(Untitled)

[slayer_fray]

Your Security Officer for the evening comes into the bar from the Staff Quarters, hops on to the bar at that end, and then walks on her hands for the entire length of the bar, interupted only by the occasional cartwheel or somersault. Then she flips onto a stool at the far end and orders herself a Tequila and a plate of fried paradoxes.

They are

Comments

[not_his_son]

They look complicated. But they smell delicious.

"What're those?" Jason asks, swivelling on his stool to face her and gesturing at her foods.

He's still sullen about having been dragged back here. He only just stormed out! Well, okay, a couple weeks ago, but he still doesn't approve.

[slayer_fray]

"Fried paradox."

Heads up, Jay. One is being thrown your way.

Mel gives him a cheeky grin, with only a faint quirk to it as she tries to assess how he's doing.

[not_his_son]

"Huh."

He apparently finds it adequate. And tasty. She gets a thumbs up for it.

"How you doing here, anyway?"

[slayer_fray]

A shrug fills the gap while Mel decides whether to tell the truth or not.

She decides for it, on this occasion.

"I'm alive. No news is good, I guess."

[hey35nholding]

Clementine, ex-gymnast that she is, is impressed with any acrobatic displays. She applauds Mel once the display's over. "I could never stick a landing like that," she calls over.

[slayer_fray]

Mel looks up, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Any landing with sak at the end of it's a good landing."

[hey35nholding]

"Any landing where you don't bust open your face is a good one." Clementine acknowledges. "I used to do gymnastics when I was a kid."

[slayer_fray]

"Yeah?" Mel asks, tilting the dish of paradoxes Clem's way in invitation to join her. "Why'd you quit?"