milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ah so, here is the recovering alcoholic hippie, in the bar, at a booth, with real food. Yeah, totally. He's eating it very, very slowly, but he does have what appears to be a ham sandwich. And tea.

And a really big, really old book, compliments of ~~Nearly Wristless Rod~~ Roderick Usher.

He is also playing with a spoon, twirling it in one hand lazily.

Please annoy.

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Miniver blushes at the compliment.

"...Oh dear. That's not a good thing, really, no. But you're always white, right? Like how Asar-Suti is purple. Well. At least you match everything, whereas Asar-Suti would have some problems if he wanted to wear plaid, or something."

"I can wear any color I want, really, but I actually have to go out and get clothing for that. I only really own two...one shirt, now that one got ripped up by an idiot with a huge sword the other day, and one pair of pants, and a leather jacket. These," he gestures to the all-white clothing he is wearing, "I just create when I take on human-shape."

"Classy," says the man wearing clothing no Salvation Army would take as a donation. "Hey. So. If you're wearing real clothing, and turn into a cat, does it get, like, absorbed into your flesh, or does it just drop and you have to claw out of it?" He makes a clawing motion at the air.

Yrael snickers. "No. I just let it unmake itself again. I hold physical shape, including my own clothing, through force of will."

"Maaaaan," Miniver says, "it must be sweet to be a god-thing. Like, you never get cold! Because you can just MAKE anything you need. How groovy is that? Hey. Can you stop wars by force of will? Cuz, if so, I know a world that'd be willing to hire you for said service."

"I have never tried to stop wars by force of will," Yrael says, amused.

He tends to stay out of wars. It's what got him imprisoned in the first place.

"I doubt that I could. I am not that kind of thing."

"But you could like, magic everyone into like... rubber suits filled with treacle." Miniver does not, technically, know exactly what treacle is, but he read about it in a book and it sounds terribly British and must therefor be a good solution. Like tea. "Or! Paint a giant... something... on the MOON, so everyone is too busy worrying about how something got painted on the MOON to fight!"

Miniver feels that if he had been a god, the world would be a much better place in SO many ways, many of which directly involve such abstract concepts as "treacle" and "mauve" and "divine right monarchy" and "French cheese."

Yrael grins at Miniver. "I do admit I like how you think."

He is amusing.

"But what if I do not like treacle?" It is far to sticky, anyway.

(ooc: It is 3:15am. Mun gocollapsy. Slowtime?)

[ooc: Sure thing!]

Miniver gives this matter Deep Consideration, for all of up to 20 seconds.

"Well," he reasons, "you wouldn't be the one in a rubber suit, would you?"

"Yes, but there would be nothing but treacle to talk to, and that would be boring. Also, it would ruin the books."

He tilts his head.

"Everyone but librarians into treacle. Libraries are no place for war, anyway."

There, the world is quiet. Perhaps.

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