749/Up On The Roof

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Up On The Roof
Date of Scene: 25 March 2020
Location: Carroll Arms - Roof
Synopsis: Terry makes up to Gar by offering him food.
Cast of Characters: Terry O'Neil, Gar Logan

Terry O'Neil has posed:
<<Hey>> Terry started the set of texts,
<<I'm hungryyy. Are you hungryyy?>>
<<I think we should eat>>
<<Together, I mean.>>
<<Wanna go eat out?>>
<<My treat>>

And then a long pause. At least, in comparison to the barrage of texts one second apart each that had preceded. And then:

<<Let me know! I'll be at my place. Meet there to drive ok?>>

And so the trap was set. Terry glanced at his phone screen through his preparations to see when Gar would see, and reply to, the message.

The result is that, when Gar finally arrives, he'll find a sign taped up against the door. It has an arrow drawn in sharpie. It pointed up.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan slept through the flurry of texts long enough that by the time he was up, the last one had come through maybe an hour earlier, enough that Terry might begin to grow paranoid all over again. Without checking the time, he fired back:

<<Dude, text spam much? Can't a guy sleep until a normal hour any more?>>

It was something like mid-afternoon by this point. That's what happens when you stay up long enough to see daybreak before crashing.

<<I hope it's not that Hero Wood place.>>
<<Hold your horses.>>
<<I'll be over in a few.>>
<<So don't go running off anywhere.>>
<<And don't do anything stupid.>>
<<Text spam's not so fun now, is it?>>
<<That's D>>
<<I meant K, stupid keyboard.>>

Upon getting to the apartment, he took the conventional way up until reaching the door. "Really, dude?" To the roof he went.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The rooftop is... different, this time around. For starters, it is a lot more well-lit. This is by virtue of the lights strung along the handrails. They looks like the old-school fair lights, but closer inspection will reveal them to be LED. Still, the ambiance is more or less the same.

In the center of the terrace, there's a table covered with a nice tablecloth. It's actually a card table, but it's well hidden by the red table cloth. Two chairs, a smaller table bearing covered dishes and some non-alcoholic drinks make up the ensemble.

And then there's Terry. He's leaning against the edge of the terrace, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted and lookig at Gar as he arrives.

"Hey there," he says, smiling a little. He's wearing a simple black turtleneck and black slacks. "I heard you were hungry."

Gar Logan has posed:
"What..is all this?" Gar asks as soon as he's reached the rooftop and had an initial look around, in fact turning a full 360 degrees by the time he's done. "I didn't know this place had room service," he quips, before giving Terry a curious look in his all black attire. "I am, but you're dressed like we're here for a funeral or something. What's with the all black? Are you going goth on me?" he wonders. It's the casual attire for him.

There is a little hesitation as he stops a few feet shy of the tables and chairs, however. A chance for Terry to say something that's on his mind first?

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Well... I just wanted to do something nice. For being a total dork." He smirks a little. "By being a total dork, apparently."

He pushes off from the wall and walks towards Gar, approaching him slowly. "I guess I've seen too many movies," he admits sheepishly, hands behind his back, "I thought this would be... well, I cooked a meal and I thought..." he rubs his forehead, probably because he hit his head hard while tripping over his words.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan rests his hands at his hips. "You're consistent, if nothing else," he retorts. "But I'm not gonna say watching a lot of movies is a bad thing. I'd bet I've made a whole five cents off of the movies of mine you've seen."

A subtle sniff in the direction of the food, to see if he can decipher anything about it, then he says, "I don't have any other rooftop dinners to compare this to, but it's kind of romantic. Kind of." He does not twist the knife over Terry's rapid departure the other night.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The redhead closes the distance between them and and hesitates for a few seconds. The food smells... spicy, there's garlic, and some pepper... parmesan. "I thought about what I'd say when you came up here. I even rehearsed it all and now I can't think of a single thing to say." His admission is accompanied by a nervous smile. He then takes one step closer so that the gap shrinks even more. "Gar, I- about that night..."

He swallows. "I hope I didn't make you feel bad. If I did, I'm sorry."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan waves it off, eyes bouncing from food to Terry, back again and a couple more times besides. "Aww, forget about it. I'm sure I'm gonna do something dumb soon enough, so we'll be even at that point." That's a fair deal, right? "You were being pretty skittish, though. You know that, right?"

"And if you already forgot your lines, don't get into acting without some more practice." Does that carry a double meaning? In relation to the excuse for his rapid departure from the Tower? Or is that just coincidence?

Just like how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop, the world may never know.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I've always been better at improv anyway," Terry quips and turns away, headin over to retrieve the dishes. Gesturing to the chairs, he brings over the covered plates and silverware.

"I wasn't quite sure what to make... but I decided on Italian. I hope you like Italian-" when he uncovers the plate, it is to reveal a generous serving of Penne All'Arrabiata, the smell of the spicy sauce and the bacon quite strong, mouth-watering even. In the center he places a plate of mozzarella and tomato slices garnished with basil and olive oil. A pitcher full of iced peach tea is also placed at the table, with two glasses.

"Bon appetit. Except thats French. I forgot how the Italians say it," he smiles.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan wastes no time on the follow-up once he sees the main dish in question, and the voice impression is a perfect match. "Fine. I'll get a tray. This one's wet, and this one's wet and this one's wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. This one is wet. Did you dry these in a rainforest? Why, with the power of the Death Star do we not have a tray that is fucking dry?"

He is perhaps grinning too broadly, proud of himself to no end.

He's not done. The next one, in full Italian accent? "Buon appetito!" Accented with that pinch of the thumb and index finger. "This looks yummy," he adds, back to his own voice.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry raises an eyebrow. "Wow, Eddie Izzzard.... mad repect, you follow the classics." That particular skit came from a tour that happened, coincidentally, exactly in the year Terry was born. His mother used to keep the DVDs next to some Robin Williams ones, which might explain some of Terry's humor growing up.

"Unfortunately I didn't have time to prepare a dessert, so I guess we'll have 'or death' instead?" the redhead pulls up his chair and sits down. And then, with one fluid motion he rolls up the turtleneck and puts it aside, showing the black tank-top underneath. "Don't want to get sauce on my one good dressy shirt," he explains.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan buffs a few nails against his shirt. "For someone who lives to make others laugh, I have to know quality comedy," he points out, rolling his eyes. "Thank you for flying Church of England."

Having a seat, glancing back up at the tank top revealed, he clucks his tongue. "We have to get you out of internship status so you can afford a few nicer things." He begins to reach for the food before waiting to see if Terry is expecting to serve it up on the plates, or what. "Also, you seem a little bouncy today."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry reaches for a plate and begins to serve from the main, larger one. Gar's portion is quite generous, and garnished with parmesan with the typical 'say when' amount. The caprese salad portion is deposited into a smaller plate for Gar.

"And why wouldn't I be bouncy?" He asks, starting to serve himself, "I'm on a rooftop. I 'forgot' my phone in the apartment so nobody can call me away?..." And even though it is against good manners to do so, Terry rests his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands, "And I seem to have a very handsome dinner companion all to myself."

He leans back on the chair and smiles, "Nicer things? I dunno. I thought I look okay in this," he says, gesturing to himself. The tak top does do a good job of highlighting what good shape he is in, but Gar might easily see he's trying to put on a confident front. That tell-tale red is creeping up on Terry's cheeks, he is obviously doing something that he usually doesn't do.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan actually claps his hands together and rubs them. He hasn't eaten in..however long it's been since he last snacked! Then he slept! "Dude, you're even using the smaller plates for the salad? I'm impressed," he states, but he waits as patiently as he can rather than just tearing into everything. There's more at play here than just the food. Even he can figure that out.

"All to yourself, huh? Are you sure there's nobody watching in secret, ready to surprise me in an embarrassing way?" he asks, looking this way and that. And there's no spaghetti he can see, so no 'Lady and the Tramp' dinner moment to come.

Gar adds, "And you look fine, dude, even if you're almost as bright as a lightning bug with just that tank top on." It's dim enough that the coloration in the face doesn't show up as clearly as other times, but he can tell it's there.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry laughs, leaning forward to grab his fork. "Go ahead, laugh, but you don't know what it's like to be this pale. Throughout most of my highschool years people kept asking me if I felt alright. I spend a chunk of my paycheck on sunblock because otherwise I die. If I go to the beach, I'll blind you. Which is a shame, because I love the beach. I just have to either wear all the sunblock in the world."

He takes a mouthful of the mozarella and tomato, and hmmms, "I would be very surprised if there are paparazzi on this roof, Gar. Nobody would think Gar Logan would be slumming it with a nobody intern" He grins, "Doesn't your adoptive father's mansion have its own zip code?" he teases.

Gar Logan has posed:
"I hope this doesn't mean we're going to have to make you some kind of protective suit just so you can go out like normal when it gets to be spring and summer," Gar muses between bites of food. "But I think you're exaggerating a little anyway," he finishes.

Some of that cheese is sampled, and he can't resist turning into a mouse to nibble on some of his. In an actual restaurant, this would be tantamount to needing to shut the place down for a deep cleaning, but this is not an actual restaurant. Not even close. Remaining that way, he says, "You're discounting yourself. Stop that, or I'll throw this piece of cheese at you." It's so small that it might not even be felt if it even landed, but it might be worth finding out. "That's just a rumor," he adds of the mansion and its size.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Fine, fine, no dairy projectiles, please. I worked hard to make that cheese." He smirks, "I knew the cow by name and everything. But yeah, I exaggerate a little, but it sometimes feels like the raging ball of fire in the middle of our solar system wants me dead."

"Gingers aren't exactly popular, if you've noti- I mean, of course you have. Think about all of the roles on Hollywood and TV where a character is supposed to have red hair and they hire someone who clearly isn't, and just give them a bad dye job. And then they walk around perfectly tanned." He laughs "We /don't/ tan. We peel."

Gar Logan has posed:
The Garmouse tosses that piece of cheese up and eats it on the descent, then says, "I'll let my pal Stuart know to come by sometime for some more of this." After he's hopped off the table and disappeared, Gar shows back up in the chair, still seated.

"If you think redheads have it tough, let me tell you about the market for not only greenheads, but green-skinned people. I'm still waiting for someone to call me up and ask me to do a 'Junior Hulk' show."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry takes another forkful of pasta and hmmms. It actually came out quite good- at least, to his taste, which might not be universal. "That's a whole load of nonsense from them. I rather quite like how your complexion." He pours himself a glass of peach tea.

"Speaking honestly here. Some people get all stupid about it and go and make leagues against people who look different. Me? It's all part of the awesome diversity of existing. And you," he points his fork, penne sauce glistening in the lights, "you don't let those idiots get to you, I hope."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan is not the pickiest person when it comes to food. If it's edible, he's usually good for it. Plus, he's lived with someone who likes mustard as a pizza topping. At times, it's led to him being more experimental with foods. "So green is your favorite color?" he wonders.

The food is getting steadily cleaned off the plate, and he has no qualms about lifting it up to lick even cleaner. The salad is getting picked at more carefully, just to avoid a mess with any dressing. "Honestly, I don't even really pay attention to stuff like that. I'm 'out' in the sense of being a meta in the entertainment industry, or whatever people like to call us. If they don't want to watch something because I'm in it..well, it's not for them anyway."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Actually, mustard is my favorite color, but the way you wear green make it a very close second," Terry says, and looks down at his plate. He is making fast work of his own meal. He remember something, and he says, "By the way. I ran into an old friend of mine today. She's a big fan of yours and she'd love to meet you. So, I figured maybe we could go to dinner with her, say, tomorrow? I guarantee you'll just adore her, she's a real ray of sunshine."

He chomps down on some mozarella and waits for Gar's answer.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan drums the fingers of a hand against the tabletop, slipping into speculative wonder. Who could he be talking about? A 'Rae' of sunshine wouldn't even describe Raven, so she's got to be out. "Yellow? Really? Nobody says yellow is their favorite color. It's like the worst of the three primary colors, dude." This gives him a little more time to ponder who this person may be. "I don't think I have anything planned. See?" Holding out his own phone, the calendar is filled with two things, mainly: fly with Kian and avoid Raven.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Sounds like it's a plan, then. Maybe not tomorrow but we'll see when she's available."

It isn't long before his food is consumed, and the redhead leans back on his chair.

"Don't diss yellow yet. You haven't seen me in it," he jokes, crossing one leg over another. "Oh, who am I kidding? with this pallor and his hair, the only thing that looks good on me are cool colors like blue." A pause. "Or green."

Gar Logan has posed:
"Maybe I'd rather see you in some green," Gar points out, not really thinking about how that could be taken. "But why don't we wrap things up out here and get back inside? I'm starting to feel a little cold and we could sit around and watch some TV for a while or something."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry stands up, putting his plate aside, and walks over to Gar's side, looking down at him.

"A little chill? Then let's go down, then. I will warm you on the way so that you don't perish, at the risk of my own life..." he flashes a grin and extends his arm, clearly intending to wrap it around Gar's shoulders as he guides him to the elevator. He can come for the plates tomorrow..

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan rises to his feet. He hadn't packed anything along for being outside in the first place, with the rooftop rendezvous setup. The arm is accepted and though he quips, "I think it's gonna take more than that to warm me up," he adds, "but thanks for doing this. It was nice of you. What do you feel like watching?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"You," Terry finds himself saying as he summons the elevator- but it doesn't register that he's said it... There is a brief internal struggle- should he go for the kiss? Is it too early for that? Is Gar still upset over the other night and just not showing it? His hesitation costs him the opportunity, as the elevator doors open, and he finds himself saying, "How about the Jungle Book? I've heard good things about that one," he says with a smile.

Gar Logan has posed:
"What was that?" Gar asks, a brow sliding upward. Did Terry just say he wanted to watch Gar? Well, bringing up that Jungle Book remake, even if it was fairly low budget, would fit the criteria. "Haha, sure. We can pull that up. I had a fun time making that. It was challenging." Down they go, and that sign is removed from the door before they head inside for a private night of relaxation.