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To be honest, Vale's mind was pretty empty at the moment. He figured he might be in shock - coming back to Ciro's place only to stumble upon that.

Am I cursed?

It would make sense.

How else did he keep on running into Quinn, time and time again? Although this time it wasn't he who Quinn ran into first. It was Ciro. Ciro, who he was spending time with. Ciro, who he was hanging off of. The wooden spoon in his hand cracked in his grip, drawing a surprised look from the godling and a hasty loosening of the hold he had on it. The pasta did not need wood chips added to it.

Why did he feel angry? If anything, he should be happy the new additions to the headquarters were left intact after that fiasco! The kitchen he was assembling wasn't burned down, and was now complete with a temporary, home-made stove so Ciro could make dinner for himself. Even if it was Vale who was cooking the food.

Lazy man. He didn't have the blind excuse anymore.

But yes, he was happy! Nothing was broken, no damage made except to Ciro's fragile ego. He was happy.

He scowled.

Glancing back over his shoulder at the sulking godling, he shook his head in exasperation.

"Ee't could be v'orse," he added helpfully. And perhaps a bit vengefully.

Ciro shouldn't have been picking up women in his condition anyway.

Keeya had been caught off guard when Fish gathered her up. She had been sent out to pass out fliers for the newest production her adoptive family of her Aunt and Uncle were producing: Legends of Ancient Africa, spoken traditions and myths from the world, with elaborate, traditional styled costumes.

An intrest in it had sprouted up after hearing of the Tree's returning to health in Micro Zimbabwe and the 'miricle' of the baobab growing there, and after producing for a couple weeks in the theater itself, the troup would be traveling to the park itself to perform a few choice selections outdoors for a makeshift fundraiser to pay to get the irrigation fixed and the park expanded further into a few abandoned lots. Something Keeya, for Edinkira's sake, was willing to do all she could.

However, this led to her to be dressed up in traditional African garb when she was scooped up to head to Downers, a wrap around her head, pinning her ears back so the branch like growths didnt show. She looked from face to face as she clutched the fliers to her chest, and finally paused on Ciro, "... Hey..."

She smiled meekly, suddenly feeling rather awkward -- the last time they met over a year ago, they had been called back before they could save the man who had been captured, and while she had done her best, they hadn't left with a victory under their belt.

The young tree girl wiggled her toes slightly, clearing her throat as she thought of something to say, "... I like your beard." Keeya winced slightly, girl, thats the best you could think of?

Mr. Whiskers.

The handle of the spoon snapped.

"My name ee's Valeriu! Not Commie, not Cat, not Meow Mix, not Mr. Whiskers, not Fluffy, not anything else you could come up v'ith! Ee't ee's Va-Le-Ri-U!" He leveled both a glare and the flat end of the spoon at Ciro, scowling almightily, before snapping his eyes over to scan the two newcomers.

He was naturally wary, of course - the man looked about Ciro's age, and that promised all sorts of hell when it came to fights, knowing Players grew older every time they grew more powerful. The girl, on the other hand, was dressed curiously, but looked nice, and had the most peculiar hair. He doubted she'd be much trouble. But if Ciro was alright with them, he supposed they were allies of a sorts. For now.

"You should have told me there v'ould be company." He frowned more, irately turning back to the boiling pot. There was not enough spaghetti for four! He'd have to make do.

Flicking an ear back towards the lazy godling, the other kept centered on the newcomers (just in case), he moodily stabbed at the spaghetti with the spoon as he drained the water.

"I just did the laundry today. You know there are clean shirts. They are right v'here they have alv'ays been." Setting the pot down, he nonetheless strode over to where he kept the laundry folded away. He hadn't made or stolen a dresser yet, so they had to make do with neatly organized piles on a table-top. Snagging a t-shirt, he scowled and dropped it onto Ciro.

"You are not blind anymore." Snarling epithets of lazy and just because he's injured under his breath, he returned to finishing the spaghetti.

To the two, he nodded his head towards the motley band of chairs and sofa they (meaning only Vale) had stolen and dragged down the stairs and into the room.

"Come, sit. Just because Ciro has no manners does not mean I leave guests standing."

The girls skin darkened slightly, and she bit back a bit of a smile -- did Fish really think she had that much potential?

Keeya slid the bulby hat of hers off of her head -- while it looked like a wrap, it was one piece and slid off like a helmet, revieling more then just the rootlike cornrows on her scalp and the leafy trunk of her main head of 'hair' with a soft -shoomph- noise.

She set the hat down and smiled with a slight bow, before sitting down wearily where she was directed, putting her pamphlets into the hat and setting it down on the floor, "We.. Well, Erm... We were actually on the same team when everyone was called to work together, Ciro -- I was the one that pretended to be related to the hobo and had you hit me.. You've grown since then." And I've suffered in silence, waiting for my orders from Edinkira, she thought somewhat bitterly, but then it was easy enough to keep an ear to the winds for information when she was still seen as just another actress.

Figeting with the colorful hat, she drummed her fingers lightly on it, creating a hallow, drumlike trum, as she looked around the living quarters, swallowing thickly, Ok, I'm here in a house with a bunch of 'older' guys far more powerful then I am, now what was the reason for this venture?

"...The spaghetti smells good, Valeriu... Uh..." She scratched the back of her neck, "....yeah..."

"You know Quinn?" He really shouldn't be surprised that Quinn knew other Players. It was obvious he got around, after all, if his antics with Ciro had proven anything.

He frowned, something decidedly angry and more than a little bit lethal in the way he was moving now.

"Yeah, I v'as the one." He didn't bother to elaborate. That was between him and Quinn. And Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl, technically. And he may have told Sydni a few things, even if she couldn't understand it.

He still didn't understand it himself.

"Fine!" He shot back at Ciro, adding sauce to the spaghetti and tail bristling in offense. "Ee'f you don't v'ant spaghetti, then make something on your own."

He didn't deign to look at the man after that, but the cold shoulder and offended set of his back was obvious enough. Go ahead and drink, Ciro. Drink until you die of starvation, it said. If he had eyes in the back of his head, they would have been boring into Ciro's with all the fires that Shamash could ever summon.

You jerk.

Keeya's compliment, however, was received with a decidedly warmer smile.

"Thank you, Keeya. V'ould you two like some?"

"Thanks" Keeya smiled softly at Vale, "Maybe a little bit. Its been a while since I've had spaghetti."

She looked between the three older men, fiddling with the fliers she was handing out before being called in, "Ah..." She bit her lip, glancing over at Ciro, "I've been.. Really.. Really out of the loop.." the leafy haired girl looked up at Fish, "Who's Echo? And Who's.. Um... You know.." She scratched the back of her head, making a bit of a face, "You know.. The.. "b*****d"?" The word was spoken hesitantly, in a soft hush, as if saying it louder would leave a perminant and foul aftertaste on her tongue.

"He ee's mine." His words were offhanded, casual even, but there was steel backing them. Tail twitching at the tip, he divided the spaghetti into three bowls, replete with forks and napkins. "Mine alone to kill. Leave that to me."

He didn't want Fish to even try to kill Quinn. That was Vale's absolute right - his claim trumped others. There was no doubt in his mind on that. He wouldn't hesitate to defend that right, even if the other man was a Cultist and Ciro's friend.

Balancing the bowls and extras in his arms with all the grace his new body had given him (which, at times, was admittedly not enough to keep him from falling flat on his face), he smiled more happily back at Keeya, doling out the bowls. She reminded him of Sydni - and first and foremost, Vale was an older brother.

"Eat up."

One look at Ciro's face had him setting the third bowl of spaghetti in front of the man before he settled in his own chair. He had plenty of food at home, and he was used to eating dinner later anyway.

Besides, Ciro was going to eat his spaghetti, and he was going to like it. One man couldn't survive on alcohol alone, and he'd rather not be berated by two gods for failing to keep Ciro alive through such simple means.

He himself wasn't really even in on this loop either, having never met either Echo or Writ. But he'd been there to clean up the mess after Ciro had attained his revenge, had seen the wounds and sewed them up himself. The newspapers did no justice in describing how badly she must've been ruined.