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[somebodysdog]

They have meat.

Or at least, they had meat. It's sort of been eaten by now. And Angua's glad of it. She'd forgotten how much the smell of cooking meat can fill an area, how much it can fill her nostrils, and that part of her brain that wants it

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[crownedwithfire]

See, Hellboy had other prioritise. Like juicy dinosteaks. He just knew better then to eat it with Angua trying not to Smile at him. With teeth.

But now? He's in 202, having finished off that particular anti-girlfriend meal-- and when she enters, fetches the wine for her. He's a nice guy that way.

"How's Daff?"

[somebodysdog]

Aw, isn't he? She smiles - lower case s - warmly for the wine, and settles down comfortably on the couch.

"Good," she says, with obvious pleasure at that news. "She's getting visibly better now. Even managed a few steps earlier."

A small patch of now shrivelled moss in the courtyard is testament to that.

[crownedwithfire]

"Did she? That 'grail' thing," For Hellboy, devout Catholic, recognizes no grail that isn't the cup that held Christ's blood, thanks, "must be working, then. I hear tell that that it's purpose-- keepin' the local land clean."

He sits down with her, tail draping over the arm of the couch.

[somebodysdog]

"I don't know," Angua disagrees pleasantly enough, turning towards him conversationally with her wine-holding arm resting on the back of the couch. "She was improving before they got back. But it did get easier rather suddenly."

[kyoshifan]

There's a girl here making three-bean salad.

Actually, she's making faces over the vinegar, which has been aging for quite some time, and cuts the addition to the recipe by about half. "Phewf!"

[somebodysdog]

"That's the noise of someone who's actually smelled the vinegar," Angua remarks, twisting to peer around over the back of the sofa. "There's a bottle of Josh's old wine we left open somewhere. Try using that."

[kyoshifan]

"Yerk," Suki opines, shoving the offending liquid down the drain and following up with some water--not too much, they're rationing. "What's it still kept for? It smells like it could help get tarnish off, or maybe rust. . ."

[somebodysdog]

"The engineers won't let us throw it away," she confides. "I don't want to know what they're planning to do with it, though."