Janni calls it "stress-baking" and is pulling three pies out of her oven -- apple, cherry, and blueberry. She hates being yanked out of her home for her own protection, even as she realizes how necessary it is. That doesn't mean she has to like it. At least this time, she huffs, she's not getting sent halfway across the world by herself while her Hound of God hubby battles the Forces of Evil.
She sets the pies on racks to cool and goes to work mixing cookie dough.
She's got flour across her nose and a large smear of something identifiable as "food" smeared on her apron. She waves an oven mitt at him. "Got apple, cherry, and blueberry, and homemade ice cream from the monks in the freezer. Help yourself while I put the cookies in."
"I think I'm going to get fat, here." But he's moving and cutting himself a big piece of cherry pie and topping it with icecream. He sits down at the large table and waves his spoon. "Pleasure. I'm Shane McMahon."
Well, close enough to an angel. He looks like an angel, all big black wings and humming "Good King Wenceslas" down the halls. But there's something perhaps more 'rough' about him. Unshaven, tanned, brown hair worn back in a ponytail for ease.
He offers Shane a grin and a thumbs-up in passing. "Don't think I've met you yet." His tone cheery enough, though in the back of his head there might be the slightest guilt: he's one of the reasons that Lucifer's on the prowl, causing all these people to be transplanted.
It's a good thirty minutes before Reynard is done double-checking all the security measures, and searching for bugs. Once he's sure the room is safe, he reluctantly heads outside to explore. It takes a little doing to avoid all the monks, but he manages.
The outdoors is still a new and confusing experience. He doesn't linger long near the beach before seeking out Shane. Finding him near food isn't a surprise.
"I officially don't trust the air. I can't see it," he announces, once he's close enough.
Shane just laughs. "City dweller. There's pie. And icecream. Also puffins, but they're not for eating. And Michael here's really pissed at one of the angels, it's amazing."
"What the hell is a puffin?" It sounds small and annoying, so Reynard's assuming it's some sort of ground squirrel. Snorting, he starts poking around in the kitchen, trying to get a feel for the place. "He's not pissed at ours, is he?"
"It's a bird." Shane shakes his head at Stingray. "And no. Not one I know, I just heard the rumbling of the weather as he got cranky. Also, we may be in for active duty. Possibly."
Comments 67
She sets the pies on racks to cool and goes to work mixing cookie dough.
Reply
Reply
Which she proceeds to do. "I'm Janni Lockwood."
Reply
Reply
Well, close enough to an angel. He looks like an angel, all big black wings and humming "Good King Wenceslas" down the halls. But there's something perhaps more 'rough' about him. Unshaven, tanned, brown hair worn back in a ponytail for ease.
He offers Shane a grin and a thumbs-up in passing. "Don't think I've met you yet." His tone cheery enough, though in the back of his head there might be the slightest guilt: he's one of the reasons that Lucifer's on the prowl, causing all these people to be transplanted.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
The outdoors is still a new and confusing experience. He doesn't linger long near the beach before seeking out Shane. Finding him near food isn't a surprise.
"I officially don't trust the air. I can't see it," he announces, once he's close enough.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment