milliways_bar | (no subject)

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will scarlett

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Today, Stark sits at the bar enjoying something entirely new to him again.

He has frosting on his fingers and mouth, as he has been eating some chocolate-frosted cupcakes in a rather uncivilized manner.

"Sugar, sugar!" he says, nearly enraptured in glee. "Why did Crichton not talk more of this?"

[tiny tag: Stark]

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Will grins into his ice cream,

"Careful o'the cold, sir."

"Why does it do that?" Stark whimpers.

"I'm na sure, sir, just does. Ne'er 'ad it 'fore comin' 'ere anyways."

Stark whimpers a little more. After a moment, he goes back to eating his ice cream, slowly.

"It is an interesting mix of flavors and textures."

"Oh aye, sir an comes in loads o'different flavors too."

"Much like the cereal," Stark says. "So many, many variations on this sugar."

"Cereal, sir, 'avena tried much o'that."

"You have not?" Stark says. He fiddles with the spoon for a moment, staring at his reflection in it. "Did your mother also forbid you from it?"

"Oh nay, sir, na at all. I'm just from an earlier time so different sorts o'sweets is all. More pastry an 'rhaps porridge with fruit an syrup in it as a treat."

"You are from a more primitive Earth?" Stark says, snickering.

He thought Earth was pretty primitive to begin with.

Will's quiet and eats, the snickering is rude but well he knows his time is earlier than many here,

"Just an earlier time is all, sir."

"Yet you seem quite familiar with this advanced technology," Stark says. "Your species is so adaptive."

"Been findin' door 'ere for 'bout a year, sir, do me best."

Stark sniggers into his ice cream. "Your mode of speech is quite unique."

"Aye, sir."

Will just keeps eating, he's sore and not up for an argument.

Stark isn't trying for an argument.

"I am grateful for your assistance in my studies," he says, eating more of the ice cream. "Though I should not eat much more of this sugar."

"Tis other good things, sir, depends what ye like. 'ave ye tried any o'the drinks 'ere?"

"I have not, not yet begun to try the Earth drinks," Stark admits, pushing the ice cream away from him. He whimpers a bit, having given himself another bit of an ice cream headache. He presses a hand to his temple.

"Bit o'tea or ale might 'elp with that, sir."

"Tea, yes," Stark says. "Is there special Earth kinds?"

"Na sure, sir, since dinna know what ye 'ave. Tis lots o'different sorts."

Stark drums his chin with his fingers. "What would you believe is the most typical of Earth teas?"

"Black tea, sir."

Bar produces a couple of small pots of different teas labeled so Stark and Will can read them.

"Fascinating," Stark says, observing the pots.

"Tis leaves that are steepin', sir. Guess Lady Bar wished ye to try a few sorts."