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Post by Pyro on Nov 1, 2006 15:38:34 GMT
”Y’d better be” The mock-scowl returns as he kicks back, stretching out to commandeer the newly-vacant space atop the bed. ”I’m all… traumatized and stuff. And now you want to abandon me and all… well, I don’t think I could handle it.” It’s safe to joke like that again, of course, because it’s what he does, and probably the best sign that things are back to normal, because he’s no longer worrying about tempting fate or shutting off routes to help him escape reality, he’s just… his regular self, back at home in his own skin.
She’s gone before he reaches the end of that, and he waits for her to return, not exactly patiently but as near as he can get. Which means more staring at the ceiling, more clicking… all very boring and therefore very *normal*, which feels so damn good, far better than it ever should.
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Post by Rogue on Nov 1, 2006 15:55:09 GMT
Returning to her room, Rogue cant help but feel like her every move to be sneaky is overexagerrated, to a comical extent, really. Especally in going up the stairs. She's not trying to, which makes it all the more amusing.
By the time she's back in her room, she's stifling giggles, and slips in as quietly as she can, the little orb of fire still over one shoulder. She can't help it, now that she's in the safety of her room - albeit still not entirely safe, since those on the other sides of the walls could still hear, but it's safer than the hallway.
She moves over and tosses the phonebook onto the bed, followed by the phone. Still laughing. She flops onto the end of the bed, and grins over at him.
"Felt like I w's in one'a them spy movies...." she explains, though it doesn't really explain exactly why she was laughing about it, even to her. It was just irrationally funny. Finally collecting herself, she reaches over and grabs the phonebook, paging through it for a bit.
"'Kay, 'M done..." she pauses for a slight giggle, because apparently she's not totally done, then looks up at him. "Wha's the bes' place?"
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Post by Pyro on Nov 1, 2006 22:34:14 GMT
What he sees of Rogue’s entrance, when it stirs him from that weird state where you’re not asleep but hardly really awake, is all stagey, over-the-top cautious, which makes him grin and try to come up with something suitably offhand and witty to say… though she gets their first, and he laughs and does a little James Bond style sneaky thing, all finger guns and shifty eyes, until that dissolves into giggles and he re-arranges himself into something nearer sitting up, cross legged and facing her, viewing the phonebook upside down from opposite her and trying not to meet her eye because then the laughing starts again, even though it’s not all that funny, because it feels like this thing to do, above all feels just normal and natural, both of which are definitely good things right now (the fact that she’s doing it with a fireball hovering around is another matter… but whatever. At least that’s the *functional* sort of normal as far as her usual talents go).
< Wha’s the best place?
”Hmm…”
His attitude is one of serious concentration, which is sort of alien but at the same time completely natural, because pizza is a very important thing and as such worthy of the level of focus most people reserve for serious and academic stuff (if indeed it is a finite supply, then perhaps it’s no surprise John should have enough left over for these situations outside of that *normal* sphere), though the act of choosing is made as casual as possible, with a shrug and a half-point which nevertheless manages to sound authoritative, a declaration from the leading authority on matters pizza-related. ”That one. Open late, discreet delivery boy… plus they do the biggest pizza you have ever seen. Which brings us to the all important decision…” John sits back and regards her sidelong, as if her answer to this is some sort of hugely important measure of her worth as a human being… which in a way it sort of is. ”What pizza’re we having?”
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Post by Rogue on Nov 2, 2006 2:49:35 GMT
Once they've both finally settled down from the laughter - made harder by his complimentary playing around mock-sneakily - she absently pulls the fireball over towards her, and cupping it in her palm, almost - it's only hovering a little above it, 'cause she's still not sure if it's going to catch onto the fabric if it gets too close. She doesn't want to put it out just yet - she likes the feeling of it.
”Hmm…That one. Open late, discreet delivery boy… plus they do the biggest pizza you have ever seen. Which brings us to the all important decision…”[/color] She looks up at him from where her eyes had been on the page of the phone book where he was pointing, as he trails off. ”What pizza’re we having?”
Somehow, he makes the simple question seem like what she said was going to determine her fate, in some way. So the answer must be carefully calculated, pondered upon, and all that.
Except that she knows, sorta, what she's in the mood for. A name, nothing else, but somehow just the name, odd as it is, makes her crave the pizza even more, so it must be good.
"Um. Th'Meltdown? ...Whatev'r tha' is, I mean. Jus'...comes t'mind..." she says, giving an uncertian glance from him to the phonebook, then back up. "Y'know what it is?"
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Post by Pyro on Nov 2, 2006 3:25:21 GMT
… okay, that’s weird. Like she really is in his head (okay, duh, he’s in hers now, remember? But still…)
Once that initial she said what now? dies down it’s supplanted by a variation of the same. He looks at her sidelong -nah… no way… really? – before another wave of laughter rolls in. Oh lord. She has no idea what she’s letting herself in for… which could be interesting. One twisted part of his brain thinks it a fitting sort-of-revenge for everything she’s put him through tonight, and another just finds the idea of her facing that highly entertaining, because clichéd though it may seem the buzzword here is hot. Very, very hot. Tastebud-scorchingly so. Brilliant. He sort of mentally thanks psyche-John briefly before realizing how weird that is and tying himself in a knot trying to see how that works.
”Only the greatest pizza of all time” he grins as soon as the laughs have died down enough to let him slip words between them, since he reckons waiting for them to stop would be foolish and futile. ”Though you’ll want some chilli to dip the crusts in… it’s delicious but not very spicy. Needs that extra kick”
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Post by Rogue on Nov 2, 2006 3:43:11 GMT
”Only the greatest pizza of all time. Though you’ll want some chilli to dip the crusts in… it’s delicious but not very spicy. Needs that extra kick[/color]
The fact that he's lauging hysterically should be an indication that maybe she's going to regret that order, but, then, it could be just the simple fact that she knew what kind to say, since, judging from his words, it's his favorite. Definetly absorbed from him, then.
Hopefully she'll still like it once his personality fades out a little bit.
"Um, 'kay. Anythin' else w'should get, while w'at it? 'M buyin', but don' go crazy o'anythin'."
Paying is the least she can do for having made him feel all crappy and all that, even if he'd chosen to do that. She glances to the fire in her control, and absently nudges it, just because she can. She's going to miss that, once it's gone.
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Post by Pyro on Nov 14, 2006 4:26:36 GMT
... way to make him feel like a bastard, guilt-tripping her into treating him to pizza.
But whatever. He can cope with that, because he’s a bastard most of the time anyway, and pizza is pizza. And now he’s stopped feeling like death warmed up any sort of food would be more than welcome, his stomach twisting the way it does when it’s empty and growling its approval... so he can ignore the other issue, the one that keeps coming up with Rogue and Bobby to do with them paying for things, finding sneaky ways to cover the fact that he’s nearly always broke, as that’s just another sort of guilty-git-thing.
He should be grateful and gracious and play nice, really, when she’s being so carefully kind... but that wouldn’t be him, and so he thinks nothing of leeching the flame off her, a subtle head tilt sending it streaming to pool in his palm, where he plays with it idly while adding to the order.
”Drink” he grins ”And icecream, and some of that wierd sweet pizza. We're celebrating, after all...”
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Post by Rogue on Nov 14, 2006 4:47:19 GMT
The fire-sensation alters abruptly, as she watches it move out of her control and into John's. She shoots him a look, and shakes her head, but doesn't bother to steal it back. He's probbably got stronger control than she does anyway, even after an absorbtion.
”Drink. And icecream, and some of that wierd sweet pizza. We're celebrating, after all...”[/i]
"Celebratin'?" she questions, as she moves to her nightstand to pick up a notepad and pen and jot the items down, as there's no way she'll remember, otherwise, she reasons. "I thought it w's just 'cause w'were hungry."
She comes back to sit back on the bed, the notepad on her lap. "Wha' kin'a drink d'ya have in min'?"
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