milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

"Ma?"

He walks in, blinking around, a little confused. A small enough child, lame leg trailing behind him as he turns his head this way and that, obviously looking for someone. The cane in his hands is clutched tightly.

"Ma? Ma? Mister Stroker sir? Ma?"

He's starting to think this isn't home.

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Faith pulls a face at him. Because...well, because she's Faith.

"I dunno. You gonna tell me what you like?"

"I told you. I like food."

Because at Stroker's, it's not so much what to eat as 'what's left'.

Faith grins slightly. "Food, huh? I think we can manage that."

She offers him her hand. "C'mon. I'll introduce you to Bar."

He hobbles behind her.

"You say that like it's a name."

"It is." Faith leads him to Bar, smiling, and puts a hand on the wood. "Bar, baby, this is Apropos. Think we can get him a burger and fries, on me?"

Faith is a big believer in hamburgers. She's convinced that they're proof of the superiority of modern society.

He staaaaaaaaaaares as it appears.

"The Bar's a weaver?"

"Weaver?"

Faith blinks.

"Well...she did give me clothes once..."

He blinks.

"No. A weaver. Somebody who does magic."

He stares at the Bar.

"Or something, I guess."

"Oh. Yeah, she's magic," Faith says, stroking the bar lightly. "Wicked sense of humor, too."

She considers adding something to the effect that she suspects he and Bar got on quite well, but decides against it.

"Seems kinda wooden to me."

A grin to her.

Faith groans, covering her eyes, but Bar must have found it amusing; there is now a plate of cookies next to the burger.

Faith snorts. "Great. Encourage him. That's a good plan."

He grins.

"Long as 'she' likes me."

And he takes one of the cookies and stuffs it in, blinking at the taste. After devouring it, and another, he blinks up at Faith.

"What're THESE?!"

"Cookies," Faith says. "And since they're from Bar, they're safe...but, uh, if a woman named Anthy with purple hair ever offers you any? Kick her in the shins and run."

He holds up hiw cane with a look. It's somewhere between 'run? me?' and 'can I hit her with this too?'

Faith tilts her head to one side, slightly. "OK, well, then, say 'no thank you', come find me, and I'll kick her for you."

He nods.

"Sounds like a plan."

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