[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/oBJ38oL.png[/img][/center]

[color=0072bc]"Ayy-yooo! Leave it to you to turn a right good penthouse into a fookin' soup kitchen on the first afternoon, Noël."[/color] From the other room, there came a large smacking sound, as Brennan Griese high fived the doorway with two hands. The flight had clearly made him restless; every step of his had a quote-unquote subtle energy to it that rang in the air. [color=0072bc]"What'd you slap yourself together this time, darlin'? I hope it's fricasseed Mistralian young, or I'm gonna sulk me way through dinner."[/color]

Walking into the kitchen with his carry on still slung over his shoulder, Brennan made a show of looking delightfully surprised and slung his left arm around Noël's neck. The team captain tightened it playfully and let the carry-on bag slide onto the floor without reverence. His eyes were locked on the plate at the end of the table, with the large glass of milk, [i]extra potatoes[/i] (!) and the most perfect slab of meat since infant Brennan himself.

[color=0072bc]"Well, ayy now, I suppose that's [i]actually[/i] not the [i]worst[/i] meal man ever slapped to a fookin' plate! Close. But you stopped yourself right 'fore the bottom of the barrel."[/color]

He picked up his bag again and set it on a spare section of the countertop, unzipping it and pulling out a grey t-shirt he'd purchased while spectating the last Vytal Festival. It read 'ATLAS WILL INDOCTRINATE YOUR YOUTH,' complete with a foreboding-looking airship branded with 'INDOCTRINATE,' and was one of Brennan's favorite shirts to lounge about in. Though he [i]had[/i] put on a good bit more muscle since he had joined Atlas; it had begun to feel a bit more snug whenever he put it on, and now that they were back in the familiar fairgrounds where all of Remnant flocked once every two years, it might be time to size up again.

[color=0072bc]"So what the fook was that thing you put on the end of your text?"[/color] Brennan asked, unbuttoning his dress shirt with his back to Noël. [color=0072bc]"Looked like a perforated spleen. Or a sinister whoopie cushion."[/color]