(no subject)

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

Dandy in a booth with a pen and paper. Thinking and occasionally writing.

He got all the creativity tonight.

Comments

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

Mara's suddenly standing beside his booth. "Hi."

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

He glances up briefly, "Good evening." then back down at the top sheet of paper, scribbling something on it quickly.

Then he sets the pen down and smiles. "Forgive me. Would you care to sit?"

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

"Sure." Mara smiles. She sits. And flounders for a moment. "How are you? I see you're not...missing any limbs."

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

He blinks, confused for a second, then he glances down at his notes again and shakes his head.

"No, they're all still there. Or perhaps they just grew back." He shrugs. "I told you I wouldn't get myself hurt."

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

"You're not telling me something." Mara rests her chin on the table, trying to peer at his face as he looks down at his notes. "I'm a Jedi, remember? Mind reading thing?"

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

He chuckles and sets the top page aside.

"It is nothing of importance." He insists dismissively. "Just for every friend, I make at least one enemy as well. I prefer it that way. Keeps me observant."

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

She sits back up slowly, eyeing him. "Friend?"

She's not hopeful. Too much.

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

"A couple of them. I've finally decided that it's not worth arguing any longer." That's the only reason, really...

--Who's he think he's fooling?

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

Mara smiles at him, and it's a real smile. And it's pretty and all that jazz. "Thank you."

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

"I never admitted that you were one of them." He points out.

But he's smiling too. "You're welcome." And then he's staring at the paper again, almost bashfully.

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

"Jedi. I know what you're thinking." She's still smiling at him, if not nibbling on her lip a bit. She looks down for a moment, then around the bar, her cheeks a faint pink colour. "Hmm."

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

"Then you talk, and I'll think." He suggests wryly. "We might communicate a little better."

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

"I don't know. If I have to listen to all your thoughts, I might get scared." She nudges his leg with her foot. "But I can talk." She takes a deep breath. "So today, when I was going to the Jedi Council, Kyp Durron stopped me and made look at these plans for some restaurant they're rebuilding on Coruscant, and I'm like, why do I care? And he's like this is the best restaurant ever. In the history of restaurants ever."

She smiles at him and looks very vacant. "I can talk forever."

[theres-grey-now.livejournal.com]

And enter Sarah, storming up to him.

"Care to tell me why your clothes are in my closet?"

What? His clothes smell bad. Like him.

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

Montparnasse looks up from his writing and blinks, bewildered, clearly.

He does miss a beat, but only one. "Because mine was full?"

Then scowling, he jots down another note on the top sheet, before folding it and tucking it into one of many pockets.

He does have a lot of clothing. It is his primary concession. Most of it custom work in fact. -And he'd have you know, all clean, meticulously so. Like himself, typically.

[theres-grey-now.livejournal.com]

She nods sarcastically at him. "Right. So you just magically conjured them into my room, without, you know, a key?"

She crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot, a bit impatient with his writing.

Couldn't be that it sort of reminds her of Nikolas again. No way.

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

"You're asking the person, I think." He insists, tapping the pen on the table. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Do you speak Latin?" It seems like a random question. It's not, really.

[theres-grey-now.livejournal.com]

Her expression and voice mirror that of a preschool teacher.

"I'll say this slowly. Your clothes, the poofy things that you wear," she points at his shirt, "are in my closet. As in, I opened the door that leads to the small space in my room, and mixed in with the few clothes I have, were your clothes."

Yay for run-on sentences!

She's still glaring. "A bit. Why? Do I have to speak some ancient Latin words to get your clothes out of my closet?"

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

He sighs. It is a long suffering sigh, because it is most apparent that she is crazy.

"They are not mine. I assure you." Probably believes this because he's been going home the last few nights, and so not using his closet here. "Did you ask your boyfriend?" Then he glances down at his own clothing. "But if they are similar to this, he has good taste."

A few talley marks and he looks up expectantly. "French, English?"

[theres-grey-now.livejournal.com]

"They are yours. Your smell was all over them. Not at all pleasant, believe me." She wrinkles her nose for good measure.

"And I don't have a boyfriend-"

(Christopher)

"-in the bar." There was a slight hesitation, but not one he'd notice.

And now a blank look. "I'm speaking English, you idiot. And I know a few words of French. But it doesn't matter, if someone was speaking in a foreign language, I could just sit in their mind and listen."

She's actually not sure of that fact, but she doesn't see why she wouldn't be able to.

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

"Then sit. You might be useful." He points at the opposite bench with the pen then twirls it between his fingers, absently, as he thinks.

"And the bar translates, girl. You're speaking French to me. Though if I listened, I could likely hear your native language instead." It's just not worth the effort.

He makes no reply to the first statement. Because it is still untrue.

[theres-grey-now.livejournal.com]

She sits, but doesn't drop the reason she confronted him. "I want them out. My room is mine, not yours. Got it?"

Not having heard of the translating thing, she shakes her head. "So the bar is a Wonder Bar or something?"

She is still relatively new.

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

Luckily the bar does not translate that as German.

"Something like that, perhaps."

He shrugs. "I'll take a look later then."

-Beat- "What is étouffer in English, quickly?"

[theres-grey-now.livejournal.com]

"Make sure you do."

She glares, but then her eyes take on a faraway look as she finds the translation.

"To choke. Or suffocate." She is so not going to ask.

[devils-dandy.livejournal.com]

"Two f's?" He writes it down anyway, not really waiting for an answer.

"But where exactly is your room?" He's expecting them to be too large, or demode. Something clearly not his own.

Then scratching his head, "But I have been missing a top hat." he mutters.