|
|
Post by Kari Muffin on Jun 23, 2010 13:37:28 GMT -5
Penny would have preferred to sit in a brighter part of the bar, but she wasn't going to argue. She was lucky enough to get this far with the pretty woman. Most people would have been distracted by someone more interesting by now. Thankfully the bar didn't have anyone more fascinating wandering around.
Penny hopped up on a seat her ears panning forwards at the mention of her getting a drink. Helen was quite right about going out drinking only to have the other person remain completely sober. She could get away with getting a non alcoholic drink, but where was the fun in that?
The bar maid appeared out of seemingly nowhere to get their orders. Apparently it was a slow night.
"I'll have a Red Devil if you serve mixed drinks. If not, feel free to surprise me." She said with a toothy grin. She really hoped they wouldn't surprise her. It took a good deal of bravery for her to even order a drink.
"You know... I've never met a Jossigy who had a mane as bright as yours."
|
|
|
|
Post by Bee on Jun 24, 2010 0:18:51 GMT -5
Helena smiled at her as her hair curled around itself at the ends in a somewhat coquettish gesture. She was pleased it didn't totally have a life of it's own, like Mom's did, but it was prone to ticks and unconscious movement the same as any limb. Whether the Esterberry meant it in the spirit of academic interest or not (and who could tell, really?), she enjoyed compliments in whatever package they were delivered in, and decided to be hopeful.
Helena got her vodka rocks, and the Esterberry got her Red Devil shortly after. She was faintly aware that somehow, Simcha had migrated completely to the back of her neck, as though hiding. Poor thing.
"Lucky genes and good shampoo, I guess. Dad's is green. Do green and pink make blue?" She tugged on a lock of hair with one hand and downed half her vodka with the other. "Anyway, I take special care of this mess. It gets fussy if I don't."
|
|
|
|
Post by Kari Muffin on Jun 27, 2010 3:49:21 GMT -5
Petunia blinked a few times. She hadn't had a single ounce of alcohol, but she could have sworn she was hallucinating. Had that thing around her neck moved? Was that even possible? Why hadn't she noticed that earlier?
And was her hair moving on its own accord?
Penny took a deep breath.
Doing her best to contain her utter glee of finding someone so interesting by chance, the canine mix took a sip of her drink. It would at least prevent her form bouncing up and down with excitement like a four year old for now. If she got drunk that was another story.
"I was never particularly good in the sciences, but color theory says otherwise," she said as she struggled not to cough at the amount of alcohol in her drink. Last time she had something like this it was far more flavored.
Tilting her head to the side she looked at the woman for a seemly long moment. Yes. That thing on her neck had moved. "I.... hate to sound so rude but what exactly is that around your neck? It looks like a fur but I wouldn't want to assume anything. I just noticed it because it shifted so drastically,"
|
|
|
|
Post by Bee on Jun 29, 2010 13:20:27 GMT -5
Helena carelessly downed the other half of her vodka, felt like ordering something fruity, and did so. She had been told by Raniya’s mother’s contact that Simcha had probably really been a genuine Rabbit, and the weird statue she’d fused with had given her the shape of one, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to divulge that information yet. Some people reacted funny to the mention of them. Though she was sure an Esterberry would look at it all rationally, she didn’t want to put Simcha in any potential danger or hurt her feelings.
“That’s Simcha,” she said, happily. “She is my dearest companion. I don’t think she likes you very much, but she doesn’t like much of anybody, so don’t take offense. She doesn’t like being away from me so I usually tote her around like a scarf or a hat. Except when she sleeps, which…” She tried to find a clock. Ah, there. “She will do in a couple of hours. It’s a very inconvenient timetable, but what can you do.” She poked at Simcha with a lock of hair. “Come on, Simmy, say hi to the nice lady.”
There was a long pause. Then, a quiet, soft, near-whisper: “Hello.”
“There! See? That wasn’t hard.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Kari Muffin on Jul 5, 2010 23:28:24 GMT -5
Petunia was... stunned. That was the only word that actually came to mind as she stared at the little thing around the woman's neck. She had hardly expected whatever it was to talk, so when it did she was more than a little surprised.
And it was fairly obvious from her expression which she did her best to hide with a long drink of alcohol. That only made her throat burn in protest.
Petunia failed at being a smooth operator. She might as well give up at this point. The canine mix tapped her paws lightly on the table. "Hello... Simcha, nice to meet you." She said waving a paw.
She was happy when the waitress set another drink on the table with out her asking. It made things a bit easier and less embarrassing. She took a long sip of the drink before saying anything else. "You know, it's not every day that I see someone wearing someone else. Unless you're just really good at ventriloquism."
Penny hoped it was that. That made sensed. "Dare I ask what little Miss Simcha is? I've never seen an Ace that small and she seems really sweet."
|
|
|
|
Post by Bee on Jul 22, 2010 15:56:56 GMT -5
"Oh, I'd never wear an Ace," Helena said, eyes going a little wide as she remembered Aiolos. He was somewhere between a part of the family and a strange maniac who haunted their apartment and her childhood memories. Either way, she couldn't fathom wearing him or anyone like him as an accessory. It seemed ferociously unwise, though intellectually she knew that if she was wearing something's pelt around her neck, it was probably dead. Probably. Simcha was supposed to be and wasn't, so really, anything was possible...
She took a long drink and considered telling the woman what Simcha was. Then she decided to go ahead and do it. She leaned a little closer to the Esterberry woman and dropped her voice an octave, so anyone who wasn't a professional academic wouldn't get a whiff of something they shouldn't. She probably wouldn't believe her anyway. "She's a rabbit."
|
|
|
|
Post by Kari Muffin on Sept 30, 2010 15:14:03 GMT -5
For once in Petunia's life she was left completely and utterly speechless.
She didn't believe in rabbits and all the other fairy tales. Of course none of them had ever walked up and smacked her in the face to the degree of what was sitting in front of her. There was, in fact, something around the woman's neck. That something was alive, and it wasn't an Ace from what she could tell.
And the wonderful woman was saying that it was a rabbit.
"I..." Petunia started only to find that her words had decided to run away completely. This was probably the first time in history that an Esterberry couldn't speak. She took a long swig of her drink as she tried to formulate the proper response to the facts that were being laid out in front of her.
Might as well say something stupid and get it out of the way.
"I'm sorry, I never thought there would be a day in my life that I could say some of my teachings were wrong. I'm half tempted to get blind drunk in celebration."
|
|
|
|
Post by Bee on Oct 6, 2010 13:51:38 GMT -5
"Getting blind drunk is the solution to about half of life's problems," Helena said philosophically. "Getting laid solves the other half." The response had been automatic repartee; jest aside, she was suddenly, exceedingly pleased that someone appeared to be taking her seriously. That didn't happen to her very often in life.
It almost made her afraid to tell the rest of the story, that Simcha had originally been quite dead, how the little statue Helena had picked up on pure accident had somehow given her little bunny a form, how she had come into a real mind. It stretched the boundaries of credulity. What if the woman decided that a line of logic had been crossed and bailed?
But then again, if you were going to believe one crazy thing in a day, why not believe two? In for a quirk, in for total insanity. And this Esterberry DID seem unusually receptive. "Maybe just a toast," she suggested.
|
|
|
|
Post by Kari Muffin on Oct 8, 2010 20:34:01 GMT -5
Ever since Petunia had to wrestle with a tongue, she was a little more open to things she didn't understand. In a highly magical world, some things couldn't possibly be explained. And if they would they were chalked up to being magical. So a rabbit, as strange as it sounded, was probably possible. And the little creature that was around her neck was obviously not an Ace and could talk. The more she looked at the little creature the more it seemed like a rabbit. Wasn't that how they were described in stories.
The idea of a toast was a nice substitute to getting plastered. Being able to get up and go to work the next morning without a hangover would be a plus. "A toast then," she said lifting up her glass carefully between her paws.
She downed her entire drink in a few gulps. The burning sensation tickled her throat as she waved for a refill.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bee on Nov 7, 2010 11:38:01 GMT -5
Helena looked at the woman speculatively as the both of them tipped back their drinks, contemplating a number of things. The first of course was celebratory sex, an idea which was then largely shelved. The second was that this nice woman was still an Esterberry and as such might have access to some information that Helena herself had not been able to get her hands on, information that could prove very useful in untangling more of Simcha's mysteries. Rabbits were widely and resolutely considered a myth, but there were plenty of books on myth--Helena had read and absorbed several by employing her surprisingly useful Jack ability.
But there was only so much one could read in the capitol, and the books she had been able to procure from the Diamond Court library.
"So," she said, hesitantly and then again confidently: "so! I have a question. Would the libraries of Esterberry be worth investigating for books on Rabbits? Simcha can't...Simmy has some holes in her memories, and maybe...maybe asking the right questions, or giving her the right information, might jog them, you know?"
|
|
