::Open RP - Grand Opening of The Little Green Apple Shisha Cafe!!!::

[lady-thujone.livejournal.com]

All over the school, posters have been appearing. Like this one-











But finally, it was opening night. Bottles of hard-to-find BPAL, assorted smokeables, exotic liqueurs and fine chocolate... oh, all the addictive sumptuous delights one might crave!




And she herself took the stage first, to break in the karaoke machine.

"Because everything sounds better in French, darlings...."


Fairport Convention, "Si Tu Dois Partir" (lyrics)

Comments

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan smothered a smile--trust Grandfather to seize upon that above all else. "Nothing in particular. I just wondered what would happen if you hit back; whatever I had gotten into had some extremely...odd...effects on my judgment. I think..." she trailed off, trying to remember, "...I think I even said something close to that, while attacking the tree. Something about the fact that I've always liked to hit things, even since childhood. And a lot of other things I probably shouldn't have, though fortunately nothing utterly damning."

"Oh! Um." She glanced at the menu--while she certainly didn't want to try absinthe again, there were many other things to sample. "In the spirit of the occasion, I think I'll take tea, chocolate, and...mushrooms?" It was an odd thing to offer, at least by itself--she didn't know of anyone who ate mushrooms as anything other than a condiment. "Ah well, might as well try them."

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

I DON'T RECALL YOU BEING A PARTICULARLY VIOLENT CHILD, Death mused curiously, leaning forward to rest his chin atop his bridged, bony hands. ALTHOUGH, OF COURSE, CIRCUMSTANCES WHEN YOU WERE OLDER... Well, as Susan grew up, it had sometimes become necessary for her to, say, hit things with a poker.

He smiled a bit at her, or at least appeared to. WELL, YOU DID ENJOY YOUR XYLOPHONE RATHER A LOT. And by 'xylophone,' he meant 'his ribs.'

Death peered down at the menu, equally curious about the dish in question. AH... THE SAME, I SUPPOSE. Why on earth would one put mushrooms on a largely dessert-based menu? He hadn't the foggiest.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"You didn't me at school," Susan muttered, shaking her head. She'd been the bane of many a shin in Sport. "And then there were all the bogeymen, working for the Gaiters--" leaving aside the one human bogeyman, thank you very much "--and a few of the nastier patrons of Biers. Never a tree, though, up until now."

She laughed. "Not everyone has a grandfather who can double as a musical instrument," she said. "In fact, I'm not sure anyone else did." Despite the, ah, unorthodox practice, she'd inherited Death's inability to play an instrument, and unlike her grandfather she didn't have the patience to keep trying. "I don't know. The poker...at least smacking things with it is good exercise." And extremely good anger-management, even if going after the Whomping Willow had been taking things a bit far.

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

THEY DO SAY, I BELIEVE, THAT THERE IS A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING, ALTHOUGH I MUST SAY I NEVER UNDERSTOOD THE EXPRESSION MYSELF. He waved a hand. ALBERT TRIED TO EXPLAIN IT TO ME ONCE. It hadn't really ended well.

He chuckled, which sounded fairly horrible. A VALID POINT, he acknowledged. PLUS, IT WAS VERY GOOD AT KEEPING THOSE BOGEYMEN IN LINE. HOW DID IT WORK AGAINST THE TREE?

The House Elf returned with their things. Death accepted his teacup and took a tentative sip, then sampled a mushroom. HMM.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan smothered both a snort and a smile--she had a feeling the explanation hadn't worked. Granddad tried, but there was only so much you could understand about humanity without actually being human.

"It worked on the bogeymen, but not so well on the tree," she admitted. "It definitely doesn't like being hit back, and as it has more branches than I had pokers, it...well, there was a reason we wound up so concussed. I almost threw up on Stephen," she added, wincing. "I don't think I'll be trying that again, any time soon."

Susan took her tea and plate, eying the mushrooms a moment before eating one. "...Not bad, though I don't know why they'd put them with chocolate," she said.

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

In particular, idioms -- he tended to just not get them. Metaphors, those were tricky, too. I SEE. BUT YOU'RE ALL RIGHT NOW? He leaned forward a bit, star-blue eyes narrowing with concern.

Shrugging, he sampled another mushroom. IT'S BEYOND ME. BUT MAYBE I CAN CONVINCE THEM TO INTRODUCE CURRY TO THE MENU, IF THEY'RE TRYING TO EXPAND.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I'm fine now," she said, sipping tea and trying a spotted shroom. "I've got a hard head. I'll just have to find something a bit less violent to thwack, next time I feel the need."

Ooo, that one was good...and the tea, while like no tea she'd had before, was nice, too. "Curry with mushrooms, maybe? I can't see curry and chocolate going together very well."

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

Death nodded, once again appearing to smile. YES. OUR FAMILY TENDS TO BE... HARD TO GET THE BETTER OF, I FIND.

He sipped his own tea, fingering a mushroom thoughtfully before eating it, and then another. THESE ARE VERY GOOD, ACTUALLY, AREN'T THEY? He had been ambivalent at first, but he was starting to develop a taste for them... I NEVER HAD MUSHROOM CURRY BEFORE. BUT WHY NOT?

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"We're like weeds, I think. Impossible to eradicate."

She had to agree with him about the mushrooms--you couldn't stop at just one. "They really are...I don't know how a spotted fungus could be so addictive." As an experiment, she dunked one in the tea, munching at it. "Not bad together, either."

Susan was starting to feel quite pleasant--a little fuzzy around the edges, but almost unaccountably content. This really was a nice cafe....

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

OH, YES. Death nodded. I REMEMBER, ONCE, YOUR FATHER... He felt something... shift, oddly, and blinked. ...I'M SORRY. WHAT DID I JUST SAY?

Death typically felt neither heat nor cold; neither energized nor tired; but he was feeling oddly cool, now, and... He yawned, his jaw literally making a cracking noise as it clacked back together. THAT'S ODD, he commented in an odd tone of voice, not feeling all too bothered. Huh. He took another mushroom.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"I--" Susan broke off. Not only could she not remember what he'd just said, she couldn't remember what she was about to say. She grinned, a wholly happy Cheshire-cat grin. "I don't know," she said. "Wait, Granddad, did you just...uh...yawn?" Last she checked, Grandda didn't get sleepy. Because, you know, he didn't sleep. No sleep for Granddad.

For some reason, this struck her as immensely funny, and she went off into a fit of most un-Susan-like giggling--at least, until the teapot began to stretch and melt, at which point she choked. "...I don't think it's supposed to do that," she said, eying it suspiciously.

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

NO. Had he? He didn't think he had. DON'T CALL ME GRANDDAD, he added distantly. TOO MUCH LIKE... She started giggling at that point, and he broke off, puzzled. WHAT? WHO'S DOING WHAT? TO WHOM?

The walls were bending oddly. It reminded him a bit of his own house, except that his house made perfect sense to him. THAT'S ODD, he said again.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"Whaddo I call you, then?" Susan asked, somehow managing a coherent sentence. It wasn't that she didn't know what was going on around her--she did, but reality was overlain by a shiny, glassy, pretty sheen that made everything glitter and stretch like taffy.

And she was happy. Not just peaceful or content, but happy in a way she probably shouldn't be able to feel.

"What's odd?" she asked, watching as the sugar tongs shifted colors and melted.

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

GRANDDAD SOUNDS LIKE GRAMPS. WHICH SOUNDS VERY UNPLEASANT. LIKE CRAMPS. OR RAMPS. ALTHOUGH I SUPPOSE THERE'S.... THERE'S NOTHING UNPLEASANT ABOUT... He yawned again, enormously, and leaned forward on his elbows, sprawling half over the table, his head in his hands.

RATS? The word came out, apropos of nothing. Then, he realized she'd asked him a question. AH. EVERYTHING SEEMS TO BE... SHIFTING. VERY STRANGE. IS THE TEAPOT SINGING, OR IS THAT JUST ME?

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan had to agree about the cramps, from personal experience. "I don't know, I suppose...hey, oooh, that lamp is moving." Her words faltered as she stared, wide-eyed, leaning back in her chair like a boneless jellyfish (as opposed to, you know, the bony kind).

"Yeah, it's...melting, kind of, isn't it?" That, and the table was glowing, surrounded by tracers that swirled in all the colors of the rainbow. "And I think...what was I saying? Oh, I think it is. Very prettily. It should be in the opera."

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

I DON'T THINK THINGS USUALLY MELT... DO THEY? He paused, pondered this. HAVE WE SUDDENLY BEEN TRANSPORTED TO THE INSIDE OF A VOLCANO? OR INTO THE SUN?

Really, he had no idea how things had gotten so... wobbly. One minute, they'd been sitting, eating the... OOOOH. He let out a long, funereal groan. INTERESTING.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

That made Susan giggle. Not just laugh, but giggle. "I don't think so, either," she said dreamily. "I...hey, pretty...I hope we're not in a volcano, or I'll burn up. Like bacon."

Okay, now the chair was rocking back and forth--was she on a boat? How did she get on a boat?

"Grand--uh, Not-Granddad, are you all right?" The teapot had switched from opera to music-hall tunes, she noticed vaguely.

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

I BELIEVE WE HAVE BEEN POISONED, he said in an odd, dreamy tone. NOT FATALLY. WELL, CERTAINLY NOT FOR ME, BUT... He lay his head down on his arms, closing his eyes. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, SUSAN... YOU'RE A SMART--yawn--GIRL...

Goodness, he felt so sleepy. That was very odd, considering that he'd only slept the once, and that had been when he was sort of human (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reaper_Man). THE MUSHROOMS, he rumbled. PSYCHO...WHATEVER IT IS. ES. THEY USED TO TAKE THEM IN THE DESERT TO SEE THE GODS.

He cracked an eye open, looked up, and waved at something unseen. HELLO.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"I...we can't be fatally anything'd here," Susan said, leaning forward to stare at the teapot and winding up with her chin on the table. "Oh, look, pretty lights...."

"T' see the gods?" she asked, blinking at the teapot. "Damn odd god, then...who 're you talking to?"

"Probably me," the teapot answered, in what Susan would have identified as a Cockney accent, had she known such a thing existed.

"...Oh. Wow. Wow."

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

I THOUGHT I SAW OM. IT WASN'T HIM. IT WASN'T THE TEAPOT, EITHER. Death closed his eyes again, settling down in his seat. Ahhhh... comfortable. He would have to compliment Crowley and Eris and the fairy on this later; their seats were very comfortable, even to his rickety old bones.

I THINK, FOR THE MOMENT, WE CAN... ENJOY THE RIDE, SO TO SPEAK, he sighed. THERE SEEMS LITTLE ELSE TO DO. HOW ARE YOU FEELING, GRANDDAUGHTER?

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"If it wasn't Om, who was it?" Susan asked, almost faceplanted on the table by this point. Even the tablecloth smelled nice--like incense, and peppermints, and strawberry wine....

"Damn right it does," the teapot agreed.

"I feel...wonderful," she said dreamily. "Like...like a fuzzy, sleepy, infra-black wonderful thing. Isn't it nice in here?" She'd have to agree with her grandfather about the chairs--they were almost unbelievably comfortable, as was even the table.

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

I THINK IT WAS THE WALL, he said, in a voice so surprisingly soft it was almost beyond hearing. OM ISN'T AROUND MUCH THESE DAYS.

He didn't want to sleep. He hadn't really liked sleep much. But he was so tired... and it felt good, this time. IT'S VERY NICE, he agreed. Maybe he wouldn't sleep. Just... what did they call it? Doze. I WOULD SAY CLOSER TO OCTARINE, PERHAPS. OR... INFINITY. WHICH IS A VERY NICE SHADE OF BLUE.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"Who knows?" Susan said, knowing dimly she ought to sit up, but feeling quite content to rest on the table. "Maybe he'll show up one day." Maybe Albert would show up one day--gods, there was a scary thought. Him, or the Death of Rats.

"Wha' kind of blue?" she managed, opening one eye and regarding her grandfather. "I'd think infity would be like...melty and multi-colored. Kind've like the teapot." She reached out and poked the teapot, which seemed to ooze around her finger.

[friendofkittens.livejournal.com]

OM? Death didn't seem to feel the need, himself, to sit up to talk to her any longer. He was taking up more than his fair half of the table at this point, with his long, bony arms, but he was just so... so very comfortable. IT SEEMS UNLIKELY, BUT PERHAPS. HE HAS FEW WORSHIPPERS HERE THAT I'M AWARE OF.

INFINITY, he added airily, IS BLUE. A VERY INTERESTING SHADE OF BLUE. INFRA-BLUE, IF YOU WILL. He picked up the teapot and tried to pour himself a cup. Somewhere along the line, that failed.