Light of May ::: an original roleplay

Who Andy and Cels and their familiars
Where D'Ambray house
When Late night
Rating TBD

( Got me feelin loose )

Who: TJ and Andy
Where: His apartment
When: Dinner time
What: He makes good on a promise to prove she's not that bad of a cook.... he's wrong.

There was no possible way she was a bad cook. The pretty blonde had been on his mind, though he often told his head to shut up and focus on the important things. It was just his way, he supposed. So he finally had a night free and he called her up, pleased she would be able to come over. He spent the day planning a simple fare for their meal, something that he had learned a long time ago himself. Chicken parmesan wasn't that hard to make. Plus, there was the added bonus of downtime while it was baking that could be spent talking. That was something TJ hadn't gotten a chance to do a lot of when she had come to the Nest.

When the knock rang through his apartment, he was already wearing his apron, a spare over his arm. Yes, he had more than one and no, this wasn't girly. It was solid white and would suit her just fine. At least, he hoped so. Grin on his face, TJ opened the door. "I'm glad you're here," he said, looking forward to the evening with the perky and ever question filled Andy.

Who: Gavin, Langston, and later, Andy
Where: their apartment above Kaleidoscope
When: hours before moonrise, so late afternoon/early evening

( You can’t choose what stays and what fades away )

Who: the D’Ambray clan of awesome
When: morning
Where: D’Ambray house

Cels could no longer feel her arms. There was a terrible aching in her shoulders, and when she attempted to find a more comfortable position, spasms of pain shot through-out her body. Her fingers and wrists were tingling. She blinked dumbly, and forced herself to look away from her shiny new computer screen. The majority of her new bedroom was still covered in boxes, still waiting to be unpacked. She looked to her new bed. Had she even slept in it yet? Why did her eyes hurt?

She realized the sun had come up. When had that happened? What time was it? What day was it? She paused Netflix (what a wonderful invention), and minimized the World of Warcraft window on the computer to check the time. It was almost nine in the morning. On Tuesday. Tuesday? When had that happened? Holy crap, when had she gotten on the computer in the first place? She couldn’t remember. Slowly, oh so slowly, she turned in her chair to force herself to her feet. Oh, she hurt. She hurt bad. The Commodore padded into the room and fixed her with a look. Your first electric bill is going to be through the roof, he informed her, disapprovingly. Cels vaguely remembered using her power to re-energize… um… two or six times. You know, whichever. As thrilled as she was to have the Commodore back, and have him talking, she never would have imagined he would be such a killjoy. “I’m stopping,” she told him. “I am. I’m getting up and everything.” How long did it take for muscle atrophy to occur? When had she last eaten? Holy hell, she had to pee. She managed to ignore the pain in her body long enough to run to the bathroom, and after relieving herself, continued on to the kitchen at a much slower pace. She hoped the twins were still home. She heard sounds in the kitchen, and oh so slowly staggered inside. “Feed me,” she mumbled. “For the love of God, feed me.”