"A three year old gets a pass. Plus...three? Good lord. Why kidnap a three year old." His lip lifted in disgust. "I'm talking 8 and up. Kids who should know better. Sucky parents, stupid kids." Axl snorted. Obviously he's like talking ten percent the kids fault, mostly the parents and kidnappers, but still. They have a part in not getting kidnapped. The parents can do everything right, but if the kid still takes the candy, that's partially their fault. "Aw c'mon, if they don't think for a milliseconds that the bald 40 year old man in the white van with horrible breath and an evil sneer offering them candy MIGHT not be the most delightful man... kinda their fault." He said flatly. If he hadn't been torn away from his parents, and he had done something like that, they likely would've disowned him. He remembered quite little of his parents. Mostly physical things. His mother had been a fox hybrid, a vicious little thing. She was only 5'3 and all of that was put into snarling fury. The woman had a bite that could shred skin from bone. His father was a massive monster, as many said. 6'8, a partial bear hybrid, partial wolf, with something else. Something no one quite understood. That's where Axl was told he got his horns, but it was concerning to think about what that something else could've been. His father had been a kind soul, gentle as a mouse, loving his mother with unconditional love that Axl had never felt. He had seen his father turn into what people said he was once when another hybrid tried to hurt his mother for being a smart ass. That was one of his clearest memories. That hybrid hadn't left that day. The faded memory flitted away as she spoke. He missed part of the sentence, but pieced together what she said. "Mm. Good idea." He mused, not coming back with his usual sharp retort. He was too busy pondering. What would he have turned out like under their supervision? Probably a gentleman, if his father had anything to do with it. He almost laughed at the thought. Not really a happy laugh. A bitter laugh. He was anything but a gentleman at the moment. The most gentlemanly thing he had done was throw himself over Norrie when the building exploded, not that she needed protecting. Plus that was jerk instinct. If he would've thought about it, he would've been gone the instant a distraction happened. Right? Yeah. His mother probably would've taught him to have a sharp tongue yet still have self control, something he failed to possess. He distinctly remembered her disliking swear words, so he would've been fucked.

"A lot, but you should've figured that out by now." He cast her a sweet smile, fangs flashing. He knew it was fucked up, but thats what he was. No use trying to dent THAT. No, it was a given.

"I'm not THAT smug, get offa my back." Axl grumbled. About that, anyway. He merely said that he was still WINNING, despite her pessimistic attitude. He never tried to claim it was by a mile, and he never tried to say that he was so much better because of it. He knew he wasn't more than a shitty sack of rocks.

(She's conditioned me to this xD)

He made a face. A I-truly-don't-believe-you face. "Yes, I do need some form of calories, but not right now." He said slowly. He just felt hollow right now, which was three steps before dead. He was fine. Well, he assumed three steps before dead. The next step was excruciating pain, and the step after that was unconsciousness, so he assumed death came soon after. This meant he could probably last another week and be fine.

(That sounds so like my dreams XDDD. Just the WELP, HE'S DEAD lol)

He rolled his eyes at her dramatic tone, but to be HONEST, it was a LITTLE CONCERNING. She was like the undead. Ugh. Zombie grandma.

Axl blinked and paused, thinking. Well, it wasn't when he got the apartment thing instead of a cage. "Does unconscious count?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "Actually, yeah, it should. Still resting. Uh, then, 1 week and 3 days ago, if I'm remembering correctly." He mused, and after a moment, frowned. "I am not a sleep deprived idiot. There is no point in trying to sleep when I will fail. Miserably." That was illogical. If he knew he wouldn't be able to konk off, then trying to would be a waste of his time. "I won't slow you down." He added with a flat tone before resuming his pacing, outside the room. If that's what she was worried about, then it'd be fine. He had been awake for longer than this and had been almost fine. Axl was good at forcing himself to stay awake.

"Well... you kidnap a 3 year old and you can condition them into thinking whatever nefarious activities you get up to are normal," she said. True, but horrible way to think. "Alright, fair enough," she agreed, "I feel like parents should be required to take courses in psychology, nutrition, and education, and then have to pass tests before they have kids." It'd really cut down on parents unintentionally giving their kids trust issues n shit.

"Dude, you're like... way too familiar with movies. Very rarely is it actually some creepy old dude," Norrie snorted. "Last I checked, young, friendly women had been employed, who the kids naturally are inclined to trust." Not always, of course, there were still the stereotypical middle-aged guys who just don't pass the vibe check, but still.

"I'm.. gonna take that as I've actually reconsidered and realized that being drunk on the job isn't such a grand idea after all, so you don't need to go through the trouble of German DoorDash, am I close?" She mused. Now, though, she kind of wanted to try, just to see if she really could get alcohol delivered. And if it was doable? Bonus points. She was generally well behaved in the way of not getting abso-fuckin-lutely wasted, so why not have a little treat? No harm in that. Right?

"Yeah, I think I have," she grumbled, shaking her head. He didn't just get the short stick, he got the toothpick. The fucking splinter.

"You are," she snorted. More like he hid behind his smug bravado, but whatever. The point was, you don't get to act like, or imply you are, the most awesome person alive when the ONE opponent showed up 2 hours late to the competition and only made it across the finish line because they tripped and fell.

"I'd reconsider," Norrie said flatly with a poke to his ribs, "you look like Billy from American Dad." (context) It was hardly an exaggeration, too. A little bit, yes, as he was far taller and less unappealing in the face, but still.

(I dunno if I should feel better that I'm not alone or if we should both go to therapy xD I vividly remember thinking annoyedly that's euthanasia, not suicide, dumbass lmao)

"No, unconscious does not count," Norrie retorted sharply, "there's a difference between your body dealing with a head injury and literally everything else it does when you actually sleep." That really should be obvious, but that figures he believes just being unconscious is the same as sleeping. She sighed, leaning against the doorway as he paced. Yeah, no, just someone else being awake and active made her brain more aware that it was in fact the middle of the day, so sleeping wouldn't be so easy. Plus, while she could usually fall alseep damn near anywhere, she'd slept off like... most of the flight there.

"...Why do you pace so much? I don't think this floor can take it, go set shit on fire or something," she mused. He'd probably find some rotting boards, followed by another room in the basement, and yet another corpse.

(done😌)

Axl snorted lowly, shaking his head. "Also, I feel parents shoooould take a basic common sense test. Don't let your children eat rocks, don't let them play with knives." He had SEEN a mother chatting on the phone while the kid almost got ran over in the street chasing a butterfly. How he has seen that was because he could connect to most security cameras, and he had been majorly bored. Sooo he had glanced at a nearby Starbucks camera. Near to his prison thing anyway. And he could only access American cameras, so here in Germany, he'd have to find an intelligent way to hack them with nobody knowing.

"I was laying down a random thing, yeesh. I know it's not usually that. Statistics say the most kidnappings happen by a family member, typically a parent, especially in cases where the parents get divorced n' shit. There are always the good ol' infant abductions by women who are infertile or something and want a baby, non family abductions ... just weird ass creeps stealing kids offa da road... family abductions that are not close family, usually happening because of custody stuff or perceived injustice." He mused, not even needing to look up the information. He had memorized all this. Always nice as a child to try your hardest to figure out why someone would want to steal you away from your family... then realize it was just because they needed an experiment. And that you were a 'dangerous hybrid'. Blah blah blah.

He blinked slowly like he hadn't heard a singular word she said. "Yeaaaahhhhh... wait.. no. No, alcohol sounds good. Didn't I say that? What did I say?" Confusion flitted over his face as he recalled his words. Oh, yeah. He had said, in all its glory, 'mm, good idea.' He was pretty sure he said that to her saying they should see if they could get alcohol. He was 100% sure he wanted to burn a couple thoughts away, though.

To put it in perspective, someone got an entire stick and accidentally sneezed, and a small particle flew off and hit Axl. He was pretty sure she hadn't fully grasped how totally ruined his mind was, but eh. It didn't matter. Nothing really did, in this life. Shit happened, people died, earth continues with or without you.

He ignored her cruel words about him being smug, instead letting his claws slide out and picking at a loose floorboard. It creaked and groaned before snapping dramatically, instead of just coming up. He wrinkled his nose as dust came flying out, unable to stop himself before letting out a helluva sneeze. "That was not normal dust." He choked out, peering into the small hole as the dust settled. A small black book. Hmmm. He picked it up, brushing off more dust, and opened it up very carefully, in case the pages disintegrated in his fingers. It was blank. "Motherfucking ..." the rest of his growl trailed off as he dropped the book and wedged the board back into place.

"I- what?" His eyes widened with absolute shock, jaw falling open. "You DID NOT JUST SAY THAT." How DARE she. That - how did he even respond? Murder her? That was insulting as fuck. "I don't having a fucking pot belly! Nor does my head look like someone forget to stop blowing it up- God save whoever had to give birth to that horrendous being, even if not in real life. Still scary. Also, he looks like a FUCKING STICK THAT COULDN'T LIFT A TWIG. And his skin is so pale he could pass for Casper the ghost! And his hairline-" Axl shuddered. "Horrific." There was no other words. He didn't think ANYONE had ever said something so rude. To make it all better, Billy was merely a creation, and so was he in a way. Just a bunch of loose parts thrown together to make something no one liked. "Goddamnit." He glared at her. Now she got him wallowing in self pity. Damn her.

(... we should both go to therapy.

That is GOLD XD)

"Why doesn't unconscious count!? You're still sleeping." He groaned, then rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay, er, over a month ago then." Or maybe more. His memory didn't even go back that far. "It still does stuff while unconscious." He grumbled, but he knew it wasn't actually good for him. Then again, when was anything. His boots sent up small clouds of dust where ever he stepped and occasionally the floorboard would creak randomly. Unhelpful, as it interrupted his thinking process. He was actually him. He just wasn't a cyborg when he was born, duh. And he didn't have ... a million different things they shoved inside of him. Shit. He was probably more computer and attack modes than he was Axl. He winced, then glanced at her. "Setting stuff on fire will bring attention to us. It's not normal." He muttered. Pacing let him think while giving his nervous energy somewhere to go. He never thought well while standing still. "I can't believe you think I look like anyone from American Dad." He finally huffed in a plaintive tone. "And of course you picked Billy. The Frankenstein of the show." A scowl flitted across his face. This wasn't helping his thoughts. He needed to blow something up. Slowly burning something was too slow. Unless he did something like holding a match under his arm and seeing how long he could hold it there... then it wasn't good enough. And Norrie'd probably kill him for that, because the last time he did it, he almost melted his skin and got third degree burns. From a match. He relished in the pain, apparently. Distracted him.

"And lighters. Some dumbass got on Dr. Phil because his toddler found a lighter at a family member's house, set himself on fire, and the dude believed it was said family member's fault," she snorted, shaking her head. True story. The dad did come around in the end and realize he was the only one at fault for not watching his child properly, thank god. Some of the people on that show are so fucking delusional.

"Eexxactly. However, if a parent or family member takes a kid, the chances of them being hurt or just never seen again are a lot lower, whereas a kid snatched off the street by a stranger is usually just gone." Pretty shitty either way, I mean, if you sucked enough to lose custody of your child, don't ya think that's for a reason? Not always, though, sometimes it's just a breakup and the judge prefers to keep kids with their mothers, but still.

"Dude, I need a clear yes or no here. And if that's a yes, what do you want?" Norrie said pointedly. Not a yes no maybe so. (Order doordash but instead chocolate grandma's goons show up?)

She watched curiously as he defaced the old lady's floor and pulled out a book before snickering, "Oh lookie here, a diary for you. You could decorate it with stickers and glitter." If he hadn't put it back, he probably would've just to prove a point and be petty.

"I did," Norrie said with a shit-eating grin before damn near choking on laughter at his outburst. "Hey, in Billy's defense, he was only 6 inches tall before some crack back-alley doctor did all that," She snorted. In some ways, an improvement; in others, not. BUT. Considering Axl seemed to want to boycott sleep and food, he was well on his way to looking like the spitting image of Billy.

"No, you're not. Lying dormant to prevent further brain damage isn't the same," Norrie argued. "Different stuff." It was like doing maintenance versus working to stabilize a nuclear reactor. Sorta. It should be pretty frigging obvious, though. "That's true. Still, find something better to do," she snorted. Something that, y'know, didn't encourage the mind to just wander and fall spiral down into rabbit holes of panic and despair.

Norrie gave him a sheepish, almost apologetic grin and said, "Sor-ry. Am I really that far off, though?" Yes. Well, not too far off, just very out of line there. Very disrespectful. As per usual.

(sorry it's a bit shorter and took so long, my sister's friend is here lol)

Axl ran his hand through his hair at the story. "There is no hope for this nation." Or any other. No hope for humanity, really. They were all royally fucked. He didn't even want to know what normal ass people did every day, because it would likely disappoint him just as much.

"Unless the family member is a literal crazy person, like me, then yeah." He grinned, glancing around the small space. Good thing he had that moral code intact. He would never hurt a child, physically anyway. He quite liked children, to be honest. Not that he'd tell anyone that. The couple he had met had been infinitely kind to him. Children had it figured out- then they morphed into adults and it was like 'AUGH WTF HAPPENED TO THE SWEETNESS.' Horrible, really. Actually, that usually happened around 12 years old, to be honest.

He blinked again, then nodded vigorously. "Yes. Firm yes. Anything. Literally anything. I don't give a shit at this point." Whether it was the thoughts annoying him or the remembering he likely would never leave Germany, he didn't care. "Jagerbombs, actually- not too many, though, don't want to kill myself. Anything German. German alcohol is the best." He mused. Maybe he could get a biergurtel while he was at it.

(Yeah, that works)

A low scoff escaped at her words, and he sniffed haughtily as he stood. "Not happening. I only like glitter a little, and I don't have any stickers." His words dripped with obvious sarcasm. "Plus that cover was probably made from the smoked skins of her victims." He wrinkled his nose. It hadn't been normal. It hadn't even quite felt like leather. Eugh.

Axl groaned as she went on about Billy, his mind physically hurting. He had a headache. From being compared to one of the ugliest TV show characters of all time. "It is the same." He muttered sulkily, his mouth twisting into a weird grimace as his stomach reminded him that it needed something. Maybe if he swallowed his own spit he'd be fine. They didn't have TIME to eat. They were doing something.

"No." He refused flatly, continuing his pacing. She could try to stop him, he didn't care. Words weren't gonna do shit. His fingers curled inwards as he performed a slow pivot, To The Rear, as it was called I the military, to turn around each time. He had been taught all the D&C, in case he did actually get used, and it was the easiest way to turn around. It was obvious that he had been militarized since he was young. He even paced in frickin' formation, arms matching his strides as he thought.

"Yes. Very far." He replied sternly, frowning at her for a moment before resuming. He could not believe that she would compare him to that monstrosity. Offensive, much.

(No problem)

"Yuuup. It's fine though, the sun will blow up soon and end our suffering." Well, a few billion years, but that was soon enough.

"Ehhh... if I'm being honest, you just seem like the fun uncle that went to prison and buys his nieces and nephews illegal fireworks for their birthdays," She said. Or is given a list of shit NOT to buy and then goes and gets everything on that list.

"Wonderful, have at it," she snorted, handing him her phone. She didn't give a shit what he picked. "That's Jaegermeister and redbull, right?" She asked, tilting her head. She wasn't an alcohol connoisseur, and it showed, hence why he could order his own stuff. She'd just filch whatever offa him.

(Wait no it kinda doesn't work- I low-key want these goobers to get drunk outta their little minds lol. bonding time before they kill each other xD)

"I can get you black glitter if you'd prefer, and the sticker problem is easily remedied," Norrie snorted. "Even better, nobody tries to read it." Then again, it might wind up as evidence against you in court, which was exactly where they were both doomed to end up one day for some crime or another. Yay.

"Very much not the same." Yeah, no. They were cousins, not twins. Whacking someone over the head with a two-by-four was in fact very different from them taking a flippin' nap.

"Suit yourself, I ain't gonna make you do anything, but you probably ought to be mindful of the fact you're wasting energy you kinda don't have." If he'd just EAT, or even drink water, he'd be far better off. Hell, Norrie'd GLADLY order a damn pizza and they could have a pizza party on the floor like it was the third grade except with alcohol instead of 7-Up or Sprite. Well... as far as Norrie was aware, [or cared to be aware] Jackson didn't really drink, so Sprite for him.

"Sorry," She said again, though the way she said it implied very heavily that she was, in fact, not sorry. Not one bit.

She watched him a moment longer before saying, "Why don't you go outside or something? You clearly need it." It wasn't even an insult or snide remark- he genuinely looked like he didn't enjoy being inside, and understandably so. If he went and explored out behind the shack, it'd probably be fine, especially considering they were at the end of easily half a dozen miles of dirt road. The chances of anyone even driving down it were slim.

"Yay for the sun." Axl snorted. Actually, he hoped that happened sooner rather than later. Hopefully another earth would form and velociraptors would take over or some shit like that.

"Aw, that's a compliment if I've ever heard one." He positively beamed at her kind-not-kind words. Actually, he hadn't heard one, but whatever. He would be a DELIGHTFUL uncle that gave his nieces and nephews illegal fireworks. And possibly beer. Just little sips here and there, enough that their parents wouldn't know. Only problem... he had no relatives as far as he knew. All hunted. Phooey.

He peered at the screen for a moment before selecting what he needed. "Correct. Usually redbull, but it can be made with other energy drinks as well." He preferred the usual redbull, although he had tried it with Monster. With a quiet sigh of pain, he also added a pizza from somewhere just so that he wouldn't die. He slapped a bottle of whiskey on there for luck and handed her phone back.

(That's a better idea lol. They need some delightful bonding time, being too drunk to hate each other hehe)

"We ain't stopping at a fucking Walmart on the way to murder some shitheads, so I'll have to do without my glitter." He sighed with extreme unhappiness, his eyes rolling.

"It's still rest, however... painful." He pointed out. Just not happy fall asleep on a soft fluffy bed rest. More like get a concussion possibly die bleeding out on hard concrete floor rest.

He grunted lowly, his steps slowing. "I ordered pizza, by the way. Since you were so adamant about food." He grumbled, resuming his slow pacing. He wanted a delicious carb infested pizza and some Jagerbombs before he died. Maybe a fireball or two if he could find them. He knew that he really shouldn't fight people while delirious, but usually the hunger just drove him to be better. All pain and anger worked like that. It just made him more dangerous. If he was sated and stuffed and happy, he'd be so much less of a killing machine. He wasn't supposed to be full and comfortable. That wasn't good.

Axl cast her a look that showed how he was not accepting her half assed and not truthful apology, studying the floor as she spoke. "You do realize this is my home, right? Germany? I could just leave. Go back to the Black Forest." He shrugged. "Why tell me to go outside. Unless I truly have gotten so annoying that you would risk the wrath of all the officers in the US then spend one more second with me." He added, tilting his head as he weighed the possibilities. What he WANTED to do was go find some woods, inhale fresh air, and take a nap in the sun. Then go flying, feel free, and eat. Climb a tree, terrorize some deer, sleep. Think about his parents being murdered in front of his face, go find out if he had any other relatives, take another nap. Sounded great to him.

"On second thought, toodles." Axl said abruptly, changing his course and hopping the gaping hole as he disappeared outside. His wings twitched as he rounded the side of the house and strode straight into the brush. He could see woods a little farther off, but it was just fields till then. He decided to stay on the ground as to not risk being seen, but quickly broke into a full out sprint for the woods. Maybe he did just need a break. Who knows.

"Take it how you want," she snorted. If the fun uncle status was one you desired - and it damn well should be if you're cool - then it was a helluva compliment. Being the fun uncle wasn't just being the uncle that was fun, it was to have fun whilst being an uncle.

"Hm. Does Celsius count?" she asked curiously. Honestly, Celsius tasted WAY better than most other brands, but it was kind of costly. And hard to find, most stores don't really carry it, for some reason.

(exactly lol)

"Who says we can't knock out a couple of side quests on the way?" Norrie mused. Well, probably everyone. But hey, all it'd take is 20 minutes tops, no biggie. Then again... they were probably on the news by now, and it'd take maybe 5 minutes to be recognized and 10 for cops to show up. No glitter this time, I suppose.

"Well yes, but actually no," she snorted. No matter how you tried to justify it, it still wasn't the same.

"Wonderful, thanks," she said, then added mischievously, "if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're learning." Him, learning? Pffft. Naw. Wouldn't happen before the sun blows up, at least. That'd be like Jackson reading at anything above a second-grade level. Run, Spot, run, bitch.

"I know. I also know you've had like.. several opportunities to leave thus far, and chose not to. Innocent until proven guilty, y'know? Besides, any inconvenience I can cause those fuckwads is entertainment for me," she said. He was actually quite entertaining, but since Jackson was still conked out, she wouldn't have to deal with his dumb fucking questions, so that was great.

"Good. Shoo," she said, flapping her hands at him in that old-lady-ish get-outta-here gesture, repercussions be damned.

With him outside, and near-silence, Norrie just laid down on the dusty floor, listening to all the small, unidentified sounds and memorizing the sound of this shack's version of calm.

(terribly sorry it's short again my westward facing comrade >.<)

Well, Axl was gonna take it as a compliment no matter what. He would kill to be the fun uncle. The one that bought the kid a dirt bike and let them ride it only at his trailer house. The one that taught them how to throw axes and how to defend themselves. That sounded great. He 100 percent wanted to be the one that taught a kid the word 'fuck' and told them it meant they were super happy. That was the kind of evil he needed.

"Yup." He shrugged. "It's an energy drink, and it tastes a helluva lot better than most." Honestly, he didn't care what you threw in it. As long as it shot you full of energy, it worked. It should burn going down.

"The entire US military." He pointed out flatly. Plus... glitter. No other explanation needed. And lastly, he hated sparkly things, so duh. No need. Plus it would be rather dangerous to stop by a store and be like 'yeh we are criminals but GIVE US THE FUCKING GLITTER'.

A skeptical expression crossed his face and he scoffed lowly, shaking his head. "Learning? No. Using the tiny part of my brain for half a second to decide food wouldn't kill me and would be helpful? Maybe." Honestly, he knew that he needed to eat. He just... he wasn't used to being ABLE to. If he was hungry, he could get food. No one else batted an eye to that, but since he had been forcefully taken from his family- he hadn't been able to eat when he wanted. Or even when he needed. It didn't make sense.

"Hm. Fair." He nodded slightly. "I might just sober up and fly the coop, though, so be warned." He smirked before he left. Just that made even him know he was going back. He couldn't just leave. Even though he could. Stupid fucking brain.

Axl was in the woods within seconds, his nostrils flaring as every scent for miles flowed in. He skidded to a stop and glanced around, eyes narrowing. Why the hell not. Let's scare a deer half to death. He spread his wings and shot up into a tree, then tucked them in and ran silently along the limbs, claws extended just enough as to where he could grip stuff. He was built for this. A lethal hunter. His pupils narrowed to slits as his senses heightened. He slowed as he neared the animal that he had smelled a mile back. Axl sheathed his claws before shooting out of the tree and all but grappling the deer. He could've easily killed it... but he didn't. His nostrils flooded with the delightful scent of fear, his mind going slightly crazed with delight. He had to force himself to back away from the failing animal and let it bolt away. Every instinct told him to stop it, but he didn't. Oh, how he loved the smell of fear. It worked just like human drugs did. It was a high for hybrids, intended to make them more lethal in that second it counted for the kill. He used it to ride the wave.

Axl gallavanted around for almost 45 minutes before the faint smell of pizza tickled his nose. He was immediately bolting. He must've been about 5 miles away, but he got there within 15 minutes.

He skidded into the doorway, looking 100 times more delighted as pizza scent flooded his nose, almost falling right into the hole. He Saved it again, though, landing on the edge and looking at the box he assumed the alcohol was in. He was still 'slightly' intoxicated, for lack of a better word, and the smell of the alcohol didn't help.

"Wonderful," she said with a grin, then added, "y'know, I'll admit, you have pretty okay taste." Yeah, sure, just pretty okay. In all honesty, she'd probably trust his opinion on whether some food or another is okay or not over anyone else. Food was also one of few things she really took totally seriously, so that was kind of a high-status: food opinionator.

"Nyeh. Unfortunately for them, they've supplied me with firearms, which are great for getting out of punishments in a pinch. Only works once, though," Norrie mused. Ah yes, the entire fucking US military's after you? Eat the muzzle of the gun they gave ya, why dontcha.

"Isn't that how evolution happened, though? Braincells getting used more and more and having to gain more to keep up over millions of years?" she said. It sounded about right, if you include all the other types of cells that had to do the same thing.

"Mhm. Like I said, could've, but still haven't. If you were gonna wise up a little, I'd've thought you'd have done it by now," she teased. She just chalked it up to his hybrid instincts to stay or whatever, not so much that he actually wanted to. What a ridiculous notion.

(poor deer x'D)

When the car FINALLY made its way down the shitty road, Norrie shook Jackson awake hard enough for him to fall off the couch with a whump and an oof. Probably not good for his few brain cells, but whatever. He clambered up, and before he could ask a reasonable question in a stupid way, Norrie said, "There'll be food here in a second, get the door and pay the driver, kay?" Jackson had PayPal. Norrie did not. Besides, he could help out every now and then.

Jackson, in his idiot politeness, managed a normal human interaction despite not understanding a lick of what the delivery guy said. He wisely didn't question the additional box that clinked quietly when moved, too. Norrie perched on the armrest of the couch, scarfing down a slice of pizza, and damn near choked on it laughing when Axl burst through the door like an excited puppy.

"Eat," she chortled before returning to eating like the absolute goblin she was. She didn't drink often as it was, and really didn't want to on an empty stomach. Very bad idea. She'd made that mistake only once before, and sure as shit learned her lesson when it didn't go well. Like, at all.