Owner	Pose
Tommy Shepherd	It's like Tommy is some kind of adult or something. Hard to believe, but at the ripe old age of twenty, he has his own place. The elevator takes forever to creak and moan its way up twenty-two storeys and the door buzzers are broken half the time, but the hallway is clean and relatively well cared for. Sure, the walls are thin so you get to know everyone's business, but it's a nice little place.     Emphasis on the little. One full step into the apartment from the front door and there's the bathroom door. Two steps to the right and you're fully out of the hallway and in the main living area, which is predominantly, like... at least seventy percent couch. But it's one of those couches you sink right into, so is that really so bad?     Tommy's in the kitchen, which is just around the wall from the front door. And he's cooking?     No, baking judging by the smudge of flour on his cheek. He's kneading his hands into a mound of dough on the butcher block, while some sort of podcast or news report (hard to tell) plays at 4x speed from where his laptop is hooked up to the television. The oven's preheating which means it's actually kind of toasty warm, given how little space there is to heat.
Billy Kaplan	Billy is a good brother. He tries to be, at least. Thing One and Thing Two tend to be stressful at times, and he's more familiar with being in Big brother mode than in being in Twin Mode. So it's hard to not have a little of the big brother concern creep into his interactions, because he hasn't had much practice otherwise. It's the reason why, as he makes his way to the apartment, he cradles a modest-sized tupperware of Kreplach. Far more than being 'Jewish wontons' as some people like to say (and he tries his best to not roll his eyes when they do), the dish has its own significance, and a reason for why it is often eaten on the eve of Yom Kippur. The Rebbe would tell you, for example, that the meat in the middle of the kreplach signifies the emotional attributes, called the middos, and the dough that encases the meat signifies knowledge. And so, on that eve, the innermost attribute of kindness, which is hidden within intellect, shines forth, and the Kreplach is therefore meant to be a symbol. Billy likes to think in symbols. One might say that he ended up in the perfect faith to enable such an outlook. Even if the symbol is lost on his newfound brother, it is enough that only one is aware of it. Symbols have power, even for only just one. r And, as if by magic*, a text message is sent to Tommy as Billy approaches the door, his hands full as they are with the container. <<Bro, I'm here!>> *It is, indeed, magic.
Tommy Shepherd	At least Tommy can wash his hands at super-speed. Because right now he's almost elbow deep in this dough, which is going to make a monster loaf of bread. Or maybe, like, several loaves of bread. It's a lot, and there's already baked goods piled high on all the available kitchen surfaces (which is to say, the one available other kitchen surface, which is a tiny wedge of counter between the stove and the fridge).     Hands squeaky clean now, Tommy zooms over to the front door to open it, still with the flour smudge on his cheek. There's probably some in his hair too, but how's anyone to know? It just blends in.     "Yo," is all he says in greeting, but he's grinning as he does so, eyeing up the container with unsurpressed glee. No, he has no idea of the significance; he's only managed to learn the barest information on Judaism in an effort to fit in better with the Kaplans. He'll get there eventually, though!     There's very little room to hold the door open given the space behind it is where shoes and coats and those sorts of things go, but Tommy figures it out. Sure he's standing half in the bathroom, but whatever, there's space for Billy to step inside. "Welcome to my humble abode. I'd give you a tour but uh, this is it, pretty much. Between the two of us, that's like a quarter of the available empty space."     Small New York apartments, what else is there to say? Tommy waves Billy towards the couch as he returns to his dough. "I just gotta let this proof for a while! But I'm about to put some cookies in, so we can have those in a bit."
Billy Kaplan	"Oh sweet, I was definitely feeling up for something like that- I actually almost got a bag of anise cookies when I passed Zafar's, but now I'm glad I didn't." The young mage surveys his brother's new space. When you grow up in New York, tiny spaces is something you get accustomed to. The Kaplans haven't always had as accommodating a space as they currently inhabit. No, when Billy was much younger, and before his mother went into private practice, they had a bit of a squeeze. Of course, the twins hadn't arrived by then. "It's cozy, I like it!" he says approvingly, and meaning it. He is particularly impressed by the large collection of baseball caps, figuring that if they get the team going and his brother goes full in on it, they are absolutely covered if they ever want to do a team baseball game night. He ambles to the couch and sits down, the container on his lap, and grins, "How long did it take you to find it? I'm probably going to have to do the search soon myself. I've heard nightmare stories!"
Tommy Shepherd	"They're monster cookies," Tommy explains, which probably doesn't explain anything at all but he doesn't elaborate. He's too busy oiling up a big bowl that he then proceeds to dump the bread dough into, before covering it and setting it aside. Well, as aside as anything can be in a tiny kitchen.     He washes his hands again (and again at super speed) just as the oven dings, and out from the fridge come the cookies so that immediately, into the oven go the cookies. And finally, Tommy is able to join Billy on the couch. It only takes him a few normal-Human-perspective seconds to realize how the television probably sounds to Billy, so Tommy reaches over to smack the spacebar on his laptop to stop the video. "Sorry. Easier for me to listen to that way."     Grabby hands are made towards the container as Tommy says, "Frickin' impossible, man, I spent like three months trying to find a place in my budget that wasn't a total slum. Eventually I just spent an entire week working around the clock to put enough away in savings that I could afford something semi-decent." He shakes his head. "Anyway, how've you been?"     The attention to the cap collection doesn't go unnoticed, and Tommy tips his head back to peer up at it. It's not complete, but he does have a good chunk of the nation's teams represented. "I try to go to a game any time I take a long-distance delivery gig. The minor league teams always put on a hell of a show. Giveaways, competitions, fireworks, the whole thing."
Billy Kaplan	"I always wondered what everything was like for speedsters, you know," Billy grins as Tommy stops the video, "Y'know, if I am too slow for you, I could always try to spell myself faster when we're hanging out." What could possibly go wrong, considering how he is still getting a hold of his powers? He could potentially accelerate himself into the twenty-thirdth century. "And man, that sounds... eesh. I've decided to stay here and go to NYU in the Fall. But I think it's a better idea to not do live in one of the residence halls. For reasons financial and otherwise-" otherwise being magic, and villains, and the weird things that happen to him. "I mean, 21K for room and board is kind of nuts and I'm sure I can find something cheaper. That's not staying with my parents," he adds, hands up, "I think I'm all ready for independence, even if mom is getting misty-eyed thinking about it. But Thing One and Thing Two are still at home, so she won't have much time to miss me," he grins. "It's an impressive collection, and better organized than mine." Billy isn't exactly messy, but he's not exactly neat. He has a lot of collectibles- nerdy collectibles. Cards. Action figures. Action figures of superheroes- there was a slight awkwardness at the notion that he owns both a Scarlet Witch and a Vision statuette because, if America is right, that's like having a little action figure of your parents and *who does that* anyways? But his collection isn't arranged with intent to display so much as an intent to surround. They're everywhere in his room.
Tommy Shepherd	"Everyone's slow." Tommy looks earnestly at Billy for a moment, like he's really considering the offer, but he knows first hand just how badly spells can go. And judging by the furrow of his brow, he's decided it isn't worth it. "Don't worry about it. I got used to it."     The price for room and board at a residential hall makes him wince, even though it's probably not all that different than what he's paying for this place, who knows. The bit about independence, though, that Tommy gets. "It's worth it. After--," pause, frown, swallow, "After I got out, I got enrolled in school again and there was a place for me to stay there, but it wasn't my own space, y'know? Having this, even though it's tiny," and then he just shakes his head again, repeating "It's worth it," again.     If Billy had let Tommy touch any of his collectibles, he definitely would have been making the Scarlet Witch and Vision figures do kissy faces at each other. But chances are Billy wouldn't have allowed that.     "It gives me something to do. I have to, I don't know, cultivate hobbies so that I'm not a headcase. Trying to be some other stereotype than disaster bi, here."
Billy Kaplan	"Oh yeah, I mean, c'mon, sharing the space with someone you might not get along with? Residence halls aren't worth it. And what if you want to bring a date over? Or what if /they/ bring a date over and you have to sit outside for the rest of the night because there's a sock on the doorknob?" Does that ever happen? He doesn't know. He's heard it does. And he's already agonized about how awkward and anxiety-inducing the situation might be. Overthinking is in his DNA. "Disaster bi, meet disaster gay. That's how you know we're family, we are the thing that happens to other people, right?" he chuckles. And then that's when he offers the container, "So, mom made an extra batch and I told her I'd come by to visit, so she let me have these to share! She's already asking when you want to come over for dinner again. She likes it when people appreciate her food... Thing One and Thing Two are at the age where they're suddenly restaurant critics and nothing is too good for them and I think she's been close to drowning them in the river once or twice this month alone." The thought of hobbies brings his train of thought to a new bend. "I like to read. A lot. Probably nowhere near as much as you could at your speed, though. But I imagine you're capable of learning things much faster, right? There's a whole bunch of hobbies that can benefit from that! Except... maybe, model building. Because you have to wait for the glue to dry." /He/ wasn't particularly patient at that, despite the fact that there are several model ships in his room- like the Enterprise (D), or the Avenger's craft. But there were only a /few/, which explains just how far his patience could stretch and no more. Imagining hummingbird Tommy waiting for regular ol' glue to dry? Not happening.
Tommy Shepherd	There's a lot of agreeing head-bobbing coming from Tommy. Yes, clearly he has very similar concerns to Billy about sharing a space. "Chances are they'd either hate me or I'd hate them," he says of this theoretical roommate he's conjured up in his mind. "I talk a lot and I never sleep. Apparently people think that's annoying, or something." And Tommy seems to think that's their problem, not his.     The they in reference to that "their" being, yes, this imaginary roommate still. "If your mom doesn't think I'm annoying yet, I'll come over as often as you want me to."     He takes one of the dumplings out of the container and pipes up with a quick "Thanks!" before popping it right into his mouth. Speed-chewing happens, and then he adds, "I have no idea if I was supposed to just eat it like that, but uh, my metabolism tends to make me do things I don't mean to, sometimes. Should I... make some soup? Dumplings usually go in soup, right?"     Seriously, no idea. Tommy isn't even sure if his kitchen contains the goods and sundry necessary for soup right now, but it does seem to support plenty of baked items. Speaking of! Right over the top of the couch Tommy goes, popping up on his feet after to stroll in and retrieve a plate of croissants. "I made my own laminated dough and it wasn't worth the effort but they *are* delicious and flaky." He snorts. "Pretty sure I'm the thing happening to the waistline of everyone I know. The butter content in these things is insane, let me tell you."     Aside for the baseball cap collection, there's not a whole lot of room for signs of other hobbies. There's a stack of books next to the television, but those look more like textbooks than reading-for-pleasure books. Tommy's still working on getting his high school diploma, after all. The plants probably count as a hobby, though. He has succulents and hanging vines and then a whole host of things-in-pots out on his tiny balcony overlooking the street. Between that and the baking, maybe he's aiming for cottagecore bisexual.