(no subject)

[slayer_fray]

Your Security Officer for the evening comes into the bar from the Staff Quarters, hops on to the bar at that end, and then walks on her hands for the entire length of the bar, interupted only by the occasional cartwheel or somersault. Then she flips onto a stool at the far end and orders herself a Tequila and a plate of fried paradoxes.

They are delicious.

Comments

[not-his-son.livejournal.com]

They look complicated. But they smell delicious.

"What're those?" Jason asks, swivelling on his stool to face her and gesturing at her foods.

He's still sullen about having been dragged back here. He only just stormed out! Well, okay, a couple weeks ago, but he still doesn't approve.

[slayer_fray]

"Fried paradox."

Heads up, Jay. One is being thrown your way.

Mel gives him a cheeky grin, with only a faint quirk to it as she tries to assess how he's doing.

[not-his-son.livejournal.com]

"Huh."



He apparently finds it adequate. And tasty. She gets a thumbs up for it.

"How you doing here, anyway?"

[slayer_fray]

A shrug fills the gap while Mel decides whether to tell the truth or not.

She decides for it, on this occasion.

"I'm alive. No news is good, I guess."

[not-his-son.livejournal.com]

"Still waitin' about your sister?" Jay asks, reaching for another paradox. "Look, you want me t'go ask around for you? It's in my time, right?"

[slayer_fray]

"You mind?"

Mel's pushed the plate into the space between them, and Bar wisely keeps the plate warm and full. "Be nice to know how she's getting on."

Or what she remembers.

"Universes don't exactly have visiting hours."

[not-his-son.livejournal.com]

Jay nods. "You want to come, then? I don't mind."

Might be more fun than running around Gotham alone, anyway.

[slayer_fray]

Mel's eyebrows shoot up just before a grin breaks out.

"Really?"

Seeing Steph would be the greatest. "Lemme get these boxed."

And of course, Bar obliges.

[not-his-son.livejournal.com]

Jay grins in return, amused by her enthusiasm. And pleased by her smile.

"It's cold out. You might wanna coat as well." He gets up too, lazily. "Frankly I'm just as glad t'get out of this place too."

[slayer_fray]

"Can't move so well in coats," Mel says, though what kind of moving is needed in a hospital isn't obvious. Bar gives her a pair of long fingerless gloves instead, that cover her bare arms to above the elbow.

"Bar, tell Mike I'm heading out, K?"

To Jason a wry half-smirk, "wear off, did it?"

[not-his-son.livejournal.com]

"No fucking kidding." Jason scowls viciously as he shoves open the door (http://not-his-son.livejournal.com/1276.html).

[hey35andholding]

Clementine, ex-gymnast that she is, is impressed with any acrobatic displays. She applauds Mel once the display's over. "I could never stick a landing like that," she calls over.

[slayer_fray]

Mel looks up, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Any landing with sak at the end of it's a good landing."

[hey35andholding]

"Any landing where you don't bust open your face is a good one." Clementine acknowledges. "I used to do gymnastics when I was a kid."

[slayer_fray]

"Yeah?" Mel asks, tilting the dish of paradoxes Clem's way in invitation to join her. "Why'd you quit?"

[hey35andholding]

"I got so top-heavy when I was thirteen that they'd dq me before I'd get on the mat."

She takes a paradox and chomps one down. The taste is really...different. Not bad. And very good with her beer.

"...I ended up quitting school and running off to Branson to be a showgirl."

[slayer_fray]

"Cause you couldn't do gymnastics?"

Cause really, that sounds a little harsh.

[hey35andholding]

"They thought I was a ringer," Clem explains. "No one believed I was thirteen once these puppies started popping - I was so top-heavy they thought I was sixteen."

Intramural gymnastics are serious business.

[OOC: The fun of trying to explain Reno canon! Headed to bed, picking up tags tonight!]

[slayer_fray]

Mel blinks.

"Damn. An' I thought I was screwed when I was kicked out of rocketboarding comps."

[hey35andholding]

"Eh, screw them," she shrugs dismissively. "Rules were made to be broken...for the most part." She's aware of Mel's badge and, of course, her own uniform. "Rocketboarding?" she wonders.

[slayer_fray]

Oh yeah, right. Most people are from the past.

"Like skateboarding," Mel says with a mouthful of paradox, and holding a hand out flat - hovering over the bar to simulate a board. "But it flies."

[hey35andholding]

She might as well be from the 70's, considering how advanced the technology is at the station. "Do you ride them out here, or do you just do that where you come from?" Clementine is highly intrigued, and she's never turned down an adventure when it's in the offering.

[slayer_fray]

"Neither," Mel says. "Had a magic rug here, but ity got shot down in Cairo. Haven't jumped on a board back home since I was fourteen."

Gah, notif fail, sorry!

[hey35andholding]

Clementine raises an eyebrow. "If I had one of those things, I'd never get off of it."

...She'd likely immediately fall off and dent her hair, but she'd have fun while she was up there.

"I'm guessing you're not from '04."

Not a problem in the slightest!

[slayer_fray]

"'97', Mel replies, leaving a suitable beat before adding: "2297."