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[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

(OOM: It has been ten years.

To the day.

And here's something the fable left out:

That urn also counts to the second.)

The front door is flung open and someone enters at a near run - someone with a leather trenchcoat and entirely too much jewelry and a thing for classy leather shoes.

Someone who's lean, hungry look could get him mistaken for a wolf, if he grows that hair out any longer.

Someone... who is just going to stand there and blink for a moment, if that is quite alright with everyone.

(OOC: Spoilers for Sorcerer's Apprentice in the OOM, and... most likely in threads. :D)

Comments

[lifeisacatch]

"It is always cats and tongues here, it seems."

The white-haired woman in maroon leather appears amused, at the least.

"Perhaps they've gotten to your legs too. That would be something to see!"

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

He blinks at her, shakes his head, and blinks again.

"Are people often fooled by that?" He finally asks, because he honestly does forget, sometimes, what normal humans see.

[lifeisacatch]

Flemeth's laugh is deep and rough, resonating far down in her chest.

"Are people easily fooled, he asks. That is the sound of one who has not met many people!"

To be fair, it works better when she's the crazy old woman who lives in a swamp.

But this way is funnier.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

He was trained by a crazy old man who lived in a forest, before (and sometimes, regrettably, while) becoming the king's sorcerer. The laughter is familiar.

"Say rather someone who still has an open mind, madam." His tone is a few degrees more respectful, if only in that crazy old man's memory.

[lifeisacatch]

"Have a mind too open and all the common sense will fall out. Still, you're polite, and not many are."

Her smile is wide and just this side of mocking.

"Sit, sit. You are taking up too much of the floor. And I would rather not get a crick in my neck."

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"Yes, ma'am." He slides into a chair, but is still mildly fidgety. Very fidgety.

Look, he's been in an urn for ten years.

[lifeisacatch]

"So fidgety!"

Flemeth has never been much for tact.

"Almost as if you were plagued by illusionary ants. And old trick but a good one, that! Hah."

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

Not one he's tried in the last century... or two. Or three. Merlin hadn't been terribly amused.

"My apologies - I have been... somewhat sedentary for a long period of time."

Fighting one's arch nemesis / ex-best friend for ten years in an urn doesn't exactly give you the chance to stretch your legs.

[lifeisacatch]

"Somewhat sedentary, he says."

Flemeth laughs again, though this time she keeps looking straight at him.

"Are you sure you were not asleep?"

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"Very much so." Asleep would have been good. Asleep would have been restful. Asleep wouldn't have been ten years hoping that his one hope wasn't getting slaughtered by a Morganian somewhere. Asleep wouldn't have been having to read David Stutler's book reports umpteen million times.

[lifeisacatch]

"But what is surety worth, after all?"

Okay, now she's smirking.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"Mostly? Ten years of reading the same horrible book report over and over between fights." Bathazar retorts dryly.

[lifeisacatch]

"Ten years, is it? Interesting."

She taps her mouth with the tip of one armored finger.

"But now you are here and free, what shall you do? Seek out other fights? It would do wonders for your fidgeting!"

[sunbaked_baker]

While he's standing by the door, Balthazar may notice familiar scents coming from the kitchen.

Dusty tome open behind her, Rae is perched on the edge of the table in the kitchen, gently moving her hand to keep containers of dried rosemary, sage, thyme and parsley quietly turning about one another in mid-air. Warm smells of cinnamon and sugar and dough are coming from the oven, while a tray of Sunshine's Eschatology cools on a wire rack by the window.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

He's starving. He's been in an urn for ten years, and during those ten years, alternately keeping track of and fending off Maxim Horvath.

It's a miracle he isn't drooling as he pauses in the doorway, watching her.

[sunbaked_baker]

The spices hover, turning and spinning and somersaulting around one another in the air. Every so often, Rae changes their direction - how about rotating vertically, towards her? Or shuffling among themselves while turning end-over-end? She's concentrating on keeping the transitions smooth, not letting her control on the objects falter. With her focus elsewhere, and with the dull roar of the ovens' vents, she doesn't hear Balthazar in the doorway behind her.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"Are one of those for me?" He finally asks, eying the baked treats covetously.

Actually, he's not just eying one treat. He's pretty sure he could put away a tray of them with very little trouble.

Ten years. Think about it.

[sunbaked_baker]

The moment he speaks, her concentration breaks, and the spices slip. It's only at the last moment that she catches them again to set them down gently on the counter.

Rae looks over at Balthazar, taking in his appearance. Same clothes.... and he looks mostly the same... but...

"Yeah, take what you want," she says, frowning slightly in concern. "And the cinnamon rolls'll be out any minute now. What happened to you?"

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

He takes her at her word, grabbing a plate and helping himself to one of the cooling treats.

... Two of them.

He's debating a third as he bites into the first, making a happy little sound of 'oh dear God yes'. He'll answer as soon as he's not got a mouth full of food.

She might want to get persistent if she wants an answer.

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae watches him eat, and even the slight smile at his reaction is subdued. He must be ravenous, to eat like that. What has been happening to him in the few days since she last saw him?

If he's going to answer, he has to have an empty mouth... and it doesn't look like that's going to be any time soon, so she doesn't press the point. When the oven timer goes ding! two minutes later, she moves to pull the trays of skull-sized cinnamon rolls out of the oven and onto the cooling racks.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"My apologies." He finally says, between bites of deliciousness, once the initial need for something right now has been met. "It's been ten years. I'm a bit late for supper."

[sunbaked_baker]

"What do you mean it's been ten years?" she asks, pulling off the oven mitts.

Since he'd been to Milliways last (gods, that was... just a few days ago), or since he's eaten?

How would that even be possible?

"You need something more substantial than desserts and cinnamon rolls, then," Rae says, decisively, turning towards the stove.

She'll be going for the protein. There are eggs and spinach and mushrooms and cheese in the fridge. It only takes a couple of minutes to make a (frankly beautiful) three-egg omelet with spinach, mushrooms and cheese aplenty. There'll also be tea.

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

Beautiful is an understatement. It is drop dead gorgeous (http://littlecitycatering.com/content/management/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/Mushroom-and-Spinach-Omelet.jpg).

And yes. That rumble was from his stomach. All of him agrees on how good that thing looks. And smells. Oh lord, how good it smells.

"Ten years in an urn. To the day." He explains, briefly, before diving into that omelet.







He'll be a minute.

[sunbaked_baker]

He can't be serious.

Rae stares at him. The problem is, his matter-of-fact answer leaves no room for doubting it's veracity.


"What were you doing in an urn, Balthazar?"

[777thdegree.livejournal.com]

"Keeping the Prime Merlinian from being killed by Horvath." He replies between bites. "The boy was right - I found him, and then there was a battle. He accidentally let Horvath out of the Grimhold. I had to trap Horvath to keep him from realizing what the boy was."