ArchivedLogs:Housemates are Good for Something

Housemates are Good for Something
Dramatis Personae Pedro, Killian, Anette
In Absentia	2015-11-28 "He saw me walk out of your room wearing a sheet. Yeah, he knows."
Location <BOM> The Spatters - Ascension Island
A comfortable three-bedroom cabin, sturdily built if inelegant. The front door opens up into a cozy sitting room with small bathroom; it is adjoined by a kitchenette with room for small table. The three bedrooms here -- two off the sitting room, one on the other side of the kitchen -- are not uniform in size nor layout, with the considerably smaller kitchen-adjacent room having its own screened-in porch. The day was still young, though it was closer to lunchtime than breakfast time, when Pedro's door opened. BRIGHT FUCKING LIGHT! Who left the kitchen blinds open? The batty mutant groaned loudly and fumbled about with the handle, and somehow managed to lower the blinds without ruining them. Letting out a huff of breath, Pedro moved towards the bathroom, rubbing at his face. {Hmmph. How much did I drink last night?}, he mutters in Spanish, shutting the door behind him. The sound of very attendant worshipping of the porcelain altar followed shortly afterwards. It is several long, long minutes before he staggers out. "Too much, is always the answer to that question, I think." The young mutant staggers back into his room... "Oh shit!". Between Pedro's stumbling, offerings to the porcelain god, and mumbling to himself, it's really no surprise that by the time he staggers back into his room, Anette has already woken up and stolen one of his sheets to wrap about her. "Don't tell me you forgot I was here...I was hoping I'd be a bit more memorable than that," she teases, standing up and using her fingers to comb her hair back away from her face. "Come on, some food will do you good. Nothing cures a hangover like bacon and toast," she says, walking over towards the door with a gentle tic of her head, indicating Pedro should follow her out. Although no door was heard to open, no window left ajar, somehow Killian is in their cabin again. With the best timing, clearly. Doggish claws click-click on the cabin's wooden floor from the main shared room, slowed and then gone as the black and white dog jumps up onto the couch. Circle once, twice, and the border collie collects itself in a comfortable ball in the middle of the couch- taking up more room than it should be able to, however dogs are able to do that. Brown eyes watch Pedro as he leaves his room, but it becomes shortly uninterested in the bat's apparent morning routine, laying white chin down onto white legs apparently planning on making itself quite comfortable. That is, until the bat utters such an exclamation and Anette's voice comes from within his room. Dog head lifts again, and by the time the pair might exit the room, curious eyes watch, head tilted notably at them both. Pedro is blushing very brightly when he follows Anette out of his room, in the midst of pulling on some boxers. "Nnno. I didn't forget." He totally did, definitely the vodka's fault. "And…that was my first time. It was very memorable." That said much more quietly. With extra blushing. "And I can't eat that. Just fruit, remember? Though. I might nibble some bacon. With my bananas." He heads towards the sink and pauses, glancing over at the couch. "Merde.", he says. Anette grins playfully. "If you think that was good, you should see me sober." She does glance back towards Pedro as he turns down good. "You're worse than Dusk and his blood thing. If you can handle vegetables, a bottle of..." Whatever she was going to suggest remains unsaid as she finally notices the dog. "Scheisse!" she hisses, instinctively tightening the sheet about her. "What the hell are you doing here?" she growls before glancing towards Pedro. "I'm...fuck. Just...let me get dressed." She quickly makes her way towards her Pedro, conveniently needing to cross the room and pass the dog on her way. She's only missing a few minutes before returning sans sheet and wearing a white bathrobe. At least this stays on by itself. Perked ears flick back to pin briefly at Pedro's curse, before attention shifts quickly to Anette at her's. Ears stay pinned now, head ducking at the question with a few furs raising as hackles start to prick at the threatening tones. Claws and toes curl over the edge of the couch as if ready to jump off of it. Killian remains particularly still as Anette passes, following her, only to look back at Pedro when she disappears into her room. As if all that wasn't awkward enough, the dog settles on the couch as if with no further plans to leave, his mouth opened just slightly in a doggish grin. When Anette reappears, that 'grin' vanishes, one ear swiveled towards her but apparently no intention yet to shift. Pedro nods to her, rubbing at his reddening cheeks. "I uh. Don't know if you quite like me enough for that to happen when you're sober. I can handle some veggies." The batty mutant watches Anette disappear into her room, noting that the dog's gaze follows her to her room, before turning its eyes on him. When Anette returns wearing a bathrobe, he gestures to Killian on the couch. "I /think/ he wants to talk to you in private. But I could be wrong. I can slip into my room." He turns and starts to move in that direction. "No, he's just being a pain in the ass," Anette grumbles as she makes her way back to the kitchen, once again crossing the room and passing Killian to do so. She reaches into the fridge and digs around before pulling out an almost empty bottle of vegetable juice and setting it on the counter. "Drink this. It'll help." She begins making a pot of coffee, turning to face Killian with a sigh. "If you're planning to stay for breakfast, I'm afraid I've run low on Alpo." The dog's form rises and falls gently as he sighs, his head shaking slowly too-humanly. He sits up, leaning back on the couch, paws drawn up to his chest like an awkward beg and suddenly fur dissolves into skin, legs elongate to lay over the edge of the couch with boots settling on the floor. Man is where dog was, reclined lazily into the couch. "I don't give a shit." Comes from the shapeshifter, not so much annoyed as particularly dismissive of the sentiment towards Pedro as he turns to leave. Killian's scars from the fight in the cabin have vanished, but there are very faint scars on the /other/ side of his face that look suspiciously like talon marks too. "Housemates are good for something, eh?" The sarcasm comes with the slight draw of his lips into a crooked smirk. Anette's accuracy evokes a soft suspicious chuckling, and a playing along with, "Alpo? Couldn't splurge on something a little tastier? That stuff is like cardboard." But his expression is darker than what his humor gives, drawing one foot up on the couch, an arm rested across his knee. Pedro pauses to look at Killian, and then to Anette. He shrugs and turns around, reaching for the vegetable juice. He slugs it all back before making a sour face and looking at the bottle. "What the crap was that? I think the fuzz on my tongue just grew a little." He chuckles the empty bottle into the garbage bin, and glances back to Killian. "What do you mean, housemates are good for something?" He blinks and looks to Anette. "He…knows?" Anette can't help but stare at Pedro. "Really? He saw me walk out of your room wearing a sheet. Yeah, he knows." She glances towards Killian with a raised brow and playful smirk, "Jealous?" She turns around as the coffee finishes brewing and grabs a mug, pouring herself coffee and promptly begins drinking it, black. "You missed it. I've recently declared myself single. Pedro and I were celebrating. And consider yourself lucky if I buy a name brand at all. I'm too broke for Kibbles'N'Bits." Killian rolls his eyes at the question, his smirk growing faintly broader. "You'd deny it?" Is asked of Pedro after Anette's response. But to her inquiry of him, he loses the smirk, graining some form of a mocked pained expression. "Of course I'm jealous that I didn't get any. Ain't gonna complain though if you made Pedro here a man." He's quiet as he considers her implications, a soft laugh-like sound given under his breath. "Declared because you know something, or it's time?" Neither way seems to carry judgement with it, though he seems to let go of the dog food issue. "No, I would not deny it.", the bat mumbles in response to Killian. His eyes widen slightly and the wonderful pink returns to his cheeks, and even spreads to his ears. "Yeah, I guess you heard that part too. "I can't complain either. I'd do that again in a heartbeat. Even if there's the risk of a stabby death. I think I might drink less vodka though." Pedro goes to the fridge, and pulls out a few apples. "Anyone want one?", he offers, holding up one while biting deeply into a second. "Declared as in I /don't/ know anything and I'm done being left behind so fuck it." Anette leans back against the counter and takes a sip from her coffee. Pedro's declaration of risking life and limb for her earns him a bright grin and a mischievous wink. "Glad I could make such an impression." She holds out her hand as Pedro offers apples around, turning back towards Killian again. "So what /are/ you here for besides congratulating Pedro?" "Probably. He doesn't do warnings well." Killian states for Pedro's sake. "No need for less vodka, unless you're replacing it with rum. That's the shit. Haven't had alcohol in way too fucking long. After all that zombie bullshit went down." The hand rested on his risen knee gestures vaguely, including the cabin in his meaning. Not that zombie bullshit is /done/, really. "You always make an impression, Anette." The chuckle is brighter this time, amused far more than he really should be. But it fades as he shrugs at the question more pointedly at him. "I can't come check to make sure you aren't dead? Or undead or whatever the fuck it is now. Or just to bring my pleasant self into your cabin and make everything just that much better." Pedro looks to Killian and gestures at the man, looking back at Anette. "He is right, you always do make an impression." The batty one slips an apple into Anette's hand. "Oh. Is there rum, Anette? Perhaps we could drink to the three of us, having survived the zombie disease." He waves an apple in Killian's direction, taking another bite from his. "Is there a part of you that enjoys fruit, Killian? And I am guessing you mean Daken, about the warning thing?" Taking a bite of the apple, Anette glances over towards Killian, taking the time to think while she chews. "Hmm, I was thinking a dog might brighten the cabin up a bit," she finally says, glancing towards Pedro with a chuckle. "Name a booze, I've got it. Second cabinet from the left. Though considering what occurred when two of us drank together, do we really want to risk the three of us drinking?" This is said with an amused smirk, glancing back and forth between the other two. "I'm just a guy." Killian replies to Pedro, "Like fruit sometimes, I guess. When I'm not half fucking zombie, the animals aren't really," he gestures at his head, making an annoyed, slightly grimaced face, "there. Don't want none though. The dog just got into the pantry again. Ain't gonna be hungry for awhile." About the booze, he shrugs again, "I'm gonna leave you two alone inna minute. After seeing /that/.." He finally rocks forwards to stand, lazy as if he'd woken up not too long ago himself, "I couldn't just get lost. You keep the rum, will hit you up for some later." Anette's thought gets a faint groan, the shifter shoving his hands in his pockets, "Imagine I could hold my liquor good enough for that shit not to happen." Pedro blinks at Anette, and simply bites into his apple again. "I uhm don't know what I would do in that situation. Alcohol would probably not help. The question is, would I really care at that point?" He shrugs, setting the third apple on the counter. "We do, however, need to have that party sometime. A wake in the name of those lost." He looks to Killian then. "Are you headed into the city? If you're looking for stuff, Chinatown might be your best bet. They've barricaded themselves in. And they kill anyone who speaks English. So while the sick can get in, make a mistake and off with your head." "Well then, let's test how well you hold your rum when it's just the two of us," Anette says, looking to Killian as she does. There's some humor in her voice but nowhere near the amount she's had the last few minutes. She might actually be serious. "A party would be good, for everyone on the island. Maybe once the disease is less...prominent." As Pedro begins bringing up where to get 'stuff', Anette falls oddly quiet, raising her mug to her lips to take a long drink of coffee, taking however long it requires for a different subject to present itself. Once she sets the mug down, she quickly stands up. "I really should get dressed and head out. Fresh air, clear my head." "Yea." Killian drawls, taking a couple of wandering steps with his blue eyes angled at his boots. An amused 'hmh' escapes him, "They ain't gonna see me even if I do go over there. 'Sides, I know that damn quarter of the city better than the lot of 'em. I'll be back with shit before you guys are done with round two. Or three," The whispered laugh turns into a brighter one at that, "Wherever the fuck the alcohol cut y'all off." Despite answering Pedro, the subject of Chinatown has Killian watching Anette instead. His smirk falters slightly, and he then turns away. "My room ain't locked." Is the reply to Anette's comment, but followed quickly enough by, "Don't forget to put your shit on the shopping list before I go." That, too, is amusing, but has him only shaking his head as he pulls the door open to leave.