you got a friend in me

[krangke]

Who: Newt (krangke) Peter (werewolfing and Arya (whichend)
What: A giant sleepover with pizza for traumatized kids & co.
Where: Newt and Peter's house.
When: Feb 1st
Warnings: Probably just angry teenage boy swearing, bad influences on a young girl, making Peter exasperated with life, etc etc. Maybe mentions of gore via sweet story telling? Nothing much to cringe at here. Platonic cuddle fest probably at some point it could happen.


(The problem was that Newt didn't actually really know how to make pizza. It wasn't too hard to figure out though. Dough was easy enough to deal with. Let it rise and all of that- yeah, sure, he'd seen Frypan work with dough before. Sauce. Cheese. Then some pepperoni for half of the pizza just in case. Newt had evacuated the kitchen (aka had bossed Peter out and told him to wait out in the living room for Arya) and gotten to work on making the pizza. He'd rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands out and very quickly discovered that making a perfect circle out of dough was really note his forte. Peter was in for a treat of a whole lot of muttering and swearing coming from the kitchen.

Newt was a bit covered in flour. His hair was a mess and he'd had it in splotches on his face, his arms, and the gray henley he'd decided (poorly) on wearing. Which showed his own hand prints all over it from him constantly putting his hands on his hips in aggravation or patting his chest down in a really poor, pointless attempt at cleaning himself off. At last though, the pizza was made up and popped into the oven on a - not a pizza tray. A baking tray. He really hoped that didn't make a huge difference. At least he had hosed it down with some strange equivalent of Pam though. He finally makes his way out into the living room, giving Peter a look.)

Don't say a word.

(He threatens idly, holding up a finger that's a whole lot cleaner than the rest of him. At least he had washed his hands? Yeah........................)

She ought to be here soon.

(Which was really the most important part. Not the pizza. But Arya. She'd just been through a special kind of hell and Newt- Newt really empathized. He knew what it was like having the world fuck with you and of all people? Arya deserved it the least. He had been grateful to have been able to talk to her after the event itself but his concern had never really left. He didn't like not having an eye on her. It had helped seeing her during that strange hunting expedition though. They'd even managed to take down three horrific monsters together- as he had accounted to Peter in vigor, having been rather excited about the ordeal. He'd also taken down a smoker- a strange creature he'd spiked through with a spear of his with a single plunge. It'd been a pretty exhilarating moment in his life and just about when he'd met up with Arya.

On top of that, he'd gotten three things from the event. The watch, a pair of sneakers (which he was currently wearing- they were so much more comfortable than the sneakers from the Glade) and hot chocolate which he had been saving for this night. He'd given the watch to Peter as he had already had his own (slightly more advanced to boot) watch when he'd arrived in Hadriel. Besides, Peter had a knack for being obnoxiously inept with telling the time and so when Newt had thrown him the watch, he had done so with a pointed look.

He twisted his own wrist around to look at his watch before glancing over at Peter. He didn't look concerned mostly because he wasn't. Arya was obviously more than capable of taking care of herself. That and the city of Hadriel didn't really seem prone to having monsters wandering aimlessly at night. Even if it did though, he'd seen enough of the monsters in the cave to know that there weren't many in there that Arya couldn't take down herself.)

Hope you're ready for a princess transformation.

Comments

[werewolfing]

[peter holds up his hands in a preemptive gesture of defeat. he can't cook, he's not going to judge newt's pizza.]

Not a peep.

[which is, of course, saying something, but nothing about the pizza. peter looks at his watch just for the novelty of the thing--he's never worn a watch, and while it doesn't quite feel strange on his wrist it is a new weight there, the face of it tucked against the veins inside his wrist. it is, indeed, a time. perhaps arya is supposed to have arrived by now. he's used to telling the time of 'day' by the ambient light.

at the mention of princesses he gives a dramatically disgruntled sigh and blows the hair that's fallen in his face up and to the side. it helpfully falls right down again.]

I'm still a shitty princess. I want that on record.

[despite this, his ever-tangled hair is clean, because peter knows when he's doomed, and he's so very, very doomed.]

[krangke]

Well, we never said you'd make a good princess.

(Newt grins despite himself, rubbing a hand through his hair in a poor attempt at getting some of the flour out. He doesn't really know how it had gotten everywhere. He hadn't thought he'd used that much.

Another glance at his watch and a quick look to the door.)

I have time for a quick shower. Right?

(He's already wandering off to their room to get new clothes that aren't covered in flour and possibly sauce.)

[werewolfing]

This is just one of those things I'm never going to understand, isn't it? The irresistible urge to braid my hair.

[he sighs and shakes his head.]

How would I know whether kiddo runs early or late? Flour is such a good look on you, too. How the hell did you get it in your hair, anyway?

[krangke]

Kinda what you get for having such long, flowing locks.

(Newt shrugs a bit helplessly, as if to say 'what can you do?'

At the statement, Newt relinquishes one of the many things Peter has taught him since his arrival in Hadriel: an extended middle finger.)

No idea.

(He lowers his hand back down before giving his head a bit of a shake. IT creates a bit of a dusting of flour to fall off. At least it's not as bad as his shirt? Maybe?)

I've never really made pizza before- so-

[werewolfing]

They aren't that long or flowing.

[it's hard for him to sound genuinely mad about it when newt is busy giving him the finger and then shaking flour off of himself in a little white cloud.]

So wearing it is part of the natural learning process. I understand. This is why I don't cook. Well, that and you're better at it.

[krangke]

They're pretty long and they're pretty flowing. More than mine or Arya's.

(And because Peter doesn't actually sound mad, Newt doesn't feel much guilt on the matter.

He does offer Peter a half-hearted glare though.)

I've no idea why I keep you around, truly. Certainly not your personality.

That and you're lazy, mostly you mean.

(Except Peter isn't that lazy. Newt feels entitled to tease though.)

[werewolfing]

They definitely do not flow, except as compared to your fluff.

[peter snorts and tips an invisible hat.]

My charming good looks and long flowing hair, obviously.

I might be a bit lazy. Maybe a little. But you're definitely Mister Get-the-hell-out-of-my-kitchen-Peter.

[krangke]

I don't have fluff.

(He pointedly muses his own hair with a frown. Then he looks over at Peter, deadpanned expression in place.)

Obviously.

Because I don't trust you in the kitchen. You're hairy.

[werewolfing]

Does absolutely everything come back to my hair with you?

[it's impossible to tell from his tone whether he finds this amusing or ridiculous or maybe something else entirely.]

Either way, you can't complain about me not cooking if I'm not allowed in the kitchen when any cooking is happening.

[krangke]

I don't know. You seem just as obsessed with my hair so I don't feel too bad.

(He sounds rather smug himself here. After all, Peter nominated Newt as 'Blondie' since day one, so.)

I wasn't complaining. I'm grateful for it. I'm also still going to mock you for it.

[werewolfing]

It's just so very...blond.

[he waves a hand like that explains everything in the entire universe.]

Wow, grateful for my absence from the kitchen are strong words there for a guy who sleeps on my floor.

[he elbows newt gently in the ribs, and the words aren't spoken strongly enough to be truly insulting.]

[krangke]

Yes, and you're so very hairy. I think we're on equal footing here.

(Yuuup still giving Peter an blank look. Definitely judging you, Peter.)

You are much more tolerable when you're unconscious, is the thing.

(Comes his remark, his soft edged smile implying that he knew perfectly well that Peter didn't mean it in a cruel way. He even pushes back against Peter a bit with his own hand- well- shoving it at Peter's head briefly, lightly, before withdrawing his hand with a wider grin.)

[werewolfing]

Guess that means I don't snore.

[he rocks gently with the shove to his head.]

See, there you go with my hair again.

[whichend]

[ Arya shouldn't be nervous about this. Neither Peter nor Newt are particularly scary people, and all she's doing is going over to their house for some food and good natured teasing. That's it. Totally normal, totally ordinary.

Except that's the problem. She's never done anything like this before, not even before she had to run away. Social events were usually more formal, with introductions and courtesies and other things she never had much patience for. And after everything fell apart, friendships like these were simply out of the question.

She's considered asking Cashmere, or even Peter and Newt, if there's anything she should do to prepare, but she knows they'd just give her that uncomfortable little stare people use every time she asks about something that should be obvious.

She decides, eventually, not to do anything different with her clothes. Same set of trousers and a worn shirt, same oversized coat, same blue scarf. She still comes armed, two daggers in the inside of her coat and one in her boot. Arya doesn't take chances. She brings Needle too, not because she's worried about attack, but because she doesn't want to leave it unwatched for too long.

A few minutes after the appointed time, she gives their door a knock and waits with anticipation, shifting her weight from one foot to another fairly quickly. ]

[krangke]

(Newt had jumped in for a quick shower before Arya showed up so that he wasn't coated in flour by the time she did. He had exchanged his dirty clothes for fresh khakis and a dark red sweater that ran a bit loose. Simple as anything else he wears, really, so Arya's not about to be put off.

He's thankfully cleaned up and dressed by the time she arrives and just sitting on the couch with Peter, mostly making fun of the other boy. When he hears the knock, he's on his feet within seconds and strolling across the living room to their front door.

He swings it open a minute later, already grinning. The warm smells of a baking pizza flood out around him and maybe it's something that Arya's smelled before, maybe not, but it's a good smell either way.)

Hey.

(He greets, stepping aside and swinging the door open wide.)

C'mon in.

(Truth be told, Newt isn't really used to "hanging out" with people either. Not in the way Peter might be. He's used to just taking care of people. He lived with his friends so they kind of were just always together. This is fairly new to him as well, though he doesn't feel too awkward about it at all.)

Peter was just telling me about how he thinks pink would really suit his complexion.

[werewolfing]

Blondie is a dirty liar.

[peter informs her as drolly as one can when raising one's voice to call from another room. if anyone expected him to get off the couch, like he has manners or something, they were sadly mistaken. only the siren song of food will get peter off the couch.]

I'd expound upon that but he might deny me pizza. Hey, vara. How're you doing?

[whichend]

Hello.

[ Arya steps inside and smells the scent of baking pizza, even though it's not a scent she recognizes. There's the scent of dough, for sure, but there are other smells -- warm ones, and spicy ones that she can't place. ]

Is that pizza?

[ She gives Peter a little wave. ]

I think you'd look terrible in pink.

[ She says, as a greeting. Arya pads quietly into the living room and strokes her chin dramatically, like she's really considering Peter's perfect princess look. ]

I think you'd look much better in light green and floral prints.

[krangke]

It is.

(He confirms with a steady nod, closing the door behind her. He has the audacity to look mock-offended by Peter's accusation, making a short grunt as he walked after Arya.

He comes to stand at her side eventually, arms crossed over his chest and he tips his head curiously at Peter.)

Vara?

(But then Arya is speaking again and Newt's head swings from Arya to Peter and he lets out a short, bright laugh. His arms swing down and he clasps his hands together, drawing them up to his chest.)

Oh, yes. Peter would look lovely in floral prints and light green.

(This is exactly why he invited Arya over. She was excellent.)

[werewolfing]

Means girl cousin, except the short version.

[except then they're talking about fashion choices, and he wrinkles up his face.]

I was almost with you, because green is acceptable. But then you said floral prints. There will be no floral prints anywhere near Peter.

[whichend]

Aren't we supposed to be dressing you like a princess?

[ Arya asks, in mock confusion. ]

Besides, I knew a knight who loved wearing flowers. He was good at tourneys too, and very popular with many women.

[ She makes a face. Arya wasn't super into the knight of flowers, but her sister certainly was. ]

[krangke]

(Newt is still just snickering, his hand curved over his mouth as if he actually cares about being discrete with his humor.

He lowers his hand eventually and reigns himself in, smirking subtly now instead.)

Flowers do look good on just about anyone. Terribly charming things they are.

(He wanders around the back of the couch and gives Peter a light swat against the back of his head because- well why not? That's why. And proceeds into the kitchen to check on the pizza.)

[werewolfing]

Flowers are one thing. Flower prints are something else entirely.

[not that they really have any of either so that this is an entirely moot point, but still. when newt swats him he reaches back and gives his arm a random swing, to smack whatever his hand might come in contact with.]

Don't mind blondie, he's very rude. And you two have some funny ideas about what you're going to be doing this evening, but I never agreed to them.

[he hasn't disagreed either, strictly speaking, but shh.]

[whichend]

[ Blondie? Arya takes one look at Newt and snorts. It's a funny-sounding nickname, but Peter isn't wrong. Newt does have blond hair.

Arya perches herself on the couch's arm rest, smirking. ]

Don't worry, I'm rude too.

[ Being the middle child of six, and the youngest girl is an easy way to develop rudeness. ]

[krangke]

(Peter managed to get a good hit in at his arm but Newt merely retorted with a scoff. It doesn't take him long before he's joining them back out in the living room and he throws himself down onto the couch, crossing his legs.)

Peter's rude too he just likes to act like he isn't. That pizza's almost done.

(He tugs his legs up onto the couch and wraps his arms about them, looking over at Arya pointedly.)

Did you get anything after the hunting trip?

[werewolfing]

Peter never said he wasn't rude, just that you are.

[he waves his wrist in arya's direction, where there is now a watch that wasn't there before. he wears it backwards, the clock side on the inside of his wrist and the buckle on the outside.]

Look what Newt got. And some other stuff, but he already has a watch, so he so graciously passed this one on.