herr_bookman (
herr_bookman) wrote in
milliways_bar2013-08-04 02:58 pm
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So, here he is. Stuck under a booth, blind, and without a stitch of clothing on.
Good thing the fuzz-wait! Where's the fuzzy coat of grey fur?
"Lucas!"
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After Lucas saves Autor further embarrassment, the fully-clothed former kitten chats with his friend in that fated booth. He's sipping a glass of milk and wondering if it'll ever taste the same to him.
[OOC: Modified plotlocked thread to open, double EP; all threads Millitimed to after Lucas'!]
Good thing the fuzz-wait! Where's the fuzzy coat of grey fur?
"Lucas!"
---
After Lucas saves Autor further embarrassment, the fully-clothed former kitten chats with his friend in that fated booth. He's sipping a glass of milk and wondering if it'll ever taste the same to him.
[OOC: Modified plotlocked thread to open, double EP; all threads Millitimed to after Lucas'!]
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Lies, damn lies, and school uniforms.
"But I can see how that would cause some serious questions around the coffee shop. I assume you don't use make up to cover them?"
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"I don't. There isn't much more nakedly hands-on than kneading dough, and I spend much of the day up to my elbows in flour; I doubt concealer would do anything for the taste of the bread. Not anything good, at least."
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Her casual use of 'nakedly' just adds fuel to the flames on his face. I am taking this far too seriously, he thinks, adjusting his glasses. She's not even trying to embarrass me.
"Right. I would suspect that would change the taste quite a bit," he says, and miracle of miracles, his voice doesn't crack. "You do pride yourself on avoiding flour-additives, after all."
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"...What are you blushing about now?"
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"Oh," the boy murmurs distantly, nibbling the corner of his lip. "Cravats. I think."
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"Your mind is a strange, strange place, Autor." But she is more approving than not. He's seventeen. This is absolutely normal.
"A certain someone in a cravat? A lacy one?"
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Autor folds his arms and turns his nose up. "Lacy," he spits quietly, threaded with a squeak--rather like he did when he was a kitten.
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"After all, it is... just a cravat."
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The boy leans back, pinning her with a surly gaze--for one moment. In the next, he buries his face in his hands. "You are terrible."
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He wrinkles his nose up at her, facing her for the first time since he lowered his hands. "What am I going to do with you, Rae?"
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"What did make you turn into a kitten, anyway? You drank something?"
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Only then does he realize that his pocketbook is minus one promised gold piece.
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No wonder he ended up as a kitten!
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"My senses exploded, too--I could find my way around via my nose. There were so many new smells, Rae. And the milk! Well, the milk was ridiculous. As were the um... the ah..." he trails off, rubbing his cheek as he whispers, "the scritches. Those were really quite nice."