milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There's an inkstained gentleman, writing furiously in a booth. His fingers have ink on them, his hand has ink on it where it's been brushing the page, his shirt cuff has ink on it where it's been dragged. His forehead has ink on it where black fingers pushed hair out of his face.

He hasn't eaten because he's been writing and he looks incredibly excited to be nearly finished-- not even nearly-- here. We. Are.

Yes.

Telemain puts down the pen with a triumphant 'hah' and straightens up for an immediate head rush from sitting one way too long. He looks like he's about to die, possibly. But! He'll die happy.

First things first, the waitrat is flagged for more tea. Someone tell him to take a breath and eat something, for heaven's sake.

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"Thank ye, sir,"

Food is always good for covering uncertainity in what to say and Will's been outside with his sword all day, figuring out going back home and what to tell Molly before he leaves.

"Tell me some of the goings ons."

He's sure there's been some.

"Aye, sir, tisna much to tell, been quiet o'late. 'ave met a lovely woman 'ere, sir, who seems 'appy 'nough to 'ave me,"

Now there's blushing since talking about Molly always brings the red to Will's face though there's still worry since he knows he has to leave soon.

"That's good news, then. Congratulations."

Interplanetary dating service indeed! Telemain shuffles his papers awkwardly.

The awkward paper shuffling is noticed, "Do ye 'ave a lady, sir?"

"Gracious me, no."

No.

"Aye, sir, 'rhaps ye should find one then, since surely ye need someone to 'mind ye to eat when ye work too 'ard."

Will's in a good enough mood that teasing Telemain is amusing and easy.

"I already have Morwen for that."

Just the faintest hint of colour in his face, only if you look close.

"Aye, sir, 'member ye speakin' o''er,"

The color is noticed and Will just grins,

"Twould make a fine partner for ye an ye would 'ave all the cider ye could drink, sir."

"Young man!"

Shhh, Will! The age card has been played. Be quiet.

And now, if only Telemain had something coherent to say.

Will just grins with an innocent look, he's been called far worse and he's seen Robin and Marian so knows the signs,

"Aye, sir?"

"You're casting perfectly ridiculous aspersions."

Just so as he knows.

"You've never met Morwen."

"Nay, sir, I 'avena but 'ave seen the look ye get when ye talk 'bout 'er."

And this is more than enough proof for Will.

"Rubbish."

There is no 'look.'

"Aye, sir, whate'er ye wish to believe,"

Will's just going to innocently eat the rest of his lunch.

Telemain sets into his food too, disgruntled.

Because, really.

Will just grins some more since clearly this proves his point without a doubt, he's already finished his food anyway,

"When ye write a paper, who reads it, sir?"

Have a polite subject change, Telemain though Will's not going to stop grinning and will tease you about Morwen whenever an oppurtunity presents itself.

"Whoever I care to send it to, or who requests a copy. My colleagues, and I'll drop a bound edition by several of the libraries if I should deem it worth printing. These things circulate naturally about the magical community. Largely by word of mouth."

"Aye, sir, an do ye write many papers?"

Will's still learning to read and Belle hasn't started teaching him to write yet but the idea of people just writing papers like this is strange to him.

"Not so complex as this, usually."

This one is thick- thick. It's taken months of research and compilation. It will take months more to edit, rewrite, expand. This is the first draft.

"Not in a year or two."

"Aye, sir,"

It is impressively thick and Will's just a bit awed by the size of it,

"What did ye end up findin' out?"

"For certain? Nothing. I merely put together a hypothesis with as much support as I could muster. It's to encourage further research. It discusses the fundamental ethical nature of magic."

He's very proud.

"Aye, sir,"

That doesn't make any sense to Will but clearly Telemain is proud of it, so there is nodding.

"It's... would you charactarize a sword as good or bad, Will?"

Lets see if he can explain this.

"Tis a tool an a weapon, sir, all depends on who's wieldin' it."

The grin has faded as Will looks more serious as he thinks on this question.