etrayalogs | (open)

[After spending several decades in Hell it's been an awful nice change to be here. As a general rule he wasn't having a lot of luck interacting with the world or the people here but it was still way better then Hell. Especially when people put messages about making focaccia. Fuck it'd been so long since he's had some, and if the dudes from Italy? Then holy shit is it bound to be good! Especially considering that this place had all sorts of fresh ingredients which had pretty much been the best thing about it.

So as he found his way to the specified apartment with his stomach was clearly leading the charge as he gives a knock to the slightly ajar door announcing his presence as he sort of dips through the doorway, since he's a good solid foot or more over the height of the doorframe.]

Hello?

[He calls out, mismatched eyes glancing around for the host.]

Hello,

[ Nicky calls, pleasantly, approaching the door. His eyes give his new guest a quick once-over, checking for weapons, injuries, and then he turns and gestures to the tables, where fresh food is beckoning. ]

Please, come in. What can I get you?

[He doesn't have any weapons, unfortunately, and he's not injured either. All of his bullshit of this world thus far had been mostly mental. The creatures he'd helped capture had been easy, the doppelgänger? Not so much.

But that was in the past and thankfully that shithead was gone. Though it seemed at times he wasn't entirely forgotten...

But none of that matters now. Angel just about floats over to that table of food like a cartoon. Exceedingly long legs making short work so he can actually look at everything.]

Fuck... That smells amazing.

[Introductions? What are those? He's really only in it for the food if he's honest, he swears he'll come back to it but he just has to drink in all the lovely smell and sights of whats in front of him.]

[ Hunger can be cruel. Nicky knows. Starvation once licked at his insides too well. So there is no issue of manners. ]

Help yourself. There is plenty to go around.

[ And he's not objecting to making more - he has plenty of ingredients and cookies besides. ]

[He doesn't really look like he eats much, which he really didn't before getting here for a number of reasons, but since he got here it feels a little like all he does.]

Ain't you expecting more people? I mean you put out the invite t'the whole network and all...

I can make more. It is no trouble.

[ Thankfully, lack of fresh ingredients is not a problem here. ]

If you have a sweet tooth, there are still cookies from earlier.

[ Like. There are a lot of cookies. On the kitchen counter. ]

[They are not, that's all you got to say to him. He was polite, as much as he could be, he let the other offer twice and the offer hadn't changed.]

I ain't much of a sweets guy as a general rule and especially not when there's way better options.

[He is a total starch guy. He very happily cuts himself off a piece of the flat bread and helps himself making contented little noises as he munches away. He absolutely savours it like someone who hasn't eaten something like that in years.

Which he hadn't. It'd been fucking decades. Before he even has the first piece down the hatch he's using one of the secondary sets of hands to slice himself off another piece. The unexpected benefit to having two sets of visible arms; more ability to shovel.]

Fuck this is good. You really make this? You ain't like, makin' the bots do it and sayin' its all you ya?

[ Nicky has never met anyone with four arms. ]

[ So he does... linger, but not impolitely. Just enough to accept that this is life now. There are people with four arms. But that doesn't matter much, because they enjoy food just the same, and that's what's important to Nicky. ]

Not at all, [ Nicky smiles. ] This is all my doing.

[Technically he has six. Though one set is currently tucked away and is virtually invisible unless he so chooses to bring them out.

But he's getting used to the stares as thus far he seems to be the oddest looking selection that Echo has plucked from a world, at least outwardly, and at least this one isn't followed by calling him an alien, or a mascot, or a coat rack. It doesn't bother him, but it is starting to get annoying.]

I ain't had anything like this since nonna used t'make it for cena della domenica.

[ooc; fun fact i don't speak Italian but Angel can, if the conversation turns more to Italian from this point it will likely be represented as English but italicized. I used a translator for the above except for nonna that I technically knew. xD]

[ Nicky's eyes widen, simply a fraction. Then, he smiles, very brilliantly, as if Angel is an old and dear friend. ]

Ah, what high praise. [ Then, lightly, ] Buon appetito.

[ ooc: no worries, I don't speak Italian either but Nicky does; will italicise further! ]

Buon appetito. [If there's one thing he loves more than drugs and sex, it's food and since there isn't much of the former there he'll drink in the latter. Or rather shovel in.]

Hers was better, but this is a pretty good substitute.

[In typical Italian-American he blends, and some of his words might seem slightly off as though he hasn't spoken said language in some time. Which he hadn't.]

So what'da want in return?

[Cause clearly he probably has an ulterior motive for wanting to break bread with a bunch of strangers. He looks around the tablet for a plate to scoop up some of the actual parmigiana now as well because well he doesn't give a shit if the other has an ulterior motive. He's hungry. Watching him move his various arms around the table each one preforming a separate task yet somehow moving all as one unit is likely mesmerising.]

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