milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

alec lightwood

(no subject)

[OOM: Libens, Volens, Potens.

and

Omnium rerum principia parva sunt.]

As is often the case when he comes into Milliways, Alec's face relaxes when he steps through the door. The last couple of days have been an exhausting roller coaster both physically and emotionally, and he could use a sofa and a coffee. He stops by the bar for the latter, and then settles himself onto a sofa, stretching out full length. He sets his coffee on a side table and decides to just rest his eyes a little.

There may be snoring. Just a little.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Cecil, who is a little tired himself from a long day of listening to City Council debate passing the possible new death expectancy, strolls in. He's rather relieved to not be in the NVCR break room, as the last intern (to the family of Intern Jacob, our most sincere condolences) forgot to buy more coffee to restock before he shuffled off this mortal coil.

It's a tragedy, really.

But he comes to a stutter stop at the sight of Alec, peacefully and dangerously sleeping out in the open where just any antique could come and take a bite out of him. Cecil has reservations about the piano, actually.

So he does what any friend would do. He gets a mug of coffee and a plate of fried paradoxes from the Bar, and takes up a seat nearby. He's not going to fight an antique, or anything, but he's pretty good at sounding the alarm in an emergency.

In Milliways, either everything is an antique or nothing is. It's all in how you look at it.

Alec's snoring delves into a snort that wakes him up, and he jerks slightly, muttering, "He's not my warlock...," sits up abruptly, gaze darting around the room until he remembers where he is and relaxes again.

When he sees Cecil, he smiles. "Hi. I wasn't drooling, was I?" He rubs the corner of his mouth, just in case.

Cecil evidently sees absolutely nothing abnormal with Alec's wake-up routine, as he gestures to the plate of paradoxes with a sauce-laden paradox to indicate that they are definitely up for grabs.

"Don't worry, if you were, I don't think anyone noticed. Except for the Sheriff's Secret Police, of course."

"Well, they can give me a citation if they want, but I think Milliways is probably out of their jurisdiction." There's a pause and then he smiles, which is mostly how you can tell when Alec makes a joke.

"Ooh, thanks," he says, reaching for a paradox. "I'm suddenly starving."

"Oh, there's at least one officer here, she's quite sneaky." Cecil notes, approvingly as he nudges the plate of paradoxes closer to Alec. It's so nice to have a friendly neighborhood police state. "But I shouldn't say too much, I wouldn't want to get her in trouble after all."

Alec takes a handful and dips one, just to see. "Is it bad manners to out an undercover cop?" He finds it difficult to discern how mundanes feel about police. There seem to be some competing ideas.

"Well, if I told you her name and general appearance and, oh, I don't know, Social Security number... well, that could cause some problems. But of course I wouldn't do those things." He scoffs, the idea ridiculous.

"Social Security number?" Alec asks, his face scrunching slightly in confusion.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only