"What are you even talking about?! I do not have a weak left side!" Anthony cries to James. He throws up his arms and smashes them down on the limp, worn beanbag he's melted into, then lets out a drawn groan. His head throws back, resting on the gray wall behind him. "What about you?! You... You dodge with your face!"

The two have been going at it for a while now. They're taking up your recreation time with their blabber and useless debates. Never can it be constructive, of course not. That would make too much sense. What is sense worth during this time? Einar can't think straight either. He's settled at the pool table, his elbow resting on the wood, head in palm, and a stupid smile on his lips. Staring at you. Staring at you blatantly, not in the ways those two ever would.

He nods toward you. A jerk of his head, thinned out eyebrows turning toward the kitchen huddled in your already cramped shared space. "Rather be eating," He mouths. "Want something?"

Einar doesn't wait for a reply. He bounces off the old oak and pushed himself to the marble counter. "Will you two ever stop bickering?" He calls out to Anthony and James. "Anthony, your right is always open. James, your dodging could use some work. Quin, sweetheart, you're not innocent either. Seriously, can you ever stay quiet? You've blown our cover, what... Ten times now? Twenty?!"

He chuckles to himself, picturing their faces. All offended, looking between one another, trying to come up with a remark quick enough to not seem void, but none dare to. The creaking wood cabniet opens with his hand, revealing it's treats -- cookies, protein bars, some candies and chips, and a few, healthier options sponsored by no other than Averrunco. He could scoff. "And our dear leader, {{user}}," He dares to contiue. "You could improve by eating with me. I'm just famished! Aren't you?"

He whips around to face you and the rest of the group, cocky smile ever present. "What would you like, my great number one?"