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[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

[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.

[iambetadraconis]

Don't get technical.

"Since when did you care about the well-being of others? You hate it when people show you concern. Why shouldn't the reverse be true?"

"Now's not the time for accusations, Rabastan.

"However, there's one small problem: keeping him from just creating another rockery while we wait for this to pass. I can't bar him from his own home, even for his own sake."

[herr_bookman]

Rabastan might get the impression that Autor is managing to pull off the feat of laughing at him while daintily nibbling on his sandwich. Rabastan would be correct.

"Now, now," the kid says smoothly, "don't make us resort to Dormitus to tame your belligerence."

Autor tilts his head at Elea's point. "True. Is there any way we can measure how long this will last? Do you still have the original rocks in your rockery, Rabastan? If we return them to the bar, I wonder if the lingering effects on you will dissipate."

[iambetadraconis]

The mutinous look from before only increases.

"Dunno. Maybe. Can't tell you which ones are the originals. There's a lot in the room," he grumbles.

"Sadly, I can believe this."

She stirs the contents of her bowl idly.

"Then my task is two-fold: a general charm on the one room you have, to keep you out of it, and to think of a way to keep what you currently have from spreading, as it were."

[herr_bookman]

And would you look at that? He's shaking in his boots.

"It doesn't seem likely that whatever he has will spread from him," Autor says, and sets the remaining three-quarters of his sandwich down. "We probably would have come down with it already, given how little time he spent in the presence of the rocks before becoming enamored with them. We'll need to find and deal with the original rocks eventually."

Then he grins. "In the meantime, Rabastan, it looks like you're going to have to find something else to do."

[iambetadraconis]

"Oh, I think I can keep Mr Lestrange occupied," she says with a smirk. This earns her a blush from Rabastan. "But I'm not worried about either of us catching his madness.

"It's the rockery I want to keep contained to its current location while I keep him busy."

[herr_bookman]

It will earn her a blush from Autor, too. A massively, massively delayed blush. He peers at her expression, bemused.

"What? They're rocks," he says. "I don't think they'll be moving on their own, nor should the room? This shouldn't be any trouble unless Rabastan wanders. You said you had a way of keeping him--"

Oh, now that smirk makes sense. And, look, there's the promised flush, bright red and covering his skin from collarbone to roots.

"Well!" he squeaks, dropping his half-eaten sandwich as he shoots straight into a standing position. "I have a thing! To do. Um. Thank you for lunch."

[iambetadraconis]

Pure, undiluted hilarity. That's Elea's unspoken response to Autor's delayed reaction.

He gets a wink as a reward for, in her estimation, blushing so cutely.

Elea has just found a new person to tease with her brand of suggestive talk.

"Finding new rocks to build a new rockery, Autor," she says with more of that satisfied smile. "I prefer that he did not."

She turns to look at Rabastan, and notices his own change in hue.

"I want you to empty out your pockets."

"What?"

"Your pockets. Empty them. I want to be sure you're not bringing in rocks on the sly."

Delaying his compliance by a full minute, the contents of his pockets are placed on the table.

Rocks, coins, the last remnants of a ball of yarn—

—and the colourful cube.

"Well. This is an interesting-looking object," she says, inspecting the Rubik's Cube. "Found this at the bar?"

[herr_bookman]

Oh, now she has his feathers ruffled. Still blushing, he launches into his usual nit-picking. And yes, he is just rude enough to speak directly over her.

"That's not the containment of the original room, that's building a new one and--ah," he starts, only to be interrupted when the colorful puzzle box tumbles out of Rabastan's pockets.

"What is that?" he says, sinking into his chair to better examine its properties. "Actually, no, we shouldn't look at this... thing. It might be enchanted, like the rocks."

Obviously he has stopped staring at it by now. That furrowed brow and canted head has nothing to do with the cube. Obviously.

Just a peek won't hurt, right?

[iambetadraconis]

"Are you being difficult on purpose, Autor? Or uncharacteristically obtuse?" Elea frowns slightly. "You're intelligent enough to know what I meant.

"The original room will be warded, and Rabastan will not be sneaking in rocks to start up a new one."

Since when did Autor need the Simple Explanation? He should've gotten it the first time.

Maybe he ought to get some sleep. His ability to grasp a concept is slipping from lack of proper rest.

"If it's enchanted I'm not feeling anything," Elea says, marveling at the toy. "Unless I'm mistaken the source of the enchantment is not in the objects themselves.

"We were both in the rockery with Rabastan, where the original rocks would likely be, and neither of us were affected.

"Still doesn't explain where it all comes from," she says, setting down the cube amongst the other items removed from Rabastan's pockets.

"I should hope that's all you had on you, love."

[herr_bookman]

Ohh. Whatever good graces Elea was in with Autor, she is now out of them. Warding the room was his idea; of course he understood what she meant. >:I He was just being pedantic.

"Is it possible," he says, snatching up the puzzle as soon as she sets it down, "that the enchantment on the rocks has already worn off, and this is just a residual effect? Or that it was a one-time snare?"

Six sides, six colors, he thinks irritably, twisting the cube's margins. This shouldn't be too difficult to figure out.

[iambetadraconis]

If being in your good graces involves putting up with your bullshit Autor, then maybe it's good that she's fallen out of them.

Go find someone to be a pedant with; Elea's not interested in that. Or any of your other mind games.

In the meantime go learn some social skills.

"I'd say both are likely. Either way, neither of us are in danger. I sensed no magics coming from anything Rabastan was carrying on him.

"Certainly not that object you're fussing with there."

[herr_bookman]

Pfft, social skills are overrated.

"So is it safe to assume that whatever Rabastan has will wear off?" he murmurs, a little too focused on manipulating the colored squares into something resembling sense.

[iambetadraconis]

Seeing as how Autor is about as pleasant as a hemorrhoid on his better days, it's not surprising he'd believe that about social skills.

"Certainly. In the meantime my main concern is in keeping him out of further trouble."

Obviously it's her main concern, since twisting the cube this way and that is Autor's.

[herr_bookman]

Goodness, then why have him over to the house?

Autor's cheeks flare up a little as he glances at her. "Right, you stated that you, um, had a way to do that? Should I leave?"

He'll take the cube, obviously.

[iambetadraconis]

Because Autor is Rabastan's friend?

Because maybe Autor can learn to not be so disagreeable towards other people?

Because Elea believes in being nice to people—even people who think antagonising others is perfectly acceptable behaviour?

"Goodness Autor. You'd have me believing that's all I did! Certainly, that's one way to keep him occupied, and one I won't turn down, but I have other tactics too.

"You can stay here, and play with your colourful toy. Rabastan and I are going for a walk about town.

"The book room is on the second floor, if you take the stairs at the opposite end of the hall that led to Rabastan's rock collection. One flight up, second door on the left. If you're interested?"

[herr_bookman]

Really, she shouldn't feel responsible for taming the shrew. The kid doesn't need to be socially babysat; just let him muddle through.

"You didn't--" he starts, but then stops when he nearly bites through his bottom lip in embarrassment. "That impression isn't the only... oh, never mind!"

Autor stands again, and straightens his blazer. "I don't mean to keep you," he says, and drains the remainder of his stew. "Lunch was very nice, and I hope the walk is passable. I'll leave you to it, but I'll be borrowing this, with the promise to return it shortly."

He holds up the cube, most of the colors of which he has already grouped into squares. Then he sketches a little bow and starts clearing his dishes from the table, intent upon leaving so that they can get to their walk.

[iambetadraconis]

Being nice is not taming. Especially if he learns better social skills on his own initiative.

Fostering such a change through good example is what she's hoping for here.

"Keep it," Rabastan says, getting up and levitating the remaining dirty dishes into the sink. "I can't figure it out."

"You are always welcome to visit, Autor. If not here, then my home in Meribia."

[herr_bookman]

Autor nods twice, and, tucking the cube under his arm, holds the door open for the three of them on their way out.

[iambetadraconis]

"I'm glad you came over today, Autor. It was good to see you again."

Pause. She'd stopped for a moment in the kitchen to retrieve something before she rejoined them at the door. And was giving it to Autor now.

"Here. There's some more of that tea, as well as the recipe. Enjoy."

[herr_bookman]

"Oh," Autor says, and chews on the inside of his cheek again. He's a little surprised that she cottoned on to his liking the tea. Did he mention such? He can't remember. "Thank you. I'll enjoy it."

He raises a brow at Rabastan. "Good luck with your rockery issue. Do let me know how it turns out."

Ever confident, he tucks that and The Language of Flowers under his arm, and strolls off into the afternoon.