milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Now, it's just a right lovely evenin', wouldn't you find yourself sayin'?

One've them where somewhere round about the place there's some fool of a poet tryin' to write up the evenin' in iambic pentameter, or maybe as a sestina. Or a sestina in iambic pentameter, it surely wouldn't surprise me none at all.

Meanwhile, while them poets get into a fight over rhyme schemes, over here by the fire there's that fool of a fellow Rabbit, sprawled 'cross one've them couches, with wood an' knife an' cigarette in hand.

How he manages to balance all three without droppin' somethin', stabbin' hisself in the foot, or settin' his own hair on fire, reckon I couldn't tell you even if he managed to explain it t'me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well, which d'you think it is?"

"I think," she says slowly, "you're making something that will appear to be innocent but will really be instrumental in taking over the world."

With a firm nod -- "Definitely something like that."

"Well hey, now," he says, but he's grinnin', so don't you go thinkin' he's more upset than he truly is, "that depends entirely on how th'lady intends t'use him."

Carmela looks interested. "Oh? Well, what sort of a lady is she?"

"That depends on her mood when you ask her, I reckon."

She raises her eyebrows. "I see. So, no guarantee that the lady in question isn't going to use whatever you're making to take over the world."

"Well, she's dead, so she'd be somewhat limited."

"Oh." The smile dims. "I'm sorry. I can see how that would be a problem."

"Ain't seem to've held her back all that much yet, I reckon," he points out.

Another careful curve of the blade, and a hairfine shaving curls away.

"Well, that's good."

She watches the shaving curl, and leans forward to catch it as it spins off and down.

"A lady here? I think Nita mentioned something about that."

The blade pulls away from the wood and twists, rapping her lightly on the knuckle with the flat.

"You oughtta be more careful, messin' around with other folks' sharp objects, sweet'eart."

Warning out of the way, he settles back on his couch, eyeing her.

"There's lots've dead ladies 'round here, I reckon, an' even if you limit it t'the ones as Nita knows, you've got quite a lot t'choose from."

She jumps and sits back, pouting a little, and stifles any comments about him sounding just like Kit about the pulse laser.

She shrugs. "They mostly seem to be pretty lively."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only