milliways_bar | (no subject)

Flash, bleary-eyed, enters and gets a cup of strong tea.

"Hi, Eska."

"Morning, Barry."

She grins. "Look, no donkeys."

He thinks back for a second. "Oh. Right. No, just Violet and Bart and two of his friends in a mess. And I think a few others things, if the rumors are true.

"How are you today?"

She looks worried suddenly.

"Oh, that's not good. What happened?"

"Cupid's arrow struck Violet and the friends. One friend suddenly kissed her, and then she suddenly kissed the other friend. A friend she doesn't even like.

"Now she's mortified, and afraid to talk to Bart. I spend a good chunk of time yesterday trying to calm her, and to get her to talk to Bart. I don't know if I got through, but I did my best."

He sighs.

She rubs her forehead in exasperation.

"That's just...

"Ugh. I hate love spells. They disgust me." She looks furious. "Is she getting better? Do we know who did it?"

At least it was only kissing, she thinks.

"The spell wore off, as best as I can tell. Her heart belongs to Bart again.

"I have some idea as to what happened, since I saw a man with the kind of cute little wings we associate with Valentine's Day at the bar. But he could also just have been someone with sense of humor about the day.

"I plan to find someone on staff and report what happened, assuming they are investigating."

"The spell ending is not the same as being okay. I hope she is, though.

"I would hope the staff would be investigating. This is serious."

"Well, if the rumors are true, I think two staffers are taking it very personally." He pauses, not sure how much he wants to gossip.

"But I think I have my hands full with Violet. And with Bart."

"Well, I hope no one was seriously hurt," she replies, not asking for further details.

"Poor kid. She must feel awful."

"You saw how she gets. The slightest thing eats at her. And to be 14, and in love, and alone, and already hating Bart's friends. Never mind that she can turn invisible.

"I took your suggestion, though. I tried to reach out to her a bit. I have no idea if she understood me, but I at least I got her to smile a little.

"Tell me, Eska. You were 14 and alone among the wizards. How did you cope?"

~~A subtle blend of psychology and extreme violence~~

"I had seven foot of solid pearwood and could hold my own in a duel. I never fell in love and no one was ever stupid enough to throw a love spell at me. It helped that I had a lot of wizards looking out for me: I've been the baby sister my entire life.

"If you mean how did I cope being a witch among the wizards, I just partitioned that part of me away. Around the boys I was just another wizard."

"Sounds like you were very lucky. It seems, at least from Violet's point of view, that no one really watches out for her. And that she never thinks of herself as just another girl.

"You never wanted for confidence. I can tell that. I didn't either, but I was a boy and also rather oblivious to things. The prettiest girl in the school chased after me for years, and I never really noticed."

"Sometimes confidence is the only thing that can keep you safe," she says, thoughtfully, "So Violet's shyness probably helps her none. Hopefully it'll come with her training."

"So do I.

"It felt so odd, trying to reach out to her. I was scared. I didn't even know if I should pat her shoulder.

"And while I think she was happy to change the topic from Bart, I wonder if I let it happen as well. It's much easier to talk about super-hero costumes and to show off my powers than to get more involved."

"The thing is, though, that in this kind of personal matters, it's usually best not to get involved. It's between her and Bart, now. All we can do is be there for her. Talking about costumes and powers is part of that.

"That's not to say we can't seriously prod the buttock of whichever bastard was tossing those spells about."

"I know. It's just...

"Well, between you and me, I feel like I have family again. No. I DO have family. Bart is family. And Violet is becoming family. And I'm not one to stand by when family needs help."

He stops, and composes himself. He's not one to show much emotion, but it's there.

"Can you do some sort of spell to detect the person who did this? In theory, that is."

She shakes her head. "Not if the spell's not there any more. It might have a residue of some sort, but it's not one I'd be able to detect. Sorry.

"If this particular after effect can be sorted out, It'll be sorted out without the intervention of old people, I'm sure. Didn't Bart say it works out okay?" she asks, hopefully.

"He did. But I'm not sure what's up with him.

"I had the oddest conversation with him yesterday. Only it was Bart from an earlier time. Before he warned me. Before he even knew, I think.

"He was terribly dazed. Sat there drawing equations in the dust on a table, telling me he wanted to forget something.

"And then..." He shudders.

"He told me we had met twice before he got here. Once when he talked to me in the Speed Force. And once when he saved my life. When he prevented me from dying."

She gives him a peentrating look, trying to figure out why he'd shuddered.

"Did those things happen to you?"

"No. Well, the first hasn't happened yet. And I'm okay knowing that I enter the Speed Force, eventually.

"But...

"He told me he saved me during the Crisis. Don't ask which crisis. That's what everyone calls it.

"And that was when I died." He looks confused, and worried.

"I don't know what's wrong with Bart. But what he said sounded true. But I'm dead. I wish to God I wasn't dead. But I was there. I should know."

He drinks his tea, and sits in thought.

"I should have mentioned this sooner. But it's...my mind is not happy thinking about it."

She bites her lip. She wishes she could say something comforting, but all she can to is give facts.

"Sounds like you're from slightly different realities, then. That Bart's not quite your grandson."

"Yeah, that was my thought as well. And certainly the rational side of my brain can accept that. I figure in due time it will.

"But the irrational side of me, he's still not used to being dead. He's still afraid of the dark, for that matter. And he was having a hard enough day before hearing this. He wants to know more, especially since like seeks like, and Bart has been a model of irrational behavior just often enough."

[ooc: the day begins for real for me. back at the bar in about 2 1/2 hours]

"Ah, well, the irrational side fo you's still you.

"Maybe you should ask him, then. When he's... when this is a bit more settled. You can find out the answers to all your 'what if?' questions.

"This wouldn't be a very practical solution, but I'm not sure there is a practical solution to how you're feeling. It'll have to come with time."

"Yeah. I know. It's been a very strange couple of days.

"I should probably just not think about this at all for a while. About what Bart said, at any rate.

"I have an idea. It's not going to solve anything but it can't hurt.

"Have you ever tried a chocolate milkshake?"

"A what?"

That'll be a no, then.

He gets up and strolls to the bar.

"Come along, Ms. Smith, and we will introduce you to an Earth confectionary that Violet reintroduced me to."

He addresses the bar...

"Let's have two of your finest chocolate milkshakes, my good...er, bar."

Mister Good Bar produces them promptly.

Esk staaaares.

"That's... a drink. Made out of ice cream. Oh my."

"Ice cream, milk, and ice, at the very least. It's possible - likely? - that the bar will add some kind of chocolate syrup. Though the bar could just as easily shock us and add soda water. Which would be an ice cream soda.

"Did you first meet ice cream here, or does Ankh-Morpork have freezer knowledge as well as fresh milk?"

He picks his up and removes the lttle piece of paper still covering the top of the straw.

"We get fesh milk delivered daily," Esk replies. "We have the best milkman in the mulitiverse, I can guarantee that. And ice cream's just frozen cream. It's not that hard to make, is it? To be honest, I don't know if that's delivered or not."

She tries the milkshake.

"Oh. This is fantastic."

"Isn't it?" He takes a nice size sip, but isn't going to gulp it down.

"I've never been one to turn to food when I'm down. But then I was also alive and had to think more about my health.

"And chocolate is a special case, anyway."

"Chocolate is," she agrees, sipping at the 'shake.

"We eat well at the university, but I don't think it's ever occured to Mrs Whitlow to produce something like this."

"Do you have chocolate on the disc? It would seem unlikely that you don't.

"This is a very simple treat, though. Takes five minutes to make, and it's as common as dirt.

"Though it takes a good chocolate."

"Oh yes, we have chocolate. Life without chocolate seems a little pointless, to be honest.

"This is just ice cream and milk mixed with chocolate, is it?"

"I have friends - the non-powered heroes I worked with - who probably never, ever ate the stuff. I wouldn't say their lives were pointless, but I suspect they spent their off-hours making up reasons why chocolate is bad for you."

A few more sips, and the glass is half-empty. Or half-full, since Barry is an optimist.

"That's all it is. Of course, you can make a shake with any kind of ice cream."

"I'm sure you could. I'll have to suggest it to some people. Maybe Ronnie could look into it - he's our milkman, and he's always open to ideas."

"I haven't seen a milkman in years. Not since I moved to the big city. They went the way of the dinosaur on my world a while ago, even in the small towns.

"Must be nice to have milk show up at your door every morning, without shopping for it." Not unlike having a bar at Milliways, he thinks.

"I'm sure it must be. I don't spend much time in the kitchen, so I don't know. I certainly can't remember much abou twhat it was like back home.

"I'm sorry, I've just never really cooked. At all, in fact."

"Neither did I. Neither did my wife. We used to eat out a lot, and eat on the run - so to speak - a lot. And we never had time to shop properly. So some mornings it was race to the market to get the milk and hope that Iris could hold out a minute to drink her coffee with cream."

He sighs, but not unhappily.

"I miss her, of course, but I miss the city. Not just as a place to run but as a place to live."

"Well, I'm sure it's less of a wait than for most people, being married to you," Esk points out. "But having milk delivered promptly at seven is certainly convenient in that sense."

"Obviously he never had to deal with Central City traffic, or rain.

"And the milkman whee I grew up tended to get delayed by Mrs. Kravitz and Mrs. Busybody pumping him for gossip.

"Must be a very dedicated milkman."

"Ronnie's the best," She agrees. "On the occasions where I've been in a kitchen at seven, he's been friendly enough. He takes pride in his work."

"That's always a good thing."

He finishes the shake, and he really feels much better.

"That was good. Really good. I think I can cope with the day now. And with my, er kids."

"That's good to hear," Esk replies, grinning. "I hope they're feeling a lot better today."

"One can hope.

"Makes appreciate what my own parents must have gone through. And what my wife had to cope with on her own. I don't know any of the details, but apparently I had twins."