Welcome to Gaia! ::

She wasn't wrong.

"Kitchen!"

In the past months the house had slowly come together, and now it was much less abandoned wreck and simply a house in the process of a make-over. The floors in particular gleamed, as if they'd been cleaned and waxed often. And they had been, with great care to renew that warm inner glow time and again as work on the place inevitably dirtied and scuffed it. The windows were in all place, though none had curtains, and furniture would have to wait until America was promoted and could truly call the house her own. But the parlor was bright and sunny with its gentle yellow walls and white trim and sunny little nook of a window seat. The stair that led to the second floor no longer had gaps and the banister even looked safe to slide down. (It was, America tested it thoroughly.)

There was a little hall that led from the parlor to the kitchen, with doors to a small bathroom (now working and 100% less nightmarish) and a guest room (partially painted and coming along nicely). The the kitchen was a large, open space, and much like the rest of the house, bright and full of sunshine. It looked like the kitchen of a normal house, one that had not seen well over a decade of abandonment and disaster.

At a large island counter America, hair up in a braided crown and wearing a frilly white apron featuring red hearts, was lifting a basket of wings out of a fryer and dumping them into a strainer lined with paper towels. All around were sauce bottles labeled with numbers, along with a binder full of tidy notes and recipe cards.

"Beer's in the fridge!" Apparently the house was now also on the power grid, and likely the water grid as well, because the beer was indeed in the fridge and was nicely chilled at that. Bottles of soda were also housed within, and the freezer was full of both ice and popsicles.

Looking up, America grinned at Peyton, and there was a brief, but obvious moment of barely contained excitement at the idea of the house being finished, or at least near enough to be finished. She spent more and more time here, even before getting it hooked up to the Island's the power and water grid. And now that things were working...

Well, the dorms were seeing rather less of her of her lately. Probably for the best, all things considered. She the basket of wings in front of Pey, along with an empty place, a bow for bones, and a small dish of fresh chopped celery and carrot sticks. America then considered the sauce bottles for a moment and selected three, "Let's start with classic buffalo. Just tell me which you like best."

Peyton would find they each varied a bit in flavor, consistency, and heat, though none were super spicy. Leaning on her elbows, America watched the other girl expectantly and took a sip of her own beer. "How's Astrid settling in? You said she was in Life, right?"

America grinned back at the compliment. Damn right it's good. "You should have her help you get in on all the betting they have going on over there. I hear that's where the real money's at." She wasn't really one for gambling herself, but some of the bets she'd heard of were a <********' hoot.

"So have you talked with Al, yet? 'Bout the Noah thing?" America waggled her eyebrows playfully at the smaller girl, not at all treating the topic like Al was some sort of danger to Peyton's relationship.

"T'stake your territory, n'such. An let him know you're keeping an eye out." America's voice held a sort of reality TV snap to it, but she spoke with a grin, eye bright with humor. Love triangles, gosh! "When he told me I triaf to angle y'all into a threesome thing, but he was..." She glanced at Peyton's face and began cracking up, "...yeah, just like that."

The girl took a moment to compose herself and then leaned in close, "But Noah's great for telling you you straight out. Most guys wouldn't, except maybe to brag. Did you reward him with a big sexy make-out?"