Back at the clubhouse.

[Gunslinger]

Roy bit down the urge to laugh out loud, the crazy, happy laughter that always threatened to boil over when something really truly amused him. This whole situation with Lucas and Recluse... there was obviously something there, but the only person acknowledging anything was her. Lucas was impassive up until the moment he turned away and left.

Throwing a grin Dom's way, Roy took another swig of beer. At least Avalanche seemed to find him amusing. Recluse (he really would have to find out her real name) was keeping her face in a mask of anger. Something must have really happened to piss her off but good. He definitely didn't envy Lucas.

"So, tomorrow, eh? Getting out of here a lot sooner than I had expected. How long have you all been waiting around?"

[recluse]

The Look followed Lucas as he left, and she shook her head before taking a swig of beer.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough. Her jaw clenched for a moment before she spoke.

"Too fuckin' long."

Wandering over to Dom, Gracie leant on the bench and motioned at him that she wanted some dessert. She gave him a small smile. Dom wasn't the one that was being an asshole to her, after all.



[Rawr! Fear my craptacularness! Sorry all, muse is misbehaving.]

[avalanche]

Dom smirked back at Gunslinger, shaking his head and biting into the baklava. Unsure if it was the nostalgia talking, or the genuine flavor and substance of the dessert, he silently thanked his ma for how damn good his cooking was.

He also hoped that Gunslinger and Lucas would be getting along... so far some friendly ribbing was in order, so that was good – but he had to wonder how far Lucas' patience would go. The man was notoriously violent.

But is he? I haven't really seen him behave in a particularly violent way... well, 'cept for that whole steering wheel thing.

Still. Rumors like that didn't exactly come out of nothing, and Dominic Petros was an incredibly careful, calculating guy.

Gracie asked for the dessert, and he slid the plate over to her with the serving fork still in it. Tossing her a paper plate, he nodded to the inside of the fridge, still packed with Greek food, and looked to Roy. Man she seemed grumpy.

“Eat up man, going to have to toss it out tomorrow if it's still there.”

[Gunslinger]

Roy turned his head to look at Recluse as she spoke, his eyes sharp and cold for a moment. The grin never left his face, though, and he catalogued all the reactions people were having to everything. Everyone's layers were pretty clear here, Recluse being the most obvious in her distaste. Lucas was exceedingly more difficult emotion-wise, but even the fact that he was hiding them so carefully told Roy about him. Now he just wondered about the why.

Unless he didn't have emotions. But Roy found that unlikely.

Stepping over to the fridge, Roy peeked inside and grabbed the nearest dish. "So, you make all this yourself, Dom? Guess you're a pretty handy guy to have around the house."

[avalanche]

"Around the house, yeah, or if you need it destroyed. You know, whatever - I try to keep it versatile." He said. "Doesn't hurt to have a resume prime for life in the mutant liberation movement."

Hopping up to sit on the counter, he looked Roy over for a minute. The guy was a mystery. Didn't want to talk about where he was from, didn't want to talk about what he was doing joinging the brotherhood, and didn't like to talk about himself much at all.

In fact, it seemed he just plain didn't want to talk. Which worked for Dom. He ate his dessert calmly, watching the others.

Well. How about awkward silence?

"So, Lucas, Gracie. I miss anything exciting?"

[recluse]

"Don't. Fucking. Call me that, Dominic."

She didn't bother going into any detail about exactly what had and hadn't gone on while he was gone. Dom had made it pretty clear that he didn't think much of the idea of her and Lucas, and even though there wasn't exactly... well, a 'her and Lucas' anyway, as far as she could tell, it pissed her off even more that he'd ask.

I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions.

This time, Gracie did shoot him a Look. Accompanied by a slight baring of her teeth before she took another bite of baklava.

[impact]

"Jeez Dom," Luke seconded, stepping just behind Recluse to snatch a piece of baklava from the tray. "Only her Daddy gets to call her that."

Swallowing a piece after just a few bites, he nodded in mock seriousness. "Didn't know that was the kind of outfit you ran."

Shrugging, he smirked to keep from grinning as he washed the baklava down with a healthy swig of beer and went to sit on the couch.

"That's some fucking good... whatever it's called."

[Gunslinger]

A plate piled high with food in one hand, his beer in the other, Roy chuckled to himself. Gracie? Definitely not what I'd pictured.

"I make a mean pot of macaroni and cheese," he said, looking down at his plate. "Almost smells as good as this stuff here."

Snatching a piece of the desert off the table and setting it on top of eveything else, he walked through to the living room. "Balakavala, or something like that. I was never much of one for foreign languages."

Of course, he hadn't had the chance, but he wasn't going to tell them that.

[avalanche]

Dom held up his hands defensively, considering the idea of getting his legs fanged most unpleasant, “Sorry Recluse, slip of the tongue.”

He was grateful for Lucas, who turned the situation into a joke – at least he’d take some of the brunt of Gracie’s rage. Rather than addressing any of these issues, however, he went back to the Baklava.

“Baklava, but close enough Roy. Glad you like it… not close to what Ma made, but good enough for me.”

He also ignored the fact that Lucas and Gracie never answered his question… which was probably for the best.

The frustrated, angry face that Recluse was showing would have brought real fear into some people... Dom had known her to long. He knew that she wasn't dangerous when she had that face on... she was dangerous when she was grinning.

The thought made him smile at her, give her a wink, and pick his food up to head into the living room. Sometimes she was frustratingly cute.

"Yo Roy, you like that show Meatwave?"

[recluse]

Giving Lucas the finger over her shoulder, all she could do was shake her head.

Fucking boys.

This was why she didn't like telling people her name. She could run with them for five minutes or five years, it didn't matter. Almost everyone was an asshole in the end, and she didn't want them to have any more ammo than they already did.

Dom's apology didn't help, but his smile-and-wink routine helped even less. Shaking her head, she only followed far enough to lean against the dividing wall and look at the TV, her expression not improving any even at the prospect of Meatwave.

Fucking boys!

[Gunslinger]

Setting his beer down and eating carefully, Roy grinned. Sure, lots of people were unhappy with their names, but he hadn't met many who were so threatening about it.

This just got more and more interesting. She certainly seemed to be a time bomb... not unlike him.

Speaking of which, his fingers were starting to itch a bit, which meant that energy was starting to store up in his hands. Best to let that off as it occured; he didn't want to actually destroy the house around them.

"Can't say I know much about Meatwave. I suppose I'll get an education." He took another swig of beer. "Anywhere around here I can do some target practice?"