(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]

"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.]