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 sunday sunday

[conning]

"No, but you should take it if you touch it. Tends to be good manners." Neal's tone is a little teasing. "Which part do you take greater offense at--the variety, or the size?"

[retisense]

"Fine, fine." she says, rolling her eyes at him. It's equally teasing - she likes Neal, he makes her smile. Scooping up the onigiri, she takes a bite that's pretty big considering how strongly she'd been feigning disinterest.

"Mm. Oh, that's good."

Dropping the second half of the onigiri onto her plate, she wipes her hand off on her hip (very classy), and raises an eyebrow, "It's the size, mostly. Variety never hurt anyone."

[conning]

She makes him smile, too, which is fortunate given their living arrangements. "The size is for a reason."

He shrugs, gesturing broadly. "Besides, I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that it's better to eat small meals throughout the day or something like that."

[retisense]

"What's the reason?"

Yes, she totally says that with her mouth full, and takes the pause in conversation as an excuse to stuff the last of the onigiri into her mouth. Abby talks a big talk about still eating meat, but anyone paying attention will notice she's going for tofu and eggs and rice and seaweed and deftly avoiding anything with meat that isn't fish.

"How considerate of you, thinking of everyone's health."

[conning]

Oh, Neal has noticed. He's noticed, made private note, and silently been glad that Thackery probably won't object to an increase in fish options.

"It's called a menu dégustation," Neal says, deliberately putting on a slightly haughty air. "A tasting menu. A showcase of skill."

If she's very, very observant, there's a glance in Malcolm's direction that Neal doesn't catch quick enough to stop.

[retisense]

The increase in fish options will most definitely be (silently) appreciated, that's for sure. Red and white meat just isn't exactly her jam anymore, there's something about eating people jerky that makes the whole concept of meat just a little unappealing.

"Huh, is that what it is. Well, you're definitely skilled."

She notices that little glance over at Malcolm, and some puzzle pieces click together in her brain. She can't help her tiny little smirk at it.

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure more than one person has noticed your showcase of skill."

[conning]

The look he gives her is probably not one she's seen before from him. Slightly startled, a flash of embarrassment, then back to smooth relaxation. "Well, there are multiple people here. Though I'm sure not all of them have your refined palate."

[retisense]

Okay, so there is some hope for poor little Malcolm then. Well, well. Apparently matchmaking cute boys is going to be her hobby in this weird depressing supernatural world.

Then it registers that he called her palate refined and she gets that little stab of guilt and discomfort at knowing what she's eaten, how "refined" her stupid palate is. There's a little churn in her stomach and she puts her food back down on the plate, appetite completely gone.

"I hope you're joking. I mean, I'll eat anything."

Patently untrue, and he knows it, but it's the best attempt at a joke she can make right now.

[conning]

Neal lifts a hand, hovering over her arm without touching her. "Abby?"

He's concerned, obviously so, but he's not sure what he said to cause that particular look.

[retisense]

"Mm, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Just a bad memory."

But her hands are shaking, just a little, so she puts the plate down and pulls up the bottom of her oversized t-shirt to stuff her hands in her pockets.

[conning]

She hasn't shied away from his hand, so he lets it rest lightly against her upper arm. "You done for the night? I'll come back and help clean up later."

[retisense]

When his hand rests against her arm, she doesn't quite start but she does go slightly tense, then looks over at him with a slightly forced smile.

"Nah, don't go calling off the party on my account. It's not that bad."

[conning]

He lets his hand drop the moment he feels her stiffen, his own smile natural. "I'm not calling off the party. I'm asking if you'd go with me while I get some air."

[retisense]

There's a little stab of guilt when he drops his hand because she knows, she knows that he was only trying to help with the contact. She hadn't meant to stiffen up.

"Well, when you put it that way, yeah, sure."

She lets the forced smile drop, but it's quickly replaced by a much smaller but more real one.

[conning]

He doesn't touch her this time, but he does circle an arm around her shoulders, guiding her out the door and into the hall. From there it's a short walk to the outside, chilly shadows lingering between the apartment buildings.

Neal doesn't speak right away, giving her a moment to gather herself. "Should we pretend I asked what's wrong and you avoided answering for a couple of rounds?"

[retisense]

It's kind of nice to let herself be guided out of the apartment and into the hallway, out of the building and into the fresh air. As soon as she gets outside, she takes a deep breath of air, holding it in her lungs for a moment before releasing it in a long, slow exhale.

The air doesn't smell like salt. It's clean, fresh small country air.

When Neal speaks, she laughs softly, though it's not the most pleasant one, "I mean, to be fair that's kind of what happened."

[conning]

"So?" Gentle prompting, hands tucked into his pockets. He looks down at her sidelong.

[retisense]

For a moment, Abby has no idea where to start, so she takes a deep breath and holds it, her cheeks puffing out a little bit, brows furrowed. Then she lets the breath out in a loud hiss and sighs.

"I uh. A few years ago, I was in a shipwreck. We went out boating, me and my family and my boyfriend at the time. The boat sank, and me and a couple others were on a life raft for a...for a real long time. We ran out of rations. People died. I had to eat to survive, and I'm here now so. You do the math."

[conning]

The horror of it gets Neal to stop short. Not for long, a breath of a moment, but it's enough to catch.

For almost a minute he can't think of anything to say, and it feels like the longest minute of his life.

"Oh," is what he finally manages, then he half-snorts a laugh at himself, at how wildly inadequate that reaction is. Deep breath. Nod. Compartmentalize. "So what you're saying is I should work on my vegan and vegetarian repertoire."

[retisense]

This is not a surprising reaction, and actually one of the less offensive ones she's experienced in her time. Smiling slightly at his little 'oh,' she pushes her hair back from her forehead and tucks it behind her ear, shaking her head. The comment about vegan and vegetarian repertoire makes her laugh.

"Well, now that you know, I'd really appreciate that, honestly. Guess you know why I was so into your tofu now, right, buddy?"

She gives him a light punch in the shoulder.