wasting space - callen!

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha propped his arms up on the counter, letting out a loud sigh. The shop was empty; he had sent all of his lackeys- well, employees, he remembered belatedly, they didn't take too well to being called lackeys- home because it was a quiet night and it was much too hot out. Misha guessed that they thought the term "lackey" was more derogatory than affectionate. Ah well, c'est la vie. It was their loss if they didn't want cool t-shirts with "LACKEY" spelled out across the front with a piece of pizza and "MISHA'S PIZZERIA" on the back. He knew that he would wear such an awesome t-shirt.

The day had been almost unbearably hot, if not for the air conditioning, and even then, Misha was still sweating. Being in a kitchen for most of the day where food was being baked tended to make said kitchen very hot. He was happy that he had invested in a few fans, though. They created a nice breeze that swept hair off the back of his neck and made everything less like a sweatshop and more like the reputable (semi-reputable) pizza-selling business that Misha's Pizzeria was. He slid a hand through his hair, smoothing back messy tufts, and then bent over to the icebox.

"Now this is the life," Misha muttered to himself as he picked out an ice-cold Coke from the literal cardboard box of ice (lined with tin foil to keep the cardboard from melting). He had spent so much of his funds on fans and cool Doctor Who posters that buying another freezer or something was impossible. Misha exhaled in disgust at the current cost of running a business, but all tension was melted away by the blast of sugary soda. "Coca Cola, you'll always be my number one." Misha winked and pointed a finger gun at the can in his hand before pressing the cold metal to his face.

It was a good night, despite the heat. It was Misha, a can of half-frozen Coke, some leftover breadsticks that he had scrounged out of an unsent box, and then his cat jumped up onto the counter. Misha grinned, putting down the breadstick he was nibbling on to pet his cat. It was a giant orange creature with amber eyes, named Domino. It was supposed to be ironic, as Domino was one of his main competitors. Misha thought it was funny. Domino purred and rubbed his head into Misha's hand as he took another long draught of his soda. Reaching over, Misha clicked the radio on, deciding that he might as well get his singing entertainment done.

To his delight, it was Katy Perry. Misha's obsession with pop music was a little bit more intense than what most people would like to admit, but he found no qualms with howling along to the radio (even if it made Domino hiss at him). Katy Perry was especially fun to sing to if none of his... employees (not lackeys, Misha reminded himself with an eyeroll. Maybe they'd respond to subordinates?) were there to stare at the twenty-five year old as he sang (hideously off-key, if he wasn't trying) with the pop star.

"Baby, you're a fi-i-irework!" he sang, tapping his hands against the counter and ignoring the way that Domino's ears flattened. The lyrics turned to half mumbles as Misha didn't really know all the lyrics, except to the chorus, but he picked up enthusiastically at the next part. "Come on, let your co-olors burst!" he slammed a hand down near Domino, who jumped back and hissed at Misha.

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words; 621
muse; totally katy perry.
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, apron, jeans.
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[CALLEN MICHAEL O'CONNOR]

LOOK AT US LOOK AT US WE'LL TAKE THE WHOLE WORLD BY SURPRISE MILLION DOLLAR MIND
SET IN PLACE YOU CAN SEE IT IN OUR EYES EVERYTHING HERE

Callen had spent the day outside, in the back, with his shirt off, tending to the plants. It had been hot, sweaty work, and with no fan or anything of the sort, it had been disgusting to say the least. He'd tried to get up early, when the sun wasn't up yet and it wouldn't be too hot, but that failed on account of him waking up at ten and not getting outside until eleven. It hadn't been smart. He could've even waited until after two, when the sun wouldn't have been as high in the sky and it would've been a bit cooler as the day wound it's way down and the sun traveled to another part of the world. That would've been pretty smart. Then again, Callen wasn't the smartest cookie in the jar, and so he'd gone out in the hottest part of the day and got himself a nice, dark tan and some aching-from-exposure skin. The shop had been freezing when he walked in, but he hadn't stayed long, letting one of the ex's who was working the register that he'd be going upstairs to shower and then heading out.

The cold water had felt fantastic, and he got dressed quickly. It was late in the day, almost night really, and he didn't feel like waiting until Dmitri was doing whatever it was that Dmitris did when they weren't around Callens for entertainment, and he knew that Bay had been out with friends the entire day. He really didn't have friends. His friends were his family, and when they were bored, he had nothing else to do. Sure he had some of the ex-CIA that he did consider friends, but they all had their own lives, other friends and jobs, or they didn't really get out much, wanting to stay in their apartments and be by themselves. Either way, it meant that when Callen had no work to be done or the Greys were busy, he had to amuse himself. Which usually didn't end well, because Callen was not only a trouble maker, but a trouble magnet. The two didn't exactly get along with each other, and that meant that he found himself in quite a few awkward or bad situations from time to time.

His stomach grumbled as soon as his shades were on and he was out the door, and so he decided to head to the pizza place right across from the shop. He knew that they made amazing pizza, if only because they'd gotten deliveries from them more times than any of them would like to admit. He knew that, on the nights that Dmitri was busy, he and Bay would order pizza and be lazy, when she didn't have other things to do. Callen's position on the couch in front of the TV with a slice of pizza had been something that had been his since their living arrangement had been sorted out seven years ago. That being said, he'd never actually been in the shop. As soon as he walked in, off-key singing to some annoying pop song came slamming into him. He took off his shades and hung them on his pocket, raising an eyebrow. Well, if this wasn't amusing, he didn't know what was. There was almost no one else in the shop, just a few employees and the man himself that was singing. A cat was wandering around, too, and he had to with-hold a laugh. How did they get an A on the door for state of service? Maybe for being quirky? He went up to the counter, and tried not to laugh at the sight. "Can I get three slices of meat lover's and a can of coke?"

T A G G E D ? ! misha!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! six fifty five
M U S E ? ! he's here~
N O T E S ? ! wooo epic bromance is a-go
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to DEVIL TOWN. of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to the ready set with the song young forever.

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha heard the bell signifying that someone was coming into the shop ring. He had wanted to get a motion-triggered gnome that waved a light saber, but it was too expensive, and he had wanted the Yoda one where all they sold was the Luke Skywalker one. That had been a disappointment. Still, Misha brightened a little at the promise of customers and money, because he could then go trawling on eBay to find the Yoda gnome and or actually buy more ingredients, a new freezer, pay the rent, etc.

...he decided on buying the gnome, personally, but rent was up there. Misha was an adult.

Misha didn't stop singing even as the man walked up to him. It was his store, his rules, or something equating to that. It didn't even matter, though, Misha wouldn't have stopped singing if he was in the other man's apartment. I don't know why I'd be in his apartment, except to give him pizza, but... The possibility was still there. Katy Perry was catchy and fun to sing to, and he wasn't going to give up that particular joy just because of his subordinates and his customer. He made the best pizza this side of New York, dammit! Just because he liked singing to a bi-curious Californian pop-star didn't make him a lesser man, or made his pizza any worse. In fact, he should make a Katy Perry pizza, with pink food dye and pineapple. It would sell so well-

He registered that the man was asking him for three slices of pizza, his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile. He had a sort of strong presence about him, someone who knew how to have fun (judging from the way he was distinctly not smiling even though his eyes were trying to- Misha felt like he was writing bad fanfiction, or something, when he thought that) but also knew how to throw his weight around a little. The Force is strong in this one, he thought gleefully.

"Only if you sing with me," Misha said brightly, smiling. "Your voice sounds familiar. Did you buy pizza here before? Good, good, I love return customers." he reached under the counter and pulled up another Coke from the slightly melty ice box, sliding it towards Force-man. "Three slices? What an odd number. Although, the meat-lover's is pretty awesome, if I say so- hey, see what I did there, man? Three is an odd number."

Someone had told him that he seemed stoned, once. Unless the person meant pizza stone, they were wrong. Even if marijuana was one of Mother Nature's gifts (a hippie mother who lived in a commune most of her life reassured him of this), Misha wasn't smoking anything (a businessman father who was currently dying of lung cancer assured him of that). Sometimes, Misha wondered why he had turned out so normal from such a dysfunctional family.

Thoughts aside, Misha called back to the kitchen to get him three slices of the chosen pizza before remembering that he was the only person left in the kitchen. "Awkward..." he sing-songed before sidling into the room and collecting the three slices to give the man. "So, yeah. Three slices?" he made a questioning sound akin to Domino's meow as the cat jumped up on the counter again to rub his head against the new man's hand.

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words; 583
muse; the bromance will be fabulous.
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, apron, jeans.
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[CALLEN MICHAEL O'CONNOR]

LOOK AT US LOOK AT US WE'LL TAKE THE WHOLE WORLD BY SURPRISE MILLION DOLLAR MIND
SET IN PLACE YOU CAN SEE IT IN OUR EYES EVERYTHING HERE

The guy seemed quirky. Callen could tell that from the minute that he walked into the shop. He had a cat, and Callen was an animal person, so that was just a set of brownie points towards whatever his name was. He raised an eyebrow at the man's fast paced talking. He seemed like the naturally hyper type, as well. Callen wasn't the best at reading people, something that was a disadvantage most of the time, but he got a certain vibe from the guy. That was a good thing, when it came to the person that made his food on more than a one time basis. It was a good thing he wasn't too picky - the man didn't look too sane, but that didn't say anything about his food, did it? "I won't be singing with you. My voice is crap. My friends, however, will be dragged over at some point, and they'll sing with you." He said easily. Dmitri and Bay had talent, right? They could use it to get them coupons, that would work out nicely. He nodded when asked if he was a return customer. "I work over at the Flower Bay - across the street? My friend owns the place, and I work there. And we live in the apartment building above. So yeah, we're definitely regular returns." It was easy when he felt lazy to just order pizza, instead of figuring out how to work the microwave. He stole food from the Greys all the time, but Dmitri also got busy, and even though Bay could fend for herself, he really couldn't. He'd also been banned from touching the stove, so that was also a downer.

He was a talker. Definitely. Callen could feel himself becoming more and more amused. It was more like he saw a ton of himself in this pizza dude, and that was rare. Most people weren't like Callen - they didn't interject humor into their every thought, they didn't bounce around like they were hyper all the time, they weren't positive almost twenty-four/seven. Most people were normal, with a normal range of emotions, and normal ... everything. They had their ups and downs. Callen had ups, because his downs weren't something that he tolerated. He forced himself out of downs, because his downs were rock-bottoms. He pushed his thoughts away, focusing again quickly. "Three because two isn't enough and four's too many," he said simply, with a chuckle. When he called out to an empty kitchen, Callen couldn't help but laugh. He was so eccentric. "To stay, thanks. Not like I've got anywhere to go." When the cat hopped up, he raised an eyebrow. It pushed it's head against Callen's hand, and Callen couldn't help but grin and scratch at it's ears. "Aren't you a handsome little cat, huh boy? What's your name?" Callen had always been an animal person. Sometimes, people liked cats and not dogs, and sometimes, it was the other way around. Callen, however, liked all animals. He looked up to the pizza man, and asked him instead. "You've got a beautiful cat. He got a name?" He asked, knowing that he'd get an actual answer from the man instead of the cat, that obviously couldn't speak English.

T A G G E D ? ! misha!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! five seventy
M U S E ? ! is burnt out like misha's pizzas would never be
N O T E S ? ! it will be, i'm already in love with them, guh
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to DEVIL TOWN. of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to the ready set with the song young forever.

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha let a half-smile cross his face as he hummed out a few more bars of Katy Perry, not caring (or noticing, really) how wonky that made his face look as his brow furrowed a bit. "Don't be intimidated by my soprano! The kids at my high-school choir always were. It's not good to want something that you can't have. Someone famous once said that," Misha said solemnly, wagging a finger in his customer's face. He was glad that he could slip some form of advice into their conversation. Customer service was definitely Misha's thing (never mind those few ladies who had gone running out of his "office" as soon as he had introduced them to Domino and his Captain Kirk figurine- that was just rude, he thought a bit indignantly). "It depends, though. I need an Eminem for my Rihanna, though. Any of your friends good at rapping?"

The pizza-man didn't wait for another answer, nodding as the man told him where he lived. "You do order pizza a lot! You have some seriously sketchy people over there, though..." Misha remembered a woman with dark hair and an Irish accent who had glared at him and told him to do an anatomically impossible thing when he offered her coupons. I should have gotten Domino to go over there, no one can resist his charm! Misha did his best evil laugh, not keeping it internalized before realizing that he still had a customer. If he was anyone else, he would be a bit embarrassed, but he was Misha Merritt, and he was not thrown off by his mildly terrifying evil laugh.

"That took a lot of practice, actually, and a lot of Youtube tutorials," Misha offered as an explanation, shrugging. If the man didn't understand that one had to practice an evil laugh, he would ask for an email address and show him all of the videos. To perfect an evil laugh was a skill that one needed to run a pizza business. Well, maybe not to run a pizza business, but for the amount of nerds who came in to ask for Legend of Zelda walkthroughs and cheat codes? It was totally necessary.

The man explained why he wanted three slices of the pizza, and Misha shrugged, inclining his head. It did make sense. "Usually, people either go for one slice," he gestured to one side of the counter, "Or an entire pizza." he swept his other arm out to the other side, narrowly avoiding hitting Domino with the gesture. Misha grabbed a tray, a napkin and some paper plates to settle the pizza on, plonking it down in front of the man. He had to grin a little at his words to Domino, deciding that if he was a cat person, he couldn't be too bad. Never mind the fact that Ted Bundy might have been a cat person, in retrospect. Misha wasn't sure of it, though, so he didn't have to acknowledge that it was true.

"That'll be eight oh three," he chirped brightly, but eyed the way that Domino was attaching himself to Mr. Force-man's sleeve. Don't go dark side on me, Domi. "His name is Domino, like the pizza place who sells inferior food. It's ironic, because Domino is the best cat ever."

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words; 572
muse; my brotp. so perfect it's painful. and meg made a cameo. ;3
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[CALLEN MICHAEL O'CONNOR]

LOOK AT US LOOK AT US WE'LL TAKE THE WHOLE WORLD BY SURPRISE MILLION DOLLAR MIND
SET IN PLACE YOU CAN SEE IT IN OUR EYES EVERYTHING HERE

"You were in choir in high school? I can picture that, actually." He said, raising an eyebrow. This guy was certainly something. He knew that back at his old high school, no guys had been in choir. Choir had been a girl thing. Guys had gotten into sports, or nothing at all. There had been things like chess club, but a lot of people didn't go after their interests just because of the large bully population at the school. "Some famous person, right, yeah," Callen said, and couldn't help the chuckle that burst out. When he asked if either of his friends could rap, Cal bit down on his tongue. "Nope, sorry I couldn't be more of a help," he said, semi-sarcastically. He didn't know what to make of the guy. Either way, he was entertaining, that much Cal could say.

Callen snorted. "Sketchy? More like special. Wrong 'S'." Callen answered easily. He couldn't help but ask. "Did any of them threaten you? Everyone in our building's pretty nice, unless you rub them the wrong way," he said. That was true, for the most part. He wondered who'd come over to the pizza shop to make the man think such a thing. He wouldn't ask for specifics, however. He didn't really want to know. It was their business how they treated other people. Callen could do a lot of things, and he did, but baby sitting was not one of them. Especially when it came to their behavior in public establishments. He almost felt sorry for the staff of Misha's Pizzeria, because he knew that they could be a handful sometimes, and being right across from the Flower Bay wasn't exactly prime placement. Though a lot of them didn't cook, so they did make money. It was a fair trade, he guessed, though most small businesses in the city were. They all made it work. When the man let out an evil laugh, Callen almost choked on the soda that he'd opened and had taken a sip of. He hadn't been expecting that, and he coughed a bit before he was able to breathe. "You'd think you'd want to keep around returning customers," he was able to get out before taking another deep breath.

Callen nodded, and shrugged. "I'm not a usual person, if that helps." When the man gave him a price, he nodded and pulled out his wallet, handing him his credit card. The pizza smelled delicious, and Callen could feel his stomach growling. He'd waited way too long to eat, and the fact that it was pizza, one of his favorite foods - he was too American for his own food really, pizza, apple pie, and baseball were some of his favorite things - didn't help to keep his stomach waiting. The cat kept his attention at bay, however, because it really seemed to like him. At the name pun, Callen couldn't help but chuckle. "Very nice name choice. Hello, Domino. You're a real handsome cat," he said, scratching him behind the ears. "I'm sure you have the ladies all over you." He grinned as Domino nuzzled against his hand. The cat was too cute for his own good, and he won over Callen's heart easily.

T A G G E D ? ! misha!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! five sixty one
M U S E ? ! he's here because pizza
N O T E S ? ! isn't it though xD
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to DEVIL TOWN. of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to the ready set with the song young forever.

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

"Nope, I just hung out at all of their practices," Misha smiled a bit. "I sang with them at concerts, too, backstage. I don't think the choir teacher liked that..." his smile faded a little, but then he shrugged. His high school years had actually been fairly interesting to him, in the least. Usually people were a little bit too put off by his disarming charm (he liked to think of himself a bit of a ladykiller. At the end of senior year, he'd had two girls following him around constantly in full Sailor Moon cosplay, and one of them had tried her hardest to make out with him. He counted that as a conquest.) crossed with his nerdiness, and gave him space. Misha wasn't exactly complaining, of course. It didn't hurt that he was also best friends with the quarterback on the football team, and that generally made bullies leave him alone.

"Drat. If you meet a rapper, send him this way. Or throw him out." Misha laughed at his own pun, practically falling over. What? He really liked puns. It was a fatal flaw (he was sure that there was pun material in that phrase, but he didn't spend too much time thinking about it). It depressed him that even in college, he couldn't find anyone who had a similar love of corny jokes. Maybe it was because I went to engineering school. Misha sighed a little, wiping at the corner of his eye.

His customer asked him if he had been threatened by any of the people in the apartment, and he shrugged. "I haven't been wronged by anyone, Batman. You don't need to protect Gotham," he grinned easily. "I think the woman was just having a bad day. She looked like she was getting sunburn." Misha tanned pretty well, and he sometimes carried an ancient parasol he had gotten at an antique store if it got sunny enough, much to many of his college friends and fellow New Yorkers' horrors. He didn't care, it was much more classy than holding an umbrella, and he had gotten the attention (and business) from a few members of the steampunk community.

Misha tilted his head as the man choked on his soda because of his evil laugh. He didn't think it was that scary, especially to the Jedi (he was going to think of him as Force-man or Luke Skywalker until he got a name, and even after that, Misha thought that it was a good nickname) man. "Most of the returning customers maintain a safe distance. I think that they think I bite."

He swiped his credit card and handed it back to the man, pushing the tray of pizza closer to him without managing to knock it over. That had been a delicate afternoon, learning how to maneuver the trays that he used. Misha never used styrofoam, having been subject to at least a hundred lectures about how terrible the substance was, and reusable trays were cheaper, in the end. The only issue he had was the plates, which sometimes got soggy with pizza grease. Even if the pizza wasn't the greasiest (Misha prided himself on quality ingredients, some of which were actually grown in the apartment above- but he didn't say anything, because most people assumed that if he grew herbs, he grew pot, and he didn't want a drug war in his pizzeria), there was always some grease from the cheese.

Domino was definitely going dark side on him, he decided. "Unfortunately," he said a bit dryly in response to the man's cooing to his cat. "I swear, that cat is the Captain Kirk of the starship Pizzeria." Domino was now letting out engine-like rumbles, insistently pawing at the other man. Misha was a little bit psyched out. Domino loved most people, but he didn't usually stick to them like this. "You sure you don't have, like, catnip, or maybe drugs in your pocket? Domi could be a police cat." he said a bit thoughtfully. "You do drugs?"

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words; 694
muse; I don't even. Oh my God, Misha, you can't just ask people if they do drugs. :3
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[CALLEN MICHAEL O'CONNOR]

LOOK AT US LOOK AT US WE'LL TAKE THE WHOLE WORLD BY SURPRISE MILLION DOLLAR MIND
SET IN PLACE YOU CAN SEE IT IN OUR EYES EVERYTHING HERE

Callen snorted. He looked like the type of guy to do whatever he wanted, and then deal with the consequences later. Then again, wasn't that exactly who Callen was, as well? Just, in a different sense. He only did it when he had to. Civilians didn't have the same types of risks pressing at them. He wondered if sometimes, they made bad decisions, or decisions that Cal himself wouldn't make, just to spice their lives up a little. Not that the man in front of him needed to spice his life up it seemed, pun intended. "You're a persistent type, I'm guessing?" He didn't really need to guess, however. It was written all over his face, though Callen wouldn't say that. He picked up things that regular people didn't notice, which he usually kept to himself. He knew what to bring up in conversation, and what not to. This guy, however, through him for a loop. When he cracked a pun on 'rapper', Callen couldn't help but laugh. "Wise guy too, huh?" Cal could appreciate that. He was usually the one that kept things light and airy over at the Flower Bay, the one that brought the sunshine in through dusty windows, and this time around, he was the one laughing at someone else's joke. It almost felt weird in a way, because he wasn't used to genuinely laughing at something coming from someone he didn't really know, but he didn't think on it too hard. If he thought on simple things like that too hard, he didn't know what he'd do about things that were way more complicated.

Cal raised an eyebrow at the Batman reference. So he basically pulled out references from everywhere, and Callen didn't get all of them. That was perfectly fine. He just didn't expect it. He'd never run into a quirky civilian before, but maybe that was because he'd never had the time to before? He was sure that he'd run into one, maybe even 'befriended' one, before he'd joined the CIA. But then again, that wouldn't have registered in his non-CIA brain. They would've been just another person at that point. Now, his brain sorted people into groups. He tried to prevent it from happening, but it was pretty much inevitable. He wondered if that happened to any of the others, Dmitri even, but he wouldn't be bringing it up. He didn't need to know that badly. When he mentioned the word sunburn, Callen let out a bark of laughter. "That would be Meg. She's, uh ... she was experiencing an Irish problem, let's leave it at that." He said. He remembered them talking about the very same thing the other day, sunburn and redheads and general Irish things, when he'd been bored out of his mind on a hot, slow day in the shop. He was surprised that she'd ventured out, however, but maybe that had been before they had talked. He wondered if a basket full of sunscreen would be more appreciated than a muffin basket on her birthday. He'd think it over.

"I think that, if you do bite, you have your rabies shots. So I don't mind." He said with a shrug. "I'm a bit too seemingly non-threatening for my own good, so we're polar opposites in that department," he said easily. People thought that he looked like a nice person. He was approachable, he was a people person, an extrovert. He shined in social situations, finding them more fun than to be an actual problem as some of the ex-CIA did. Then again, there were introverts and there were extroverts, and everyone was different in their own way, as well. He took his card back when it was handed to him, as well as his receipt, and picked up his tray. He didn't even notice it when both eyebrows went up at the man's question. "Blunt, are you?" He said. He then smirked. "Well, since I'm in the presence of a possible police cat, I think I'm pleading the fifth on this one."

T A G G E D ? ! misha!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! seven fourteen
M U S E ? ! front and center, sergeant
N O T E S ? ! cal's answer wasn't any better than the question so i think we should strike it from the record before domi the police cat decides to get trigger happy with the hand cuffs
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to DEVIL TOWN. of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to the ready set with the song young forever.

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha, despite his oddities, was never one to put himself in danger. He wasn't stupid, and he wasn't exactly confident of his ability to stay up in a fight (unless it was Wii boxing, or something, in which case, Misha was very confident in his ability to throw a knockout). His more pacifistic nature kept him from fights, as well. He had to admit, though, he had made a few decisions that he probably shouldn't have and knew it. He had no real regrets about them, though- regrets just ate away at his psyche and ruined his meditations.

Well, figurative meditations. His mother had told him that in order to be successful, a fifteen minute daily meditation was key. Misha thought that it was a good idea, especially considering his ability to be bouncing up and down with energy every minute of every day, a good way to calm himself. It didn't exactly work like that, and became more of a struggle of willpower to keep himself seated and not running back and forth to do things.

Misha took what he got. It was close enough to meditation.

He nodded at the Jedi customer. "It's one of the reasons I'm technically a salesman. Keep doing something long enough, and everyone eventually has to tolerate it!" he grinned a bit. "By senior year, I was acknowledged for my soprano. It was a beautiful moment." He chose not to add that right after the music teacher had proclaimed "Gerard Merritt" as the source of the lovely voice in the back of the room, he had taken a bow before storming out because his name was Misha. That was an unnecessary detail. Besides, no one knew that his name was actually Gerard, and he would prefer to keep it that way.

"Like Yoda, wise guy am I." Misha put his hands together and bowed. He never got bored of the references he could make. It was one of the things that he actually enjoyed about talking to people, seeing how many pop culture references he could fit into a conversation. It was equally fun to see people get confused, or even better, actually get the references. He had gotten through an entire conversation in college, once, with a woman with both of them using Britney Spears lyrics to converse. Good days...

"Should I send some complimentary aloe vera over with the next pizza?" Misha asked, arching an eyebrow. He felt bad for her, even if she was mildly terrifying. Sunburn was not fun for anyone. Misha didn't really get burned (but then again, he wasn't known for going outside, either. His computer-glare pale skin was a mark of his trade), but he remembered the few times he had been, and it wasn't pleasant. "Because I totally have an aloe vera plant upstairs."

Misha smiled at the rabies shot quip. "Don't worry, I'm worm-and-flea free, too." Misha wasn't quiet, by any means, not at all, and he loved talking to people, but it seemed that his exuberance and pop culture references (and subsequent awful puns) scared some people off. He wasn't intimidating as much as overwhelming- although, as proved, his evil laugh could be a bit eye-opening. Maybe I should be a vampire for Halloween. Scream and hang up the phone if anyone orders garlic on their pizza. "Too non-threatening? Ooh, you really are Batman! Except, I don't think Bruce Wayne worked with flowers..." Misha offered him a shrug.

"Well, Mr. Druggie Batman, do I get a name? I'm Misha, by the way. Cheesed to meet you!" Misha did a drum roll on the counter, laughing at his pun. For some reason, he didn't want their conversation to end so soon. The guy seemed pretty interesting, even if he was Batman with a possible drug addiction. And he apparently liked pizza. Misha wasn't complaining, if Batman liked pizza, because that meant that he could brag that Batman ate his pizza. That was always a cool story.

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words; 693
muse; Misha is going to be convinced that Callen is Batman, now.
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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[CALLEN MICHAEL O'CONNOR]

LOOK AT US LOOK AT US WE'LL TAKE THE WHOLE WORLD BY SURPRISE MILLION DOLLAR MIND
SET IN PLACE YOU CAN SEE IT IN OUR EYES EVERYTHING HERE

Callen was always all over the place. It was part of his charm, really. He had to force himself to stay still, to be charming if he so wished, or do whatever it was that normal people did. He was someone that was naturally going in way too many directions at one time, and that normally got him into trouble. When it came to doing the right thing and doing the wrong thing, usually Callen was the one making the stupid choice. At least, that's what most people thought. When Callen needed to be, he was level headed. When Cal needed to be, he did the right thing. However, when none of that was needed, he did as he pleased, whether that was impulsive or not. He was a planner, but that didn't mean that he let the fact that his brain was usually ten steps ahead of wherever he was at that very moment keep him from doing something exciting, even stupidly fun. Most days, he turned his brain off. More like it turned itself off, but Callen liked the illusion of control. After all, who could say that they let their own mind run away from them? He zeroed in on the guy in front of him for a moment, and figured that he was one of those kinds of people, though he didn't say that out loud since that would probably be really offensive, and Callen didn't have it in him to be offensive in any way.

"Sounds kosher," Cal shrugged. As long as it worked for him. When he proclaimed that it was a beautiful moment, the younger man had to hold in a snicker. He couldn't help it, really, but he wasn't mean. Obviously, it meant something to him, and he wouldn't mess with that. He knew how much singing meant to Bay, and by extension Dmitri - maybe it was the other way around? He didn't know, keeping track of the Grey siblings and their many talents was really difficult, and Callen didn't have the mind for it. Never had, never would; especially when what they could do kept growing. He thought of them as a circus, really, not that he'd ever tell them that - and so maybe it applied to this man too. He didn't really know about creative types, even though he'd been around Bay for years. More like he did what he could, and she took it easy on him. Amen for that, really.

"You have an aloe vera plant, upstairs? Do I want to know why you have an aloe vera plant upstairs?" Callen asked, and then figured out after he asked that he probably did not want to know. It was probably less traumatizing if he didn't know, really, since this guy was way too hyper anyway, and he probably did some very wacky things, wacky things that Callen didn't want to think about, or even consider really, knowing the way that his mind worked, and what his imagination could come up with. "That's good to know." He said. He raised an eyebrow at the Batman reference, and then paused. "... You think I'm Batman? I don't know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment." He said, with a raised eyebrow. "And hey, maybe he did. No one really wants to admit that they work with flowers, do they?" Well, most people didn't. Then there was Dmitri. And him, by extension. He'd been desensitized to the fact that yes, he in fact did work in a shop called the Flower Bay - but then again, he loved the play on Bay's name, so it'd been a quick acceptance. Plus, he liked the fact that Dmitri liked what he was doing, so he'd put in grunt work to see his best friend smile once in a while. "Mr. Druggie Batman - can't we just stick with that? Misha, though ... odd name. Mine is too. Callen, at your service," he saluted almost sarcastically. He bit down on his tongue to cover the snort that almost popped out. "Pizza puns? I guess owning a pizza place does give you a lot of material ... and a lot of time to think them up."

T A G G E D ? ! misha!
W O R D C O U N T ? ! seven twenty two
M U S E ? ! eh
N O T E S ? ! i love how this escalated to the point where misha thinks that callen is batman, lord help us all. also, this post became like, the king of run-on sentences. i don't know, don't judge me. xD
C R E D I T ? ! graphic credit goes to DEVIL TOWN. of caution two point oh. lyric credit goes to the ready set with the song young forever.

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

"Mm." Misha was quiet for a moment, surprisingly so as his eyes glazed over a little in nostalgic memories. Well, not quite nostalgic as much as painful- Misha's high school years definitely weren't his golden days. He was weird, his skin almost glowed due to paleness, he talked to everyone even if they were "out of his league" romantically or platonically, and he used words bigger than three syllables. Misha was basically the typical nerd, but he'd somehow managed to defy stereotypes (and invoke fear and therefore some bullying) with his "insouciant yet pithy quips", according to one of his friends. He didn't understand if that was a good thing or not, and he didn't picture himself as being particularly insouciant or pithy, but he'd take what he could get. Misha genuinely liked people, and he considered it a pity if he couldn't make at least one new friend every week or so. Friends were cool. Friends let him call them "minions", friends bought his pizza (even the combos that he gave out on discount to test), friends would stay up all night to watch the Dark Knight trilogy three times in a row, friends would take pictures of Domino and put insouciant but pithy captions under them to upload to Lolcats, friends would put on elaborate ruses where they'd imitate soap opera in drag- well, maybe not, but he could hope. Drag seemed oddly liberating, and soap operas amused Misha. Jerking himself back to the present, Misha smiled at his customer. "Kosher as bagels."

He tilted his head to the side, a little bit confused before shrugging again. "For sunburn, dry skin, that annoying persistent itch when you walk through something glowy that looks like it came from a pipe in Jersey... you know, aloe vera. Works for everything." he deliberated for a second. "Maybe not pizza, although I haven't tried. Hey, is aloe vera edible?"

Misha thought that he had a new idea for a combo, if so. The dough was really going to roll in... pun intended.

"Take it as a compliment," the salesman said, voice going gravelly as he did his best Batman impression before coughing and taking a sip of his Coke. It was still cold. He thanked God for pseudo-freezers that kept soda cold even if they weren't legitimate freezers. He also thanked Satan for not making it leak. He didn't need another mess to clean up, let alone cold water and melted cardboard. That was not a fun combination, and then, he'd have to go Dumpster diving for another suitable box to keep the rest of the sodas icy cold. Customers. So picky. Misha rolled his eyes minutely. "Bruce Wayne? Nah. Although it would be funny if Marvel did that. Flowerman." he giggled for a few seconds before shrugging again. "Bats eat flowers, I think, so it sorta makes sense."

The man introduced himself, and Misha was already rolling out possible nicknames for him in the back of his head. It was customary for him to assign people he liked nicknames, and even though Mr. Druggie Batman Skywalker had a certain ring to it, it was much too long for him to write on pizza boxes, and the Force was not with Misha at this point, so he couldn't do any cool Jedi mind tricks. Callen... hm. Cal... Calzone! Misha resisted the urge to slam his hand down on the counter and yell "Eureka", but just grinned again. "Nice t'meetcha, Callen. Yeah, I get a lot of thyme, it's awesome, but some people say that my puns are crust wrong. Oh, I'm on a roll, today! I even have a punny nickname for you, Cal-zone!" Misha finally snorted, doubling over with laughter after his deadpan puns. He always found himself to be hilarious when he managed to keep a straight face and go off on a list of puns. Others, such as his last girlfriend, did not. Their loss.

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words; 682
muse; Misha and his puns. Oh my.
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, apron, jeans.
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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