milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Two players, two characters, one post.

Dream enters without his usual fanfare, at his favored table. He, of course, is scribed in black, white, and hems of burning nightmare. One pale, pale hand rests on Kitty's shoulder.

She looks a little more with it, a little less likely to fall apart, than she had been the last time she came into the bar. She also still looks like she'd rather not be here, for all she can't hide forever.

He looks worried, for him, and silently accepts two cups of coffee from a passing rat. One of them is handed to his favorite niece before he sips from the other one.

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There is a quiet thump somewhere to the left, and Raven approaches, head tilted and eyes bright.

He nods to Dream, but when he speaks, it is directed at Kitty.

"It has been some time, I think."

He nods in return, and remains silent unless addressed.

"Hey, Raven," she says softly, with a half smile. "Just a little bit, yeah."

"You would prefer questions?"

He tilts his head.

"Or cookies?"

"Cookies I can handle. Questions might not get the greatest answers."

Raven fishes in his pocket and hands Kitty several chocolate chip cookies.

He is generous in the face of sorrow. Or something.

"I do not demand great things, I do not think. But possibly it is better to discuss alligators crossbred with fish, yes?"

For 'better', read 'easier'.

For the moment.

"You know, there's an alien race that looks like that's their ancestry," she replies lightly, and murmurs a thanks as she takes the cookies.

"It is the teeth, perhaps? Or the gills?"

Beat.

"Or perhaps the protruding eyeballs?"

"Teeth and gills. The eyeballs were kinda like a praying mantis'."

"Easily poked out and tiny?"

Raven has professional interest in this, of course.

"It is odd, perhaps."

"Also kinda glittery."

Of course he does.

He perks up even more, if that is possible, posture straighter and gaze more intent.

"The question now, I think, is whether they also taste good, yes?"

"--I have never," solemnly, "tried it."

Raven looks faintly shocked.

"It is a question of texture, I think. Eyeballs are not quite firm enough for some."

He does not understand this. They are much better when they're runny.

"They're not a common dish where I come from," she says carefully.

"They are better raw."

He nods again, biting into a cookie.

"Humans are very strange. Also they deprive themselves, I think."

"We are picky," she agrees.

"Also you insist on sweaters."

Raven sounds confounded.

Why?

Who knows. Maybe it's the sheep.

Baaaaah.

"Well, now it's getting warmer out, though," she says reasonably.

"Then there will be sweater-vests."

Raven sounds like he knows.

Resignation is an odd look on him.

She cracks a genuine grin.

"That should be illegal."

"There are reasons I do not trust law enforcement."

Raven's tone is dark and brooding.

It is difficult not to laugh.

"Perhaps you should become a member of a police force."

Scary, scary, wrong idea.

"The badges are certainly pretty."

Raven looks thoughtful. Oh dear.

"But I am not fond of the hats."

"Perhaps you can redesign them."

Kitty is evil.