(no subject)

[2goodarms]

As the narration coughs, discreetly, and mutters something about Millitime...

At some point in the night, Curtis slumped over until he was basically face-first in a pile of hay. It made for a good pillow. It did not make for a good fashion statement when he woke up.

He's gotten most of the straw out of his hat and beard, but, as he shuffles in from the lake door, Curtis simultaneously tries to tweeze a few stubborn bits from his cap and stifle a yawn against the top of his shoulder. He doesn't smell bad, but he definitely smells like the stables: leather, horse, dust, hay, just a little bit of muck. And he's still in his gym clothes, both arms -- the healthy one with its single horizontal scar, the truncated one that ends in an ugly knot of tissue before it reaches his elbow -- completely bare.

Priorities, though. He settles onto a vacant bar stool, yawns again, and asks, "Hey, could I get a cup of coffee?"

Bar obliges. Curtis wraps his hand around the mug and breathes in the scent, not drinking just yet.

(He's still got some straw sticking out of his hat.)



[eta @ 11:05 PM ET: and I'm crashing a bit earlier than expected, so slowtime is now in effect. Post is open until I say it's not!]

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

"You're still drinking that shite?" Edgar drops down next to him with a mug of tea and a plate of scrambled eggs on toast.

[2goodarms]

"Shut up, it's fucking delicious," says Curtis, giving him an absent shove on the shoulder. "You had ice cream yet? Heard they make a coffee that kinda tastes like that. You'd love it."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Ice cream is maybe the weirdest fuckin thing anybody ever decided to make," Edgar says through a mouthful of eggs. "Is that kind of coffee cold too, or does it taste like ice cream if it were hot?"

[2goodarms]

"Bet you could get it either way," he says with a shrug. "The cold version's a frappuccino. The hot kind's probably just got a shitton of milk and sugar and stuff in it."

He takes a sip of coffee. Not like it got really cold outside last night, but warm beverages -- whether tea or coffee -- still feel like a bit of a novelty.

[hate_gettin_older]

"As long as there's more milk and sugar and stuff than actual coffee, it might be okay," he says judiciously.

[2goodarms]

"Which completely defeats the point," says Curtis, dry.

(He's pretty sure Edgar's okay with missing that particular point.)

[hate_gettin_older]

"What," Edgar protests, "it'd still be hot, right?"

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah had risen early, her mind racing in a thousand different directions all at once. The previous day's events had set in motion a train of thought. That Curtis would come to Helium someday soon. And that day would be beyond challenging for him, if she couldn't find a way to make it easier.

She had an idea, and all of her research was back in Helium. She needed to go back, possibly for a few days. She dressed as she had when she came in, long silk skirts, her hair carefully coiffed and pinned. She wasn't going to leave without speaking to him first.

Luckily, he was awake and already inside. And looking like he'd slept in a paddock. She smiles and waves from the bottom of the stairs.

[2goodarms]

Sleepy as he is, Curtis immediately brightens when he spots Dejah. He uncurls his hand from the mug to wave back.

...And then surreptitiously tries to pluck a few more bits of straw out of his hat.

She looks amazing. More Front than she's ever looked, yeah, but that's only a fleeting thought in the back of his mind.

[dejah_thoris]

She gathers her skirts and makes her way through the bar to his side.

"You look like you slept in a thoat paddock last night," she says, her voice warm. She leans in close to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Mind if I join you?"

[2goodarms]

"Least it was a comfy thoat paddock," he says. His voice creaks a little with sleep, but is just as warm as hers. Curtis catches one of her hands to give it a squeeze. "Yeah, come sit with me."

[dejah_thoris]

She draws his hand up and brushes a kiss across his knuckles.

"You're having coffee," she says, slipping onto the stool beside him. The word still holds a bit of heaviness for her.

[2goodarms]

"...Yeah." A touch rueful. "Need the caffeine, I think."

He studies Dejah.

"Is that okay?"

[dejah_thoris]

"Yes, of course," she says. Her smile is tight until she glances across at him and meets his gaze. She looks at him and her expression softens.

"Should I have a cup, too, do you think?"

[will_scarlett]

Will's at the counter getting a cold beer, he has some leaves in his hair and gestures to Curtis,

"Ye've some straw in yer 'at."

[2goodarms]

"Yeah, I know," he says with a sigh, unhooking his hand from the mug so he can scrub at the back of his hat. Glancing over at the guy, "You too."

[will_scarlett]

"Aye, bloody 'ard to find it all. Ye workin' in the stables?"

[2goodarms]

"Not working, just sleeping." Rueful, Curtis makes a gesture toward the back door. "Friend of mine just brought home this, uh, huge fucking thing from Mars. We both spent the night out there so it wouldn't freak out."

And so Curtis didn't have to worry about Edgar after his unplanned trip to another planet.

[will_scarlett]

"Oh aye, get some strange beasts in other places, ne'er really get used to 'em,"

Or at least he gets mainly used to them and then is surprised again.

[2goodarms]

Curtis nods. He stifles another yawn against the back of his hand, then reaches for the mug.

"You work out there?"

[starrydome]

Elrond finds himself unexpectedly in Milliways in the very early hours of the. Morning.
For him at least.

He'd been headed for his study, but he will take advantage of the opportunity for a hot mug of tea without having to make it himself.


And he will greet people he encounter politely as befits the time (even if he might not really feel for it).
There is no excuse for poor behaviour, at least not for him.

[2goodarms]

Yesterday ended up being a pretty good day in the end. Moreover, Curtis is still waking up, too sleepy yet to move beyond the haze of oh, huh, it's that guy again.

So when Elrond passes by, Curtis -- wonder of wonders -- gives him a polite nod before swigging his coffee.

[starrydome]

So Elrond feels comfortable (or rather feels comfortable that the Man will feel comfortable) and pauses to ask Bar for something befitting the - for him - very early hour, next to Curtis.

A mug and a plate appears. The mug is steaming and the scents are reminiscent if herb gardens and wild forest floors. There are slices of butted bread on the plate and they too are steaming slightly as the butter melts.

[2goodarms]

...Goddamn, that smells good.

Curtis' stomach, lagging well behind his brain, wakes up with an audible grumble. Coffee, it would like Curtis to know, is not a food group.

But, as always, it's easy to shove the hunger away for a little longer, despite any protestations his body might have.


[ooc: fffff, i am SO SORRY, I completely missed this tag /o\]

[starrydome]

And while Elrond certainly respects people's desires to be able to control their bodily reactions and how they act on them, it would not sit right with him not to offer to share. Especially not here.

So he turns his head a little and says, "You are welcome to some of this, if you would like?"
Adding, dryly, "There are - what is the phrase - no strings attached?"

And he has eaten of it himself, so it ought to be safe.



{ooc: no worries :) }