(Untitled)

[ecrivez_moivite]

oom: droit devant soi on ne peut pas aller bien loin… - text from le petit princeThe pilot seems unusually chipper tonight, strolling in with his hands in his pockets and heading straight for the bar. With a quiet request, he procures a cigarette from Lady Bar, and, as he sticks it between his lips, gets a lighter, too

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[wheatencrown]

Demeter sets a loaf of warm bread into his hands and gives him a kiss on the lips,

"Bonsoir."

[ecrivez_moivite]

Fortunately, the cigarette's safely between his fingers by the time she kisses him.

He grins at her as he takes the loaf, offering a quick, "Bonsoir! Comment allez-vous?"

[wheatencrown]

"Bien, tres bien et tu?"

She sits down next to him and gets some honey to put on the bread as she checks him over for any new injuries.

[ecrivez_moivite]

He hasn't been flying, so he's relatively spotless.

"Pas mal."

[precocioustilda]

Let's say it's been a few minutes since the end of Tilda's shift.

She wanders towards Bar with a book in one hand. Beowulf, as it happens. An old favourite.

When she sees the pilot, and more particularly his cigarette, she stops and tilts her head curiously at him.

Not so often Matilda sees those around Bar.

[ecrivez_moivite]

Matilda is offered a friendly smile in response, along with a quick nod of his head.

"Bonsoir, mademoiselle."

(He'll comment on the book in a bit.)

[precocioustilda]

"Bonsoir, m'sieur!"

She brightens a bit.

Not often she hears French around Bar, either.

[ecrivez_moivite]

That response garners a grin.

"Comment allez-vous?"