milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Autor is stuck.

He found himself rooted to the spot a little while ago--which was quite rude of the floor, as he fell when he stopped abruptly and had to scramble back to his feet without moving them. Though he can flail his arms and speak, he can't lift his feet, nor can he take off his shoes.

All right. Stay calm, the boy thinks, already panicked. He's stuck, and zombies might come through the door. Or worse, Hannibal Lecter might find him this way and want to "chat" about something. What would Rae do?

"Um. Help?" he asks the bar at large, burying his fingers in the oversized, blue scarf he knitted for himself. "I appear to be glued to the floor."

He completely fails to notice the mistletoe above his head.

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"Wait, what?" Autor gasps, going rigid. Color floods his cheeks. "There's a kissing tradition? A-And I have to... Oh, that's just wrong!"

"I'm not in charge here."

Is she amused at someone else's suffering? Maybe a little. Not meanly, though.

"Still, I'm not sure what I'll do," Autor says, clearly fretting. He curls his hands in his scarf. "I mean, will a hand kiss work? Those would work, right? And they're not as important as other kisses, so... so maybe I'll be able to--this is a disaster!"

"You could try the hand kiss on me, if you want."

Yeah, okay, she feels kind of bad for him. This is clearly freaking him out.

Autor stills, blinking. He's surprised, really, that this virtual stranger would subject herself to that. "R-Really?" he squeaks. "Oh. Um. Thank you. I... really appreciate that."

His blush curls around his ears, spreading to the back of his neck. He holds out his hand. "I-If you're sure."

"No big."

She's a hero. Helping dudes in distress is probably somewhere in the hero rules.

She tosses in a theatrically sweeping bow before taking his hand and kissing it lightly, though, because if you're going to kiss the hand of some guy you just met to free him from his captivity like a Disney prince, you should do it right.

"Did that work?"

Autor gasps. "I- I thought I was going to--wasn't I s-supposed to kiss your hand? I've never had mine kissed before, and, um, it's not wrong just surprising."

He rises up on his toes, and his heels are no longer stuck to the floor. "Ah! Thank you! That worked!" he says, taking a few steps away from the mistletoe to make sure he doesn't get caught again. "I really appreciate that."

Okay, the look on his face was totally payment enough. Rikki grins.

"'s cool, no big. Happy to help."

Autor grins, wrinkling his nose at the mistletoe. "A pox on you, and all your kind," he says to it, shaking his fist. Then he turns to Rikki again. "That was quite courtly of you, even if it was a fascinating subversion of gender roles. The trope of men kissing hands is a bit outdated anyway."

Then he bows a bit. "Also, hello. As you know, I am Autor, but I wanted to introduce myself properly."

She shrugs. "I figured if I was gonna do it, better do it right."

Go big or go home, so to speak.

"Hey. So maybe look up a little more in the future?"

"Absolutely," Autor says, so all of it. "Why, just the other day I chided someone for not looking up, and here I am, falling to the same trap."

The boy shakes his head. "So what year are you from?"

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