View source for Logs:Groceries And Purposes

{{Log 
| content-warning=
| cast=[[Sturm]] and [[Teagan]]
| setting=The [[Direct Action]] House
| log=It's late, and Teagan has been out most of the day. He had errands to run - Sigrún doesn't like going to the grocery store in the middle of the week right now, because Weis Markets fries chicken all day long during the work week and Wegmans has big carryout lunch things during the week and both of them have really strong smells so Teagan has to go to the store ("and actually pay for the groceries this time, please, you can't Light-Shy while you're driving my truck") - but now he's home! With groceries. 

He unlocks the door and hip-checks it open, leaving it hanging as he drops two paper bags full of groceries on the counter, then the gallon of milk that was hanging from one hand, and turns around to go bring in another load. "It's just me," he calls, just loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear, but not so loud that he might wake people up.

Sturm has been sitting on the couch the whole time, messing around and playing some kind of game on her Very Legally Purchased switch. Unfortunately the big thing about being an incredibly powerful Winter is that... sometimes people just literally do not see you when they're otherwise occupied with a task.

"Hey," Sturm offers from beside coat rack when Teagan comes back through. "Is there enough left in the truck that I should help?"

Though, the fact that she's considering putting on a jacket is made very funny by the fact that she's barefoot and wearing tiny shorts and a crop top.

"Oh, hey doll." Yeah, that does sometimes happen. "There's probably one or two more loads after this, I can get it," he assures her, coming back in with a second load. "This was only a little run."

A little run, in which they've already brought in 5 bags and 3 gallons of milk. Look, to be fair, there are eight people in this motley, two of whom are more than six and a half feet tall, most of whom are athletic as hell, and one of whom is pregnant. That's about right. Down go the bags, and they ask, "Whatcha up to?" as they open the fridge door and find room for the gallons of milk. (edited)

"Hey." It's an exchange they've had hundreds and hundreds of times at this point, but even so Sturm still has the same crinkle at the corner of her eye, and the same fond smile.

"Earnestly? Nothing at all," she leans an elbow on the counter. "It's been a slow night. Nearly got everything squared away at the shop. Opening should be lovely, but I think this might be the first time I've had idle hands in months." 

Sturm offers a little shrug. She's a night owl, it is known.

"... which is to say I'm bored out of my skull, please put me to work."

She breaks into a grin.

Their lazy smile answers hers. "Come on, then," Teagan adds, swatting at her backside and heading for the door. "We'll get it all put away."

"You settling back in okay, doll? Visitors projecting their problems onto us aside?" And of course he holds the storm door for her, because what kind of butch would he be otherwise? There are 4 more bags, and Teagan leans over the tailgate to grab two of them. They don't wait for her to put on shoes or anything, because... snow? Winter? Barefoot? Pshhh.

Sturm is literally made of ice. She doesn't even need the coat, save for fashion. There's a puff of laughter as she steps down off the porch and heads down to the truck to assist.

"Yeah, it's been fine. Philly is great, you know? Plus... even if I wasn't settling back in, I've got my family here. I'd put up with quite a lot of shit I didn't like for you lot, so this is a breeze." 

Sturm leans over the side of the truck to grab the remaining bags, cradling them both in one arm as she makes sure the tailgate is up and locked.

"Plus, the freehold's solving problems without me -- not that it wasn't while I was gone, but its nice to know I don't have to step in and be hands-on with shit unless I want to."

"It makes me a little less freaked-out about the whole thing, I will admit." The way Teagan tips his head towards the house a little bit explains what the whole thing is. You know. The Thing. "It's nice to not be needed where that's concerned."

He walks back ahead of her, tugs the door open again, and holds it for her. "Philly is pretty fucking great, though. I loved the other night. Just... the energy on South Broad... fuck. It was so good." A beat. "Did you see those jackasses who fell through the bus shelter roof?"

A bus shelter collapsing under the weight of several fans was captured on video and shared across social media. Three people were taken to the hospital, and one of them shared her story.

"Yeah... fuckin' dipshits," Sturm offers a puff of laughter. It might sound derisive, but the smile implies a term of endearment. "Absolutely wild, but hey. It's hard to fault the energy."

She steps inside, bringing the groceries into the kitchen, and setting them down onto the counter. She swings past the coffee machine, turning it on in preparation to make herself a cup.

"Dumb question. You ever spend time in public, and just... not know what to do with your hands?"

Once they get inside, Teagan stands back to close the door behind Sturm, locking it up reflexively. He carries up the last two bags, sets them down, and grunts in amusement. "Yeah." There's affection in the sound they reply with. This is the trash city of their soul, after all. "Just glad no one was really hurt. It'd be pretty fucked up to have someone get really hurt. Lucky that way, I think." And a little turn of their head towards Sturm as if to say he doesn't actually believe it's all luck. 

"Probably a wizard does it or something." Yeah. A wizard did it. That's a pretty good explanation for a lot of things in Philly, after all. He goes to hang up his coat, and Baby, by the door, and then comes back to start putting away the groceries. It's a boring task, but it's less annoying when you're doing it with someone. "Well, yeah, whenever any of youse are around, because I'm trying to remember not to grab your ass."

"Seriously though, sometimes. Why?"

"I mean. I just assume some weird shit is responsible for everything that happens everywhere in the whole damned world at this point... but Philly definitely has a wizard. At least one." There's a puff of laughter from Sturm, and she starts putting away the refrigerated stuff first. Milk. Eggs. Cheese. Etcetera.

"I dunno. I never knew what to do with mine for my whole damned life. S'why I started smoking, I think. Nerves are a bitch, but they're a real bitch when you just have these big, long fuckin' arms and nowhere to put 'em." Sturm pulls a mug down from the cabinet and slides it over to the coffee machine. "... but now I'm not the big, smoking woman anymore, and I just shove my hands in my pockets because I have no idea what to do with 'em." There's a beat amidst this weird little tangent. "I dunno, I just wondered if anyone else was like that-- and do you want a cup of coffee, Tea?" (edited)

"Oh, no, we got a bunch of wizards. Johnnie's friends with 'em. I met some of 'em, but like, we ain't friends. I have enough shit going on without being friends with fucking wizards." A pause. "I mean, maybe they're cool, I dunno. But I ain't friends with any of 'em really." Teagan, since Sturm is starting on the colds, starts on the pantry stuff. This house goes through a lot of boxed cereal, including all the stuff with marshmallows that Teagan has to remember to buy for Glitch and Sam. Bonus for the cereal which is chocolate and also has marshmallows. 

He pauses, and ticks his tongue against the roof of their mouth. "Oh, that." Teagan grunts. "That's why I put my hands in my pockets all the time, or hook my thumbs on the pockets of my coat, yeah. I used to smoke fucking constantly, just... complete chain-smoker. It was part of the whole 'I want to die' thing. June got me to quit. But yeah, that's also why I'm grabbing ass all the time, it's funny and hey, at least then I'm doing something with 'em." 

Once the cereal and spaghetti and mac and cheese gets put away, he starts folding up some of the empty paper bags. "Yeah, coffee's good. Hey, are you going with the diplomatic mission out to Lancaster?"

"Yeah I dunno if I believe that. I put out a note at Maddy's the other month looking to get into contact with one of them for a plan I had, but I got no bites. Which is a damned shame, since a wizard probably could've helped out real nice and easy... but I guess wizarding is hard and time-consuming. No time for waffles."

This is all said in the same deadpan tone that most of Sturm's words are spoken, but Teagan knows her quite well enough to realize she's doing a bit.

"... but yeah. That tracks, but I'm not much for public butt-grabbing," Sturm smirks. "Too winter for public displays of sexuality. Plus, you know what?"

Sturm pulls a second mug down from the cabinet, and slides it over to the coffee machine before facing Teagan.

"Can you believe that people think I'm scary? That little bird girl -- Avery? -- she came by the shop while I was setting up to tell me we shared a durance, and I think she thought maybe I was going to wad her up into a little ball and throw her into the sun given how scared she was."

He snorts, then, stacking up the bags and putting them away in the cupboard where they go until they're turned into bags for the recycling. Teagan finishes putting away the canned goods next, listening to Sturm talk. "I dunno. Maybe you have to like, know a secret password. Johnnie definitely knows wizards, though. Unless she's lying to me, but Johnnie wouldn't lie to me."

Teagan hops up onto the counter, now that stuff's put away. "That's why I only grab you butt secretly in public. When only I can see." Their broken-mirror eyes glitter amusement. "Hmm?"

They press their lips together while Sturm talks, absently tugging on the silver pendant they wear now with the stag's antler carved into it. Their symbol of Frey. If Teagan ever worshipped anything, it was going to have to be a god with a big dick, after all. And by the end of it, he's snickering. "Avery? The raven? Yeah, doll, I have no idea why a little raven girl would be scared of an eight-foot-tall Jotunn. Did you ask her if One-Eyed Dickmonster took her?"

"Nah, nah. I didn't ask. If I'm being honest, I don't care all that much? It is pretty fucking disconcerting that we have yet another escapee, but..." Sturm turns back to putting away groceries. "She certainly remembered me. Locked away in a little prison beneath a mountain. Still," Sturm shrugs. "Gone are my table-throwing days. I don't have it in me to get angry about that. Especially not at someone who was a passive participant at best."

"I was considering going out to Lancaster to help out... but I'm also more than a little worried my presence would do more harm than good. Especially given that I'm a nine-foot-tall giant with knuckles like an MMA fighter, and talking isn't really my wheelhouse. You know?" (edited)

"Fair, fair." Teagan considers, rubbing a thumb along his jaw. "You're pretty sexy when you throw things, though. Just saying, that's prolly why. I know it sucks to have people pull away from you and be scared, though." They tip their head to the other side, turning to face her more fully, reflecting back bits of her in their broken-mirror eyes. 

"Mmm. Well. Someone's got to make sure they get there," they point out. "And I figured you and I could go along and just make sure their asses come back in one piece." Beat. "I like Jack's ass, I want it back."

"That's fair," Sturm offers a slow nod... and fortunately it is at this point that the coffee pot announces its wonderful bounty with a series of beeps. She reaches over to pour two cups, and stops to doctor Teagan's to specification before sliding it over.

"Yeah, fair. I'll think about it, but I'm sure you've noticed. I've been in a self-reflective state so I'm questioning whether my skills and personality are actually of value to the world."

This, again, is said in the Joking Deadpan... but there's a kernel of truth there. (edited)

Light but not sweet, just the same way he likes his women. Wait. 

Hmmm.

Anyway, he sips at his coffee, listening as Sturm talks. And then he stops. "Wait. You're serious. You're... actually questioning whether your skills and personality are of value to the world?"

"I mean," Sturm offers a shrug. "Why do we need so many people whose entire shtick is beating people bloody and -- did you know that there's enough concentrated acid in pineapple to tenderize a frozen steak to the point of being mush in about an hour and a half? Surely you can imagine a creative reason I might know that."

There's a pause, and she sips her own coffee in silence. "I dunno, I'm just tired. I had hoped taking it easy would make me less tired, but the more I rest -- the more I think about life and family -- the more I'm sure I wanna do the Boots On The Ground thing anymore, you know?" (edited)

"I... am probably not the person to give you a pep talk or to agree with you that we have too many people capable of kicking ass," Teagan answers, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a wry half-smile. "That's sort of like... my whole... thing."

"What would you rather do instead?"

"... that's fair," Sturm returns the wry smile. "... and unfortunately, I have no fucking clue. Ennui is a bitch, and I really want to smoke a cigarette, but I need to not do that for reasons."

She gestures around the house as if Reasons are obvious, and in all honesty, they are.

"... I guess maybe what I want to do is take a back seat to whoever else wants to step up, for starters. I handed off a bunch of business to Asbolus the other night, and he did a great job at taking care of it. That was a big fuckin' load off my mind."

He scratches his chin again, takes another sip of his coffee. "It would do pretty well for both of us to do a little bit less, all things considered." All things considered is a sister to Reasons. They're gonna have a lot of shit to do seven or eight months from now. "I'm glad you handed some stuff off to him. Probably good that you did."

"But for now," and he hops down from the counter and crosses to tug the elastic off the end of her braid. "Time to stop thinking, doll." And let someone else think for a while.

}}