(Untitled)

[fairytaleknight]

It's been -- weeks? months? days? a single day repeated over and over? -- since Fakir last came to Milliways. The weather of Goldkronedorf has been sunny and indeterminately warm, except twice when ominous clouds hovered over the clock tower just for the sake of variety. Mr. Cat has led lessons on pointe technique and pas de deux and demonstrated

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[hadyougoing]

One Ava Wilson, in smart slacks and a decidedly slouchier t-shirt, is carrying a small stack of books down to the Bar. She sets them down, hastily scribbles a note-- Rue: Hope you like them, they're due back in three weeks (more or less), Ava-- and orders some curry (not the body-swapping kind).

Unfortunately, a busy waitrat causes her to nnnearly spill said curry onto--

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

(Nothing has actually spilled, but it was a scarily close call.)

[fairytaleknight]

"It's all right. As long as you didn't spill it on my paper," Fakir says.

"I really don't want to write it again." For the third time.

Beat.

Beat.

Oh, right, introductions.

"I'm Fakir."

[hadyougoing]

"Hi Fakir!"

Ava is still having faint anxiety over the hypothetical loss of her curry onto somebody's shoes, but smiles as she glances to his curryless paper.

"I'm Ava. Uh. What're you working on?"

Has Milliways become a Big Brother/Big Sister program over the past 72 hours?

[fairytaleknight]

"Homework. Nothing important." Fakir shrugs.

"Sit down before your dinner lands on someone."

[hadyougoing]

Ava's smile is not as bright, but more genuinely amused as she sets down her food and pulls out the chair opposite.

"Thanks," she says.

"I should probably be trying to calm down ... long day. I'm still a little jittery."

[fairytaleknight]

"That explains it." Fakir doesn't smile back, but at least his expression is more or less polite. "What kind of long day?"

[hadyougoing]

She shakes her head, taking an experimental spoonful of curry.

Hrm. Still too hot.

"Mmh-- mostly answering calls." To vengeance. "I'm a secretary. People get so aggressive on the phone."

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir does his best to look like he knows what the word 'phone' means.

"Oh, I see," he lies.

[hadyougoing]

Ava interprets this as polite lack of interest, and shrugs accordingly.

"Anyway! Conflict kind of makes me nervous," another inside joke, "sooo sometimes it takes me awhile to unwind."

She should also probably shower. She hates post-demon smell.

"... Let me know if I'm distracting you from your work, by the way."

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir shrugs, a quick graceful move of one shoulder. "Not really. It's easy."

Mostly because Fakir's already written this essay once.

"What is that you're eating?"

[hadyougoing]

"Vegetarian curry?" Ava says.

"It's kind of an acquired taste, but it's good!" It looks sort of like a rich orangey stew, some vegetables discernible. "Bar is pretty awesome about food."

[fairytaleknight]

"I've never smelled anything like it." It's not a bad smell, Fakir decides, just strange.

[hadyougoing]

"Do you want to try?" Ava holds up her spoon.

"I guess it's not exactly sanitary ... but I don't think I have any germs."

[fairytaleknight]

"No."

Fakir absolutely refuses to share spoons.

"...Thank you."

[hadyougoing]

"Sorry." Ava winches sympathetically.

"Uhh. You should ask for some sometime, anyway, although fair warning: I didn't like this stuff until I was like nineteen."

[fairytaleknight]

Fakir's expression flickers, just for a moment: his eyes blink, his lips twist. Nineteen? A moment later, he's wearing his usual scowl.

Fakir waves at the nearest waitrat. When it arrives, Fakir says, "Could you get me a bowl of -- what did you say it was? -- vegetarian curry?"

There's no reason to wait, after all.