[log] bacon pancakes that's what we're gonna make [closedish]

[phaseshifter]

Characters: Angel, Rhys, Beckett, Brian and Jade (I think? If anyone else is around hop in nerds)
Location: The hotel downtown
Date: Day 134, midday-ish onwards
Summary: PANCAKES (byob)
Warnings: Nnnnone? Will add if necessary! BARFCHAT?? lmao cries



post your starters nerds you know the drill

building description for reference:

162: A hotel--the Norfinbury Inn. By hotel standards, it's not especially large, but it's the largest building in the downtown area. The lobby is mostly empty and seems a bit old-fashioned in design, with what appear to be wooden floors and fairly plain walls. There are a few cozy areas where people can sit, and a fireplace in the center that, while it has no wood, is in perfect working order. The front desk has nothing of note except for all the keycards to the various rooms of the hotel. It looks like there are a total of twenty rooms. There is no elevator--looks like you'll have to use the stairs the old-fashioned way.

There is a small dining room area, although there are no tables or chairs to be found. The room echoes uncomfortably due to its emptiness. It connects to a small industrial kitchen, although there is no longer any food or appliances to be found. It seems like the ovens and stoves were cut out of their places. The sinks still work, at least. There is also a door that unlocks with a management keycard that can be found in the lobby that leads downstairs.

The basement is very simple. It's colder down here than in the rest of the building, and utilitarian in style. There's a small break room, a laundry room that no longer has any of its machinery but does have large rolling baskets for moving clothes in bulk (that refuse to leave the hotel, unfortunately) and some cleaning carts devoid of cleaning supplies (that are just as stubborn as the clothes baskets). There's a small room with space for what must have once been a furnace--and an actual very old-fashioned incinerator. It's not on, of course, but if a fire were started manually, it would still function. There's nothing inside it.

The first floor of the hotel contains rooms 101 to 110. There are five single rooms and five double rooms. All of the plumbing works, though the water runs cold. The second floor, containing rooms 201 to 210, is identical to the first floor, except for one door that has no key. It's unlocked--going inside reveals an empty room covered in pictures of an eye, drawn in black paint.

Comments

ota

[phaseshifter]

[ Pancakequest hasn't been easy, but it's finally here. Angel has pancake mix. And Rhys' frying pan. And a little fire in the incinerator, thanks to some rubbishy pieces of wood/pages from a sketchbook/deodorant/a willingness to scrape wet metal against her headports to create sparks.

Pancakes, man. They're so freaking worth it.

She can be found in the basement throughout the afternoon, keeping careful watch over the crappy little fire and whipping up pancakes and/or bacon for anyone who wants them. She's doing pretty well at it, too, despite missing fingers and a lack of sleep. Huzzah. ]

[bookofnope]

[In all of Norfinbury's vast frozen wastes there is not a soul more in need of some goddamn pancakes than Beckett of the Mnemosyne.

He'd come in relatively early in the day along with Brian and Jade, and the first order of business had been the joy of reunion with Angel and Rhys. This involved hugs. Possibly in public. Sometimes Beckett is very done with affected dignity, and recently he'd just not had the strength for it. He's alarmingly thin, still coughing (though not sneezing as much YOU'RE WELCOME RHYS) and it is generally obvious that he hasn't had a chance to really recover since last they met and good god somebody feed the poor guy already.

As soon as Angel gets down to business, he joins her, sits and watches the pancakecraft with great interest. Great, hungry interest. A hungry vampire is a very unsettling thing to be around. Except, you know, pancakes.]

And you're going to put the ice cream inside them?

[New horizons, man.]

[phaseshifter]

Kinda. I'm thinking that'll be the easiest way to eat them without making a mess? The little spoon things we've saved from the ice cream cups are kinda tiny.

[ Makeshift utensils are a pain in the ass. Case in point: having to use Rhys' butter knife to carefully flip over the pancakes while the noodle himself is busy pigging out.

Her life for a spatula. ]

So if we fold them in half, they'll be kinda like... ice cream tacos? You don't know what a taco is, do you. Anyway, uh, choose your ice cream flavour!

[bookofnope]

Tacos. Yes. I'm not that out of touch with developments in the noble field of creating fatter humans.

[Now he is wondering what tacos taste like, though only for a moment. Why wonder about what you can't have when there is something you can have right there, smelling like what heaven very possibly smells like?]

Is there really a very substantial difference between degrees of chocolate? Now I'm building up expectations.

[phaseshifter]

You don't get to snoot about fatty human food when you're debating the merits of chocolate ice cream flavours, friend. Um, I believe death by chocolate is the most extreme? I think I remember Rhys saying something about choco-fudge chunks before he started weeping.

[ is she joking

PROBABLY NOT

Either way, a hot pancake is getting carefully turned out onto a rubbish makeshift cardboard plate. If it could wink at Beckett it probably would, let's be real. ]

OPEN

[headjacked]

a; angst free pancakefest

[ Rhys is in charge of flipping, and only flipping, since it's a bit difficult to do complex baconpancakework with only one arm. He's also guarding Dumpy's duffle bag, which is currently Dumpyless. The bag has been stuffed with a rainbow of ice cream flavors. ]

You need to try 'em with a scoop of ice cream. Vanilla? Chocolate? Mint? Strawberry? Pick your poison, I have 'em all.

[ Grin! Dumpy zooms by, a pancake on what passes for his head. ]

b; turbo repressed angst

[ The day drags by and Rhys is able to keep himself occupied, fed, and cheerful despite a certain unmentioned tragedy. Despite the aches and pains that have been worsening steadily.

He has to excuse himself when it gets unbearable, trembling a little and hoisting his bag over his shoulder. It nearly bowls him over.

Predictably, Rhys doesn't make it very far. He collides with one of the oversized clothing carts and falls right in. Well. This is fine. He can just whine in here, and nobody has to see a thing. ]

b ofc

[phaseshifter]

[ Angel has failed to notice any signs of pain that Rhys has been displaying up to now, what with. You know. Stuff. It's hard to miss the whole falling-into-a-freaking-cart thing, though, and she immediately scuttles over to investigate.

Meaning yeah. Rhys gets Angel peering over the side of the cart in a mixture of concern and judginess. ]

There are beds upstairs, you know. You don't have to nap in the baskets.

you poor sod

[headjacked]

[ Angel, oh Angel. Maybe you just should've left him, because he is a mess. A literal mess. He couldn't hold the stress/pain vom down this time. At the very least, he hasn't face planted into it.

Still. Yeugh. ]

I think if I move I'll puke again.

[phaseshifter]

Oh, ew.

[ Sometimes being used to seeing REALLY GROSS STUFF pays off. Thanks, Hyperion satellite system. Thanks, vault hunters. Angel owes her iron stomach to you.

She's still not getting too close, though, because really. Ew. ]

Could you manage to move into another cart if I wheeled one over? So you can change into your bathrobe and we can just. Soak the evil out of your clothes. Ew.

[headjacked]

I, uh. I can try, but I make no guarantees.

[ He's doing a good job at sounding normal...ish, but when he turns to face Angel, half his face is tear streaked. The other half... still has a googly eye stuck on his patch. It'd be kind of funny if it weren't so pathetic. ]

ITT VICODIN ADVENTURES

[bookofnope]

[Don't look now, Norfinbury, it is just past midnight and small miracles are happening. By the fire, curled up like a cat, there lies a happy sadpire.

Granted, happy is a bit of a stretch. But for the first time in the rollercoaster of disasters that have been his newly mortal life in the town, Beckett finds that he has nothing immediate to complain about. First there was the strange pleasure of having almost everyone in Norfinbury he might count into his coterie - such as it is - in one place, and safe. Then the fire itself, the warmth. Then he'd eaten a borderline obscene amount of real, hot food, and proceeded to sleep like the dead on it. And things could've gone wrong there - the usual episode of waking up from a wrenching nightmare, and into a horrible spell of coughing that nearly made him throw up. And he could just about cry at the thought of doing that again, if Angel and Rhys had not done the frankly heroic deed of getting him to take some of their precious precious vicodin.

It worked. Oh how it worked. Now he lies there, staring at nothing in particular, floating on an alien feeling - comfort. For the first time in weeks, he isn't cold or hungry, his much-abused lungs aren't hurting, he has no day-long urgent treks in the snow to worry about. He can't think three sensible words in a row, but that's all right - he has nothing to think about. Thinking leads him nowhere except in spirals around the void. He's not doing that. He's resting. Healing, maybe - not very likely, but, maybe.

He's also loopy enough to reach out to Dumpy when the screambot flies past, a perfectly friendly gesture. Hello, Dumpy. You can scream at him. He's okay with it. He's okay with everything.]

[phaseshifter]

[ Half. A. Pill. Half a freaking pill. When Angel returns from Laundryquest bearing Rhys' wet clothes, she distinctly remembers that she'd suggested that dose for a reason. The reason being that unlike Rhys, Beckett isn't a wuss with an empty stomach. So half a pill should have been fine! No side-effects, no loopiness, just pain relief.

Except he looks like there is some distinct loopiness going on.

How strong are those dumb pills, even. ]

Um, Beckett? How... how are you doing.

[bookofnope]

Perfect, thank you.

[He is so loopy. But it isn't bad. When in the last two weeks has coherence done him any favours? He smiles up at her. Half a freaking pill is a lot when your system is on the verge of crashing. Take that, system crash.]

This is better than drunk. Yes. I don't have to put up with Enoch messing with the historical record. He doesn't understand archaeology.

[phaseshifter]

[ Sweet space jesus. WHY THIS. WHY ANYTHING. ]

Um, I - right. Shame on him.

[ She is going to flush every goshdarn trace of vicodin down the nearest toilet the next chance she gets. For now, she settles for laying out Rhys' clothes near the incinerator to dry before sitting beside Beckett to re-bandage her hand.

And, like, make sure he doesn't fall over or start trying to chew through walls or do whatever it is that looped-up people do. SIIIIIIIIIIGH. ]

[bookofnope]

Shame on him, [Beckett heartily concurs, though it doesn't look like he is going to fall over or chew through walls, because that would require getting up. And that, that is not happening.]

And there was the morning after - this is not going to have a morning after, is it? I'll risk it. I haven't coughed in a whole hour. This is magic -

[ - her hand. Even through the happy haze, he sees it. It is a definite kick in that happy haze. A sudden sobering.]

... you should be taking the pain medication, not me.

[headjacked]

[ Dumpy screams a delighted scream and bops against Beckett's hand. Attenton!

His owner rolls over, lost in his own drug fueled stupor. The second half of his pill went down a short while ago. ]

Awwww, he loves you.

[bookofnope]

[All of Dumpy's screams sound the same to be quite honest. But Beckett nonetheless bops back.]

The screaming grows on you. Somehow. Like mould. God, I have mould. [He makes a face, then glances up in evident apology.] I don't hate you, Dumpy.

[headjacked]

If you hated Dumpy we... we couldn't be friends anymore.

[ Tiny Screambot nestles by Beckett's side. Rhys quietly watches for a moment or two, before -- ]

Beck-Beckett? Do you remember the dreams we had?

[0thingsonmymind]

*He's....just going to stare. Beckett is acting weird and he doesn't understand why. Is it bad? Strange things are usually dangerous.
After watching for a few moments he clears his throat, announcing his presence.*

[bookofnope]

[Mostly asleep, Beckett's response is limited to tilting his head up a little, looking at Brian through half-lidded eyes. Then he smiles faintly, and moves one hand in a vague gesture of invitation.]

It's fine - it's warm - I'm sorry, they gave me one of those pills, I'm not sure I'm awake right now. Am I awake...?

[Drugs on one side, Brian on the other. This is going to be interesting.]

[0thingsonmymind]

*He nods to the question then cants his head. Pills? He didn't know they had pills (the vicogate spoils are forgotten for the moment). What sort of pills would do this anyway?*

[0thingsonmymind]

*He doesn't remember pancakes. He knows they're a food, but he can't remember ever eating one. But he doesn't really remember most foods. Before coming to Norfinbury food was just whatever he could grab and eat quick enough not to put himself in danger. Here it was much the same, but the food variety was much less so he's come to remember certain things as 'food.'

Not pancakes, though. Nor bacon. He can't even pinpoint the smell of either as 'good.' Its just another thing he doesn't remember and doesn't really care about.

But it was food and food was important. He'd come to understand that more here, where it was often much harder to find. And hot food? That almost never happened, so he'd snatched up some pancakes and some bacon and retreated to a corner of whatever room it was all being cooked in. Next to his stuff, just in case he needed something. (Like his tablet...or a weapon.)

After a few moments of warily watching anyone else in the room he pulls his mask up. Just enough to reveal is mouth and the short but poorly cut beard that was trying to grow in. Just enough to try a bit of pancake.





It was the best thing he'd ever eaten. Better even than the rolls from the grocery store here. He's taken aback for several moments before proceeding to shove the rest of the pancakes into his mouth faster than is strictly safe.*

[phaseshifter]

[ Angel isn't quite sure how to deal with Brian. It isn't that she's scared of him, or anything - yeah, he's weird, but who isn't? He's just very... different. Certainly compared to the masked bandits of Pandora.

There's less screaming, for a start. And fewer noises in general. Also he hasn't killed anyone yet.

She resists the urge to covertly keep watch on him - it would be rude, after all, and he is Beckett's friend - but does glance in his direction and offer a smile now and then. It's hard to tell if that's appreciated, what with the whole face situation, but whatever. She's trying to be nice without getting all up in his business, and hopefully the sentiment makes it across. Hopefully.

When she looks up to see him shovelling pancakes into his face, though, she has to say something. For safety purposes. Because oh god. ]

Hey, um - perhaps slow down a little? You wouldn't want to choke.

[ And she wouldn't want to have to explain to Beckett that his buddy choked to death because of an errant pancake. Imagine. ]

[0thingsonmymind]

*He snaps out of the shoveling of food into his mouth when Angel speaks and snaps his head up to look at her. Or in her general direction, at least. He also frowns slightly and pulls his food closer to himself, hunching over it.

This is his. You can't have it.*

[phaseshifter]

Um.

[ Well. The body language is clear enough, at least. Alright, keeping her distance. Looking as un-food-stealy as possible. That's a thing. ]

I was just - if you eat too quickly, you might hurt yourself. Or get hiccups. I didn't mean I wanted you to save it for me or anything, I mean - you know there's more pancake mix, right?