There's a roasted turkey sitting on the counter, steaming. There's also, on the floor, a muddle of cooked beans, broken pot, and water. There is no Rowan.

Serendipity comes in from outside in a heck of a hurry, coated in ice despite his wintery clothes -- which he divests himself of quicker than a stripper with a 10 second slot. Not =everything=, mind, but the hat, gloves, and scarf get tossed on the tabletop, the coat and shirt draped over the makeshift clothesline he hung before, and he drops to his knees by the stove to defrost before he starts looking around for signs of other occupation... and the source of the rather tasty smell. The kitchen's the obvious place to check. Turkey! And... floor bean casserole. Hmm.

In the back door stomps Rowan, with only a slight touch of ice to him. Maybe he was off at Sashenka's house, getting the dustpan and brush that he carries with him. "Hi," he says, shortly, and starts glopping the beans up into the dustpan.

"Heya, handsome," Serendipity greets lazily, taking up a comfortable lean against the edge of the kitchen doorway. "Dinner smells great. ...You wanna hand with anything?"

Rowan gives Ren a brief, grumpy look, and shakes his head abruptly. He dumps the beans into the trash can slightly more energetically than necessary, and disappears briefly into the kitchen. He comes out with bread, cheese, and a knife, which he offers to Ren. "Cut th' turkey. I ain't got the patience. An'," he adds, the picture of stubbornness, "I ain't handsome."

Serendipity accepts the knife, and strolls over to the turkey, regarding it thoughtfully before glancing over his shoulder at Rowan, giving him a thorough, appraising examination. "....Nah, beg to differ. Def'nitely handsome. Though if you prefer, I'm willing to go with 'hot'," he muses conversationally, and goes back to figuring out where to cut the bird. Eh, how hard can it be? He stabs it in the stomach, apparently acting out psycho-killer fantasies or something. "Die, bird! This is what happens to those who oppose us.... Grr."

"Well, what I /prefer/," Rowan says, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, "is not to be told anything much about my looks from someone I've just /met/."

Serendipity sighs, glancing heavenward with a flash of uncharacteristic annoyance. "Fine," he replies, and hacks at the turkey with more actual aggression for a few moments, muttering to himself. "Fucking townful of gorgeous people and everyone's too busy enjoying the sticks up their asses to appreciate it..."

Rowan leans back slightly, with the slightest of actual amused grins on his face. "/I/ appreciate it." Then the grin vanishes. "Just not from someone I ain't even officially /met/ yet. I got boundries, see."

Serendipity shears various slices of meat off the turkey, quite quickly. They're acceptable. "You're Rowan Congreve, we met when I ended up in town, you produced dandelion wine at the time, and yesterday you were busy cleaning butterscotch pudding off the ceiling. What's with everyone around here forgetting they met me? A guy could get a complex." Oh, look -- bones!

"I'm Rowan, I'm a stubborn ass, I'm also Shadows the Edges an' a Garou, an' I'm kind of the official Diner minder, although it ain't mine. What I really mean ain't that we ain't been introduced, although we ain't, I really just mean I don't /know/ you." He shrugs. "I'm weird that way. Willin' to /get/ to know you, though. An' once I do, you'll find th' stick up my ass resides there on a fairly permanent basis."

Serendipity may be In A Mood, but it's not enough to let him resist. "Yeah? How d'you feel 'bout having it wriggled around?" He finds a plate and puts the turkey on it, somewhat cheerier again, and turns, making a flamboyant bow to Rowan. "Serendipity Jones, sometimes a stubborn ass, mostly a pain in the ass, no ritename but there isn't time in the night to list everything I've been called, Coyote's kin, etc. How's that?"

Rowan gives Ren a long look. "About the same as you'd expect," he says, remarkably calmly. "Glad t'meet you. I think."

Miki enters from the kitchen door sans cloak, his hair looking a little windblown, the tips of a few stray locks still wet and dripping. "I am tired of the wind," he complains plaintively.

Serendipity grins slightly crookedly at Rowan, and sets the rest of the meat slices on the plate, and the drumsticks as well. "Pleased t'meetcha too. 'I think'." He dusts off his hands, stabs the knife into the breastbone of the bird so the handle sticks straight up, and then brightens as Miki enters. "Heya, gorgeous!" he exclaims, the usual grin suddenly back in place. "Glad t' see you haven't been blown away."

Rowan shrugs at Ren, a sincere if uncomfortable smile rising on his face. "I ain't int' politeness f'politeness sake." His smile turns far less uncomfortable as Miki appears, and he drifts toward him. "Hey, hi, you. Want some tea?"

Miki smiles at Rowan, an expression more of the eyes than of the mouth. "Yes, please, I am frozen through. It is a lazy wind, it cannot be bothered to go around you." He glances over at Ren and gives him a quirk of a grin. "I do not think anyone has been blown all away yet, even in this storm."

Serendipity grins back, crossing his arms loosely across his chest, and leaning against the edge of the counter. "...well, hey, if you're not busy tonight," he replies flippantly, and gives Miki a quick, playful wink.

Rowan ducks under the counter and heads into the kitchen, where he fetches some of the water that's on a fairly constant boil, these days. He deposits a mug next to Miki and leans into him slightly, before disappearing again to fetch some tomato soup, as well.

Miki shrugs his shoulder against Rowan, a quick, almost catlike caress, before Rowan is off again and out of range. "But we are always busy in Haven," he replies, far too innocently, to Ren. "If we are not predicting doom, we are feeding baby unicorns in the Diner."

"Well, baby unicorns might be a bit much, but hey, if predicting doom works for you, I'm flexible," Ren muses with mock-gravity, and heads over to collect a cup of tea himself. It =was= cold out there.

Rowan deposits a bowl of soup where Ren was, and offers Miki one as well. "I think Robin's got the market cornered on predicting doom, really."

"No, she does not," mutters Miki, apparently to the soup bowl he is accepting from Rowan. He sits down at the counter and concentrates, for the moment, on absorbing heat.

Serendipity comes back to take the soup, with a rather quiet "Thanks," and smile for Rowan. He leans against the counter and eats as well, silent for several moments, looking out into the storm with a difficult to read expression -- restless, in part, like a caged animal. He shakes his head to drive it off, and drains a good portion of the tea. "I don't get all this focus on doom. Don't y'all ever predict, I dunno, triumph? Joy? =Fun=? Shit like that?"

Rowan mutters, "Su/pose/ not," at Miki, and flops into a chair next to him. Then he blinks at Ren. "Can I give you my speech?" He looks at Miki. "Can I give him my speech?"

Miki looks at Ren, opens his mouth, then closes it again as Rowan speaks. He grins. "You do not need to ask permission of *me,* Rowan. You have lived here much longer than I have!"

"Speech away," Serendipity replies magnanimously, with a vague wave of a hand, "...I didn't have any other plans for t'night." A pause, and with unquashable eternal hope, "...yet." He grins wickedly over his cup of tea and adds in his most innocent tones, "I'd mention that you've got a sexy voice, anyway, but you claim not to like any action on that stick of yours."

"The thing of it is," Rowan says, majestically ignoring Ren's innocent tones, "When I talk about doom, anyways, I ain't serious. Because there's some dangerous shit here, but," he repeats, "The thing of it is, things /happen/ here. People can have random magical experiences, be touched, in the best ways, by things they couldn't imagine being touched by, anywhere else. Find magic they might not find other places. There are things open, here, that are open nowhere else. And it's not just the magic -- I have found dear friends here, people who I had thought would only be enemies, people I would never have expected to meet anywhere else. It's a be-darked /crossroads/, it is, fulla joy, fulla fun, fulla all /kinds/ of shit." A little quieter, he adds, into his soup, "And I love it."

Miki smiles into his soup, a very broad smile which the soup surely does not deserve. "Katahdin is a *good* place," he says, glancing up at Rowan. He kicks his boots off under his stool and pads on stocking feet to be closer to the woodstove. "And you do not predict fun," he adds, with a sly grin. "You just have it."

Serendipity listens, finishing off his meal, and nods, pointing a finger at Rowan and straightening up. "See, now, that's more like it," he declares, and swings the finger over to Miki as he heads over to check whether his shirt, at least, is dry yet. "And =that's= even more like it." The shirt's ready; he slips it back on, but doesn't tuck it in, then pulls his coat down and slips it on as well. "I like it okay, so far. Figure I'll stay here a while..." Another glance to the storm outside, and the restlessness returns a moment, making a strange counterpoint to the comment.

Despite Rowan's earlier combativeness, he says, with all evidence of meaning it, "Good." Then, with a smile that stays mostly in his eyes, he adds, "Maybe if you stay 'round long enough, you c'n get someone t'react right t'a compliment."

Miki turns and looks at the storm raging outside. "No one likes to be trapped, even in here," he says, involuntarily rubbing his upper arms with his hands, as if he were cold.

Serendipity hehs at Rowan, and rummages within his coat until he comes up with a little bronze flask, which he opens and sniffs suspiciously. "Hey, =some= people don't mind a little honest appreciation," he protests mildly, and bats his lashes teasingly at Miki. He stretches out in one of the chairs, heels up on the corner of the table, and pours some of the golden-orange liquid from the flasklet into his empty tea cup, then offers the container to the others. "...yeah, though. Not even in here."

Rowan doesn't, despite what one might expect, bridle at Ren's attentions to Miki; he merely eyes one of the windows. "Yeah." He sounds glum. "And I have to patrol out there soon."

Miki turns from the window in time to see Ren teasing him. He smiles at Ren, one corner of his mouth pulling back into a sly grin, then sees the flask. "What is that?" he asks, curiously. On hearing Rowan's declaration, he turns and gives him a commiserating look. "You must not get lost," he demands.

Serendipity sips from his teacup, considers a moment, and decides, "...tasty. Wow. Tastes a lot like... some stuff I tried in a city a year or so ago." He considers a moment. "Cognac. That's what it said it was." He leans across to hand the flask off to Miki, and wrinkles his nose at Rowan. "What're you patrolling for?" he asks, "...the abominable snowman?"

Reluctantly, Rowan gets to his feet. "Well, you know, random Urge Lords could well choose now to unload on the Caern, because they figure /sane/ people aren't gonna be out in this. So the /insane/ go patrolling." He drifts over to give Miki a hug. Into his shoulder, he says, "Not planning to get lost, no." He lingers a moment, then shakes himself, shifts down into hispo, and speeds out the back door.

Miki looks sadly after Rowan, absently sitting down on the nearest chair. Then he realizes that he's holding the flask that Serendipity handed him. He looks at it, then sniffs at it with an air of inquiry. His eyebrows ascend abruptly. "Sa, that is strong!"

Serendipity waves to Rowan with his cup, then lifts it to Miki in a mock-toast. "And tasty. Oughta make the most of it, 's better'n the rotgut I usually find in here," he advises, indicating the inside of his coat vaguely. "Sometimes," he muses, "I wonder whether this stuff comes from anywhere in particular. And if anyone misses it." He ponders this for a moment, then decides cheerfully, "...sucks to be them!"

Miki stares at Ren for a moment, then gives an undignified snort of laughter. "You do not know what is in your coat?" He eyes the garment for a moment. "I do not think I would be comfortable wearing it, myself."

Serendipity grins, and stretches a bit, then plucks at the edges of his coat, peering inside. "Well... it hasn't eaten me yet. More's th' pity. Nah, it doesn't do unexpected stuff or anythin'. Much. But there's... I think there might be =everything= in the coat, actually."

"Everything?" asks Miki, raising one eyebrow. "That is a great many things. I do not know anyone else who can claim to have *everything.*" He smiles a little after the teasing, then gets up and wanders towards the kitchen with the air of someone who needs more than tomato soup for dinner.