(no subject)

[iambetadraconis]

You'd think by now he knew how things worked at the Bar at the End of the Universe to recognise its weird whenever it sprung up...

He didn't talk to the drunken man; only passed him by.

Innocent, for a beginning.

And an hour after that, he'd forgotten even that much.

But when he saw that oh-so-simple-looking cube, with all those colours...

He spent a good three hours twisting the damn thing this way and that, trying to figure it out and getting steadily more annoyed with it, before giving it up as a lost cause and deciding to hand it over to someone else instead, so that they could share the frustration.

It ended up in his pocket. Presumably for later.

With that little matter settled, he went about looking for something else to do.

That's when he made another discovery.

Contrary to popular opinion, rocks are not dull. They're interesting. Unique. Fascinating.

And the bloody things have their own personality, that you'd only discover once you've gotten and spent time with two or three of them.

Five or six.

Ten or twenty.

And now here, at his home in Lunar, one of the rooms has been transformed into a ... kennel? Stable? Rockery? full of rocks and stones of all sizes and kinds, much to Elea's amusement.

Or is it annoyance?

Well, while her beau spends time dusting his granite companions, she's sitting downstairs waiting for someone just a little more inclined to talk about far more normal things than whether basalt is given towards playfulness, or if flint rocks are happiest in groups.

She examines the kettle that's steadily heating up.

He should be here any minute now...

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Pfft! So does everyone.

Autor stalls a bit after she turns off the stove. He didn't intend to have Elea learn about the bar, really. Hence why he'd sent her away. But, figuring the damage is already done, he catches up to them.

"Wait, you have a permanent access point?" Autor says, raising a brow. "However did you manage that?"

Then he blinks, and steps forward to snatch Rabastan up by the sleeve. "Actually, it might be a bad idea to enter at this time, given the compulsion spell you have with the rocks. We might fall under a similar magic, and then where would we be?"

[iambetadraconis]

"It's not permanent," Rabastan corrects. "However, it is reliable enough that it will usually appear here if it appears anywhere in this house."

He stops when he feels Autor's grip on his clothing.

"What?"

Elea keeps going, until she realises that the only one still moving is herself.

However, she is in front of the door that tends to open to the bar.

"Well?" she asks them both, trying to maintain an air of scepticism despite her worries that Rabastan is, in fact, telling the truth. "Which one?"

There are three doors to choose from.

"That one," Rabastan indicates. "Behind you."

"I really hope that this is the truth I'm being told," she says, hand shaking as she takes the latch in it. "Althena help all of us if this is the product of an addled mind..."

"No. Let me open it. It might not recognise you as a patron," Rabastan says, pulling himself free.

The door is pushed open.

"Just look," he instructs her...

...strange sounds float out even though the door is only open a few inches...

[herr_bookman]

Autor steps back behind them and leans on the wall, folding his arms. He has no need to see the bar, though the sounds make him weirdly homesick. The boy deliberately chooses not to think on that.

More importantly, the bar has no need to see him--primarily Lohengrin. After all, leaving the Knight to his thoughts is one of the reasons he's on Lunar, right?

Come to think of it, he's not sure why he's even in the room. That cup of tea on the table is getting cold by now, surely, so unless Elea swoons and falls on him, he should probably head downstairs.

[iambetadraconis]

Elea can't believe what she's seeing, and for five solid minutes she can only gape at the inside of the bar.

But before she can do much more than stare, the scene begins to ripple and fade, becoming the familiar interior of the room.

A room mostly filled with chests of drawers and empty bookshelves [or rather, they appear empty, at least to anyone not meant to look at them.

Concealment charms are fun and useful.

"Did I just—? I mean, how— Althena, where did that come from?"

She turns to look at them both.

"Both of you. You've known about this place long before I did, didn't you?"

"Me? I've known about it for years, Elea."

[herr_bookman]

"Only a few months," Autor says, shrugging as if to say, don't look at me; I'm not part of this, really.

He's more interested in whether or not it was Rabastan who cast that charm, or the bar itself. The kid has seen a door ripple and fade before--or at least threaten to.

Adjusting his glasses, he cranes his head to get a better look into the room. "You weren't kidding when you said you only had a few books."

[iambetadraconis]

It's not Rabastan's magic at work, here. Somehow the bar must have decided not to allow Elea access, and cut her off before she could.

Also that kind of magic is a touch more advanced than even he could come up with.

"Most of the books are in another room, Autor," Rabastan informs. If only Autor could see what he and Elea can see.

Well. Good thing he can't—or shouldn't. The wards on the shelves are for Elea's and Rabastan's eyes only.

"If you want to see the rest, I'll show you."

"Save the books for another time, Rabastan," Elea says sharply. "I want to know how it got there and, more importantly, why you've kept this from me for so long."

He flinches at her expression of acute disapproval.

"Truthfully? I don't know how it got there. This bar has a talent for appearing where it wants to. Either it's a regular access point, like this room, or it can show up anywhere it wants, and take you by surprise.

"As to why... Well... You would have thought me mad for saying we had a bar that appears at semi-predictable intervals in this house of mine. Without proof that it does."

[herr_bookman]

Aw, a domestic dispute. How adorable. Autor has the audacity to yawn. Primarily to mask his discomfort at being privy to something he really has nothing to do with, but also because he last slept on... Monday? He thinks? Maybe Sunday? I know I had a nap in there somewhere. He writes it off as having just too much work to do to worry about that sort of thing.

"But you've seen it now, right?" he says, lazing against the wall. In so much as he ever lazes, or even can. "So Rabastan's not mad--aside from the whole rock business."

Honestly, he really shouldn't say anything. He'll only make the situation worse.

Clearly there's something interesting in that room, but given the amount of flushing Elea was doing earlier... Well. Autor's finding his natural inclination to investigate is a little dulled tonight, strangely enough.

[iambetadraconis]

Getting sufficient sleep makes a person more alert when they're awake. You should try it some time.

Seriously. We're surprised you haven't caused yourself an injury brought about by sleep deprivation.

Or suffered a lack-of-sleep related illness.

Deflating considerably, Elea just shakes her head.

"You should be able to trust me as much as you love me, Rabastan." Her voice is weary. "You should be able to tell me the truth of things, no matter how improbable they sound, or how mad it might make you appear."

[herr_bookman]

You're kidding, right? Illness is his peanut butter, and stupidity-induced injury his jelly. Life at the bar is actually healthier for him.

Plus, he's been getting loads of sleep on Lunar. Comparatively.

Autor is strongly considering diving into his sylladex for a book. Surely he's not needed in this conversation, right? He can retrieve them without speaking, so... yes, he's going for it.

Shortly after opening a leather-bound journal, he causes The Language of Flowers to quietly appear from thin air. Then he leans against the wall again, tucking the sylladex into his pocket and tucking his nose into the second book. He appears, for all intents and purposes, to have tuned everything else out.

[iambetadraconis]

If the last time you slept properly was days ago...

And ew. Peanut butter and jelly. Yuck.

More sighing.

"Come on. Let's go downstairs. Get some lunch. We can talk this over after we've eaten."

More shaking her head.

"I can only wonder how much in the way of secrets you're keeping from me, Rabastan."

[herr_bookman]

"Not that my opinion matters much," Autor pipes up while following behind them, "but a secret now and then isn't such a bad thing. I'm sure you have some yourself."

He is, of course, reading while walking. "Valerian, Red: An accommodating disposition." Ha! Not in the slightest.

[iambetadraconis]

Pay attention to what you're doing, Autor, or you'll find yourself tumbling down the flight of stairs not more than two yards from you.

"I'm not asking him for every single secret, Autor," she says, not looking behind to see where he is. "What I am asking is that he trust me enough that he can tell me things willingly, rather than wait for something beyond his control to come and force him to."

Pause.

"Surely even you know the difference between them?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor has had a lot of practice not tumbling down stairs. All the same, he glances up at the back of Elea's head. "What was for lunch, anyway?" he says quietly. "You showed me how to make it, but never told me the name."

Then he turns back to his book. "Thorn Apple: Deceitful charms." Yes, that suits the girl very well.

[iambetadraconis]

"Make some of it, you mean," she says as she reaches the main level of the house. "I was going to put some water to boil and make a soup or a stew out of it.

"Not sure now. Maybe I'll improvise something. Don't worry though. It will still be good, and I'll give you two some sandwiches to eat while it cooks."

[herr_bookman]

"Lilac, White: Majesty, Purity, Innocence." Hmm.

"Is there anything I can do to help out with that?" Autor murmurs quietly. He doesn't quite know why he's offering.

He does, however, manage to tear his eyes away from his pages just long enough to check on Rabastan, who has been uncharacteristically quiet. Well. Autor knows how to fix that. He pokes the wizard with his book.

[iambetadraconis]

Predictably, there is swatting. And complaints. And admonishments as they enter the kitchen.

"If you wish. I need someone to slice the rolls partway, then..."

She goes about looking through the ice box for something.

A leafy vegetable, plus a spread, meat and cheese as well as smaller, choppable vegetables are handed in succession.

"See what you can make with those, plus the rolls.

"And no poking my boyfriend, either."

[herr_bookman]

And dodging, and grinning. He could get used to this, though he probably shouldn't. "He can defend himself, I think," Autor says confidently, setting his book aside to take up a knife.

Surprisingly, he's fairly competent in a kitchen, so they have three decently assembled sandwiches and chopped vegetables in short order.

[iambetadraconis]

Taking her own, she resumes preparing the rest of their lunch while Rabastan makes short work of his sandwich.

"Yes, he can, but I don't want you two squabbling in this house."

She had to remind herself that it wasn't her house, despite her spending a lot of time here.

Grabbing the rest of the food, some oil and a deep skillet, she whips up something between a stir-fry and a stew for the three of them to enjoy.

It's actually pretty good, all things considered.

"Tell me more about this bar of yours that sometimes appears in this house," she asks the pair of them. "I'd ask if it were dangerous, but neither of you seem to be harmed by it. Present situation notwithstanding."

[herr_bookman]

"This isn't squabbling," Autor says primly, popping his nose in the air.

"The bar doesn't make any sense," he says, ignoring his sandwich in favor of picking up his book. Why yes, he is just rude enough to open it at the table, but whether he reads it remains to be seen. "And yes, it's dangerous, of course it is. Magic always is, and that place is steeped in it--though there is an enforced neutrality among the patrons, strangely enough."

Then he raises a brow at the wizard again. Really, he should have some input.

[iambetadraconis]

"No, but I wouldn't be surprised you two do this regularly, and that squabbling is the end result."

The stew/stir fry is ladled into three bowls, then handed out.

"I can imagine that magic is dangerous. I do use it myself."

Spoons are handed out after the bowls.

"But if it's going to hurt Rabastan, I don't think I'd be pleased to hear that it's caused him harm again if he keeps going back."

"It's not that dangerous," Rabastan protests. "Mostly it's just weird."

Once you take out things like Allpocalypses and creatures such as Slenderman.

"Milliways is a nice place. Before I came here, it was home to me."

"So. It has a name." She stirs her bowl. "Well. Why should it not have a name? Taverns always have names. Magical ones shouldn't be that different."

[herr_bookman]

Autor can't help but smirk a bit at her correct assessment. For a brief moment, he'd thought to be chastised, but he's in too cheery a mood for that. Strange, really.

And he doesn't need a bowl of the stew-stir fry hybrid; he has barely touched his sandwich. A few of the vegetables were tasty, though.

He's tempted to say something along the lines of, "Goodness, Elea, have faith, the man can take care of himself," but if Rabastan can't or won't defend himself to her, well... That sort of renders the point moot. The wizard seems to be doing a fine job of it, really.

So he retreats to his book again. "Azalea: Take care of yourself for me." Hahaha!

[iambetadraconis]

Eat it Autor, or the food will go to waste, and we know you hate wasted food.

"Elea, I promise you. It's not dangerous," he continues in protest.

"Love, I believe you. Milliways has clearly not harmed you. But you are still acting odd here."

[herr_bookman]

This logic is why he avoids ordering food in the first place. He picks up his sandwich.

"I agree," Autor says, after swallowing his first bite. "This is strange even for you. Do you have an alternative to casting a repulsion spell on the rockery room while we figure this out?"

[iambetadraconis]

You'll have to order food sometime. You can't live on air and water you know.

"I should be able to come up with something," Elea offers, before Rabastan can say anything.

It earns her a mutinous look from Rabastan.

He gets a look of "for your own good" back.

"We do have magics for just about everything here. Even repelling charms."

"Whose side are you on, anyways?"

"Rabastan, you're not well. Don't give me that look—this is for your own good while we wait for whatever's wrong with you to wear off. Assuming this is magically-based."

[herr_bookman]

Correction: air and tea.

"Oh, come now, Rabastan," Autor says. "Be reasonable. Your well-being here is paramount. She's just trying to ensure your safety, and see? She even has the magic required to do it."

That smug smile of his has nothing to do with what he says. Really.