milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: cold

Entry tags:

(no subject)

*Snow, Millie and Wade enter from the back door, Millie shaking a bit of snow off her fur before entering. Snow retrieves a mug of hot chocolate from Bar before taking them to the usual booth, waiting for Bigby*

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

*He eventually makes his way over, a small stack of paperwork his seemingly every present companion these days. He settles down next to Snow, embarcing her casually.* Hey.

*she returns the embrace, smiling*

Hey. The stack seems smaller tonight. Might be a good sign.

*A glint of amusement graces his eyes.* Might. *He leans over and kisses her.*

*Snow happily leans in to the kiss, enjoying the moment*

*They are sadly interrupted by the surprisingly loud rumbling of an empty child's stomach. He breaks off and eyes his children, sounding incredulous.* Hungry again, already?

*Snow digs in her bag a moment and passes each of them a bottle, Millie having shifted to human form at some point. They consume their meals with gusto. She smiles, then returns to Bigby's side, wrapping her arm around him*

They must have worked up an appetite outside.

*He nods and drops the teasing tone as they are pacified.*

They seem to be ok with the weather... probably got that from your side of the family. *There might have been a faint quirking of a smile before it gets concealed by an exhalation of smoke.*

*Snow smiles*

They seem to take the cold even better than I do, though . . . might be a combination.

Maybe.

*He rewraps an arm around her.*

*she leans in, content*

Anything odder than usual going on?

Nothing new, right now. *She knows about Faith's dreams, after all.*

*she noticed him speaking with Faith earlier*

How's Faith doing? She was going to get eight hours of sleep last night, but from the sound of things I doubt it was very restful.

*He confirms Snow's suspicions.* Very uanimated dreams, from what I understand. Impending doom, that kind of thing.

Damn. Worse doom than usual, I take it?

Hard to say. At this stage, it's all garbled.

Mixed blessing at best, then. Hopefully she'll get something clear in time to prevent . . . well, whatever it is.

*He nods.* I don't know if it works that way, though.

There's always a chance. At least it's the worst of the chaos, for now.

*He agrees, nodding.* Take it while you can. If it's one thing you can count on, peace never lasts here.

Peace doesn't last, no matter where you are. At least Death doesn't work here, so it doesn't turn out deadly when it does arise.

Works both ways though. You can't kill anyone to head it off.

True. At least tossing them in the cells for an indefinate period of time is still an option. *a small smile*

*He nods.* I'm not sure what else we would've done with Ro-man, for one.

Has there been any change, or will he be a permanent staple of the cells?

None. I guess he's our mascot.

It's likely the only semi-useful thing he's capable of here.

*Millie, bottle long finished, crawls over to her father and curls up. Snow smiles at this*

*Bigby shakes his head, disagreeing mildly.* Carpet.

*He settles Millie carefully in his arms and holds his daughter gently. He simply watches her for a bit.*

*Millie smiles at him sleepily before snuggling up and drifting off, fingers slowly clenching and unclenching in his shirt*

Not very good carpet, but that's an option.

*Anthy waves cheerfully to Snow and Bigby.*

*Bigby looks at Anthy, remaining largely expressionless given the seeming tumult by her hand of recent history.*

... Anthy.

*Anthy smiles harmlessly at him.* Hello.

*Harmless seeming or no, he remains focused on her.* I hear there's been some dueling.

*Anthy nods. Still looking harmless.* There was. A while ago. It's over now, though.

*Given the children are present, he decides to stay non-confrontational. It might upset them.* Think it's over for good?

I don't think anyone could really beat my- beat Desire, *Anthy says, rather dubiously.*

*Interesting. Very interesting. He zeroes in on her.*

Beat your what, Anthy?

My fiance, *Anthy says promptly.*

*His eyes narrow in suspicion.* That wasn't what you were going to say.

Yes it is, *Anthy says, still promptly.*

Hmph. *He gestures casually.* Hypothetically speaking, what else might you have said instead?

*Anthy flounders.*

-- my Endless? My -- master? My honeybear? My little cabbage? My muffindaddy?

*He watches her flounder, expression vanishing behind an exhalation of smoke.*

No, I don't think so. Perhaps something else.

I think it was my muffindaddy, *Anthy contradicts.* I mean, that's the sort of thing anyone would feel uncomfortable saying in front of a stranger.

Unlikely. Also, I'm not a stranger.

Well, you're not quite my mother or anything, either.

*He returns back to the original point.* True. So, beat... what?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only