Serendipity emerges from the cot-room, stretching -- his coat's on, but his shirt's untucked and even less laced than usual, and his hair is actually down, free, reaching just about to his waist. He yawns, and wanders toward the kitchen, wherein food is not infrequently found.

Tristan turns his head very slowly, as if afraid it might fall off, to follow the dark young man's progress into the kitchen. He licks his lips, also slowly, and turns back to the stove. He's leaving quite a puddle of meltwater.

Serendipity re-emerges with a plate of food -- muffins, leftovers -- in one hand, and a cup of tea clenched precariously between his teeth, the other hand busy pulling all that hair back into the usual ponytail. It's even looser than it usually tends to be; he's not truly awake yet. In fact, he doesn't even say a single word until he's taken a seat at the table, set down the plate, and downed half the cup of tea in a single swallow. "Hey," he greets Tristan then, lazily. "When you're done cooking there, gonna serve yourself up with gravy?"

"I'd make a really bad pot roast," Tristan grunts, turning in place to toast his back, now. He's moving easier, now, and he flexes his arms experimentally. "Ain't seen you around, what's yer name?"

Serendipity rests his elbow on the table, chin on his hand, and endeavours to look wounded. "Aw, I thought I was more memorable than that," he replies, and drains the rest of his tea, then stands and stretches again, taking an idle step or two in the general direction of the stove, staying close to the table's edge. "Lessee. You were... Tristan. Yeah? Serendipity Jones, at yer service." He sweeps a deep bow, and comes up grinning.

Tristan eyes Serendipity, gaze suddenly sharp. "Oh yeah. You were the one with the horse." He sounds annoyed, like it's Serendipity's personal fault that he forgot him. "Yer unforgettable, all right."

A rattle comes from the door, and then it opens slightly, admitting a gust of frozen wind and a chaos of dark hair strewn with melting hail and finished off with icicles. A moment later Safi comes in, the usually-bare feet and calves wrapped in makeshift boots of fur and hide scraps, laced together with apparent disregard for aesthetics. She closes the door behind her, and regards them warily through a fall of that ice-tipped chaos of hair.

Serendipity absently adjusts his hair again, and leans on the table, getting comfortable. Apparently, the food can wait a little. "That's more like it. Yeah, I was the one with the horse. ...heh, makes me sound like Catherine the Great..." He trails off as the door opens, and grins yet broader as Safi enters. "Hiya, beautiful. Come defrost with us."

Tristan snorts. "Hey, there're enough horse shifters around here you COULD fuck a horse, without a harness even." He flashes half a grin at Safi. "Yer almost as much of an icicle as I was. Don'tcha ever wear clothes?" he asks, curiously.

Safi plucks at her tunic demonstratively, as if to point out that she is wearing clothes at the moment. Her eyes, though, betray a certain distrust of Tristan; she circles the room in Serendipity's direction, and seems to have no intention of coming too close to the fire and the vampire.

Serendipity laughs aloud, startled, and grins at Tristan with amusement. "Kinky. Ride 'em cowboy!" he remarks, and reaches over to comb some of the ice out of Safi's hair, drawing her gently closer. "You eaten, lovely? There's muffins and tea."

Tristan rolls his eyes at Safi as she keeps her distance, and with great aplomb picks up his wet shirts and walks somewhere away from the fire, leaving it vampire-free for your convenience. He perches on a table and shakes out his wet clothes, making horrible faces at it.

Safi shakes her head. "I come here to get food. For Jack and me."

The wild-girl doesn't seem cold, oddly. Cool, perhaps, the leather of her clothing damp but not freezing as it should be.

Serendipity gestures to the plate on the table, magnanimously. "There's s'more in the kitchen -- nothing hot, or anythin', but hey. Eat up." He straightens and wanders over to Tristan, plucking the wet shirts from the vampire's hands and taking them back toward the stove.

Safi paces over to the counter to get a cup for her tea, watching them both with the wary eyes of a wild animal, assessing threats. Once she has a steaming cup, she sits down at the table and grabs one of the muffins.

Tristan heys! as his shirts are abducted. "Ya like em so much, you can have em," he says dryly, "though you gotta put up with lookin at my ribs forevermore."

Serendipity smirks, and holds the shirts up to himself -- thought not close enough to get him wet. "What do you think, suit me?" he asks dryly, and digs in his pocket for a piece of string, which he ties up near the stove as a makeshift clothesline. "...anyway, that's not an unbearable sentence."

Safi's brow furrows, and she stops eating, leaning down to unwrap the homemade boots. "Maybe zisd is good idea," she says. "I make everysing more dry, while I am here..."

"Yep, cuz otherwise, it's all wet n shit," Tristan tells Safi brightly. He's in a startlingly good mood for a change. "And me, I gotta be careful about this stuff, cuz otherwize, I freeze solid. That sucks. It sucks real bad. Happened once, made a major impression." He snorts at Ren's comment, too. "We got a word for boys like you, back home."

Serendipity brightens very slightly. "Oh, yeah," he agrees to Safi, "Absolutely. You can get sick, hanging around in wet clothes, y'know. Strip 'em on off, give 'em to me, I'll hang 'em all up to dry." Look how helpful! Awww! He munches a muffin in the meantime, and arches a brow at Tristan. "Yeah? Miki's word for me's 'bogaras'. What's yours?"

"I think you are very pretty," Safi says carefully.

"'Easy'," Tristan says, wryly. "Though, hey, 'pretty' works too. This town is fuckin bursting at the gills with hot young thangs, you notice that?" His gaze slips to Safi a moment, then back to Ren.

Safi's brow furrows as she tries to follow the unfamiliar idioms.

Serendipity turns his head back to Safi, with a startled, crooked smile that actually doesn't qualify as a grin for a few seconds. "What, me? ...Thanks, beautiful," he replies, a little more quietly than usual, and then the grin returns as he looks back to Tristan. "True 'nough. Never heard anyone singing the virtues of being difficult, though... and =damn= right. My working theory's someone dumped a barrel of industrial-strength Hot into the water table."

Tristan tips back his head, laughing. "Darkin' night, but I wouldn't be surprised." He grins at Safi and Ren, both. "

Safi frowns. "I do not undair-stand, how... people are difficult and easy?" She looks from one to the other, guardedly, as she gets to her feet to hang up the strips of wet fur and leather.

Serendipity perches on the edge of the table, feet on the ground, watching Safi. "Well, see, 'difficult' people are a pain in the ass, they make a lotta demands, always make things... welll.. difficult, yeah? 'Easy' 's what they call you if you're gettin' laid more'n they are." He winks, and takes another bite of his muffin.

Safi's brow furrows. "Laid?" she asks uncertainly.

"Sex," clarifies Tristan, ever-helpful.

She blinks, eyes widening in understanding. "Oh," she says. "Easy, is easy to fuck."

"Dat's right," Tristan, pleased with Safi's quick study, says. "Course, I can't fuck at all, anymore, but hey, I don't miss it."

The front door opens and slams, and Robin is there, chest heaving. Her cheeks are red with wind and ice and her coat is dripping sleet. "Lunch," she says hoarsely, and then realizes who's there. "...My."

Serendipity glances over his shoulder at Tristan, arching a brow. "...you," he declares firmly, "are either Cleopatra, Queen of Denial, or really fucked up." Much more conversational than accusatory. He shrugs at Safi, but whatever he planned to say is lost in Robin's entrance. "...Hi there," he greets her cheerfully, "Pull up a muffin and some fire."

Safi is standing, just hanging several wet pieces of leather and fur over a makeshift clothesline by the stove. She whirls, eyes wide with alarm, studying the woman for a long moment as if to make sure she is okay. "And tea," she suggests.

"Fire. Tea. Sandwich," Robin says, moving toward the counter. Her eyes are glazed. "Stranger. Hi."

Tristan cackles at Ren. "Ain't that the truth." He waves cheerily at Robin; he is shirtless at the moment, and damp, perched on a table. "Aww, she's all frozed n stuff, somebody be a good samaritan an' get the woman somethin warm. To -eat-," he adds, eyeing Ren with a playful warning.

Safi paces off in the direction of the kitchen. "Maybe zere is something..."

A sudden spirited -- and spiritual -- tumult seems to burst through the ceiling into the room, although the ceiling is perfectly intact. *YOU DIDN'T YOU DIDN'T TAKE THAT BACK!!!!!* After a moment, one can discern two shapes woven of gossamer strands of nothing, each shining a slightly different pearlescently pastel color of the rainbow. They are tussling with each other, rolling over and over, and eventually end up sprawled over each other in the corner, wings akimbo, in that boneless, gangly way that the young of any mammalian species has. Their tiny horns shine silver as their pinfeathers, and their manes and tails are unusually sumptuous for foals, but these are clearly a pair of young unicorns.

Serendipity has somehow ended up quite a bit farther from the spot the unicorns came through than he was before it happened, standing alert, ready to face any possible threat by... well, god knows. "...fuck, Sean was right, The place IS infested with unicorns!"

Robin yelps and flattens herself against the counter as the Diner rains unicolts. She stares. "Unicorns," she says. "On my lunch break. They really will fall out of trees someday." She reaches for something behind her ear, then stops, looking exasperated. "And me without my camera. You two!" she snaps, heading for the tumble of unicorns. "Stand up, wipe your noses. What would you like for lunch?"

The table rocks as Tristan springs off of it, landing neatly in a crouch--and stares. "Oh. KAY. Who wrote us into the middle of a kiddie book?"

Safi whirls, staring for a moment at the two young interlopers. "*Children! Behave!*" she says sharply, with a note of authority and confidence that might be... surprising, to say the least. "Stop fighting this instant!"

With the combination of female voices scolding them, the unicorns stop their scrabbling and stare, wide-eyed, at the assemblage and the building. *Ooooohhhhh, we're in trouuuuuble* one of them says, and it's nearly impossible to tell which one, except that it is the more lavender one. *Get up, get up* the other one says, attempting to disentangle limbs too long and knobby from its counterpart's. *We gotta look miss-teer-ee-us.* They scramble to their hooves with great flapping of small wings, and eventually assume a sort of nonchalant we-meant-to-do-that pose at a photogenic angle to one another.

Serendipity blinks a couple times, watching all this, and laughs, strolling back to the eminently leanable table-edge. "You sound like their governess," he remarks to Robin.

"/Much/ better," Robin says, nodding approvingly with her hands on her hips. She shoots a grin and a play-along-with-me look at Ren. "Now..." She kneels, spreading the skirts of her coat around her like a storybook heroine's skirts, and says, "How may we serve you, O ye lord and lady of the air?"

Tristan claps his hands over his mouth and curls double. It looks like he's either in pain, or trying with all his might not to laugh so hard he ruptures something.

Safi frowns, and comes to the counter; still looking balefully at the two unicorn-children, she pours another cup of tea. Then she steps over to stand beside Robin, handing the cup to her without speaking.

The lavender-shading-into-blue unicorn looks down at Robin haughtily, although the pink-shading-to-green unicorn is distracted with staring at Tristan curiously. *We demand... pudding* she says, then kicks sideways at her brother. *Quit staring* she hisses. *It'll notice you.*
*Ow* he says plaintively. *You have sharp hooves today*

Serendipity grins back at Robin, and goes solemn -- for him -- sweeping a deep, fairytale-worthy bow to the unifoals. "And do my lord and lady prefer their repast in a bowl, or upon a plate?"

"Or will you grace us with your human forms, and honor our humble table with your company?" Robin says. She accepts the tea from Safi with a grateful nod and wraps her chilled hands around it.

Tristan sinks down into a squat, grinning up at the scene, winding his arms around his knees. He lets just the tips of his fangs slide down, as he looks sideways at the baby unicorns.

Safi crosses her arms, and shakes a few icicles out of her hair. She merely watches, curious.

The now-blue-tinted unicorn looks snootily thoughtful for a moment, then, with a short nod, declares *Bowls*
The pink-and-green unicorn dances into his sister abruptly at the sight of Tristan's fangs. *Hey HEY* he says to her. *It's got fangs*
The blue unicorn seems like it would scowl if it could in this form. *The better to eat stupid younger brothers with* she snaps. Then, a return to the arrogance of babes, *We do not choose to take on our clumsy two-legged shapes at this time*

Safi's mouth curves in a smile, and she raises an eyebrow. "But how will you eat ze pudding? Your... noses, zey will get stuck. Wis' pudding all over zem." She glances over to Robin, and frowns slightly. "What, exactly, is pudding?" she asks in an undertone.

Tristan's fangs elicit a blink from Serendipity, but nothing more -- hey, he's got a part to play. He even doesn't start grinning about the unifoals until he's bowed to them in acknowledgement and turned around to head into the kitchen... for bowls, probably. And possibly pudding.

Tristan waggles his eyebrows menacingly at the pink-and-green colt.

"Sweet goo," Robin answers Safi in an undertone. To the unicorns, she nods graciously and stands, indicating a spot by the table. "Perhaps the lord and lady would like to join us and regale us with tales of their adventures while we fetch their dinners?"

*Hey, they're getting us pudding?* the unicolt says to the unifilly.
*Yes, now shut UP already* She inclines her head regally to Safi. *We hear your concerns, but we believe that we can consume from the bowls neatly in our current forms*
The unicolt butts her over toward the indicated table. *C'mon, c'mon, pudding!*
The unifilly rolls her rainbow-prism eyes and corrects herself, even as she moved in the correct direction: */I/ believe that /I/ can consume from the bowl neatly in this form*

Noises from the kitchen indicate searching -- for bowls, pudding, pudding-makings, or all of the above.

Robin bows. "Please pardon me," she says, and sweeps off to the kitchen, slurping her tea. As the doors swing shut, the words, "On the bottom shelf of the--" drift out.

Safi smiles, and laughs her strange silent laugh as she watches the creatures. She returns to her seat at the table, and picks up the half-eaten muffin, nibbling at it. "Do you have names?" she asks the two foals.

The main door of the Diner creaks open, letting in a blast of wind and freezing rain and little pellets of ice and, almost incidentally, Miki, wrapped in a throughly-frosted cloak. He has to turn around and wrestle with the wind to get the door shut again, the bell on the handle ringing mournfully in the gale. Finally, the door shuts and he turns to face the Diner, reaching up to push down his ice-encrusted hood. And he stares. He leans back against the main door as if it is the only thing holding him on his feet and stares with eyes as round as saucers and seemingly comparable in size. "O istenem!"

Tristan ventures to ask the unicorns, "So, uh, what's your names?" He blinks, as Safi asks the exact same thing, and changes it to, "How old are you?"

The blue-tinting-to-yellow unicorn maintains the disdainful tilt of her nose. *Of course we have names. But we're not s'posed to tell anyone* Unfortunately, she says this at exactly the same time her green-tinting-to-orange brother says *Oh, yeah. I'm Navan and she's Navit* This results in a short scuffle that begins with another side-kick, proceeds to a wing-buffet, and then to a general scrum.

Safi gets up out of her chair.

"*DO you think that is how to act? BEHAVE. Or you will not get any... pudding." Safi glares at the brawling, kicking creatures, narrowly sidestepping a stray kick.

Tristan snickers helplessly. The sight of two unicorn foals tearing up the joint is apparently too much for him.

Miki continues to stare as Safi scolds the unicorn foals. He stares at the unicorns. He stares at Safi. He spares only perhaps a quarter of a second to stare at Tristan, and then goes back to staring at the unicorns. Then he finds a chair near the door and sits down.

Robin sticks her head out of the kitchen, and withdraws it almost as fast with her hand over her mouth and a twinkle in her eye.

From afar, Robin | "Better get that pudding out there fast," Robin says thourgh her giggles. "Her Ladyship and His Lordship are having another donnybrook. The noble blood always does tell."

Safi tenses, upon Miki's arrival--but she does not look, maintaing her rather laughably matronly demeanor.

One of the unicorns -- yellow, yes, the yellow one -- pauses at Safi's words and scrambles back to her feet and attempts her dignified demeanor once more. The orange one, however, leaps free of her, dances over the table, hollers *YOU CAN'T CATCH ME!* and leaps toward Tristan. As he passes through the air, he seems to vanish, dissolving into air, and Tristan, on his next willful inhalation to continue snickering, suddenly has a lungful of airy unicorn. The slightly echo-y voice emerges from his ribcage. *Hey! It's kinda neat in here! All petrified and stuff!*
The unifilly sighs and shakes her head, gazing soulfully up at Safi. *What can I do? He's such a pain. /I/ know how to behave.*

There's a blast of cold air from the back, and then Rowan pushes his way in the back door. He stops almost immediately upon getting a clear view of what's going on, though, and just stands there, dripping ice, staring.

Serendipity follows suit almost immediately, apparently giving in to curiosity to check what amused Robin. There's a minute or so pause , and then he emerges, a good-sized bowl of butterscotch pudding lifted high in each hand. "Et voila!" he declares, strolling in dramatically. And then stopping to control the giggles that try to emerge.

Miki claps a hand over his mouth but can't keep the laughter from bursting out.

Tristan's eyes pop wide and some echo of biological function causes his mouth to snap shut automatically. He springs to his feet, looks down at himself, then, with the air of a six year old with a frog, pokes himself in the belly.

Robin follows with a bowl of whipped cream. She stops at the table and looks around. "...My lady, did you kill your brother? That's not nice."

Safi sighs, and drops back into her chair, giving Robin a helpless look. She is decidedly less happy than she was a few moments ago, and she seems tense, as if something is causing her discomfort.

Miki goes red in the face from laughing, rocking back and forth on his chair. He still hasn't taken his cloak off. The unicorns are enough to keep him distracted from a number of things, obviously.

Something giggles from deep inside Tristan. The yellow unicorn sighs and looks ceiling-ward in a most long-suffering manner. *I can't do a thing with him*
The unicorn inside Tristan shifts abruptly to the other lung, poking a bit at the pulmonary cavity in a curious manner. *There's no blood in here!* he informs everyone in his echoing sort of way.
*Of course there isn't! It's dead!* the yellow-tinging-to-indigo unicorn says. *I guess /I'll/ just get all the pudding then*

Rowan wanders slightly closer and asks, vaguely warily, "When'd... they arrive?"

Tristan can't stop the giggles, and thus, releases the air from his lungs, letting the colt out. "I got blood, it just ain't there." He grins widely at Rowan and Miki. "Didja see that? I had a unicorn!"

"I, I... saw," Miki manages to get out, in between gales of laughter. He finally has to grab the edge of the table. "Now I hurt to breathe."

Robin stares, aghast. "That's... disgusting." She sets the whipped cream down with a clonk. "Possess the mind, possess the heart, but don't possess the organs! You'll get all sticky."

Rowan gives Tristan a startled look, as if surprised he has anything resembling a sense of humor. Or enthusiasm. Then he just grins, leans into a table, and settles back to enjoy himself.

Serendipity puts down the pudding, on the floor with dignified aplomb, straightens, and restains the laughter, still.... but the the grin is back in force, and there's a hint of giggles in his shoulders. And it's getting worse.

Miki mutters, just audibly, "All petrified and stuff," and sets himself off again, holding onto the table for support as he shakes with laughter.

Safi keeps her eyes lowered, as she finishes off her muffin and tea. She is not laughing, now. Her eyes study the pair of foals.

The unicolt reforms in mid-air, wings flapping a little frantically as he, now red fading to pink, tries to land gracefully. All he does, however, is land, skitter, totter, and tumble over onto his nose at Serendipity's feet. His sister rolls her eyes again, settles her wings more appropriately against her back, and strides past his struggling form to the pudding. When he comes too close to overturning her bowl in trying to stand up, she kicks him so that he tumbles ass over teakettle to land at Safi's feet. The unifilly inclines her head to Ren and Robin and delicately begins to lick the pudding.

Robin picks up the little foal bodily, avoiding the pointy bits as best she can. She wrinkles her nose behind its back when she catches a whiff of it. "Why don't you come over here with me, your lordship?" she says, marching him to the woodstove. She sits crosslegged beside it with a sigh of relief at the blessed heat, and settles the foal in her lap, holding out her hand for the pudding.

Serendipity can't help it; the laughter gets the better of him. Seeing everyone else's condition did most of the job, but the tumbling does the rest; he manages to take a bowl of pudding to Robin before collapsing into a chair at the table and completely losing it.

Tristan mirrors Ren, dropping into a chair and giggling in utter hysterics.

Miki slowly manages to get the laughter under control, wiping tears off his face with the back of one hand. He looks up at Rowan and grins.

His lordship goes limp after a moment of struggling and allows Robin to haul him over to the fire, ears down and tail drooping. He perks up immensely, though, when he receives his pudding. True to his sister's corrected prediction, he immediately embeds his entire nose in the bowl, slurping noisily. Her ladyship continues, however, more refined for only a few more moments and then she, too, is up to her eyes in butterscotch. Neither says anything, but there are appreciative little grunting noises.

Rowan's grin is warm and enthusiastic; he's not laughing, but he is surely enjoying this.

Robin scratches his head, grinning down at her little charge. "Your lordship should give lessons to your golden-eyed uncle," she says. "Some people could use your joie de pudding."

Miki stands up and starts to unbutton his cloak. "Robin, did you see the golden-eyed one again?" he asks, still watching the little foals. He hangs the coat, when he gets out of it, on a hook by the door.

"Almost makes me wish I could eat," Tristan agrees with a grin--then he realizes he's talking to Robin, and his grin dims by several watts. He looks away, at the filly, instead.

Serendipity starts to regain control of his laughter, not that he's in any particular hurry to. "Oh, man. ...'s right, though, I mean, =lotsa= people could use his joie de pudding. Makes me wanna bowl myself."

Unicorns apparently have eating speeds to rival most large dogs, as both of them lift their heads from perfectly clean bowls almost simultaneously. The indigo unicorn fastidiously tries to lick her face clean. The pink-turning-chartreuse unicorn lifts his butterscotchy muzzle to Robin and licks her face before she can dodge. After a moment of work, the unifilly has her face as clean as it can be and assumes her dignity again. *We thank you for your offering, mortals* she intones. The unicolt breaks the mood by giggling madly, wriggling free of Robin's hands, and dancing across the floor, offering lightning-fast licks to any unwary human-shaped soul in the place.

Rowan ducks away from the colt.

Tristan says, "Gak," and attempts to fend off the colt with wild arm flailing. It doesn't work.

Robin snickers as the unicorn lunges for her face, and wipes the pudding off surreptitiously with her handkerchief. "I did see Himself again," she says to Miki, watching the unicorns wreak merry hell on the Diner. "He saved me from falling out of a tree, and then turned into a total--we exchanged comments on life," she edits, watching the colt zoom past. "But at least by the time he left, he was h--/charmed/, which was unintended and alarming but certainly has its potential. What /is/ it, Tristan? I don't plan to take up residence in any of your bodily cavities, if that's what you're worried about."

Miki is looking at Robin and listening to the things she is and is not saying and so is not quick enough to dodge the colt. "Ah, what!?" he says to it, startled.

Serendipity gets licked by the colt, and instead of dodging grabs the tot's muzzle and gives him a big ol' Bugs Bunny-style kiss, releasing him immediately and cracking up again. "...mmm. Butterscotch."

Tristan shrugs a gloomy adolescent shrug at Robin, gets to his feet, and goes to collect his now-dry shirts. He wipes his butterscotch-smeared cheek on the sleeve of the flannel before pulling both shirts on. "Yer cute," he says to the unicorn children. "Yet, annoying." Hands in pockets, he slouches into the kitchen, and from there outside, into the howling storm.

"He's only annoyed at the competition," Robin tells the unicorns.

Both unicorns suddenly freeze and stand, stock still, facing the same direction -- the mountain -- ears perked, tails high. After a moment, they cavort a little, kicking up their heels. *We have to go!* the chartreuse unicorn shouts. *So lovely, thank you very much* the lavender unicorn says, pausing long enough to remember her manners. *We'll be sure to come back soon!* They leap for the ceiling, their little wings giving powerful beats at the air. They pass through solid matter easily, leaving smudges and splotches of butterscotch pudding behind on the ceiling as they go.
A bit of butterscotch pudding slowly drips onto the floor.

Rowan stares after them, and then shakes his head wonderingly.

Miki gazes up at the ceiling as though it contained a particularly fine painting by some Italian artist or other. "Pudding," he says wonderingly. "Do you think they left it *all* behind?"

Serendipity looks up at the ceiling appraisingly, and shakes his head. "Nah... there was more than that in the bowls. Definitely."

Rowan eventually concludes, "...Gonna have t'get a ladder." He fails to sound disgruntled about it.

Robin stretches, cracking her back. The clean bowl is still by her feet. "I'm going to be late back from my lunch break," she says conversationally, "and when Kem asks me why, I'm going to look her right in the eye and say, 'Unicorns. Two of them. They ate my pudding.' And--" She picks up the bowl and rises, stretching her legs. "--she will /accept that as a valid answer/. I love Haven."

Miki grins at Robin. "Indeed," he says. He shakes his head wonderingly. "Baby unicorns. I have seen many things, but not baby unicorns eating pudding before."

Rowan gives Robin a brief, amused look.

Serendipity grins, and looks Robin over properly, now that the major distractions have gone. "You make a great unicorn nanny," he remarks, "...can you fly with an umbrella?" He makes a reasonably flamboyant seated bow to her. "Serendipity Jones, at your service. Pleased to make yer acquaintance."

"No, but you should see the tricks I can do with two quadro circuits and a Phillips screwdriver," Robin says. She performs a great, sweeping Versailles bow, with the puddling bowl standing in for a hat. (It ends up under her arm.) "Robin Longfellow, at your service. Welcome to the doom that is Haven."

Rowan nods to himself, as if expecting that, and goes to clean up the splatter of butterscotch that he can reach.

Miki stands up and wanders towards the kitchen, brushing his fingertips along Rowan's arm as he passes.

Rowan shoots a smile at Miki as he goes.

"Thanks," Ren replies, "....I like it. I think I'll stay a while." He grins, and relaxes back in his chair, glancing up at the pudding again. "...so can we make a date for you to show me those circuit tricks, Miss Robin Longfellow? They sound =fascinating=." He grins, and tosses her a light wink.

"I can show you as soon as I get the Turtlebean working again," Robin says, pulling sandwich makings from under the counter. She resolutely ignores the insinuation. "It had a rough introduction to a tree yesterday, and now it lists."

Serendipity nods, claiming one of the muffins and watching Rowan clean up pudding. "...deal. If you tell me what a turtlebean is."

"You've seen the Turtletop, yes?" Robin says, pointing in the general direction of the library. "The Turtlebean is a working scale model of it. It occasionally possesses limited intelligence, though not, alas, when it's hooked up to the AI."

Rowan disappears into the kitchen for a few moments.

Serendipity shakes his head, looking intrigued. "...nah, I haven't seen the Turtletop, either. Someone oughta give me a good tour of this place, I think. ...Hmmm."

Robin slaps together a sandwich composed mainly of cheese, butter, and mayonnaise, and wraps it in waxed paper hurriedly. "I'd offer, but I'm no guide. Food, books, heavy electronics, and people who get their heads ripped off every evening at eight, that's my map of Haven." She waves with the sandwich as she scoots for the door. "It was a pleasure to meet you, though. Call on me if you find yourself up by Roaring Brook."

Serendipity whips off a lazy salute to Robin, and nods. "I'll make a mental note. Lovely meeting you..."

Robin tugs her forelock and diappears into the sleet.

Safi seems to release some of her tension, when Miklos finally leaves. She remains still, looking into the bottom of a teacup that is now empty.

Serendipity relaxes in his chair, watching Safi now that everyone else has fled. It makes for much easier observation. "...so, beautiful," he asks rather kindly, "....what's your problem with Miki?"

Safi glances to him, transparent uneasiness and alarm crossing her features. "His problem wis' me," she corrects, as if that his answer enough.

"I dunno," Ren muses, "He didn't seem too upset. But whichever way you like it -- what's his problem wis' you, then?"

Safi looks glumly into her empty cup, and leans both elbows on the tabletop. She is frowning slightly, her hair still drying, though icicles no longer drip onto the floor. "I say'ed something bad, to him. And he is very angry wis' me, he hates me now."

Serendipity aws, and shifts to push his chair out a little from the table. "Here, c'mere," he invites, patting his lap, "and tell your dirty Uncle Ren all about it. What'd you say to him, mm? What's so terrible?"

Safi's brow furrows slightly, and she glances to him. "You are not dirty," she says quietly. She glances under the table. "Not like me," she adds, wrinkling her nose at the state of her legs and feet. Frowning slightly, she gets out of her chair. "I think I wash zis," she says, with the kind of sudden impatience of someone fed up with an unpleasant state. She heads for the kitchen, unbelting the tunic on the way; within three steps it is tugged over her head, with no apparent concern for modesty. She is \\headed\\ out of sight, of course, but it's obvious that propriety is not a major concern with the girl--since he gets a glimpse of thigh, and then the supple curves of her ass and lower back as she strides into the kitchen.

Serendipity watches her walk away, the tip of his tongue moistening his lips, and stands, murmuring, "...maybe not like =you=..." half under his breath... then follows her into the kitchen, like he was attached by a nice strong invisible thread.

Safi yanks off the tunic impatiently, and turns on the pump at the sink, filling the big basin with water. She rummages through cabinets until she can find some soap. Nakedness--stark, lean, voluptuous brown nakedness--doesn't seem to bother her at all. The wild-animal grace is even more apparent when one can see the play of muscle beneath her skin, the ripple through her back and shoulders as she reaches up to one of the top cabinets.

Serendipity leans against the counter, just watching her lean and turn and stretch for nigh on a whole minute before he produces the cake of soap she's been hunting for, and takes a few steps closer, offering it -- but not too far, not too easy to reach. "...so how about I wash your back?" he purrs, arching a brow questioningly.

Safi turns, blinking once at him, startled by the offer--but only for a moment. She is not innocent enough to miss his ulterior motive, and he sees a clear flicker of guardedness in her eyes. "O. K.," she agrees. "But only that. No... nothing else." Her eyes narrow a touch. "You undair-stand?"

Serendipity grins widely, giving his head a tiny flick to make the free strands of hair fly out of his face, and steps a little closer, giving Safi's cheek and neck a light stroke with his fingertips. "Don't worry, beautiful. Promise I wouldn't do anything you didn't like. A'ight?" He holds up his open hands in illustration of safety -- well, open but for keeping the soap there.

Safi purses her lips, her expression oddly reminiscent of the scolding of the unicorns. "Do not do anysing \\Jack\\ would no' like." She takes the soap from him and rubs lather into both hands, releasing plenty of soap into the water; then she splashes her breasts and shoulders and applies some more soap to herself before handing it back to him and neatly turning her back.

Serendipity strips off his coat, setting it carefully and neatly aside, then tossing his shirt off atop it. Hey, wouldn't do to get the gear all wet, right? Doesn't exactly detract from his appearance, either. "Ahhh, =Jack=," he replies as he settles behind her. "Lemme guess -- boyfriend?" he inquires, wetting the soap again, and starting to lather Safi's back, starting up at the neck.

Safi nods, muscles tense under his hands. "So," she says quietly, "Is only helping. Not... a mating thing."

She soaps her upper body and arms, a quick unmerciful scrubbing that only disturbs his work a little. Her hair, however, is a wreck; even pushed over to the front of her shoulder, the wet mass of it seems constantly in the way.

Serendipity has deft fingers, and they're doing their best to relieve some of that tension -- the neck muscles, to begin with, up to the nape, where the tangles of her hair begin. "Mmm," he replies noncommittally, and then, "...let's wash your hair. Got stuff for it. Yeah?"

"I will," Safi murmurs, reaching down to stir the sinkful of clothing. "Aftair, zis is done."

"Fair enough," Serendipity replies, with a little shrug, and continues washing -- though it's really more of a thorough backrub lubricated with lather. Starting at the neck, working slowly down the shoulders -- no hurry as far as he's concerned. "...always seemed strange to me," he comments, after a while.

It's not unlike the process by which a human makes a skittish animal calm down: as she grows accustomed to being touched, she begins to relax into his presence, and his hands. "What is strange?" she asks quietly, pausing in her work.

Serendipity continues the massage, firm but tender. Were he forced to list his talents, it probably ought to be among them -- if it came to mind. "Oh, the idea of agreeing to deny who you are and what you want because someone else isn't willing to deal with it. Volunteering to be caged," he muses conversationally. "Strange, you know?"

"It is--" Her voice betrays a certain discomfort. "It is only that I do not wish to hurt my Jack," she says quietly, ducking her head.

Serendipity continues the massage, gradually lower -- about breast-level, now, from spine to sides, working out each knot. "Mmm," he nods, leaning in a little closer -- putting a little more of his weight into the work. "I guess a lot of people think that kinda thing's noble though, right? Sacrificing your own desires to meet the desires of someone else? I just, y'know, I've never worked out how anyone who wanted me to do that'd be worth it. Can't see settling down with someone who didn't want me for who I am, not who they want me to be. Y'know? But that's just me -- I just find it strange, is all," he murmurs. The hands slip lower, making their way toward the waist and lower back.

"It is like... like hunting for someone. You love zem enough, to hunt more. Is hard work to hunt, but I do it. Because I love him." She swallows, and bows her head, leaning over to shift the garment in the water. "I love ozzer people, too," she says, subdued. "Only, I do not... mate, wis' zem."

"Really? He must do an awful lot for you, to deserve all that," Serendipity remarks, digging in firmly to the knots in the lower back, leaning in more to increase the pressure of his hands -- his chest presses lightly against her upper back, and he lets his chin just barely settle on her shoulder. The tone's still conversational. "Anyway, don't worry. I'm not saying he's demanding too much of you, caging you like that. It's =your= life -- so as long as you're happy, right, beautiful?" he concludes cheerfully.

"I am not always happy," she confesses. "But to make him sad, zis would be worse. So I ... do not have, so 'zat we are not all unhappy."

No one's in the diner right now -- but there's quiet noise from the kitchen, splashes of water and murmured conversation. The door's open -- inside, Safi is bathing, entirely naked. Serendipity's behind her, naked from the waist up, bare chest against her upper back, chin gently resting on her shoulder, both hands massaging soap lather against her skin, rubbing the knots out of the muscles of her lower back, around the sides of her waist, and just beginning to continue down to her behind. "...seems to me," he murmurs quietly, "a man who loves you oughta be happy when you're happy, 'n' unhappy if you're not. Maybe I'm bein' idealistic... but if I gotta give up parta me to make someone else not be unhappy, well. I'll pass. But I couldn't see bein' with someone who couldn't depend on himself for his own joy, anyway." He presses two tiny, gentle kisses to her skin, one on shoulder, one on neck, and shrugs, letting the muscles move against her. "But besta luck to you. 's like I said... I just think it's strange." Most of it isn't audible from more than a foot or two away, but the occasional word might carry.

Safi shivers, pressing into the sink to pull away slightly. Her voice is tight, angry. "Do not kiss. I told you. No... nothing else."

A brief lull in the fierce wind outside allows Justin to get into the diner with a minimal struggle with the door. He takes his cloak off, grumbling under his breath and shaking ice from his beard. Hanging his cloak up on the way, he heads for the kitchen--and stops dead in the doorway. His eyebrows shoot up, his eyes go very wide indeed, and he can't seem to move or say anything at all, only stand there, aghast.

Safi pulls her tunic from the sink, and the noise of trickling and running water patters into the basin; then she hoolds the garment up over her head and wrings it out, letting the droplets fall on her lathered shoulders.

Serendipity doesn't push, to his credit -- such as it is. "Aww. Sorry, beautiful. You can make a guy forget himself, y'know?" he apologises, taking a half-step back, and picks up a large glass, scooping it full of water to help rinse her off, with only the slightest ghosting of his hand across her back, squeegeeing soapy water away. The movement to refill the glass puts Justin in his range of vision, and he blinks, surprised. "...heya, Justin. You need a bath too?" he asks, flashing the man a broad grin.

Justin stares at Ren as if the dark young man had abruptly grown a tentacle for a nose. "...Forgive me for saying so, Safi," he says, although he's still looking, Very Meaningfully, at Ren, "but I do not think Jack would be very understanding of this."

Safi whirls, her eyes on the mage. If she was not aware, before, of being naked, she certainly is now. She holds the dripping mass of leather to her belly; above it the rise and fall of her chest betrays the pace of her breathing, the have intensified by uncomfortable feelings. Color surges to her face, and she says, quietly, "I think probably you are right. He \\say-ed\\ he would help, only. Not... not mating things." She shoots a betrayed, annoyed look at Serendipity. "It is stupid, for me to think I have any \\friend\\ in Haven." Turning away, she runs some fresh water, lets out the old, and rinses clothing and self with quick, angry efficiency. Her back is turned to them both, taut once more.

Serendipity gets to look betrayed and wounded now -- and the grin isn't even beneath it, for once. Not joking. "I was being good!" he protests -- to Safi; Justin can wait. "That wasn't -- I mean, a little kiss isn't, isn't "mating things." And I apologised, too -- c'mon, beautiful. I didn't know you counted it that way. Coyote's honour. An' I do wanna be your friend. 'kay? Swear." He ducks down to his coat, and rummages within it, concentrating a moment before he comes up with a fairly large, fluffy sheet of terry-cloth, which he holds out to her like a peace-offering.

Justin shoots Ren a look, while Safi isn't looking. Quietly he says, "Safi, you know that I will always be your friend. Don't you?" He sounds plaintive, looking worried now, and more so by the second.

You sense Justin's look is a combination of encouragement to keep apologizing, and warning that you might want a different tack.

"I do not know anysing." The terse voice fails to quite disguise her tears, but she covers the betrayal a little by wringing out her tunic again. She practically throws the wet garment on, and without looking to either of them turns and walks out the back, fast.

"...fuck," Serendipity sighs to himself, following her out at near top speed, Justin behind him. "Aw, c'mon, Safi!" Ren protests, "I fucked up, I'm sorry, honest. Y'can't go out wet in an ice storm, though, you'll freeze!" This from the guy who hasn't put his shirt back on, let alone the coat -- nor dried off. He follows, anyway, towel in hand. "C'mon, take this an' go in, =I'll= stay out here if you want instead, okay? C'mon, come back... please?"

"Safi, wait," Justin adds his plea to Ren's. "Can we talk? Please?"

The Diner offers a little shelter from the storm, but not much; the ground is hard and sharp with ice, the wind as well, sleet stinging bare skin wherever it may be found.

She whirls, the wind at her back throwing her hair forward into a damp veil over her shoulders. The loose leather tunic whips around her; she ties the belt around it with violent, angry jerks. The tears on her cheeks are likely not visible through the sleet, but her voice cracks when she asks, "Why?"

Serendipity sighs and sits on the chopping block, letting the storm coat his hair and bare skin with a layer of ice, and looking undeniably repentant and forlorn. If he keeps sitting out there in that state a whole lot longer, he'll probably die. Or at the least lose some of those massaging fingers. He doesn't even wrap the towel around himself, though.

"Because when you're angry with a friend, you should talk together and find out why," Justin says, so softly and gently that it's amazing he can be heard through the thinly keening wind. He can, though, effortlessly, his voice doesn't so much overpower the wind as slip around it entirely. He meets Safi's eyes, worried and wanting. "I don't want you to be angry with me, Safi." Ren, for this moment, he ignores.

"I am not angry with you," she says, a hint of hoarse desperation in the words. "Angry with him--" She points at the other man. "And with me, because I am stupid. And sad."

Serendipity's shivering, now. It doesn't take long when you're only half-clad in this weather -- and he's only human, by most measures. "You're not stupid, Safi. I'm stupid, okay? Ask anyone!" he replies, with a flamboyant gesture to take in the world at large, the towel trying to flap like a flag and failing because it's too heavy with ice now. "...c'mon, Safi... please forgive me?" He slips his way off the chopping block, onto his knees in the snow. "One more chance? I won't fuck it up. Promise. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? Just come back in and don't freeze, okay?"

Safi lets out an explosive breath, and glares over at Ren fiercely. "I do not freeze. You freeze. You go in."

Justin's lips quirk, despite his best efforts. "He is, in fact, stupid," he agrees with Ren, punctuating this by turning to tell Ren directly, "You're stupid. And she won't freeze. She is a mage." He looks back at Safi, mouth thin with unhappiness now. "Safi, if you need to go, then go. But please...when you can, come and talk to me? Please? I...I miss you, and you know that I love you."

Serendipity nods firmly in agreement. "I'm completely, totally, entirely stupid. An' I'm not going back in 'til you at least say you'll gimme another chance to be yer friend. So there! I'll just -- stand out here 'n' freeze!" He crosses his arms firmly across his chest, and stares back at her just as fiercely. And shivering madly. It doesn't LOOK like he's bluffing. But that would be... well, stupid.

Safi wraps both arms around herself, and looks back to Justin, her eyes sharp and shining. "I do not undair-stand, Justinn," she says brokenly. "I do things, you think are wrong things. Now Miklos, Anderja, zey will nevair be my friends. And you, and Miki--"

Justin eyes Ren balefully. "Get inside. I'm not going to be the one who wakes up Rowan to heal your frostbitten ass." The ice is building up quite enthusiastically in his own hair and particularly in his beard, making him look like some Viking frost giant, but he doesn't seem to care. Oddly enough, his glasses don't show so much as a spider's leg of ice. He turns back to Safi, with a sigh. "Safi, that is why we need to talk. Okay? I want you to understand what's happening, and that it does not make us...not be friends, anymore." That was graceful.

Serendipity just looks more stubborn. And colder. He does stand up, at least, but the arms stay crossed tight across his chest, and he doesn't move toward the Diner. His chin lifts just a touch, and his teeth clench against the shivering.

Safi ducks her head, her shoulders hunching. She has no real reaction to the cold, at least not visibly. "I do not do nossing right," she murmurs resignedly. Then she comes toward them, heading for the back door again. There is a pathetic quality about her, drooping head and hunched shoulders, like a child going to a scolding.

Justin sighs in relief and follows Safi back inside. He's probably assuming Ren will follow, or, he won't. If he doesn't, well, evolution is harsh.

Safi walks up the three steps, pulls open the back door, and enters the kitchen of the Ursa Diner.

"Uh... so does that mean you'll give me a second chance?" Serendipity asks after her, rather hopefully, but without following more than a couple steps, yet. His arms stay crossed, but the perceptive might note a shift from 'defiant' toward 'freaking cold'.

Safi answers with a gesture, pointing the man inside with a peremptory hand.

Serendipity's eyes glance upward in a silent thanks to whoever watches over him, and then he lets his head hang a little, and walks back into the kitchen, like a guilty (and very, very chilly) schoolboy.

Justin's first act upon reentering the safety of the Diner is to command something curtly in Latin; ice and frost starts evaporating off of him in faint curls and whisps of mist. He shivers now himself, rubbing his arms, and goes to stand in front of the fire, with a heavy sigh.

Safi slips through the curtain. She is not gone long; there is a rustling of wet leather, and a drip or two.

Serendipity shoves the towel back into hiscoat as he passes it, with not regard for the wetness of the thing, and then drags the shirt and coat behind him as he heads over to the stove, and crouches =way= too close to the thing to defrost -- practically embracing it.

"Won't do you any good if you burn yourself trying to thaw out," Justin tells Ren dryly. "You are a man of extremes, aren't you?"

Safi comes out with one of the blankets wrapped around herself, the leather tunic dangling from one hand. She tosses the latter over the makeshift clothesline, where her makeshidt footwear is already hanging.

Serendipity gives Justin a sheepish grin, and edges just a little bit away from the stove. "Well, no point living if you're not actually =living=, right?" He thaws out the worst bits, and sprawls on the ground beside the stove to wait for the rest to warm up.

Justin grins wryly at Ren, pulls out a nearby chair and sits down, rubbing his damp beard. He looks up at Safi, mouth quirked in fond chagrin. "Safi. I want to tell you that your doing something wrong does not mean that I now look upon you with disdain and contempt. -Everybody- screws up; God knows I do it enough. It happens. It is not the end of the world."

"I do it at least twice a day," Ren volunteers helpfully.

Safi stands further from the fire than either of them. She looks at the floor, shading tear-streaked cheeks with the fall of her hair. "You do not think I am-- bad, I am evil, for hurting Miki and doing things wrong, always?"

"Oh, Safi," Justin says, his voice rich with helpless amusement and affection. "Of course I don't. And you don't always do things wrong. And even if you -did- I would still love you, so put -that- in your pipe and smoke it. My dear, you first met human society less than a year ago, look how well you're doing! You may be psychic but you cannot know the heart of every person, nor can you make every person happy. It's the variety and chaos of mankind that we are thus."

Serendipity stays out of this, just watching. His hair's gone from iced to sopping wet as the water melts, and he reaches back to release it from the ponytail, but doesn't say a word. He can do that once in a while. Really.

Safi looks across to Justin, worry in her eyes. For a moment she only looks: reading him, as she always does, looking for the emotions under the words. Then she crosses to him and slides her arms around to hug him tightly, her body radiating warmth through his clothing, the blanket enveloping them both.

Justin wraps his arms tightly around Safi with a relieved sigh, holding her snugly and rocking her for a moment. He presses a kiss to her forehead.

Serendipity gives a relieved little sigh himself, and he's not even forgiven yet. As far as he knows. He relaxes a bit, though, almost finished defrosting.

Safi leans her head against Justin's shoulder, her eyes closed. She seems perfectly happy to stay there, and the warmth is ass blissful as standing by the fire.

Justin seems to slowly come to the realization that Safi is, in fact, pressed naked against him, and he swallows, and over her head flicks Ren a glance that suggests it's his turn for apologies, please. His arms are still around her, though, his hands gentle on her bare skin. He's also flushing.

Serendipity is briefly torn. On the one hand, something deeply imbedded in his nature can't help enjoying Justin's gradually growing discomfort... but on the other hand, hey, Justin was helping him out. Kinda. Plus, why should the mage get all the warm naked Safi? Ren wrings water out of his hair, looking into the fire in the stove for a moment, then looks sideways up at Safi. "Hey, beautiful. ...Really am sorry. See, for me, it's like... I kiss people all the time, y'know? I mean, sometimes 'cause I'm hitting on 'em, but mostly 'cause, y'know, I like someone. Friends, yeah? I honestly didn't mean to get into stuff you consider mating," he explains with apologetic sincerity, and lifts a hand in an oath, "...Coyote's honour." He hesitates a moment, and then brightens suddenly, which might not bode well. "Look -- see?" he asks, popping up in one of those surprisingly quick moods to take Justin's cheeks in each hand and give the mage a quick kiss on the lips, nearly cartoon style. He drops back down to sitting, afterward. "An' I'm not even flirting with him at th' moment or anythin'."

The attention to Justin brings the barest flicker of a scowl, but after that Safi's expression softens a little. She draws away from the mage, wrapping herself up again, looking like nothing so much as an Indian princess when she lifts her chin imperiously. "Very well," she says, doing her best to look down her nose the way Sazabhadri does. She doesn't quite pull it off. "I will not make mistake again, of letting you."

Justin mmfs! as he's kissed. He eyes Serendipity narrowly, and with the air of pronouncing a weighty and damning judgement, intones, "You, sir, are -impertinent-." However, the effect is somewhat spoiled when Safi picks herself up off him and he sits up straight with great haste, tugging down his rumpled sweater.

Serendipity gives Justin an annoyingly knowing and rather amused crooked half-smile. "I am," he agrees with only half sincere (if that) repentance. "Impertinent, insolent, saucy, brazen, fresh, impudent, imprudent, audacious, reckless, wayward, capricious, and according to Miki, bold and bogaras," he rattles off, giving his head a sad shake. Such a burden he bears. "...anyway," he says more seriously to Safi, "...I guess that's fair 'nough. But gimme the chance to make it up, yeah? Over time."

Serendipity pages the room: Serendipity | "I am also a thesaurus."
Justin pages the room: Ahahaha.

Safi sniffs, and looks over at the fire. "Maybe," she says, "you try not to touch." Her expression clouds, then, touched with worry. "Jack will be angry."

Justin looks over the tops of his glasses at Serendipity, a look that agrees strongly with Safi's last statement and suggests not to try the truth of it. Also a somewhat wry look that says he knows firsthand. The wizard is simply brimming with meaningful glances tonight.

"So don't tell him," Serendipity replies matter-of-factly, with a little shrug. "...and if it hasta be, it hasta be. No touchie. ...Unless you start it. Or you need saving from something, or something."

Safi looks over her shoulder to Serendipity, then, an uncomprehending look, her brow furrowed.

"He means he won't touch you unless he would have to do so to save you from harm," Justin says, helpfully.

Serendipity nods, and points to Justin. "Right. What he said." He leaves out the 'starting it' part. For now.

Safi nods curtly, and looks back to the stove, watching water evaporate from her hanging garments. "Good."

Justin quirks an eyebrow at Safi, then at Serendipity, half-apologetic. He gets up, stretching until his back pops. "All right. Back to bed for me. Good night." He touches Safi's shoulder with a smile for her, and nods to Ren, his smile turning wry, and collects his cloak, settling it onto his shoulders with a surprisingly dramatic flourish.

Safi turns to Justin, and a hand sneaks out from the blanket's edge to touch his. "You stay warm, stay well, out of storm," she says quietly, her expression sober.

Serendipity gives Justin a rather subtle resigned shrug, palms turning upward -- chicks, what can ya do? "Nice seein' you again, Justin. Catch ya 'round..." He shifts, pulling his knees up toward his chest, and wraps his arms around them, looking into the fire of the stove and moping.

"That's the plan," Justin smiles to Safi, catching Ren's shrug with the slightest of nods. He steels himself, opens the door, and plunges into the storm which despite the late hour, is still going strong. He can just be heard swearing frightfully at the weather before the wind slams the door shut.

"You stay here," Safi says with some authority, glaring at Ren as she steps forward to get down her dry, stiff leathers. She takes them to the other side of the curtain, to change.

Serendipity sighs. "I'm stayin', beautiful," he assures her with tired resignation, and he is, too. With a rare edge of wounded dignity, he adds, after a moment, "...gave my word, didn't I? Didn't even break it the first time, we just miscommunicated." Pout.

She doesn't answer--just paces out with the blanket in her arms, dressed once again. Without speaking to him, she disappears into the kitchen and rummages around in there for a brief time.

Serendipity stays right where he is. Like a good boy. Whether he's being one or just impersonating one could probably be debated for hours, but why bother?

After a time, he hears the back door open and close.

Serendipity sighs, and flops down on his back, arms stretched out above his head, hair splayed all over the floor. He's quiet for long enough to be pretty darn sure he's actually alone before he mutters with frustration, "....=women=. ...I really gotta give 'em up."