Delirium (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ex_tempusfra525) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} utr_logs,@ 2009-03-09 19:02:00 |
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What: Donuts, AKA Del's catch-all communication food
When/Where: Backdated to Sunday evening, a donut shop in NYC (If Eddie were to go get donuts, wherever he'd go? We'll say it works.)
Warnings: R. Eddie has a mouth on him, and Del has no concept of 'obscene'.
Del made her way to a donut shop, hopping up onto a stool at the counter to wait for her new friend, Eddie. It was a real donut shop, about a block down the street from Eddie's house- the kind that serves coffee, ice cream, and donuts, unapologetic about the health risks of any of their wares, usually with one word spelled wrong in a kitschey way in its name. In this case, it was the Tastee Donut Company, and Delirium had to agree with their assessment.
The plate in front of her had a dozen donuts on it of various sorts- sugar covered, sprinkles, nuts. Each with a little piece missing. If Eddie really wanted one when he got there, he'd have to order his own.
She hadn't told him where to meet her, specifically; things like that tended to slip her mind. Still, when he thought of 'donut shop', he'd pick the right one. She knew this kind of thing. As for finding her, well. If the large, retro headphones on the ears of a swaying, somehow-dancing-while-sitting teenage girl didn't give her away, the multicolor hair (that seemed to change color of its own volition) would. She could do normal, but really, where was the fun in that?