Eva: Greater Berlin - Mini 5/3/11

<Wilhelm_Faustus> For once Wil has managed to stake a claim on the couch, stretched out with an arm laying across his eyes.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...she doesn't like me." He mutters. He knows Lit is there, the man isn't all that stealthy.
<Darkling> "You're strange to her." His head is in the fridge.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...yes, she's the picture of normality."
<Darkling> "Perhaps to her she is, and you're the foreign element in her environment." He pulls out a large ham, god knows how much their food budget is, fresh meat daily during the Fimbulwinter was not easy to come by.
 <Wilhelm_Faustus> He rolls his eyes.
<Darkling> "You should know, she was kinder to you on first meeting than she was to me."
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...is that so?"
<Darkling> The ham slams into a roasting pan, and he walks over to Wil, rolling up a sleeve to show a mass of thing white scars amid a forest of black hair.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He lifts his arms off his eyes long enough to look. ". . ."
<Darkling> He shrugs, rolling down his sleeve and walking back to prepare the ham.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He sighs and settles back down, thinking.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "... ... ...what did you do, to get on her good side?"
<Darkling> He holds up the pan with the massive ham.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> Of course. "Tch."
<Darkling> "I am better than her other options too." He goes back to seasoning.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> Now thats an interesting subjet. "...what do you mean by that?"
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He finally sits up, peering over the back of the couch at Lit.
<Darkling> "Ah, well.. simply there are meaner people than old Lit at the base." He doesn't even turn to answer.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> ". . ." Hrm. His eyes narrow. Something to look into.
<Darkling> After that, the big man is silent except for the odd hum while he prepares tonight's meal.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He lays back down, pushing his glasses onto his forehead so he can pinch the bridge of his nose.
<Mr_Rage> A door unlatches and swings open. Rasia, drawn by the smell of cooking ham, by the way she's walking nose first.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> ". . ."
<Darkling> Continues what he is doing, and places the ham in the oven.
<Mr_Rage> She stops, to give Wilhelm an analytical, firm stare, belly growling.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> An eye opens. "...you say something?"
<Mr_Rage> A regular growl, that time. Her scarf is back on.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...you don't say." The eye closes.
<Mr_Rage> "Tch." And she moves past, to watch the ham cook in the oven, flicking the light on.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> ". . ." He sits up so he can watch her.
<Darkling> Lit appears to be arranging a bunch of cheeses and biscuits on a platter.
<Mr_Rage> Nice tush. Another complaint from her stomach.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He folds his arms along the back of the couch, chin resting there as his eyes move between Lit and Rasia's not unattractive figure.
<Mr_Rage> Her focus is impressive. Bowing her back to let Lit move around and over her, she never looks away or wavers. Grrrrowl~
<Wilhelm_Faustus> This domestic atmosphere wasn't comfortable...or was it the decor?
<Darkling> It might be the decor. Black, grey, darker grey, some chrome in the kitchen among polished steel. Whomever designed this building along with the dome was a depressing person.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> Yaaawn.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...is it that exciting?" He has to ask. Even fat kids don't stare at food so intently.
<Mr_Rage> She looks at him over her shoulder. 'My food' she signs, motions that are pretty obvious even to the untrained eye.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...it isn't going to escape if you look away."
<Darkling> Lit sets the tray of finger foods out. There's some small sausages accompanying the cheese and biscuits now.
<Mr_Rage> A mean look, but she does pull herself away towards the finger foods. Salivation forces her to swallow, groaning.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He puts his hands up in surrender and sinks back down onto the couch.
<Darkling> Looks to Rasia and the foods.
<Mr_Rage> She replies, pulling her scarf down, indicating the device. #5"?"
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He gets up from the couch finally, hands in his pockets as he approaches the kitchen.
<Darkling> Smiles and releases the device. "Enjoy Fraulein."
<Mr_Rage> ...Perhaps it would be better to call them 'fist foods' in her presence. Uncomprehending or uncaring of 'spoiling her appetite', she nearly clears the appetizers, if left undisturbed.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He hardly seems bothered by her manners, and makes no move to even approach the appetizers, for his own safety.
<Mr_Rage> Stomach sated, for now, she licks breadcrumbs from her lips and returns to watching the ham bake.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> ". . ." He watches her go, then to the appetizer plate.
<Mr_Rage> Less than a third of it left.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He sits at the table, pulling out his book. He always had a book on him somewhere. A moment to linger on the inside cover and he starts reading.
<Mr_Rage> With her guard removed, she drools freely, droplets of it forming a puddle under her chin.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> A sigh and he turns a page.
<Darkling> Luckily there seems to be a black hand towel right under Rasia. Seems Lit may have predicted this.
<Mr_Rage> "Why do you read?" She finally cracks the silence, her voice as awful as before.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "To learn." He responds simply, and turns a page.
<Mr_Rage> "Learn what?"
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...different things."
<Mr_Rage> "..." If he bothers to glance, her brows are furrowed and lips pursed. Confusion?
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He peeks over. "...this one is about theoretical physics, such as the mathematical equation for a Dirac Sea."
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...the curvature of spacetime..."
<Mr_Rage> You're getting a blank look, Wilhelm. But she is focusing on you.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...black hole thermodynamics, dark matter, field theory..." He looks over. "...:
<Mr_Rage> "..."
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...science."
<Mr_Rage> There's only a vague nod. "I don't know much of that."
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...mmh." He doesn't look surprised. Would you even know if he was?
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...how many dimensions are there?" He closes his book.
<Mr_Rage> Her eyebrows push together. Maaaybe start slower.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "..." How much simpler does he have to be? He scratches at the back of his head.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...what -do- you know about science?"
<Mr_Rage> Her gaze turns back to the ham, switching to sit cross-legged. "...martial arts are science." She croaks out defiantly.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "How so?" He gets up from the chair booking coming with him as he approaches the oven and the girl.
<Mr_Rage> --That's a pretty ceiling. The bruise on the back of your head and that sharp, stabbing pain on your stomach aren't so nice, but the oppressive grey texture above you is quaint. She growls, squeezing the Aryan's hips, teeth threatening to break skin, even through his shirt.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> ". . ." His head lulls to the side before he realized what happened.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...ngh...okay...you don't like me." He groans. "...I get it."
<Darkling> Lit looms over them both.
<Mr_Rage> "Rrrrrr." By the grip she's got, the Aryan should probably be glad her gloves are still on. Her bite tightens, shirt-fibers tearing one by one.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "No! S-stop it!" His protests are all he can manage, he can't risk moving and having his blood spilled.
<Darkling> "Rasia." The single word is sharp and final.
<Mr_Rage> Her jaw relaxes. Her arms unwind. She backs off, never taking her eyes off him. "My food."
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He scrambles back and stands quickly, adjusting his shirt. He keeps his head at just the right angle that light glares off his glasses to hide his gaze.
<Mr_Rage> It's actually a testament to her self control that she didn't puncture his skin with those fangs of hers. Knowing the strength of the average human's jaw...
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...excuse me." He adjusts his glasses and exits the kitchen, making down the hallway for the bedrooms.
<Darkling> Lit shakes his head. They're going to have to get along better, especially with new recruits on their way.
<Mr_Rage> Lit gets a dirty look, and she resumes her ham-watching. ...He even tastes strange.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He all but pulls his hair out once in seclusion. 'A human being doesn't act that way about food!'
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He reaches up under his shirt to rub where she'd bitten down.
<Mr_Rage> A dozen perfect little stitch-marks in two crescents. It's still wet.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> He sighs as he wipes his hand off on his pants. Idiot. He'd dropped his guard.
<Mr_Rage> Approaching her meal, yes.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> 'Who does that over food?!' "...ugh.
<Mr_Rage> Her, clearly. I wonder if The Old Men are laughing.
<Wilhelm_Faustus> "...bastards, I bet they are." He all but spits out.