milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Today, Atton is not reading tentacle porn. He is quite relieved by this.

Once more he's sprawled in a booth, reading a datapad and picking at a bowl of cookies. His reading material seems much less disturbing today, as he is grimacing a lot less.

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A bowl of cookies?

A bowl?

Veronica judges you, Atton. She and her pie.

Atton notices her after several moments and gives her a look. The sort of look that says 'What? No, tell me what? Do I have something on my nose? I have something on my nose, don't I? Kriffit, I don't have anything on my nose.'

Veronica just continues to stare, eyes narrowed.

Slowly, very slowly, she takes a forkful of pie, and puts it in her mouth. Then she begins to chew.

Atton arches one eyebrow, sitting up slightly straighter, puffing out his chest just a bit and with an air of immense arrogance, biting into a cookie in such a way that it makes a very loud 'crack!' noise.

Upping the stakes, eh?

Veronica gently lifts her glass of milk, and takes a gulp, to wash the pie down. Then she raises the glass to him in a mock salute.

Atton appears to be very affronted at that, and waves a waitrat over to get something. A moment later, it returns with a glass of some sort of juice. Atton raises it in a similar salute, and takes a large gulp out of it, taking another bite out of his cookie.

Veronica scowls at this, and spears a piece of rhubarb with some venom. Not much pie left, now.

Atton smirks in an incredibly smug and self-satisfied way and appears to ponder a cookie for a few moments, raising it in front of his eyes before stuffing it into his mouth whole.

Veronica's look says, ew.

After her next bite, she pats her lips with a napkin.

Atton shakes his head at Veronica, much in the same way that a teacher would shake his head at a student eating pie in the middle of an important class. And stuffs another cookie in whole.

For her part, Veronica gives him a flat look, then crosses her arms.

"That's gonna go straight to your thighs."

That just confuses Atton.
"Huh?"

"Cookies," she explains, "are bad for you."

The empty pie plate sits there, in full ironic glory.

"So is pie."

"But pie is good for the soul."

"Cookies are good for the mind."

"I thought that was fish," Veronica replies, skeptically.

Atton shudders slightly at the mention of the fish.
"Cookies are even better."

"What've you got against fish? They're delicious."

"I read a nasty article on sea creatures yesterday." Atton replies. And that's all the explanation he's going to give.

For a long moment, she's not really sure what to say about that.

"...Fair enough."

Atton does quite enjoy rendering people speechless.
"Here," He stands, pushing the cookies over to her. "You can have the rest."

Beat.

"Kriff that, I'll take them with me." He picks up the bowl and hurries off with it.

"Straight to your thighs!" Veronica shouts again, as he runs off.

Then she remembers she's out of pie.

Sigh.

[OOC: It's quite tempting to pick up on the tentacle porn que, ~~but I shall resist~~ Oh what the heck.]

If the pilot is quite intent on his reading, he may not notice the whip-like vine that has encircled the bowl of cookies and is stealthily pulling it toward the edge of the table.

Atton snatches the bowl without looking up from his datapad. He just presumes it's Wes. Except Wes is not quite so ... vine-y.

Hmm. Time for a new strategy. With a deft movement, the vine scoops all of the cookies out of the bowl and onto the tabletop, then begins to sweep them onto the floor.

Atton pauses for a second. Wes doesn't normally do that. He looks up from his reading, blinks slightly and raises one hand.
"Those are mine, you little ... thing. What are you, anyway?"

Garnet eyes peep from under the edge of the table. "Bulbasaur," says a soft, gravelly voice. Cookies are still being raked onto the floor.

"Stop that." Atton growls, trying to grab the cookies before they fall to the floor and not being too successful.

The vine retreats, and the sound of munching drifts up from below. A few moments later, the eyes are staring at him from under the table once again. "Bulbasaur, saur?"

"Yeah, we covered that. Stop eating my cookies. Just stop."

It hops up on the bench beside him and sits there, staring straight ahead. After a moment it fidgets, then turns to look at him. "Bulbasaur, saur?" it asks again.

"Why do you keep saying that? Why?"

The creature looks confused.
"Bulbasaursaur, bulbasaur, saur." What? Like it should be saying something else?

Atton facepalms, shaking his head slightly.
"Right, of course. How could I not see that." He has absolutely no idea what Bulbasaur is saying, but he's figured out that it's not going to say anything else.

It returns to staring straight ahead, and actually manages to be quiet for several minutes before trying to talk to the pilot again.

"Saursaur bulba, bulbasaur?"

"Saursaur, bulba." Atton agrees ruefully, still with no idea what Bulbasaur is saying.

Bulbasaur's eyes grow wide at that one. It jumps to its feet and scrambles backward off the bench, watching Atton warily the whole time.

"Sa-sa-sa..." it stutters, then swallows before continuing. "Saur? Bulba bulbasaur?"

"Saur." Atton sighs, facepalming again.

Without another word, the pokémon turns tail and flees in terror, diving beneath the cover of a far distant table and crouches there, shivering in fear.

Atton watches it for a moment, before standing up and leaving.
"Bulba, bulba, saur." He mutters under his breath as he goes.

Is he going to run away if Mercutio approaches? He has to return the tentacle porn datapad, anyway, slipping it onto the table in front of Atton.

"God gi' good e'en."

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