Under One Roof


colette_icon.gif doyle2_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif sable_icon.gif tasha_icon.gif

Also Featuring:

hailey_icon.gif lance_icon.gif mala_icon.gif

Scene Title Under One Roof
Synopsis As a part of her responsibilities with the Ferry, Colette organizes Magnes, Sable and Tasha to help out at the Lighthouse and Doyle finds the group's appearance a (mostly) pleasant surprise even if at times it more feels like he's babysitting them.
Date May 4, 2010

The Lighthouse

When you leave Colette in charge of anything, there's bound to be something that goes wrong.

Unexpectedly, in the full twenty-four hours it's been since she was given charge of three youths and told to help man the Lighthouse in Gillian's absence, nothing has fallen over, burned down, or crumbled to dust. The fact that come Tuesday around noon that everything is in fine working order, the children aren't crying, injured or dead, and Magnes is watching Return of the Jedi with them on the sofa in the living room is by and large a smashing success.

The Lighthouse isn't just a place maintained by these four ne'er-do-wells though, but a congolomeration of Brian's efforts and the often times direct shepherding of one Eric Doyle. Word of the arrival of help for the Lighthouse while Gillian is away in Las Vegas was something Eric knew, exactly who was going to be volunteering was not a divulged piece of information.

Eric missed day one due to a Monday trip out to McRae's safehouse, a trip that normally only takes thirty minutes by car has become a full day adventure because of the snow and the weather, but the necessary delivery of supplies to the old Shaman's home is a responsibility Eric has been entrusted with for a long enough time.

On returning to the Lighthouse on this snowy Tuesday morning, it's to the unconventional greeting of cheering Ewoks and a fair bit of jub-jub going on from the television, along with Mala's giddy, squealing laughter. She loves the Ewoks.

Less enthused by the movie, Lance had snuck off well out of anyone's notice, the young dark-haired boy has found his way towards the stairs by the time Doyle's opening the front door with a gust of freezing cold air. He pauses, like the cat that ate the canary, staring up at Eric with blue eyes wide. He must have been planning on doing something bad since he froze like that. Always into mischief that one.

At the same time, coming down the stairs, Colette Nichols and Tasha Oliver are perennially late to rise from the looks of things. With the clock only just now striking noon the brunettes are still in disheveled flannel pajama pants and sweaters, hair all messed up and somewhat distracted looking.

But there's one more… somewhere.

God only knows what trouble Sable is getting into now that she's back at the Lighthouse.

It's not an easy trudge up to the doors of the Lighthouse, given the massive piles of snow that seem to keep coming down, but it's certainly helping Eric Doyle get into shape. Sure, the shape in question is 'pear' but at least is made up of more muscle and less fat than it once was. The bearded puppeteer's wearing a knit black cap and a heavy woolen winter coat that looks like it was dug out of a Goodwill bin - and probably was - as he pulls open the front door with a whistling howl of chill wind.

A broad grin's flashed to Lance as he sees the mischievous silencer looking up at him. "You'll have to get up earlier in the morning to pull one off on me, kiddo," he declares, ruffling Lance's hair as he steps in, shrugging a duffle bag off his shoulder and turning to pull the door shut as he calls out, "Hey, it's me!"

Tasha's pj bottoms are a riot of her favorite colors, black with green Girs and purple starbursts that clash with the borrowed red hoodie that belongs to Colette. She grins at the sounds of Mala's squeals, though one hand comes up to rub her eyes a little wearily. "Hey, it's floatie boy. How's it hanging?" she tosses at the young man on the couch. "Please tell me there's coffee… you want coffee or cocoa, Colette?" she asks, turning to look at the other girl with a smile.

The door's opening ruffles her short hair and she turns to look at the door, nodding to the puppeteer she hasn't met properly yet, before her eyes fall on Lance suspiciously. "Hey, it's you!" Tasha says cheerfully to Doyle and continues her trudge to the kitchen for something hot, and more importantly, caffeinated.

The call to the Lighthouse is an excuse for Sable to bring her dependable old acoustic into play, a throwback to the summer camps she never attended in the childhood she never had. Her grip on it on the way over was possessive, a careful balance between delicate and desperate. What concentration was not spent in keeping her beloved instrument safe and sound was directed towards trying to think of ways to abort the curses that naturally rise to her lips, the product of a natural vernacular. The results… well…

"Naw, naw, it's the drekkin' whale that's king of the beasts," Sable insists. She has snared Haily and, after a brief attempt to suggest a lesson in music, was quickly distracted into a debate over which animal was the best, a conversation that quickly devolved in the best of ways, "I mean… like… y'know. It's huge! And it's drekkin' smart as heck. And it /sings/. And not like birds sings, 'tweet tweet tweet'," she plucks her guitar, which rests on her knee, high notes to go along with the bird sounds, "But like real songs. I… can't really play 'em, but /that's/ what makes whales the best. Biggest, smartest, singers. You think a /lion/ can sing? Drekker just lounges around in the sun, takin' breaks to mebbe… I dunno… eat someone."

The blonde haired girl views Sable with all due skepticism. Sable, with her back resting against the couch, facing Haily, doesn't at first spot the descent of the two girls, but when Tasha's voice rises into the air, she perks up. "Hold yer thought…" Sable says, lifting a finger at Haily, whose mouth was /just/ opening to deliver a rebuttal. The yellow eyed girl stands up, peering around. She spots Colette, gives her a salute, and then catches the retreating back of Tasha as she heads into the kitchen. "Uh… introductions?" she suggests.

"Now remember, you've gotta hear both sides of the story. This movie might want you to think it's all black and white, but you've gotta remember that the empire has established an entire government, they're not technically doing anything bad, the rebels started it for no real reason at all! Sure, the Sith are technically evil and have done a lot of bad things, but considering peace was coming to the galaxy and all… And don't forget, there are grey jedi, they're not good or evil." Magnes explains, trying to make sure the children have a full education in Star Wars when he's not hammering math and astronomy into their heads. "Hey!" he waves over at Tasha, then gives Doyle one of those uneasy nods. He's in a long-sleeved white shirt with a picture of Jar Jar Binks on it, with a red circle and a dash across his face. No Jar Jars indeed. Other than that, he's just got on some simple blue jeans and black snow boots.

Day one was a bit jumbled, a bit chaotic and a bit— lacking in several areas. That Colette dodged the somewhat awkward bullet of introducing Tasha and Sable isn't surprising, not one bit. Eyeing Sable again, she continues that somewhat awkward trend of ignoring problems and hoping they go away by sheepishly turning her attention to Doyle a bit distractedly as he comes in, pretending as though she just noticed Doyle coming in only then.

"Hey!" Colette squeaks as she bounds down from the stairs, slipping past Lance and wrapping her arms (mostly) around Doyle in a leaping embrace. "How's life in the north pole?" Colette teases with a crooked smile, falling down onto mismatched socked feet before rising up on her toes and brushing snow off of Doyle's jacket with a swat of one hand.

"I— " Colette realizes mid-sentence that Tasha asked her a question several long moments ago, and she lets out a yelp of a squeak, turning to look over in the direction of the brunette. "C— Coffee!, please?" Colette calls out with a bit of a sheepish cast at the end there, turning from looking over to Doyle to offer a look over at Sable, then over her shoulder to Tasha, then around to Magnes before she offers up one hand, a fingers raised in an uno momento gesture to the big man as she sidles off to bring Sable aside.

"That," Colette motions towards Tasha, taking Sable by one arm as she does, "is Tasha," her voice is hushed and conspiratorial as she offers a green-eyed look back to the musician, "my uh— you know— " it's hushed, for the sake of awkward questions by the kidsm "my girlfriend."

"Your what?" Is the immediate question Lance asks, having been standing behind Sable and Colette silently.

Goddamn him.

Oh god, incoming Colettejectile! Doyle's eyes widen a bit at the charge, and then he laughs, half-catching her in one arm and smacking a kiss to her forehead before stepping past, shrugging out of the snowy-wet coat and hanging it up on a hook, revealing the shirt and suspenders outfit he's wearing beneath. "You kids all been behaving?"

He may be including the recent influx in that question.

Then he pauses, looking between Tasha and Colette, both eyebrows leaping up in a bemused expression. "Girlfriend?" A slow grin, "Nice."

The awkwardness is at least at a minimum as Tasha is blissfully unaware of the whispering behind her back, now in the kitchen getting two mugs of coffee, adding enough cream and sugar that both are as sweet as hot cocoa anyway. She pads back out to the living room area that seems to be the hub activity. She hands one of the mugs to Tasha, and then arches a brow at Doyle and Sable.

"Hey. Coffee? It's likely to put you in sugar shock, but either of you can have this cup, and I'll go get another," she offers, holding out the mug for either to take. Her hand goes out as well, first to Sable, then to Doyle — for once without her striped fingerless gloves.

"I'm Tasha," she says brightly, having missed the fact that her new relationship status has been revealed to all, without even needing to put it on Facebook.

"I know whales can sing, I'm not stupid," Hailey insists, "But that's not the point. Lions have always been the kings." A notion instilled with no small help from Disney, certainly. "They're also the second biggest cats in the world." Sable, unable to escape even the meanest of arguments, wheels around, fixing Haily with one heck of a look, "That ain't no good reason. Being big, or being in charge. Changin' bosses is… it's important!" For reasons! That she could explain! With songs! Maybe!

The appeal in talking to Sable is likely twofold - she doesn't talk down to kids, and she'll never fall back on 'because I say so'. She'll argue any stupid point to the end (or lack thereof). She wrinkles her nose at Hailey, "This ain't over!" Sable declares, "Not until one of us changes our drekkin' mind, you dig?" "Dig what?" Hailey asks, challenge creeping into her voice from the supposedly suspended argument. Sable splutters in reply, "I… just you hold on!"

There is crucial information being conveyed, and Sable needs her neurons capable of receiving it. She lets her guitar hang by its strap as Colette draws her aside. The explanation produces /two/ reactions, one swiftly following the other. She narrows her eyes, and her nose twitches as she sniffs the air. Tasha's reappearance from the kitchen gives those narrowed eyes an object to view, and they cut up and down the other young woman.

Sable does not break her gaze, but her lips purse before producing a low whistle. "Just one thing t'say, hon," she murmurs to Colette. Her eyes finally turn to Colette, "/Well fuckin' chosen/." Her smile is wicked. "Get the fuck over there," she says, hip checking Colette lightly before turning around and confronting Lance. "Your face," she replies, glowering at him. Good one. "But hey, help me out there…" she thumbs over at Hailey, who is patiently waiting for Sable to resume the discussion, "who do you think is the king of the beasts?" "The T-Rex," Lance states, as if it were a matter of inarguable fact. Not an opinion. Probably even proven by SCIENCE.

Politeness intrudes, and Sable quickly makes to shake Tasha's hand, her face serious. "Sable," she says, "You live here? With the, like, midget army?"

"The king of the beasts is Monodon Monoceros." Magnes states, standing up and patting Mala on the head as he moves to sit on the arm of the couch and face the other adults. "The Narwhal is an odontoceti, or, toothed whale, with a helical tusk on their upper left jaw, wieghing up to sixteen-hundred kilograms, with a two to three meter horn on their head. You do the math."

Lance just squints at Colette after elucidating Sable on the merits of the T-Rex as king of beasts, it's a knowing sort've expression he offers that comes with both age and intuition, though Lance lacks either of these so probably Brian or perhaps even more likely Deckard's — when he was here, at any rate — attempt at juvinile education.

Colette grimaces slightly, looking down at Lance with a I swear to God if you— expression on her face, only to finish that horrified look towards Doyle with a —say that one more time I'll slap you stare of wide green eyes. Swallowing nervously, she takes a step away from Doyle and looks over at Sable, her lips creeping up into a somewhat hesitant smile before she flashes a look over to Tasha, teeth toying with her lower lip, coffee cradled in both hands.

"Yesterday was… hectic. M'sorry I didn't introduce you guys. We got in here so late, and I haven't even gotten a chance to take you down to meet McRae yet." Huffing out a tired sigh, Colette turns and offers a look over to Tasha, leaning her head in a nod to Sable. "Tash, this is Sable a— a good friend of mine. She's got some bitchin' taste in music, I uh, I hadn't ever listened to Pink Floyd before. She— totally got me into them." It's as subtle of an inclusion about something left unspoken as Colette is going to give.

"Our guest of honor who is going to keep his comments to himself is Eric," she skips the Doyle part, he always seems to wince when she offers it, "and he's like the nicest guy in the world so don't ever treat him wrong, mn'kay?" Both of Colette's brows lift up as she gives that glowing remark, prancing to one side on her toes in an odd gait before coming to settle down on the arm of the sofa, leaning to hoop an arm around Magnes' shoulders as she stretches across the couch, mindful to balance her coffee.

"The dictionary of useless facts is Magnes, he's also a friend of mine and totally saved my life like— what— three times now?" There's a lopsided smile as she leans just a little bit away, ruffling one hand over Magnes' head. "Magnes can also totally fly. It's pretty awesome." There's a look to Eric, and Colette creeps her lips up into a toothy smile. "Did Gilly tell ya that we're staying here all week to help out?" All week.

At the compliment, the perceptive might notice a hint of wistful sadness in Eric's gaze for a moment — swiftly pushed away with a grin and a chuckle as he shakes his head, "I didn't say a word, bright eyes, not - a - word."

Once he's finished shedding his coat - and other things - Mala goes rushing over towards him with a gleeful declaration, "Santa!" That call turns Doyle's grin honest and wide, and he catches her up in one arm, hefting her up in against his upper arm where she perches triumphantly, even as he looks over to Colette. Then the others. Heavy-lidded eyes look dubious. "…no, I think she forgot to mention."

He's going to need some xanax for this week.

Tasha brings the much-needed coffee up to her lips to take a swallow through pursed lips, slurping just slightly to avoid getting burnt as her brown eyes flicker from person to person as Colette gives the directions. "Pink Floyd… Dictionary… Santa. Got it," she says with a slow nod toward each in turn. Her cheeks color at Sable's wicked smile and what she catches of her comments to Colette.

She offers Magnes an extra smile — anyone who has saved Colette earns her tacit gratitude — before her eyes flicker back to Colette and she gives a little shake of her head.

"You never listened to Pink Floyd before? We're going to have to educate you properly, as I'm sure there are other holes in your education that need filling if you missed out on such a historic and profound achievement like Pink Floyd," she says with a smirk. "And for reals, Magnes? I can't do that math — you expect her to?"

Sable extends a finger under her chin, voice utterly grave as she says to Tasha: "This face? Remember this face. Yer gonna see it everywhere. I'm gonna change the f-" whoops, "-riggin' world." After a moment's thought she points at Magnes, "And he's gonna help." Another pause, "You don't, like, happen to play drums, do you?" The question is more a 'just in case'. Let's be honest. There are no drummers anywhere, ever.

Sable casts a look at Colette, her expression the essence of ambiguity. But she nods. "Ain't nothin' higher than music, hon." Doyle gets a curious look as soon as he's addressed as 'Santa'. She points a finger at him, thumb upraised, then hammering down. BANG!

his display is almost enough to make Hailey seriously doubt whether or not Sable would ever return to their frank discussion of mammalian merits. Just then however, the yellow eyed woman returns her attention. She does not, however, resume the previous discussion. "You listen to music?" she asks, "Ever hear of the bang TMBG? They got a song 'bout a lion. Kinda a riff on a classic," she grins, "Kinda reminds me of a song Magnes'd write, huh, Magnes?" she casts a glance his way. Hailey shakes her head, "That's a weird name for a band," she observes. Sable nods. "Ain't their name. Just short for it. But yeah, their real name is also weird. A lot of bands got weird names."

"My point is that, it's a really big whale, and it had a horn, and can stab things." Magnes dumbs it all down, nodding swiftly. "I'd totally write a song about a lion, but it'd probably be a cyborg, or a magic lion with a dragon soul in its body or something." He smiles over at Hailey, motioning her over. "I think our band name's gonna be Serpentera."

"Magnes, you're as weird as— I don't even know," Colette explains with a giggle as she slides her feet down to the floor and eases off the arm of the sofa. Bringing her coffee up to her lips, she pads across the floor back towards Doyle, interrupted in mid stride by Tasha's teasing. "I— am— I am very musically educated." It's a bit of a lie, and Colette shifts her eyes askance as she looks from Tasha to Sable, then over to Doyle with a shift of her weight to one foot.

"I'm going to be taking everyone down to McRae's tomorrow, it's ah…" Colette offers a glance down to Mala, then back up to Doyle. "Magnes and Sable are gettin' their introduction to the Ferry." With all the things Gillian's said these kids have heard and seen, that's likely the least of their worries. "So— we'll be gone most of the day tomorrow, then probably back in the evening since Magnes can get us back and forth pretty quick. We just— have to bundle up like ninjas to avoid frostburn."

Toe-stepping over to Doyle, Colette sidles up to the big man and leans over, tilting her head to rest up against his shoulder before looking to Tasha. "If you're keepin' score… Eric saved me too. He— he really went out of his way to make sure I got back safe from— form um," COlette's brows furrow, eyes downcast to the floor before she just shakes her head. "I— I'll tell you about it later but— but Eric and Magnes both were like," she crosses her fingers, "like this."

"Santa, Santa!" Mala exclaims over Colette, "everyone has been so happy, but I broke the tele-vision," she verbally hyphenates the word, "remote 'cause of it, m'sorry." Sometimes she doesn't even know her own strength, though there's plenty of good vibes going around right now for her to feed on.

"Just be careful out there, we've got blizzards until Thursday…" A look between the younger folk, Eric's brow beetling a bit in open concern, and then he looks back to Mala with a bit of a grin, hefting her in a bounce as he heads for a couch to set her down, "It's all right, kiddo. We'll get another remote, or fix that one…"

"Ninjas of the Snowpocalypse," Tasha says with a grin at Colette's simile, dark eyes sparkling as she looks at Colette where she leans against Doyle. "There's a band name for you," she adds with a nod to Magnes and Sable. "No drums, not me, not if you wanted to be able to keep time or anything. I can play an iPod and I played the viola as a kid, but you know, I wasn't very good at it. I'm an artist if anything — not a musical one, but a paper and paint kinda one," she babbles.

"Blizzards until Thursday? What, and Friday is going to be sunshine in the mid '70s?" Tasha says, with a head tilt at Doyle and then a smirk at Mala. "Or you know, we can get up and turn it manually like we had to do when I was a … nope, we never had to do that. Maybe when he was a kid," she adds, with a jut of her chin toward the senior Ferryman in the room before taking another hefty swallow of coffee, perhaps striking fear as this is apparently uncaffeinated Tasha talking a mild a minute.

"This one's about a lion in a spaceship," Sable explains, as much to Magnes as to Hailey, "A silver spaceship, if y'need particulars. It's also about a guitar," she swings her instrument around, back into her hands, "Like this sucker, right here." She taps it lightly, producing a small hollow sound. "Mebbe I can play it later, if y'care to hear it," she shrugs. It's weird. She seems a little bashful at the prospect for whatever reason. "There a piano here?" she asks this of Colette, "Some sorta keyboard? For Magnes."

"And what's with the chicks on strings, huh?" Sable says, for Magnes' benefit, "I mean, not that I'd say no to a, like, chamber quartet of fair ladies or nothin'." She squints at Tasha, "Don't give him any ideas, dangit. I'm sure it's only a matter of God's drekkin' grace that he hasn't suggested callin' us the… I dunno…" she turns to Magnes, "What're they called again? Justice Team? Justice… uh… Gang?" She's talking about the JLA, of course, but even if she did remember their name, like hell would she admit it.

"Justice League, or in our case, we could be Young Justice. Wait a minute! We're Evolved, why didn't I think of this before!" Magnes suddenly stands up, having an epiphany as he walks over to Sable and places his hands on her shoulders. "We should be the New Mutants!"

"I don't know what I'll do with myself once sunshine happens, I mean— it— it's gotta, right?" Colette's lips screw up into a lopsided smile as she saunters away from where she'd been standing, making the rounds back to Tasha and Sable as Doyle goes to settle down with Magnes on the sofa. "Sunshine and warmth? I— don't think I've been to the beach since I was like, twelve, and that was out in like Revere Beach and I don't even remember it all that well. Oh man, we totally should— we could take all the kids to the beach once it warms up!"

Suddenly terribly excited about all of this, Colette's plan may likely devolve from take all the kids to screw responsibility after a long enough period of time. It's only when asked about the Lighthouse's musical hardware that Colette offers a sheepish raise of her brows, leaning her head to the side as she eyes Sable curiously. "Uhhh… I— I don't think so. I don't think, I mean— aside from what you brought there's anything like that here."

Stealing a glance at Tasha, Colette hides her smile behind the rim of her coffee mug, taking a sip as she continues to walk past Sable, circle around Tasha like a wandering housecat, offering a hip-check to the brunette before continuing onwards towards the living room, coming to stand beside the television on her toes, wavering from side to side as she stares at the credits scrolling across the screen.

"Magnes," Colette flicks a look over to the sofa, "Mutant is such a bad word I can't even— " Green eyes flick to the TV, then back to Magnes. "When we put the kids to bed tonight, I am so making you watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show." How that segued from anything is anyone's guess, not even Colette understands how her mind works at times. "I saw a copy of it up in Gillian's bedroom," green eyes flick over to Tasha and Sable expectantly, "tell me you've seen it?" Then, looking back to Doyle. "Tell me you've seen it?"

Not the most appropriate movie to be discussing around children.

"Of course I've seen it, but if you think you're showing it anywhere near the kids," Eric exhales a low, rolling chuckle as he drops himself down onto the couch, leaning back and stretching his arms up over his head, folding them behind his head as he smirks over in the direction of the others, both brows raising high on his endless forehead, "You've got another thing coming. Talk about it after they've gone to sleep, okay?"

The word mutant gets a narrowed eyed glance from Tasha as well, and she moves a hand to Colette's back when the other reprimands Magnes for the use of it. It does sound like a band name, and owning a name takes away power from those who would use it to hurt, but still, it still throws around a word in a flippant way that is tied to prejudice and hatred.

She chooses not to say any of that, of course, and just laughs. "Let's do the time warp agaiiiin," she sings. "Of course I have. There's a theatre up in Boston that does the show, fun times," she says, though there's a slight frown that contradicts her words. Another sip from the steaming cup of coffee is taken. "And I donno — I only played a string instrument because that's what they let us play in fourth grade. I was pretty horrible at it, so when they let us try something else in fifth I decided to focus on karate and soccer instead… sorry I can't add to your musical ensemble." Tasha offers a toothy grin at Sable. "But if you make a CD I can do the art for you — or if you do shows, I can make flyers?"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Sable exclaims, "Name like that'll just /ruin/ our, like, core fffriggin' market share. Boy, you gotta keep your eyes on the prize." She lifts a finger and pokes Magnes in the forehead /hard/, "Just look at that reaction. That'll p- er tick off Evos and non-Evos both. Damn son. You need to work on your business savvy!" This from the girl who had straight up hissy when he suggested she get a job.

Sable looks almost /suspicious/ as Richard O'Brian's deviant masterpiece is mentioned. "Yeah, just did," she says, "Perfect timing, hon. Don't folks dress up for it or somethin'? Somethin' I heard, is all." She shrugs. Tasha gets a nod, "How 'bout you show me what you can do, then we talk commission, huh? I've got a vision. And well… so does he," she'll wear out her thumb indicating Magnes like this, "You see things our way… or at least my way… mebbe we can work somethin' out." Her own grin matches Tasha's in it's dentation, "I'll make you beautiful and filthy rich if you let me."

"I think I'd be happy with whatever Sable's happy with." Magnes is quick to say, wincing and rubbing his forehead at the poke. "Sorry, I thought mutie was the racist term, not mutant, but I guess it is a bit much. Maybe we could, like, be Generation X. Or… Generation E! 'Cause we're Evolved, y'know? Or Serpentera, that's still awesome."

"Beautiful shes' got, filthy rich— " Colette offers a look over to Tasha, one brow raised, "I could handle that," she adds with a crooked smile. It's a bit awkward for her, being this comfortable around a large group of people and also having someone like Tasha here, but for Colette it's also an experience is growing emotionally around close friends, much in the way the Lighthouse kids are growing around everyone here.

Leaning towards Tasha, Colette slants a look at Magnes, nose wrinkling and brows furrowing. "Generation E…" she says quietly, teeth toying over her lower lip, "you— you know I like that." It's the first time she's openly complimented one of Magnes' crazy ideas, quite possibly because it's one of the first sane ones he's ever had, which of course precludes it from being crazy— mostly.

Dipping her head down to look at her feet, Colette shuffles mis-matched socks over one another, lime green clashing with magents in a way that makes them seem even more offensive since the lime green one is a toe sock and the other one is not. "You know," Colette says with a crooked smile, "I'm gonna' kind've miss this when Gillian gets back… this reminds me of the good ole' days."

Except three out of five people weren't here for that.

"If I squint real hard Eric even kinda' looks like Brian!"

Well, close is better than nothing.

"You could be the Transylvanian Transsexuals," Eric suggests casually as he relaxes back into the couch with arms folded behind his head, sinking slightly in against the cushions of it, "Or 'The Floor Show'." Mala promptly burrows in against his side, not paying attention to the conversation in preference to the television. The puppeteer looks down with a gentle smile, ruffling a hand through her hair, smile widening as she grins up at him briefly.

Then he looks back over to Colette, both eyebrows lifting as he chuckles heartily, "I do not look anything like Brian. Hah. I used to be in show business, you know. Well. Kind've, I guess. In, you know, a certain sense. I owned a theatre."

Tasha's cheeks grow a touch pink at Colette's compliment and she leans against the other, sipping more coffee and then suddenly looking sadly into her empty cup. "Generation E sounds pretty cool. Serpen… Serpentina? Serpentera? It reminds me of Panthera a little, and I donno, sounds like it should go with some hair band of the '80s, but 's cool if that's what you're going for. You know. You just need more… hair… if that's the case."

Tasha lifts her empty mug to Sable. "At least until you're, you know, making lots of money, I'd do it for free… or at least just the cost of supplies. I can do silk screening, too, so… you know. Merchandising madness, at your service." Finally her eyes flicker over to Doyle and she tilts her head. "What kind of theatre?"

Sable clamps hands over her ears. "No decisions are bein' made regarding band naming at this par-ticular juncture!" she exclaims, "I ain't in a fit emotional frrrrriggin' state to handle all this. Magnes…" she lets her arms drop and points at him. If it's not one digit its another, "Remember all these suggestions. We'll pour over 'em all fair and the like when we get a proper moment."

The yellow eyed girl ruffles her hair, then scratches the nape of her neck, glaring at a point in space somewhere in front of Magnes's feet. Tasha's suggestions vis a vis merchandising takes a moment to settle in, but when it does, she looks up, "You got yer, like… whatever? Artist's bigass folder around? I need to see your /stuff/."

"Portfolio." Magnes supplements for Sable, but raises an eyebrow at Doyle. "Wait, wait, everyone slow down." He holds his hands up, then walks up a little closer to the older man. "What exactly is a, uh…" He looks over at the children, then lowers his voice, "Transylvanian transsexual?"

"Tasha hasn't shown me her stuff yet," Colette says with a teasing tone of voice, bouncing up and down on her toes a few times, dark hair bobbing with the motion, "unless you count a fingerpainted fish on a subway wall," she adds with a wrinkle of her nose and a smile. "It uh, you know— she's— she's good." There's a raise of Colette's brows, a sheepish smile and an arm slowly sliding around the other brunette's waist, squeezing her over to her side, and using that coffee mug to hide her smile behind it.

Then, of course, Magnes asks the most amusing question of the evening, and all Colette can do is giggle fitfully, head shaking from side to side, cheeks raised and Mala — just because someone else is laughing — decides to burst out laughing too before looking up to Doyle with big, wide eyes.

"Santa, what's a transvestite?"

Gillian's going to be thrilled.

"Well, it was, uh…" Doyle hesitates, then probably loses all remaining 'cool' cred with the younger crowd as he admits to Tasha, tilting his head her way, "…a puppet theatre. It takes a lot of work to keep one of those running, though." Defensive? Maybe a little.

Then Magnes is asking that innocent question, and Mala asks an even more innocent question, the puppeteer flushes — and then lets out a bark of laughter like a hyena, ruffling Mala's hair and pushing himself up to his feet. "Something from a movie, kiddo— alright, I'm gonna go start cooking lunch. Try not to corrupt the kids too badly, alright?"

A puppet theatre. That gets a smile and a nod before the art-school dropout laughs at Colette's words. "You're biased," she says, leaning against the other with a grin. Tasha shakes her head at Sable in more serious reply: "Sadly, most my stuff's still back in Boston but when the weather clears up, I'll head back and grab it. I was kinda not expecting to stay long after I dropped off the pottymouth. Where is Paul anyway?" she looks around with an arched brow.

"I am going to go claim a shower," she announces, kissing Colette's cheek suddenly and handing her the empty mug. "Back in a bit."

Sable gives her guitar strings a few sharp slaps, then strums out a short, Spanish sounding tune, "Good night, and fair bathin'!" She declares, then throws Tasha the peace sign as she departs. She lets her guitar swing out of her hands again, done with it for now apparently. She also throws Doyle a salute, and gives a small snort. "Gaw. What little boy doesn't dress up in his mum's clothes sometime? Half the guys I've ever known got drunk and admitted to it."

"He's a really good puppeteer! You guys should see him." Magnes says as he starts heading to the kitchen, motioning a hand in the air for the children. He's also inclined not to ask further questions about vampire transexuals. "Who wants ice cream in the middle of a blizzard?!"

Sable gives her guitar strings a few sharp slaps, then strums out a short, Spanish sounding tune, "Good night, and fair bathin'!" She declares, then throws Tasha the peace sign as she departs. She lets her guitar swing out of her hands again, done with it for now apparently. She also throws Doyle a salute, and gives a small snort. "Gaw. What little boy doesn't dress up in his mum's clothes sometime? Half the guys I've ever known got drunk and admitted to it."

"He's a really good puppeteer! You guys should see him." Magnes says as he starts heading to the kitchen, motioning a hand in the air for the children. He's also inclined not to ask further questions about vampire transexuals. "Who wants ice cream in the middle of a blizzard?!"

"I do!" Mala chimes in, rising up from her seat with one hand raised, "Me, me, me!" Even Lance seems enthused about that, albeit silently from where he leans away from the wall, blue eyes darting from Doyle to Magnes and back again. If they're going to watch some movie he's not supposed to see later, he's totally going to sneak down and see for himself.

But right now the children's attention is focused on Magnes and his efforts to distract from the topic at hand. Mala's cheerful little smile and bouncing posture comes with a lopsided grin and a wrinkle of her nose, followed by a lean towards Magnes. "I'll arm-wrestle you for yours!" Mala exclaims cheerily and perhaps dangerously, if Magnes values keeping his arms with the good cheer flowing into her like it is.

Colette just offers a sheepish smile to everything, ducking her head down into a nod and letting green eyes follow the track of Tasha's depature towards the stairs and the shower. Dark brows furrowed, green eyes move towards Sable, and Colette's leaning away from the side of the television to pass by the musician. There's a look down at her, through the ragged fringe of dark lashes, lips creeping up into a smile that's a bit restrained.

"The letter… was very sweet," Colette says in a quiet murmur on her way past, leaving it at that as she walks across the living room floor on her socked toes towards the stairs. Everyone else is getting distracted into ice cream in a blizzard by Magnes, and a perfect distraction it is. Colette on the other hand, is going to be distracted by something else as she starts creeping up the stairs.

It suddenly occured to her that she could use a shower too.

Some things are better than ice cream.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License