ArchivedLogs:Duck Sauce

Duck Sauce
Dramatis Personae Corey, Doug	2014-01-15 In which Corey is oblivious.
Location <NYC> Baohaus - Chinatown
Despite its unlikely name, this restaurant dishes up some of the best hot pot in Chinatown. A great place to go with friends, come pick a broth, pick ingredients, and enjoy the Chinese version of fondue, cooking meals yourself in the steaming soup. And, of course, don't miss the signature buns the place is named for! The middle of the week isn't exactly a busy time normally, but for a place as popular as Baohus it is always fairly well stacked with people. The chatter is pleasant and filled with the laughter of friends dipping foodstuffs into the various broths, and the occassional sounds of people blowing on their food to cool it down, or sucking in air to compensate for the lack of doing so before shoving it in ones mouth. In fact there is only one table that has but a single person at it, though he seems to occupy more space than most of the other natives. Sitting at the table and waiting for his friend, Corey is dressed with the out of season weather New York is experiencing. A grey wool coat hangs from the back of his chair, while he wears a long sleeved grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans. He has a stack of slightly crumpled note cards in front of him, with his lips moving as he mouths the text in hopes of remembering it, while his cellphone sits in front of him on top of the stack of menus. He waves off the waitress every now and then, but he does have a tea pot sitting at the table with a couple cups there, the cup in front of him half full of something steaming and green. Doug isn't /too/ late, given the uptick in traffic that accompanies the rise in air temperature. Still, he looks a little concerned as he pushes through the doors of the Baohaus. Also in jeans -- snug-fitting and new-looking --, the blonde is stripping off his dark blue pea coat to reveal an equally dark blue sweater, a white tee collar pushing up along the back of his neck. He speaks quietly to the hostess when she nears him, and she immediately veers to the couple entering right behind him. Which gives Doug time to scan the dining room and find his friend. Who is a /tiny/ bit hard to miss. As soon as he spots Corey, Doug is moving in that direction, touching the big man on the shoulder lightly as he arrives at the table. "You don't have to practice for me," he teases as he drops his coat over the back of his chair. Then his eyes widen. "Unless this is a trap, and you're about to try and sell me Amway." Blinking at the touch, Corey smiles as it was Doug instead of another waitress. There is however confusion on his face for the moment, until he finally processes the statement, glancing at his cards with a chuckle. "No no, I was trying to study up for a test. I never really had to memorize too much for my previous degree. When half the point of philosophy is to explain /Why/ you believe something, there wasn't too much you had to worry about for preciseness." He hands Doug one of the menus, sliding his phone into his pocket to not lose it. "So, I've been running my note cards when I have time. Though, I'm sure there are plenty of charitable organizations you could be donating to." Grinning at the statement, he starts thumbing through the menu himself. "I hope this is a good enough apology for the freakout. I didn't know if you had dietary restrictions, and well, the asian countries tend to be better at having options not heavily reliant on a pound of meat and cheese." "Oh, I understand that," Doug says, dropping into his chair and scooting it forward. "Between work and school, there's so much stuff I have to remember that it's a bit..." he waves his fingers at his temple, and grins. "If I didn't have a computer to keep it all straight, I'd be totally screwed." He takes the menu with a smile, crinkling his eyes at the older man. "If you need me to act as study buddy later, I'll totally help out." He chuckles as he opens the menu, and shakes his head. "You really don't have to apologize for anything," he says, raising his eyes to peer over the placard. "I get freaking out, and I finally managed to get your number, so it wasn't a complete wash." His tone suggests he might be teasing, but his smile is reserved as he reaches for the tea pot. "So, what looks good to you?" he asks, topping off Corey's cup before he pours his own. "Did you get home without further incident?" Nodding, Corey chuckles. "Well, at least I have the time to study for the most part. And how much do you know about anatomy and physiology? It's gotta be the most annoying thing in the world to memorize." Looking through the menu, he hrms, sliding a finger over a few options. "Well, a few bao options would be good, depending on if you want pork or some spicey things. But hot pot is good too, you can just order like a dozen things and dip them in, and then makes it into soup afterward." Tilting his head looking to Doug over the menu, he frowns slightly. "Yeah, I made it home fine. If it was just some jerk messing with me, it wasn't funny. But I think whatever it was was serious. It probably thinks I'm extra tasty." "I have time," Doug protests with a widening of his grin. "After midnight is technically a time." The question gets a wrinkle of the teenager's nose, and he lifts his shoulders. "I'm not that great at it. Probably my neighbor Micah is better for actual knowledge. But I can read note cards like a friggin' champ." He nods at the suggestions, and hums lightly. "Hot pot sounds good," he says, closing his menu and setting it to one side. Then he folds his arms in front of him on the table surface, and leans in, listening intently to Corey. "Yeah, it wasn't funny, if it was meant to be a joke," he says sympathetically, shaking his head. "But probably a better idea to take it seriously, these days." The postulation earns a sly sort of tilt to Doug's grin, and he lifts his eyebrows, looking off to one side. "Yeah, well, that's understandable." "Well yeah, I'd ask Micah normally, but," Corey lets out a sigh shaking his head, "he's been having a shitty enough time as it is. He doesn't need my asking for help when he needs to worry about his family, and the government." Setting his own menu aside, he takes a sip from his tea. "Either way, I've never heard anything like that before. Something just talking in my head? Kinda weird stuff, though I guess it probably would have been different if it wasn't quite so hostile." Doug echoes Corey's sigh, shaking his head. "Yeah, it's been kind of rough on everyone, I think. I haven't seen Shane in a few days, and I only see Sebastian at work...I hope that gets resolved soon, for everyone's sake." He shifts his weight, and looks deeply ruminative as he claims his own teacup, lifting it to his lips to blow gently across the surface. "Talking in your head?" he repeats, his brow knitting. "Like, actual words?" He purses his lips, and his jaw works for a moment. "Yeeeeah. That's not good. Telepaths are a bitch to be around even when they're /nice/. I can't imagine what a hostile one could do." He pauses, considering. "Well, I have an /idea/. I know a fairly grumpy one, actually." He sips his tea, watching Corey for a long moment. "You never met one before?" "I see Shane at work, so kinda inverted." Corey holds up a finger to pause the talk as a waiter appears this time and he puts in the order they had discussed. When they are back to not having someone hovering over him he continues "Yeah actual words. Creepy thing saying it wants my life force and all." He shudders and shakes his head. "I've never had one in my head. If I've met one, well, I mean, they didn't talk to me or anything. You can't just tell someone is by standing next to one." "Oh, yeah. I forgot you worked at Montague's." Doug leans back in his chair, setting his teacup down as the waiter is flagged down. His smile when Corey orders is small; a gentle curl at one corner. He nods at the waiter before he disappears, then frowns deeply at the revelation of what exactly was said. "Dude," he says, his eyes widening just a bit. "That isn't good. You should definitely keep on your toes." He nods firmly, and reaches for his teacup again. "Oh, if you'd had one in your head, you'd know," he says. "It's a definite experience." He thinks for a moment. "I could ask my friend if he could help you somehow, but he's going through a thing. And like I said, he's pretty grumpy on the best of days, so I'm on the fence." He frowns, then, sitting up straight as a thought occurs to him. "Um. You might want to maybe find another place to stay. If they were in there digging, they probably know your particulars." "Everybody is going through a thing right now. And it's alright, thanks for the offer though." Corey lets out a sigh as he settles into the chair to relax a bit more. "I've been keeping a look out, but I work in a coffee shop. There are plenty of random strangers, and you can't just hide away. It's only happened the once thus far, and only there." He runs a finger around the lip of the teacup thinking matters over. "If it happens again, might be able to figure out more. Like see if there is someone around the same time every time. At least if someone tries to jump me, well I'm not a small guy." He holds out his arm, flexing it a little in demonstration. "But yeah, it was freaky anyway. I think I'd much prefer it being a prank." "Well, just be careful," Doug says, his expression lifting only slightly as he sips his tea. "I mean, you don't want to screw around with something that's after your freaking /life-force/. You need that for staying alive." He blushes a bit at the flexing of muscle, his gaze appreciative as it lingers on the knot of bicep. He opens his mouth to say something, but language fails him, and he looks down at his teacup as the color in his ears deepens to a fiery red. "...not small," he says in a small voice, and then clears his throat, sitting up a bit straighter. "Yeah, hopefully it was a prank," he says in a rough-sounding voice before he clears his throat again. "But be careful anyway, okay?" "Well yeah, it kinda sounded pretty bad too in my head." Corey shakes his head with a frown. "I'd be more worried for others though, okay, I am more worried for others." Picking his cup back up for another sip, he makes a face then adds some sugar to it. "I at least am kinda... extra healthy. Its complicated," draining the rest of his tea he looks around hoping the food arrives sooner. "I will be careful though. I can always give Hanna a call and crash on her floor again. I had for a few weeks before." Doug smiles. "Well, worrying about other people is good, if you're wanting to be an EMT," he says, lifting a shoulder. "I wouldn't want some apathetic guy coming to hold me together if I was in an accident. Seems counter-intuitive." He watches the doctoring of the tea, and huffs a chuckle at Corey's explanation. "Yeah, you're a pretty healthy specimen," he agrees, faint pink blossoming in his ears again. "So extra-healthy can't be all that bad a thing, right?" He also looks around for the waiter, frowning in the direction of the kitchen. "Oh, hey, you don't have to take up Hanna's floor," he says, swinging his gaze back around to the other man. "I have a spare bedroom, and bed. You're welcome to crash there, instead." He offers an apologetic spread of hands. "There /are/ considerably less cupcakes at my place, though." "Don't know, some people would rather have a genius asshole, than a well compassionate dumbass." Corey chuckles at himself somewhat deprecatingly. "At least the genius knows exactly where the aorta connects to." Making a face and opening the lid of the teapot to glance in, he adds "and to order more tea when there's going to be more people. But yeah, extra healthy is fine, until something thinks you are a smorgasbord. And well, it kinda rubs off on other people. Better than a health spa." Raising a brow at the offer, he smiles. "That is generous of you, and well less of a worry for Hanna. I know that theres been a lot of crap going on with evictions and such, I don't know what Hanna and Jayna have planned for where to go." "Mmm," Doug says, sipping his tea. "I think I would prefer the compassionate dumbass. Maybe not for life-saving things, but for most other things." He's just going to ignore the color gathering in his ears, focusing on the tea pot. "That's what waiters are for," he says, and leans out into the aisle to intercept the first waiter going by. "Excuse me, but would you tell our waiter we'd like a fresh pot of tea?" He offers a smile as the man agrees, and comes back to the table to nod at the clarification. "That's...a great kind of thing to have," he says. "You must have the healthiest roommates in the world. You can /definitely/ crash at my place, if it's going to make me feel good." His eyebrows twitch, and there's the smallest crinkling at the corners of his eyes before he sobers at the mention of evictions. "Yeah, there's been a bunch. I don't know what anyone is planning, but eviction isn't exactly a speedy process. Hopefully they'll have time to figure it out." He frowns. "Your extra-healthy hopefully means that you're not allergic to cats." "Waiters are also useful for bringing us food, and those tasty little fried noodle things with the duck sauce." Corey nods wisely, stroking his chin. "And well, its just always on. I barely understand it, but it helps out at least." He does smile at Doug's excitement over his power though. "I'll remember it at least. I want to see if the thing comes back again first, like, I can't just live in fear you know? Job to do, studying to do, trying to live my life. Otherwise, it has stolen my life, just in a different way." At the talk of allergies, he does bust out laughing a bit, even bringing a tear to his eye as others in the restaurant look at them. Calming down, he still has a smile across his lips. "I have no allergies, perfect blood pressure, perfect cholesterol. Never even had a cavity." "Yeah, food /would/ be good," Doug agrees, looking in the direction of the kitchen. "I guess they're a little backed up or something." He shrugs at Corey's demurral, and his grin is easy and wide. "Well, the offer is always open," he says, sitting back in his chair. "If you need it. Any time of day." He reaches up to scratch at his neck, grimacing a bit as Corey states his healthiness' added benefits. "Dude. That's just...wrong." He looks more annoyed than he actually sounds, narrowing his eyes at the older man. "I mean, there's healthy and then there's just...rubbing it in." "It happens, they do a lot of take out too I think." Corey nods at the offer. "Its appreciated really, you're a good man." He grins at the annoyance of Doug and shakes his head. "I also exercise and eat right too. I sorta figured it was just the healthy living ya know? I mean, doctors don't think its weird, just they get annoyed at me. " Just in the nick of time, their food finally arrives to the rejoice of the peasants. "Ahh, and now to stuff my face and not gain a pound. Just as the good lord intended." "Mmm. Their stuff is better than my local place, but the local place is...well, local," Doug says. "I imagine that there are plenty of New Yorkers who aren't as loyal to their local shops, though." He wrinkles his nose, and grins at the slowly-gathering crowd. "Also, I think this place is big with tourists, so there's that going for it." He furrows his brow. "Hey, I work out," he says. "I just don't have the benefit of some crazy metabolism thing. I have to work to look this good." He runs a hand along his torso in demonstration. He laughs at the statement about doctors, and shakes his head. "Seems to me they'd be happy with you. Less work for them, and all." He falls silent as the food arrives, watching as it's placed in front of them. Corey's statement gets a wry look from the teenager that's flat around the edges. "Dude. You are the /worst/ date."