Midnight Manor kitchen, Wednesday afternoon

[knightinshinarmor]

Remy had finally found the mysterious squirrel radio broadcast, and discovered that there was a young woman around here who was excited to hear about another southerner.

That was more than enough to convince him he should take the time to make a nice gumbo for the house. Admittedly, it didn't take much.

He had a pot of chicory coffee going and sipped from a mug of it as he stirred the roux. It was a little quiet in here so far (he missed arguing over spices with Jean), but he was hoping that the aromatics and seasoning would draw people in soon enough.

If not . . . well. At least gumbo froze well.

[open! APPARENTLY I CAN PLAY THIS GUY. OMG.]

Comments

[single_man_tear]

Dean choked on the coffee again. "No."

Damn it, Remy.

"I own my Dad's car. 67 Impala. It's pretty much the only thing I have from my family these days."

[knightinshinarmor]

"Ah." Remy nodded seriously. "I used to ride a Harley, myself. Definitely didn't live the kind of life where anyone could pass down a nice vehicle, though. You're lucky, oui?"

[single_man_tear]

"Yeah. Lucky," Dean said, "Really my life was on the road with my brother for the most part. And my dad. That car was the only thing we could call home most of the time."

Dean frowned for a second and shrugged it off. "So you're a motorcycle guy, then?"

[knightinshinarmor]

“Motorcycles, convertibles, getting flown around by beautiful women. . . . Anything that’s fast and puts the wind in my hair.”

[single_man_tear]

"Well I've done the first two," Dean replied with a laugh. "I have yet to do the third."

[knightinshinarmor]

“Ah, that’s a shame. It’s one of life’s great pleasures.”