milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The door isn't back yet, but that isn't a bad thing for the teenager who has taken over a table near the bar. Not a bad thing at all. Neither is the fact that most of his injuries and bruises have faded from their ugly purples and reds to just faint greens and yellows.

There is a piece of paper (with names on it) tucked into his vest pocket. He's kicked back in his chair, feet propped up on the chair across, and he's occasionally drinking from the bottle of ale he managed to swipe off someone's table when he came downstairs. They're not missing it, so there's no harm in it, in his eyes.

He's got a look in his eyes like he's in the middle of coming up with a really great (or really dangerous and exciting) idea, and a smug little smile on his face as he watches the room. He is looking for marks, but, he's always doing that. And tonight, there are more important things to think about.

Like how to swipe another ale.

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Very potential opportunity here.

Han studies her awhile, watching, figuring out how long the songs tend to average, and once she's lost in the middle of one, he moves from his seat and strolls past the booth, hand moving to attempt the swipe.

She opens one eye and glares balefully at him. "Do it and I'll fucking kill you." Her tone of voice indicates that this statement is a hyperbole: she might give Han a new bruise or two, but she won't actually kill him or even maim him very much.

"It's okay if you run up a tab. Hell, I think the Bar doesn't even charge people under a certain age." She's pretty sure the would-be thief is 'under a certain age.' "But you're not going to make any friends lifting other people's stuff."

Han stops and turns to her, giving her his best winning smile.

"Wasn't actually gonna take it," he says. "Was just testin' to see if you were payin' attention, that's all. So, uh," his hand slides away from the beer. "Good job."

YT chuckles. "Take some acting classes, then come back and try again."

So she caught him.

"All right," he says, giving her a wink. "Can I ask what gave it away? S'a learnin' process, after all..."

Han just scored himself a brownie point with YT. Most people aren't that interested in bettering themselves. Of course, she doesn't want to be responsible for him trying something really stupid and getting himself killed.

"As long as you promise not to use my teachings for evil purposes, sure," YT says, sliding her legs off the table and switching off her iPod.

"Promise."

Of course, he might be lying, but he's been good at that for years now, weaseling his way out of situations and sticky spots.

"I don't do...evil."

"Just trouble," YT says sarcastically. "Okay. It's because of where I'm sitting. It's kind of dark in the booth, but the rest of the bar is pretty brightly lit." She gestures at the bar at large. "It's bright enough to get the light through my eyelids. You got between me and the light," she concludes. "I also just know how to keep good track of my surroundings. I surf traffic for a living. If you don't learn to notice when something's coming up on you, you end up as a chunky stain on the freeway."

Han makes note of the light and the darkness, and the shadow he's casting on the booth from where he's standing, and he nods.

"You race or just for gettin' to work or somethin'?"

"It is my work, dude. I'm a Kourier." (It sounds, of course, just like the word 'courier'.) "That's how I do deliveries. I hop on my skateboard, snag a car with a magnetic harpoon, and ride it wherever I need to go."

[OOC: I must go to bed now, but I hope we can continue this later!]

Han thinks this sounds totally astral and lights up.

"Skateboard?"

[ooc: yes! this is much fun. :D]

"Yeah. Hold on." YT ducks under the table for a moment and comes back up with the aforementioned skateboard, which matches the orange and blue of her coverall. It has a RadiKS logo decal on top, and includes some features you wouldn't find on the average skateboard, like toe buttons, a sensor node in the front, a small LED screen and wheels with tiny treads. It's also got something that looks like a wide-angle intergalactic death ray clipped to a couple of brackets in the bottom.

"Behold the plank. It's got Mark VIII smartwheels," YT says, tapping the treads. "Basically, all these little treads are segments on little telescoping arms. They pull up for bumps and push out for potholes and stuff, so I have a smooth ride and don't lose momentum. Or, you know, hit a detached fender in the middle of the road and wipe out."

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