Nexus. Blue's bar. Recipe sharing and pie.

[random_xtras]

Charis looks around as she leads the big man into Blue's. "Do you want to sit on the bar?" She points to the TF size counter. "Or under the plants?" She indicates a snug little seating area under a big plant stand. "And how much pie would you like?"

Comments

[random_xtras]

"Tyranid." The young half-breed grins toothily as the monster backs away from the table and heads over to the bar. "His name's Fred. Cute, huh?"

"Er...." Charis blinks at the image on the screen. "Hello. Excuse me."

"Man, you look like slag." Mornbein jumps off Fred as Charis heads into the kitchen. "Ain't that fraggin' Aoife looked ya up yet? I told the @#$@##$@ wench you were her kinda friend. I'ma slag her Fae $@#$#@$%."

And the mun stares at Mornbein and wonders what she's on.

[tigereyedrogue.livejournal.com]

"Hullo, Fred! He looks like a Volkswagen Warbeetle." Almost literally.

His smile wanes a bit. "Sorry, mate, I'm just dealing with a severe case of 'want to beat the crap out of several people I can't and snog several others I can't either.'" With Mornbein, it seems appropriate to be blunt.

He holds up both hands, eyes widening. "Oh, no, no, she showed up, it was cool, I just...I think I made a bad impression. If you see her, if anything, I should be giving you an apology gift to pass along."

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A long tongue sticks out from between teeth like small swords as the twenty-some foot monster gives a happy chitter and folds its scythes close to its body.

Mornbein scowls at him. "She's hard ta faze, bein' a clone Trooper. Frag... if you'd played things right you might'a got some fraggin' snoggin' in. For sure you'd'a had a good yakk fest."

Then she perks slightly at the thought of a possible fight. "I'll go a few rounds with ya, even let ya win, if ya want."

"Not in here," says a blue femme firmly as she walks past with several cubes of energon in hand.

[tigereyedrogue.livejournal.com]

"D'you mind if I borrow his likeness if Harvey and I ever get cornered? He's quite formidable-looking. What do you feed 'im? Besides opponents?"

He bites his full lower lip and shakes his head. "No, it was...I don't care that I missed out on snogging--well, I do, but that's trivia next to hurting a perfectly friendly young lady's feelings over a minor misunderstanding. I have to try and fix that."

He chuckles in response, doleful expression lightening. "You know, we're starting to pull together folks to take advantage of the anti-violence field Fight Club style someplace where nice 'bots are not trying to feed people. But no, this is specific someones, Mornbein, awesome as the idea of sparring you is. This is one of those Want To Kick Ass For Great Justice But It Would Just Screw Things Up Worse situations. You know those? I hate those."

He brings up his recipes to share with the restaurant. "By the way, I made you a Yule present."

[random_xtras]

"Go hard," says Mornbein, looking up at her pet again and grinning at him fondly. "'N so far 'is favorite's T Rex. Like I said, Aoife's hard ta faze, so don't beatcherself up."

Then she gives him a blank look. Kicking $#@$#@%$ FoR Great Justice screwing things up worse? Buh?

Fred yawns then. He has bad breath.

Charis fans it away and hides the slice of pie she's bringing out from it.

[tigereyedrogue.livejournal.com]

"T-Rex." Blink. "Om nom nom," he comments in a slightly cartoony voice, and then chuckles and shakes his head. "I couldn't even watch that, but it makes me want to come up with big dino-shaped FredSnax. Of course the bag would be the size of a sleep-sack."

He nods slowly about Aoife. "I shall have to send her an apology-feeshy, regardless."

Ah, apparently I should be more specific.

"OK. You ever run into someone who has done something horrible, and you just want to kick his butt up between his teeth, know everyone around him does too, and even suspect he might get a clue from it? But you can't, because he's got powerful friends or has power over your friends, or is part of the local nobility or something? It's like that."

Daimon chuckles. "Gah, dino-breath! Thanks, Miss. Um, the download's ready."

[random_xtras]

"Yup!" Mornbein snerks. "Though he'll eat anythin' organic that 'e kin fit down 'is pie hole. Wiped out some rainforest on Keshyyk the other day. 'N knowin' Aoife she'll figure out how ta keep it."

Then she arches one brow in a perfect Spock. "Uh. Nope. Never run inta that."

Charis is wincing in response to the smell, but she smiles at Daimon and offers him the plate, which holds a very sizable slice of a sizable deep dish apple pie. "I forgot to ask if you wanted some kind of cream on it."

"Wait wait." Mornbein blinks. "You said somethin' 'bout a present."

[tigereyedrogue.livejournal.com]

"I wonder if I could conjure pet snacks in that size." Possibly with mint and parsley.

He blinks. "Keep one of my random tigerfeeshy messengers? Geeze, I wonder if it would last like Harvey. But yeah, I'll put one together before I leave."

The reply and the eyebrow get her a grim smile. "I'm glad you never 'ad to deal with that then. It's not helping my holiday mood any."

He shrugs at the Bot, smiling. "'s all right, it smells lovely." He takes up his fork gamely enough. "Probably should head straight back to the gym after this, but it's worth it."

He nods. "Yup. New trick I learned. I made you a Bling."

[random_xtras]

"I"ll go frag 'em for ya!" :D :D :D "Uh... a whutnow?"

"That's all natural." The blue femme walks by again on her way to the taps. "Hey, do you want beer?"

Charis just smiles at Daimon shyly and then reaches for her wrist as she looks at the computer. "Will you show me where the recipes are?"

[tigereyedrogue.livejournal.com]

He laughs a bit more genuinely, her enthusiasm as infectious as ever. "Thanks--you know I'll have you on speed-dial if any of the bastards try and come here. Though...honestly if they do that, I have given serious thought to LOL-based warfare."

He nods cheerily, and pulls out a little black velvet jewelry box with a psychotic smiley-face on the lid. "Here you are. Remember that conversation we had about your problems with getting conventional tattoos, and the issues about jewelry and the like getting destroyed?"

He shakes his head at the offer of foamy golden goodness. "Maybe another time. Thanks."

"'old on, a moment, Holly. Um, everything in the three folders on the desktop is yours for loking through. It has a wireless modem."