2020-12-20 - Breakfast made for three

The smell of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air to mix with the unmistakable aroma of frying bacon. The airstream is tiny, so the sizzle coming from the little stovetop that Seth stands at while he cooks echoes throughout the small space, whispering savory promises of crispy salted pork.

Seth picks up the last remaining slices of bacon from the frying pan, setting them with the others on a paper-towel covered plate to drain right next to the tray of tall paper cups of steaming coffee. Using the remaining bacon grease, he dumps some diced potatoes into the pan to start frying up as he moves to dice up some onions and peppers for the mix. He looks disheveled, like someone who either didn't sleep or slept sitting up in a chair. The clothing he wore yesterday still upon his body in a much more wrinkled state. His automatic rests in its holster at the small of his back, unhidden, unlike its usual state.

Ravn has slept in a lot of places -- much more so during the three years he spent bumming from a town in southern Denmark all the way south until he ran out of Europe, and got on a plane to New York and started going west. He's definitely capable of sleeping soundly in spite of others bustling about, making noise, and doing whatever people do; hostels, bus stops, cheap hotels -- they all have a lot of people and very few boundaries.

What they don't usually have is the scent of someone frying bacon. He quirks an eye open and recognises the interior. Home, technically speaking. For the time being, anyhow. Fine, home away from home -- is there coffee?

Let's just say that the Dane is possessed of a rather labrador-like look as he sits up. He's definitely not a morning person. "You look about as well rested as I feel," he murmurs.

The smells of bacon and coffee are even better alarm clocks than the smell of pizza. Vic slept heavily thanks to the drugs in her system, but the wafting promise of breakfast has her stirring on the converted banquet-to-bed. She groans. "Did anyone get the number of the freight train that hit me?" is mumbled, one arm thrown over her forehead to shield her eyes from daylight. At some point she ditched her boots and pants and slept in the tee Ravn gave her and her undies. She lifts her arm ever so slightly to squint first at Seth, then at Ravn. "You stayed overnight?" she mumbles at the former, before quirking a half smile at the state of the Dane's hair. "Did you stick your tongue in an electrical socket?" she asks, as she slowly, carefully, sits up.

"Sorry, didn't see what hit you, just the aftermath," Seth says as he looks over his shoulder to Vic. "Whoever was driving though got off lucky. Yeah, I stayed over. I wanted to make sure you were ok, and also wanted to make sure someone didn't decide to come along and finish what they started...just because you said it was over doesn't mean it was." The enforcer shrugs as he puts a handful of onions and peppers into the frying pan, mixing them with the potatoes along with some salt and pepper. "Sue me, I care. I'll plate you up once the potatoes O'Brien are done."

Ravn draws his attention away, "Hey, at least you got to sleep, it isn't my fault it wasn't restful. Coffee over here, black just like you like it."

"Oh, I always feel like an extra from the set of The Walking Dead in the morning," Ravn murmurs and gravitates towards the coffee pot. "Some people are bright and bushy tailed in the morning. Not one of them."

He does run a slender hand through his hair before pulling his gloves on. It doesn't help.

"Did you get any rest? Both of you." He flops down on one of the kitchenette chairs and reaches for his cellphone; people who have family and students in timezones nine hours ahead may have mails and messages waiting when they wake up.

"If it wasn't over, I wouldn't have come here to Ravn's, Monaghan. I don't like to bring doom upon my friends," Vic quips. "I'd have just gone to Kelly's, and woe betide whatever idiot decided to come at me there." She runs a hand through her messy hair, and catches a finger on the elastic that is impossibly tangled in it from the braid she started out yesterday with. "Have scissors, Ravn? This isn't coming out any other way. And yeah, I slept hard. God bless Percoset." Pause. "Where are my pants?" because she doesn't remember where she threw them.

Without looking back at her this time, Seth sighs and rolls one of his shoulders, "Not knowingly you wouldn't, no. But you and I both know from experience that just because someone thinks something is over doesn't mean it actually is and people get surprised by a visit from someone like me, but I will defer to your knowledge of the situation. You say it's over, then it's over." Tossing some of the potato mixture onto a plate with some bacon, he carries it over with some coffee and offers it over to Vic, "End of the couch, I folded them and stuck them there last night after you passed out. Shirt too."

Seth looks over to Ravn and shakes his head, "Haven't slept yet. Not a big deal though, use to it. Besides, that is what coffee is for."

"'Where are my pants?' is definitely on the list of things I don't often hear before breakfast," Ravn murmurs and curls long fingers around his coffee cup while holding his cell in the other. He nods at Seth, choosing not to comment on the likelihood of violent visitors; this is very much in the ball park of his guests, and not him. "Yeah. All-nighters happen. Coffee good."

He sips his coffee. Then he falls silent, staring at his phone a moment before he quickly turns it off and focuses his attention on something else -- say, hello, Vic in underpants, that'll do.

Vic looks between the plate of food, and her erstwhile pants on the other end of her "bed". The hollow feeling in her stomach seems to win out, and she just makes sure the blanket is over her legs. She digs into the potatoes and bacon with gusto. She swallows a mouthful down and grumbles, "Thank you both. And Clayton too. I didn't mean to make myself such a bother. Nice to know I have people who give a shit though." She looks at Ravn's behavior with suspicion, but her phone is in her pants, so he's safe for the moment.

"How sad for you, Ravn." Seth says with a chuckle as he starts to plate up another plate of food, sliding this one over Ravn's way. "I mean, I think that would be one of the topmost requested phrases someone wants to hear in the morning."

He glances back at Vic, "Not a bother at all, Vic. After all, I did tell your dad we would keep an eye on you, right? I wouldn't want to lie to the man. How are the ribs today? I don't know how this power shit works, but I can try healing them again if you want."

"Am single, remember?" Ravn looks at his plate. Then he looks back at Seth. "Actually. Marry me? Adopt me? Something."

He's really not a morning person. Maybe in another cup of coffee or three, he'll get around to his usual wordiness. For now, though, the Dane is uncharacteristically quiet. Foreign languages are hard when there's too much hemoglobin in your caffeine circulation. He digs into his food with the delight of someone who doesn't cook, and whose breakfast usually is cereal.

Vic sips her coffee, black as her soul, and test pokes her ribs with the free hand. "They feel just bruised now, instead of cracked. That healing shit works miracles." She nearly chokes on a slice of bacon as Ravn proposes to Seth. "I can be Maid of Honor at the wedding, right?" she teases.

Seth laughs, a genuine smile coming to his face. "Wow, this is sudden. No ring or anything? I don't know man... I've seen how you live, how would you provide for me?" He shuts off the stovetop, moving the pan from the hot burner.

Seth starts to make a plate for himself, glancing over at Vic, "Fuck no, you get to be my best man. I expect one hell of a bachelor party." Pause. "Seems to. I didn't know I could to that till recently...I'll have to thanks Alexander for letting me know. Or was it Maggi? I don't remember who said I could do it, but it was one of them. I guess I should thank the two of you for getting hurt so I could practice, but that would be wrong."

"Maggi Gyre," Ravn murmurs. "She's the one who told you, I think -- that night at the Poorhouse? And if you don't mind, I'll try to avoid getting meat cleavers stuck in my limbs for the foreseeable future. Maybe I can scrape a knee or something if you need to practise. Although at the rate people get hurt around here, if word gets out that you heal..."

He leaves the rest of that unsaid. This is a town where it's perfectly normal to see your friends turn up in casts and stitches, and you don't ask what -- just how bad.

"Yeah I don't have any of that particular flavor of Glimmer," Vic notes to them. "Go figure, I do the opposite of healing things as a way of life," she smirks and sips more coffee. "From what I've been told, the healing thing used to be a lot more useful. It changed after something went haywire on the Other Side or something. I don't know the details. Clayton probably does."

Seth shifts his eyes from Vic to Ravn and back as she mentions her 'way of life', but doesn't say or do anything other than lift his coffee to his lips and take a sip. "From what I have been told I heal, and I can start fires. I don't have much experience with either, so this is all new to me."

Seth takes his plate and his coffee over to sit at the small table, stabbing a forkful of the potatoes and shoving them into his mouth. "I'll have to ask Alexander about it then, but it seems to be useful enough. I'm just glad it was only cracked ribs and not something worse or I might have had to call someone else in."

"Me either. You've seen what I can do. Need your car keys swiped, I'm your man. I'm trying to use my hands instead for that kind of thing though. That whole -- don't draw too much attention thing." Ravn tops up his coffee mug. "I've always taken it all very lightly because I didn't realise it could attract the attention of Nyarlathotep. So, trying to steal things the usual way these days."

He catches Seth's look and hitches a shoulder. "I'm not stupid. Just because I don't ask doesn't mean I can't do the math. Also, still pointedly not asking."

Vic snorts at the look from Seth. "He's not an idiot. And he's not as naive as he looks. Even if he looks like a drowsy puppy first thing in the morning." She swallows down some more breakfast. "But yeah, he's smart enough not to ask specifics." As to her own abilities. "I'm a mover, like Ravn, but a lot more advanced. And I can do a little of that mind thing, but only really with other people who have that."

"Fair enough," Seth says with a nod of his head before eating another forkful of his potatoes. "For the record, I never thought you were stupid, Ravn. Just have to be careful, you know?" Pause. "I've heard of...movers? But I don't know anything about the 'mind thing'. What, like reading people's thoughts and shit like that? No wonder everyone seems to know everything in this place. I was starting to think that people just sucked at keeping a low profile."

"Kind of. I'm told they can't read minds. Can't lift facts from your head. But they can lift emotions, and they can influence yours. Happened to me a couple of times." Ravn looks at them both over the rim of his coffee cup. "Had an anxiety attack in the middle of -- something bad. Maggi Gyre more or less just shut my emotions down. I won't say it was pleasant, but it was probably a very good idea at the time. Those bloody house elf things, Seth? That was the second time I met them, when they killed a lady in a pet shop."

Vic shakes her head a little at Seth's question, then regrets the motion with a wince. "No, more like projecting them. Can sense some emotions though, helpful to tell if someone is lying, if you can tell how nervous they are. And I can taser you without a taser." She holds out a hand to gesture at her pants, and they fly over to her. She slides them on and pulls out her phone, checking notifications. "Ravn, what were you doing with that horse?" she asks, blinking. Then she checks her texts. "I have some stuff I have to do today, and I need to call into the Twofer. I don't need Bennie and Three Apples asking all sorts of questions about my face. I'm gonna head back to my place and shower and shit. Meet up with you guys for dinner later, maybe?"

Seth glances over at Vic, the display of power not really startling him as he is starting to get used to all of this stuff. "Sure, Vic. Stay safe. Feel free to grab the bottle of Percoset from the bag if you need it, or whatever other flavors of painkiller you might want. I'll catch up with you later." Pause. "Ravn? Horse? Do I even want to know?"

His eyes shift over towards Ravn, looking for an answer.

"... Let's not speak of that horse," Ravn murmurs sheepishly. "Give my regards to Bennie. Haven't seen her since, well."

Oh well. The damage is probably done. Fuck you, Friendzone, fuck you, Mac. He slides his own phone over. There's a picture on it, of him, a couple of years or six younger, naked from the waist and up, holding a brown horse. They have one thing in common. Neither of them look like they want to be in that picture in the first place.

"I have no damn idea where she found that picture," he murmurs. "But I have a feeling I'm going to hear a lot about it."

As Vic heads out the door, Seth reaches over and takes the phone form Ravn. He looks down at the screen, his brow arching as the picture in front of him starts to seer itself into his brain. "Ravn?" he asks, "What were you doing with that horse?" He falls quiet again, staring at the photo a bit longer before shaking his head and handing it back. "I shouldn't have asked. I just should have left it well enough alone. I knew better, and I went and pulled an Alexander anyway. Who found this?"

"Mac," Ravn murmurs and points at the name of the person who posted the honestly not very fortunate picture. "She runs the game store downtown. We've got a bit of a one-upmanship going at times, but this one takes the bloody cake. I wasn't doing anything with that damned horse besides praying that it wouldn't eat my face. This was my fiancee's attempt to do art photography. The thing about Mac is, if it's on the net, she will find it, and she will use it if she thinks it's funny."

"She the green-haired one? I think Alexander has mentioned her before." Seth says as he tries to hold back a snicker. "So, that is actually a real photo? I swear to god I was hoping it was just a really good photoshop...because....yeah." Seth can't hold it back any longer and laughs...it starts as a sputtering as he tries to hold it back, but as he fails he just guffaws. "Oh god. That is priceless. Wait...let me see that back for a second, I want to put that photo as your contact photo..."

Ravn just faceplants on the kitchen table. At least he moves the empty plate first. "Bet you it's not the worst she can find, either. She has talent. I fucking hated that horse."

As the laughter subsides, Seth finishes eating his own portion of breakfast, picking up his plate, Ravn's and moving over to get Vic's as well to take them to the sink to start the cleanup process, "Remind me never to piss her off. I don't know what photos of me may be out there, but if they are anything like that one I do not want them to see the light of day. What the hell did you do to piss her off man?"

"Gave her a date. Literally. The fruit, wrapped in tin foil." Ravn looks up and reaches for his coffee mug. "Actually, it started with the whole... weirdass history thing. When I was a celebrity chef. I wanted to see how far it reached, and Mac was still consulting for the police as an IT specialist, so I asked her to -- you know, run a background check. Turned out everyone I grew up with in Denmark thought I was Swedish. But of course she ran with all the embarrassing stuff she found and has been taunting me silly with it ever since because that's how Mac rolls."

With a small grin he adds, "You'd get along just fine."

Seth chuckles. "I don't know. She seemed pretty standoffish to me the few times we have seen each other. I should bring her a date wrapped in tinfoil."

Ravn cants his head and looks a little more serious. "Honestly? I get the feeling she's a little... I found it easier to get along with her once we were both very clear on the fact that neither of us are interested in the other that way. She's got a bit of sit your ass back down, junior attitude towards guys at first, I think. Once she gets over it, she's pretty fun to hang out with. She was kicking mine and Clayton's backsides in some video game the other day -- it'd probably have gone better for Team The Boys if I'd known the first damn thing about video games."

"I don't think I should need to wear a sign around that says 'No I am not hitting on you' just so I am not met with hostility, ya know? But whatever...I'll stop by sometime and pick up the new Hitman game when it comes out and just subtlely leave foil-wrapped dates around the store. You know, to frame you."

"Why me?" Ravn murmurs theatrically.

Then he shrugs lightly. "I don't know -- I mean, no, obviously you shouldn't. But, in the years I've been on the road? Guys absolutely hit on anything that moves and wears make-up, and quite a few things that don't do either. She probably got her hands burned at some point and now she's overreacting a bit. I can kind of relate to that. Horse photographer left me with a few issues too. It's one of the reasons Vic and I get along as well as we do, too. We both know there's no interest."

Seth nods quietly, sipping at his coffee. "Yeah, I get it. You have a point, and I shouldn't be a dick about it either. Now I feel like an asshole about it. For fucks' sake, I shouldn't judge. Stones, glasshouses, etcetera, etcetera"

"Nah, doesn't mean you should take on some other guy's guilt, either. I for one refuse to. Women have issues with guys, they can have them with some other fellow." Ravn shrugs. "Mac can take a joke. You prank her, expect her to get you back twice as hard. But she'll be funny about it. I mean -- this is funny. In that bloody toe curling way that makes me want to come up with something just as bad to do to her, you know?"

Seth shrugs his shoulder without saying anything in reply as he washes the dishes, stacking them next to the sink after he rinses them off.

"It is funny," he finally says with a chuckle. "So...tell me about your fiance? Or is that a subject best left untouched?"

"Well, for one, she's dead. Killed her self drunk driving, five years ago. I'm not going to break down crying in your arms if you ask about it." The other man makes a wry little grimace. Then he shakes his head. "What she really needed was a well trained dog. We were breaking up -- we argued, she got drunk, rammed a tree at a hundred and twenty per hour. I spent a fair bit of time paying a therapist to listen to me about that. Eventually I got up and left."

He looks back at Seth. "I told you I see dead people sometimes, right? Your dead girlfriend's not someone you want to have come knocking. That's pretty much how I ended up here, cleaning tables at the Twofer instead of going for a professorate. Life's a bitch sometimes, you know? You've made some questionable choices of your own too, and here we are -- neck deep in Gray Harbor's weirdness, but at least here, the problems are kind of tangible. It's easier to deal with."

Seth nods as he finishes up washing the dishes and turns to face Ravn, "Sorry to hear that man. Even if you were breaking up that is rough. I can't imagine how that must have been for you..."

Seth combs his fingers through his hair and yawns, "..and a can of worms I don't think needs to be open after I have pulled an all nighter. I think I am going to head home and catch a couple of winks before the coffee wears out and I have my own issues falling asleep at the wheel. I'll call you later, maybe we can go grab a drink and you can tell me about it then if you want. No pressure though, if you don't want to. I'm not Alexander." Seth grins, patting himself down to make sure he has his wallet and keys...and gun. He heads for the door, opening it up and casting a glance back towards Ravn, "You're ok, right? I'm not like opening an old wound and running off like a dick?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Going to shower and then try to catch that student I hung on last night when Vic came in like the cat was dragging her." Ravn nods and offers a small smile. "You go get some rest, man. We can get drunk and swap horror stories about exes some other time."