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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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There really should be cherry blossoms fluttering through the air somewhere over their heads at this point.

Punie is silent for a moment, pink and shining. At last, in a deliberate gesture, she moves one hand so that the tips of her fingers -- cool from the icy drink in the glass -- are just brushing his. "Then I'll be sure to make something special in return," she replies, sincerely. "Something that makes me think of you."

The next sip of the drink helps to cool her flush, but only by a little.

And wind gently wafting through their hair.

Autor clears his throat and tries to speak, but the only sound he can make is an aggrieved squeak. He tries again after a few breaths, and manages to murmur, "I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

Surprise me, he thinks. Surprise me.

The boy tries to come up with something to say, but can't. He watches the way her fingers press against the stem again, and turns to prepare tea.

Punie stirs her drink with one of the licorice straws, gently sloshing the ice around the glass as she watches him make tea for himself. She has an vague idea already in mind for the lunch boxes, though she will have to check the contents of her kitchen cupboards before she starts to plan the meal around it. There's a special delicacy from Magical Land that might just be suitable, if her little sisters haven't found the jar and eaten it all already. But that can wait until she gets home.

"I was hoping to take some cuttings from the greenhouse today." It's a slightly safer subject, one that may be less likely to leave them incoherent with youthful emotions. "But I was also thinking of looking more at the seasonal plants outside, like the lilacs. They were almost ready to bloom the last time I looked at them."

Autor turns back to her refreshed, dipping his tea ball rhythmically. He's relieved that her mouth seems to work better than his--and then he tries not to think of her mouth at all.

Flowers, however, are almost always safer than drinks. Almost. "The Greeks included the lilac in their mythology," he says, setting his cup down on the bar across from her daiquiri. "A beautiful nymph named Syringa was so admired by Pan, the god of the forests and the fields, that he chased her. Terrified, she transformed into an aromatic bush to escape him. We refer to it as the lilac, and now it heralds spring."

Recitation complete, he sips his tea. "What colors are you looking for?"

Edited 2013-05-07 19:22 (UTC)

Punie has to take a careful sip of her drink to conceal her smile at the story. Nymphs in those myths always seem to do a fair amount of running away and transforming themselves into things in order to escape. There's a part of her that almost feels sorry for them.

"Plain white and purple are the ones I'd most expect to find, out in the wild. But if it's the kind that's purple with white edges, that'll be even better. Those brighten up a whole room." She stirs her drink again, trying to keep the wasabi from settling down at the bottom of the glass. "I might have to bring a vase from home, if I find them."

Autor nods at her choices, and toys with his teacup. "White ones mean youthful innocence, so that suits," he murmurs. "I've never seen purple trimmed in white, so let me know if you find any."

He samples more of his tea. "Are all the flowers in the palace gardens poisonous, or just some of them?" he asks, teasing. Somewhat.

[OOC: Apologies for missing this one! Goodness.]

Punie pouts (albeit cutely) at the question. "Most of them are perfectly ordinary flowers. It's just that I happen to know which ones aren't good for you to eat or touch. Besides, they're only poisonous because that's what they need to do to survive, so the birds and other animals don't eat them."

It's a lesson she has taken to heart all her life.

Oh, that pout. It will be his undoing someday, he just knows it. There he'll be, ready to drop a grenade on her, and all she'll have to do to make him fumble with the pin is purse her lips. What an egregious weakness.

Autor smiles at her reasoning. "A common theme, in Magical Land, no doubt. So, you cook, you garden, and you avoid assassination attempts by your little sisters and mascot," he says, and that smile widens a fraction. "What do you plan to do in the future, when you become Queen?"

Because really, there isn't any doubt in his mind that she will be.

Edited 2013-05-08 07:27 (UTC)

There's really only one answer to that question, yet it makes Punie straighten her shoulders and lift her chin all the same. "I plan to do whatever I think is best, as a proper Queen should."

For herself, for the land -- much like her mother before her, she does not consider there to be any real difference. Which is part of the reason why is just as easy to picture her quietly working in a garden as it is to picture her presiding over the final moments of a public execution.

The object of power is power, after all.

"But then again, that's what I always plan to do." Her voice is a little less regal now, but still possessed of the same utter conviction. "So when I become Queen, it won't change much."

Her answer doesn't tell Autor anything he doesn't already know, but he finds it thoroughly satisfying all the same. The boy logs away the way she tilts her chin as yet another action he wants to see her perform more often.

His gaze, however, is mutinous. "Well," Autor says softly, raising his teacup. "Long live the Queen."

Then he relents, grinning. "I still don't see how the power of friendship will help with that. What are you really learning in Japan?"

She lifts her glass with quiet dignity, as she would to any such salute. But in the next moment, she's plucked one of the licorice straws out of the drink, and has started to chew on it thoughtfully.

"I can't be a good Queen if I've only ever spent time with my family and Paya-tan, and only ever lived in the palace in Magical Land." She manages to not talk with her mouth full. "I have to know a little of what it's like to be a normal person. And that means making friends with normal people. What other things should I be learning that are more important than that?"

"A Queen learning of her subjects' lives and ruling accordingly," Autor murmurs. The concept certainly sounds Story-like, given that the royals of history would have laughed themselves silly.

"You are graceful, diplomatic, and deadly already," the boy says, ticking some of her qualities off on his fingers. "You'll have to forgive this normal person his envy." And confusion, still. What will you learn from the ordinary, Miss Tanaka?

He sips his tea to rid himself of a smile threatening to turn sheepish. "Still, why Japan? The people there aren't your normal subjects, unless Magical Land plans to invade Earth."

Autor blinks. The thought had occurred to him during their first meeting, but he hadn't given much credence to it since then. Oh, that will probably be inconvenient, depending on when she does it.

It's difficult to explain the grand tradition of magical princesses in Japan to one who isn't personally familiar with it. And though Punie suspects that Autor would be utterly fascinated by the stories of her mother's systematic and ruthless elimination of all other potential magical girl pretenders to the throne...well, some family secrets are best kept as secrets, at present.

(If he spends enough time around her, he'll learn about them soon enough.)

All the same, she takes the compliment with a modest smile. "I really shouldn't use the word normal. It makes me sound so mean and snobbish. But you see, there's still a lot I have to learn, and part of that learning means that I have to be on my own and do things for myself as much as possible. It would be much harder to do that in Magical Land, where everyone knows who I am." She finishes the last of the licorice stick. "Wouldn't it make sense for me to go someplace where magic isn't common at all?"

"I don't find 'normal' to be either of those," Autor says, setting his cup aside. "Just flexible, and until now I lacked context. You are what you are and there's no point in pretending otherwise--though you don't need me to say it."

The boy leans on the bar, cupping his chin in his hand. His smile is far from modest. Instead, it's ruthless. Pleased. "But if the Japanese don't know who you are, they'll learn soon enough."

He does note the absence of commentary about Magical Land's plans for Earth. But he's fairly certain he'll have died long before she goes to conquer the planet--after his own chance to rule.

There's nothing ruthless about Punie as she finishes the last burning sip of her drink. Her expression is as sunny as it usually is, her cheeks still a bit flushed from earlier. Yet her mind is running along its darker lines, turning over his words. I don't think you're so very normal as you say you are. I think there's much more to you than you want to tell me. But you promised that you wouldn't make things easy for me...and I can be very patient, when I want to be.

Those are thoughts she can keep to herself, for now. Especially as another thought has come to her, one worth mentioning aloud. "Oh, I meant to ask -- did you ever find out who damaged all those poor books in the library? Or if there was a reason why they were damaged?" She shakes her head sorrowfully. "It's so sad to think about opening a nice book and seeing something like that."

Autor tilts his head at her. "I did," he says conspiratorially. I already knew. "But it hasn't led to justice yet."

Then he adjusts his glasses, frowning. "And yes, I agree. There are few things sadder than a mishandled book, so the work of sifting through deliberately vandalized ones is heartbreaking."

The boy glances at her glass, and offers to take it from her. "Would you like another? Or a glass of water, perhaps?"

Of course he won't tell her the reason, but she can still give her sympathies. "You looked so concerned when I saw you looking over them -- I didn't like to see you so sad. I only hope it won't happen again."

Her smile perks up a little, trying to lighten the mood. "Just a little water, if you'd be so kind," she says, as she hands him the empty glass (though not before she steals the remaining licorice straw out of it). "I should go and see about the flowers before it gets too dark out. But I'm glad I stopped by...especially since I had such a nice drink. I'd love to have it again sometime, if you ever feel like making it."

Autor is a little stunned by her statement. He didn't think he was sad about them, though now that he remembers it, he most certainly was. It does bother him, however, that she was able to read it right off of his face.

Her smile shakes him out of his thoughts. After a minute, he slides a glass of ice water--garnished with a slice of pink grapefruit and an umbrella for fun--across the bar top.

Then he picks up his tea again. "Of course," he says, with a bashful smile. "Anytime, Miss Tanaka."

[OOC: Oh, these two. Fade? Thanks for the thread! :)]

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