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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"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.

With relish: "I know, isn't it?"

Let no one ever accuse him of having self-esteem issues.

"Check this out -- " Pushing his plate aside for a second, he rubs his hands together, shakes them out, clears his throat, rubs his hands together again...

(Let no one accuse him of lacking theatricality, either.)

And with a snap of his fingers, a bouquet of icing flowers materializes in his hand.

He offers them to Ingress with a flourish.

"Why, thank you," she says with a grin, and she takes the bouquet.

She's delighted, of course. It's a cute trick.

(Tom could totally do that, though, too, if he wished to contribute to the sugaring of a minor. Ah, how jaded we become...)

Ingress bites a rose and grins. She's starting to get giggly from the syrup and the icing.

"It is entirely," he intones, "my pleasure, kiddo."

Maybe this has secretly been an elaborate prank on her parents all along?

Naaaah.

...Okay, not that much of one.

Now that is a fine prank.

Ingress nibbles on a rose and slides off the barstool.

"I have to go home now. Thanks for the roses! They are delicious."

The pancakes were, too. Mmmmmmmm sugar rush.

"You're very welcome!" He waggles his fingers in a wave. "Take care, maybe I'll see you around again, huh?"

She nods and bites off another rose.

"Probably," she says through a mouthful of icing. Then she grins and skips off towards the House of Arch painting.

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