(no subject)

[777thdegree]

He falls into a chair with a creak of aged leather and the clink of buckles against wood, this hobo in leather and wool and too many years.

He'll order tea in a minute.

First he's going to enjoy being somewhere Dave isn't. Somewhere Horvath isn't.

He imagined this all being... easier. Or at least more straight forward. And involving fewer duels in bathrooms.

Comments

[herr_bookman]

"No, I've never met him," Autor says, tempted to put his sweater on again just to spite the man. "I'd ask what turned you against him, but I don't want to answer that question. What would you do if he ever came here? I'd probably faint."

And possibly break down.

[777thdegree]

"... Most likely, I'd have a cinnamon roll." Because honestly, it suits all situations.

And would keep him from doing something disastrous to the master-apprentice bond.

[herr_bookman]

"... A cinnamon roll," Autor repeats, just to make sure he heard him right. "Well, okay. Do you want me to stop asking questions about him?"

[777thdegree]

"It is, of course, up to you." How much useless information does Autor want, anyway?

[herr_bookman]

Never underestimate the power of useless information.

"We might play this game again sometime," Autor says casually. "But right now I'm getting a bit wary of sharing."

He did manage to uncover some wounds--his own, which he's a bit surprised about.