milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Remiel's soaked as he walks in -- there's a vicious thunderstorm going on behind him, before he closes the door. He's muttering something about timing.

Then, approaching the counter, "Bar, could I get a towel?"

Something pink and fluffy appears on the counter. Mockingly, Remiel's sure.

"...a towel."

It takes a moment, as if Bar is sulking, but then a cerulean towel appears.

"Thanks, Bar."

He sets about drying off his hair. At least he doesn't have to dry his wings. Have at.

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He is being watched over the edge of the couch.

Carefully.

...

At least she isn't pouncing on him?

And woe is the angel, as his head is covered by a towel.

He should know better.

But, of course, he's giving the bar the benefit of the doubt.

(ooc: No worries, I posted late. *grin*)

Silly angel. Lucky angel. He's safe from pouncination tonight, if only because her her brother, who is about somewhere, if not immediately visible, will remind her (forcibly, if need be) that one does not hunt one's friends.

Even if memory is a bit fuzzy at times.

So she watches him, gold eyes glittering, trying to match up a name to the face (or in this case, towel-covered thing).

Remiel pulls the towel off of his head and runs a hand through his hair to smooth it. It's still extremely damp, but at least not plastered to his head.

And then he notices Ace, and the gold eyes.

"Hey, Ace."

"Hullo." She doesn't move, since she's pretty sure she knows this one, but can't force the more tired part to come up with a name just yet. She's a bit wary of people now, since she's had mixed reactions to... well. Her.
"I know you." She's working off the obvious, here.

He smiles, but it's a concerned one.

Is this what she was so wary of, when last they talked?

"Yes, that you do. I'm Remiel, remember? What's up?"

She spares a glance at the ceiling.
"Roof." Duh. But the name finally allows her to make the connection, and she grins, though it's kinda hard to see with her still peering over the top of the couch.
"I remember."

Pause.

"Still think you should name the yo-yo Bently."

'Nother pause.

"Did you get thrown in the lake?"

Remiel grins.

"Nope. Rainstorm in Costa Rica."

He sits down near her, attempting to dry off his shirt with the very damp towel.

"Almost stepped on a huge spider, too."

"Spiders are cruncy. Too crunchy, almost. And not very tasty." She replies, thoughtfully.

And then facepalms a moment later when she realizes she said that out loud.

"Um. Hi. Please don't freak out at me?" She gives him a wary look.

The grin doesn't fade, although he raises an eyebrow a little bit.

"Don't worry, it takes more than that to freak me out."

But he doesn't elaborate on that count. He knows the bar, and its way of surprises...

Something about her posture relaxes, a little. Some part of her still ready to run like hell if something went horribly wrong.
"So. Um." She looks slightly shifty as she scratches the back of her neck. "I... really. This is better. Than before, I mean, it's just not perfect yet. Needs balance."

And someday, she's going to learn how to explain things by starting at the beginning, instead of somewhere in the middle. Or at least, this part will. The rest is facepalming, mentally.

(ooc: Woe, must sleep, or I shall be zombie tomorrow. *snugs* Slowtime?)

The news that it was worse before is not very comforting, to someone who is now more than a little concerned. He furrows a brow.

"But it's getting there?"

And, really, the drying of his shirt is a futile battle, so he stops.

She tilts her head at him, confused.
"It is getting where?" Earlier in the night, she would have known what he was talking about, but communication breaks down as one half becomes too tired to give much input to the thought process.

"You're getting better?" he clarifies.

"Am better." She clarifies back at him. "Just hard t'balance when one is tired." Even if the one is a rather stupid, silly kitten, in this one's view.

But she doesn't mention that.

Remiel nods.

"You could say that about a lot of things."

That earns another headtilt.
"Lots of things were split?" This doesn't make a lot of sense to her, but hey, if he says so...

Which, you know, doesn't explain people's reactions, but she's come to the conclusion that some people are just weird that way.

"Nah, it's hard to do things when tired," Remiel chuckles, considering her a moment.

Still, maybe, the same Ace, but a little different. A little more to-the-point, perhaps.

More in the present, that is for sure. Predators tend not to dwell, or worry about the future.
"Oh."

She thinks about this. Things take longer in committee.

"She's getting stronger though. Would faster, 'cept she keeps working." Silly stupid kitten.

"Work'll be the death of you."

... except for his work, that is, which is supposed to be the opposite.

Remiel tilts his head a little, but he doesn't seem too perturbed by Ace referring to herself in third person.

He's a forgiving sort of creature.

Yeliel's mun is about to disappear for the night, but Yeliel has better things to do than sleep -- like steal Remiel's towel and zoom up to the rafters.

He's used to Puck stealing things, so Yeliel has a distinct advantage: surprise.

"...oy!"

Remiel mock-glares up at him.

Yeliel laughs a chirping laugh, winks at Remiel, tosses the yowel back, and flaps away.

Remiel would fine a few foil-wrapped chocolates in it when he caught it.

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