Someone is rustling around in the kitchen. From the sound of the idle singing, occasionally descending into humming or whistling, the someone is Justin. There's also a scent of fresh wildflowers, not, presumably, from Justin.

There's a sound from the main room as well. It's not humming. Actually, it sounds like nothing so much as a groan, and it's followed by the sound of chairs being pushed across the floor a short distance. Several of them.

Justin comes out of the kitchen, frowning curiously, and holding a vase full of the fresh wildflowers that must be generating the scent. He looks tired, really tired, but not falling-over exhausted, at least.

Serendipity is in the midst of, apparently, pulling himself up and out from under the table. His hair is pulled back but unusually messy, and he's squinting against the light in the room. He doesn't look exactly his best. Or his happiest. And he moves uncharacteristically gingerly, as if it were more than his eyes in pain. "...nnngh," he greets Justin, ineloquently, and gives him a game but failed attempt at a smile.

Justin sets the vase down on the counter in a place where it can spread optimal cheer, and gives Ren an amused yet not unsympathetic look. "Was it juice, honey, willowbark, and a raw egg? I think there's all four in the kitchen, if you want some."

Serendipity winces, but this time the smile makes it, if weakly. "...yeah. Thanks. That'd be.... nice." He's quiet a moment, brain cycling through its paces at about quarter speed. "...oh. Morning. Hi. Uh. Nice flowers." He tidies the chairs around the table, settling them neatly where they belong. Overly neatly.

"Thanks," Justin says with a slight grin. He goes back into the kitchen, where more sounds emerge; fridge opening and closing, bottles opening, things pouring, rapid stirring, the crack of an eggshell. "This is vile!" he comments, cheerful despite his weariness, returning to present the concoction to Ren.

Serendipity accepts the glass, giving the contents the look of a doomed man for a moment. "Yup," he agrees glumly, and then tosses it back, chugging the contents down in one tortured go. He coughs a couple times before remarking, again, "Nngh. ...gah." He shakes his head once, and sighs, the hand not holding the glass coming up to yank the tie from his hair and try futiley to smooth it down. "...Thanks." Another somewhat wan smile, and he wanders awkwardly -- really looking =remarkably= sore -- to deposit the glass back in the kitchen.

Justin pulls a chair out to sit down, slumping back and yawning. "So what are /you/ getting drunk over?" he calls into the kitchen after Ren.

Serendipity returns without answering immediately, and pulls out one of those chairs he so carefully put back a minute ago, dropping hard into it, and immediately wincing as though he regrets it. "...Wouldja believe me if I said I was drinkin' to forget an' I succeeded?" he inquires a bit tiredly, not sounding as though he expects a 'yes'.

Justin props his elbow on the table and his cheek on his hand, and contemplates Ren tiredly. "I suppose, although you must be remembering again by now."

The Diner door opens with a bang as Bryce strides in. "Hey guys!" he calls brightly to Ren and Justin as he closes the door behind him. "What's up?" He hops up onto a chair set so he can face them both, sitting on the back of the chair with his feet on the seat.

Ah, sudden loud noises. Ren almost ends up under the table whimpering again. He manages to head it off at 'slumped with head in hands on tabletop'. "...nng. Hi, Bryce," he replies, considerably less loudly, before he replies to Justin, without sitting back up first. "Partly I figured maybe it'd make me sleep better," he admits.

Justin takes Bryce's loud and cheery entrance better. "Hey there. Ren's hung over," he informs Bryce blithely. "What've you been up to?" He glances at Ren curiously. "Haven't been sleeping well myself. It's gotten better, though. Kal helped."

"OhhhhHHHhhhh," Bryce says in response to Ren's condition. "Well I don't know anyone who can sleep better with a hangover. I think moderation is the key, here, man," he says wisely to Ren. "Uh, what have I been up to. Uh, patrolling, and studying those files on the super-polymer that I got from Higami. And sometimes playing video games. I have /not/ blown anything up lately."

Serendipity proves he's in there somewhere, all right -- he tilts his head enough to let his eyes show and focus on Justin, one eyebrow arching as he murmurs with meaningful humour, "I'll bet." He sits up, running a hand hard through his hair to finger-comb it, steeled against the inevitable pain. "Maybe people don't sleep better with a hangover, but in the part between really really drunk an' waking up half-dead, they usually do pretty good."

Justin only blushes slightly when teased. He chuckles softly, adjusting his glasses. "That's good," he tells Bryce, "I'm supposed to be the one who blows things up around here."

"The point being," Bryce says, pointing at Ren. "The point being that you didn't really make it. So go drink a bunch of water so your brain can rehydrate." He snickers a Justin a little. "Just try to limit it to popcorn and we should be alright."

"I thought that was me an' Kal," Ren replies innocently to Justin's assertion, as he gets his hair back under control and properly corralled. "Anyway, it did what I was mostly aimin' for. Slept all night, ish." He shrugs a little, a roll of the shoulders. "Might even eat somethin'. Eventually." He slips out of the coat, letting it drape itself backward over his chair, but fails to completely hide the pain from the movement. "...though prolly I oughta find Martin," he adds, more than half to himself.

"I don't think he's up to drinking anything yet, Bryce," Justin murmurs tactfully. He raises his eyebrows at Ren. "Probably, aye. He might be worried. He's completely in love with you, you know." That's not said as a spur, but as a mere observation, albeit a relevant one.

Bryce rolls his eyes at Justin, then frowns a little. "What is it with people not getting sleep around here? Ya'll need more exercise. Should come out on patrol with me. Or we could go down to Millinocket and get into a fight. Yeah, that sounds like fun."

"Coyote knows why," Ren agrees with the mage, sounding almost (almost) guilty, and sighs. "...don't worry on my 'ccount, Bryce. I get plennya exercise, trust me. An' hell, I'm pretty sure I was in a fight in Millinockett yesterday. Or maybe th' day before..." His brow wrinkles as he tries to piece a timeline back together.

Justin gives Bryce a look of not-entirely-feigned horror. "Get into a /fight/? Like... a /tavern brawl/?"

Bryce starts looking a little guilty at Justin's reaction. "Well, uh, yeah, actually. I think it'd be great practice. Nothing like taking on multiple opponents who really are out to hurt you."

Serendipity looks at Justin thoughtfully. "...you've never BEEN in a tavern brawl, have you," he doesn't quite ask. "Word t' the wise, if worst comes t' worst, get destructive enough the bartender breaks it up. Not that I get into 'em on =purpose= gen'rally..."

Justin scratches his beard. "Well, no, not as such. /Avoided/ a few tavern brawls..." He grins at Bryce. "A punch more or less doesn't faze /you/, but I take a little longer to heal, remember? Ren too. Not all of us are Gaia's chosen punching bags."

Bryce looks sheepish now. "Yeah I guess that's true," he admits, then hops to his feet. "I'm uh, gonna go study some more. Or beat on my punching board. Maybe. Anyway I'll be at the house."

Serendipity actually grins at Justin. "Ideally, you get 'em punching each other. Or the bar. Or anythin' not you. Still..." He lifts a hand and waves to Bryce, a somewhat weak gesture. "Beat somethin' up good for me. Have fun."

Justin lifts a hand as well to Bryce. "Later. Oh, and get started on the weeding, would you?" he adds guilelessly. He quirks an eyebrow at Ren, smiling lopsidedly. "Never been good at that."

"Weeding?" Ren asks, teasing.

"You're feeling better, I see," Justin observes, in response to the teasing.

Serendipity glances briefly away, the smile going a bit crooked. "The drink works," he replies wryly, "...an' I'm not thinkin'. That always helps."

"I suppose it'd be impolite to ask what you're trying to forget," Justin muses. "Since then you'd have to remember it. I confess to curiosity, however."

"What d'-you- have nightmares about?" Serendipity counters. It sounds almost like an offer, or maybe a dare -- I'll show you mine if you show me yours -- but there's a touch of evasion there, too.

Justin sits back, startled by the question. He frowns at Ren, puzzled. "Nothing I'd care to discuss. You're having nightmares too?"

"Mmm," Ren replies, but it's quite clearly a confirmation. "Somethin' like half the time I'm tryin' t' sleep, seems like." He sounds as tired as he must be.

Justin nods, and pushes his glasses further up his nose. "I was having them worse for a week or so, but it's better now. Probably some low-level negative psychic influence passing through the area. I'm very sensitive to those kinds of things. It seems to have passed for me at least."

"Negative psychic influence," Ren echoes, a bit flatly. "Those things go as far as Millenockett, y'think?"

"With ease," Justin replies promptly. "By 'low level' I mean low as in frequency, like radio waves. They'll go far if they're low. Given where we live, this kind of thing shouldn't be unexpected." He grins a little crookedly. "Unpleasant. But not unexpected."

Serendipity considers this for several moments, mulling it over. "Well, I don't like it," he mutters, glancing up toward the ceiling. "So these psychic influences... they ever right?"

"That's not something I can answer," Justin says, looking apologetic. "It's not really a matter of being 'right', you see. It's simply an emotional influence. If it'd been a happy emotion, we'd have had much nicer dreams. It's more a trigger than a real dream. It comes in and says 'Feel sad' or what have you, and you come up with the rest. Which is not to say that you didn't dream true, or didn't dream about something important."

Serendipity exhales, letting the air puff upward and toss the stray strands of hair about. "Gotta find out how t' tell if the one's a true dream. Or... a warning sorta thing. You know. Th' others... th' others I know already." He stretches, stiff and obviously in pain, and sighs again.

Justin folds his arms comfortably across his chest and regards Ren owlishly. "I'm no dreaming-seer," he offers, "but it seems to me that you're the only one who can tell if your dream is a warning, or true, or not."

Serendipity nods, slowly. "Startin' t' hate dreams," he remarks darkly. "So. How're you? 's new an' exciting?" It's a blatant subject change. No one in town would be likely to apply the word 'subtle' to Ren, granted, but even so it's a touch abrupt.

Justin accepts the subject change with equinamity. "Sleeping is nice," he says reflectively. "And Kal is very new and exciting." He ducks his head, grinning.

Serendipity eyes Justin. "Gods, I hate you," he replies, with only a hint of amusement, but no malice. He grins, then, and crosses his arms on the tabletop, resting his chin on them as he regards Justin, prompting, "...do tell."

Justin blinks at Ren in genuine surprise. "Er," he says, blankly, then fumbles for recovery. "I, uh. Sorry?" he suggests. "Uhm, tell about what?" He is all kinds of flustered.

Serendipity laughs a little, low and soft. "'m just envious," he murmurs somewhat dismissively. "...an' about Kal. You know: exciting an' new?" He manages to disengages a hand enough to make a vague 'go on...' gesture without otherwise moving.

"Envious of /me/?" Justin seems honestly flabberghasted. "Good Lord, Ren, /why/? You're the one with the looks, and the charm, and the charisma, and the experience, and everything I'm not, in short. Well, I suppose Kal isn't sleeping with you, but you know I wouldn't mind if he did, right?"

That gets a short, quick laugh. "Neither would I. 's too bad he would." Serendipity stretches both arms out across the table, chin resting on the wood between them. "Anyway, y'seem t' be holdin' your own in all the above categories."

"He's very finicky," Justin admits. "And he's decided he hates Miki for some reason. I fear this is going to cause tension." Frowning, he broods on this a moment, before glancing back at Ren with an embarrassed smile. "Well, thank you."

"'s nice t' kiss," Ren murmurs, then replies, "...welcome. An' 'course it will, there's already tension. Can't blame him, though, really. ...You really don't have any better ideas why'n 'for some reason'?"

"Very nice to kiss," Justin agrees with a low chuckle. He shakes his head in response. "He said something about Miki's his best friend, but he hates him, and it made no sense to me at all. Kal doesn't, often."

Serendipity watches Justin for a moment or two, thoughtful again. "A'ight," he replies, "be Kal for a minute. Think 'bout the stuff you've gone through an' all, an' how people treat you, an' all that. Then look at Miki an' tell me whatcha see."

Justin watches Ren in turn, tiredly. For a moment he appears to be giving it his best effort, but he shakes his head in defeat. "I'm not well-rested enough for such puzzles yet. I'll think on it. After a nap." He rises to his feet, stretching. "You should get some sleep too. See if the nightmares have passed for you as well."

"I did sleep," Ren replies, indicating the area under the table with a guesture, but he shrugs and rises as well, moving like an old man. "...Nng. Oughta find Martin, though. He's prolly worried." He sighs a little.

"He probably is," Justin agrees. "Go let him nurse you back to health." He grins at Ren, more openly. "Take it easy, okay? I'll see you later." He heads out, towards the promised nap.