Angel and Kyle, rooftops and donuts.

[x-wildchild.livejournal.com]

Both taking refuge on the roof for their own reasons, Kyle and Angel talk and share donuts and Plot against Unsuspecting Victims.



Angel heaved a huge sigh as she flopped down onto the roof of the mansion - she was far away from the edge that a 'concerned adult' figure wouldn't see her and potentially ask her to get down. Flight powers or no, adults sometimes still looked like they were going to keel over dead at the sight of someone prancing about on the roof. Not that she had been prancing.

Much.

On the other side of the roof, Kyle pulled his arm off his face, and cocked his head. He could hear the slight tapping sounds of someone moving on the other side, but the background noises muffled anything past tapping and footsteps. Hopefully it wasn't anyone coming to find him, it wasn't like he'd left a note or anything. The lack of noise and strong smells ruled out Sam, and Shiro, the latter of which he was extra-grateful for. But there was still a long list of people who could've been up on the roof. And they might want to mooch his donuts, which was just not cool. They were -his- donuts. So he went still, listening.

Lack of extra sharp senses aside, Angel had a nose for food and it was a very good nose for it, as well. Once she'd finally stop fussing around on the blanket and started to relax, she froze as the smell of goodness washed over her. Her head popped up and her nose sniffed at the air while her mouth started to water.

Carefully, she stood up and started to follow the tip of her nose, curious and hungry. Who was eating donuts on the roof, anyway?

Despite himself, Kyle raised his head, and sniffed at the air. There wasn't a -strong- scent, but he could still pick up apple-scented shampoo and cotton and under that, a hint of chlorine, and underneath all that, the weird rice-like scent of fireproof clothes. He'd never figured out what they were made of, and asking your buddy what he'd made your female friend's fireproof undies of just went to the bad place that got you slapped or looked at funny. So, much like Yvette's gloves and socks, and his own claw-proof sandals, Kyle had deemed Angel's fireproof clothes to be made of Wierdstuffium.

"If you're coming over here to steal my donuts, I'm tossing you off the roof!" he called. "I know you can fly! You won't get hurt!"

Her head popped up from one side of the roof and she sulked at him. "But they're freeeeessh, aren't they?" she asked, eyeing the box from the safe distance. "And anyway, if you toss me off the roof, I'll just totally set your pants on fire. Again."

Angel was on a slope so she just flopped down, arms crossed under her chin and pouted in Kyle's general direction. "I haven't seen you in, like, forever and here you are with donuts."

"I'm a busy guy?" Kyle offered by way of lame explanation and lamer-still apology. "Eh. Mostly it's that I suck. Lots of emo, lots of therapy for the emo." And despite his protests about the donuts being his, and threats of roof-pushing, he nudged the box towards Angel with a foot. "No eat-y the strawberry ones. Is mine. I got the Weirdness Pack, there's some pretty freaky donuts in there."

She didn't even wait for him to finish speaking before she was scrambling down the other side of the roof, sliding down on her butt, to land near him and the box of goodies. She wiggled her fingers in glee before pouncing. "Oh god, you got the bacon maple one!" Angel squealed, barely resisting from shoving half of it in her mouth like some sort of demented squirrel. Glancing up at him, she shrugged one shoulder. "And you totally had reason for not wanting to be around folks, Kyle. Geez, you've had a hell of a summer."

"And now I'm gonna have to get another one so I can try it." Kyle said, laughing. He reached over with one arm, and snagged his strawberry donut, picking it apart with his claws and eating it in pieces. "Yeah, but the thing is, it doesn't help me. I get emo, I avoid, and then I get worse, because I'm miserable from being away from people on top of whatever made me emo. It's one of those vicious circles or whatever." And yet, he was on the roof, avoiding people, even though he knew better. "Most everyone's summer has sucked. I vote no more suck this summer. Done with the suck. Instead, summer of bacon donuts."

"Amen to that," Angel responded solemnly, saluting him with the remaining pieces of donut. "But it's hard to drag yourself out of that and it's hard for people to know when to step in - man, it IS a circle. Down with circles, as well, up with bacon donuts." She stretched out her legs in front of her and propped her elbows on her knees. "And, yeah, this has been a sucky summer. Kidnapped and losing sight of your skin? Way down on the fun scale. Stupid summer."

"-MY- bacon donut." Kyle protested, unable to hide the snorting laughter that broke through his words. "You owe me one bacon maple donut from Count Donutula's Laboratory before they send 'em out of rotation and put something really freaky in, like tomato or eggplant or something." He pulled a second perfectly ordinary strawberry donut from the box and devoured it. "No skin? Like, you had no skins, or you could see no skins. There's a difference. I mean, losing your skin would suck, ask Marius. But not being able to see it, that you can learn to turn off, right?"

"...okay, I really, really need to go and visit Count Donutula's Laboratory. I declare we need a trip, for the greater good." Angel held up two fingers. "And the second one, so it's not as bad as it could have been. But boy oh boy, was it freaky as hell. And I don't know how to get back to it, which freaks me out even more. And I totally lost my pants because they were fireproof enough. Dude, I was in Supergirl panties that day! Though I guess it could have been worse..."

Kyle raised his half-eaten third donut in a gesture of acknowledgement. "All trips should be to Count Donutulas. You have to go visit because you -ate my bacon donut- anyway." An expression of queasy disgust crossed over his face, and he dove for the edge of the roof, spitting chunks of donut out. "Oh, god. God, don't eat the purple one." He groaned, still leaning over the edge. "Remind me, I gotta email the Count and tell him that ube donuts are not good donuts. Oh, fuck, didn't anyone taste this thing before they let me buy it?"

She peered over at the box and wrinkled her nose at it. "Uh, is it bad as in bad for Kyle and his tastebuds/stomach? Or in No One Should ever eat this ever, amen?"

There was no answer, just the sounds of Kyle taking a very long drink from his bottle of water, and then gargling and spitting the water over the edge of the roof. "No one should ever ever ever eat it." He finally groaned, crawling back away from the edge and then lying on his back, one arm over his face. "So bad. I want to get six and leave them in a box for unsuspecting victims."

"Aw, man, now I want to try one." It was like one of those 'This is disgusting, you've got to try it!' moments. "And we should. We could buy a box and leave it in the kitchen and then get Forge to record people coming in and eating them. And then we could post it to youtube and be famous!"

The last third of Kyle's ube donut was tossed to Angel over hand, landing neatly in her hands as he continued to drink, gargle and spit to get the taste out. "All yours. And when you're done with the death donut, we will go sign out a car and totally get donuts and leave them for people." He attempted a mad-scientist style cackle, and only ended up coughing and having to drink more water.

Angel inspected the donut before taking a bite out of it. It didn't look like a death donut. In fact, it looked rather innocent. The better for her to eat, then, she decided and attacked. But paused when, for a lack of better term, returned the favor. It was like an explosion in her mouth and not a good kind, either. An explosion of greasy slime with a horrible donut layering.

She gave Kyle the thumbs up as she scuttled to the edge of the room to spit the pieces out.

This was going to be awesome.