epidemiology | ( closed ) one big happy family

[ it's day two or three or even four when olivia finally finds herself with enough time to pay a visit to her "dear brother" sigma... a few quick phonecalls and some... careful handling of directions later, and she is perched right before the apartment door, dusting off the few flakes of snow that had stubbornly clung to her coat and hair.

but just as she is about to lift her hand to knock, she pauses when some muffled sounds of... arguments? chaos?? arise from the wood.

she hesitates.

she'd only just spoken to sigma over the network less than half an hour ago, and it all seemed fine... was now no longer a good time?

ah well.

only one way to find out!

knock knock! ]

[ Is there ever a truly good time to visit this combination of individuals, that remains to be seen. ]

[ Anyway, in the time it had taken to give Olivia directions to their place, Giorno had been drawn out by the sinful aura of someone's crappy American coffee and had proceeded to take care of it in the most Jojo way possible. You know, lots of slapping and yelping and coffee everywhere. Floor, wall, clothes, it was borderline majestic. By the time Olivia shows up at the other side of the door, irate "I'm not cleaning that up"s devolve into resigned "if I didn't have company"s, and with her knock, finally shift down to little strings of swear words and "no no no, don't step in that"s. ]

[ So what ends up answering the door is a shirtless Sigma with a disgruntled Pepper under one arm and a towel in the other holding the door. ]

Hey! Sorry— [ At least Olivia's always easy to put a smile on for, even if it's a bit of a frazzled one. He steps back right away, invitingly. ] Come on in. Watch your step though, somebody spilled something in the hallway.

[ And although that comes out in the unmistakable The Cat Did It tone, it wasn't the cat this time. ]

[It wasn't the cat this time. It was this asshole. You can tell, because he's standing in the hallway just a little ways behind Sigma looking smug. To be more specific, he looks like someone who has meted out justice with his own hand; a hero, a visionary who is not appreciated in his own time, but who will be understood and much beloved by history.]

[Fuck your nasty-ass coffee.]

[He deigns to unfold his arms and wiggle his fingers at Olivia with a charming smile. Who, him?]

Buon giorno. It's nice to see you again. Don't mind the mess. We're being educated today.

[By we he means: just Sigma. Nobody else.]

I—

[ she doesn't get to say much before she's met with giorno's dazzling smile and sticky-sweet charm, such a stark contrast to the haggard mess that had greeted her just two seconds prior. she is torn between asking sigma if everything is alright and believing in giorno's smile that don't be silly of course everything is alright.

feeling a bit frazzled herself, she settles, instead, for turning to pepper, who squirms unhappily under sigma's arm. ]

Um. Sh-Should I hold her for you...?

[ Ramir is not immediately present; she's in the background, cackling on a couch in the living room. She'd had front row seating to the Coffee Debacle, but has since ended up sprawled over the back of the couch a little ways away. These things happen.

Nothing can pull her quite out of a laughing fit like the prospect of company, though. Shouted from the living room: ] Hey, who is it? Did I hear Olivia? Shit, bring her in!

[ Do they have dinner ready for guests? Do they have anything besides pizza in the house? Oh god, what time even is it? Ramir finds herself with a lot of questions today. ]

[ Before Olivia can stutter much else out, Sigma rounds on the boy perched over his kill like a shitty little blond vulture. You know, if vultures ever killed for sport. A lion killing a hyena would probably be a better metaphor here, but this kid doesn't deserve association with that noble lion imagery. In fact, better yet, he's the poacher that gets the lion after. Such a cruel, pointless slaughter of his poor defenseless coffee... ]

You got an opinion that's different than mine, you cannoli! That's not education, that's tyranny!

[ Fortunately before he can get his verbal claws any deeper into Giorno (and fortunately before Pepper can get her physical ones into him) the cat nearly wriggles free, and he props the door open with a foot to swoop in his other arm to catch her. A very cat-person smooth maneuver. ]

If you don't mind, sorry.

[ After dumping Pepper carefully into Olivia's arms and waving her inside to close the door behind her, he turns back to the crime scene and drops the towel at the heart of it before stooping down proper to mop up the mess. Grabbing the empty paper coffee cup, he snaps the lid back onto it and chucks it at Giorno. ]

At least go throw this out if you hate it that much!

[Ominously, from the direction of the kitchen:] I've come to the understanding that a mess has been made in the process of disposing of some garbage. [Here's the mystery: is he more annoyed about bad coffee, or the fact that it's been slapped onto the floor? Who knows.] I sincerely hope it's being cleaned up while I put this meal together, because I'm sure we have very hungry neighbors.

[Dinner is ... in the process. Good food takes time, okay. Time and patience and a great deal of chopping, given that Fugo disappeared a while ago with a bag of vegetables and chicken and hasn't come out yet. Fugo is not above holding it for hostage, even when faced with guests that he was not expecting and is now worrying about having enough chicken over.]

[ who chloroformed the janitor... ]

Oh, um — d-do you need help preparing...?

[ she is speaking, of course, to fugo, inching closer and closer to where she had heard the voice (the calmest one she has heard thus far, and thus the one she finds herself drawn to in a wild moment of self-preservation). pepper seems, for the moment, settled in her arms, though it probably helps that she hasn't stopped scratching the cat behind her ears since the transfer occurred. ]

[The kitchen is ... actually, it's very organized. Fugo himself is standing in front of the stove, hair held back from his face with a headband and hairtie that were both stolen from Giorno, sprinkling some spices and seasonings into a pot of tomato sauce; set aside on the counter are some chicken breasts, an egg and milk mixture, and some breadcrumbs and, a little further, a covered bowl of pasta dough that will be cut once the chicken's in the oven. Everything is surprisingly spick and span, because Fugo is the sort to wash dishes as he makes them when cooking.]

What? [Although he was frowning sharply down at his sauce, when Fugo hears Olivia's voice and turns to look at her his expression quickly shifts to something more nervous and sheepish than annoyed.] Oh. Hello. Olivia, right? [He fingers fiddle with the wooden spoon he's using to stir with, then turns back to his sauce.] Er, if you'd like? [He pauses, and then clarifies:] I'm not really going to give it to the neighbors, if that's what you were worried about. It's just that Giorno and Sigma have the energy to argue about this sort of thing into perpetuity and Ramir lets them because she thinks it's funny.

[HE ONLY HAS ... so many hands.]

[Giorno is an unbelievably graceful individual. The only reason the tossed coffee cup almost hits him is because he hesitates, torn between two incredibly appealing options: continuing to bother Sigma, or following Olivia into the kitchen to bother Fugo.]

[At the last second, he decides on the slightly funnier second choice (because fucking with Sigma is only funny until he has to clean up the aftermath), dodges the flung cup, and follows Olivia into the kitchen, shooting both her and Fugo a sunny smile.]

It is funny. I did stop arguing, though. Aren't you proud of me?

[Guess who's helpfully going to start getting dishes down to set the table with? This guy. What a great roommate!]

( closed ) one big happy family

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