milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Pikachu?" A yellow beastie is looking at her curiously.

She blinks and looks back. "Hello."

"Pikapi," it replies politely, then points at itself.

"Pikachu."

It points to her. "Pikapika?"

She's beginning to wonder if something is wrong with the translation spell in the bar. Still, she can figure out the sign language well enough.

"Lady Cywyllog." She replies, still blinking.

"Pikapi!" it replies cheerily, holding out a paw for shaking. Then, it realises the "Lady" part and adds a mostly-dignified bow.

She smiles at the bow and shakes the offered paw.

"It is very nice to meet you."

"Pikapika." It ambles closer, then pats her arm in concern. "Pikapi?"

She looks a little confused this time, but tries to put the talking-to-animals practice she got with Bunnicula the other night to good use.

"I am fine. Just a little frustrated with some people, that is all."

"pikachu," it says, nodding. It knows all about frustrating people. "Pikapika?"

"...yes?" she ventures. Actually, she's guessing. She's lost on this one.

"Pika?" It takes a seat and tilts its head, with a general sense of, "Well, I'm listening..."

One ear flicks idly.

She smiles again. "Oh, you know, too many people thinking they know what is best for me. I get enough of that at home."

It nods. "Pikapikachu." Then, a metaphorical lightbulb appears over its head.

It scampers off.

A moment later, it returns with a bowl full of candy. "Pikapi?"

It knows what's best for everyone, and that is CANDY.

Cywyllog has very likely never had candy before, save for that hot chocolate Eros introduced her to.

She picks a piece up and eyes it carefully. "Is it food?"

"Pikapi!" it assures her.

It demonstrates usage with an M&M.

mmm, chocolate

She tries one experimentally... and grins. Because Pikachu is right. Candy is an all round insta-solution.

Beam! It helped cheer somebody up!

Time for a reward of more candy!

Cywyllog follows suit. Candy might just be better than alcohol.

He's sure she's one of the people she's annoyed at but he's here anyway.

Perhaps to be smug and unremorseful to her face, or maybe just because he knows that he deserves whatever is coming to him.

Only one way to find out.

He's right.

She barely looks up at him. "What exactly did you hope to gain out of whatever it was you were going to do last night?"

"The death of a man I find unpleasant." He replies, coolly indifferent.

"For no justifiable reason?" She snorts softly after saying it. "Silly me. You do not need a reason."

He glances away and snorts quietly himself.

"Justifiable to myself may yet be inconceivable to you, lady."

"If it really was about me, then yes, it is absolutely inconceivable as far as I am concerned."

"What else would it be about?" He asks almost crassly. "The man and I have little enough in common, and even less to disagree on." But apparently it is enough.

She looks at him finally, glaring.

"Why then can you not respect what I ask, when it is a simple enough request? You want me to listen to you, do I not deserve the same courtesy?"

He frowns and stares off in another direction. "It was for your own good, lady." He replies softly.

"I do not believe that he can be trusted."

"You do not believe anyone can be trusted, yourself included." She points out.

"Montparnasse, I was beginning to think that we were working our way back to whatever sort of," she waves a hand, "friendship we had before, but if I cannot make a simple request of you, then what is the point?"

He blinks because she has a point. Then he shakes his head because he realizes that she doesn't.

"Non, madame, I trust no one in concern to myself. I do however, generally let others choose those they associate with."

And she almost makes him feel guilty with her question, but not quite.
"Cywyllog, friends do not ask things of each other that cannot be granted. I cannot make any promises concerning that man. He is, in part, my responsibility now. Or at the very least, if anything goes wrong, if he causes trouble, it may be blamed on me as well."

"I did not ask you to make any promises, nor did I ask you not to get involved with him at all. I merely asked you not to involve yourself in this particular incident, which was not even an incident to begin with."

She sighs.

"If him causing trouble is all you are concerned about, then you need not worry on my account. I have no intention of there being anything more than perhaps a friendship."

He nods silently, then winces as he remembers a certain conversation from this morning. "Fuck." So much for fogiveness.

"Then I am sorry." He replies, still staring at nothing, disinterestedly.

She blinks. That sounded like an apology and it even sounded like it might be sincere.

"You did not honestly think I would do anything so foolish, did you?"

A sigh and a hint of annoyance.

"Madame, it was nothing to do with what I thought you might do, but what I was concerned that he would do."

"And you thought I would allow such a thing?"

"I think that I do not believe you could prevent it." He replies honestly.

If he were any less sullen he might have made more of an effort to prove this point, but he's also not interested in hurting or frightening her.

She merely sighs and concedes the point silently.

"Perhaps then I should ask Illyria if she will give me those fighting lessons after all." It's an attempt at a joke. Whether it succeeds or not is entirely up to him.

He does snort again. And this time it is in amusement. So it is an accomplishment.

"Perhaps." He agrees. Completely unaware that Illyria would likely only by jealous now.

"If she is still offering. She has a lot to worry about right now."

"Well, it is an idea for another time then. Granted, I would likely only hurt myself in the process so..." She just shakes her head and then gives him a small smile. "You really are that worried about me?"

"I would offer myself." He admits with a dismissive shrug at the next part. "But she has a wider range of knowledge and techniques."

"And yes," A weak smile. "I am, I'm afraid."

"You know how to use knives." Obviously. "That might be a small enough place to start."

She smiles again at his last comment, then leans over and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I may not approve of your methods, but I am glad I have someone watching out for me. Thank you."

"And a rapier, though not nearly so well as many."

He grins and that and shrugs. "I am not sure that it was my decision. I did not ask to care." And a wee smirk. "But you had best not do that." He warns her facetiously. "As fair a trade as it would be, I would hate to incur and attack on my life in exchange for any affection."

She laughs slightly.

"Who would attack you? You are the only one who seems to care about such things."

He raises an eyebrow, unsure whether he's pointlessly taking offense at this, or just amused.

"Mordred, perhaps?"

She waves a hand dismissively.

"I am not his wife. His interest in me is simple curiosity."

A small uncomfortable smile, which he hopes doesn't appear too guilty.

"Yes, well, I would not be too certain about that."

"I would." She replies firmly. "I am nothing more but the memory of a girl he did not care about to begin with."

He sighs. "Well, I hope for everyone's sake, that you are correct in that assumption."

"I am. Trust me." She pats his arm reassuringly and smiles. Not so annoyed anymore.

He nods and smiles.

He knew her anger couldn't last long.