2019-12-07 - Processing with Pizza

A little bundle of hair and icons pushes her way through the door to the Pizza Kitchen. Clad in a purple and black hooded letterman-style jacket with big angry bunny logos in the back and chest, a loose ponytail streams out of the front and side of the hood. There was some attempt at makeup made, mostly cause otherwise, she might have looked dead. Sweats and Converses finished The thuggish look. Abitha's hands were tucked deeply into the jacket, shoulders hunched against the cold.

The hungover game store owner slowly takes a sweeping look of the place, then grumbles her way up to an open stool, oblivious of its proximity to the already seated blonde. Climbing up into it and dragging a menu out of a holder, she mutters under her breath, "Swear to god, there better be some fucking Hawaiian on this menu..." No, Mac, no threats to burn the place down. Behave, get carbs, recuperate. Her phone appears briefly, checking out the LCS Worlds standings, a look of open disdain on her face at the upcoming games. Nothing good until SKT's matches later on.

Beeping, music, and noises of aggrivation from the short redhead can be heard coming from the arcade machines. Alison had been there for some time, occasionally plugging a few coins into the cabinet she's using. She's dressed in a light jacket, over her usual t-shirt and jeans attire, basic Converses below that, with her crossbody bag strapped over her torso.

Eventually, she's had enough, and she pushes herself away from the machine with kick to the front of it, and a scowl on her face. She makes her away over by the register, and asks if her pizza is ready. It is, and she takes it after paying and thanking the employee in question, carrying her small pepperoni, bacon, and pineapple pizza to nearby seat at the bar, shoving a bite of it into her mouth with no delay.

Watching the bedraggled and somewhat sickly woman sit so near, Maggi almost laughs. She had those days, everyone did, but she had yet to encounter her in a pleasant mood or one devoid of status effects. Were she perhaps polite when they had first met, she would have considered sliding the partially eaten slice to her. Instead, she relishes it with superiority. Audible and unnecessary "Mmmm's" as she devours it's remainder. Setting down a plate with only crust she speaks loudly, "So glad I got the last of the ham this place had!" The remark was obviously bull and meant to incite the gremlin near her. Waiting for her to react, icy eyes wander towards the red head whom had just assaulted the arcade machine. The girl had good taste in pizza, that's for sure.

Having decided on another slice, heeled boots step down from their perch, cash is retrieved from the jacket, and a few taps on her phone made. Maggi always got 'small cut' pineapple, a feature that was never done correctly unless ordered online. A step towards the register, waffling on telling the fiery headed of her superior tastes.

Abitha seems to catch the movement out of the corner of her eye, coming to the realization someone near her had pizza and was talking. Her eyes slowly follow. She notices there was pineapple on it. Her eyes continue on, "Well at least somebody has fucking tas-OH JESUS!" Obviously, the exclamation came when Abitha's eyes finally rested on Maggi's face and recognizes the blonde, almost looking like she were going to recoil away. Her hand shoots up and pulls her hood down snug over her eyes. Her head listed back, the posture seemed less a horrible attempt to hide, and more some sort of exercise in slowing her heart rate.

When the hood is pulled up again, she almost looks pitiful, "Fuuuck, dont scare me like that..." She glances past Maggi's now abandoned place toward the other woman, more yellow catching her eye, noticing the fresh slices and the lack of ham on them, as if that were the only thing to have in that combination. "Is she fucking with me, are they really?" She asks Alison, on the verge of whining.

Alison had been lost in her pineapple-focused reverie when the exclamation of no more ham came forth from the blonde woman. It strikes her as odd, but she only shrugs in response to it. She's got bigger fish to fry. Or pizza to eat? Something. Pizza.

Abitha's exclamation, on the other hand, does get her attention. Alison's head turns towards the woman, one eyebrow raised, as she exclaims about Maggi's presence. She turns on her stool, her slice of pizza in both hands and also her mouth, not unlike a chipmunk snacking on a particularly tasty nut. "Not sure. Didn't ask! I always order a custom pizza. The hawaiian always came with mushrooms when growing up, can't touch the stuff anymore even without mushrooms." She swallows a bite, chewing briefly, then continues, "and ham's for family dinner. I like my pig in pepperoni and bacon form, myself."

Maggi does her best not to let out a snort at Mac's reaction, the amusement only furthering at the words of the pizza connoisseur. Feeling smug with her ruse, she continues walking to the register, letting them know that she was paying for an online order. The mushrooms bit strikes her as a bit odd, but to each their own. Pacing back towards her spot to wait she interjects. "Crispy or floppy on the bacon?"Maggi's question is congenial, having no issue with her. Waiting for a reply she gives Mac a shit eating grin. Ordering online had also allowed her to maintain the illusion of ham scarcity. This was probably not what one was supposed to do with a psychology degree, but then again what exactly were you supposed to do with one anyways?

The assertion Alison makes about pig earns her a skeptical squint from Abitha, "Ok, but like... I get enough salt on the daily." From what, anyone can guess if that were a gamer joke. She catches that smile as Maggi comes back, the squint leveled at the taller - by way of height and heels - woman. "Oh my god, why are you so smug..."

Shoulders slumping, head thrown back, Abitha grumbles her way over to the register to harrass the clerk and make her order. After a moment, however, there's clear relief in her posture, an almost amicable, excited smile on her face as she's informed she had been trolled. As soon as she's handing over a card, the smile vanishes, replaced by a scowl in Maggi's direction. She shakes a tiny, angry fist while she waits to fill out the slip.

Alison gives another little shrug, though the first shrug had been only to herself. "On a pizza? Crispy, most places do it like bacon bits. With eggs? Floppy. Floppy bacon on a pizza sounds weird, I think?" And yet another shrug as she takes another bite of her slice.

The redhead hauls her legs up on another stool at the bar beside her as she chews away. She isn't a huge gamer, at least not to the point where she'd understand what Abitha had been getting at. She does offer, though, "That's what the pineapple's good for. Sweet offsets the salt." The interchange between the other two woman gives her pause, though, and she stares at each of them briefly in turn. "Did you two used to date, or something?"

Maggi nods in an appreciation of the carefully considered bacon food group. She also thinks about the merits of floppy bacon on pizza, perhaps she would try it... A middle finger extends outward toward the angry fist for a split second. Then she hears the comment.

The snort is unavoidable this time, and rather loud and unladylike noise. This turns to laughter so consuming she almost cannot breathe. Finally composing herself, Maggi wipes the edges of almost tearful eyes. "Nah, the Gremlin just pissed my off at a bar once when I was trying to be nice. I offered my jacket because she was shaking like a rabbit and she told me my fashion sense sucked." Another paper plate is passed from the other side on the counter as Maggi's order is filled. She continues standing and talking though, seeming to loathe the idea of attempting to perfect the flyer again. This was after all, far more amusing. "Moved back here a bit ago and am trying this whole 'open to new possibilities' thing. Mostly it's going terribly other than learning that apparently the waffle place is a hookup joint now." Realizing she was being entirely self absorbed she holds out her non greasy hand to the bacon eater. "Maggi" she states simply hoping to catch a name in reply.

Abitha missed the question from across the pizzeria, so as she arrives back to her seat, she is suitably confused by Maggi's laughter, blissfully unaware. A single eyebrow arched in a supreme look of confusion, she catches the tail end of the story, "Ok, one: not cool." She was counting points on her fingers, talking about the pork ruse, one hip jutted out in preparation to sass, "Two: I had just run across the street in just a sweater. I was shaking off the cold. Three: I complimented your style. You're fucking taller, better shoulders, and have a badass undercut. Who's gonna look better in a leather jacket?"

She huffs and climbs up onto her stool again, digging her arms back into her own jacket pockets, adding in a lower voice. "Also, wearing other people's clothes is weird..." The phone appears again, a blueish aura underlighting her face as she checks the standings again.

The cackling from Maggi brings forth a small smirk from Alison, by virtue of the mirth on display if nothing else. "News to me, but I've only been around here for a few months. Waffle place makes a killer churro waffle though." Her eyes glance over to briefly scan over the various stickers on the woman's laptop, and then back at her once she's offered a hand in greeting. "Alison. Hi." She initially seems a little confused at the offer of the hand, and just kinda.. reaches out and gives it a little friendly slap? "Gonna grab a Coke."

Alison'd wandered back to the front counter for that beverage, paid for it, and returned to the scene of the pizza consumption, cracking the can open. "Girl's got a point, there. You need to have a lot of butch energy to pull off a jacket like that." She gestures with her can towards the jacket nearby Maggi, as if she might be talking about a different one, perhaps.

The redhead turns to Abitha at her stool. "You could probably pull off a leather jacket with the right eyeshadow, I think?"

Maggi finds the slap amusing, a cheshire grin running across her face, before moving her hand to her pizza. She take's Mac's comments as a form of apology, looking less generally pissed off in her direction. Shoving some of the pizza in her face she replies with her mouth full in Mac's direction. "You just gotta have big dick energy. You got that." A sudden look of realization comes across her blue eyes, these were people...

"Can you guys look at this flyer/add thing I am making to help me pick a font? I have been reformatting for so many hours, comic sans is starting to look good..." Without waiting for a reply she puts the pizza down and rushes to grab the laptop, hand wiping oil on her high waisted skirt. She yammering the entire time, as per usual over-caffeination. "They dropped that I have to start getting in practical hours of cognitive therapy to willing participants by spring registration...so there goes vacation." She deposits the laptops between the two patrons, as though expecting interest. She taps the screen, the flyer reading: Maggi Madsen Cognitive Master's with focus in Parapsychology is taking on FREE talk therapy sessions at your convenience! Around the main blurb is contact info and in small print near the bottom No topic is too weird! The font is loopy cursive. "I just don't know if the font takes itself too seriously..." She waits patiently for feedback, kicking Mac's stool for attention.

Alison's agreements to her points are rewarded with a lifted hand dropped into a pointer-finger gun, complete with a 'Boom.'"Fucking hysterical." Abitha comments, deadpan, to Maggi's taunting addition, "I game alot. There's already enough dicks online. I'll try the eyeshadow sometime." She aims a wistfully appreciative smile in Alison's direction. Sometime when she had the energy to actually do a balanced face of makeup. Right now she was just coming off a wild alcoholic bender triggered by traumatic attempted Christmas shopping.

Her pizza is finally, blessedly passed across the bricks to her, and she nearly leaps on it, a look of deep, unending gratitude on her face to the passer. Pizza in her mouth, she responds to the kick with a grunt, eyes glaring at the interruptor of blessed pizza noms, then turning the hateful gaze on the computer.

Muffled by Italian perfection, Abitha asks, "Is that mother fucking Bradley Hand?" She's so offended by the script, the pizza is actually dropped back to the paper plate with a slap. Wiping her hands on her sweats, she makes childish 'gimme' motions, curling and uncurling her fingers, at the laptop. Still chewing, she wanders quietly, "Didnt you say you were into like telepathy and weird shit?"

Alison 's face is bare, at the moment. Though if either had seen her at the Grizzly previously before, she'd have been wearing some basic makeup along with bright red lipstick. "Not exactly a Sephora out here though. Pain in the ass if you're looking for a new shade.." She shrugs and shovels more pizza into her face.

The redhead glances over at the laptop when it's placed near her. "Hell if I know. I can never remember the damn name of a font that I like.. I know that they changed the default from Arial to Calibri at some point though, and it pretty much looks the same to me? Probably not Wingdings. I like ads that use all capitals, big thick letters." She squints at the text a little more closely. "What the fuck is para.. pastapyschology?"

Abitha's mention of telepathy gives Alison some pause, but not so much that she'd actually ask about it. Gray Harbor's a weird enough place as is.

Maggi gives a long sigh, breathing deeply and attempting to keep a straight face. She mimics Mac's numerical thought system. "Firstly, they won't let me get just a real degree in 'weird shit' so it's my minor, thus the cognitive mainstay. Secondly, your WebMD POS diagnosis of my degree, while not wildly inaccurate is rude. Thirdly, yes it is Bradley Hand. Lastly, what exactly is your affliction because I think I can get credit hours from dealing with a reaction that strong to font." The last bit is said a tad jokingly, but looking at the girl, something clearly kept her up at night.

Turning to Alison she grins politely and nods. On her laptop she highlights a few portions and tries out Calibri, her upper lip raising in meme like approval upon seeing it. She then bolds the small section and the major draw line. "If someone can read wingdings, they could probably use some therapy..." Her brain travels down that path briefly before returning at the question. "Parapsychology. It's weird stuff primarily, but I like pastapsychology better anyway. I would usually try to say it a little more acceptably, but Mac already ruined it. You're totally right though, this looks standard but the bold helps, good eye!"

Abitha literally can't even. 'Pastapsychology' has her launching into the maddest cackle one could imagine. She gasps for breath, "May he bless us with his noodly appendage!" squeezed out between laughs, leaning both arms on the counter for support. It takes her a long moment to compose herself, wiping an actual tear from her eye, "Oh god, my sides, ugh... BRADLEY HAND..." she begins with force, banishing the humor successfully, a finger held aloft. "...is top 10 worst fonts in existence. We're talking Papyrus level." Honestly, with this analysis, Maggi was clearly not off the mark.

She begins to snicker occasionaly as she takes another large bite. Chewing, watching, she covers the amusement behind her fist. Her silence on the correction of fonts and sizing communicates the changes were at least more tolerable.

Alison grins at the seeming acceptance of her inability to grasp the bigass word. "Now I want spaghetti. Don't end up having pineapple on pizza very often though.. the girlfriend says I'm 'not allowed'." She does the whole air quotes thing in the air with her fingers, rolling her eyes all the while.

She stares at the laptop a bit longer. "You're posting this on Friendzone too, right? I mean, that's where all the weirdos who're into 'weird shit' hang out." No air quotes this time. "I can't imagine you having much trouble finding people to talk about that kind of thing around here, either way."

Maggi is about to tell Mac that the flying spaghetti monsters noodles are probably covered in sauce, which is its bodily fluid. She stops herself with a raised finger, not wanting to give her nightmares. Her look of disapproval turns to Alison instead. "Why in the world would you be disallowed pineapple?" Blinking, she also decides to only pursue this in a light fashion. Her frown remains, but lessens at the advice. "That is pretty solid advice. I haven't really checked it out much since I was a kid, lot of BSers. I also have to get some hours of monitored conventional practice. I'll see if it's gotten more legit though..." Maggi opens a tab and seems to get lost for a few minutes in forums, though if Alison answered her first question her attention would quickly return.

Mouth still quite full as she finishes her first slice, Abitha posits, "Sounds like its time for a new girlfriend." Because obviously, the forbidding of pineapple on pizza is grounds for divorce. Or breakup. Whatever normal people do with relationships. A brief sideways glance is made in reference to the Friendzone, the side-eye enough to announce her thoughts on the matter. Abitha steered clear of weird stuff as much as she could. Or at least ran really fast away from it.

"No one on that forum wants to game. Boring." Which was damn weird for the amount of actual high-end gear she'd sold in the past months. She continues to watch Maggi's screen with a little more interest than should probably be proper.

"Well, it's not so much that I'm not allowed pineapple as she doesn't like it on pizza. And if she's not happy, then I'm not happy, you know? We can get separate pizzas but it's just not the same as sharing one.." Alison shrugs gently, and then directs at Abitha with a grin. "There's so many other things that I like about her that offsets the pineapple. And when she's busy with school and shit, I can just come here myself."

"I was thinking more, find people online to be your.. test subjects? But in person, have them come in to wherever you do your thing, not just hop directly into the DMs and talk it out there. I dunno." The redhead takes a big bite from the crust of the slice she'd been working on. "Mmm. Delicious pizza bone." She just closes her eyes and focuses on the carby goodness, accented with the slight scent of pineapple.

Maggi squints at Mac's veiled interested disinterest, her head turning slightly, an eyebrow raised. Maintaining that expression, she picks up the paper plate of pizza and finishes it off, waiting for the diminutive girl to notice. At Alison't explanation she nods in agreement. It was not the same as sharing a pizza, that's why she got slices, less lonely that way. It was almost like not having to admit the need for it. She was a strong independent slice and she didn't need no...wow this was officially depressing. Maggi shakes her head to clear the thoughts. "Still a worth it lead, I'll get it into the paper too. We are pretty military heavy and whatnot..." She didn't need to belong to a pizza...Maggi returns to her judgement of Mac for a moment before posing her next bit in a bit of an obvious tone. "If either of you can think of anyone who would benefit from having someone to talk to like in person let me know. I need all the hours I can get." Steely eyes look at the now empty pizza plate and she shuts her laptop, shuffling to put it in her bag. "You are mighty wise Alison. Sounds like you got a good thing going too."

Abitha makes a droning grunt at Alison's defense of the hater, eyes aside. It's not like she was any great authority on relationships. The pizza bone comments gets a snicker though.

With all the social grace of a hippo, Abitha slowly realizes Maggi was staring at her, and for the first time during this interaction, Abitha's eyes avert. Her shoulders hunch forward, elbows places on the counter, looking to all the world to just be focusing on her pizza. Worst body language to try to hide shame and guilt possible. Her own second slice is pretty much wolfed down, halving already cooled for easier consumption.

Innocently, Abitha would add, "Yeah, well... If you ever need any advice on something to do in your free time, come by the Control Pad. 'All work and no play' and all that."

Alison finishes the pizza bone, and stretches out, her short limbs sprawling as she gives her head a shake, red hair floofing about her shoulders. She grabs an empty pizza box from the other side of the bar. Probably supposed to ask for one of those, but eh. It's not like they're gonna say no. She slides the remnants of her pizza into the box and closes it up to take home.

"I don't know if I know anyone looking to talk to a shrink about weird shit, but I'll keep it mind, I guess." She pauses to finish off her beverage, setting the empty can back down on the bar, then looking up for a moment and mouthing something to herself, as if she's counting, then shrugs. "Good thing or two going, yeah. Settling in decently enough." The mention of the Control Pad makes Alison blink and look over at Abitha. "Control Pad, huh.. isn't that the place where.. what's her name, jesus. Neon red hair? Video game store, right?"

Abitha nods in Alison's direction, knowing immediately what she was getting at. "Sparrow." She fills in the blank. "Yeah, that's my shop." Her shop. This little hung over gremlin, talking with her mouth full, insulting people's font choices, was the owner of the Control Pad. God help the gamers of this town. "She's the best employee I got." which isn't a far stretch for anyone that's met Kyle.

Abitha was not a bone eater, and her crusts are crumpled up into the middle of the paper plate. She pushes her stool out to get down, somehow feeling the finality of the other twos' actions. Maybe more weirdness.

Maggi shrugs on her leather jacket and raises the messenger bag onto her shoulder. She honestly didn't even know what the control pad was entirely, but she figured she would become a convert another day. "Thanks for the formatting help! I super needed it. Hope to see you around!" Maggi found that she liked Alison's views on things. While rather different from her own conclusions, there were several things she had pointed out that Maggi had simply missed. "Later baconator, byeas Mac and cheese!" If she got home in the next 20 minutes, she might get to sleep for like five hours before feeling obligated to continue the search for practical clinician training...not that she would use it almost ever, other than the other day when she talked Leon out of frying her with lightening...

She sighs before grinning and heading out the door. Actual pleasant interactions and solid pizza, plus when she did have free time Alison's crew sounded like fun, maybe she would run into them. She heads out the door with a smile on her face.

Alison nods back. "Right! Sorry, I'm shit with names. I've passed by it a few times. Met her at the night club the other night. Can't remember a name, but hair like that is hard to forget. Maybe I'll drop by and see if I can find anything for Christmas presents."

Alison gives Maggi a little two finger salute as she makes her exit. "See ya." And then back to Abitha. "I'm gonna take off as well, I can't finish this whole thing right now." The redhead scoops the box of pizza up off of the bar counter. "Speaking of names, I don't think I caught yours.. did she call you Mac, was it? I'm Alison." Regardless of the named confirmation, she'll wish Abitha a good night and head out the door as well, disappearing into the night.

Even with the classy skirt and whatnot, as Maggi slips the jacket on, Abitha's hands both go out straight toward her, calling attention to it with the loudness of her body language, as if saying, 'See?!?!' The Mac and cheese comment is answered with a lifting of Abitha's eyes towars the ceiling, the nickname probably just as annoying as Maggi wanted.

"Yeah, its Mac. Nice to meet you, Alison." She offers a single swipe of a hand to stand as a wave as she meanders to a trashcan to dispose of her waste like an adult. Making sure her hood was in place and zipper pulled up tight, Mac takes a final look around the shop, eyes lingering briefly on the arcade machines before shaking her head and heading home herself.

She snaps her fingers as she's getting outside, the thought finally forming but knowing she missed the opportunity, hissing under her breath, "Angel Hair! Ugh..."