tire_moi_mes_bottes: (All suave like)
Laigle de Meaux ([personal profile] tire_moi_mes_bottes) wrote in [community profile] milliways_bar2014-05-11 08:53 am

This sort of thing must happen every day.

It's not the first time Bossuet has wandered into a bar after getting hit on the head. And it's probably not the first time someone has wandered into this bar after getting hit on the head. But here we are.

He had been walking towards the sound of gunfire. The unfamiliarity of that particular experience--or perhaps the still-tender lump on the back of his head--had given everything a dizzy dreamlike feel. Terribly exciting, but a bit nauseating as well. The sort of sensation that can get a person lost in a half-familiar set of streets and alleys, and make a person think it might be wise to step indoors just for a minute. Just to ask directions, just to get out of the July evening heat. Of course most doors were shut. There was a riot on, possibly even a revolution. But this particular door had opened and--right, here we are.

The new arrival is a dusty young man with a dented hat in his hand and a green-and-gold cravat wound around his head. His coat might have been fashionable in Europe of the early 1820s, back when it had its full set of matching buttons. His tricolor cockade, at least, is new and clean: a festive splash of blue-white-red pinned over his heart. Vive la République. And hello?

((OOC - new player, new character! Bossuet/Lesgle is coming in from the beginning of France's July Revolution in 1830; his friends might remember that he fell to friendly fire (...someone dropped something on him from a second-story window, good work) and went missing for a bit at the time.))

((--and I'm out for the night, will try to get back to the threads tomorrow. Back for slow-times but I don't think I can juggle any new threads unless we've talked about it already? Thank you all!))
cook_the_rude: (Salad days)

[personal profile] cook_the_rude 2014-05-13 06:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"Absolutely not," Dr. Lecter assures him. "Simply give me fifteen minutes in the kitchen here, and I'll put something together. I will have help there, and you surely wouldn't appreciate having to wait two hours for some food."
cook_the_rude: (Salad days)

[personal profile] cook_the_rude 2014-05-13 07:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Dr. Lecter leaves the bottle while he vanishes.

After as short time, hopefully shortened by the good wine, he returns, with two bowls of fish soup and some bread on a plate.

"There's some meat in the oven getting ready, so I suggest we start with this instead of waiting," he says, setting them on the table.
cook_the_rude: (Enjoy your dinner)

[personal profile] cook_the_rude 2014-05-13 08:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Dr. Lecter offers him the bread basket. "Yes," he says. "From the region known as New England. It's called fish chowder. That will keep us busy until the meat is done."
cook_the_rude: (Throwing the book at you)

[personal profile] cook_the_rude 2014-05-13 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
"No," Dr. Lecter says, starting to eat his soup rather more slowly, "only for some people. Not you."
cook_the_rude: (What makes the cannibal happy)

[personal profile] cook_the_rude 2014-05-13 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh no, not for me, either," Dr. Lecter says. "I come here freely from my home in Baltimore. But there are some."
cook_the_rude: (Salad days)

[personal profile] cook_the_rude 2014-05-14 02:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Dr. Lecter eats his soup.

"I can imagine much worse," he says. "It's never boring."
cook_the_rude: (Keep calm)

[personal profile] cook_the_rude 2014-05-15 12:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[[OOC: Absolutely no problem! They met each other now. To Bossuet's next EP, I might send somebody else...]]