2019-12-23 - How to End a Frozen Hot Mess Kind of Day

When Lilith and Byron got out of the woods in the increasing snowfall at dusk, her SUV was buried in the snow where they parked it at the woods' fringe down by the trailer park and the end of Elm. Technically, they could just walk up Elm back to the shop and go up to the loft and get warm, but the vehicle will only get snowed in worse from here and Lilith keeps telling Byron it has Four Wheel Drive! Does she know a thing about using 4WD? No, she does not, weather does not usually call for it and she lived in Miami a long time too. Plus the vehicle is still kind of new.

Lilith also has the idea to fire melt some of the snow, but Byron's look alone talks her out of it the second she starts to bring it up because yes, fire melts snow, but without igniting the air and hurling force fire (which might damage the vehicle) there's not a lot flammable on the outside now to catch aflame in any productive way on a smaller scale. So they old fashion kick and dig and stomp some traction path behind the vehicle and around the tires, get out the owner's manual from the glove box to read about using the damn 4WD, then they give it a go.

It takes awhile, the snow and wind are driving blowing, they're freezing with red noses and cheeks, even Lilith's hands are numb from getting wet in her gloves with all the digging around to clear so they can just drive a little while up Elm after turning around. But eventually, they do that, and it's dark as they're stomping off all the snow and removing boots once in the back door. They move up the stairs to the loft to get warm while peeling out of outerwear in sock feet, very cold, worn out, hungry, and perhaps a bit traumatized from their time in the woods that very much didn't go as planned.

And when they open the door, the cat bolts all the way to the bar from the bed, onto the counter, then the TOP of the FRIDGE to huddle and stare (angrily?) at them. It's warm in the loft. But it's damn sure not pretty. The cat has been either enacting vengeance or having one hell of a snow day good time in here.

Lilith stops short to stare, somewhere between impressed at the sheer scope of it and irritated that this is what she's walking into after a rough time.

"... I don't know if I'm mad or impressed. We might have been asking for this."

Lilith might not know much about how to use her 4WD, but Byron knows enough about it. Does he tell her? Not immediately. And it's cute watching her try to work things out by reading through the manual after they'd spent ALL THAT TIME digging the freakin' car out of the snow. He should've told her, but after all that effort spent, despite this desire to just get back home, even if home is her place, instead he'll just take this bit of amusement and let her figure things out. Sitting inside in the somewhat warm comfort of the SUV leaves him content enough.

At this moment, he's not expecting them to do any cooking. Though in truth, they should be shopping for groceries for Christmas Dinner, though they honestly haven't really planned that far ahead, even if it's coming up in the next few days. For tonight though, he's planning on ordering in and with that, his phone is already reaching into his pocket. He could use a nice hot shower and probably a nap, but food sounds really--

Once they reach the loft and are exposed to the disaster zone that their next guest had created, lovingly, for them, he clutches the phone tightly in hand. "That thing has got to go. We don't need it anymore. Let's just shove it out the door and move on with our lives." He could be joking. He could be exaggerating. However, it's been a really long day for the both of them with no fun to be add at the creek.

Lilith tilts her head while staring at the cat staring at her and Byron in turns from that perch on the fridge, out of relative reach from the woman, at least. After pulling in a huge breath, she eyes the puke on the rug, then another spot right by the automatic feeder and she toys with the idea of seeing if cats always land on their feet. There's snow, it's fine, right? Actually, that's pretty mean, even for her, and look at that face. Okay, not the face, maybe, that looks angry. The soft fur is nice.

Lilith is clearly considering it and going through a thought process or two after seeing the cat puke and making a bit of a face. But at least it's not in her bed or on her couch (which are both different levels of claw shredded in choice places). And though she generally has a temper when frustrated, which she is for the moment, all cold and hungry and spooked by earlier events, right in her newfound role of puke-cleaner... she doesn't lose her temper. It is just a cat and they took it out of the alley wilds to put in a rather big cage full of things it's probably not accustomed to. She does have wits and a heart most of the time, anyway.

Resuming getting out of her layers there at the door to start hanging coat with mittens, she looks at Byron and suddenly grins a little bit, "... it's looked worse in here. Sorry, I had to. It's my coping mechanism." Uh huh, she's talking about the time he was ring possessed and trashed the place looking for the damn ring. But after peeling down to camisole under her sweater, she flips it at him and steps in to rise on toes for a kiss, "Can you make it clean up? Do I get to see that scene in Cinderella in action one day? Can you summon little birds and mice?" Gosh, that'd be nice right now, but she tacks on more realistically, then, "... and do you think pizza is delivering in this?"

There's a part of Byron that's considering tossing the cat out the window too, but he's rather no-nonsense when it comes to grievous insults such as this. Perhaps, this is why he never had pets before. He can be quite unforgiving. Once his boots are finally off, setting them to the side and out of the way, he's contemplating reaching up there and just snatching the creature by the scruff and dragging it down. Or invading the thing's mind, filling it with all sorts of horrors-- very much like the way he did that one bride's maid at that Doomed wedding during the Masquerade. Or just grabbing it and electrocuting it in a puff of fur. All of those things race through his mind in rapid succession.

"We should've let it out once those damned pictures were taken." He's quick to say, crossing the room with his winter garb still on and he looks like he is about to reach up there to make a grab for that damned cat. That damned cat... reminds him of his father's nickname for Alexander. That damned kid. Strange how that just came to mind. "You want the cat to clean it up?" His voice should be coming out firm and slightly annoyed, because that's how he looks right now, but instead, there's some amusement in his tone. "That would mean that this damn thing just eats up whatever he threw up on your rug. Which... is disgusting. And something that dogs do all the time."

Reaching up atop the fridge, but not in a threatening motion, instead just sticking a finger, still gloved, up for the cat to sniff at, he says, "They /should/ be delivering. With some delays. I mean, they'd make a killing tonight with everyone stuck at home."

Lilith watches Byron with the cat as subject of finger point with a bit of a helpless grin, though her eyes flit to the puke again and that turns into an 'ew' for explanation on how the cat sure would clean that puke up if inclined! The brunette shakes her head quickly, pulls her hair down free, then wanders over to the bedroom portion of the loft to stand next to the hamper and drop her sweater into it. She gets down to black low-riding hipster panties and the bottom layer black camisole before leaning to put her hand on the bed to pull off sock layers. Then she notices the sheets are shredded while making a suggestion, "Okay, no, I'll clean it, you order pizza and make sure it's done... doing terrible cat things. It was my idea to go outsourcing for a damn photo."

Suddenly, when she's staring at the sheets, they knit together with self-repair at behalf of her exertion on abilities, facilitating more suggestion, "Then we body heat each other with bed snuggles to wait on pizza because I need skin heat and cuddles after today."

"Besides..." Lilith crosses to go get cleaning supplies out from the utility closet above the washer and dryer, along with a towel from where some are folded on the top of the appliances and awaiting put-away, "The pictures turned out pretty amazing. How'd he like what we sent? Or did you send quite yet?" While moving to the corner of the rug to tackle that heap first since it's not on hardwood, Lilith squats down and loses her fond look she was shooting at Byron with the commentary and inquiry. Instead she stares at the cat puke and tries not to breathe while visibly steeling herself.

The woman literally has flayed people open before, set them on fire, broken bones with terrible crunching noises, seen her share of terrible things and blood and she was in the sewers once in a dream! She powers through those kinds of gores like a champ. Yet like with the dream where they literally battled the snot-slicked Veil Illness in manifest form, puke seems to bother her on a girly level. Everyone has their things, even when they're a stubborn bit of tough like Lilith.

The cat is wary, as it should be after the outrage that it caused, when Byron moves in close and when that gloved finger is raised it nearly backs up even further into a corner. But Byron is patient... enough, at this moment and waits for the critter to calm down a bit and give the glove a sniffing. He only really notices Lilith once she gathers up the cleaning supplies and looks to be prepared to scrape up that mess. By then, the cat has already crept forward to first sniff at and then rubs its head against the offered finger.

"Let me do that." While Byron doesn't know for certain that Lilith has a phobia or dislike of gross stuff, he's just offering this up as a gentleman more than anything else. After scritching idly at the cat's ear for a moment, he pulls away and starts to remove his gloves to set down on a nearby kitchen counter. He also unwraps the scarf around his neck, because the last thing that he needs is for it to drape down into the vomit, so it's a good idea to not even allow that to happen to begin with.

"You can call for pizza." He says, dropping down into a crouch near Lilith, taking the sponge and stuff out of her hands. "And the pictures were sent. Hughes found the cat to be interesting, said that he never saw a cat with that angry expression before. Also said that he thinks that it's a Selkirk Rex and wondered where I got it." He can't help but smile with some sort of annoyance on his lips with a shake of his head, "One lie always turns into something bigger, branching out. Though, I guess it's safe to say that I found it at the local shelter. You know, rescuing them and all."

Though at this offer to snuggle up in bed as they wait for food, he looks back down at the mess made. "If you really want these hands snuggling you." He says, showing her his newly exposed hands once he's set down the sponge, "Then I can definitely comply."

Lilith stays squatted down next to the mess on the rug to make it politely seem like she's going to insist since it was her idea, but in truth, she's ready to leap up and go for her phone and leave Byron to it when he offers! She stays just enough, though, and lingers in the squat next to him to blow out her breath over her lips from holding, leaning in to kiss the side of his bristled face three times over before rising to walk for her phone. And while she's walking, she side-eyes the cat and tries to see what it's doing from perch. Now that Byron exited the kitchen and Lilith is a good distance still, it jumps down to counter, then stalks across the bar to look at the man cleaning.

Honestly, it looks angry about the puke it was saving for later being cleaned up, but then again... that face makes it look angry about everything. The tail is twitching, though, and upright. Maybe it likes Byron even while not being mentally brow-beat into compliant instructions, despite having a finger in its face. Maybe it's a man's cat. Go figure. It mostly just watches Lilith to make sure she's not coming near the bar and looks interested in what the man is doing.

Lilith is not going near the bar, though, she grabs her phone, crawls onto the bed with her own feline, ass up posturing for Byron to have something to look at on the way in her little panties, then drops with rolling curl onto her side to tug at blankets for half-ass drape cuddling, "I want those hands on my ass, but now you're just being icky, so keep on icking over there." Then she dials the number to order, and while waiting for the phone to ring and answer, she tacks on with a bit of a smile his way, formed by complete fondness despite the small slant, "Love you, though."

After ordering and hanging up (and complaining about the wait time), she tosses her phone and stretches out her arms over her head while eyeing the back of the ripped up couch from a distance, "Anyway, it's not really a lie, we did rescue it from a trash can shelter. But hey. I have an idea for the cat. And that idea involves actually naming the cat because..." Her fingers curl and uncurl like looking at her couch is making her want to fix it, then she just does while staring at the spot. The fabric mends and she moves on with her planning verbally for Byron, "We get it accustomed to being inside and hanging around so it's taken care of. Then when it's not so wild, we just let it have the run of the whole building and it becomes a shop cat. And honestly, if it wanders out the front door at that point and doesn't take to it, well, we tried, didn't we?"

Then she pauses, "Also I bought your mother a couple of gifts. But we don't have to give them to her. I was just... well, I wasn't sure. They're nice, but not overblown, probably re-giftable. I wasn't sure of the Christmas protocol there."

Despite this task that he volunteered to do, Byron beams brightly as Lilith relishes him with kisses before smartly getting the hell away from this gross mess. It's not a huge mess, but any sort of throw up is huge in itself. The first thing he does do is dampen the space with a shit ton of paper towels to remove any solid bits like grass, for instance. There's a pile of soaked up and used paper towels that are set off to the side. If Lilith gave him rubber gloves in his size, he's using them right now! If there's other food bits in the vomit, that gets scraped and absorbed by the paper towels as well. He then lays yet another several paper towels on the area to pick up any excess bile there.

There's pause here now. For one, Byron finally notices that the cat crept close enough to observe him hard at work from where its perched on the counter. "Do you think this is funny? Does this amuse you?" He says in harsh words, but he's talking to cat! "I have a mind to make you eat all of this up, but you'll just end up puking it out again anyway."

Secondly, well, there's a scantily dressed woman on her bed with her rear just thrust up in the area like that, her body arched forward. "I'd tell you to hold that thought, but this might take a bit."

When he returns back to work, he's all grins though. Just that very image is burned into his brain now, making this work slightly... bearable. Now he brandishes the sponge and starts to rub it atop the stained carpet, letting the cleaning solution disinfect that particular area. "You're still gonna need to give this a good wash." He'll make sure to say, before rinsing the sponge inside of the bucket with the solution and giving it another go. What comes next is the the cleaning up of the hard floor beneath, which is a much easier task now.

Her idea of what to do with the cat, however, has him saying, "He's staying here, so you can deal with him." In his knelt down position, he gives the place a look over, "Didn't think you had a mouse problem, but if you did, this cat is your answer." While he's not going to come up with a permanent name for the feline, he does add, "I told Hughes that my cat's name was Smog and he mistook it for Smaug. Readers, the lot of these investors."

Then his mother is brought up and this gets Byron's attention somewhat. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it. After having sold most everything she owned when I was gone." This is a lie, "She could use some new things."

Oh yes, Lilith dropped off cleaning gloves with the spray bottle and towel and scrub sponge and bucket and all that with over-prepare because she certainly didn't want to accidentally touch it. While he's admonishing the cat standing there watching him, Lilith has to turn her face into the blankets briefly to smother a huff of laughter, "I think I should invest in Amazon and a wet steam cleaner for the rug if this is my brilliant plan, yes. I'm certainly not bringing him to your place after seeing what he did in here, anyway, he'll pull down our Christmas tree and open our presents and everything else. Furry heathen." Her eyes narrow with squint up at the cat after the couch is knit back and it angry-faces her right back with a lack of apparent amusement.

But when it looks back at Byron, despite the face, maybe it's sucking up a little bit. The cat lets out a small 'meow' as if to comment on the general state of affairs, though to what ends, who knows. Certainly doesn't look or sound like an apology, though, not with that face. It hops to a barstool and sits to start licking a paw with its own bout of cleaning afterwards. And Lilith just sighs audible and long and shakes her head at the cat like she's not entirely sure about the planning she's just voiced. But she went and said it aloud, so that's the plan now, damnit.

Moving from idle, the brunette's body rolls onto stomach and her bare legs bend idly with kick up while considering the name, chin in prop against a hand, "Your investor is a nerd. He likes cat pictures and assumed you meant a Tolkien dragon. Which..." Her eyes flit to the cat and the pale smoke hue and the rare yellowish eyes of intensity, "That's actually kind of a good name. He's probably as much dragon as cat, look at those eyes. They're practically draconian. He's Smaug now, unless you just absolutely hate that. And... alright. I'll wrap them." Shifting again, she edges up on her knees and leaves her lower front on the bedding, arms reaching up with stretch as her back hits full dip, hips and ass jutted upward to hold pose like that for stretch (show) as he finishes up.

"I think he likes you better than me. I can't really blame him. I sure like you for cleaning that up." Pause, "So we have a cat now."

"At least with dogs, you know that they feel guilty after doing something wrong." Byron comments once the floor beneath the carpeting is completely scrubbed clean. It's easier to tell when the floor is clean. The carpet, unless the stain is visibly gone, will continue to look dirty until it's all dried up. And maybe that's a good thing, it tells you exactly where the mess was made. Laying the carpet back down, he smooths it out as best he can. "I'm sure once its housebroken that it won't cause this much damage again." But he's not completely sure and Alexander doesn't give him some sound bit of advice until the next morning.

"If you have carpeting a good steam cleaner is a must." He'll say in agreement just as he's gathering up all the supplies and that bucket of chemicals and filth that he plans to dump into the toilet. "You can apologize all you want." He tells the cat, "But if you keep this up, back to the alley with you." He tacks on, "Or the animal shelter."

And there she goes again, giving him an eyeful for all his hard work. Dark eyes follow the length of her form, trailing along her long legs to view that thrusted hip. He wonders how long its been since she made the call. And how much time they'd have together until the delivery guy shows up.

Still, he's not quite finished, moving onto umping the pile of crumpled and soaked paper towels in a bin, which he plans to gather up and set outside in the actual trash can once this is all done. "You're gonna have to expect this more often anyway. The damage though, I'm sure once you spray water in its face one too many times, it'll learn." He says as he carries the bucket to the bathroom, where he keeps up with the conversation, "If you're calling it Smaug, I'll always spell his name with the O-G."

She can hear his laughter from inside of the other room, "/You/ have a cat. It's a shop cat and if it knows what's good for him, he'll behave or else." He keeps up with these vocal threats, though the cat has no idea that he's even being talked about. "So, you want to see if Tobin has plans for Christmas Dinner? Or we could either make something ourselves, which... I think we have our hands full as it is, or order out again. Whether my mother shows up or not, it's optional." He says this, but now he really has to wonder what his mother has planned.

"You can spell it however you want to, I know that's a dragon under that fur. And no-no. I'm not taking full responsibility for this cat as mine when he listens to you and likes you better. I will, however, compromise, and say that he's the kind of our cat that I get stuck with during a divorce. Because we're already married, remember? Estrangement only counts for so much. I figure when we get good and sick of each other and I slam a door on your hand during a tantrum, that cat is my single woman punishment until one of us dies. And when that happens, I'll feel compelled to get him friends and turn into a regular cat-lady." Lilith makes all this theory and supposing while holding her pose on the bed like that, watching Byron bustle around to tidy after the ick is largely removed and cleaned up. Eventually, though, she pulls her arms back and changes the pose some for him to walk out onto when he's finished in the bathroom.

Her hands go right in cross-over wrist fashion at the heavily dropped arc and dip of her back, utter salacious bondage pose to try and throw him off with humor or distraction or otherwise, despite the dry and subtly playful conversation and subsequent planning. But you know, her being a cat lady probably is the least likely thing in everything she's said, because that cat isn't going near her and she's not reaching out to go for it. They're basically ignoring each other and occasionally giving each other side-eyes with suspicion of one thing or another, but that might be a little expected. The woman is a little bit alley-cat herself sometimes and a damn tigress other times. Maybe this is how they bond for now.

"They quoted two hours for the pizza, you know. I'm not sure with this snow and the holiday we'd be able to find much good for takeout, but I did stock us both up the day before this all started, to some degree. It wouldn't be hard to make a thing or two to bring over to Tobin's and combine like potluck if he doesn't have plans already for the evening. Or we can eat in under the same principle, but I'm not too worried about what we actually eat this time around-- we did the food show and then some for Thanksgiving. And we're going to be doing some running and delivering and visiting during the day, it's more about the other bits to celebrate. We could also bring things in for your mother instead of having her in, then we control how long we stay."

Then, after a pause, she asks out of the blue, "Babe? Where would you live if you didn't live here?"

Once the muck is poured out, the sound of the toilet flushing can be heard before the bucket is set down into the tub to be filled up and rinsed out several times over. Byron is meticulous with his work, but this mess, all of it, does help to take his mind off of the encounter they had in the forest. Even though he's dreading the actual reading of that spike they'd collected. She can then hear the water from the sink turn as he washes his hands beneath its warmth. There's something about her rambling on the way she tends to, this speaking out of her every thought does bring an invisible smile to his lips. Invisible only because she can't see it until he leaves the bathroom.

Even he knows that when she throws a tantrum, it's not just going to be a door slamming on his hand, but this isn't something that he's willing to say aloud, himself. He's not like Lilith, keeping his own secrets. And he doesn't need to make her feel bad about what he knows-- or thinks about her temper and the powers she possesses.

Reaching for a towel to dry his hands off, he finally emerges back into the main room. Obviously, the first thing that he sees is Lilith on the bed and he admires everything about the lovely creature that she is. And then in the other corner, he notices the cat with the lamb-like fur. Its still licking at his paw, so that naturally angry visage is hidden away from Byron's sights. "We have another day," He finally speaks up, "To drop of all the presents that, if we were smart and efficient, we would've had delivered to everyone by now. Or mailed out. Alexander Clayton sent his in early. I'm hoping that he finds some amusement in the auction I won for him. I don't know what they told him about it, but he hasn't contacted me yet, so maybe he's in the dark."

He practically has to groan at this thought that it would take two hours for dinner to arrive. He was starving now. They trekked all the way out into the forest and for what? To be scared senseless by a murdered ghost. Then they were forced to dig Lilith's car out of the snow before they returned home to encounter, well... it seems like Lilith handled much of the other damage that the nasty critter had done. It's only then that he finally removes his outerwear to hang neatly on a rack and any other layer that the had on as well as those heavy duty cargo pants until he's left with a plain white undershirt and the warmth of a pair of form-hugging thermal pants.

"L.A., I think. Possibly even New York City. I'd been considering. I could move anywhere, just as long as I'm prepared to fly out for business meetings." There's this thoughtful pause now, when he asks, "You?"

Settling himself down at the edge of her bed, he places a firm CLEAN hand on the curve of her backside, but it doesn't stop there, his hands rubbing against her before they begin to roam as he shifts atop the bed now to kneel with is body pressed closely behind her. She feels his touch traveling along the length of her back, then over her shoulder before they rest before her, just above her clavicle, feeling the pulsating sensation at her throat.

"I don't know. I didn't used to plan. I wasn't ever any state of good away from here. But earlier, digging out the car..." Lilith makes quiet and low response after a soft and long breath is blown over her lips, lashes dropping down over her eyes as goosebumps flash over her skin to in response to Byron's roaming hand, then hands. And it's a little intense, the contextual contrast between what she's saying and feeling at the same time, pleasure seeking and relishing while addressing fear and divulging truths. Sometimes, it seems like their intimacy co-mingles and expresses physically what's happening emotionally, the need to seek pleasure and comfort in each other, the sharing, all unleashed and culminated with rampant desire.

Also, more tactically, they are spooked, stressed out, and starving and this is a perfect way to distract from that. Killing time and de-stressing physically with sex is some nice double duty, right? Lilith's mind is a bit split before she's taken with a tangible shiver that racks over her body once she feels Byron behind her, tracing her back, then the pressure of his hands. Her eyes re-open and she has to remind herself to breathe, she's so lightning crack aroused all of a sudden, but she finishes what she was saying, breathily, "I did. I didn't decide anywhere, but I knew then... you made me remember how to look forward again."

Her hands stay poised submissive with willing control, despite the shiver that takes down the length of her body, "But don't look at that murder spike without me nearby. And don't be gentle just because the cat's watching."

Oh, the cat's watching, but the tone of Lilith's voice implies she doesn't give any damns about it. Also she's not looking back, so there's that. All her attention is suddenly for Byron and the kneeling pose shifts with gradual spreading of thighs before those hips grind against him with meeting, "Assuming my demands are met..." There's a soft noise of anticipating and pleasure in her throat before she goes on, "Everything you say and do until that doorbell rings, goes."

It's been a very hard day and what and the both of them had been through so much that this moment of closeness and intimacy was what Byron needed to help him unwind. Leaning forward, she can feel his tall, lean frame pressed down against her back as if molding himself to her body. The fingers around her throat press down firmly, even he doesn't squeeze to choke her, allowing Lilith her breath when it's his own hot breath now that she may feel at the back of her neck, the soft bristles of his bears tickling against bared flesh.

His body trembles behind her when he breaks out into a bit of laughter, "I hope that you're not looking forward to the both of us digging out either of our cars out from the snow over the remainder of his White Winter Wonderland." Without even looking at him, there's just this sense that he's smiling broadly at this. This is soon followed by a few quiet kisses trailing down the curve of her shoulder, moving in closer still to the side of her neck, opposite of where his arm reaches over, his hand still positioned rather lovingly at her throat.

He won't protest her ensuring that he reads the murder spike in her presence, even if he'd feel more comfortable doing so alone. Bringing up the cat, however, does make his head turn to take a quick glance behind them to see if the feline really was silently observing. Not that it would stop him even as their eyes meet and he's looking at that less-than-thrilled expression, which tends to be the only expression that Smog ever makes.

Leaning ever closer still, she can feel the pressure behind her in his own anticipation, the beating her heart pulsating against his touch. He had some business to attend to tomorrow, which means making the journey back home at some point. But for now, all that he can think about is her and what he wanted to do to her, before the moment expires with the ring of the doorbell.