9696/Oh I Love The Smell Of Bacon In The Morning...

Oh I Love The Smell Of Bacon In The Morning...
Date of Scene:	10 January 2022
Location:	2D - Terry's Apartment
Synopsis:	Terry is surpised by Michael in more ways than one.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Hannigan, Terry O'Neil

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Michael Hannigan has posed:
Well. Yesterday was full of surprises. And considering the good mood Mike was in when he woke up in Terry's apartment, they were of the good variety. But, it's still not his home. Which would explain how Mike woke up so early. And considering how peaceful Terry looked, Mike may have cheated when he got up and gathered his belongings. Heading out the door.

His return was just as quiet. The crinkle of the plastic not becoming known until the musician released the bag upon the counter. But quiet is still the name of the game as Mike sneaks around the kitchen.

Eventually the smells of bacon, coffee, and breakfast potatoes wafts to the other side of the apartment.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
And thus, Terry is summoned out of his lair by the scents coming from the kitchen. He sleeps deeply enough that he would not have noticed the absence of someone next to him, but his appetite /is/ more awake than he is, and thus, after slipping into some underwear and an undershirt, he pads out and into the kitchen.

"Mssdmrnrntm?" he says in the vague direction of the scent, still blinking sleep out of his eyes.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike is wearing more than Terry. Considering he had to go out to pick up some groceries, it seemed imperative he remember the pants. And well he wanted service so the shoes and shirt had to come too. The hair wasn't pulled back until he got back to the apartment so somewhere some cashier got subjected to seeing his case of bed head.

Pale eyes glance up to the murmur of inquiry. "Morning," He greets, spraying a pan down before setting it on the stove top, "Sleep well?" Whenever Terry's vision comes to him, the source of the smells will become obvious as a plate containing bacon is resting on the counter near the coffee maker and one pan has cubes of potato and seasoning sizzling away. The pan Mike set down has nothing in it saye for the spray but the bowl resting near the stovetop betrays what looks to be some type of egg mixture. "Hope you're hungry." A rather cruel thing to say if there wasn't food presently being made.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"... like a log," Terry mutters, still getting his bearings. He beelines towards Mike to give him a hug from behind (because the stove is in the way) and a nuzzle om the neck, even if he's not in feline shape. "And I'm so hungry I could eat a stable," he chuckles, walking over to the cupboard to fetch mugs for coffee.

"What time is it? I feel like I slept forever..."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike turns his head initially to look to the Terry hugging him from behind. Upon Terry releasing him, his turn is repurposed find the one display clock in the kitchen he was able to confirm was set properly. "Well it's technically morning..." He answers, a warm smile sneaking onto his facial features, "but not the level of morning where you glare daggers at people for waking them up."

Mike eyes Terry for a moment, looking for any signs of him being wrong. "No stables but we have coffee, breakfast potatoes, bacon, and eggs on the menu. No toast though." He frowns, "I forgot the bread."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"That's awfully sweet of you," Terry says, taking a coffee carafe out of the refrigerator and fixing up two iced coffees. Because he is a monster who prefers his coffee cold and with milk.

"I'll have to make you breakfast some other time. Do you have a busy day today? I'm planning to just sit it out and... recover."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike picks up the bowl of eggs and pours it into the heated up pan. "Or we can get some from room service when the tour picks back up." Mike replies with a bit of a wink. Sure. NOW he's getting the references.

He grabs the spatula considering Terry's question. "Well, I'll have to head back to New York sometime today but that's a short enough distance that I'm flexible." The younger man is observed quietly for a few moments, "Too much last night?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I know you're flexible," Terry says with a smirk, firing one back at Mike for that reference, "And while last night was great, I can run across rooftops for miles without getting tired. It takes a lot to tire me out." He grins and sips his coffee, heading to sit at the table after serving Mike his own coffe.

"No, I've got to switch to feline form and just lay on the couch while Phoebe's holy magic drains off me. She had to heal me because I sort of..." sip "kinda got blasted in the chest by angelfire from Saint Michael?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Oh." Mike grows silent for a moment before a sizzle draws his attention back to the stove. "Fu-" He tends to the eggs. "How bad is 'kinda' in this sense? Like hotel teleport bad?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Less, but still loopy." The redhead grins, "But don't worry, I won't be trying to portal anywhere while recovering. I am switching to cat form but I am sleeping in human form to avoid accidental portalling while loopy, so as not to pop up under anyone's bed."

He smirks, "... although I did look good in those undies," he teases. "But yeah. Saint Michael is a jackass."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Yes you did." Mike allows, shifting the pans away from the heat before he turns to get plates from the place he discovered when he was taking inventory of (snooping around) the kitchen. "Ok so you need me to keep you awake and less loopy?" Mike surmises, setting out the two plates to start the process of loading up food onto them. "...There's some left for the other you."

He carries the plates over, thumb and top two fingers of each hand charged with the task while the bottom two fingers are taking care of the passenger forks. "I'm, not as versed on what's really going on with Saint Michael." Mike admits, setting the plates and forks down on the table, "Is it really him or just some entity using that name?" He turns to go make sure the burners are off and to retrieve his coffee, but the makings of a frown are apparent before his back is shown.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Nah, I can stay awake, you don't need to change your plans today for me," he smiles ,"I am nowhere near as bad as when I almost died."

He breathes in the scent, and MmMmmmms, reaching for his fork. "It is really him. Of course... he's not exactly one hundred percent hewn to scriptural account. Then again, are we surprised? Things always turn out to be more... complex than we think. Like for example-- god didn't create our universe. He charged /Michael/ and another one to create it. Michael created all matter. The other one created the individual components." He starts digging in to his food, "This... wasn't revealed in my interview, because the bugger stopped time and thus my camera from recording it. I couldn't back it up with footage." He huffs.

"Michael says there is a flaw in our universe- introduced by The Other One. And that's what Michael wants to fix. Now... you get one guess as to who The Other One was."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike returns with his coffee, still not smiling but he joins Terry at the table. He looks to the food for a moment and then watches Terry eat. The side of his lips lift slightly before he looks to his plate. "...Just from a general persepective, there seems a lot of overlap between religions. Different names for the same things. There was a God of New York that kind of got rebirthed a little while ago. Strange tried explaining it but- eh."

"Had some people possessed by some zodiac types after that. They tried to release some type of God...Amanda handled that one." He glances over to Terry, "Side note. Magic arrows hurt like hell. Avoid them." He pauses, "...Other than the Hell dimension, Gentleman Ghost thing, having to use the call on Saint Michael to unpossess some people, and the other dimensional dream phone call. I think that's it for weird magic events I've encountered recently."

Terry's given a curious look, "The other... Think that'd be Lucifer? Considering things, I think the general theme between those two is they can't stand each other."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Right'o, the other one, Thing Two, is definitely good ol' Lucy." The redhead blinks for a moment, fork halfway to his mouth. "Wait. There was a *God of New York?* Huh. I am scared to ask what he looked like. Probably like the creepy guy who stared at me every time I used the subway. He had a duck with him."

He stops, again, fork closer to his mouth. "Wait. Wait. Rewind there for a second. The call of saint what?" He stares at his friend, "Run that by me again?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Strange gave kind of an explanation to it but it was awhile ago. And we were kind of standing on the top most part of a bridge when he was explaining so things were a bit distracting." Mike replies, "I think every major city has some type of one. Kind of a spirit of the city bit."

He glances down to scoop up a bit of egg. The sudden sound of brief silence coming from the companion should have been warning but Mike looks up. "Hmm? Run what?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh... right. The Romans called that a... genius loci? The protector spirit of a place- that's what he meant? I wonder. I have never met Strange, I only know him by reputation. A very strange one."

Get out, Terry.

"But what you said. You called on Saint Michael. As in... the Archangel Saint Michael. The one who blasted my chest with fire? That Saint Michael? You can /call/ on him?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike winces at the pun. One he has made himself many times. But Terry doesn't need to know that.

When Terry repeats his inquiry, the musician grimaces. Oh right. That was probably the worst spell to mention. The fork sets down on the plate. "I'm not sure. I mean no one pops up to have a conversation or anything like that." A hand rests on the table. "Lets see, how did I explain this to Robin?" He pauses, "It might be more an extension of the dream abilities but, I found if I speak or sing in a rhyming pattern regarding a saint, it ends up becoming a spell. Sometimes. Call on Saint Michael's not really a phone call but more, imbuing banishment magic into something I'm holding...Still figuring that one out. I didn't have reason to figure that one out until the tour problems."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Wait... shorty knew about this before I did?" Terry raises his eyebrows, "... don't tell him I called him shorty, since he's not short anymore. You know what they say about old habits:"

"Old nuns."

"So... let me get this straight: You can do... angel magic, if you sing about it correctly?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Hey, we were rescuing a kid from some cult and we needed to know what each other could do since we got put on perimeter duty." Mike responds back, "I don't exactly advertise this...directly."

He gestures to Terry, "And Boo. Bad Pun. BAD. See this hand? It's holding an imaginary squirt bottle." He makes a squirting gesture. "BAD KITTY."

He pauses, "It doesn't have to be sung. It can be spoken. And it doesn't have to be me saying it I've found out." He bites his lip for a moment in thought. "Do you have any of my CDs?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry grins at Mike, "... CDs? Like, /who/ owns CDs anymore?" he jokes, and he stands up, setting his fork down, "Actually... I do!" he grins and gestures to the living room, "Right by the sound system. In the red media case. The green one is all Gar's, and he has no taste whatsoever."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Hey some people like having physical souveniers from time to time." Mike looks over to the CD display. "...Did you ever listen to the hidden track songs? The prayer like ones?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry smirks and crosses his arms, "Psheah. What do you think I am, a poseur? Of course I did!"

It suddenly dawns on him, the whole situation. He glances at the display, then back to the rock star who had been cooking him breakfast. "Gosh. My life is all sorts of crazy, isn't it?" he says, walking over to Mike and squeezing his shoulders in a sign of affection. "If you had told me two years ago that you'd be in my living room, much less other rooms, I would have thought you crazy." He pauses, "But then you would have been telling me, so you would have been there alread- you know what, I've never realized how weird that turn of phrase is. Anyways. The prayer song..."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike slowly nods. "My mom was really big on saint stories. So... I thought maybe I'd do a few about them. Deprive, otherwise known as Raphael's Flask. And Lucia's Light." He pauses, I kind of stopped when Lucia's Light made me glow. That kind of freaked me a bit. Also why I don't play that one in public."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry sits back down and raises his eyebrows. "Indeed... so... do you know how they work? Like... are you /actually/ tapping into these saints?"

Little gears turning. "There must be a way to find out, maybe. What exactly do you experience when you perform these?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike leans back. "I don't really know. But- being others have done it. I'm thinking it might be more using what's already in the person and their mindset. If I do Raphael's Flask on myself it's almost neglible. Like I'm just moving something that was already on my desk to another part of it. But, if I do it to others, "I get tired. Like I've run up a few flights of stairs to move something from my desk to theirs."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry ponders, tapping his chin. "Interesting. You know... this could be useful, depending on how it works, with the Angel problem right now."

He hmms, eating in silence for a few seconds, before adding, "Would you be willing to... test things out? Experiment? I know a few mystics who might have ideas. I'm not a wizard, though, so I can't quite think of the full potential of this."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike pauses, "Like a lab setting? Uh sure. Hank and I did something similar. Combining magic with science for a medical procedure." He pauses, "Come to think of it Nadia was there for the tail end of it."

He pauses, "You're not going to publicize the Call upon St. Michael one, are you? I'm fine with people knowing about healing spells and ones that deter attacks from demons. But, that third one might cause for someone to do something stupid."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry hmmms, "No, no need to publicize potentially dangerous stuff. But this might be something we can use in our favor. I just don't know how just yet... but..." he puts a finger up in the air, "I bet Lydia might! I have to get a new holiness warder from her anyways, since mine got blasted by Saint Michael. I'll ask her and we can set up an experiment. And Nadia could be there to monitor the /science/ part of it. It could be fun!"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
At the assurance that the spell that could summon stupidity will not be shared with the masses, Mike gives a nod. "Thank you." He pauses, "...I did a fourth but I don't really remember what I said for that one. Just that it rhymed. It was kind of on the fly to try and stop some sudden bout of forced singing that was going on in Times Square."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry nods, "No worries. Let's get breakfast done and the dishes cleared before I have to lay down on the couch in cat form and trip balls," the redhead grins, munching, "Like I said, you don't have to keep me company, but if you could come by around six to make sure I eat something in cat form before switching back to human, that'd be great. I have a hard time keeping track when I'm... you know. Loopy."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Topic seemingly done with, Mike gives a slight smile, nodding to the suggestion for finishing up breakfast. "Deal." He agrees.

He picks up his fork, "Oh speaking about loopy, the next leg of the tour is coming up and..."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh, good!" Terry takes a sip of his coffee, "Tell me all about it. And, rest assured-" he raises a hand, "You don't need to worry about more puns for a while. I can assure you we will have nun of that!"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike pinches the bridge of his nose, "This is what I get for hooking up with a Cat-ho-lic."