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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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.

Autor's smile is a flicker of movement. "Sunshine taught me. She must have purified me just enough to make a croissant."

"Her valor must shine as bright as her name to accomplish that task."

"Oh, yes," he says, and offers to top off Lohengrin's mug of coffee. "Much more than a Knight's."

Edited 2013-05-07 21:13 (UTC)

His eyebrow twitches.

"I thought we established just earlier in this conversation that it's not my place to transfigure you so."

"Ah-!" Autor squeaks, and stares at his shoes. "No, that's all wrong, too. Sunshine's not... It's not like that."

He traces his thumb across the handle of his cup thoughtfully. When he offered answers, he didn't think the Knight would ask about relationships.

Lohengrin gives a quiet little snerk.

"No. I wouldn't think it's her anyway."

The boy sips his tea quietly. "You already know who it is."

His stare is challenging. Baiting.

Curious.

"I do."

Hence the serious look on his face.

Challenge met, bait accepted, curiosity... still not quite sated, but the boy's never is.

He stares at his tea. "You're also well aware that isn't the only way to change a person," Autor says, faintly surprised that he said it.

"Certainly. I'm just not good at kidding."

"Noooo," Autor says, drawing the syllable out thoughtfully. "But you are quite good at avoiding the hapless removal of an arm."

"And I imagine you'll be put through your paces in the art of submission."

Autor doesn't know whether to blush or crack up. He does both.

"I've started running because of her," he admits. "Obviously I wouldn't be able to duel you any better, but I wouldn't run out of breath as quickly."

Then he grins. "And I might be able to hit you harder, too, in the unlikely event that I catch you by surprise again."

"Just a reminder to live up to my words."

Next time, if there is a next time, there won't be as much mercy. First blood, no hesitation.

Autor shakes his head, grinning ruefully. "You don't need those. Especially not from me."

He leans on the counter again, strangely comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he gets, anyway.

If they did duel again, Autor knows he'd be destroyed. But he'd try again.

~~If Punie doesn't do it first.~~

It's another nice lull and Lohengrin takes the moment to enjoy his coffee.

The lull is nice, and Autor revels in his tea, prolonging the silence. And now it's his turn to observe, though he never really stops. He's amazed, though, at the change in the Knight. Bantering, snark, cool-headed advice--all shades of things he's seen from Lohengrin before.

But the boy has rarely been around the man when he wasn't suffering from some sort of agony--Autor-inflicted or otherwise.

He furrows his brow and refills his tea. "I don't suppose you'd like more coffee?" he says, and manages a grin. "I'm just waiting for the caffeine to kick in."

"I think I'm fine," he answers. "And you likely have other patrons to wait on."

Lohengrin even glances back to see who else might be approaching.

Autor looks over his shoulder and nods absently. When his gaze returns to the Knight, his nod is firmer. Sharper. "Sir Lohengrin."

But he smiles just as he turns away.

Edited 2013-05-08 00:00 (UTC)

Pardon the Knight if he rolls his eyes.

But the corner of his lip quirks just once more.

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