Saturday Multi-pup: Brunch at Milliways

[cook_the_rude]

These things happen more or less simultaneously:
 

• Dr. Hannibal Lecter enters the bar from the kitchen, bearing a small tray of autumnal themed cupcakes;
• Teja comes in from the back, talking to little Egil, and followed by four cats who hope for a late breakfast, which is provided in the shape of tea, bread, and smoked fish for humans and cats alike;
• Galen Erso emerges from the elevator to the garage, smudged, animated and followed by merely two cats, for whom he orders tuna immediately along with his own caf;
• the door opens and in walks Ragnar Lothbrok, groaning and flapping his hands irritatedly at whatever he is leaving behind beyond the door before he realises where he is, and orders beer and a pizza;
• Father Pearse Harman walks down the stairs, carrying papers and a boxy laptop computer while politely asking the first rat he encounters to provide him with a pot of tea and some biscuits.

[[OOC: Say in your tag whom you want, or you might get anybody.]]

Comments

[electro_kinetic]

"In theory, if there's a thousand of them in the jar, you can make a wish on them," she answers with a shrug. "Any less than that and they're just said to attract good luck."

[cook_the_rude]

"So how do I determine how many there are?"

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko lifts an eyebrow. "Usually by counting. Or taking someone's word for it."

There is a reason she strings hers on thread.

[cook_the_rude]

"That's a job for an OCD vampire," Hannibal says.

[electro_kinetic]

"There's about two hundred and fifty in that jar, I'd guess," she says. "So, good luck."

[cook_the_rude]

"So I need four jars to make a wish?" Hannibal says.

[electro_kinetic]

"I...suppose?" she answers. Noriko isn't all that big on making literal wishes on jars of paper shapes, honestly. She mostly figures it's kitschy shit to make people buy them at fairs.

But, whatever floats Hannibal's boat is fine by her. Right now. "Why, you planning to play Aladdin?"

[cook_the_rude]

"This is Milliways," Hannibal reminds her. "Magic works here. And I can use every little thing."

[electro_kinetic]

"Literally everything I'm folding came from home, though," she says, "And that was New York. Not exactly coursing with the supernatural there. But whatever, you want a thousand of them I can do it. It'll take me a little while."

Not like she's got loads else to do being stuck in here.

[cook_the_rude]

"What would you like to have in return?" Hannibal asks.

[electro_kinetic]

"What're my choices?" she asks, delicately puffing out another star.

[cook_the_rude]

"Cupcakes, anything else I can make for you, a favour?"

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko considers, dropping the newest star into another growing jar of them, and shrugs lightly. "A favor would be nice. I'll let you know when I need it, though."

No, she isn't planning on telling him what it is.

[cook_the_rude]

"Undefined future claim," Hannibal says. "The stuff that fairy tales are made of. I am game!"

[electro_kinetic]

"More like I just don't know what I'll need later," she says, shrugging.

[cook_the_rude]

"Or that."

[electro_kinetic]

"You have this thing," Noriko says, "About assuming literally the worst thing possible about my motivations."

[cook_the_rude]

"No, I am looking for the bigger picture, the red thread, the next branching of the antlers," Hannibal answers.

[electro_kinetic]

"There are no antlers here, Hannibal," she says dryly. "Not until winter with the reindeer."

[cook_the_rude]

He gives her a look.

"Metaphorical antlers, branching possibilities."

[electro_kinetic]

"Don't give me that look, you know I don't play that game, Hannibal."

Especially not with him. Been there, done that.

[cook_the_rude]

"Dont't try and change the conversation," Hannibal says. "You know perfectly well what I mean."

[electro_kinetic]

"I do, and there's a reason I changed it. You know perfectly well what my views are on everything you've done."

[cook_the_rude]

"Define 'everything'," Hannibal says, smiling.

[electro_kinetic]

"Murder, cannibalism, and on a lighter note breaking your Hippocratic oath," Noriko replies, dry as dust as she looks up to meet his eyes.

"You want to use your words to put me ill at ease in this conversation, and I don't want to let you. I consider you a friend, Hannibal, don't push me towards changing my mind on that score."