Welcome to Gaia! ::

Well that was certainly a great way to reintroduce herself.



Chel had found it digging through some of the old death archives from dearly departed hunters. Yes, she was supposed to have been cleaning the archives, but nevermind that.

Chel's door would be open (she had a nasty habit of forgetting to lock it), but she herself would be in her shower. Singing some Green Day very loudly.

It had just been the music she'd wanted to listen to.

Dawson would wait there for the long and lonely 12 minutes, until Chel finally emerged from the bathroom, two towels on her (one on her head and one wrapped around her body).

"Cold, cold, cold ******** cold," she chanted as she tiptoed back to her wardrobe (aka the enormous pile of clothes on the ground). She was only derailed when she noticed the bright cell phone on her bed, indicating she'd received a text. Curious and in the privacy of her room, she made her way to the bed and sat down, pulling the towel until it was clamped under her armpit.

She tilted her head at the text, and then things seemed to click. "Dawson? You back there buddy? Yer welcome to come out man, I ain't gonna bite."

"Naw, no need to say yer sorry. Real nice of you to wait actually." The phone went back to the bed and Chel stood up, moving to her clothes pile finally. Whether or not Dawson was still looking, she picked up a few garments, idly sniffing them to make sure they were still good. Chel was a very classy piece of work.

Eventually she was assembled in something resembling an outfit. Cautiously she approached the counter and peeked her head over the side. "What's cookin' good lookin'?"

Chel got down from the counter, swiveling herself to the other side and landing beside him, throwing down a hand to help him up. "Well ya came to the right place then!"

Before her shower, Chel had set out all the ingredients they would need. Mostly because she didn't want to go through the hustle and bustle with him. "You know how hard fresh onions are ta hunt down?" She whistled and said, "Take my advice man. Start a garden or some s**t. You'll make an assload."

She handed the recipe to Dawson, expecting him to be the one to read it. "Er sorry," she tacked on, recalling that it might have seemed a bit odd. She was used to Jack or Chris simply knowing. "I'm dyslexic as ********. If I read that we'll be here for years."

Chel was very used to taking the lead on cooking assignments- the only person better at it than her was probably Chris himself. It was an easy enough recipe from the sound of it, and she just decided it might be best if Dawson fished her the ingredients while she did the cooking.

"Naw we won't burn nothin'." She smiled and added, "Would be weird as ******** if we had to add soda though." Perhaps a fun experiment to try for another time.

As she flitted about she said, "Also uh ... while we're apologizin', I should prolly say I'm sorry for however I acted at the bar. I was ********' smashed and don't really remember anything after I asked you to dance." She awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck, similarly to how Dawson had earlier. "I hope I didn't do nothin' to embarass you."

"Chris was there?" She knew Chris had taken her home and that they'd made pancakes in the morning, but if he'd been in the dark she was completely unaware. "Huh. How you even know Chris? You in the military with him or somethin'?" The only way Chris would have a friend she didn't know is if he had made it during the part of his life where Chel wasn't there.

She gently prodded his stomach with her spoon. "Stop suckin' in ya look silly and there ain't no need."

Her accent was brought in to question and Chel grinned. Her tone switched to that of the average American accent, the kind in movies and non-southern area. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Me? Accent? Nooo not me."

"I'd let you inta my army!" Chel insisted. "Big ol' teddy bear shield. Hell yeah who wouldn't want that?" Chel was also keenly aware that while on Deus, Dawson would get abs whether he liked it or not. The job simply wasn't possible if you were out of shape.

By now Chel had already slipped back into her southern accent. "Tennessee? Really? 'As where I'm from." She grinned, smiling brightly at the similarity. "Well... I mean we moved up north to Michigan later. S'where I got the other talkin' sense. But I was raised with my accent and it feels better. I dunno." True when she'd first arrived at Deus she'd used her other accent, but that was mostly out of a fear of not fitting in or being pigeonholed as a southern hick.

She gestured to the fridge and said, "Grab an egg would you? I'll even let ya crack it in."