[ic] Packing List

[whydidithavetobemummies]

Okay, here's what I've got.

• Clothes.
• Thompson.
• Colt one.
• Someone's ridiculous Derringer. Actually, I'm not carrying that around in public.
• Colt two.
• BAR.
• New gun bag. Some nine-thousand-year-old thing came back from the dead long enough to eat my old one.
• Sandwiches.

Anyone else got any bright ideas? Evy, suggestions?

Comments

[proudofwhatiam]

And if no one's here, we'll be in the kitchens anyhow. [She tries to guess which restaurant would be the most accommodating to a dusty librarian and treasure-hunter and points to a cafe called Le Poisson Rouge.] What do you think of that one?

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Rick's limited amount of French tells him... sure, why not. At least he knows how to make this sort of romantic. He holds his arm out for Evy to take.] Shall we?

[proudofwhatiam]

I think so. [She takes his arm and smiles all the way to the entrance of the cafe, where a small posted sign sends her frowning in some confusion.] "If you expect a meal, you needn't make it: Simply Ask." It is like an enchanted castle in here.

[whydidithavetobemummies]

Huh. Well, I want a steak. [He cups his free hand over his mouth while he says it, but doesn't raise his voice at all. That would be rude.]

[proudofwhatiam]

And I wouldn't mind some roast quail, but surely that's not--

[And then a little silver cart rolls out to a table set for two.]

Well. I suppose this means we've got our wish.

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Rick smiles, a little twitch of his mouth, and walks out ahead to pull Evy's chair out for her. That's how this all works, right?] Nifty. It'll be nice to have some food without any sand in it.

[proudofwhatiam]

[A gentleman! How sweet. Evy takes her seat with a smile of thanks, then reaches for one of the plates and lifts off the silver plate cover. As requested, roasted quail, accompanied by a red-wine sauce and what look to be fresh figs.] Oh, this looks heavenly. I rather think we've earned a sandless meal, at this point.

[whydidithavetobemummies]

After saving the world, I hope we've earned sand-free dinners for at least a week. [Rick uncovers his food to find exactly what he'd ordered.] Well, would you look at that... bon appetit?

[proudofwhatiam]

Bon appétit. [After a few bites, she frowns; hunger hasn't entirely overtaken her ability to question, particularly not after the edge is taken off.] Rick...this is quite good, but you don't think it could be some kind of a--a setup, do you?

[whydidithavetobemummies]

Could be, I guess. Kind of sneaky to poison us, don't you think? [Rick takes a swig of wine, unconscious of social graces.]

[proudofwhatiam]

I suppose so. [Here, Rick, she'll lead by example: hold the glass by the stem and take a delicate sip.] Perhaps we'll just have to be careful not to pick any roses. I'd hate to upset the master of this place, whoever he is.

[whydidithavetobemummies]

I dunno, he seems pretty accommodating to me. [Rick follows by example without comment. He knows how to drink wine from a wineglass in theory...] If it is all a trap, we'll know soon enough.

[proudofwhatiam]

Accommodating so far as we don't incur his wrath. [Now she's joking, shades of the ~*~spooooooky~*~ voice coming out.] Until then, I suppose some exploring couldn't hurt.

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Rick sighs.] You keep saying that. [But he smiles and looks around while he eats his steak-- not particularly delicately, at that.] I'll put 'not incurring the wrath of some casino guy' on my list of personal goals. What d'you wanna see?

[proudofwhatiam]

Well, this time, it might be true. [And she goes back to her own dish, picking up one of the figs with her fingers and taking a bite. That's good etiquette, actually, because etiquette is a curious beast.] I'm not sure. This place lacks much for history, according to the map. It's like a city with all the most interesting bits plucked out.

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Luckily, Rick assumes Evy always has good etiquette.] Yeah, the people. [He's gonna take a shot in the dark, but in this case, it's more like a guided missile.] I bet this place has got a library.

[proudofwhatiam]

[Well, there's always the danger of looking a bit indelicate when eating fruit in such a way, but it can't be helped here.] The people, the museums, the open spaces... [And her eyes light up at this idea--good one, Rick.] Or, at the very least, a bookshop. I didn't see any references to a library, but they've all sorts of stores a floor down.

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Rick looks equally pleased-- she's so pretty when she smiles.] Let's go there, next, and raid their supplies.

[proudofwhatiam]

Yes, do let's. [And they finish off their meal, however long that takes them, and then it's time for some exploration.] If they've a shop for bathing suits, perhaps we can go for a swim later, too. [A real swim this time, not one where she's thrown into the Nile unawares. :|]

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Rick smiles a bit cautiously at this idea. It sounds... nice.] Sounds like a plan. [He finishes his meal and sets it aside, figuring whatever magical pixies made the food can clean it up, too. He stands, and offers Evy his arm again. Hey, it worked last time.] Alright, bookshop first?

[proudofwhatiam]

[Perhaps it's a bit daring as far as offers go, but it's not as though he hasn't seen her dishabille before. That's her justification, anyway. She takes his arm, and they head back toward the lift.] Yes, I think so.

[When they arrive on the third floor, there is, indeed, a dusty old bookshop--one in which one might have expected to find a young lady with a rather strong jawline and a prematurely aged-looking man, had one come just a bit later. Along the long, wide corridor of shops, made up to look like a little side street in Paris, there's also various shops for men's and women's fashion, including one dedicated to bathing wear, and--perhaps most interesting to certain members of the party--a gun shop.]

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Rick lets out an appreciative whistle at the... bookstore and gun shop. Gotta appreciate what you have. He hopes, privately, Evy doesn't think he was whirling at the bathing suits. That would also be rude.] Well, would you look at that. This what you were looking for?

[proudofwhatiam]

[That is a nice bookstore; anyone with sense would be possessed of a desire to whistle.] It is--oh, look at it. I'll try not to be too long...

[whydidithavetobemummies]

[Rick laughs and lets her go. Maybe she likes to browse in private.] Whistle if you find anything good. I'll be over there. [And away to gun-shopping we go.]

[proudofwhatiam]

You, too. [Evy simply suspects that given his options, the bookshop is not where Rick would like to spend his time. So she heads off, intent on seeing whether any books can be found about this particular form of Coquaigne. There are none, so after finding a few history books that look interesting, she wanders over to the gun shop. She's an artless shot, but she's starting to appreciate firearms on something of an aesthetic level, if nothing else. The pistols with their mother-of-pearl handles are particularly lovely.]