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hadriel_logs2016-02-01 11:54 am
krangke) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-02-01 11:54 am
Entry tags:
you got a friend in me
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.
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.
no subject
Are you bloody serious right now?
[he pokes a toe into newt's stomach, but doesn't actually make any attempts at escape. he also doesn't notice that he picked up newt's slang. whoops.]
The princess doesn't really need to be this pretty. Glorified shoe laces are really not necessary.
[why does he have a feeling arya is going to find them super necessary?]
no subject
She slips back into her court accent, consonants hard and crisp and vowels over-enunciated. ]
But my good lady Peter, is it not traditional for a person of your station to wear their house colors? The, ah...green, red, and violet of house one-four-oh-two? 'Tis a proud tradition, my lady, and you do us ill to spurn it.
[ Arya begins weaving the thinnest of the green laces into the braid. Her sister was always better at this sort of thing, though, and Peter looks more like a mess than a princess. ]