(no subject)

[the_antiangst]

So what happens when the mun wants to toss Angel at three separate entrance posts, but doesn't have that kind of energy right now?
Angel gets his own entrance post, that's what.
So: Couch by fireplace, pizza, fuzzy gender line - standard fare, for Angel. Have at.

(OOC: Tags may occasionally be slow, as am a bit scatterbrained and theoretically getting useful stuff done. But yes.)

Comments

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

Oh, look. Oblivious filmmaker surrounded by empty recepticles of caffienated beverage inna corner. It's an amusing sight if nothing else.

[the_antiangst]

"...Don't tell me your default response to getting sick is staying up all night."
Sure, Val mentioned that Mark might've found a cure for the cold somehow, but Angel's not taking any chances.

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

"Huh? Oh, I got rid of the cold. Lovely wizards we have around here." He's a bit distracted by a lovely shot of Faith in the rafters. "One sec...." He watches for a moment, then stops the film, making a mark, then turning around. "Sorry 'bout that. Trying to get this all in some semblance of order."

[the_antiangst]

"Yeah, Val said something about you having steam coming out of your ears last night, or something. And then we got distracted by the TV."
Angel grins, at the comment about the film. "And is that even a manageable task, by now?"

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

"Er, yeah." Mark turns pink. "Strange by-product of the potion I drank. It went away after a while." Pause. "TV? There's a TV in this place?" He deftly side-steps the film-management issue.

[the_antiangst]

...Angel's going to take that as a 'no, it's not possible' until corrected, you realize.
"Apparently. And the thing gets all kinds of weird shit."

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

Frankly, it's less possible than Mark realizes. Poor boy.

He raises an eyebrow, however. "Oh? And what kind of wierd shit does it get?" Pause. "And why were you watching TV anyway?"

[the_antiangst]

"Started with this really horrible Spanish soap opera that my mother used to watch and got stranger from there. And the TV came up in the first place because it occurred to Val that the Osrics are televised."

[bohemian-mark.livejournal.com]

Mark laughs, shaking his head. "I don't really want to know what some of the other things were. Multi-versal TV rather scares me." He pauses, and then turns slightly pale. "Oh, fuck, they are." Mark's head meets his equipment. "Lovely."

[sto-helit.livejournal.com]

Pizza? That's a new one for Susan Sto Helit.

"Pardon me--but what are you eating?"

[the_antiangst]

"Pizza. Basically, bread with cheese and some other stuff thrown on it and then baked. Usually there's tomato sauce involved, but I've found it doesn't really go with the pineapple."
Considering Angel's pizza toppings of choice are pineapple, bacon, and extra cheese... it's a new thing for most people, even when they know the general concept. He's gotten used to explaining, more or less.

(OOC: No promises just now, but Imp might be in later tonight.)

[sto-helit.livejournal.com]

Ah, Hawaiian. Mun loves it, can't understand why everybody else hates it. "May I try some?" Susan asks hesitantly.


[ooc: I'm all ears!

...Well, there might be a nose and some feet in there too. But I am definitely interested. ^^]

[the_antiangst]

"Sure. Bar regularly gives me more of the stuff than I can eat by myself - think she's trying to get me to share. How've you been?"

[sto-helit.livejournal.com]

"Better--now that the music's gone." Susan returns his smile with a small one, dropping into a seat nearby. "Not quite as exciting, though."

[the_antiangst]

"I don't know about not exciting - rarely a dull moment around here, if ever. But I definitely hope we've seen the last of the music. One afternoon of my best friend thinking he was me is quite enough."

[sto-helit.livejournal.com]

"He thought he was you?" Susan is brought up short by this, blinking with surprise.

[the_antiangst]

Angel nods. "And vice versa. That was... really fucking weird. And I'm just glad we weren't too late in getting the stuff out of here."

[mr-shipbuilder.livejournal.com]

There's able near the fireplace with notes, deckplans and scraps of paper scattered on it, as well as a nearly-middle-aged shipbuilder, working outthe crick in his neck sitting at it. Looking up to stretch his neck, he's looking dirctly at Angel, though not really seeing him. His brain is seeing someone in a skirt, after all, so as his mind is otherwise occupied, he won't realize he's looking at someone he knows.

Yet.

[the_antiangst]

The voice might tip him off, though; Angel doesn't bother to change the inflection that much.
"Oh, hey! You been settling in all right?"
...This is more than likely going to require an explanation. But that's nothing Angel hasn't done before, so.

[mr-shipbuilder.livejournal.com]

Thomas's gaze sharpens as he realizes someone's talking to him. Angel, specifically.

Who happens to be the person in a skirt.

Thomas blinks a few times. This is well beyond his comprehension. He's not unaware that men occasionally do such things--but as college students for some kind of lark, or in vaudeville. Not when they're just idling around in a public place.

"Uh...yes," he says, after a moment, "Though there's a great deal to adjust to."

[the_antiangst]

Angel grins. "Yeah, I can see where there would be."

[mr-shipbuilder.livejournal.com]

"Indeed," he says, a little distantly. "Do you often, erm...?"

[the_antiangst]

"What, the skirts? Pretty regularly, yeah."
Said like it's no big deal at all. But for Angel, it isn't, so.

[mr-shipbuilder.livejournal.com]

Usually Thomas can be very tactful; one has to be, when dealing with the stuffed-shirts that he does in his work.

At the moment? Not so much.

"...Why?" he asks, curiously, after a moment.

[the_antiangst]

"Why not?"
Thomas is more than welcome to ask for clarification on that, but really, that's the heart of the answer.