Baby, you're drunk and acting tough. I know you're sad you're not the only one who feels like that…

[nowinprint]

{Kashtta Tower party thread!}

It's about four thirty in the afternoon on a nice, sunny day when Dmitri Lang strolls up to the front door of the Kashtta Tower and kicks it. Hard

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[twdenmother]

Ianto is, of course, one of the first people down, heading to the cafeteria with an annoyed expression which quickly changes to bemusement when he notices that there is, in fact, pizza for everyone.

Bemusement then changes to a distinct sense of understanding when he notices who appears to be responsible. All right, truly staggering quantities of pizza are several levels beyond dragging random Torchwood employees off for some drinks, but it's still not something he'd put past Dmitri Lang.

"I should've known you had something to do with this," he says, examining the variety of available pizza with some care.

[nowinprint]

Dmitri has made her way to the cabinets and is hunting for paper towels - who needs plates? - but she turns back and grins in Ianto's direction.

"Pizzeria Uno, home of the Chicago deep-dish pizza, had big trivia contest a bit ago," she says, hopping off the counter she'd been kneeling on. "You know who's great at trivia? Angels of Knowledge who grew up in the city you're asking about, and I almost qualify."

Abandoning the hunt for napkin-y things, she heads back to the food and flicks one of the boxes with her fingernail.

"The Farmer's Market is ridiculously good, if you're not in a meat-eating mood," she says. "And if I ever meet the folks who discovered caramelization, I am going to kiss them. And then probably wash my mouth out with alcohol because I do not trust the hygiene of those times."

[twdenmother]

That gets a genuine smile out of Ianto. "You are a goddess," he says, in an appropriately grateful tone. He might not be incapable of eating meat, but one of the side-effects to faunhood (faundom?) is a distinctly herbivorous streak, and the pizza she pointed out seems like his very own personal heaven at the moment.

Yes, this means that Ianto Jones is, for once in his life, partaking of vegetables other than coleslaw. Will wonders never cease.

He just needs to get... He remembers abruptly that Dmitri was looking for something. "Oh, and depending on what you were looking for..." He points at various cabinets. "Napkins. Paper towels. Plates."

[nowinprint]

"Aha!" Dmitri hops up, pulling open one of the cabinets he indicated and dragging down a roll of paper towels. "Knew they'd be around here somewhere."

She steps back over to the table, plopping the roll down triumphantly between two boxes and surveying the spread as though it's finally complete. Which of course it isn't - there are no two-liter bottles of soda or cheap plastic cups to pour it into - but it's close enough.

"Should consider those little ticky-tape labels," she says, waving a hand back at the cabinets. You know, for all of the people who use the cafeteria and don't actually live there, so haven't memorized everything yet. Because that's totally behavior they want to encourage. "Or is that just asking for someone to go through at night and subvert them all?"

[neverinportland]

With all the chaos that tends to surround Torchwood, Juliet is mildly dubious of the promise of pizza. At this point, explosive candygrams (or... Pizzagrams) would probably not be out of place. This, however, doesn't stop her from investigating and when all looks to be on the up-and-up, she embraces the fact that she hasn't had pizza in... A ridiculous amount of time and promptly finds the one that has the mushrooms on it.

Pizza. It's for those days when you really don't need to think about the fact that there's an alternate version of Daniel Faraday running around and Ben Linus just fell through a Rift. Eventually, she'll have to deal with this... For now, there is pizza.

[definitivestep]

Sam wanders over to Juliet around the time that she's still staring at the pizza dubiously. "If it's from Dmitri, it's not drugged," he comments, with a very faint smile. "Except possibly with antidepressants. She just does these things." Usually he's the recipient of surprise alcohol from Dmitri more often than surprise pizza, but he's not going to argue with this.

...partially because arguing with Dmitri is a losing proposition right from the outset.

[neverinportland]

"I've heard," she muses as she gives her mushroom pizza a good onceover and then takes a bite of it. Sweet, cheesy goodness. The problem with being a very serious researcher with a rich husband for years and then getting stuck on an island without a Domino's in sight is that pizza is sort of an elusive myth. "I think, at this point, she could lace it with opium and I'd eat it. There is something to be said about comfort food."

She'd suggest that the Kashtta needs to stock up on said comfort food for times like this, but then they'd all get fat and go into diabetic comas or something.

[definitivestep]

Sam snorts a little, eying her for a second and then opening one box of pizza after another, scoping out options. Dmitri was nothing if not comprehensive with the pizza selection.

"You do realise that we have a phone and a street address. We can order pizza for ourselves any time we like."

[akablackkitty]

Marshall would have been down to answer the door, but he sort of got distracted pacing like a sad puppy outside Tosh's door, because she's been holed up in her room ever since... That thing with Jack, and he's not even sure if she has her headset on. He'd check, but he doesn't want to upset her more, and... Well, there's a Dmitri down in the cafeteria. If anyone could convince Tosh to come out, it's Dmitri.

So now there's a Marshall, valiantly ignoring the tantalizing smells of pizza so that he can wander up to Dmitri and say, "So, uh... Can I interest you in a mission to rescue a, um, certain fair maiden from her tower?"

[nowinprint]

Oho, it is a Marshall! It is a Marshall looking like a sad panda. (She never could figure out how Marshall managed to look more like a sad panda than Weiss ever did, but Marshall is a very talented boy.)

She hops up to sit one one table, swinging her legs and cocking her head to one side. "You're gonna have to excuse me for thirteen seconds while I try to decide who in Torchwood could possibly be considered a 'maiden,' but your answer is probably 'yes', my ailuropod. Am I to slay a dragon or climb up somebody's hair?"

[akablackkitty]

"It's, uh, Tosh." He shifts uncomfortably, because half of him is wondering if maybe leaving Tosh alone is the best idea and the other half is going TOSH HAS BEEN LEFT ALONE ENOUGH- IT'S INTERVENTION TIME. "She's been, ah, kinda avoidant... Well, not so much avoidant- that's kind of taking it to a... Okay, she's been a bit avoidant."

Marshall makes a face that could properly be described as 'Help me, Dmitri Lang, you're my only hope.' "I figured, y'know, if anyone might be able to get her to come out and have fun... You might."

[nowinprint]

Dmitri slides right off the table again, grabbing her messenger bag and fixing Marshall with a terribly, terribly sincere look.

"You've come to the right place, my man," she says. She glances down just long enough to unzip an inner pocket and withdraw a set of shiny lockpicks, which she extends in a heroic point like a hero extending her sword. "I shall carry her down myself if I have to."

The lockpicks disappear into an outer pocket, easily accessible, and she claps Marshall's shoulder and expects him to follow as she takes off for the stairs.

"Seriously, though? Tosh has not yet realized that the cold glow of her computer screen is not a substitute for real human interaction? I swear, I get bogged down for a few weeks..."

[cyfor]

Cy also has a delivery for the Kashtta. It is not pizza. It is about twice her size, orange and fuzzy, and complains entirely too much for her taste.

Ivanhoe simply doesn't appreciate how interesting Chicago is, in Cy's opinion. So why not bring him to a bunch of other people who don't appreciate how interesting Chicago is? It makes perfect sense to her. Besides. Captain Mango belongs to him. Cy doesn't want Ivanhoe claiming her people any more.

Who knows how she got inside. Perhaps she negotiated with the Kashtta and made a truce. Either way, she comes marching into the cafeteria with her tail held high and a less-than-thrilled orange tabby in her wake.

[torchwoodsheart]

Gwen has been enjoying the fact that all of her team is in one place and it's not because something somewhere is exploding. It's rare enough that she'll take the time to enjoy it while she can.

Glancing around the room, she notices the cats entering the room, neither of which is Tosh's subconscious, and crouches down to address them. Gwen always liked cats. Never had one, because... well, with her job, she'd probably forget to feed the poor thing, but she likes them.

"Hi there, puss. Are you lost?" she asks, offering a hand to the nearer cat. The one not giving the entire room a death glare and looking like he'd really rather not be there. (Ivanhoe hates everything.)

[cyfor]

Cy sniffs Gwen's fingers politely, her ears swiveling practically in circles as she picks up every emotion and conversation in the room, as well as the words that haven't been said and might be said and definitely won't be said. Parties are always interesting. For a moment she's distracted from Gwen's question, but she gets around to answering eventually.

"Brought something for the lost and foundry. It's Captain Mango's."

[torchwoodsheart]

Gwen scratches lightly behind the little cat's ears as she looks around the room - and then starts as she speaks. She has the sense to not comment on that, and... well, she's been around LOLshadow. It's not so surprising. Still very odd.

"Captain... Mango? I'm not familiar with the name."

[prince_stupid]

Pizza topping.

There are few things in the world Ragnar enjoys as much as he enjoys pizza topping. Sealink introduced him to that marvelous delight, and while there are few very good pizza places in Tintagel, he is still drawn to the smell like a lint-covered magnet.

Hm. Lots of people. Also lots of pizza. He skips neatly onto a table and sniffs at an open box.

[lovencheezbrgrs]

LOLshadow, ecstatic that prittee Tosh is out of her room and around people again, has been bounding around the room in an overexcited flurry of feline energy. No sign of Soozee as of yet, but that doesn't stop her from careening like a pinball off the legs of anyone who gets in her way.

Ragnar, don't mind the thinner-than-usual grey cat bouncing up onto your table and staring at you for a moment before declaring, "Ur not a shadow." She may just be stating a fact, or she may have been hoping he might be someone else's subconscious cat. Which would also mean that Soozee was around... but alas, no luck there.

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar blinks at LOLshadow. "Indeed not. Though the blackness of my fur might suggest such a thing, I suppose?"

This little cat is too thin for Ragnar's taste. He sinks his teeth into a slice of pizza and ends up dragging almost half the box's contents onto the table. He licks his lips, fighting the urge to just sink his teeth into the lot and devour it. He sits back and licks his lips again.

"Little cat, what is your name? Have you tried pizza topping before?"

[lovencheezbrgrs]

"Im a shadow," LOLshadow announces cheerfully, sniffing at the pizza. She doesn't really... need to eat. Actually, the only time she's ever done it was at the Christmas party with Cy. That was good, though. "I doan has a naym. Im jus part ov pritee Tosh!"