FLUFF BREAK

[acautionarytale]

Astrid hadn't been kidding when she said this house had plenty of room. It's a big, sprawling, two-storey... thing on a corner in a residential district that's slowly putting itself back together. Sure the place looks a little worn on the outside....

...But on the inside she's managed to make it an actual home. The place used to belong to a Loyalist couple who, sadly, no longer need it. Astrid has, interestingly, made a habit of appropriating abandoned Loyalist property, mainly because the current provisional governmant considers them forfeit. First come first served, and it seems the Fringe team won't ever have to pay for anything again in this area. So she moved out all the Loyalist propaganda and managed to get in some real furniture and decor. It's a warm and inviting and roomy place that needs explored.

Comments

Over here, we shall coddle some toasters, Peter.

[acautionarytale]

Astrid has set up a little corner of the vast living room with a sofa and a few comfy chairs and half the blankets and pillows in town, it seems. It's warm and cozy and quiet, just the place for recovering from just about anything.

[tookhishand]

Donald feels at this moment at time he's at least upgraded from being a talking toaster to something fuzzier and cuter, like a strange robocat.

Astrid's source of money is curious, how can she afford all of this? Especially the massive amounts of food and hot sauce October can put away. He's on the sofa, pondering money and bald men and Walter and bald children as the after-lunch medication kicks in.

[acautionarytale]

That is curious, isn't it?

Nearby, October is bundled into a recliner, snoring gently. He'd taken Donald and Astrid at their word, and has spent most of his time eating and sleeping. He'll most likely peruse that map of the quad-state area that's sitting on a nearby table as soon as he wakes up, but Astrid isn't rushing that at all.

The selfsame Astrid walks in, now, with a couple steaming mugs in her hands, and a reddish-brown kitten trailing after her. Said kitten bounces up onto the sofa. Astrid, meanwhile, stops and offers a mug to Donald with a smile. "Cocoa?"

And over here, we shall find a wee home for Grumpy Peter.

[acautionarytale]

"Told you there was space," Astrid says, a slightly proud smile on her face. "There's also a basement that isn't cold and damp, but I hope you don't hole up in there."

[tookhishand]

He can still be useful, he's decided. He'll rescue the Calender Team and... see about doing all he can to put the world back together. Walter's off, taking care of his son, and he's here, helping Walter's family.

Bold cozy thoughts. Cocoa. Yummy. "Thank you."

...Kitten. "I haven't seen any cats more than a decade. Where did you find him?"

And in The Fyoo-char, we have a blender and ingredients and... a thing wot plays music!

[acautionarytale]

Well, Trygstad managed to get almost everything. There's the scientific equipment, sure. There's a blender and an array of cooking implements. There's a mini-fridge stocked with all the things Walter had asked for. And... there's... a thingee. With speakers. And controls. And a note apologising that this isn't a record player but that its memory has over three thousand tracks of music from the dates specified.

Maybe there's a user's manual somewhere that, hopefully, is not in Norwegian.

[acautionarytale]

Astrid nudges Donald's feet aside so she can sit on the sofa with him. The kitten, meanwhile, has discovered a new hyoomin on the sofa and oh my gosh, must love the new hyoomin lemme get fuzz and purr and cute all over you, hi, hi, hi, hiiiii.

"I think it's more that he found me. I was out picking up some groceries the other day and he followed me home and wouldn't take no for an answer."

[tookhishand]

"He must be one smart cat, to make it on the streets." Oh gosh. So much purring, so much fuzz. He has to pet the little guy.

[acautionarytale]

He's a wee rumbly ball of fluff and needles. Love him. LOVE HIM.

"Yep. And lucky, too." Astrid reaches out to scritch the tiny head. The kitten gets all confused and rolls about. Oh, so much love. "I haven't figured out what to name him, yet, though."

Prrprrprrprrprrprrprr.

[tookhishand]

Lovings. He can't pet you any more than you're being pet, kittycat! He only has two hands! And kittycat is tiny.

Names... it's time to ponder names and sip cocoa, quiet.

[acautionarytale]

Astrid curls up with a blanket and her cocoa as well and the room becomes very quiet. The only sound is the ticking of a clock somewhere and the kitten's purring and October's gentle snoring.

The kitten bats at dust motes with his oversized kitten paws and then stretches as only a feline can. Oh, tough life, eh, cat?

Teeny sneeze. Astrid giggles.

[tookhishand]

"Nutmeg." he says drowsily after ten minutes or so. "It's--his fur is nearly that color. Don't you think?"

[acautionarytale]

The kitten rolls about and purrs. Astrid smiles.

"It's a perfect name."

Little Nutmeg yawns the biggest kitten yawn ever.

"Should I let you sleep?" Astrid asks, looking between the drowsy Donald and the still-snoring October. Between those two and the kitten, she won't be far behind unless she gets up and does something.

[tookhishand]

"It's a side effect. Did you need me to do something?" Probably he could fight it off with caffeine... and escaping the purring, which is like a sedative itself.

[acautionarytale]

"No, I just... didn't want to bother you if you wanted to sleep." Astrid puts down the cocoa mug and looks at Donald for a moment. He looks... lonely.

So she makes a decision. She'll do what she's wanted to do for a while, now, because he struck her as being so painfully sad and alone. Quietly, she scoots over on the sofa until she's next to him, then puts her arms around him and hugs him. And stays there.

The kitten thinks it's snuggle time and drapes himself across the two of them.

[tookhishand]

She's guaranteed he'll be out like a light soon if she stays next to him. Warmth. A hug. It's been a long time, in this torn up world. He was always a danger to his various Native friends with a tracker on him, so...

He sets the half-finished cocoa aside and keeps on drowsing, trying to stay awake. Silly pills. "We have things to do, Michael."

Michael.

[acautionarytale]

Astrid's heart breaks a little when she hears this, but she stays right where she is. She stays and tries her best not to tear up but fails. Your shirt may end up a little wet, Donald.

She'll stay until he's asleep, but... considering the purring and the snoring and the warmth, she might not get up then, either.

[tookhishand]

There's no shame in tears, he's guilty of it right now too, the moment he remembers it's Astrid, not Michael, and... it never will be.

But hiding feelings all the time would defeat the purpose of being human. Men should cry if they damn well feel like it.




Zzzz.

[acautionarytale]

Zzzzzz.

And when he comes round again, the kitten is gone to who knows where, doing cat things, and October is once again chowing down and Astrid... is still there, snuggled against him, asleep.

October tilts his head. "I did not wish to wake you," he says softly. "You looked... content."

[tookhishand]

So quiet. Astrid's asleep, poor thing.

"We're all a little out of sorts." And he's pinned. "It's quite alright."

Re: And in The Fyoo-char, we have a blender and ingredients and... a thing wot plays music!

[because_its_cool]

That's fine. He has a really lovely little machine that translates most everything from one language text to another language, spoken by a sexy female Norwegian. Walter can master most scientific equipment quickly, can disassemble dense equasions and come up with hypothesis that sound insane but are actually, and disturbingly in some cases, right. For all that, Astrid's iPod perplexed him, and this is like unraveling the mysteries of two universes.

It takes a while to get things going. After half an hour of listening, poking around, and grumbling, music is filling the pristine new lab. After a short turn in the centre of the room, a bit of singing, and an attempt to dance with the mass spectrometer, Walter leaves off to take stock of the ingredients.

"Two strawberry milkshakes coming right up! None of that protein sludge, either. Fresh strawberries." He squints at the label of one of the bottles. "And real milk! We're in for a treat, young Michael."

Grinning widely (and a bit wildly), he begins mixing.

[acautionarytale]

Astrid has decided that Donald is the best pillow ever and is dead asleep. Who knew someone that tiny could be so heavy?

On the other hand, October watches them a little... forlornly. Still, he has food. Plenty of food. He's almost back to his old self, give or take twenty pounds. He doesn't look so weary and bloodless.

"What do you think will happen to us?" he asks softly.

[tookhishand]

He's all of six inches taller than Astrid, so yes, sorta heavy. Moreso since he isn't well.

"You'll stay here, I imagine. When you're all together..."

Re: And in The Fyoo-char, we have a blender and ingredients and... a thing wot plays music!

[acautionarytale]

iPods are made to confuse people. Astrid never told him how long it took her to learn how to use it....

Michael had wisely stayed away when Walter decided to fight with this machine. He knew Walter would win, but he also knew it'd be a pitched battle, with many casualties on both sides, as nothing is as epic as the conflict between man and music machine. Indeed, the thing had taken umbrage at Walter's fumblings and had spat out noise from radio stations in Korea, Mexico, Russia, and Akron, Ohio and a number station in Antarctica before finally grudgingly surrendering its playlists. And even then the volume control had been extremely shirty. And then the thing kept going into hibernate mode every five minutes.

It was only after Walter gave it a solid dose of percussive maintenance that it decided to co-operate.

Michael came out of hiding to watch Walter dance, a slight smile on his face. He is of the opinion that more people should dance with scientific equipment.

He draws close to watch Walter prepare the milkshakes, eyes wide and curious.

[acautionarytale]

She would feel bad if she was squishing him. Yanno. If she were awake.

October regards his eggs and habaneros. "That is what I mean. What is to become of us if we all are gathered here but cannot find a way to leave this time? What can we do to survive in a place where we are hated?"

It's been chewing away at the back of his mind for a while, now.