log - too tired for title whee - closed to B1 and A4, open to those likely to wander by

[conning]

Who: B1: Closed to Neal and residents; A4: open to B1 and those who wish to poke their heads in because socializing and open doors
When: Early September--on a Sunday and then the following Wednesday. Why the following Wednesday? Idk man I just picked something.
Where: B1 on Sunday, and A4 on Wednesday IG???
Summary: Meredith invited Neal to visit, and Neal suggested making it a mingle for both apartments. Then Malcolm invited Neal over and Neal decided to do a solo trial run or something like that.
Warnings: Not at the moment. except possibly meredith giving neal a shovel talk


B1 - SUNDAY

Okay, well, he meant to make it simple. But then he got carried away, because that's who he is as a person. So here is Neal managing two coolers, one slightly smaller than the other. He has to set one down in order to knock on the door.

The coolers themselves contain tiny servings of about a dozen different dishes, from tiny seasoned steak slices of varying doneness to little onigiri stuffed with lightly salted salmon. If it's stupidly elaborate, feel free to assume there is some dressed-down (read: locally available) version available in miniature.

The other cooler has small bottles of cheap wine and those little paper cups that barely hold a mouthful. He sets the wines with the foods that pair best.

Look this is who he is as a person, okay? At least he's dressed normally--turquoise sweater, close-cut jeans.

[ SUPPLY ACTIVITIES AS YOU WISH, both with Neal and each other. ]


B1/A4/Passerby - FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY

Okay, so the tiny food was a bit much. Only God can judge him.

At least this time it's a plain old cook-out with a grill on the patio of A4. Yes, the grill items include salmon, chicken, and... tofu in several marinades including citrus-chipotle.

Only God can judge him.

There's also a spread of perfectly ordinary salad-shaped objects and tiny pickles et cetera inside on the kitchen counter.

[ SUPPLY ACTIVITIES AS YOU WISH, both with Neal and each other. ]

Comments

SUNDAY

[abrightboy]

Malcolm doesn’t have the benefit of even one really good outfit to his name. The bloody sweater he arrived in is wrapped around the knife and stuffed in the bottom of his closet. He can’t make himself get rid of it.

But, he recalls vividly Neal’s comments about his dress sense when they met, so he recruits Meredith to help him find something that coordinates properly and classily in his cobbled together wardrobe.

No reason. No reason he has chosen this particular day to get help in looking as nice as possible.

It’s possible he’s shined his shoes.

They go with the thin black sweater they’ve settled on with a few buttons at the collar and he’s done all of them up. He’s wearing it with charcoal grey slacks. He spends more time than usual trying to tame his hair back without the usual odd flyaway.

No reason. Where he’s from, when one has company, one dresses for dinner.

When the knock on the door comes, he hangs back to let one of the others answer it. He doesn’t want to look eager. Because he’s not. He’s totally not.

[conning]

Neal does his due diligence as an arriving guest, sets out the spread, fidgets with it until his OCD is satisfied with the presentation. Not that he would call it OCD--it's just thoroughness.

He smiles warmly at Malcolm when he's in decorous speaking range. "Hey."

Neal gestures at the spread. "I figured if you couldn't eat much, it's only polite to make sure you could at least have a few small things rather than only part of a larger one."

i'mjust here to troll malcolm

[ployboy]

Jesus Christ, the man had shined his shoes.

And Tim's no longer a walking fashion disaster himself, having become important in some grand, grown-up sort of way in Gotham City. He's even acquired some scraps of taste, of refinement, of knowing what's what and who's who by the labels they tend to wear. So, all of that to say: Malcolm's sticking out like a sore thumb when Tim scurries past with an obnoxiously green skateboard (and bruised elbow), heading to his room. His nest. His hovel. His sanctuary.

The man. had shined. his shoes. Of course Tim stops on a dime, takes in the scene, and

"Let me guess, Target has a sale on ginger tea and you just couldn't help yourself?"

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[inlieuofadad]

Gil hears the sounds of several voices--some familiar, some not--as he goes to knock. Curious, he tries the door. It's unlocked, there are no protests when he starts to open it, so he mentally shrugs and comes inside. As usual, he scans the room for Malcolm.

And his eyebrows go up a touch. He's caught Malcolm mid-stare at the guy in the kitchen area, who's currently chatting with Meredith as he helps her clean up. He quietly closes the door and gives Meredith a polite greeting nod. Jeff gets a very dad-like are you staying out of trouble? raised eyebrow. Malcolm, though--he tries very hard to mask a smile. "I'm offended I didn't get and invitation to this dinner party."

Let's mingle the fuck outta this.

[henchgal]

Sunday (open)
Meredith might be grimacing slightly at the idea of cleaning up all the little plates and tiny bottles and paper cups--she knows it'll probably end up being her job to tidy and find all the stuff hidden away. But still, she's going to enjoy the food on offer. She actually sits perched up on the countertop, legs dangling over the side, watching the whole room as she eats.

Sunday (for Malcolm)
Meredith and Malcolm have gotten pretty good at their non-verbals, by now. So the way she raises her eyebrows at him when she catches how he's watching Neal when he thinks he isn't looking? That's mild concern, confusion, and sort of a check-in. Is she reading this right?

Wednesday (open)
It'd be rude to show up empty-handed to a cookout, so Meredith's made a corn-and-tomato salad (short of being a salsa by just a few scovilles) and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. As she arrives, juggling bowl and plate and cane, she immediately passes one of the former to the nearest person, not bothering to check who it is.

Wednesday (for Neal)
At least this can be said for her. She's subtle, in how she corners Neal--heading out to the patio while he's cooking, shutting the door behind her and clearing her throat quietly.

"Is now a good time?"

[abrightboy]

His eyes widen slightly when he meets her gaze, realizing she’s seen him and what she’s asking. He looks down at his shiny shoes.

Nothing. It’s nothing. Be cool.

He looks at her again and shrugs a shoulder and shakes his head. Nothing to see here. Just someone being totally cool while hanging around their new completely platonic friend.

TWO FOR ONE? WHY YES.

[conning]

Sunday
Now what kind of guest would he be if he made her pick up after the mess he brought over? When things have more or less wound down, Neal joins Meredith in picking up the bits and bobs that have been left homeless around the room.

"I hope that wasn't... too much," Neal says, almost apologetic. "I can get carried away."

Wednesday
Neal looks up in slight surprise as Meredith appears--or rather, not at her appearance, but at the fact that she closes the door. He goes back to turning the mix of grill items that he fully intends to take to Bonnie's if they stay uneaten here.

"As good as any. What's up?"

ssssunday

[ployboy]

Tim... has been in hiding. Not really hiding; he'd slipped out a few minutes after the door cracked open because of a Guest, because he had remembered his discarded skateboard. And woe be if someone were to trip over that thing. He had sneaked out of his room, chat?ted with Malcolm, and sneaked back into his room.

Easy.

Except now he was hungry, and there was light talk about the apartment, and there had been a lot of food so...

he's sneaked back out to the kitchen. All casually-like.

"So. You invited him, huh?"

Wednesday.

[retisense]

"Thanks." Abby says, voice drawling out in something that's just shy of sarcastic, "Chocolate chip cookies, my fave."

Not that she's not willing to help out a woman in distress or anything. Especially not when she's apparently hosting some kind of shindig (not that anyone asked her). So she reaches out and takes the salsa-salad-thing too, and heads over to the kitchen counter.

"Welcome to A4, we're all mad here."

Wednesday

[twistedbones]

Thackery isn't at the door, but after Meredith has unburdened herself she'll find him atop the counter among the plates of food, shamelessly sniffing at what's on offer. He looks up when he senses someone coming near, perking up as he recognizes her.

"Oh! Meredith, right?"

Wednesday

[abrightboy]

When Meredith came back in from the patio, Malcolm held out a glass of sparkling water for her.

"How's the grill going?" he asks, his eyes lingering on Neal on the other side of the glass before returning to her.

PASSERBY

[forethinking]

(Ren's just, as usual, going to A1, but he hears a commotion and the smell of food makes his feet move without his so willing, and before he realizes it, he's already poking his head on the apartment to see where the aroma is coming from.

Maybe he can nag a recipe and be on his way?)

[conning]

Neal spots him leaning in the door as he brings a plate of various grilled things inside. He waves him over. "Come on in. There's more than enough."

[abrightboy]

So maybe Malcolm takes a little long to get ready because he has to find another outfit that matches properly and he’s determined to do it himself this time, because Meredith has Suspicions about his feelings for Neal, which are totally and completely platonic, he reminds himself.

He brings wine, however meagre the offerings are at the store. Red wine. He’s clutching the bottle nervously as he pokes his head inside the apartment. Neal’s outside. He recognizes the angle of his shoulders through the window.

Not that he’s ever looked.

Then he spots Ren and his face lights up. “Ren! Hey, how are you doing?” he asks as he walks over.

[ployboy]

[Oh, god. Tim's... about done with socializing. It's one thing to get out now and then, to see new faces and make nice with new names. It's another thing to begin to feel overwhelmed by the simple... niceties of people, without reprieve. But there's a duty, y'know, some chant for Three Musketeers bullshit that compels Tim to say an enthusiastic yes to any invitation of or by one of his roommates.

And now here's] Ren.

[When did that happen.]

Here for the friends or for the food?

a bard drops in

[cacophonish]

I. SUNDAY FUNDAY (CLOSED: B1; gatecrashing with ooc permission)
It's purely by chance that Jeff shows up, totally uninvited, several hours into the soiree. He's just kind of barging into the apartment with a DVD copy of The Lost World: Jurassic Park in one hand, looking like an excited, overgrown puppy.

"Dude!" The dude in question being Tim. "Why didn't you tell me they made a sequel to Jurassic Park?! I only had, like, three bucks on me, so I basically had to give the dude at the store a handjob for this movie."

Oh. There's respectable adult people here. Jeff stands in the living room for a moment, before he feels the need to clarify, for the sake of polite company: "I didn't really give the guy a handjob."

II. WEDNESDAY'S... OKAY? (OPEN)
This time, Jeff's hanging around on purpose. Like hell he's going to say no to free food. As someone who can barely cook, he's always willing and eager to try others' culinary creations.

Right now he's hovering over the food, looking at the spread curiously.

"Huh. I didn't know there were so many ways to make tofu..." A beat, then he lights up and snaps his fingers, turning to whoever's closest. "Though-- oh! Did you know they can make, like, milk out of tofu? It's pretty good. I don't know how they do, it, though, maybe they just squeeze it out of the blocks..."

ANOTHER TWO FOR ONE DEAL

[conning]

SUNDAY
Neal looks up in surprise from his own more normal-sized glass of terrible wine, having finished sampling his own work and the teeny tiny pairing cups. For a second he stares at Jeff. Who doesn't know there are sequels to Jurassic Park?

Okay, that thought immediately gets confronted with the reality of where they are right now and the kinds of people he's met and things he's seen. "Trust me, it's not worth a handjob. Though that wouldn't be my opener in someone else's apartment."

WEDNESDAY
"Drinking what gets squeezed out of tofu blocks would be..." Neal makes a slight face from where he's putting together a spiced tofu salad for himself. "That would just be cruel and unusual punishment. Soy milk--'tofu milk'--is actually a midstage of the process of making tofu itself."

B1

[abrightboy]

Malcolm spots Jeff as he comes in, but he stays out of the way while he talks to Neal, sliding over as Neal goes back to hosting duties.

“Hey. How’re you doing?”

Sunday

[henchgal]

"Oh! Has anyone ever told you about the Star Wars prequel and sequel trilogies? I can pirate those, and you don't even need to give me a handy. Just cuddle me while watching them."

Respectable adult people, her ass. Winter is coming and Mere needs all the cuddles her poor joints can take.

[ployboy]

Tim had been hiding. Scratch that-- Tim had been a respectable... recluse. It's not that he's gungho to make a bad first impression on Malcolm's guy friend, but he can hear pleasant talk through his closed door and should things... escalate... then Tim doesn't need to be aware of them happening. Keeping to himself is going swimmingly.

Then Tim hears the front door open. Again. And then.

That.

Why is Jeff like this.

He's appropriately... mortified, Tim thinks, cracking his door open to slip out into the common room and-- interject, when he can. "Some people will talk trash about JP II but the animatronics are some of the best in the series."

Welcome, jackass. Tim notes the front door isn't locked. That's annoying.

Wednesday.

[retisense]

"There's like, a million ways to make tofu, man. It just soaks up all the stuff you put it in so the sky's the limit."

She hadn't bothered looking up before talking, and when she does, she blinks, eyes wide.

"Whoa. Hey Mr. Calhoun....er. Jeff."

Sunday - Neal

[ployboy]

He can get... balky, with people in his space. Territorial, even, in all the wrong ways. That's a part of the Bat in him, having to keep order of what and who is his. Strangers are for suspicion. That's just the natural order of things.

The first time Tim emerges from his cave (his room), it's with the excuse to clear his skateboard from the living room. Neal has hands full of food and Tim just darts out into the open enough to retrieve his wheels, give Malcolm a hard time, and then he's back to seclusion.

Somewhere along the line, a certain bard barges in like he owns the damn place. And Tim dies a little on the inside.

And then... he gets hungry. There's food. An elaborate spread, if he remembers correctly. And so, finally, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne emerges to join the party and play nice. He even covered up with a lil... cardigan. It's chilly in here.

He's hounding by the booze set up, and when Neal happens by Tim will flash him a smile. "No Pétrus on sale today?"

Hi.

[conning]

"Sadly, the Liquor Locker's selection was fairly limited." Neal manages to keep his inspection of Tim to a minimum, or at least to minimum awareness. It's no more than the casual look of one stranger meeting another.

"You must be Tim, the elusive third roommate."

abby kim | original | ota

[retisense]

sunday

"You gotta be kidding me, Neal."

Abby is wearing an oversized pink T-shirt with Pusheen wearing a toast hat on the front and a pair of skinny jeans, headphones around her neck, staring at the spread of tiny foods. She can't decide if they're more cute or pathetic, and is even more torn on whether she wants to actually put any of it in her mouth or not.

Leaning down, she gently pokes one of the onigiri, seriously considering whether or not she wants one when she feels eyes on her.

"Oh sorry. Guess if I touched it I should take it, huh? Need to get in here?"

wednesday

The tofu is definitely a step up from tiny-food, in Abby's humble opinion. Tofu is one of her favorite foods, at the end of the day, delicious little cubes of unformed sponge that soak up whatever flavors you put them with and that smooth texture - even better deep fried, but grilled is great.

She's standing in the corner of the patio holding a plate of various tofu types and a mound of salad, spearing them one by one and looking them over before shoving them in her face. A wallflower, pretty much the way she's always been, dressed in yet another oversized t-shirt, this time blue with a big retro font that reads "good vibes only." Not really looking for conversation, but not really opposed either.

After a bit of people-watching, though, she feels up to it.

"Hey. How's it going?"

A simple enough greeting, though she says it with her mouth full of tofu.

Wednesday

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks up from choosing a small piece of chicken to lay eyes on the source of the voice.

“Hi.” He considers her a brief second, then points at her. “You came by on Sunday, right?”

Wednesday - OTA

[twistedbones]

Thackery has a feeling that the kinds of food he could supply to this cookout would go unappreciated. He still hasn't worked out how he's meant to navigate a grocery store even with a human illusion in place, so his diet since arrival has consisted of 1.) tinned tuna and later cat food provided in the commissary at lunchtime and 2.) mice and rats he's hunted once he found a few places he can do so without drawing attention due to the aforementioned illusion.

So unlike some people, he does show up empty-handed (empty-pawed?), though "show up" might be a bit of a misnomer given that he lives here. He perches on the patio furniture to watch the cooking with interest, as well as hops up on the counter whenever he feels like helping himself to a bit of roughage from the salad layout.

"Nice day for it," he'll say with a glance at anyone who comes up to him, feeling awkward about the expectation for social interaction.

Wednesday

[abrightboy]

Malcolm watches the cat for a moment, until he speaks, which makes him smile.

"You're the talking cat. You're Neal's roommate, right?"