entrancelogs | [OPEN, DINER CATCH-ALL] war, children, it's just a shot away

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[OPEN, DINER CATCH-ALL] war, children, it's just a shot away

Who: EVERYONE (Yes, even Mirrors.)
Where: Eighth Floor Diner
When: 12/18
Rating: PG to PG-13
Summary: With the help of a Japanese schoolgirl, one man overcomes his neurosis and invites literally everyone to the diner.
The Story:

[Ned wasn't optimistic at the beginning - matter of fact, Ned never starts out thinking optimistically about anything, simply as a force of habit. Healthy paranoia, often misconstrued as abject pessimism, is what weighs heavily on the Pie Maker on a daily basis.

Adding actual monsters - ones different from him, who are much larger and fictional and hungry - to the mix only serves to amplify his anxiety.

It comes as something of a relief when Tohru recommends barricading the windows and stockpiling supplies, blankets, an assortment of foodstuffs and some First Aid, all of which are suggestions Ned undertakes with enthusiasm and the assistance of his diner-mates.

Now, with all the tables upturned strategically and the blinds drawn, he's almost elated they had the foresight to work things out early as a new transmission hits the public sphere.

He sends out another message almost immediately, this one Mansion-wide.]

IF ANYONE NEEDS A SAFE PLACE AND YOU CAN'T MAKE IT TO THE CLINIC OR LIBRARY

COME TO THE DINER ON THE EIGHTH FLOOR

WE HAVE FOOD* AND SHELTER IN THE EVENT OF CATASTROPHE

*But please be patient with that, there's only a couple of us working the kitchen.

[The Pie Maker, who loathes close proximity and sometimes gets claustrophobic, almost regrets hitting SEND.

Almost.]

NOTE: This is OPEN MINGLE CATCH-ALL, anyone and everyone can meet up with their friends/family/associates in the diner if they need a safe place to stay and don't want to leap willy-nilly after Her Highness into the Rabbit Hole ~~it's ironic because the diner is called The Rabbit Hole~~.

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[Gabriel was looking closely at the machine trying to figure out the exact workings of this particular model. Once he was sure he had it he took the pot to fill it with water, planning to brew enough for anyone that might want some. At the "Hello" he glances up to the Pie-Maker and offers him a small but warm smile despite the less friendly greeting he received.]

Well, I've got people here I'd like to protect. [He spares a glance towards the young Michael before giving a half-shrug and turning back to Ned.]

And this seemed like the best place to go. In turn I intend to defend the diner if it comes down to it.

[He's leaning a hip casually on the counter, his sword on the other hip is hard to miss and he doesn't have to pat it to get his point across.]

Thank you, by the way, for giving us a place to stay for the time being.

[The Pie Maker, who has a difficult time feeling safe during events, is both comforted and concerned. Gabriel's sword is a not-so-subtle reminder that things could go horribly wrong at any given moment and Ned isn't exactly equipped to defend himself and others in an emergency situation unless it involves pretending to be a Jedi.]

Um. It's...it's no problem,

[he replies, relaxing minutely.]

Who's the- uh...who's the kid? He wandered into the kitchen earlier asking for cookies, so he might get a sugar rush pretty soon.

[He chuckles softly, eyes drifting the young Archangel once more.]

He did, did he? Ah well, perhaps he'll run himself out and nap until he's himself again.

[There's a soft sigh.]

That boy is my twin brother Michael.

[Ned, reaching for a salt cellar to refill it for the countertop, knocks over the remaining contents as his hand stutters with Gabriel's proclamation. His brother. His brother. The Pie Maker, who very rarely forgets a face, most certainly does not forget the the tall*, quiet fellow who asked if he could learn how to make pies for his sugar-addict brother.

Oh.

*A relative unit of measurement, as Ned is taller than almost everyone and most people are simply varying degrees of short around him.]

Oh.

[Clearing his throat and brushing granules of salt off the counter and into his hand in a frantic bid to clean up his mess, Ned nods.]

I met him. When he was, uh, bigger.

[Gabriel sort of shifts back some as the salt is spilled over the counter and some falls on his lap. He brushes it off casually, quirking a brow at the startled pie-maker. Was it really that surprising?

He could narrow his eyes at the omen, that is, if he took it for a grain of salt at all. Humans and their odd superstitions.]

Shouldn't you be tossing a bit of that over your left shoulder? I mean, the devil is about, it may just keep him off your back.

[A small, somewhat harmless joke.]

Ha. Yeah.

[Terrible salt puns aside, Gabriel's casual joke has Ned's blood freezing in his veins. The actual Devil being what he is and Lucifer's tendency to slink around the edges of the Pie Maker's consciousness being what it is, Ned has sudden, vivid reminders of his own inhumanity and stares at the salt in his hand for a long, uncomfortable moment.

Ironic, perhaps, that the guy who can shoot sparks out of his fingers doesn't believe in ghosts or spirits, and this is one superstition he'd typically ignore.

Ned takes a pinch of salt and throws it over his left shoulder.]

Hopefully whatever's turned him small will wear off sooner than later, what with the Jabberwock--

[He pauses as Ned finally decides to play into the superstition and toss the bit of salt over his shoulder. He can't help but try to stifle a laugh at it.]

Ey. [Finishing the word, partially chuckled. He clears his throat.]

Can't hurt. I take it you've had a run in with Satan then?

Several, actually,

[Ned replies tightly, dragged back to the day Lucifer coerced - not asked - him into touching Dean Winchester's lifeless, mutilated body to see who had murdered him. Fairly certain of the culprit now, he still isn't comfortable being around the Prince of Darkness.

Or whatever he's going by these days.

The Pie Maker cleans up the rest of the salt, mumbling as he works:]

You know what they say about idle hands.

Several?

[His brows raise at that but Ned's tension doesn't go unnoticed. The fact he actually played into the superstition meant that whatever happened with Ned and the Devil was fairly unpleasant and the other didn't want him around.]

Lucifer has been giving you trouble? What for?

[The line used here by the pie-maker can give him a clue. But even so, if the Devil was bored here in Wonderland and looking for trouble. The question still stands, why Ned? In all of Wonderland?]

[The Pie Maker gives Gabriel a look that says something along the lines of "is this query really necessary" and "have you met Satan, bro?" Clearly, the archangel isn't picking up on Ned's internal screaming.]

...does the Devil need a reason?

[Probably. But Ned isn't about to disclose fun facts about his finger on such a balmy December afternoon.]

[A pause, taking in that expression.]

No, I suppose not. But he generally does have his reasons for things. Perhaps you upset him or got his attention somehow. He can be fickle like that.

[A shrug.] At least my brother always was.

[But he'll let the reason go in favor of asking other things.]

What has he done? Because to be honest I haven't heard much from anyone about him harassing them. Perhaps I can help?

[Telling Gabriel about the impetus for Satan's frequent harassment means telling Gabriel about his power, but it will be a cold day in Hell before Ned discloses information like that without being forced again. The last time he shared it was because Dean Winchester had just threatened to pummel his face into the Formica countertop.]

He...just...he lurks, and- [Keep it simple, Ned.] -he makes me uncomfortable.

[But what doesn't make Ned uncomfortable?]

Lurks?

[His brow furrows some at that as he considers it a moment. Indeed, what doesn't make Ned uncomfortable. Still...]

Well that's rather mild all things considered, he could be doing so much worse to you. But I can try to see to it you feel safer? I can't be by your side 24/7, and I suspect you wouldn't want that anyway, but I do come in daily. If anything you know where to find me if something happens.

You could always give me a ring and I'll come down to distract his attention from you.

[There are worse things, of course, Ned knows it could always be worse. A pessimist at heart, the Pie Maker sees things in shades of potential pain and different levels of threat, volatility, danger. His lifestyle is one fraught with tiptoeing on eggshells for fear of upsetting a fragile balance he has constructed.

It keeps him safe, but then...this isn't home, and relative safety isn't an option anymore.

He almost snorts.]

You'd distract Satan?

[And Gabriel looks a little confused, like he's not sure why that sounds odd to Ned.]

Yes? You're just a human, I doubt it would be difficult.

[Unless you're special in some way Ned.]

[NOPE NOTHING SPECIAL HERE, PLEASE MOVE ALONG]

Yeah, but-

[But nothing. Ned is permitting everyone to labor under the delusion that he is normal because more citizens knowing means explanations, explanations mean curious folk, curious folk mean inquiring minds and inquiring minds mean doctors.

He already hashed out his issues with one of them, he doesn't need the scarier psychiatrist interested in cutting him open. Dealing with Lucifer's discretion is a small price to pay.]

...it doesn't matter, um, thanks. For the offer.

[A slight furrow of his brow at the start to protest.]

It matters to me.

[A frank look, doing his best to make it seems like he genuinely cares about Ned's well being despite recent trauma.]

I don't know this Lucifer as well as I'd like and there's no telling what he'd do if he were bored. Lurking is tame but that doesn't mean he won't escalate if you ignore him too much. Better to take his attention off of you, I can handle him.

[He shrugs.]

Besides, what kind of angel would I be if I didn't at least offer to protect humans from Satan?

[Regardless of his stance on them back home... Satan was a whole other story. Especially when he threatened his potential allies.]

[I can handle him. Ned lets a wry "famous last words" die in his throat and feels his upset stomach reach up to make him nod. He doesn't agree and he's certain that the Devil could decorate the walls with his insides like an explosive went off in a plastic bag full of chili, but he doesn't say any more on the subject.]

Great.

[His 'smile' looks more like a grimace, but it's best to leave the Pie Maker be.]

I won't, uh, owe you anything, will I?

[People just don't do Nice Things for free.]

[Gabriel is sadly unaware of Lucifer's full strength. He knows he killed William for what seemed like a desire to let his rage consume him so he'd kill more people. But that's unsurprising in the whole of it. He's lucky he had angels piled on him before he did something he would regret. However, this is also an opportunity to see more of Lucifer and figure him out. He doesn't mind the risk involved.]

Consider it an equal exchange for all of this delicious free pie.

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[OPEN, DINER CATCH-ALL] war, children, it's just a shot away

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