(no subject)

[valiantrebel]

[OOM: Practice talking to girls]

Trapped. That's what Harry's been these many weeks past, and of his own doing too -- that's not to be denied. The more he must smile and bow and expend his manners, the more he wishes for a horse and a sword and a Scottish border raid. When a door in Philippa de Coucy's house opens into Milliways instead of yet another solar full of nursemaids and noble daughters, to say his relief is palpable is only to concede to the limits of language.

So, though his hair is combed and he's trussed up in his finest visiting suit, it's a pretty good time to meet young Harry Percy. He's making a beeline for the Bar, intent on trying some new food or drink that's beyond the scope of his era. Go on. Ask him how his quest for a wife is going.

11 PM CST Oh no, guys! You're wonderful; I have to go to sleep. Will tag up tomorrow!

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Interesting get-up."

Not that Ellen can really talk, given that she's wearing the reinforced jumpsuit she got from Moira.

"It looks as if you've had a long day or two."

[valiantrebel]

Harry gives Ellen an amused once-over. "I might say as much of thee. Is all that for courting as well?"

He heaves an exaggerated sigh. "A long several weeks, i'faith. A more gruesome and grueling campaign has never yet been waged; I am making my introductions to the young ladies of all the kingdom."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Oh, no, for that I'd likely be in my armor," says Ellen. "I only have two suits of clothing, and this is one of them. I've been out riding today."

But then she winces sympathetically. "I'm so sorry. That must be... trying? If there are a lot of them, anyway."

[valiantrebel]

"Riding? In what?" Would she mean one of those machines which Harry still needs to see (oops)?

He grooooooans. "More young ladies than there are grains of sand in Jerusalem! I've not an inkling where they all have come from, though sure they must have been hiding somewhere as we both came of age."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Not in, on," Ellen says. "We haven't got horses in my part of the world, so I've broken a cow to the saddle and bridle. I know it's a bit silly sounding, but it's faster than walking, especially when I've got a long way to go."

Then she laughs. "Oh, they've probably been around and you just never noticed them before because they weren't important to you then," she says. "I hope they're older than the one your father originally suggested, though!"

[hadyougoing]

Later verbiage will elaborate on what a truly terrible mindfuck Ava's week has been. In the meantime, she's at the Bar herself, sucking down liquid courage (caffeine) before she heads off to intern.

She's still on probation.

The sight of Harry makes her blink, then crack a faint smile. (Seriously, she looks like she has not slept well in awhile.)

What can she say? She digs an old-fashioned getup.

[valiantrebel]

It is a silly outfit. Give the man his leather pants and jacket any day (no, really). But he's just too darned cheerful at the prospect of escaping the de Coucy household to care too much.

He strides up to the counter (bow legged as always) and rests both hands on the wood as though Bar was a particularly beloved horse. "Good my lady, I am well pleased to see thee! What surprise shall we have this visit?"

[hadyougoing]

... Okay, chalk it up to stress and perhaps a lingering magical hangover.

Ava starts laughing into her mug.

[valiantrebel]

If he was another sort of man, he'd be offended!

Instead he examines the lady and lets himself grin crookedly. "Send'st thou mockeries? Forsooth, I have enough of my own."

[hadyougoing]

Ava blinks a moment, then promptly bursts into more laughter.

"I'm sorry," she exclaims.

"I am definitely not mocking you."

[sunbaked_baker]

There are warm, spicy smells coming from beyond the kitchen door, when Harry Percy approaches the bar. It's approximately another five minutes, though, before the kitchen door opens and allows a gust of warm air and cinnamony scent, as well as a red-headed baker carrying a tray of skull-sized cinnamon rolls, into the room.

[valiantrebel]

They say the way to a man's heart is straight through his stomach. Harry's eyes go wide at the vision before him. He goes a little weak-kneed too, which is not at all why he leans against the counter, almost in supplication.

"Lady, I know not who you are, but I'd swear fealty to your kitchens in a heartbeat, if my nose does not deceive me."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae's eyebrows go up slightly at the supplication. Today she has her hair held back by a kerchief, sky blue and dotted with sunflowers. The sweater she wears is deep green, which goes well with the purple jeans she's wearing (her sneakers - orange).

If she were meaner, she'd make some remark to the effect that the Cinnamon Roll Queen is pleased by so pious and heartfelt a declaration. Or some other smartass remark. But Sunshine has been in Milliways long enough to know that sometimes, something that would've automatically (and safely) be considered sarcasm or hyperbole in her world is completely heartfelt when uttered here.

Instead, she smiles and says, "Well, noses are very seldom deceived. Would you like a cinnamon roll?"

[valiantrebel]

"Would that my soul should ascend to Heaven! If that is the vehicle, then I would indeed."

[sunbaked_baker]

Okay, so maybe Sunshine isn't as impervious to flattery as she claims.

She grins. "And if it doesn't do anything to your soul, but merely tastes really good, would you still want one?"

Ignore that she's already putting the tray down and taking up one of the small paper plates and napkins. She baked the things, so she's allowed to give away the occasional free cinnamon roll if she so chooses.

[gavin62truck]

Tommy shoves the front door open.

No cigarettes, no booze, no sex -- this combination makes him exceptionally grumpy.

He doesn't even know why he comes in here anymore.

"Coffee," he barks at the Bar.

She obliges. She's usually tolerant of his moods. (Usually.)

[valiantrebel]

Harry gives the new fellow a bemused side-eye. There's something reassuring about a man spoiling for a fight. Refreshing, after the company he's been keeping.

"Is it good?" He nods toward the coffee.

[gavin62truck]

The kid also gets a side-eye -- except it's more of a the fuck are you even wearing kind of squint.

"Yeah," he grunts before taking a sip. "Better than what I can get at home and the Bar knows exactly how I like it."

[valiantrebel]

He asks himself the very same question, never fear.

"Well, as I've not had it before..." He taps the counter, and Bar also obliges. It smells delicious -- more so than Regan Tam's tea, he'll wager -- but the taste is more bitter than he'd expected, and he cannot help but show it in his face.

[gavin62truck]

Yep, Tommy takes his coffee black.

He chuffs out an amused noise.

"Yeah, that's what it's supposed to taste like. You can have it with milk or cream and sugar to take the edge off, though. Or get it with some mocha-almond-caramel-mint flavor bullshit."

[thenewblack]

Artemis comes in from a run out back and heads for the bar, shedding her jacket and pulling at her shirt to get it unstuck.

The narration is reasonably certain that should be distracting.

[valiantrebel]

By his own standards, Harry's much more of an adult man than others at 17.

But he's still 17. And he will stare. Appreciatively. And openly.

'Zounds, he enjoys this place!

[thenewblack]

"Eyes up Buddy," says the view, "Or buy me dinner. Both'd be good."

[valiantrebel]

"Have I caused offense?" He spreads his hands and makes a point of meeting her eye, with his usual smirk. "Good my lady, I did but mark what crossed my path."

[thenewblack]

"Lot of guys want to see with their hands instead of their eyes," she says, "It's good to cut that off where you can."