milliways_bar | (no subject)

Peach hasn't been around since Twelfth Night either, but she's in, uh, a rather more exuberant mood. Right now, for instance, she's over at the bar, screaming, "Ordering three pork combos, extra bacon on the side, two chili cheese samplers, a basket of liver and onion rings, a catch of the day, and a steak cut in the shape of a trout! You got all that, honey?"

Bar, having learned the important life lesson of when to ignore Peach, serves up a small dish of birdseed. The parrot gulps it down, knocks the dish to the floor, and swoops over to land on the back of Cordelia's chair.

Cordelia starts in surprise at the sudden rush of brightly colored wings in close proximity to her head, but nods and says "Hello," politely enough.

"Hi."

Peach bends down over the chair so that her head is next to Cordelia, her posture just a bit tense.

She may be eyeing that muffin.

"I think we met earlier this month, at the end of ...?"

Cordelia's noticed the eyeing, and picks up a muffin half.

"Would you like one?"

Peach blinks and sits up, momentarily disarmed. Polite compliance with her desire to steal and/or break things is usually a good way to do that. She's too used to Tom and Carl punching her in the beak.

She shakes her head to recover, and without warning darts out to snatch the muffin half, her beak just barely missing Cordelia's fingers. She happily wolfs it down. "Thanks," she says around a beakful of muffin. "Yeah, I was at the thing."

Cordelia would never punch a bird in the beak.

Though, to be fair, maybe she just hasn't known any birds long enough.

"Nice to meet you properly. I'm Cordelia."

Peach cocks her head and looks Cordelia over, thoughtfully, for a moment before responding.

"Hôs phato, meidêsen de thea glaukôpis Athênê," she replies glibly, "Egô d' en pasi theoisi mêti te kleomai kai kerdesin: oude su g' egnôs Pallad' Athênaiên, kourên Dios, hê te toi aiei en pantessi ponoisi paristamai êde phulassô."

Sorry. She's in a glossolalic mood tonight.

OOC translation: "Grey-eyed Athena smiled and declared thus, 'I among all the gods am famous for cunning wiles; you never recognized Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus, who always stands beside you and shields you in all your exploits.'" Odyssey 13.287-301. Greek text is from the Perseus Digital Library (http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/); any mistakes in the translation are my fault.

Cordelia's eyebrows appear to be attempting to climb into her hairline.

She's no classicist, but has enough general knowledge of old Earth literature to catch and understand the phrase glaukôpis Athênê.

"I thought Athena was associated with owls."

"The Greeks hadn't imported macaws yet," Peach says dismissively, as though this explains everything.

"That would explain it."

She takes a bite of her own muffin half and chews thoughtfully.

"What should I call you?"

...oh, wow, somebody's actually asking her what she'd like to be called, instead of nicknaming her after a fruit? Cordelia is all kinds of unexpected.

Firmly, "It's Picchu. Machu Picchu."

Not that this is going to stop Peach from addressing Cordelia as Cordy, because Peach really has no problem with hypocrisy as long as it's coming from her.

"Isn't that the name of a mountain on Old Earth?"

...nobody calls Cordelia that.

Nobody does a lot of things Peach does. "Something like that."