Aftermath of I, Robot (video; open)

[skintoskin]

[Neil sits in on his bed, dressed in jeans and a white, sleeveless t-shirt, fingers twitching a little. His room is immaculate, like something from a design magazine, but he doesn't seem to be focused on anything but a large, wooden dresser. He has a crowbar across his lap. He isn't facing at the device, but it is apparent that he might be a little... traumatized. Something that could be a robot is on the floor, a large dent in it's head.]

It... folded all my clothes. It... It matched my socks...

[Twitch.]






((OOC: Sort of back now, but won't be around until later, so replies will be slow. Will catch-up on tagging then, too.))

Comments

[skintoskin]

[He lifts one hand just enough to pojnt at the still robot, lying on the floor between his bed, where he's sitting, and his wooden dresser.]

I... I stopped it... I think...

[mightbeconcussed]

Okay... Do you need some company or tea or scotch or anything?

[skintoskin]

Uh... company would be good... and scotch, yeah... and food...

[mightbeconcussed]

On my way with all of those things.

[She shows up about twenty minutes later with a couple of containers of food (fried chicken and pasta salad) and a bottle of good scotch. She knocks on the door and waits for Neil to answer. She's more than a bit worried about him.]

[skintoskin]

[He opens the door cautiously, to make sure it's her, then opens it wider to let her in.]

Hey. C'mon in.

[His small apartment is tidy and clean and looks like a place for a magazine shoot.]

And... it doesn't usually look like this...

[mightbeconcussed]

[Lucy steps in with a smile.]

It's okay. At least you won't have to clean up for a few days?

[Lucy's usually does because she's a neat freak, but she understands most people aren't.]

[skintoskin]

I guess that's a plus, yeah.

[He closes the door behind her.]

Just... Put that stuff wherever you want...

[mightbeconcussed]

[She sets everything on a table and turns to look at Neal, hands on hips.]

All right, how are you doing and what do you need first? Food or alcohol?

[skintoskin]

[He smiles a little. She's so practical and kind.]

In order: shaky and yes.

[mightbeconcussed]

[She nods and opens a couple of cupboards until she finds a glass. Scotch is poured into it and handed over.]

I'll heat up a plate in the microwave.

[skintoskin]

[He accepts the glass gratefully and has a deep sip. It doesn't bother him in the least.]

What'd you bring?

[He gestures at the food with his scotch.]

[mightbeconcussed]

Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. I hope you like Southern food.

[She makes him a plate with a little of all of that on it and pops it in the microwave.]

[skintoskin]

[He isn't going to drool. That would be stupid. The sudden need to eat makes it tough to not drool, though.]

Any food is great, but Southern sounds fuck - fantastic.

[mightbeconcussed]

[That makes her laugh.]

It's nice to get that sort of reception to my food. [She takes the plate out when it's done and slides it over to him along with a fork then starts making her own plate.]

Dig in.

[skintoskin]

[Neil sits at the kitchen table and pokes at the food with his fork, inhaling the aroma.]

This is great. Thanks.

[Then he starts to eat, blowing on the food sometimes before he puts it into his mouth, because it is quite hot.]

[mightbeconcussed]

You're welcome and thank you. [ She sits down next to Neil with her own plate.]

Cooking is kind of something I do, even when I don't have anyone to cook for. It reminds me of home and it's...comforting.

[skintoskin]

Mmmmph...

[He says, nodding in agreement, mouth full.]