milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Castle's still sprawled across a couch, munching the occasional tortilla chip and deeply engrossed in a book.

Yes, that is Wuthering Heights he's got his nose buried in.

No, wonders will probably never cease.

[OOC: Mun going out to dinner for a bit. Back in a few hours.]

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"Hello!"

Random leans over the top of the couch, smiling cheerfully.

"Why are you reading that?"

The disgust is obvious in his voice.

He jumps, but miraculously manages to keep a rein on the outburst of profanity that would usually accompany this.

He grits his teeth and pointedly does not look at Random. "Because I think it's interesting."

"Emily Bronte was a mean bitch."

He shrugs.

"Charlotte was nicer. Go for Jane Eyre- it's less melodramatic."

"And since when does that deter you from liking someone?" He takes another chip.

"I don't feel like reading Jane Eyre. I feel like finishing this."

Random gives him a rather annoyed look.

"Okay. Conversation's a no."

Small sigh.

"How've you been?"

"Fine." He turns a page. The I was enjoying not having you around is implied.

He has to ask, though, embarrassing as it is. "Ramon back, too?"

He can't afford to be caught off-guard by him if he is.

"He's back, but won't be down for a few days."

He shrugs, slightly.

"I don't think he'll bother you."

A snort. He doubts that.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why'd he leave in the first place?"

"I asked him to."

He smiles, and settles into an armchair.

"I had Court Duty, and didn't want to spend the days alone."

If it were anyone else, he'd see this as romantic and touching. As it is, he's mildly nauseated. ~~Mun does not share this sentiment, for what it's worth.~~

"Mmhmm." He flips another page.

"Have things been busy?"

He cocks his head.

"Anything going on?"

"Everything has been boring and uneventful. Why else would I have started reading Emily Bronte in the first place?"

A small laugh.

"That would be a very good point."

"She's not as bad as everyone thinks."

He's not getting much reading done, though he's still turning pages as if Random's not there.

"I suppose not."

He shrugs.

"We just didn't get along very well. Bit of a prude."

A slightly arched eyebrow, but he doesn't betray much surprise at that.

"Well, her writing's good, and that's all that matters now."

He shrugs.

"I know. But it's always coloured the book for me."

A small smile.

"Memories have a habit of doing so."

"Yeah, they do. But I don't have any memories of any of the Bronte sisters, so forgive me if I'm not going to just toss the book aside on your say-so."

And I do have some pretty unpleasant memories of you, so forgive me for not wanting to have a friendly chat here, he doesn't add.

"I suppose you probably didn't get along with Emily Dickinson, either, if you have such a thing against prudes."

"Didn't meet her. I like her works well enough, though."

He folds his legs underneath him. This good a mood simply refuses to be crushed.

Andres notes this and makes a brief stop at the bar to get some salsa verde. Because... Castillian. Yum tomatillos and chilis. He then promptly walks up behind the couch and nabs the chips. Of course he proceedes to sit nearby, but the theft was obligatory.

"Why, yes, Andres, of course you can have some chips. You only have to ask."

He doesn't look up from his book, but he's grinning.

"Gracias." He replies, grinning as well.

¿Cómo estás, hoy?

"Ca va bien, merci."

He folds down the corner of the page and closes the book, leaning back to be able to look Andres in the eye.

"So what's up?"

"Nada y cosas." A shrug "What are you reading?"

He shows Andres the cover. "It's called Wuthering Heights. It's a pretty famous book from my world. It's supposed to be all about revenge and greed and stuff, but I'm not that far into it."

"Oh. Well, sounds interesting. Let me know how it is."

"Something bar gave you to read?"

"It's pretty good so far. And yeah. I figure I must have looked pretty desperate for her to give me something found on the average high-school English syllabus and expect me to read it for fun." He laughs a little.

After a moment, he sits up to make room beside him on the couch.

He snorts. "And are you at least finding it fun?"

He does not move yet. He just got comfortable.

"Yeah. It's actually really interesting. I don't know why so many people hate it."

He tosses the book onto a nearby table and stretches casually.

"Good. Don't let me interrupt then." He grins.

"It's been quiet around here."

"Oh, don't be like that. If given a choice between you and Heathcliff, I'll happily take you," he says dryly.

"Yeah, it has. I shouldn't be complaining, because at least nobody's getting hurt, but still..."

"Kind of dull. I understand." He nods.

and, "Well that's a relief." He says wryly.

"It was meant as more of a compliment than it sounds like." He snags another chip and steals a bit of Andres' salsa to go with it.

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