newroutines | Mansion on Phoenix Way, Thursday Evening

Mansion on Phoenix Way, Thursday Evening

Mike had kind of forgotten to celebrate his birthday.

Yeah. Really.

It'd been the 26h of April, smack dab in the middle of a stressy streak of just trying to get some orders out. And then he'd just... He didn't even know. Maybe it was the fact that it was his 35th birthday that had had him just blocking it out until now.

It just felt like he had a day to relax, here. So, fuck it. He had beer and he could play music as loud as he wanted to. If he wanted to spend a while grooving to some tunes in his living room, he could.

Wasn't like birthdays he'd had in the past, but it didn't have to be. Hey, it wasn't even really his damn birthday.

[ooc: Ooooopen for visitors!]

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The trip to Baltimore had netted Verity progress into the semi-finals, a long chat with a boogeyman who'd agreed to stop lurking in the basement of a human-inhabited apartment, and a box of delicious homemade donuts from a family of Madhuras. Since today was already clearly a win for her, Verity figured she might as well top it off with a visit to Mike's place--especially since she had homemade donuts to share.

"Knock knock," she called, tapping on the front door.

See, when you basically lived out in the woods the way Mike did, and hadn't invited anyone over, and you'd decided to play some music a little louder than necessary... Yeah. He didn't hear a damn thing.

She was probably going to have to do a little more than that.

All right, if tapping wouldn't do, maybe a solid knock would. She grabbed a donut out of the box and took a bite, then firmly rapped on the door.

Okay, he actually heard that one. There was kind of a delay – he'd been pretty into what he was doing – but after a moment, he grooved his way out of the living room, and to the door.

Which he opened with a beer still firmly in hand, yeah.

"Verity, hi!"

That delay let her finish chewing and swallowing her donut bite, which was a plus. She licked her lip free of cinnamon and sugar, then smiled up at him. "Hey," she said. "Didn't mean to intrude on your private concert, but thought it might be worth seeing if you wanted company."

She held up the box of donuts. "I bought treats."

"Oh, man, I wasn't gonna let you in, but now that I know you have treats..." Mike teased, letting his words trail off at the end. "Well, it's a different story altogether."

It wasn't. But he stepped back, opening the door further, to let her in.

"Step right in, welcome to my humble abode." If you could call a mansion that. "Casa Lane."

"I see you and I grew up with different definitions of humble," Verity said as she brushed past him. "And besides, I said I brought treats. I might be to be convinced to share them."

"I can show you places where I haven't made repairs yet and where shit's falling apart," Mike offered with a lazy smirk, closing the door. "Maybe that'll make you see where the humble comes in."

He'd put in a ton of work on the house. But it was a big house, and he was just one guy who also had to work for a living.

"Who knows, you might see it so clearly you'll just pity me enough to give me some treats."

"I dunno," Verity laughed. "These are from a Madhura bakery. That would take a lot of pity. I might just offer to pitch in a bit with repairs instead. And then keep the donuts all for myself."

"Madhura?"

Yeah, he was going to focus on that, while gesturing her towards the living room. It was pretty easy to find: all they had to do was follow the music.

Verity did just that, hips swaying in time to the music even as she walked. It was impossible not to. "Good music choices," she told him.

Once in the living room, she set the donuts down on the nearest table and continued dancing while she explained. "Madhura are a type of cryptid, originally from India, though they've spread out from there. They look like humans and they have a genetic gift for pastry." She wasn't kidding about that. "They live on fructose the way humans live off protein."

She was willing to tell him about the Madhura population in general, but she'd made sure that they'd given her a plain box with no identifying marks on it. She highly doubted Mike was going to hunt them down, but she also wasn't about to take any chances.

Mike wasn't the kind to really hunt down anyone or even anything. But he'd also harbored werewolves in his house so he would've understood her reluctance.

But he had more general questions, anyway. "How the fuck do people develop a genetic gift for pastry?" he asked, after a swig from his bottle. "That's... really kinda specific. Or is it just because of the uh, fructose? Like, it's just the most convenient thing?"

"We don't even know whether Madhuras are mammals," Verity said with a genial shrug. "Anything more complicated than that are beyond us. But just try one of these donuts and tell me what you think."

"Oh, so now I don't have to jump through hoops to get one?" Mike asked – already reaching to grab one for himself, because it wasn't as if he wanted her to take that back. "Don't mind if I do."

"I couldn't in good conscience allow you to go a single moment longer without trying Madhura baking," Verity declared. "I'm a soft touch, I admit it."

Mike smirked at her. "I'll keep that in mind." Yeah that sounded like innuendo, with the tone of his voice. Sorry about that.

(He wasn't sorry. This was his kinda-birthday and he'd already had a few beers, and was in a good mood. A good-looking lady he'd already been intrigued by showed up? He wasn't going to hold back the flirting urges.)

He bit into the donut.

"... Okay this is fucking amazing."

There was nothing in Verity's expression or voice to suggest she didn't appreciate the innuendo, either. If anything, her smile just got a little more inviting.

"See?" she asked. "I know what I'm about with a lot of things."

Her excuse for how much innuendo she was using there was, uhh...he was hot?

It was true, he was. It was an acceptable excuse.

He was also wolfing down the donut because it was seriously good.

"You're going to make me curious," he informed her, licking his fingers once he was done.

Verity...probably stared at his fingers longer than she should have. Oops. "Am I now?" she asked, remembering to look at his face. "Hardly the worst thing in the world. They say curiosity killed the cat, but the less well-known followup is 'satisfaction brought him back.'"

Mike chuckled. "That's kinda cheesy, I have to tell you, Verity," he said, tsking. While also giving her a quick wave with his fingers, because he'd definitely noticed that, and because... he was a cheesy dude when the mood took him.

"I can dig it."

"Hey, no pointing out how cheesy I am if you want another donut," Verity told him, helping herself to another. "So, is this how you spend all your weekends?"

"No. Usually I work on the weekends."

And also on weekdays. He needed to do days off a little more often than he did.

"I mean, that's kinda why I'm having my birthday like over two weeks too late." Had he not mentioned that before? Yeah, he hadn't.

"Your birthday?" Yeah, he definitely hadn't mentioned that! "Two weeks ago? Damn and here I am without a present."

Except the donuts and, whoa, that was just crazy talk. She'd have to think of something else to offer him instead.

"Can I ask how old you turned?"

"Thirty five."

He shrugged.

"It's not that big a deal."

"Yeah, my family doesn't do much for them, either, except the really big ones," Verity said, neglecting to mention that birthday celebrations had often involved new traps or lessons, like the time Antimony had poisoned the birthday cake. Her family stories were a little weird, even for the island. "But I'm not going to argue with a dance party to celebrate. Might complain you kept it to a dance party for one, but won't argue."

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