(no subject)

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Anthy is cradling a mug of hot chocolate between her hands, and slowly unwrapping some green tea candies; it's a lazy afternoon -- her day off -- and she's enjoying the cold pale sunlight, so different from Houou's.

Comments

[river_meimei]

River thoughtfully puts another fried paradox in her mouth. It crunches.

Spotting Anthy, she beams at her in greeting.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Anthy smiles back, lifting one hand in a half-wave, and reaches for her food.

River's booth has room for one more.

[river_meimei]

That it does.

River shifts the paradoxes a careful inch to make room for Anthy's food.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

"Hello, River," says Anthy, settling into the cushioned seat. The paradoxes she ignores, but she offers River a green tea candy. They're wrapped in foil! "How have you been?"

[river_meimei]

River accepts happily.

"There's no snow on the ship."

This is a sad thing, her tone implies, but nothing to get really worked up over.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

"There's water," Anthy offers. (Or so she hopes.)

"What makes water turn to snow instead of ice?"

[river_meimei]

"In the clouds. Crystalization follows different forms due to atmospheric variation in the stratosphere."

She smiles, sudden and sunny.

"Snowflakes are made of ice. Miniaturized."

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Sometimes River sounds like a duel song.

"Oh."

She glances toward the windows; outside the snow's formed a glittering blanket.

"But . . . not packed so tightly?"

[river_meimei]

"It's in shapes."

River happily sketches a snowflake on the table, with her finger. It leaves a faint greasy trail, thanks to the fried paradoxes.

"Points and spines. The assembly is precariously symmetrical."

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

"Yes," says Anthy, doubtfully, and, brushing the design with one finger, "But are these lines of ice?"

[river_meimei]

"Lines and holes. They aspire to be fractal."

"There are photographs."

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Anthy does not ask what a fractal is.

Instead, she drinks some tea, and eats another piece of candy. It tastes like green.

Slowly: "Photographs."

Yes.

It's a word.

Thank you, Anthy.

[river_meimei]

River would explain!

...This is why it's probably wise of Anthy to not ask.

River nods happily. "Electron and light-spectrum. They magnify the snowflakes."

[ay-el-ef.livejournal.com]

"Chef Anthy!" It's a cheerful sort of voice from about the level of her knees.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Anthy looks down.

And beams.

"Alf-san! It's good to see you."

[ay-el-ef.livejournal.com]

"How goes the cooking?"

He has a personal interest, you see.

"I've brought you something!"

It's a kitten.

It's still alive.

They're better fresh.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

"Oh, it's adorable!" says Anthy, cheerfully ignoring the part where he thinks of it as a meal. She offers it a hand for sniffing.

"I haven't cooked anything recently, but maybe I could ask Bernard if I can use the kitchens."

[ay-el-ef.livejournal.com]

The kitten looks at her with wide, innocent eyes, completely unaware it is being offered up to the great god of the stomach of ALF.

ALF, for his part, grins. "How could he refuse?! Anthy, baby, you've got a gift. It's got to be shared with the universe."

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

"He doesn't like curry," she says doubtfully, but brightens, after a moment. "Oh -- I do have a small --"

"Would you like some cat curry now?"

She scoops up the kitten with one hand, and scritches it behind the ears.

[ay-el-ef.livejournal.com]

"Do opera singers tend to be overweight?!"

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Pause.

Doubtfully: "If they eat a lot of cat curry."

"I won't be long!"

Up the stairs. Kitty is regarding her with some confusion.

[ay-el-ef.livejournal.com]

Its real name is Prudence.

Sucks to be the cat, don't it?

ALF, for his part, is trying not to drool.

Drool makes his fur knot.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

She returns. (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/10694540.html)

[ay-el-ef.livejournal.com]

"YOU are an angel. A mistress of the culinary arts. You are, in fact, a cooking mofo."

ALF ain't in the 80's anymore, yo.

He knows what a cooking mofo is.

Oh yeah.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

"Oh," says Anthy. Bewildered.

Anthy is.

Also please keep the word "motherfucker" away from her 'verse, because there it's often literally true.