out of step from both Wild Roses and Pangaia . .
Title: the coffee pot IS a point of contention
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Dutch, Aodh, mentions Yasha
Prompt: 71C "spell"
Word Count: 747
Notes: Timeline wise, this would fall between enter doorman (link goes to a defunct writing journal--I need to revise the hell out of the piece anyway, and will repost it here after doing so), where Dutch gets landed with teaching duty, and by request (which also needs revision), where Yasha and Dutch have settled into a comfortable sort of bickering.
In the interest of brevity (too late!), Aodh can collapse a door but can't make his own (yet), Yasha's still opening completely by accident, and Dutch is starting to get seriously addicted to coffee.
Captaen Dutch-door of the Banifaen an Olfridulfr has a postal code at klgaffney's.
"Y'look beat, Dutch--I'll take t'watch," a familiar slur called from the doorway, and Dutch glanced up from the most recent pot of coffee, nodded a greeting.
"No, I'll be fine," he responded, "Kid's down for the night and I've got a pot on..."
"T'circles under your eyes say otherwise," Aodh said, half-grinning, like he looked any better himself. Between natural inquisitiveness and the continuing Problem of unintended Opening, the Kid was proving to be something of a challenge.
Not least because he was still having minor panic-flares at situation and company. There was an 87.3334% likelihood that Aodh was running at least two layers of interference--in addition to the interference with Dutch's coffee, which was now hovering mildly in the middle of the room, trying to meander its way towards the threshold between kitchen and hallway.
For human 'ish', Aodh made a very sneaky magis. Dutch gave him a look within a percentage point of the look he'd have given Harrier for the same trick, and got a grin in response that was within standard deviation, given the variations in facial characteristics between the two.
A flare of calculation-buzz made both of them turn their heads, and Dutch only beat Aodh to the closing because Aodh paused to catch the carafe before it shattered on the slate tiles.
"So where was tha' one headed?" Aodh inquired, perching on the countertop with the carafe gripped firmly in one hand, tensile strength of his fingers enough that it was technically beyond Dutch's current fine-door control to steal without preemptive retaliation, and maybe he really was tired.
He considered for a moment, running parameter checks, then translation for probable frame of reference for his audience. "Shere Khan?"
Aodh blinked once, then his face split in a broad grin. "Better'n Schro's cat again."
"Don't remind me," Dutch dragged both his hands down his face at the memory. "The headache might come back."
Aodh rattled off something laughing in a trilling, chirping language it would take a fair amount of analysis to sort out--unlike the bastardized near-French he slipped into when he wasn't paying attention--then tilted his head, eyes flicking briefly over the kitchen, before he took a long drink directly out of the carafe.
Which completely removed the plan to door the top of whatever mug he'd planned to use and drop it instead into Dutch's.
He paused for a moment, trying to calculate conversion rates between clicks and local hours, then frowned. "Have you gotten more than six hours of sleep in the last forty?"
"Oui," Aodh lied with a straight face, "shoehorned a good ten into the time you were trying to get him to practice doors in semi-solid surfaces. You?"
It wasn't an order, as such, but he reported anyway. "Six hours in the last twenty. That thing with the allosaur woke me up."
"Was ki'na exciting from the front end, too," Aodh agreed, and reached out to slap down a proto-door inside the jug of milk propped inside the iss-skokkr they'd rigged up a few days ago when the previous one became a casualty of experimentation.
They were still trying to figure out where it'd ended up. Certainly nowhere near the current one's location, either the section in the kitchen or the one on the iceberg.
Dutch tried to glare, gave it up as a bad job when he realised it was roughly 34% of standard intensity. "That was mine."
"Sorry," Aodh replied, and took another pull of the coffee, then slid down and started putting together a sandwich, not quite turning his back on Dutch even when he stuck his entire upper half into the depths of the iss-skokkr, small haze of blocking spells wrapped visibly around him as he did, then evaporating as he emerged again.
Harrier would probably trade something interesting for the calculations as to how to do that. He made a mental note to try to pass that along.
Aodh's knifework as he sliced bread was strangely familiar, and not in the way of bakers.
The pattern of mannerisms and behaviour suddenly snapped into focus, and without thinking Dutch said "When did the war end?"
Aodh's hands paused for a good five clicks, halfway between tasks, then he looked up, met Dutch's eyes from a moment. "I don't want to talk about it, Dutch. Go get some sleep."
Carefully swallowing back a host of new and rapid calculations, Dutch nodded, and took himself out of sight. He had something extra to add to his day's report to Trap.
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Dutch, Aodh, mentions Yasha
Prompt: 71C "spell"
Word Count: 747
Notes: Timeline wise, this would fall between enter doorman (link goes to a defunct writing journal--I need to revise the hell out of the piece anyway, and will repost it here after doing so), where Dutch gets landed with teaching duty, and by request (which also needs revision), where Yasha and Dutch have settled into a comfortable sort of bickering.
In the interest of brevity (too late!), Aodh can collapse a door but can't make his own (yet), Yasha's still opening completely by accident, and Dutch is starting to get seriously addicted to coffee.
Captaen Dutch-door of the Banifaen an Olfridulfr has a postal code at klgaffney's.
"Y'look beat, Dutch--I'll take t'watch," a familiar slur called from the doorway, and Dutch glanced up from the most recent pot of coffee, nodded a greeting.
"No, I'll be fine," he responded, "Kid's down for the night and I've got a pot on..."
"T'circles under your eyes say otherwise," Aodh said, half-grinning, like he looked any better himself. Between natural inquisitiveness and the continuing Problem of unintended Opening, the Kid was proving to be something of a challenge.
Not least because he was still having minor panic-flares at situation and company. There was an 87.3334% likelihood that Aodh was running at least two layers of interference--in addition to the interference with Dutch's coffee, which was now hovering mildly in the middle of the room, trying to meander its way towards the threshold between kitchen and hallway.
For human 'ish', Aodh made a very sneaky magis. Dutch gave him a look within a percentage point of the look he'd have given Harrier for the same trick, and got a grin in response that was within standard deviation, given the variations in facial characteristics between the two.
A flare of calculation-buzz made both of them turn their heads, and Dutch only beat Aodh to the closing because Aodh paused to catch the carafe before it shattered on the slate tiles.
"So where was tha' one headed?" Aodh inquired, perching on the countertop with the carafe gripped firmly in one hand, tensile strength of his fingers enough that it was technically beyond Dutch's current fine-door control to steal without preemptive retaliation, and maybe he really was tired.
He considered for a moment, running parameter checks, then translation for probable frame of reference for his audience. "Shere Khan?"
Aodh blinked once, then his face split in a broad grin. "Better'n Schro's cat again."
"Don't remind me," Dutch dragged both his hands down his face at the memory. "The headache might come back."
Aodh rattled off something laughing in a trilling, chirping language it would take a fair amount of analysis to sort out--unlike the bastardized near-French he slipped into when he wasn't paying attention--then tilted his head, eyes flicking briefly over the kitchen, before he took a long drink directly out of the carafe.
Which completely removed the plan to door the top of whatever mug he'd planned to use and drop it instead into Dutch's.
He paused for a moment, trying to calculate conversion rates between clicks and local hours, then frowned. "Have you gotten more than six hours of sleep in the last forty?"
"Oui," Aodh lied with a straight face, "shoehorned a good ten into the time you were trying to get him to practice doors in semi-solid surfaces. You?"
It wasn't an order, as such, but he reported anyway. "Six hours in the last twenty. That thing with the allosaur woke me up."
"Was ki'na exciting from the front end, too," Aodh agreed, and reached out to slap down a proto-door inside the jug of milk propped inside the iss-skokkr they'd rigged up a few days ago when the previous one became a casualty of experimentation.
They were still trying to figure out where it'd ended up. Certainly nowhere near the current one's location, either the section in the kitchen or the one on the iceberg.
Dutch tried to glare, gave it up as a bad job when he realised it was roughly 34% of standard intensity. "That was mine."
"Sorry," Aodh replied, and took another pull of the coffee, then slid down and started putting together a sandwich, not quite turning his back on Dutch even when he stuck his entire upper half into the depths of the iss-skokkr, small haze of blocking spells wrapped visibly around him as he did, then evaporating as he emerged again.
Harrier would probably trade something interesting for the calculations as to how to do that. He made a mental note to try to pass that along.
Aodh's knifework as he sliced bread was strangely familiar, and not in the way of bakers.
The pattern of mannerisms and behaviour suddenly snapped into focus, and without thinking Dutch said "When did the war end?"
Aodh's hands paused for a good five clicks, halfway between tasks, then he looked up, met Dutch's eyes from a moment. "I don't want to talk about it, Dutch. Go get some sleep."
Carefully swallowing back a host of new and rapid calculations, Dutch nodded, and took himself out of sight. He had something extra to add to his day's report to Trap.