(Untitled)

[there_is_a_me]

Spoon went through a fair number of apartments last night, but- as he'd expected- failed to find any caches of alcohol in any of them. Which sucked, but eh, what could you do. Eventually he found an apartment that would suit- not too much shite on the walls, a structurally sound ceiling, south-facing windows- and settled in for the night. Even with

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[usedtobeone]

How about a teenage girl?

... no, not very edible, are they.

There is, however, a Veronica, standing in the hallway reading some sort of magazine. It might be on computers, but it's hard to tell considering it's all in a modified form of complicated Mandarin Chinese.

She's managed to look confused.

[there_is_a_me]

Generally, no, jokes the the contrary. On the other hand-

-well, on the other hand Spoon can now count the number of women he's seen since coming here on more than two fingers, and buggrit, every last one of 'em is so far underage he'd have to go to Scotland to avoid the law if someone made a fuss.

Oh well.

"Oi," he calls when he spots the girl. "What've you got there, eh?"

[usedtobeone]

Veronica is eighteen! Which makes her very technically not underage.

More like ... just 'age,' since she's not really overage either.

"Magazine from the mall. Or else I think it's a magazine. It could be a catalog, I can't read a word. Veronica Mars," she adds, offering a hand over her shoulder.

[there_is_a_me]

Brilliant. That's only about ten years of difference, really.

Spoon reaches over to shake the hand. "Private Witherspoon," he says. "Most folks just call me Spoon. There's a mall?"

He casts a glance at the magazine.

"... fuck. We're in China?"

[somebodysdog]

Angua, meanwhile, has found the flat in which someone's been stockpiling a pile of dried food, and metal tins bearing labels which read like food. Nos she just needs to figure out how to get in them.

Hearing someone in the corridor, she pokes her head out round the door. "Hey..."

[there_is_a_me]

Ting.

The last attractive woman Spoon ran across started off as a ticket out of Hell and turned out to be anything but. Spoon stops in his tracks, blinking, and smiles. "Well, hullo there-"

There's an odd prickling along his spine, but he ignores it.

[somebodysdog]

"Hi," she repeats, almost distractedly. She doesn't really need that kind of reaction right now.

Instead she holds up one of those round cylinders she found. One that promises some sort of cooked bean food. "Um. I don't suppose you know how to open one of these?"

Yes, she sounds like a damsel in distress. Yes, she hates that she does so, but yes, she's also hungry, and she doesn't much care.

[there_is_a_me]

Spoon hasn't got this far in life by common sense alone. At the request he pushes down the reaction and holds out a can. "Oh, yeah," he says. "Give it here."

He pulls his Swiss Army knife out of one pocket and extracts the tin-opener attachment, which he starts working around the top of the tin one puncture at a time. As he does so he asks, "Couldn't find an opener, eh?"

The alternative is that she's never seen one before at all, which he might believe of Katara, but which seems a bit weird in someone older for some reason.