2021-06-18 - Smoking In the Boy's Room

Does the state of Washington have a law against smoking on school grounds? No doubt. Does Ravn Abildgaard care? Not one bit. He'll go as far as not smoking inside the actual high school gym where people have to sleep in the smell of each other and their damp clothes already. But smoke he will, and this is why he's nipped around to the back door, leather jacket collar up around his ears and a cup of instant coffee in one hand.

This sucks. And the storm hasn't even properly hit yet. This is going to be the week from hell. And to think, he had offers to just quietly ride the storm out in someone's house on high ground. Instead he's here, trying to keep ahead of chaos. There's a lot of irony to this.

Provisions, provisions. Where there is a soul in need under the public eye, there is an Addington. Atli is passing by with a significant armload of 'Charmin Ultra Soft', her nose wrinkling at the smell of unwashed Dane and smoke. Her blonde hair is curled in ringlets, lips a soft pink. High-waisted denim capris with diagonal buttons, leopard print heels, and an over-sized burnt orange cashmere sweater adorn her form.

"Mr. Abildgaard." She greets with a dip of her chin and a disapproving tone.

"Mr Abildgaard is my father, and I do hope he stays dead, though in this town one never knows." Ravn flashes a lopsided grin at Atli, unrepentant because after 24 hours of dealing with grumpy mums, scared kids, and entitled yachters, it's going to take a lot to knock him off course (or back on it, all depending on your view). "Good to see you -- heaven knows we can use any hands we can get. This? This is going to be one of those life experiences we sit on the porch and bore our grandkids with, forty years for now. And by then, it'll probably all seem like it was great fun."

Atli's heart shaped face tilts, eyes moving from his 'smoking gun' to Ravn's gaze and back. She keeps her distance, an obvious sign of dislike for the habit. "Yes, well. Mr. Abildgaard..." The blonde remains firm on her addressing of the Dane. "Perhaps I could take some laundry over to the mat for the time being. Or perhaps shuttle a group? The storm has yet to hit. We might as well appear as though we have power whilst we do." The underhanded bite of her words nips at Ravn's heels. It was the equivalent of saying he looked like he had slept outdoors. The road to hell...

"I think that sounds like an absolutely splendid idea. Heaven knows we've got three kids with some kind of stomach bug and let me tell you, they use a surprising amount of diapers." Ravn looks a little tired. He must be picking up on her tone though, because he adds, "I had to get up at three am this morning to make an emergency run to the Safeway for those. Then talk to the people who were woken up by the noise and complained about it. Then other people complained about that, and a lawyer from Olympia is threatening to sue the city and the HOPE centre and anyone else within reach because the storm sank his boat -- which he didn't drydock in spite of the warnings going out a week ago. If I look like roadkill? I feel like it too."

\Coming in through the gym doors and shaking off the wet as best he can, Seth Monoghan enters into the makeshift shelter carrying a large, filled to the brim, milk crate full of various canned goods. He looks around for a place to stash the donation, and spotting Ravn across the way calls out to the man with an upnod of his head.

"Ravn," he questions the Dane, 'Where do these things go? Is there a donation pile around here or something?"

"You poor dear!" Atli exclaims, her lower lip protruding in a pout that was typically reserved for the animal shelter videos with Sarah Mclachlan music. "We should probably get them sequestered in a separate, but equally as safe space in the building. I'll check about who can drive the bus for those whom need washing done. And you?" Crystal blue eyes bat with genuine sympathy. "You can let me know what kind of real coffee I can bring by for you." Though she did not abide the lit cigarette, she seemed more forgiving of the action in her presence, like one may ignore a glass of wine a mother orders at a restaurant with an irritable child beside her.

Eyeing Seth warily, Atli considers. "You look like you can drive a bus." This is a statement, not a question.

"There is inside, yeah." Ravn raises a hand, glove and cigarette and all, in a lazy wave at Seth. "Appreciate it. All of it. People are really coming through for each other. Although if that lawyer guy from Olympia keeps complaining at me, I might have to hire you in your professional capacity, Seth."

Hopefully he means bouncer.

The bedraggled Dane smiles at Atli. "Black, always black, no frills. I wonder if this school has a school bus? You'd think it would. Did I mention I have no actual life skills or training applicable for this? Although the building hasn't exploded yet, no one's dead, and I even got a quite intimate offer, so we must be doing something right."

Seth eyes Atli right back, his brow raising curiously, "I can probably drive a bus, yes. The real question is why would I want to?"

The enforcer looks between Ravn and Atli, settling on Ravn for the time being as he hoists the milk carton up a bit more and carries it a few steps closer towards its intended destination, "A lawyer giving you problems? I know how to deal with lawyers, just give me the word, Darth."

Atli, whose arms are still full of bougie toilet paper, raises a brow towards Seth. "Excellent! Apparently, a few kids are sick and people need to do washing at the mat." She stacks her goods atop Seth's armload without asking in order to free her hands for a moment. Tying her hair up, which in Atli is 'go' mode, she then swing a cross strapped black designer bag about her. From within it she pulls out two hundred dollar bills and tucks them into Seth's hand. Standing back to admire her work, "There! Okay that should cover the washing and your driving fee. I am going to do some rearrangement inside to get this pandemic under control and procure keys. A group will be outside for you in half an hour."

Atli pivots to Ravn, "I'll bring your coffee by after I have assessed additional supply needs. Thank you for your leadership thus far." It was possible to translate this as Ravn was no longer in charge of his own operation, not that she would find an argument from him likely in his current state. Rolling up her sleeves, Atli walks towards the door.

"If he keeps complaining at me, I might set my lawyer on him," Ravn murmurs. "Or forget how to speak English. I usually deal with lawyers by paying them but in this case I am willing to listen to your ideas, Seth."

Then he shuts up. And just watches. And not until the door closes behind Atli Addington does his perfectly straight face crack.

When it does, though, he cracks into peals of laughter. It takes a minute or two before the Dane is able to murmur, "And, uh, that was Atli Addington. In case you didn't know her."

Stunned, Seth looks over at Ravn, "Did...did I just get voluntold that I am going to go do laundry?"

Ravn shoots Seth an angelically composed look. "Why, I do believe you did. I'll help. I find with women like that? If what they request needs to be done anyway, it's easier to just comply than to argue. Let's not tell Vic, though -- I consider Hyacinth Addington a close friend, and I think she'd hate losing a cousin."

Seth snorts out a chuckle, clenching the $200 in his hand with a shake of his head. "Well, I think this is a first. I'm am not exactly sure how I feel about it... Vic better not get any ideas." says the enforcer with a shake of his head. "I guess I am doing laundry today...but first I got to put this shit down. It gets heavy after a while. Unless you want to do something useful and take it?"

"Let's go drop it off and then -- go do laundry." Ravn is still laughing, shoulders silently shaking. "I swear, Seth, I'm going to survive this week and come out of it a changed man. I've seen things, man. Things at three am in the morning that only the mothers of small children are truly equipped to see and retain their sanity."

He relieves the enforcer of at last part of his burden and tosses the cigarette butt into a pocket. "There's a pile inside and people distributing things. Mrs Jankooooowski --"

Some towns have some kind of emergency plan. Some kind of organisation. Gray Harbor has -- well, lots of enthusiasm. Enthusiasm counts, right?

Following the Dane inside, Seth drops off the crate full of canned goods, topping it off by reaching into the pocket of his coat and tossing a manual can opener onto the top of the cans.

"What, did some kid barf, piss, and shit all over you at the same time or something? They do that sometimes. Or did this go beyond that horror?"

The enforcer smirks, "Because if that is the worst you have seen, then I can offer up some other imagery."

"I'm a bachelor, an only child, and I avoid the hell out of kids. Yes, actually, that's pretty much what happened." Ravn shudders as he adds Seth's donation to the table of things Mrs Jankowski seems to have taken it upon herself to guard and distribute. A small woman with a haunted face, she seems to command respect -- possibly because of that expression on her face that says I have seen a lot worse than barfing kids, don't ask. And of course, she has a tiny bit of shine.

"I guess we go commandeer the school bus while Miss Addington sorts through who's going to go and who gets what washed. I suspect she has Opinions on the issue." Ravn shakes his head and makes a rather fast attempt at escaping the building again -- preferably before anyone else has a complaint to file or an argument to break up, or any other thing that anyone with half a brain could take care of, but for some reason only someone actually affiliated with the HOPE centre gets asked about.

Seth smirks, laughing at Ravn and his reaction to the 'horror' he has witnessed. "Really? It oogies you out that much? Wow, someone grew up privileged," the enforcer teases the Dane as he follows him back outside. "I've seen worse. Trust me."

"So," Seth continues, looking around the parking lot, "Where is this bus I am supposed to know how to drive?"

"I'm guessing it's that one," Ravn murmurs and nods towards a yellow school bus that looks... a lot like a yellow school bus. "Unless somebody's going to tell me Atli Addington is sending over a new one, which I doubt."

He shakes his head and pulls his jacket up around his ears. "Now comes the real question -- are we going to break into the damn thing or not, because I sure as hell don't have the keys, nor the number to whoever's the high school's handyman. How are you with jumper cables? I grew up too privileged to be great at it but I can hot wire a car if I have to."

Glancing over at the schoolbus Seth arches a brow, "And why are we stealing this again? Doesn't anyone have the key? I'm still not sure how I got stuck doing laundry for a bunch of kids, and have to steal a bus on top of that. Sounds like I am just getting pranked here, Darth. Did you put her up to this?"

"I wish, it'd almost be worth it." Ravn shakes his head. "No, that's just the Addington way. And I say that as someone who's giving serious thought to getting involved with one of them -- although at least mine takes 'no' for an answer."

He glances back at the gymnasium and then at the torrential rain and strong winds. "I'm sure somebody has the key. I'm also sure they're not here -- and I haven't got a number for the school janitor. And besides -- it's been years since I stole a car." Ravn, you rebel, you.

Seth smirks, a little shake of his head. "Well, then let's go have some fun with it, but I warn you most of the time I steal a car they don't tend to come back in one piece." Laundry in hand the enforcer starts towards the bus, letting the rain pour down over him and not giving it much of a thought before he pauses, cocking his head to the side as he looks to Ravn, "Waaaaaiiiit a minute. Yours? Yours takes no for an answer? Last time we talked there was no 'Yours'. You best spill details man."

That being said, he starts back up towards the bus letting the laundry, and him, get soaked to the bone.

Soaked like bedraggled mobsters, the two of them. If they get a cold out of this, it's probably their due reward. Ravn looks a tad sheepish as he says, "Eh, I'm -- still catching up myself. But I think we are dating now. Or at least seeing each other on a regular basis. And waiting to see what happens from there? I'm not one to rush into things -- if anything, I'm one to rush away from things like this. I'm kind of running out of excuses, though -- and out of the wanting to offer up excuses. Being imperious does seem to come with the Addington gene set, though -- they've all got it, Atli, Erin, Hyacinth. And definitely Margaret whom I've never met, but she's pretty much the iron eminence in this town."

"Well, good for you," comments Seth as they make their way over to the bus. "Sounds like the start of something that could be good for both of you. But I agree, no need to rush."

Approaching the bus, the enforcer gives the door a once over, setting the basket of now soaked laundry down to the side. "I'll admit. I've never broken into a bus before. Not really sure how to get through a door like this. I'm used to normal car doors, not this...accordian type thing this has. Any ideas?"

"I figure that if we pick the lock we can pull the accordion open?" Ravn can't help laugh softly. "I'm going to get in so much trouble for this. I'm already looking forward to it. Bloody high school not giving us a list of numbers to call if necessary, what did they expect? You'd think this was the first big oceanic storm to hit town, and I know that's not true."

He dips into a jacket pocket -- one of the small, narrow ones on the sleeve, no doubt designed to hold a lighter or similar. Who's surprised that it holds a lock pick? Probably not anyone who's been stuck in a dream jail cell with this guy when he had only the spring of a BIC pen available. Some mistakes a man tries to not make twice. "So, if I can get this thing open -- you want the honours of trying to hotwire it, or shall I? I haven't done that since I was seventeen, I think."

It takes a bit of pilfering. The lock is not mechanical for one -- it's more a matter of disabling it than picking it per se. Who's going to foot the repair bill? The HOPE centre, maybe.

"I suppose that makes sense," Seth agrees as he takes a look at the lock and the door, moving aside to let Ravn handle it. "I mean, it isn't like these things were built with security in mind. People don't tend to go out of their way to steal a school bus."

As to the question of hotwiring the thing, Seth shrugs a shoulder, "I'll give it a go, sure. I was never that much of a car thief, but I think it should work."

Two guys slip into a school bus -- and with some haste at that, because the weather is taking 'awful' to new, not very attractive places. "I don't think we even have school buses like this in Denmark to steal," Ravn murmurs and looks around inside. The smell of old leather and lunch packs, socks and gym bags is not flattering. "I'm not sure I missed out."

He keeps an eye on the parking lot in the extremely unlikely case that somebody else might wander past in the beginnings of a hurricane, to spot the would-be laundrymen turned bus thieves. Unsurprisingly, no one does. A cigarette is lit; because smoking on the school bus is no doubt as illegal as smoking in the gym, and something about today just says 'break all the rules' -- or at least a few harmless ones.

Reaching under the dashboard of the bus, Seth fishes around for a moment before yanking a bunch of wires down into view. He retrieves his pocket knife from his jeans and flicks it open, slicing a couple of wires and exposing the copper within. He takes the two wires and brushes the tips together, grinning as the spark and the engine turns over, quickly twisting them together before losing the connection.

"Ok have bus, will travel. You want a go and driving this thing? I promise I won't say anything if you hit anything."

"Can't say I've got a license to drive a bus or a truck," Ravn murmurs. "Or that I've ever actually tried. Do you? I suppose if neither of us do we can draw lots? And bill Erin Addington when we crash the damn thing."

"Nope," Seth says with a grin. "I tend to drive smaller things lower to the ground. I've never tried a bus before. This should be interesting."

The enforcer slips into the driver seat and pulls the lever to close the little accordion door. "I would highly advise sitting down and holding onto something."

Ravn plops himself down on the front passenger seat and grabs hold of it. "Now let's hope the Veil doesn't feel like Speed: The Hurricane Edition. To the laundry shop, Hi Ho Silver!" He can't help laugh. Of all the things the folklorist never pictured himself writing home about, stealing a bus to do diaper laundry is up there in the top ten.

The weather, of course, is awful. Visibility is a joke -- and not a dry one, at that. The only nice to thing to say about driving in the early hours of a hurricane is that no one else seems to be enough of an idiot to do so, and the road is pretty clear. For now -- when the winds pick up, God only knows how many telephone poles, roofs, and trees are going to come down.

It's a bit rough going at first as Seth has to get used to the weight and length of the bus, but he picks it up with relative ease and doesn't manage to smash into anything, even in the worst of the weather. He goes slow, because that is about the only speed the bus has, and within a few minutes he is pulling the bus to a stop in front of the all-night laundromat. Hopefully, it is open and people weren't actually smart enough to close the place down and board it up for the storm. "I can't see through the windows. Is that place even open? What do you see, Darth?"

Ravn squints to make out anything through the driving rain on the window panes. "It looks closed. Didn't she say she'd call them in advance? Or did I get that wrong?"

Beat. "Do we break into a laundromat to wash friggin' diapers? I'm thinking we might be crossing a line between prank and, well, an actual felony somewhere around there."

Frowning, Seth looks past the rain covered windows of the bus to the front of the laundromat, "Well let us look at this. We are in a stolen school bus, with a bunch of soaking wet clothes from a shelter than has god knows what various bodily fluids on them. We are breaking in just to do laundry, so we are not actually going to steal anything and are still going to pay for the use of the machines. We also know pretty much any of the cops that would come and bust us, and I think de la Vega would shoot someone if they bother to arrest us for doing laundry of all things. I think we at most we would get a stern-looking at, but that is about it. I say we go for it. Besides, these diapers stink man."

"... Hell, worst case scenario we give de la Vega a decade's worth of ammunition for blackmailing us for tequilas. Let's do it." Ravn laughs. "Place like this has a proper lock out in front and some window with a simple latch somewhere on the back. Since normal people can't reach through window glass to lift a latch, breaking and entering is easy as cake for someone who can in fact do that. I'll open the door for you in a second."

He dives out into the rain and out into the alley way that leads to the back of the building with all of its bright and garish watermelon paint job, running because brr, Storm Cimaron isn't even properly here yet and it's already bloody wet and cold and awful. Somebody needs to tell tropical storms to use hot water, please.

"Just get the door open," comments Seth as he starts to gather up the foul-smelling laundry into the baskets, trying his best not to breathe, and when he does have to breathe he breaths in through his mouth. "The sooner I can get this away from my face the better."

The enforcer gathers up the laundry and makes his way outside into the rain, following Ravn. "Someone owes me for this."

It doesn't take someone who used to do this sort of thing for shit and giggles on a regular basis long to identify that window that's easy to get into -- after using a bit of moving to get the latch to slip off its hook. Look, officer, no property damage.

Ravn slips through the building without turning on the lights -- no need to actively try to flag down a passing patrol car -- and unlocks the front door from the inside. "There we go. Let's get this done -- and then we really should swing by your place too. Hyacinth told me to get those carousel gem eyes for her -- apparently she and some other people managed to appease the ghosts, something something, out of your hair."

"Thank god," Seth replies with a sigh as he walks through the front door and makes a bee-line for the nearest large washer. He doesn't bother with separating anything and just unloads the basket into the first washer, and then repeats the process with the next when the first one fills, and so on. He meanders over to the coin-operated machine that dispenses soap and sighs, "The sooner I get those damn things out of my place the better. I haven't had any other freaked out dreams, but one was plenty. Uh...you have any change?"

"Yeah, I do." Ravn dips into a pocket and empties out assorted coinage. "I kind of figured the high school cafeteria would have vending machines so in case of losing power so long the food in the freezers spoil..." Yes, he's got quarters. Lots of quarters. Probably have more back there, too.

"I appreciate you still doing it, Seth. Hiding the damn things, I mean. Nothing like that is ever a joke in this fucked up town, no matter how much it's just blobs of coloured plastic." He shudders. "That damn manticore tried to kill someone. Who the hell puts a manticore on a carousel anyhow? What happened to common sense and fluffy kittens and ponies?"

It was the peacock that came to scream at me. I never hated them before, but peacocks are now on my shit list." Seth says as he takes the quarters from Ravn and starts to plug them into the machine, getting a couple of things of detergent for the washers. He dumps the soap into the washer and starts them up, moving to sit atop of the other unused ones. "Freaked me the hell out, and I don't freak out easy. That being said, I'd do it again. You needed the help, and I could help. For everything I do, I at least try and get some of the red out of my ledger sometimes."

"The peacock's not part of the carousel. There's something screwy going on with that bird but he's an independent agent." Ravn nods in the definitely not crazy fashion of someone who just argued that a large, colourful bird with a brain the size of a pea is in fact an agent of some sinister, unnamed evil. Then he nods again and watches Seth feed the machine. "I get that. Sort of. I don't get it at all, I suppose, but I get the feeling of needing to -- make up for something? Make a few things better, rather than just making everything worse. My family made a lot of money on fun things like the slave trade, for instance."

Seth shrugs a shoulder. "I don't expect you to 'get it' really. Vic does. I think you have to be in the business to actually get it, so it is probably a good thing that you don't. At least recently any work I have been doing has been against other 'bad guys', so I don't feel so horrible. I should put on a damn mask and cape, just go all out, vigilante."

"As far as the fuckin' bird is concerned, if he is an agent of evil then I don't feel so bad blinding the thing. Should we really be giving them back their eyes?"

"No, I don't think I 'get it', not the way you mean. But as long as I'm getting the story from girls who'd been sold down the river by assholes, my lips are sealed." The washing machine starts to rumble. Ravn settles on one of the garish plastic chairs, throws a stolen glance about -- and lights a cigarette. He's already broken in -- let's add illegal smoking to the rap sheet. It's not like you can smoke outdoors in this rain. "I'm not sure what the peacock is. Maybe he's just a feathered, avian asshole. We're in Gray Harbor, though, so odds are in favour that he's secretly a Lovecraftian horror biding his time while waiting for us all to ripen like walnuts with feet, or something."

He blows a smoke ring. "I honestly don't know about the eyes, Seth. There's a part of me that votes in favour of just sabotaging anything Veil creatures do, because whatever it is, it's probably bad news for us. But Hyacinth seemed pretty sure that it would be the right thing to do -- and she's as deep into this Baxter-Addington feud mystery as you can get. When old Margaret Addington kicks the bucket, Hyacinth is designated next crazy woman ruling the town with an iron fist and shoving dead Baxters into haunted wood chippers -- if there's anyone who's got the motivation to put an end to this mess, it's her. Her, and any Baxters destined for that wood chipper."

Seth shrugs his shoulder, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. "Maybe. I mean you know more about that shit than I ever will or want to, know. When it comes to things like those eyes I take my cues from you, and if you are taking your cues from someone else that knows more about it than you who am I to question it. I'll just be glad to have those damned things out of my basement, and my life."

The enforcer smirks slightly and says teasingly, "Setting yourself up to be the right hand to the queen huh? Good job if you can get it."

Ravn blinks. Then he looks up at Seth. "Hell, I left Denmark to get away from a position of that nature. I like Hyacinth, a lot. Her position as leading lady to be in society though? I like her in spite of that. You know me: All I want out of life is a cat, a boat, and a pile of books. Definitely nothing that makes me feel contractually obliged to wear a bloody tie."

Seth grins, "I know, which is why I like to tease you about it. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

The enforcer yawns and leans back against the washer, kicking out to lay across three of them. "I doubt that is going to stop, either. So might as well get used to it, Darth."

"Oh, I know. Some guys wear a target on their back for that sort of thing, I'm one of them. Ask Mac sometime -- no one loves riling me up more than Miss Green Hair does." Ravn laughs softly. "I don't mind. I don't always get it right away, but I don't mind. And I suppose that if Hyacinth and I do get around to getting serious at some point, then I probably will have to get used to wearing a tie again. But until then?"

A gloved hand goes up, middle finger first. "Anarchy in the US, baby."

Seth laughs, "I don't wear a tie. A suit, sure, but never a tie. A tie can be used as a great leverage point or to choke you out in a fight. If I ever HAD to wear one, it would be one of those clip-on types, so if someone tried to pull it, it would just pop off. If you ever get serious, I will pay you cash money to show up at a formal function wearing one of those tuxedo t-shirts."

"Tuxedo ... t-shirts." You may never realise what seeds you have planted, Seth Monaghan. But if this comes to be, Hyacinth Addington may never forgive you. Or maybe she will. Ravn strokes his chin, three days' worth of stubble and all, and gives this very serious consideration.

Then he shakes his head. "Everything in its time, I suppose. You know how this town is. Probably be a year before we get around to going on an actual date. Always some emergency that needs to be dealt with, somebody who needs to be rescued, some research that needs to be done. Gray Harbor clearly maintains its population of eighteen thousand by drawing in hapless sods like us because it sure as hell doesn't give us much time to work on doing stuff the natural way."

"Cash. Money." Seth reiterates. "Crisp $100 bills. One for each sigh or scream that emanates from her lips."

The enforcer grins, "You can always put the heat on me if it becomes unbearable."

Ravn has to laugh out loud. "For fuck's sake, Seth. You can't bribe me, I don't need money. Now tell me I can piss off the Veil and I'll be ordering five of those shirts off the nearest Amazon outlet before you can say 'antidisestablishmentarianism' -- or think about why exactly you're in opposition to the dismantling of the Church of England."

"Right, right...rich asshole just running away from his responsibilities. I forget." laughs Seth, shaking his head. "Still, offer is still on the table...just because it would be hilarious...and the only thing I know about the Church of England is tea and cake or death, so as long they don't run out of cake or I can have the chicken I have no interest in dismantling it"

"That's me." Ravn glances at the machine. Still doing its thing. "So once we're done here we swing past your place, pick up some plastic eyes, and head back to the high school, hopefully before anyone actually notices that this bus was gone. When the storm's over and someone asks what happened to its dashboard, we shrug our shoulders, smile, and go 'kids, right?' at them. And next time some society lady wants diapers washed, we tell her where the bus is and where the laundromat is, and make popcorn. Sound about right?"

"Close enough to right," agrees Seth as he slides his feet to the floor and starts to pace around the laundromat. "Either that or I 'accidentally' slip and stumble, spilling a pile messy diapers all over them....and then eat popcorn."

"Unless there is anything else you have always wanted to do with a stolen bus. Now's the time..."

"This week I've decided I want a motorcycle and I want a girlfriend. Got any other suggestions for my early-onset midlife crisis, now's the time to bring 'em to the table." Ravn lights another cigarette; might as well get ahead on smoking since he can't back at the shelter. "At least I'm not at the point where I said yes to an offer of a quick rough-and-tumble behind the high school gym. Let's see... We could hit the local pizza parlor, see if anyone's working. Pizza places are crazy enough they might force their minimum wage employees to come in no matter what, since half this town is going to sit at home and assume that obviously, delivery services still work in a hurricane."

"Wait, what is this about a rough-and-tumble? Hya offered you what behind the school? How gentlemanly of you to refuse..." Seth says with a laugh, "I didn't think she was the type."

At the mention of pizza, Seth's stomach growls and he looks down at it, "Damn it...you said the word."

Ravn blinks owlishly. "No -- uh, that was someone else. She was just bored. Pretty sure Hyacinth isn't that type. Also? Not even gone on a date yet, bit early to suggest making out in public like high schoolers."

Is he actually colouring a bit? Why, yes, he is. Awkward foreigner is awkward. The Dane leaps for the excuse that Seth is offering with much enthusiasm. "I could definitely go for a calzone. Let's do this."

Seeing Ravn blush causes Seth to grin and let out a little laugh, "Oh? Someone else offered herself up to you for a quickie behind the gym? How scandalous! Was it one of Hya's sisters? That one that saddled us with the laundry perhaps? No wonder I got put on shitty diaper duty with you..."

Seth looks at the washing machines going and shrugs, "Do we just leave this here then and come back for it, or wait for it to be done before we leave?"

"... Let's go get pizzas while they finish washing. This is going places I'm not old enough for, and besides, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. Or, well, not kiss and tell. Pretty sure Atli Addington might hire you to deal with you if you perpetuate that rumour." Ravn gets up and pulls his coat up around his ears in preparation for braving the storm. "And if the pizza place is closed we try the thai place. And if that is closed, at least we've had something to do with our damn time."

Seth shrugs a shoulder, "Fine...fine. You win this round, Darth." Seth says as he pulls up his own jacket collar. "But if we don't find some food out there wandering around in the cold and rain, I make no promises I will not resort to cannibalism to state my hunger. Lead the way."