Completed OOC
WHO: Jan Valentine bitchin_beanie, "Jimmy Olsen"/Nightwing knightprodigy
WHAT: MMM DINNERTIME. Because Shadhavars are a little tricky to catch, and superheroes come a bit easier.
WHERE: Junkhouse Ramen
WHEN: Evening -- day after this thread.
Jan still had no idea why the guy would have volunteered for something like this. He was still half-convinced they'd misunderstood each other. And wouldn't that be incredibly fucking awkward, if the Olsen kid showed up with a pizza in hand and Jan just went straight for the jugular?
Well, no, not awkward as much as probably not likely to ever happen again. It was pretty likely one or the other would be dead by the end of something like that.
But with a bit of luck Jan didn't have to worry about that -- for once. The shop was both mostly empty and mostly repaired from the flood, so there wasn't much to do with it. Jan was currently seated in a lazy sprawl at one of the tables, amusing himself by flipping a coin he'd found somewhere, golden eyes tracking its progress with a magpie-like interest. His mind wasn't on the gleaming patterns it scribed through the air and over his gloved fingers, though.
He still didn't fucking get it. Go out of your way to pester a guy and it got you a free meal. What was wrong with this place?
WHAT: MMM DINNERTIME. Because Shadhavars are a little tricky to catch, and superheroes come a bit easier.
WHERE: Junkhouse Ramen
WHEN: Evening -- day after this thread.
Jan still had no idea why the guy would have volunteered for something like this. He was still half-convinced they'd misunderstood each other. And wouldn't that be incredibly fucking awkward, if the Olsen kid showed up with a pizza in hand and Jan just went straight for the jugular?
Well, no, not awkward as much as probably not likely to ever happen again. It was pretty likely one or the other would be dead by the end of something like that.
But with a bit of luck Jan didn't have to worry about that -- for once. The shop was both mostly empty and mostly repaired from the flood, so there wasn't much to do with it. Jan was currently seated in a lazy sprawl at one of the tables, amusing himself by flipping a coin he'd found somewhere, golden eyes tracking its progress with a magpie-like interest. His mind wasn't on the gleaming patterns it scribed through the air and over his gloved fingers, though.
He still didn't fucking get it. Go out of your way to pester a guy and it got you a free meal. What was wrong with this place?