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Otto happens to like cinnamon as an additional spice in baking, which earns the pancakes some brownie points and ensures the flatness is overlooked. Yep, he's going to enjoy this breakfast very much. The question doesn't quite register until he sees just what it is that Norman's looking at.

"Ah, no. It's a bit embarrassing, actually," he admits, smiling sheepishly. "When I was still a merperson, I kept pocketing things that caught my eye without really thinking about it. Rocks, coins, bits of metal... Nothing that belonged to someone else, of course. I didn't steal anything. It's all just junk. ... But now I don't want to part with it anymore."

"Tawna does that as a gargoyle, too," Norman remarks idly, stretching out a little more as he starts to settle fully into the mattress. "But for her, it's craft supplies. That's why she does that little get-together of hers ... "

Inspiration strikes, and he tilts his head at Otto, waiting until he doesn't have his mouth full and can answer.

"You could make something out of it. Weld the metal, maybe melt down the coins ..."

"Melt them down?"

Somehow, the sentiment doesn't sit well with him. Maybe, if he were still a merperson, it might've alarmed him and some of those instincts are lingering. He didn't mind other people touching his 'things', but it'd be another story if something had ever been stolen or broken. He's not a merperson anymore, though. There's no reason to be odd about this.

"... I suppose so. Though, I don't know what I'd make with it. They aren't exactly the sorts of metal that go well together."

He is, of course, thinking purely of creating something practical with these supplies. Art? What is that?

"Eh," he says idly, even as he's starting to consider a few ideas at the back of his mind. Smaller versions of the abstract sort of pieces that adorned countless New York lobbies, walkways, and subway stations, full of color and movement and fodder for the imagination. "S'just a thought."

He shrugs it off for now, deciding to let it go until he's had some more time to process the thought. "How're the pancakes?"

Edited 2022-09-14 23:08 (UTC)

Otto's own thoughts linger on the box of scraps for a little while longer, even as Norman shrugs it off. But then his attention is diverted back to the pancakes. There's more important things to worry about on his birthday than a bunch of shiny trinkets.

"They're wonderful," he says in all earnesty, before sticking his fork in one of the slices and holding it out towards Norman. "Here, try some."

Nor for the flavor, but because he wants Norman to eat something. If Otto has something to say about it, then by the time they're done, a good one third of those pancakes will have been diverted Norman's way.

"Only because you're so damned insistent," Norman chuckles, shaking his head. Then, instead of taking the fork, he just leans forward and takes a bite before giving Otto a sassy little 'are you happy now' look.

"When we're finished here, I have something in town I want to show you."

Yes, he is insistent. And yes, he is happy now- at least for the moment. It certainly warrants a satisfied smile as he draws the fork back again. Next pancake slice will be for him, though.

"In town?" He's not sure what to make of that. If they're not going out to dinner 'till eight, what's happening in town before then? He knows Norman probably won't spoil it, but that just makes him even more curious.

"Mmmhm," he mumbles through his mouthful of pancake before rolling his eyes at himself and waving one hand as he finishes chewing. He really did a decent job on this, and he takes a moment to be pleased with himself, but really, there are bigger and better things coming.

"I've been saving up to get some workspace in the city for a while now, and, ah ... well, it's ... not quite what I'd envisioned, but I'd still love for you to be the first one to see it."

A workspace... Norman had mentioned it several times before; that he had envisioned a Ryslig branch of Oscorp. Otto expects it to be small, though. Just a rented laboratory of mediocre size. Something with all the basic amenities and none of the superfluous luxury. The notion that Norman wants him to see it before anyone else brings a warm smile to his face.

"I'm flattered, Norman. And I'd love to see it."

The 'flattered' remark earns Otto a slightly confused look, but it doesn't last long, and Norman smiles, settling in to share breakfast. Once the last bit of syrup has been scraped up off the plate, he reluctantly slides down off the mattress and reaches out to take the dishes from Otto.

"Here, I'll take care of this while you get ready to go. I'll meet you upstairs in the lobby, honey?"

The bon mot is out of his mouth before he can help it, and he blushes.

Oh- That's... new, isn't it? Otto's pretty sure that's new. He'd remember if he'd been called 'honey' before now. There's a split second, just the briefest flash, where he thinks of Rosie. Then it's quickly suppressed again. His widened eyes blink rapidly, only to ease back into their usual gaze.

He's not opposed to it, he thinks. In fact, he likes it. So he swallows down his apprehension and returns the gesture.

"... I'll see you there, honey."

Norman laughs a little, relieved and a bit surprised, then leans over and kisses his cheek before leaving the room so Otto won't see just how red his cheeks are getting.

They're at nicknames now, he thinks, feeling a giddy sort of rush as he makes his way up to the kitchen. Things are going so much better than he'd even dared to hope for. He had thought they would crawl along awkwardly for months ... but maybe they both realized in some way that life was too short, even in a place where death didn't mean what it used to. That happiness was too important, a rare commodity when your existence depended on horrible things - both doing them and surviving them. He gives the dishes a quick rinse so the syrup won't solidify into impossible, resinous goop later, washes his hands, then grabs his sweatshirt from by the door, checking its pockets. Keys, coin purse: both there. He's still getting used to the latter - no credit cards or folding money has turned out to have an interesting learning curve.

Nevertheless, by the time Otto makes his way upstairs, Norman's ready to go, and waggles the keys - and his eyebrows - with a grin. "Wait until you see what I got Chiaki's friend to rig up for us - not for your birthday, just for -" He hesitates just long enough to realize he shouldn't be hesitating at all. "The family."

Outside is a cream and blue small bus, the two front seats modified so that they only have half-height backs. There's one less bench seat than normal in the back to allow more room for monstrous passengers, but it's still large enough that most of Hill House can pile in.

Edited (you saw no typo) 2022-10-06 02:47 (UTC)

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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, OCTAVIUS. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 015.03.020.15 * OCTAVIUS has joined 015.03.020.15 <OCTAVIUS>** You've reached Dr. Otto Octavius. Please leave a message.