Seeing as Sam's immortal, he'll probably manage to live without the Heimlich Manouevre.
Probably.
He's also totally not cheating with magic to accomplish the catching of the marshmallow. Well, otherwise would be a waste of sugar, and that would be tragic!
Up to the bar, near to Sam, practically bounces an auburn-haired wereleopard with lavender eyes. He looks quite a bit different since Sam last saw him. Healthier, a bit taller, hair a lot longer.
Nathaniel knows Asher will wake soon, and he has to take the bad news to the vampire that Anita's back. But, first, he will eat. Bad news after eating, and after bad news can be soothing of hurt feelings.
"Bar? I would like an orange Gatorade, a bowl of beef stew, and some bread, please?" He sits on a stool and waits for the food, cracking into the Gatorade as he shoves aside the mass of his hair.
Nathaniel turns his eyes from his drink to the one speaking and recognition enters the lavender eyes.
"No one's called me that in almost four years," he says, smiling. "In fact, the last time anyone called me that, it was here, where a rather nice gentleman fed me chips and pop."
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By which the narrative means: he sticks his tongue out.
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Probably.
He's also totally not cheating with magic to accomplish the catching of the marshmallow. Well, otherwise would be a waste of sugar, and that would be tragic!
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Hmmmmm...
Needs more Yrael.
*purrrrrrrr*
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Sam scritches obediently. He knows what people are for with regards to cats.
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Maybe that's just for not'cats.
There are purrings, yes there are. And a lap'not'cat for a Sam.
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"Oh no," Sam says, deadpan. "The Yrael has got me."
Someone, save him from this terrible fate.
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Nathaniel knows Asher will wake soon, and he has to take the bad news to the vampire that Anita's back. But, first, he will eat. Bad news after eating, and after bad news can be soothing of hurt feelings.
"Bar? I would like an orange Gatorade, a bowl of beef stew, and some bread, please?" He sits on a stool and waits for the food, cracking into the Gatorade as he shoves aside the mass of his hair.
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...Huh.
"Fucking Milliways," he says, mostly to himself, but he smiles as he pushes his hair out of his eyes.
"...Kiddo?"
Yes, that nickname is one Nathaniel's going to be stuck with.
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"No one's called me that in almost four years," he says, smiling. "In fact, the last time anyone called me that, it was here, where a rather nice gentleman fed me chips and pop."
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"Four years, huh?"
Sam chuckles, even as he mentally facepalms. "I think you may be stuck with it. Think you'll cope?"
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A Jack, being Jacky.
Not Jackie, though, Bar hasn't sprung a sex change on him again yet.
"Boo."
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Deadpan, "Eeep."
You really, really scared him, Jack!
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"Oh, Sam. You're so easy to intimidate."
Yes.
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"And if you'd only finished that sentence half-way..."
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She might be planning to drop one of the ice cubes from her drink into his shirt to wake him. Let it never be said she can't be tricky.
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"You are a particularly mean variety of Atlantean princess, if I'm reading that look correctly."
He's been a fighter for way too long. Catching him off-guard is not easy.
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Kida is a mean princess. Mean!
He smiles at her, though, if a trifle sleepily. "I'm awake enough. Albeit wishing I wasn't."
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