[FIN] They weren't happy about the sheets. [Ashlyn/Quinn]

[Kappawolf]

The first sign was probably the stocked fridge.

After that, the used razors and toiletries in the bathroom.

Quinn decided to attribute it to a nice care package that was also incredibly low-budget, but when someone was using a key to open the door and a group of sun-burnt normal people opened the door and walked inside, little kids making noise and tugging at their parent's ankles, he knew something was wrong. He glanced at them from the bed, where he was reclining amidst blankets that were slightly more used than they had been the day before. He clicked the remote to another channel, then looked back. He turned the T.V. off.

"...Hi."

Somehow, amidst the screams, he managed to dodge past the mace pulled quickly from a purse and the punches launched by the man, escape outside, and run. Once they had lost him, he slid down a wall to the ground with a thunk, and started making some chittering noises. A rat eventually came and looked at him expectantly. He chittered some more.

After a short interchange, he got up, and began walking purposefully towards the directions he had been given.

He walked up to the door, checked the number, and raised his hand up.

To his mouth.

"RISE AND ******** SHINE, WOMAN. IT IS WAY TOO EARLY FOR ME TO BE DEALING WITH PROBLEMS YOU CAUSED. GET OUT OF THE HOUSE RIGHT. ********. NOW."

Knocking is for those who are less angry.  

[AMItotic]

It was two in the morning, and Ashlyn had a very specific regiment for what happened at two in the morning. If she had anything to do with it, she would be asleep under her feathery-down comforter, curled up in the fetal position around her copy of Woman Warrior (sometimes this was interchanged with The Feminine Mystique) and wearing her silk jam-jams, dreaming the dreamiest sort of dreams about riding a horse into battle, her sword held high and her game face on. Then, rocks would fall and everyone would die. It was one of her peppier dreams, and pretty far up on the list of reasons that she liked to keep to her normal two in the morning regiment.

This, however, was not going to be one of those nights.

Characteristically, Ashlyn was a heavy sleeper, so she entirely missed being addressed as 'Woman', simply turning in her sleep with a grumble and a flop. However, by the time Quinn was using single words for sentences, even she had to enter the realm of the living again, and stretched sleepily, looking towards the general area of the front door with an irritated look. "I swear to God, if it's the drunk from 206 again..."

Gods, dearest, you really mustn't be so close-minded. And look again, reminded Brigid, who cheerfully sat on the edges of her sleep-addled mind.

Grumbling to herself as she crawled out of bed and into her fluffy bed-slippers, she began to notice the general buzz building behind her sinuses, the same sort of pressure that she'd felt the night before, out in Oldpeka. Godlings. Or...godling, in the singular, based on the sort of yelling going on outside. With a grunt, she slipped her breastplate and her sword belt on over her baby blue jam-jams, and then she was at her doorframe, looking up at the feathered man with tired, angry eyes.

"Give me one reason that this sword doesn't go up your a** right now." She would have tried being louder, but loud was for people who were less tired, and her rage hadn't quite had a chance to accumulate just yet.  

[Kappawolf]

Quinn frowned at her. He frowned deeply.

"I'm sorry? What was that? I can't hear you, my ears are still ringing from the screams of the family that came home to the apartment I was assigned to. Little Johnny bit me on the ankle as I was running out, and I got hit in the face by a purse."

Boy, how he frowned.

"You and your, your, your city," he spat, spitefully, "Are terrible, horrible people, and your city deserves to go to rehab for being terrible." He was, also, a bit too tired and flustered to make much sense. "You are the only person here who seems to know what is going on, which makes you in charge. And since you're in charge, this is your fault."

"So, here's a reason: I don't have anywhere to sleep. Here's another reason: I'm probably going to be reported to the police. I have a really recognizable face, you know. And I'll be sent to jail or whatever and I will have to keep the soap from dropping, and jail clothes are hideous, and-- and--" His eyes welled up with tears.

A breakdown was long due, this just happened to finally catalyze it.

"And it's my first night trying to be independent and it's already ruined because the universe hates me." He broke into sobs as he crumpled to his knees in front of her, hands rubbing at eyes and body shaking.

"And it's all your fault!"  

[AMItotic]

Ashlyn would have liked to note that, for the record, she was not the person 'in charge', that she had never assigned apartments to anyone, and that it was really none of her business if Little Johnny had bitten Vegas Showgirl on his ankle on the way out. In this town, she considered him lucky that the kid didn't draw blood, the little demons. Given that she was still sleepy, all she could do is watch his little outburst with one quirked eyebrow and a suppressed yawn, wrapping her outlandishly wavy hair back into its regular braid while the wheels in her head began to turn. By the time tears began to run, she was half-finished with her braid, and she was awake enough to look properly annoyed. The man had scales, after all: for all she knew, they were crocodile tears and she was listening to Vegas Showgirl baww over nothing.

"Look," Ashlyn said, pausing in her braiding so that she could rub one of her temples, "I really have nothing to do with this, so I can forgive you if you can just get off my welcome mat and--"

"And it's all your fault!"

Ashlyn sighed, because if she didn't exhale quietly then she knew she was going to scream. She did her best to understand. This guy had just lost his home, probably some of his family, and on top of that, his housing had gotten botched (obviously, he had never gone to University), and she supposed that, when all of that wrapped into one big package, there was cause for tears. Well...maybe not tears on Ashlyn's end, but she'd certainly would have been frustrated enough to want to hurt things. Alas, but the trees in the apartment complex's humble courtyard had never been the same once she'd hit prophet.

Reluctantly, she nudged her door open and motioned for him to come inside, her half-braid forgotten in favor of looking for something that had caffeine in it. "You can spend the night just as long as you shut the ******** up, okay? I've got class tomorrow, and I can't afford to sleep through it." In all actuality, Ashlyn had no clue if she had class the following morning or not: she supposed she would find out if her alarm clock went off in about five hours, since it was only programmed to make her hate life on a Monday to Friday schedule.

Sloughing her sword off on an errant chair, she lightly glanced at the condition of the living room in her apartment: the coffee table was covered with all sorts of graph paper and energy drink cans, but other than that, the place seemed to be clean enough, if a little crammed with a full-size couch and a table taking up most of the space. Yawning, she leaned against the railing of the chair she'd left Hrith on, waiting on her guest to enter so her caffeine search could continue.  

[Kappawolf]

Quinn stood up and wiped at his eyes, still hiccuping with small sobs as he staggered into the house, and collapsed onto the couch dramatically.

"Class? Boring. We should go shopping tomorrow, or something. You can show me around town, and we could be best friends." He was still saying all of this in his crying voice, and it was quavery. "Best friends in the world, because I need someone, I have no one, and I need someone because I have no one." He covered his eyes with his hands, and rolled around the small amount he could on the couch.

"And now I have to stay in a dump with a girl who doesn't know how to clean, and I thought all girls knew how to clean, isn't that all that they're good at? And I'm lonely and the universe hates me," he insisted again, his grammar shot all to hell in the breakdown. He stood up from the couch and paced around, ignoring Ashlyn. Finally, he plopped down on the floor and sat crosslegged, glaring at her feet.

"Thank you," he allowed, begrudgingly, "Girl-With-A-Sword."  

[AMItotic]

"Shopping is for tools," Ashlyn grumbled, bending over as she leaned into the fridge looking for something both tasty and energizing. She figured as awake as she was, she might as well just stay awake and maybe learn a thing or two from Vegas Showgirl, since he probably knew more about the Game than she did (here's a hint: the energy drink she pulled from the fridge had about as much information as she did). She was halfway through her first swig when she realized that her guest might need a refreshing beverage as well, and was reaching for the second can right about the moment when Quinn just had to make the cleaning comment.

Ashlyn's eyes narrowed. Her fingers clenched around the can, and straightening her posture she half-slammed down her own drink, pondering if it would be worth it to break out her sword this early in the morning, especially on the carpet. Catelyn had just gotten that carpet, it'd be such a shame to ruin it. So, she instead let her anger rise to a boil as Vegas Showgirl continued his PMS-inspired rant, until finally she was glaring at his long blonde hair just as much as he was glaring at her feet.

"You're welcome," she said blankly, and then the can of energy drink went flying, aimed for Quinn but at no body part in particular, just so long as it did some form of bodily harm. Scowling, she crossed past his seated form and closed her front door, moving back to her own drink as soon as possible. "That was for saying that all girls had to clean," she muttered darkly, taking another swig, her eyelids beginning to feel less heavy as all the caffeine and ginseng and other fancy-sounding herbs began to work their magic. "This is my apartment, I do what I want. And it would have been cleaner if I'd known I was going to get house calls at two in the ******** morning." The last sentence sounded just a shade past bitter, but maybe it was still the sleepiness talking.  

[Kappawolf]

"Your sword's a tool," he retorted. He figured the sword was the closest thing she had to a friend, so it was worth insulting. Suddenly, there was a can flying at his face, and it smacked him in the nose. He crumpled backwards.

"Gah!" He clutched at his nose and rolled around on her floor. "You're trying to kill me now! I'm having the worst night of my life, and you're trying to kill me! Help! Help! Murderous Girl-With-A-Sword on the loose!" He yelled, and eventually calmed down, twitching his face around and doing his best to stare at his own nose.

"And you should have figured you were going to get house calls, if you were so sloppy at the paperwork. Since apparently you guys gave me a house that was already owned." He stood up and pressed gingerly on his nose. He winced, it was going to bruise.

"And I'm not even thir--" He noticed it was an energy drink. He checked for carbonation, since it had been thrown at him, and popped it open. It wasn't carbonated, thank god.

"Mmm. This is good."  

[AMItotic]

"Ugh," Ashlyn groaned, rolling her eyes at the shitfit Quinn was having. "I'm not trying to kill you. If I was trying to kill you, I'd be trying harder. Don't tempt me." She took another sip of her drink, then flopped down on her couch. "And I didn't do the paperwork, I had nothing to do with moving you guys in. That was all Persephone, Lady of the Underworld or whatever. I didn't even know you guys were going to be here two days ago."

Frowning, she leaned back into the cushions of her couch, shaking her can to figure out about how much she had left. "Yeah," she added, nodding, "Blue Shark, the Attack Attack flavor. It's the best." With that, she took another swig.

There was a moment of silence that followed, punctuated only by the soft lazy whirr of the ceiling fan and the hum of the refridgerator in the next room. Ashlyn began to twitch one of her legs idly, choosing to look up at the ceiling and follow the fan blades rather than look at her unwanted visitor. There was a part of her that wanted to kick his a**, sure, but Brigid was ever in the background, soothing her feelings and pressing her for kindness.

He has been through so much, child, more than you could know. Try to be helpful, at the least he could be a powerful ally.

Ashlyn couldn't argue with the need to collaborate, especially with the way Blue Man had acted, right off the bat. The Game was no longer a one-woman-show for Ashlyn, and if she wanted to get anywhere there were people she would have to work with, people like Vegas Showgirls.

"...I never caught your name," she finally said, scratching the bridge of her nose. She had to make some sort of conversation, something that would preferably not piss her off.  

[Kappawolf]

Quinn looked at her. "My name's Quinton, Girl-With-A-Sword. Quinton Moreau. And I didn't pay attention to yours," He paused, "But I don't really care? So it doesn't really matter." He chugged his drink, and casually tossed it on the floor somewhere.

"What is in that? Geez. I feel like I need to do some Attack Attacking!" He jumped up into the air and started mock-fighting an imaginary foe, punching at the air and letting lightning crackle around his fists.

"More important than your name," He smiled at her, "What all do you do? I got lightning!" He created a little ball of lightning in his palm, and let it jump, hovering in each hand. "Oo, I'm not usually able to keep it this controlled!" The energy drink was making him very, very excited. It was working fast on his skinny, skinny system.

"Let's see if I can make it bigger."  

[AMItotic]

"Quinton?" Ashlyn scrunched up her nose--who named their kid that? "I can remember that." Her scrunched-up expression continued through his rude behavior, but managed to keep her mouth shut until the man nonchalantly just threw his can into one of the corners of the already tiny room.

"Nuh-uh, pick that up, we don't play that game here," she said, taking on a condescending tone as she pointed a finger towards his chest in between his mock jabs. "There's not a damn thing on the floor, and like hell I'm gonna let some punk just walk in here and--what the ********?!" The girl nearly jumped out of her skin when she began to hear the crackle of lightning, and stumbled at least three steps away, her eyes wide in shock (hurr).

"You--can do that?" By a general godling's scale of awesome, Ashlyn was pretty low on the list: she could fight with her sword and she could work with metal, but other than that her magic bag of tricks was relatively threadbare. It had never occurred to her that along with the special appearances came special powers, and the poor girl seemed about ready to go into cardiac arrest with the way she was looking at Quinn's electric ball.

"Okay, we're just going to put that down," the young woman said in a slow, sweet tone, "And we're not going to destroy my apartment, because I've only got a lease on this and the landlord'll kill me if I char the floors." When she saw that her talking was going nowhere, she seized both of Quinn's hands by the wrists, the static causing her hair to frizz up in all sorts of unattractive ways.

"Quinton Middlename Moreau, put the lightning down. Now." Mama Ashlyn did not play this game.  

[Kappawolf]

Quinn squished his hands together, letting the lightning go out as his hair fell back to the ground and he looked at her, worried. "I'm sorry. Forgive me." He fell to his knees, and then lay backwards on them, legs folded underneath him as he spread his arms and called to the sky.

"Forgive me, for attempting to show some measure of fun to this poor, dull, boring girl!" He sat back up, done being dramatic for the moment.

He looked around for a trash can, and didn't readily see it, so he decided he'd just have to pick the can up.

With style.

He shot a lightning bolt out to hit the can, knocking it away from him, hitting the wall, and back towards him.

"I got it, I got it!" It hit him in the nose again. "Gack!" He crumpled as low to the ground as he could get, and whined.

"The universe hates me. What use are your floors, charred or not, if my face is hideous and my nose is broken forever? No use. That's what."  

[AMItotic]

Ashlyn had not signed up for this. She had not signed up for babysitting a crazy Vegas showgirl and dealings with his little conniption fits, nor had she agreed to having lightning bolts shot around her apartment. Money was tight enough as it was, the last thing she needed was to have to pay for damage fees. Didn't this guy understand that ruining things were never free?

"Damnit, are you five?" She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed by his little dramatic display. By this point, she was almost ready to go pick up the can herself, just so she could get back to sleep, but then Vegas decided he was going to go and pull that lightning bullshit again, causing Ashlyn to jump half-way back into the kitchen.

"--Don't--do that!" Slowly, she unpeeled herself away from the wall, snatching up the can with an angry snap and stepping over his whimpering form. With quick, short grabs, she collected all the rest of the cans on the table, depositing them in a small recycle bin just past the kitchen door. When she returned to find him still whining about his nose, she rolled her eyes and began to stack the homework papers neatly, grumbling all the way.

"Look, if you're going to stay here, there are rules. Like no ******** lightning in the apartment. And...pick your s**t up. And if you drink a can of Blue Shark, you replace it with another one in the pantry, and under no circumstances do you drink the last one, or so help me you will be out on your a** and you can live on the streets until you get a new apartment."

She pulled him up to a sitting position and looked him in the eye, making sure he was well in sight of the sword at her hip. "Is that clear?"  

[Kappawolf]

"Myeh, muhm," he mumbled, his eyes searching desperately to look anywhere but at her eyes. A five year old, he was. Finally, his eyes met her sword, and he immediately felt compelled to be a lot more articulate. "Yes, ma'am!" He chirped, and snapped his arm up in a salute.

"Don't drink the last one, make sure there are cold ones, and no more lightning!" He nodded. "You got it!"

He wriggled away from her, and stood up, brushing himself off.

"What are our sleeping arrangements, then? I need to have at least three pillows, one on either side of me and one at the head of my sleeping area, in case I decide to sleep on one side. Also, exactly how in objection are you to me bringing men back when you're out?" He looked at her expectantly. The correct answer was not at all. He was poised for another fit.  

[AMItotic]

Obedience seemed to sooth Ashlyn's temper, and she gave a quick nod of approval in response to Quinn's salute. She took a step back, letting himself pull himself up, then moved back to the couch, fluffing up a few of the pillows in preparation for his stay.

Listening to his demands, she began to get a sinking feeling that the couch wasn't going to cut it.

She eyed him warily, then looked back to the couch. "This folds out to a bed, but really, the cushions are more comfortable than the couch is, and we've got extra blankets and pillows in the closet over there," she said, pointing to a closed door. Ashlyn had a habit of housing people whenever they were down on their luck or their money (it was usually both), so she came well-prepared for visitors (at least, she did when she knew they were coming). Her look got somewhat more serious at the thought of having strangers in her apartment. Where her stuff was. Getting body fluids on her stuff. Or stealing it. Maybe both.

Slowly, she straightened her posture, ready to tell him that his Vegas ******** weren't welcome here, but Brigid lightly touched the edges of her consciousness, soothing her irritable nature. Try to compromise, dear. Please try. He has had a long and difficult road. Stiffly, Ashlyn grumbled, visibly uncomfortable with the situation, but she sighed. Maybe, just maybe, she could keep this guy from whining anymore.

"If you want...'friends'...over, you do it when I'm not here and I can't hear you." She probably should have been surprised about his preference in 'friends', but in the face of the Game, things like that didn't seem to bother her much anymore. "And you buy your own sheets." She hadn't gotten laid on her linens, so she would be damned if anyone else broke them in for her.  

[Kappawolf]

"Okay. I can live with that." Quinn yawned. The energy drink probably wouldn't let him sleep for a while, but his body really wanted to. He decided it was lay-down time. He followed her instructions, and built himself a sleeping area. He curled up under a blanket and smiled at her.

"You're pretty cool, Girl-With-A-Sword." He nodded. "And you seem like a pretty good roommate." He yawned again. Of course, he couldn't just leave it at that, and be sweet. He had to prod at her one last time.

"Thanks, babe," he finished, condescendingly, "You really know how to take care of a man."