(Untitled)

[attic_girl]

Fuchsia has appropriated a table somewhere that affords a fairly good view of the bar and the other patrons. She's decided, it seems, to spend the entire day in the bar proper, and be social. Or to try, anyway

Comments

[petriedino]

Like the little dinosaur fluttering about in the rafters, maybe?

[attic_girl]

Unfortunately, Fuchsia has relegated Petrie to the rank of owl. Which only results in her scowling at him.

[petriedino]

He doesn't look so very much like an owl, really. Entirely the wrong kind of wings.

Maybe if he flies a little further down?

[attic_girl]

Alas, there are no dinosaurs in Gormenghast, so she has to categorize with what she knows.

He might be a very sick owl.

[petriedino]

He's wheeling to peer at her paper, now.

[attic_girl]

"Go away!" She waves a hand at him, in an attempt to shoo him off. "There shouldn't be things flying about in here."

[petriedino]

"But there are other fliers here", he protests, wounded and dodging her hand. "Not like Petrie, but they are fliers."

[attic_girl]

She stops and stares up at him, head tilted.

"You can talk?"

[petriedino]

"...yes?"

[attic_girl]

"But you're just an animal." She feels compelled to point out.

[petriedino]

He doesn't really know that word so much.

"No, I am a flier", he says helpfully.

[attic_girl]

"But you're not a person, like me." A slow smile starts to spread across her face.

"Talking animals! This place gets better and better!"

[petriedino]

He beams at her obvious pleasure.

"Cera comes here too. She is a Three-Horn."

[attic_girl]

Petrie's like something out of a fairytale, or at least a rather good story. Like something she could only imagine before.

"Not a flier like you?"

[petriedino]

"No. She walks. The others who come here do not fly."

[attic_girl]

"Walks and has three horns. Is she very large?"