubbed clean of make up. She's watching the man, making sure he's doing whatever he's doing right. Not that she'd know otherwise. "Make sure the internet thing is working, because if I have to call and talk to someone, it's probably gonna end in yelling. I don't know how any of this shit works. I just want to be able to watch Netflix or.. you know, uh.. what the fuck is it. Game of Thrones?" She shrugs a bare shoulder and sighs. Her eyes shift to the phone, then to the door. Where the fuck is her Pebbles?

Blake is carrying the family sized Fruity Pebbles box in one arm, his phone in his other hand, and the milk is probably cozied up to his laptop in that backpack of his, sweating itself out. When Blake found out the tech was there /right now/ he beat a mother and her three children to a register. She had two cartfuls of groceries. Blake slides in and wipes his chucks on the mat even though he's clean. "Hey." The bastard is not handing her the Fruity Pebbles yet. He starts for the kitchen.

Zoiya perks up, head whipping around to squint at her roommate. Ahh, family sized. She relaxes and gestures to the tech. "This is Bob. Bob, this is Blake. You two do your internet fu speak, and I'll be over here waiting for my Netflix to load." She sounds sweet and happy now that she's able to tag Blake in. She waits a few minutes, letting him unload his things so she doesn't crowd him in the kitchen, watching Bob grunt and sweat as he tries to connect ALL THE THINGS. "Store busy?" She calls over her shoulder, brushing back a few curls that threaten to fall in her face.

"Lot's of moms," Blake explains. He shrugs off his backpack and pulls the milk out, putting it directly in the freezer. He had the fridge delivered the first Saturday. It works. It's nothing to write home about, but Blake seems a pretty simple man. He keeps watching this 'Bob' as he works, squinting, watching, pouring a bowl of way too much pebbles for Zoiya.

When Bob spots the owner of all that sweet equipment, he knows he can't skimp on his job. Nerdy pasty dude who barely looks like his skin under his shirt has ever seen the light of day?

Blake motions Zoiya over with a little twitch of his head. "How long has this guy been here? You told him I have my own router and modem right?" This is something Blake wrote down for her.

Zoiya sighs, getting up and walking to the kitchen. There are pebbles in a bowl for her. "Any cute moms?" She asks aloud, before her voice lowers and she smirks. "He's been here for about thirty minutes, I guess the new television is giving him trouble." She folds her arms loosely over her chest, giving Bob a brief glance. Asscrack. Yikes. "I told him to juice up this computer thing, and I figured you could figure out the rest better than he could." She opens the fridge to get the milk out, no milk. She purses her lips and opens the freezer. Score. She pours some in the bowl, adds a spoon and puts the milk in the fridge like a god damned normal American.

She picks up her bowl and gives Blake the 'go make sure he's not an idiot' eyes, making her way back to her spot on the couch.

"Are you looking for cute moms?" It's a genuine question, and only one Blake would ask in the face of such a question. "I mean, there were also crackheads and I'm pretty sure one or two of them were both," mothers and crackheads. A beat passes as Blake gets blasted with a flash of crack as well. He just stands there, looking less than enthused. The little time spent in the freezer made up for the heat from the walk, maybe not enough to totally make up for it. He doesn't stop her from relocating it. "Okay okay." He moves off to stand behind Bob.

"Hey man. This should have taken fifteen minutes. I told them not to send a tech out here. Hope we're not getting charged for you to fondle the lady's new TV while you watch her lounge while we watch your ass crack sweat through your shorts..." Blake just stands there, looking down at him.

"No?" Zoiya looks confused, pulling her feet up on the couch, bowl balanced on her knees. She doesn't say anything about crackhead moms, she just watches Blake head toward the tech. One big spoon, two big spoons. Cheeks full of cereal. She chews noisily, and to her credit she doesn't snort when Blake speaks.

"I can't get the internet to connect to this box man, the .. the cable box. It's the only way the Netflix is gonna work. Uh.." Bob looks back at Zoiya, noisily eating cereal and he looks a little red in the cheeks. "No man, nothing like that. I'm not looking at her." While he's looking at her. Zoiya grins, a little dribble of milk dripping down her chin. Bob swallows convulsively and then gets to his feet, frowning. "I mean, I can go if you think you can get this to work any better, man."

"First off, we don't need a fucking receiver to get Netflix. We didn't get a cable TV package man. Fucking Christ." Blake doesn't say it /too/ loud, but yeah, Zoiya can hear everything, and poor Bob /knows/ she can hear everything, even if she probably has no idea how embarrassing this is for him.

Blake knows these techs have to get through their checks and setup everything before they can leave. It's incredibly annoying. He finally squats down next to the heavier set man not out of mercy, but out of impatience. "Go grab a smoke or something man. You can call in the signal to my box after I've got it hooked up. I won't tell anyone." He's doing the guy a solid for sure. Giving him a free break and getting him out of a jam? Blake said it would take fifteen, but he's got everything going and the netflix streaming off of a hotspot from his phone in seven minutes. But he leaves the place to go who knows what and gets back in a total of ten minutes.

Bob comes back in looking a bit confused. "Hotspot on my phone...It's all yours though man. Just send it the signal to make sure my modem can get on the network. I paid for a static IP address and the-" Bob relays the package information, the bandwidth as if he had time to make sure which one they were getting outside. "Right. Make sure I have it so I don't have to undo all of my goodwill toward you later after you leave."

Blake moves over to sit on the couch next to Zoiya while Bob finishes up. Sure enough, he brightly reports they have signal and runs through his last checks. The only thing Blake has to say to the man is, "Bye." Once Bob is gone, Blake turns the channel and...somehow, they now have HBO, clear as a bell. He pulls up the on-demand service. "If you want anything else, just let me know....that guy was a fucking idiot."

Zoiya watches everything like it's a movie, she laughs in the right spots. Eats more cereal and turns to watch as the two men move out of the room and into the room. This is actually better than a movie. She is pretty amazed by the difference in Blake when it comes to tech things, is this the same person who got upset because he didn't get to read the bear facts? Yes, it is indeed. She spoons more cereal into her mouth, and soon the little fruity flakes are gone, leaving behind pink milk. She slurps it as Bob comes in and checks stuff, watching the two guys commiserate and barely communicate. When he leaves, and Netflix comes up, she beams happily. "I mean, yeah. You can do all this stuff, I pay half.. I get to watch movies when I'm not shaking my ass. I'm happy."

Not getting to read your bear facts /deserves/ frowns. Blake can bully the geeks with his l33tness, apparently, not that Zoiya would know what that means, but there's a sense that this isn't done to just humiliate the other man. There's real annoyance and veiled disgust there brimming beneath the surface. Blake is not the bullying type, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't inadvertently intimidate. "As long as you're happy and we get all of our bandwidth." He offers a small grin. "Want more?" blue eyes dropping to her empty sad bowl.

"Not yet." Zoiya has drained the milk, not losing any down her chin this time. She probably did that to poor Bob on purpose. "I'm happy, we have.. whatever bandwidth is.. and yeah." She gazes at the television, and then looks back at Blake. "So how do you think shit is gonna work out at the Cabaret, and pardon me for asking this because you might have more morals than I do, but could you get into the computers there so I can make sure he's not fucking around in a way that's gonna piss me off?" She sets the bowl down on the coffee table and shifts a bit so she can face Blake. "I have real trust issues, and if he's gonna make stupid decisions, I wanna know ahead of time."

"I don't know yet. Not much to that guy is there?" Antonio Blake must be talking about, just like Zoiya. "Just tits and blow." It's safe to say that Blake would be a horrible strip club runner. "I can poke around for you." He doesn't say he was going to anyways. No way he's going to let them get wrapped up with a drug dealing dude who isn't on the up and up. Misplaced chivalry of a sort possibly? "I have a feeling he'll need more security than he thinks." He looks to Zoiya sidelong, a hint of worry in his eyes. He doesn't think Antonio is good news. "You notice anything since you've been there?"

"I noticed that he drinks a lot, and has a soft spot for pretty pussy." Zoiya doesn't seem to include herself in that descriptive term, her eyes on wall as she considers things. "That soft spot can get you into a lot of trouble. I should trust people more, maybe, but I always have gone off my instincts. I don't trust Antonio, and I think he can sense that, because he keeps trying to make me happy, so I don't go off on my own." She rolls her eyes and turns her head to gaze at Blake. She spots the worry. "Boyfriend, if he fucks up, we'll deal with it then. I think I can keep us safe, with your help. If you're doing the security, I mean.. we'll know what he sees, right?"

"Sounds like you have the advantage." Blake leans over to start untying his chucks, finishing with kicking them off before he leans back into the couch. Blake seems to think it goes without saying that he doesn't trust a man he just met. "Let's find out what's what before we get comfortable. My job is only contract, but I can make it so I can keep an eye on things for you every once in awhile. What are you worried about him seeing?"

"It's not that I'm worried he might see something. I am worried he's not on the up and up." Zoiya makes a face, her brow furrowed as she frowns briefly. "I mean, obviously he isn't, I'd be shocked if he wasn't dealing." Inked fingers pluck at the hem of her boxers, the frown easing into a slight smirk. "I don't know what dark and dangerous lurks around this place yet, and he could be in with other bad elements, and while that doesn't bother me so much? If it means my money is gonna be funny, that will bother me." She watches Blake's shoes get dealt with before she adds. "I just hope I don't have to sleep with this one to keep my job."

"He's dealing." Blake just comes out and says it as if it were as plain as seeing the afternoon sunshine. "He told me he could get me some of my shit," so that's confirmation that he deals in opiates and hardcore withdrawal drugs at least. Blake is pretty quiet. He listens, but falls into one of his contemplative stretches of silence. "If he's trafficking women or fucking with children or old people, he's done." The words come out inexorably, as if nothing could stop justice from coming down on the man. He then turns his head to Zoiya at her last remark, his gaze unwavering. "If he tries to pull that shit on you, tell me."

"Figured as much, he doesn't make me pay for it, one of those little ways to keep your girls compliant and happy. You'll notice that I didn't do much yesterday, because when someone wants you compliant.." Zoiya trails off, shaking her head slightly before she relaxes against the couch. "Well, we'll see just how bad he is under the hood, and figure it out then. I'm not a bastion of good and innocence, but there are lines that even I won't cross." She watches Blake as he speaks to her, a slight smile curling her lips. "I'll let you know, Boyfriend. It isn't like I can't get work elsewhere, I just won't get paid anywhere near as well as I get paid there. Four days, and I already have enough put aside for two months rent, groceries and most of the bills, that's before your share even got calculated."

"He shouldn't do it himself at the club. If he's smart, he doesn't keep any substantial product there. Someone could roll in and steal whatever they wanted." Apparently the bouncers don't impress Blake, or he seems to think they'd be easy to take care of by someone who means business. "I don't think he does. I think his drugs come from other people. He's just a middleman." Which means their dealings could be wrapped up in something worse than just a small or medium sized operation. Drugs flow through all sorts of dealings. Blake doesn't bring this up though. "As long as he pays you well, treats you well, doesn't stiff me, and shit...I don't care. Luckily what he's hired me is one hundred percent legit." So far, but Antonio doesn't strike Blake as someone who's about to go dark web digital marketplace on him in aspiration. "Fuck...that's a lot of cash," a decent front for another kind of business. "Keep the cash you get from the customers directly. Don't let him pay you out of a pot if you can." Laundering. "Fuck, maybe I should start stripping."

Zoiya chuckles darkly, probably something that has occurred to her already. "It has to be coming from somewhere, and honestly? I don't really want to know. I want to know things in case they turn bad, but this could just be me being paranoid because ..well.." She smirks and lets out a breath, curling up a bit on the couch. "If he doesn't treat me well, I will make his life miserable, but it's all a game to me. Making him miserable in ways he wouldn't expect. He needs me right now though, and I'll make sure that doesn't change." She flashes a grin and leans in toward Blake. "I sometimes wash that fucking money. Sink, Palmolive, hang it dry. You know where people stick money sometimes? Gross. Fucking gross." She waves away the advice. "I get my own money. I want my bonuses spelled out. I don't take shit under the table. I shake my ass legally, for the most part." There are other ways she gets money, but let's not talk about that.

"I've seen where you put your money," well it's not like he's inspected, but Blake knows /where/ it ends up. In all those various natural crevices that serve as a collective wallet for the woman while she's on the job. He suppresses a smile, poorly. He doesn't back off when she leans in. "Man I wish he'd fucking hurry up about my order though." No word mentioned about how she might gain money...extra-legally. Right. Extra...vs intra...or something. Blake's got one of those worried looks in his eyes, anxious. Might not just be a junkie desperate for a fix sort of thing. "I don't like doing drugs there like that, where you're vulnerable, but-" clearly he didn't have access to anything that would allow him to partake back at their new place. "You seen the landlord," or lady. He has no idea, "yet?"

"Yeah well, find me a better place to put it when I'm in a delicate state of undress." Zoiya retorts, and she's tempted to lean in and poke at him when he tries not to smile. She refrains for now, turning her head back to the television set. "Offer him more money, bet it makes things appear faster. That's usually how it works." She gestures to the master bedroom with a flick of her fingers. "I have powder in there, if you really want it, because I can likely get more." The mention of the landlord makes her look back at Blake. "Yeah, holy shit. She's older than Methuselah. Can barely do steps. When I went to sign the papers, I made sure I dressed demurely and shit, well.." She clears her throat. "..as demurely as I can dress. Long sleeved shirt and everything. She called me Precious. She likes me."

"There isn't one," Blake readily admits as if he's thought about the logistics of the matter before. "No. Sets a precedence. Right now, he has something I want. I have something he wants. He can get me what I want when he wants what I can give." Blake's not going to give up his hand that easily, so to speak. He looks back over his shoulder to her room, pressing his lips together lopsidedly as if considering. "Maybe later." Who is he kidding. "Great. I have to sign the lease tonight. Can you help me not look like I'm going to mug her? An old lady in the park thought I was a 'hoodlum.'"

Zoiya is chewing at the inside of her bottom lip, her eyes on the television. Everything Blake says makes it through that distraction, but she doesn't actually turn to look at him until he said he needs help. "Yeah. I'll help you out, come with you too. Like I said, she thinks I'm some sort of angel or something." She blinks a few times, glances back at the television and then back to Blake. "Why did she think you were a hoodlum? I mean, let's be honest, you look like a teenager half the time and that backpack is obviously filled with dark and mysterious things, but you know.." She gestures vaguely toward Blake, and then shrugs. "Eh, we'll like.. pat down your hair or some shit, and you just.. smile. Kind of, don't do the whole teeth thing."

"I don't know. Maybe because of my hoodie?" Blake just looks down, averting Zoiya's gaze and keenly aware of his lack of manly...stature. This doesn't help. He pretty much looks like a brooding teenage as his lengthening hair falls into his eyes. He reaches up to shove it out of the way, behind his ears and then tries to smooth it out. "What's wrong with my hair? I do something with my teeth?" He smiles, wondering if she means not to do anything with his teeth at all or if only some teeth in his smile is okay. He goes for the latter, but can immediately feel how awkward it is. Yeah, he's smiling to himself. Then he sighs, exasperated. He pushes up and then moves to go look at his hair in the bathroom.

Zoiya is keenly aware that she managed to offend him in some way, her eyes on him when he averts her gaze. "I mean, hoodies look like they're up to some shit sometimes, you know?" She watches him smile, watches his hand in his hair, watching him try out different smiles. The exasperated noise makes her eyebrows raise slightly and she gets to her feet, padding after him. "Nothing wrong with being you. Doesn't make you a hoodlum. Doesn't make you a bad person. If you wanna smile and show your teeth, do it. I don't think she can see five feet in front of her face, so .." She shrugs and at this point she'd give someone a hug if she felt they needed it, but she worries that he might push her away, so she doesn't. "Didn't mean to be.. " Honest, blunt? She doesn't try to finish the sentence, turning to make her way back out to the living room to collect her bowl.

Blake doesn't /look/ like a guy who spends too much time thinking about what he puts on in the morning, given it's often something similar to what he wore the day before, but a misplaced thought of paranoia means he's questioning his whole wardrobe...because yeah, it's mostly hoodies. The light neurosis ends with him leaning down to splash water on his face to try and stifle more feelings of, reminders of his own alienation. He then moves off to his bedroom, shedding his hoodie and tshirt to pull on a sweater. It's charcoal colored. Big surprise. His hair is a little damp from the water he let get into it. "It's not a big deal. I'll just comb my hair. Old ladies love that." He'll look like he's twelve years old probably but he'll remember to bring ID. Not that she'll be able to read it. "I can wear my glasses too. You know she's going to want to know why we're living together."

"What did you tell her?"

"Told her we work together. She thinks it's sweet. Wants to know if you're gonna keep the bad men out of the house." Whatever THAT means. Zoiya is a little subdued now, rinsing the bowl out in the sink and putting it aside to dry. She folds her arms over her chest, watching him as he moves around, not sure what to do or say. She takes a deep breath, hands on the counter as she leans against it. "If you want, I'll come with you Boyf--Blake. I can field any of the potentially uncomfortable questions without a problem."

"I thought you said you were coming anyways?" Blake asks conversationally, obviously confused by their whole exchange in the last five minutes. He ducks back into his bathroom to splash some water on his hair and uses a comb to train it down. Then he goes to grab his glasses from their case at his bedside. He got a mattress delivered but still doesn't have a bedframe yet. He puts the black frames on. He looks good in them, but he'd look even better in a pair of shades. Another one of his flashes of good taste when he's trying. His closet certainly has more flamboyant pieces of clothing, but he doesn't seem to wear them as of yet. "Okay cool. Just wanted to get my story straight. The bad men?" He comes out to see her leaning against the counter. "Is everything okay?"

Zoiya grunts softly, pushing away from the counter to walk toward her room. "Dunno who the bad men are." She watches his face for a moment before she pushes the door open, not closing it as she gets dressed. The oversized t-shirt is pulled off and tossed on the bed, boxer shorts following shortly after. She pulls on a lacy pair of white panties, a matching bra and a long-sleeved thin white cotton shirt. The only pair of jeans that she owns that doesn't have tears, rips and all that shit are pulled over her hips. She pulls her hair loose, shaking it around her shoulders before she leans in to look at the mirror. "Yeah, I'm coming with you." She pauses when he asks if everything is okay. She takes the time to think before she speaks, which is not like her. "If I ever piss you off conversationally, just tell me. It's not gonna upset me, or like.. bother me. I push buttons, it's how I get everything I want." She takes a deep breath, gesturing to him with her inked fingers. "We gotta live together. Honesty is the best policy, Boyfriend."

Blake hovers outside of Zoiya's room, well doesn't hover. He leans against the wall and tries not to openly stare as she gets dressed. He's pretty good at it. Too good at it, but there are little glances stolen as if he's checking if it's safe to look again. "You didn't piss me off. What you said was true. You didn't say it to hurt me. If I need to talk to you about it, I will." How can he if he doesn't know /when/ he needs to talk about things to begin with? "I'm not upset with you. You...know that right?" He checks beyond his own assumption. He figures he'd be the last one to know/figure it out.

"Yeah, I just know sometimes when I speak, it can maybe piss someone off, and I'm not trying to do that. I don't really read emotion all that well. I can see lust, that's about it." Might have something to do with the people she's been dealing with most of her life. Zoiya finally makes eye contact with Blake and she nods slightly, her head tilting as she walks out of her room, obviously embarrassed. "I just don't want the first time I've felt okay with someone to lead to not feeling okay. If that makes any kind of sense." She isn't looking at him as she speaks now, fingers digging through her purse to find something.

Blake is a meticulous man. For all the details of things like the way he dresses sometimes escaping him, the inner world of this man must be meticulous. He'd be a rather dull specimen if nothing was going on inside and while it's easy for shallow people to write him off, anyone with an ounce of depth can see otherwise, so when Zoiya's choice of words seem to let on more beneath the surface once more, he doesn't miss a beat. He follows after Zoiya, despite her embarrassment. He pursues truth without tact or the mercy of holding back, but there's a tenderness. "Have you not felt okay with anyone before?" he finally asks as she digs through her purse.

"No. I haven't." Zoiya finds what she's looking for, a shimmery pink tube of lip gloss. She applies it quickly, and then she gives Blake look, and with her guard down there is a brief vulnerability there, quickly banished. "I got used to looking for the ulterior motive every time I meet someone, and I usually find it." She picks up the purse, shrugs it over her shoulder and picks up her phone. "We finding food after you sign things?" She is trying to play it off like it's not important, but for the moment she isn't able to meet his gaze, doing every little bullshit fidget that she can to not bring attention to it. Like right now, her fingers are tapping on her phone.

Blake swallows. He has no visceral understanding of what living in that kind of state means. He doesn't trust anyone, but it has nothing to do with that kind of vulnerability. He knows it, but there's no shame in him. He doesn't look away like any other man might. Perhaps those men are thinking of the thoughts they surely had five minutes ago, or not even thirty seconds ago. Blake is just in the moment, trying to grapple with what that must feel like. It's the words that aren't said... He lets her have her retreat into those fidgets without pulling away from her or the moment. He's just there. Steady. "Yeah. Do you like pizza?" He reaches out to put his hand over her fingers and her phone. His hand is warm.

For a moment it might seem as if Zoiya would pull away, she flinches certainly, but then she remembers where she is, and who is with her. The smile is not immediate, but it's genuine when it comes. "Yeah, I love pizza. No pineapples though, just the name pineapple bothers me. Doesn't it bother you?" She drops her phone into her purse, snags Blake by the hand, towing him toward the door. "Let's go find the old lady and get this taken care of. I'm getting hungry now." Just like that, the moment has passed, and things are back to what might be normal.

"Pineapples are disgusting," Blake reports emphatically. Perhaps that was a bit overboard. Blake chuckles, his voice low as usual. He seems at ease when the moment passes and things shift back to normal. "Yeah I don't want to go into her apartment okay?" Just the idea sends a little quiver down his spine. The claustrophobia of collectibles closing in from all corners of the old lady nebula. "Ever." It's safe to say from the look in Blake's eyes that if they ever end up in there, Blake will likely freak the fuck out. "What's her name again? BettiLa-n," he has no clue. "I'm so fucking hungry." He walked downtown to the library and then the store at /least/.

"On that we agree. It's mostly the name that bothers me though." Zoiya pauses when Blake mentions not wanting to go into the woman's apartment. "Like, are you gonna make her come outside with the papers?" She gives him a glance, considers and then shrugs it off. "Her name was Dorothy or some shit. Over the rainbow, whatever." She makes a noise that sounds halfway between agreement and impatience. "There better be a halfway decent pizza place in this town."

"Yes." Hands down. No hesitation. Blake is frowning when Zoiya looks his way after her question. "Dorothy?" It moves through his mouth like something that gets stuck rolling through a bunch of cotton. "If there is, we're finding it tonight. We have to have a slice from every place till we find ours...our joint." Pizza joint. "We should get blitzed and eat a big fu-a big pizza." Never know when little old ladies could be snooping.

Zoiya sees the frown, but she's trying pretty hard not to laugh. He made his choice. She knocks on the door, and of course Dorothy answers with a "Come in, dears." So Zoiya just stares at Blake, eyebrows raised. She huffs out a heavy sigh, opens the door and sticks her head in. "Hey Dorothy! I uh.. I got some dog shit on my shoes and I don't want to drag it in, can you bring those papers to the door here, I wanna introduce you to the roomie." She glances at Blake, giving him a - see, I did it - look. It takes Dorothy a few minutes to roll her walker in their direction, but she eventually makes it. Her glasses look thick, making her eyes huge.

"Hey Dorothy, looking good girl. Know of any pizza places?" Zoiya is the soul of tact.

Blake takes a deep breath and then starts to cough as if the musty smell was already ATTACKING HIS POOR LUNGS. He looks to Zoiya sidelong when they are beckoned in. Oh my fucking god, that look says. "Wait are animals allowed here?" Blake suddenly asks aloud after Zoiya gives her excuse, because this is totally the time and place Blake. Blake seems naturally more like he's hopped up on drugs when he's off of them. When Dorothy reveals herself at the door, Blake has a disarmingly charming grin waiting for her. It's that baby-face. The bespectacled man's hands are stuffed into his pockets though, the only betrayal of his anxiety as his gaze meanders back further inside the old woman's den like some kid sneaking a peek at the scary part of the movie his parents were making him close his eyes for.

"I don't know, why.. you want a dog or something?" Zoiya glances at Blake and then back at the door. Dorothy has a big smile on her face when she gets to the door. She even brought a plate of cookies, but the inked woman seems to have experience with them. When the older woman hands over the wrinkled papers (she had them gripped against her walker, for shame Blake) she goes for a pen in her pocket and Zoiya eyes the plate, and then Blake, shaking her head minutely. The pen is found and Dorothy squints up at Blake. "You look like a sweet boy. Here, sign right here, and you two are all set. There is a pie place near downtown, I think dearie."

"Thanks babe." Zoiya responds, leaning against the wall next to the door, watching the old woman and her roomie deal with one another. That glance into the apartment might reveal a lot of knit things and kittens. KITTENS EVERYWHERE.

"I don't know. Just wondering. You want one?" Shame? Shame? Some things tend to go over Blake's head. There's obviously a part of him that understands, that registers that this was so very wrong of him to cause, but there's also that part of him that wants to jump out of his skin at the thought of being trapped inside. He awkwardly takes hold of the plate of cookies for Dorothy as she maneuvers. "This is very kind of you, but I couldn't spoil my appetite." He then takes the pen and signs quickly. It isn't exactly clear whether the discomfort is about all of the myriad of duplicate things inside that old lady cave or just from the prolonged social interaction or even his guilt about the whole thing. "Thank you. Mae. Do you want one?" he holds out the plate of cookies toward Zoiya with a little faux grin. Little old lady dens. Absolutely terrifying.

"Never was allowed before." It isn't a yes or no, but Zoiya is still focused on pizza. She watches Blake and Dorothy dance, well not literally, they're just maneuvering so papers can get signed. When Blake speaks, the little old lady just beams up at him. Isn't he cute? Dorothy waits to see if Zoiya wants a cookie and she takes a deep breath, turning a smile on the older woman. "Thanks babe, these look delicious." She takes a cookie, turning to look down the hall, breaking off a piece of the cookie with her thumb before she looks back. "Still aces, Dorothy. I'm gonna take him out and we're gonna get ourselves some pizza. Call me on my cell if you need anything else." She eyes Blake until he passes the plate back. Someone is probably taking this cookie to the back of the head during the walk to the pizza place.

Blake is all-consumed with handling the little old lady in front of him, as if he's afraid if he takes his eyes off her she'll just reach up and pinch his cheeks and he won't be able to deflect it. Noooooo. But it doesn't happen. His heart stops pounding in his ears as he finally hands back the plate of cookies after a certain amount of staring. Then he follows after Zoiya at a clipped pace to try and catch up. He's shorter than her after all.