milliways_bar | (no subject)

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"But musing what an easy thing it were to mix our opiates in a larger cup," Autor says, patting the counter in preparation to hop over it. "And drink, and not perceive"—and here he hops—"sleep deepening lead his truer kinsman up, like undistinguished Night, darkening the skirts of Eve.*"

After a few minutes of setting up his prior preparations, the boy reaches for the specials board. "Good night, Bar."

Bitter Chocolate Aria
Hot chocolate & one croissant

Submission Sonata
Virgin strawberry & wasabi daiquiri

Ode to Blood
Giga ant eggs, sour apple juice, seltzer water, flavored ice

Fiery Trigon
Grenadine, lemon juice, apple juice, passion fruit juice, & cinnamon

Silent Overture
Free coffee if you can prove that you’re knighted

Note: Virgin bar.

[This post is open forever.]

*Ode to Sleep , Richard Chenevix Trench

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"Should I bother asking who?"

Or is Autor unable to take as well as he can dish?

Autor's lips quirk in an unconscious mimicry of the way Lohengrin smiled earlier.

So he points to each of the specials in turn. "Bitter Chocolate Aria refers to not one baker, but two: Sunshine and Oswin," he says. "They both baked chocolate croissants with me, and Oswin has an aria that's important to her."

He hesitates on the next one. "Submission Sonata is based on Punie Tanaka. Wasabi is from Japan, where she's visiting, and burns as much as she does. Ode to Blood is Karkat, as it's sour and I'm trying to guess his blood color, but it can apply to any of the trolls. Poins and his friends make up the Fiery Trigon, of course."

The boy laces his fingers together. "And you're the Silent Overture. You're the Knight, dealt with a period of enforced silence, and--as far as I can tell--you like coffee."

There's a twitch of an eyebrow at the last one.

But don't think he didn't notice that hesitation when Autor was talking about Punie.

"Why Submission Sonata, then? Unless you're referring to the drinker?"

"Oh, uh," the boy says softly, and glances down at the table. He wants to give the Knight answers--Autor has stolen so many and wrecked his life, he may as well give some back--but this is the wrong topic.

Not to mention Lohengrin's past with malicious female magic users.

The kid swallows and looks up. "She's an interesting case. She uses magic, but doesn't rely on it, instead favoring wrestling moves and pinning attacks, which she calls submission."

The Princess' way.

"So, really, it's all about her battle prowess and doesn't have anything to do with the drinker," he says, and glances away.

"She must have made quite the impression on you," Lohengrin says, knowing full well it's an understatement.

He sets his cup down.

All he offers in warning is, "Don't forget what happened to Telramund."

Telramund, whose loyalty to his deceitful witch of a spouse cost him his honor and eventually his life.

The boy nods slowly. "That's good advice," he says, and holds up the coffee pot in offer to top off Lohengrin's mug.

Autor places a hand on his hip and looks the Knight in the eye. "Do you have anymore questions for me?"

He half-shrugs, seeing the side-step but letting Autor have it.

"You know Karkat as well?"

It's a good thing Autor's not walking, because he would have tripped. "I do," he says. "He's short, abrasive, and has the most profane mouth I've ever heard. I assume you've met him as well?"

He nods.

"Only once but yes, that does match what I've seen of him."

Autor is learning very quickly that this is what people call a conversation, and that it's terrifying. He turns to make himself a cup of tea.

"So," he says, assembling his tea ball, but keeping his eyes on the Knight, "anything else?"

It reminds Lohengrin of every inquiry Autor's ever beaten into his ears. And of their duel. The calculated versus the primal.

"Hn," he mutters. "Did anything of note happen here in between the musical madness and now?

"Significant note, mind."

Autor furrows his brow, trying to think of what would be significant to Lohengrin. "Nothing major. Apparently the bar needs a rest just as much as everyone else."

Hence why he's tending.

"The Aeslin mice arrived," he says and smiles a bit wistfully. "A group of at least twenty dressed in whatever they could scavenge."

He holds his hand over the bar, as if to indicate how tall they are. "They were warriors and priests and Keepers of Tribal Lore. I think you might like them, if you can get past their chanting 'Hail!' at every little thing."

"A group of mice?"

Well, that might be easier to take than the ponies.

"Don't ask them to recite their tribal lore," he says, leaning on the counter and clutching his teacup. "Just... Just don't. It takes four days and five nights and I do think they were a little disappointed when I collapsed in the middle of it."

"Duly noted."

Though that does give Lohengrin an idea for the next time Autor decides to prattle on...

Autor glances at the Knight, and then turns his attention to his tea. He'd say something if he had the need, but he once again surprised to find that he doesn't.

The boy is a little surprised to realize that he's drowsy, too.

Lohengrin could probably get used to this. The not-completely-idle chit-chat is nice in its way and the lull even nicer. It gives the Knight a moment to study in return, as he can't recall seeing Autor this quiet before without being engrossed in some sort of research. So which Autor is this?

The tired one, happy to curl around his cup for warmth. The one who has thin white scars and faded bruises which mark his knuckles. The pale one, with new, faint smile lines. The one who permits himself to indulge in his tea rather than just drink it.

The one who knows Lohengrin is watching, and doesn't mind.

Edited 2013-05-07 06:55 (UTC)

And Lohengrin isn't about to break this peace.

Until he tears a piece of his croissant and finds chocolate on the inside. He doesn't say anything but he does give the pastry and then Autor a curious look.

Autor blinks at him. "Oh, is it too sweet? I have regular ones," he says. "Wait, you've had chocolate, right? You've been to Milliways long enough."

The one who's genuinely oblivious.

"I've had chocolate but...you gave me chocolate?"

What's that about, Autor?

It takes the kid a little bit to get it, but when he does, he nearly drops his teacup. He certainly chokes. "What? No! You are interesting, Sir Lohengrin, but you are not that interesting, and not even in that--ew!" he says, trembling with the effort it takes to suppress his flailing. "I gave you one of those because that's how I baked them, and I was told that chocolate goes well with coffee, and you're not the only one I've given these to, I mean, really.

"And I would never..." he says softly, his eye trailing to fall on the Lohengrin wedding ring. Autor drops his head, taking a breath, and then meets the Knight's gaze firmly.

"I don't know whatever we have between us, but it is certainly not that," he says, and then clears his throat, looking away. "Um. Not on my end, anyway."

Way to read into a pastry, Lohengrin.

Way to read into his reaction, Autor.

"....I only wanted to know why it was a chocolate pastry."

Autor picks up his teacup and drains the still-wavering contents. "Because I baked them that way."

The one who is ever awkward.

And that does seem to be the better answer. Lohengrin takes a bite of the pastry.

"So some good can come of you," he comments.