milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There is an Yrael in the bar, tonight, though you may miss him if you are looking for the standard albino-young-man-dressed-all-in-white.

There is an albino young man who looks much like Yrael at the bar, tonight, but he is dressed in a dark green shirt with a white jacket, and black dress pants. It is a new thing, owning clothes. Yrael fears he may have to learn how to use an iron, someday soon.

But the newly clothes-owning not'cat is not very happy, tonight. He came home yesterday to find his corner in near shambles: his books in disarray and his other things jumbled about. His copy of the Oxford English Dictionary had actually fallen upon his violinstrings, and had snapped three of them.

He is seeing to his violin right now, restringing it. Do come welcome him home and try to dissuade him from the belief that torching the damn clock would be the best course of action.

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He looks up while tightening one of the newly-strung strings, and grins. "Thank you, Meg. It is good to be back, though it seems I cannot leave the bar for one week without it getting in trouble." Yrael tuts, briefly.

- you mean the earthquakes, blackouts, all that?

*Meg makes a face.* If it turned out all that was happening just because you went away, I have to say, I'd be - well, a lot more vehement about getting you to stay here in the future.

"If it hinged on me staying here, I would never leave again."

Maybe.

"But if it did hinge on me staying here, you would not get hand-me-down clothes, as I promised you would get. It is my duty as an older sister."

Who cares that he's male at the moment? He scoots a large, loosely-wrapped parcel towards her.

*Meg's eyes grow huge.

Carefully, she unwraps the package, doing her best not to rip through the fabric, and unfolds what's inside.

As the fabric tumbles down, she breaks into a giant beaming grin.*

Dieu - my sister has good taste!

Yrael grins widely, cheerful, "I am glad you approve. She did her best, after all."

- give me a second, I'll be right back, I'm just going to go try it on -

*Meg darts towards the bathroom, clutching the flowing gown.*

Chuckling, Yrael waves her away. He hopes she likes the way it looks.

*When Meg returns, she's not walking, but spinning back to the table, watching in delight as the skirt twirls around her.*

He looks pleased.

"I thought you might like it."

I do - I love it, *Meg says, and then giggles.*

- though I'm sure, sister dear, that it looked better on you. Hand-me-downs always look better on the first person they're for.

Yrael beams and runs a hand back through her suddenly long hair.

"Naturally, little sister."

*Meg tilts her head, with a grin.*

- so please tell me, you haven't been running around using my face places that might cause awkwardness later, have you?

Brightly, "Of course not! I would never do anything like that."

See her beam!

. . . . so if someone comes up and slaps me, then I know who to blame, *Meg concludes, cheerfully.*

"Depends on who it is and the situation at hand, really." She says, evasively.

. . . well, I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything slap-worthy recently.

*A pause, for consideration.*

- 'course, there are other people who've used my face too, but I don't think any of them have for a while. So, all you.

"Ah! But you aren't sure! So it could totally be them, and you would be blaming blameless me for no reason."

Innocence becomes her, really!

*- so that's what she looks like when doing her best innocent look.

Meg notes, with interest, and meanwhile says,* Bien sur! I mean, that's appropriate sisterly behavior, isn't it?

The not'Meg wilts, looking put out. "Blaming one's sister when you are not sure she is at fault is appropriate sisterly behavior, indeed. I had forgotten."

He always blamed his sisters, after all.

Exactement.

*Meg looks smug.*

See, I'm picking up this whole sister thing awfully fast.

See Meg's adopted sister pout.

Pout, Yrael, pout.

*Encouragingly:* Ne t'inquietes pas; I mean, there's benefits for you too.

"Oh?" He says, no longer a not'Meg, and now just a not'man.

"What would they be? Free coffee? Which, I'll remind you, I do not drink."

Free coffee, *Meg agrees, blithely ignoring Yrael's last comment,* and complete teasing rights. Which are not to be scoffed at.

"Ah, but Meg, dear sister mine." He spread his hands, "I would tease you even if you were not my darling little sister."