milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

There's an Atton inna booth, juggling and, as he always does, failing at it. For once, he doesn't have anything else he's doing at the same time, though he is occasionally checking a datapad tutorial.

At least, he thinks it's a tutorial. He keeps seeing subliminal messages in there. It's a bit disturbing, really.

Ignore the evil icon, he's in quite a good, nice, non-psychotic mood right now. I just felt like using it.

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Atton grins in her direction. This, unfortunately, causes a lapse in concentration which makes all the balls tumble down. Some of them onto his head.

Inyri grins, biting her lip. She wanders up to him, playing with Wyn's ear. "You need better concentration."

"I have good concentration!" Atton protests. It's almost true, in a strange sort of way. "Just ... not with balls." He tosses one up absently, glaring at it when it has the audacity not to land in his hand.

Inyri set Wyn on his table. "Do you mind?" She gestures at the balls.

"I'm not going to be crying myself to sleep at night because I can't juggle them," Atton says cheerfully. "Well, maybe a tear or two."

Inyri picks the balls up, making a face at him. She tosses them in the air, and juggles them. Without mistakes.

She catches them and sets them back on the table, picking Wyn back up. "No use crying over lost balls."

"Whoop-de-doo for you," Atton laughs. "And they aren't really lost. I'd be silly to lose my balls."

Inyri grins. "I'm good at something, at least. And I'm glad to know your balls aren't lost."

"I'm sure you're good at lots of stuff," Atton puts a hand out. "Atton Rand."

"Not really." Inyri shrugs, and shakes his hand. "Inyri Forge."

Atton blinks, shaking her hand somewhat absently and just freezing. He's not entirely sure whether to say 'oh, yes, Wes mentioned you', facepalm or just burst out laughing. So he just freezes, smiling, with only his hand moving in an endless handshake.

Inyri pulls her hand out of his. "You know Wes."

"Yes. How'd you guess?" Still fixed grin, still frozen, and his hand is making the hand-shaking movement even though there's no hand to shake.

Inyri pushes his hand down, looking at him stonily. "What did he say about me?"

Atton frowns.
"I'm not sure. He was drunk at the time. So was I. It's just a bit of a blur, really," He lies. It's an extremely convincing lie, though. "I think there was paint involved."

Inyri lies everyday. She's very good at reading people who lie.

"Paint? I doubt that. That was saved for when we were dating." She sits on the table, uninvited, crossing her legs at her knees. "Did he tell you I kissed him? Did he tell you he wanted more?"

"Ask him, not me, I don't want to be interrogated. I'm not his keeper," Atton says. It's almost a growl. Almost. "I am not the victim you're looking for."

Inyri tilts her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. "Then don't act like I have a disease until you know everything."

"Do you have a disease?" Atton says pleasantly. "Just wonderin'."

Inyri just glares. "No. I don't."

assface

Atton grins brightly.
"That's good. Insert transparent attempt at flirting here."

Inyri smirks. And leans foward a little. Oh look. Low cut dress. "You're really annoying. I can see why Wes likes you."

Insert Inyri's own transparent flirting.

"Thanks. I try," Atton laughs. "I could be much more irritating."

"Please don't. I'd have to shut you up." Inyri smiles, pulling Wyn into her lap, and petting her.

"Now, how'd you do that I wonder," Atton snickers. "I'm difficult to shut up, y'know."