milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's very sudden. Atton just gets up from where he is sitting, drinking something surprisingly non-alcoholic and leaves the bar.

A couple of moments later, he enters again. Except he looks much younger. Thirteen years younger, in fact, or thereabouts. And very hungover.

"Oh, kriff, not again - ..." Eighteen-year-old-Atton-who-is-not-yet-called-Atton breaks off into a stream of curses, but runs out of them before long. So he goes and looks broody in a booth.

It seemed a good idea at the time.

((Mun may have to go in forty minutes or, at the most, two hours, so slowtime may be necessary.))

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"I might."

She folded her arms, leaning against the wall.

"I'm very unpredictable."

"So am I," Jaq says. "And this morning, I woke up with the visage of the Supreme Chancellor on the right of my chest, so I am not in the best of moods."

"Then perhaps it would be better to kill you."

All trace of amusement is hidden so well, it was impossible to be sure she was joking.

"Put you out of your suffering."

"I'm not suffering that much. Or at least, I won't be if it can be washed off."

Her smile finally arrived. Better late than never.

"We could always slice it off."

"Oh, no. No, no, no. No," Jaq shakes his head. "No, no."

"Is that a no?"

Grinning,

"I'll buy you a drink." Directly after taping a note to the top of the crate that says 'DO NOT KICK. EXPLOSIVE CONTENTS'.

"That's a no. I could do with a drink, though." Jaq grins crookedly at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Anything in particular?" She asked, ordering herself a glass of water.

"As long as it's very non-alcoholic, I'm fine. I don't think I have enough tastebuds left to care what it is."

"That's not like you." She tapped Bar, waiting until a very strong mug of coffee appeared, then slid it over to him.

Watching him for a bit, she sat on the edge of a stool. He looked younger than she remembered. Or maybe she just felt older.

"I'm fairly certain the worst way to deal with a hangover is to drink more." Jaq replies, shrugging and sitting down.

Surveying him over the top of her glass, the words drop into the air strangely. A sort of caring where there should be none. Aeryn's found that she cares for everything more these days.

"Have you been...well?"

"Well enough. You?"

Can Jaq detect shifty eyes as well as Atton? Only time will tell!

"Acceptable."

Jaq tilts his head slightly.
"Acceptable?"

"Acceptable." Aeryn repeated, giving absolutely no leverage.

"In general."

"Acceptable." Said in the same way that somebody might say 'You're a dancing walrus. Right, of course you are.'

Aeryn is not a walrus. Neither is the mun. ~~Your momma!~~

"That's what I said."

"Yeah," Jaq sips his drink. "I heard. I'd like to say I'm not that gullible but I probably am."

"If I killed you," Aeryn stated, jumping subjects. ", Atton technically wouldn't exist..."

"It's an interesting thought, but there's a reason I'm a pilot and not a philosopher or a physicist. So, how are you really?"

Interesting? Or tempting. He'll never know now.

"It's been a rough monen, but I get by as always." It's at times like this the mun wished she smoked, it'd give her something to do with her hands. Other than let them fidget.

The fidgetting irritates Jaq somewhat. After all, there are better things to do with hands. Like steal.

"Right." He's seemingly satisfied with this answer, and takes a sip of his drink.

Always blunt,

"You are more like him now. Annoying."