milliways_bar | (no subject)

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River.

Booth. Back against the wall, one leg tucked under her and one knee pulled to her chest. Watching the room. What she sees in it is, as usual, an open question.

The sullen look of a teenager who's not in a particularly good mood, layered with River's tendency to be distracted by empty air.

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A yo-yo flits across her empty air.

Well, "flits" may be not quite the right word. "Flies" or "flings itself" might be more fitting. It's closely followed by a man appearing to be approximately thirty-something years old. He catches the errant yo-yo and stops roughly in front of her booth, frowning and trying to untangle the string.

River watches him. Or possibly the yo-yo.

The yo-yo is fascinating, say true. It sparks when it goes up and down. Lincoln, unfortunately, has not yet made it go up and down. Not on purpose, anyway. He glaces to his left and notices the girl in the booth.

"Excuse me, but you wouldn't happen to know anything about these, would you?" He holds it up: it's kind of a mess.

"You're not supposed to tie them in knots."

River is helpful.

"I didn't tie anything. It did it itself." He pauses. "Well, okay, I probably helped. But Bar didn't give me any instructions when she gave it to me, so I don't even know what's right."

The last yo-yo River touched was magical. Of the happy sort, if you're not River. Coincidentally, that was when she was in a bad mood, too.

She's eyeing it.

"It unwinds. Everything is circular."

Faintly impatient. Mostly because she's in a bad mood, rather than anything he's done.

Lincoln hesitates. He has a feeling they may not be talking about the same thing.

"Is there more to it than that? I mean, I unwound it... does it do something else?" Someone could end up with a bloody nose if he tries to discover what empirically.

He gets a duh look.

"Goes back up. Snap your wrist more."

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