milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Alright. In Bar, or out? I assume we're tellin' him befo' hand, right?"

Maybe a kitten so something in his world would love him?

"Depends. Know of any really good locations for a party in your world?"

"My house is good. Big, secluded, got a wine cellar dat's able t' easily get twenty families o' hard drinkin' assassins drunk, 'n' not too hard to get t', provided a lil bit o' underground travel ain't a problem."

"Sounds great t'me. I doubt Guppy minds travelling underground. Just blindfold him if he does, it'll be fine."

"Indeed. Y' get y' midgets on de nuts 'n' bolts, I'll get de house ready f'r de particulars, 'n' in de mean time, we should inform Guppy o' de plan."

"They'll be like my two dwarf army," Atton says, nodding solemnly. "And yeah, we should. Whenever one of us next sees him, we should mention it."

"Oui. Y'll prolly be de one who does. . .I got shit back home keepin' me busy. Should be over soon. Mebe set de date f'r a mont' from now?"

"What sorta shit? And yeah. About a month from now sounds alright t'me."

She shrugged. "Family business."

This is the point where her face becomes carefully blank while her emotions are held even more carefully in check.

"Family business that y'don't want t'talk about?"

"Bingo. Y' up f'r dinner? I could use a bite."

It's both misdirection and habit. Feeding people is good.

"Not at the moment, thanks." Atton isn't so easily misdirected. But he decides to drop the subject anyway.

She shrugged. "Care if I eat, den? Not quite ready t' head back."

It would be a few hours and a couple glasses of wine before going home sounded good. The longer her brother waited, the more nervous she got.

"No, please go ahead," Pause. "'S that bad, then? Assassins aren't generally so easily deterred, in my experience."

She shrugged. "He's one o' de ones who taught me. Got four years on me, 'n' not'in' t' loose. Beside bein' batshit crazy. So, yeah, guess so."

The rat scampered over when she waved. After a moment of thought, she ordered curry and a beer. It was her usual comfort food regime.

"I'd offer t'go back with you and deal with him - Regular good samaritan, I am - but I take it y'have t'do this on your own."

"Way o' de world. 'Sides, killin' him's too good. I've got somet'in' mo' interestin' planned. Bit o' justice."

She smiles wickedly. "Least I c'n do f'r 'im."

"See, now I'm interested." Atton grins.

She smiles, her eyes sharp as razors. "He got m' husband exiled over a year ago. Merely goan return de favor. He's worm food inna year, so no sense killin' him when I c'n break him 'n' watch his face as he realizes he's not'in' anymo'. Jes' a corpse too stupid t' lay down."

"Cruel," Shrug. "But he sounds like he deserves it."

She makes a face. "Oui. He's not even supposed t' be alive. Got brought back t' life specifically t' steal m' power. So, no sense in mercy. He ain't goan have none f'r me if he wins."

"'Course." Atton nods.

The arrival of food seems to brighten her mood considerably. "'Sides, he pulled m' hair one too many times as a kid."

It's meant as a joke, because the real reason she hates him so much is too mind breaking for her to contemplate.

"Ah, well. That's an even better reason, y'know?" Grin. "Can't go messing with the hair, after all."

"Damn right."

Her smile is wide and easy, before she begins to eat. "Y' got any real family?"

Best to find out about as many of the people invading her home as possible, after all.