WARUM IMMER KALT [miloooo!]

[Romy Tabea Brannen]

"Immer sehr kalt!" Romy Brannen swore, pulling a scarf more snugly around her large ears. Her slender, toned body was shivering and shuddering in the unending cold that seeped into every corner of the old mill. It was her home, of course, registered under her name. But it felt like nothing would ever rid her new safehouse free of the biting winter chill that froze her down to the bone. Always she was bundled in many layers, from woolen socks to underarmor to a number of scarves and hats protecting her sensitive and vulnerable ears. "When are we going to get some damn heat in here?" One might make the argument that Romy was the one responsible for the heating situation, but with what money was she supposed to accomplish this feat? She had barely enough to scrape by to pay the rent and other utilities for this place, especially having to update the property to suit the "team" as permanent residents. She had managed to avoid the questions the plumbers obviously wanted to shoot at her when they were asked to install showers in the place, but just through flaunting her exotic accent and batting her eyelashes did the men not bother to chase their curiosities. Working at the flower shop was certainly helpful, and getting in on taking unwanted shifts for her friends around the campus was necessary at times to continue purchasing groceries.

With an unflattering scowl pulling down at the corners of her mouth, the geokinetic began pulling out her labeled cutting boards, collecting the one for fish and the vegetable counterpart. A friend who owed her a favor had given her half a pound of salmon in exchange for having posed for an academically-saving photoshoot for a notorious procrastinator, and she was working on chopping up various vegetables and herbs and spices to sprinkle over and around the fish for a baked dish. Sitting on the table in the kitchen behind her was her laptop and two books she was already behind on reading for her Literature in Context class, both with bent spines and bookmarks hastily inserted between the pages to mark her place. She would be up late again playing catchup to be sure her recitation in the morning would go over smoothly. She had heard rumors of a possible quiz from a classmate or two, and that was just not something by which she hoped to be caught off guard. A cold, dark beer was beside her, the dry sides serving only to remind her of just how chilly it was. Thankfully, the oven would provide her with some semblance of warmth while she huddled up in some of the blankets toted from her bedroom and stuffed her nose in her books until the early hours of the morning. Of course, those books were stuffy and old, and nothing like the novels she hoped she would be reading. But they were required, and she had no room to fuss since her ultimate goal was, in fact, graduation.

Her long fingers worked nimbly over the vegetables, and chopped up the herbs finely as she sipped at her beer, letting the rich, robust flavors wash over her tongue. Screw the American drinking age; Germany had it right, and no one could tell her otherwise. She couldn't afford to become drunk, anyway; there was too much riding on getting work done that night. No going out for heroics, and no hangovers while trudging her way to the campus through the sludge and snow, tinged black and gray with the debris and filth that coated the city under even the best conditions. Fitness wasn't an issue, but the giantness of her ears allowing for escaping heat certainly was. So she would savor the hot meal in her belly and the nest of blankets and the space heater in her bedroom for the night, and then take refuge in the heated classrooms where she would have to fight off sleep.

[Milo Alphonsi]

Milo Alphonsi stood in front of the Old Mill with an odd look on his face. It was the face of someone who was trying and failing miserably to conceal his disgust and feeling of being underwhelmed.

"It's....uuheerm....nice," he said, teeth together, corners of his mouth pulled back a bit like he was trying to smile but was doing a rather terrible job at it. The place was...well, it wasn't where he'd expect Trinity to be living, that was for sure. However, it WAS the sort of place he supposed a bunch of vigilantes might squat out. Milo thought about how lucky he was that Trinity was trusting him with all this. He didn't have the best rep at this point, but he could always count on Trin. It was a big secret, but he'd keep it. He'd keep it if his damned life depended on it. Hopefully the others Trin had mentioned would like him too, let him on the team. It'd be good to do some good in the city he'd grown up in. He might not be the most likely to be a hero or anything, but maybe he could show some of those goddamned meta haters that they weren't all to be feared. Ha, could you just imagine? Milo, a big damn hero. Bet he could get some serious tail with those kinds of bragging rights. Heroes get the girls, right? except he'd have to keep his mask on...and go back to THEIR place, right? Keep the secret identity. Can't fall asleep after, gotta sneak out of the window. Whatever, he'd figure that out later.

[Trinity Daniels]

Trinity smiled kindly and beamed at the object of Milo's disgust. It was her home, her base and the place that would be changing everything. She chuckled lightly at Milo's attempt not to let her see how he really felt. He was failing. Badly. But that was okay. She appreciated that he was trying. He really was.

"It's not much. But it's a start, and it's home."

She pat him on the shoulder as he seemed to drift off into his own thoughts. She pulled the keys to the buidling from her sweater pocket and opened the doors. She gestured for Milo to follow her in as she called out to her housemate.

"Romy? Are you in?"

[Romy Tabea Brannen]

The vegetables were all chopped, and the fragrance of the herbs was filling the kitchen. The salmon was a perfect pink color. Everything was very nice. She might have been committing a terrible sin by pairing a sweet, malty bottle of Dunkles with fish, but this was far better than wine anyway. She was just putting the fish into the baking dish and sprinkling it with the chopped vegetables and herbs, as well as a pinch of brown sugar when she heard Trinity call out. "Ja,, I'm just making dinner," she replied. She put the Pyrex into the oven (something else that had contractors raising eyebrows), and made her way over to the banisters to peer down. There was another person with Trinity, which was curious. "Who's your friend?" Even from this distance, it was easy to see that he was broad and tall, towering over Trinity. . . . Not that this was a difficult feat to accomplish, but still worth noting. "I hope you don't expect me to feed you. Andre gave me some salmon for helping him out with one of his photoshoots, so you're on your own tonight. Especially if you have a guest. I'm honestly surprised that he was able to get me anything this soon--you know how terrible he is at having deadlines. Oh, and someone told me that there's an opening at a flower shop around campus, so I thought I might try to get it. Mutti always kept a nice garden, and we got to spend plenty of time working on it together, so I'm sure they'll like my knowledge of the silly things they mean."