mountains beyond mountains,

[hungrylike]

So, yeah, like, this place has all sorts of things, more'n I thought there'd be of what I was looking for, but there ain't any people I seen yet. Anybody around out there? Me, I'll be in the cafe, I guess. I'm brilliant with burgers.

Comments

[sebastard]

[Sebastian wants to make a good entrance, since this is the first one he's gotten a chance at--the fellow's right, there aren't a lot of people about. So some powder and a few touch-ups to face and hair later, a pretty ginger walks into a bar Tom's restaurant. Sebastian heads towards the kitchen, glancing in towards the...oh, the skinhead who's making his lunch.

Well, he'll have to play this one carefully, won't he? Pretty and coquettish and perhaps making more of an effort to pitch his voice than usual.]

I hope you're the bloke who promised to make me fish and chips, or I've got the wrong shop.

[hungrylike]

[Tom turns and smiles, earnest and guileless. He wasn't expecting a nice lady, but then again, he's not really sure what he was expecting. Best not to judge.] Oy, you're just in time.

[He fiddles with the food a bit, and puts it unceremoniously on the nearest paper plate.] There you are.

[sebastard]

[Oh, that smells really good. And looks really good. Also like it might be too hot to pick up. Sebastian goes hunting for a fork--it's not how you're supposed to eat fish and chips, but he doesn't want to get grease all over his fingers.]

This looks really lovely, thank you. D'you work here?

[hungrylike]

Aw, no. But I work in a cafe, back home. [He looks around, smiling, awed.] This place's just like it, really. I mean, except, the one at home's on a street corner.

[sebastard]

Yeah? [And Sebastian takes a careful bite of the hot fish. And then another. He gestures to it with the fork.] This is brilliant.

[hungrylike]

Yeah, uh. Working there for a while... [He watches the girl eat a bit, and then steps out to hold out his hand with obvious enthusiasm.] I'm Tom.

[sebastard]

How nice. [And Sebastian shakes his hand, fairly firmly.] I'm Viola. Nice to meet you, Tom.

[hungrylike]

[Tom just keeps on smiling.] You, eh, you been here long, Miss Viola?

[sebastard]

Oh, you don't have to call me 'Miss.' [A charming smile right back atcha, Tom.] I haven't been here too long--a day or two.

[hungrylike]

Oh, wow. I've been here... a few hours? [He looks around at the great echoing emptiness of it all.] Must've been lonely.

[sebastard]

Oh, a--a little, I suppose. [More than a little. Sebastian hates being alone.] But there's all the makeup I could want! A girl can't really complain.

[hungrylike]

[Tom nods and smiles a little-- the idea is just funny to him.] Really, huh? This place has all kinds-- there was a- uh... [apothecary and gunnery] a few nice shops, I saw.

[sebastard]

Yeah. Lots of boutiques. [Sebastian's holiday wardrobe has grown in leaps and bounds, suits and sundresses both.] And there's a stage with a piano down a few floors, it's just like a cabaret.

[hungrylike]

A piano? I've never seen one up close. [Tom smile, and then, thinking further, frowns, considering.] Where've you been staying? I mean, if there's no quick way to get home...

[sebastard]

[Sebastian frowns--seriously, who hasn't seen a piano?--before smiling again.] Maybe I can play for you later, hmm? Show you how it works.

[Another forkful of fish and a chip or two, and he shrugs.] There're rooms upstairs.

[hungrylike]

[And Tom positively beams.] Really? That's the one with keys, yeah?

[He looks around again in muted wonder. This is such a big building-- even bigger than the mall.] Huh. I haven't looked around much.

[sebastard]

Yes, the one with the keys. [Maybe they didn't teach music at this bloke's school. His smile is affecting, in any case.]

Nothing but rooms upstairs. I don't know how high up they go, but there're plenty.

[hungrylike]

[Tom is just happy to have someone to talk to. He doesn't like being alone, either.] You- you play?

[And then, without blinking or changing his expression:] Are they fortified?

[sebastard]

Yeah. I mean--I'm not amazing or anything, but I do all right.

[Blank stare.] Fortified?

[hungrylike]

Rubbish, I'm sure you're great. [He certainly wouldn't know.]

Y'know, against an attack.

[sebastard]

We'll see--I'll play you a song or two, you can decide for yourself.

[And so he smiles at Tom. And then frowns a bit, because fortification? Really?]

What kind of an attack?

[hungrylike]

Oh- I don't know what kind of songs you can play on the piano.

[Vampires.] Oh, you know, burglars and that. Best to keep safe and all.

[sebastard]

All kinds of songs. [Sebastian shrugs.] What kind of music d'you like?

Well, uh. I mean, the doors have locks. What kind of fortifications do you want?

[hungrylike]

[This stops Tom short.] ....Don't much listen to music, me.

Oh, that's good. [That, and the crucifixes he has in a bag under the counter... should be good enough to star with.] You just never know, with places you never been.

[sebastard]

Oh. Then it'll be a surprise, what you can play on a piano.

I guess not. [Pause. What do you say after that odd little interlude?] So where're you from, Tom?