milliways_bar | (no subject)

The smell of baking from the kitchen precedes Sunshine by a good five minutes. When she does come into the bar, she's carrying a couple of good-sized baskets of bread (rosemary/garlic, basil/cracked wheat, strawberry/pecan) and cinnamon rolls. These she leaves at the bar with notes for Demeter and Sirona.

A few cinnamon rolls she keeps for herself, munching on one as she writes another note.

Finishing that, she looks around briefly, at something of a loss. She'd not pretend to be an expert on inter-dimentional kleptomaniac taverns, but Sunshine hasn't come upon this particular bit of information before. "How does one reach Security anyway?" Rae asks Bar. "Should I just leave it with you and hope someone comes by to get it?"

Mel's not sitting far away from bar, and she also has super hearing.

So she clears her throat, and crosses her legs, raising the Security badge on her hip to a higher line of sight.

(On Bar, there appears a napkin in front of Sunshine. It is folded into an arrow shape. The arrow is aligned to point at Mel's table.)

Sunshine tilts her head at the arrow, before following it with her gaze.

Pause.

"Oh." She smiles. "That's simple enough, I guess. Hi."

"Hi."

Now, Mel looks up, and closes the book in front of her.

"Something's up?"

She brings the still-warm cinnamon rolls over with her. "Mind if I join you?"

"I met Jane Austen the other day," which Sunshine briefly reflects is a sentence she never thought she'd say, "and she'd been attacked by something."

Some-thing or -one? She never really knows which to say.

Is Mel supposed to know who Jane Austen is? She doesn't.

She does know that she's hungry for cinnamon roll. It's a hunger that dictates the direction of her gaze.

"Some thing?2 Mel repeats. "You know what kinda thing?"

Sunshine is always willing to share her famous Cinnamon-Rolls-As-Big-As-Your-Head. She smiles faintly as she sits, and nudges the plate towards Mel in an offer to share.

"Well, it left deep teethmarks in her neck, and left her pale and weak from blood loss?" Sunshine doesn't sound too happy about this. "I know where my mind goes."

She cuts off those thoughts, though, because lately they've always been ending up on the same ten-second memory: one which she doesn't want to think about.

Mel stills, giant roll halfway to her mouth and smell filling her nostrils. It brings a surreally pleasant sensation to the situation.

"Jesu," she mutters.

And a list of names lines up in her head. It takes some effort not to scratch her own neck, which is under a high collared halter neck shirt, covering any and all scarring that certain boyfriends have not been privvy to yet.

"She give a name?"

Sunshine's own shirt doesn't exactly cover up the shiny scar across the upper-left portion of her chest, just below her collarbone. The other bruises and scrapes on her body are healing, though some of the scrapes still itch annoyingly.

"She didn't remember anything of what happened. Just said she was in the library the other night, then woke up the next morning with bite-marks on her neck and her hair all mussed, pale and feeling weak. I took her to the infirmary to make sure she was all right, apart from blood loss."