milliways_bar | (no subject)

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When Ava stops by the bar for some Friday night raspberry-lemonade-and-vodka, it comes along with a small cardboard box, addressed To: Ava and From: Elle.

Her eyes narrow fractionally, since last time they hadn't exactly parted on the world's greatest terms, and she shakes the box suspiciously before asking Bar for an x-acto knife. One delicate slit in the tape later, and she is prying the thing open to discover a toy London phone booth.

Ava blinks. (The knife disappears.)

And, after a moment, she begins to giggle.

She's not sure she gets the joke, but this thing is kinda cute.

[ooc: open until whenever, y'all. I got a paper to procrastinate on.]

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"It's still funny even though you're not in on the joke?" Liz asks, a little dubiously. She rests her camera on the bar.

Ava smiles wryly.

"Well, she's kind of a weirdo ... I say that with love." A beat. "Mostly."

Liz half-smiles, more with one side of her mouth than the other. "It was Ava, right?"

"Yes!"

Ava looks pleased, and then guilty.

"Uhh ... did it start with R?"

"... Nope," she says, her smile widening a little more. "Liz." She gives a small wave.

Edited 2010-03-31 03:27 (UTC)

Ava gives her an embarrassed grimace.

"Sorry! Hi Liz! I remember I thought you were a cat-burglar but you actually, like. Fight ghosts?"

Go go gadget memory!

Cat burglar.

Cat burglar?

"...Cat burglar?" asks Liz.

"Maybe I just thought that part in my head," Ava says quickly.

Liz is just going to go ahead and let that one pass on by. "I'm an agent in paranormal stuff, yeah," she says instead. ("Paranormal stuff" may not be the official designation, but it's one of the simpler explanations.)

"You haven't been hit by any more bad poetry written in blood, have you?" The set of her mouth takes a turn for the wry, though it's more in memory of the bad rhyme scheme than actually finding that particular haunting amusing.

She always did mean to check up on that again.

"Not to my knowledge?" Ava says, with another wince.

"I mean-- weird costumes, werewolf fever, vampires? But no more poetry written in blood."

She recalls that it's the second time she's heard 'paranormal' and 'agent' in the same context lately, but it is Milliways.

At any rate, her last statement seems to cheer her; she takes a sip of her drink.

"Uhhh. How are you?"

Weird costumes are a given in Milliways; the fact that there are vampires here is slightly unsettling but not all that surprising, either. The third point, though...

"Um, fine," says Liz, her hand still resting on her camera. "Werewolf fever?"

"It did different things," Ava assures her, though how this statement might be considered reassuring is anyone's guess. "My friend thought she was a coke addict!"

She adds quickly, "She's not in real life. Umm. But anyway, yeah, I had a fever of a hundred and werewolf, and all these memories that definitely were not mine, and I started dressing like early-era Britney and sleazily hitting on strangers. It was so weird."

Something about this is beginning to ring some bizarre, half-remembered bell somewhere in Liz's head.

Her eyebrows firmly furrowed, she asks, slow, "When was this?"

"Like last Halloween," Ava breezes.

"I heard it was some kind of disease ... I guess it was more interesting than a cold."

And just like that, it -- whatever it was -- is gone.

(It's probably for the best.)

"I guess I got off easy, then," Liz says. "And I thought the haircut was bad."

It was definitely an improvement over the Halloween that the bar put her in clothes that weren't black and gave her blonde and pink hair.

Ava blinks.

"Haircut?"

Beat.

"This was the weirdest flu ever!"

"It's the whole bizarro Halloween tradition," she says over the rim of her glass of water, resting her chin in her other hand. "Costumes and hair changes whether you like it or not. My hair was this long." On this, she holds her thumb and forefinger about three inches apart.

"I've never heard of a flu being involved, though. Or werewolves."

Edited 2010-04-03 04:07 (UTC)

At the hair demonstration, Ava makes sort of a scrunchy face of trying to see the bright side of a bad hair day.

"That ... could've been cute .... maybe?" she suggests.

A sigh.

"The werewolf stuff was not fun. I ate a rabbit. Raw! I am scarred for life!"

Hey: If Liz knows all about ghosts, how come she couldn't tell she was dead?

Things to ponder.

"Wait, you actually became a werewolf?"

"NO," Ava says.

"I just thought I was one. I don't even remember how I ate the rabbit and I don't want to, I just remember its guts were all stringy in my mouth ..."

Ewwwwwwwwwwww.

"It tasted like sulfur and death," she whimpers.

That's ... unsettling.

"You said a fever did this?"

(Ava causes a lot of long pauses.)

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