milliways_bar | (no subject)

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So first the gates of Hell open.

Then the Weekly World News shuts down.

Then it turns out the Winchester brothers, Señor Muttonhead and Muttonhead Junior, are the ones responsible for bullet point A up there?

Man, this is the worst fall ever.

Sulking, he scoops up a bite of waffle -- okay, more like a tiny island of cooked dough in an Atlantic-sized sea of maple syrup -- and eyes Milliways at large. Maybe he should tie a couple of metaphorical shoelaces together or something. Pranks always make him feel better.

(Hey, don't judge. He's a trickster. He's allowed!)

[OOC: as per usual, slowtimes are highly likely, but! Post is open until it scrolls.]

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"Oh, thanks," she says, turning around. She waggles the tentacles and makes the mouth flap a high-pitched, "Thanks, mister!"

Ingress is great with fighting. With throwing her voice? Not so much.

Okay, so sue him, maybe his soft spot for kids extends a little ways beyond Anna Milton.

Or maybe she just reminds him of Anna a little. Whichever.

Twirling his fork in an imitation of a bow, "It's my pleasure, kiddo. What's your name?"

"I'm Ingress," she says, with a big grin.

Ingress has a knack for getting along with tricksters. It must be the mischievous streak.

"Wow, that's a lot of syrup," she continues in a voice that indicates her approval.

...Oh yeah, he definitely likes her.

"Best way to eat a waffle," he declares with a grin. "Drown it 'til it's screaming for mercy. Want any?"

"Sure!!!"

Oh, wait, stranger rule, be careful, blah blah blah. She did promise she'd be careful. However, instead of a milkshake, she'll stay long enough for a waffle!

"Actually, I'll get my own. Then you won't have to miss out on any of your extra syrup."

Bar helpfully provides a serving of waffles and a small container of syrup for Ingress to liberally douse upon them. She slides onto the seat beside him and starts pouring.

"What are you called?"

"Eh, I've gotten called a lot of stuff," he says, waving his fork around airily.

(Not all of it polite, but that's neither here nor there and not fit for kid-sized ears anyway.)

"How about Loki? You can call me that if you want."

"Okay, Loki."

That's a fun name to say.

"Okee-loki," she says, and giggles at her joke. "Sorry. That's a kid thing to say."

"Hey, you're allowed," he says graciously. "It's a good one. I like it."

Of course, he also thinks people slipping on banana peels is hysterical, so.

"You do?"

If he produces glitter or wings at any point, Ingress will add him to her BFF-Trickster-Posse!

"Cool."

"So what brings you here tonight, Ingress?" He pops another tiny fragment of something that's more syrup than waffle in his mouth. "Besides the absolutely amazing waffles Bar likes to cook up?"

"Oh, I come in for dessert most nights. I have rules about being careful and only staying long enough for dessert, but I've been coming here since I was quite small."

She's an old hand at this Milliways thing.

"Really? How small are we talking about? Ant-small, kitten-small...?"

She could totally school him the 'knowing the Milliways' ropes, for sure.

She giggles. "Kid small. I was five the first time my big sister brought me here."

"Wow."

He lets out an impressed whistle.

"And -- wait, wait, let me guess." He rubs his palms together and squinches his eyes shut, affecting a look of great concentration. "You're...ten now?"

"Eleven," she corrects. "You were close, though. I only just had my birthday."

"So close," he agrees, in half of a mock groan, as he opens his eyes and drops his hands. One lifts half a second later to twirl, idly. "I must be losing my touch. But hey, happy birthday! How was it?"

"Special," she says, with a soft smile. "I mean, it was really good."

Eleven is one of those special ages, it seems to her.

"I had a lot of fun."

"Good," he declares, punctuating it with a firm nod. "Glad to hear it. Not much point to a birthday unless it's gonna be fun."

And then he brightens.

"Was there cake?"

He does not have a one-track mind. Shut up.

"Was there ever," she laughs. "Tom always brings me a giant cake. With lots of extra icing roses for me to swipe off. Puck helped me this time; I think we got nearly all of them this time."

"Nice job," he says appreciatively. "The roses? Are the best."

Someday, he is going to invent a cake and have it consist of nothing but icing roses.

Or hey, screw the cake part of the cake, he'll just make one completely out of icing.

"Oh my gosh, they so are."

If Loki made a cake of icing roses and Ingress caught wind it, they might have to be BFF.

"You're pretty smart for a grown up. About cakes and sweets and all."

"Well, I am a whole lot older than most of the other grown-ups around here," he allows with a magnanimous sweep of his hand. "I've got a whole wealth of expertise they're missing out on."

"Oooooh," she says. "You must be a god or an angel or someone like that, since you don't look so very old."

"Bingo on the first one," he says with an easy grin as he points to her. "That, and I've got a great skin care regimen."

She snickers and does not say, 'So does Tom' because Door is super serious about keeping that just between themselves when Tom can't hear.

"That's cool."

Ingress has been meeting deities since she was five. If she sounds blase, it's because she is.