(no subject)

[herr_bookman]

"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

Comments

[herr_bookman]

All right, that has to be deliberate.

"Why not, Fry?" Autor asks, and offers Brooke the requested carrot.

[guppy_sandhu]

"Because you're... zooing." Fry says.

Guppy turns around and eyes his son.

"Fry, that's rude. Autor hasn't been anything but polite to you, don't be so suspicious."

"He's a stranger." Fry says. "And strangers can put you in their car or give you sweets or do magic on you or shoot people with arrows."

[herr_bookman]

Autor shrugs, trying not to smile at the term and how well it suits. "He's right, Guppy," the temporary bar tender says. "We've only met once. I am a stranger to him."

Though he does grin at the rest of the comments. "Unfortunately I can't do any of those except offer sweets."

[guppy_sandhu]

Guppy moves over to see what Fry is doing, but the little boy overtakes him, climbs the barstool, and thrusts it in front of Autor.



"I saw your papers. Tell me what you are." he says. "And step away from my sister."

[herr_bookman]

Autor's a fast reader, though he takes a few seconds to puzzle out the chicken-scratch. There's a flash of anger, and then he views the papers on the boy's table with sudden, chilling clarity. Distantly, the boy recognizes the feeling he's experiencing as that of being slapped, and he knows intellectually that his stomach churns. He remembers to modulate his breath this time, thankfully.

Now to act. Autor leans back and smiles, like a cat.

"I think you know me rather well, Fry," he says, nodding to the obvious dossier. "Which story of Coral's did I interrupt? I didn't mean to."

[guppy_sandhu]

"Tell me what you are. Step away from my sister." Fry repeats.

"I think you're a little young to be getting into bar fights, kiddo." Guppy says, confiscating the piece of paper to have a look at it. He frowns.

"Fry, what is this?"

"'Yugo Floorist history don't-know-word floorist working to own a shop flower don't-know-word with a different dalek." Fry says. "Father and brother get up to sordid don't-know-word.'"

Beat. "What's floorist and sordid mean?"

But Guppy is too busy staring at his son to answer the question for the moment. He then headtilts at Autor.

"You shouldn't read people's papers, Fry." he says, now staring hard at Autor. But internally, he's starting to freak out. He's not exactly been withholding a lot of information from this guy.

[herr_bookman]

"A florist is someone who arranges flowers and sells them to people," Autor says patiently, and adjusts his glasses. "Sordid means ugly or nasty, and in this context, it means illegal."

The boy draws a breath. His panic is so far removed that even Guppy's stare--fear-trimmed, puzzled, could become angry--doesn't ruffle him.

Instead, he focuses all of his attention on Fry. "I am a music student. And I write about people to understand why they do things," he says. "That's very clever. Can I have it?"

[guppy_sandhu]

"No." Fry says, pulling his piece of paper back.

"Okay, I think we should go." Guppy says. "Autor and I can have a grown up conversation about this later. It could all be entirely innocent."

He scoops up Brooklyn, needing her warmth next to him. Sensing his agitation, the baby starts to whimper.

"Come on Fry." he says.

Fry stares directly into Autor's eyes.

"If you write about me or my sisters or Daddy I will tell Uncle Atton and he will do lightning on your trousers." he says, before turning to follow his father.

[herr_bookman]

Autor nods once at Guppy, shrugging. He says nothing, watching them leave.

Then he jumps over the counter, nearly knocking his teacup and other various glasses over in his panic. He scoops up Yugo's dossier and returns it to his bag, paging through the rest to see if he's missing any.

By the time he returns to the bar, his hands are shaking so violently, he can't pick up his tea.

[guppy_sandhu]

[ooc: Fry put it back in the first tag, but he could have retained a page if that works better?
Otherwise thanks for the thread. Sorry Yugo!]

[herr_bookman]

[OOC: Ah, so he did! Either way is good for me; it appears to be a matter solved by egregious hand waving. :) Thanks for the thread of doom.]