milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sara enters the bar, descending the stairs, stretching as she walks. She takes a seat and orders a hot mug of coffee, curling her fingers around it for warmth.

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Monkey has decided to spend today in a variety of very small sizes, to better grasp... what life would be like if he was very small. Basically.

It takes him a very long time to scale Sara's table, despite monkey-speed and monkey-agility, but when he succeeds she is rewarded by the sight of an inch-high furry Buddhist priest stalking her mug.

The size, long legs and general hairiness make her first thought: tarantula! Instinctively, she pulls back, jerking her hands away from the bar's surface.

Clearly she is surrendering the coffee to him.

He clambers up onto the edge of the cup and sniffs, trying to decide if he wants it or not. Smells bitter.

~~Clearly proper italics tags are for the weak!~~

Bitter is a good word for it: Sara likes her coffee blacker than black, so looking into that mug is like up on a starless night.

"Ergh," she mutters, meanwhile, somewhat disgusted.

"Hello!" Monkey does not feel the need to deperch, as he waves.

Maybe later he will swim.

"Ohmygod."

It comes out in a rush, as Sara scrambles away from her stool.

Monkey is sad!

But not for long, because he has no attention span.

He scurries along to play with the Sweet-and-Lo.

"Ew."

She watches the little - thing's progress, and slowly realizes that it's probably not a tarantula. Not that the alternative is much better.

"Hello?"

Oh, we're doing this again. "Hello!"

"What --" it's moving away from startled, now, and toward curious. "-- what are you?"

People keep saying that. "I am a Buddhist priest."

"Really."

"Yes?" People are so weird. "Alms?"

"What sort of alms are appropriate for a tiny spider monk?"

"Fruit," Monkey says, first things first, and then, indignant: "I am not a spider!"

"Sorry, you just look a little... strange."

'A little' being the operative phrase.

"What kind of fruit would you like?"

"Figs," Monkey says. He liked Hektor's.

"I am the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Stone Monkey," he says, sulkily.

"Bar? Figs, please."

Apologetically, "It's -- very nice to meet you."

"I know," he says cheerfully.

The figs are very large, relatively speaking, and he begins to mow through them with head-sized bites.

Sara watches the progress with some fascination.

"I -- I'm not a practicing Buddhist or anything, but I've done a lot of reading on it, actually."

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