raisetheearth | Happy Birthday My Olde Friend [August 24] [Shepherd's Haven] [Open]

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Happy Birthday My Olde Friend [August 24] [Shepherd's Haven] [Open]

Who: Lazarus, Nathan, Misa, OPEN to anyone in Shepherd's Haven or who might drop by
Where: Town Hall
When: August 24, Monday
What: Just because Tony stalked off doesn't mean that they aren't still going to be celebrating Nathan's 20th birthday. Look at the kid. You'd have to be a dick to even imply that he was born at an inconvenient time.
Warnings: Probably the most depressing birthday party ever.
Status: Ongoing/Open. Set your own threads here! Have fun! Or try to.

The day before had been a mess. Not only had Lazarus' doppelganger resurfaced after a full year of silence, effortlessly bringing infected sore points to the surface and sowing gleeful discord in his wake, but Tony had left on bitter and angry terms, accompanied by Richard. Understandably, it's cast a pall over the settlement, but as always, there are other things to think about, matters of obligation and the heart.

Nathan is turning 20 today. Lazarus remembers it blearily as he wakes up hungover. Dragging himself out of bed, showering, and dressing, he mentally runs over all the things he needs to do today.

See Misa about a cake. Get some toys from Woodend. Generally announce that this is happening, and above all, don't forget to smile.

He glances at a mirror and gives it a shot. His dry, pale skin, cracked lips and deep undereye circles don't make it look particularly encouraging. He fights back a wave of nausea, taking a quick seat, deciding that he can wait for it to pass before he tackles today's priorities.

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"No, he definitely is," Lazarus replies quickly, if not particularly happily. He's starting to get too nauseous for comfort. "Come on, you know this, that he's older than he looks..."

It's officially not a good idea to talk anymore, at least until he's regained his bearings. He nods miserably as she crouches next to him, taking a few deep, oxygen-rich breaths.

"I didn't listen," he croaks.

"Dummy..."

Misa presses her forehead to his, making sure he isn't feverish or otherwise sick. It seems to just be a bad hangover. She moves out of the line of fire in case he really is about to throw up, and attempts to help him to his feet.

"You rest on the couch, I'll make toast."

He bristles at that, as much as he can in his current condition. Being a genius is, while not a point of arrogance for him, certainly a part of his identity, and every time someone calls him less than bright is like a slap in the face. But he'll accept it in this case, knowing full well that he deserves it, that he should have been doing anything but getting drunk when shit was hitting the fan in Shepherd's Haven.

Hell. His doppelganger could be getting up to all sorts of mischief.

He groans as she helps him stagger to his feet, nodding and going to the couch without protest. His head's killing him and his stomach aches and rumbles forebodingly. Toast will help, but at the moment, absolutely nothing sounds appetizing in the least.

"Misa, I want to help with the cake..."

Setting the eggs aside as they enter the house, she guides Lazarus to the couch and all but forces him down like an invalid.

"Oh yeah?" Misa asks, tugging his shoes off and situating his legs on the couch. "You have to be able to stand to help in the kitchen. It's a rule."

She gets back to her feet, hands on her hips and fixing him with a look for several long seconds. But then she turns and busies herself putting away his shoes, putting bread in the toaster, and returns with a glass of water for him. "Drink up."

He makes a few token sounds of protest but ultimately lets her tuck his limbs onto the couch and situate him.

"Some rule. I could get a chair and stir something."

He takes the water.

"I don't know what kind of cake he likes. I'm not actually prepared for anything today, seems like."

"I don't want you throwing up in the batter," she says, turning back to take stock of what ingredients they have. "Everyone likes chocolate, right? Or maybe vanilla would be safer..."

"The sink's right th..." he stops, seeming to realize just how horrible that sounds. He leans his head back, the water tilting slightly in his hand.

"Knowing Nathan..." He's not nothing. "...vanilla. We should probably play it safe."

"Right... That's easier to make anyway."

Misa pulls out her phone, working out a list of ingredients. "We should have everything, I made cupcakes a while ago and didn't finish anything off. Sugar, flour, vanilla, the eggs... Do you think he'd like icing?"

"Icing... well, I'd like it," he admits. "If he wouldn't, then he can always scrape it off. Do you have everything we'd need for that, or should I get more eggs? Is milk needed?"

"I have milk, and butter. I don't think we need anything else," Misa assures him. It's true, but even if they do need something else there is no way she is sending him out in this condition. "Maybe I'll just put whipped cream on top. That can look pretty with strawberries."

And with the addition of fruit they can pretend that it's healthy.

Lazarus hates that he is relegated to utter uselessness by the reckless way he kept drinking last night after Misa left to go home. Why didn't he ask her to stay? Did any good even come of being alone?

Still, if they have everything they need, at least his uselessness could be worse.

"Strawberry shortcake?" he suggests. "I mean... that's cake, whipped cream and strawberries, and it's usually a crowd pleaser, in addition to looking good. I can't imagine Nathan would have a problem with it."

And it just happens to be his personal favorite cake, but he doesn't say as much, realizing that it might sound like a selfish ulterior motive.

"That sounds good!" Misa agrees. It's a simple enough recipe, and given the short notice they probably won't have time for a redo if something goes wrong. The only problem is a lack of strawberries, but... if she mentions that, Lazarus might try to get some, and Misa very much doubts he would make it to the store. They can deal with that later.

"Try to find a good recipe," she suggests, grabbing her phone and handing it to him. "I'll get everything ready."

He rather assumes that she has strawberries, perhaps a touch unfairly as it's winter in New Zealand, they are definitely out of season here, and getting them imported might take some time.

They could also use the teleporter, but fresh fruit in general is a lot more expensive since the calamity that wiped out such a big part of the western US.

He sulks minorly, feeling very much like a toddler given busywork to ensure that he doesn't get underfoot. "Uh, OK..."

even though I thought I just DID give you a good one?

"I'm really not that hungover, you know. I used to be a lot worse. On practically a daily basis."

"That doesn't make this good, you know," she says, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "I'm glad you're not that bad, but you still shouldn't have had so much!"

She sets about setting out everything they'll need, sans strawberries. That is probably going to have to be a teleporter related mission, but on the plus side they can deal with getting those after the cake is already done otherwise.

"Yeah, I know..." he mumbles. "I'm not proud. If it happens again you can of course reference this, but if it doesn't... could we agree to not bring it up again? I'm going to put everything from this point forward into making sure that Nathan has a good birthday, and then I'll focus on the Tony situation. And my... fucking Doppelganger." he pinches the bridge of his nose.

He eyes the ingredients. "Oh... no strawberries. I can probably find some in Gateway," he offers.

"I won't bring it up unless you give me a reason to," Misa stipulates. "It's not like I wasn't drinking last night too, just know your limits."

To be fair, Lazarus certainly had a lot worth drinking over. But the offer still gets him a look.

"Lazarus, you collapsed just a minute ago. You're not walking anywhere."

"I didn't collapse," he argues. "I was dizzy so I just took a moment. They're two entirely different things. And I know my limits, I was just... a lot younger when I was drinking like that habitually, I guess."

Younger and sadder and more desperate to drown a broader, less distinct kind of pain, but he doesn't say as much. There are parts of him that he would prefer that Misa never has to see or hear about.

"It's a quick trip, and I've had some water," he offers again.

"Hm... I have to see you stand up and walk around the room first," Misa says, turning to face him with her arms crossed. If he can manage that, maybe she will let him run the errand.

He stands, squinting and blinking to stave off the dizziness. Then he's up, striding purposefully toward the center of the room and making his way briskly around the room.

"Now will you let me help? It's Nathan's birthday, he's like family to me, and I can force sober for that to keep from letting him down."

"Alright," she answers slowly, still not entirely convinced. "But if you feel like you're about to faint you'd better call me! I'm going to get worried sick if you're late."

"I'll be just a second. I'm getting strawberries, not running a marathon," Lazarus assures her, heading for the door.

"...but OK. I'll call you. I don't want you to have to worry."

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Happy Birthday My Olde Friend [August 24] [Shepherd's Haven] [Open]

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