[ota] this is just a tribute

[hamelinic]

So apparently there are a zillion things going wrong with the Deck these days. Murders and Challenges and hijinks and all the sort of thing which really, well, if the denizens don't expect it by now, they're just not the best at denizen-ing this particular location of denizenship, are they.

So you know who isn't concerned? This Joker.

And you know who is still riding a high from his weekend get-away with his super-best-friend Johniel? Also this Joker. So you know who is ready to talk your ear off about elephants and dyeing silk and macaroni on a stick? Yes, still Cynric. He is, at least, playing very energetically while he babbles.

Seriously, though. Mac and cheese. On a stick. You know you have hours to listen to him talk about that. Don't be shy.

Comments

psst, borked link

[messire_messer]

Can they at least have a drink while one babbles at the other? Granted, more a coffee-ish drink than a beer-ish drink, but. That comes later.

"I suppose as long as anything's solid you could put it on a stick and eat it. Is that so novel with mac and cheese?"

...copy-paste, how in the hell did you betray me like that. o9 Thank you~

[hamelinic]

Sitting is good. Drinking is fine. Coffee-ish is probably not the best idea, unless Rap's drinking it all by himself and pushing something more like water on the Joker. Someone clearly doesn't need more energy.

"But it's made of bits. Like-- a million little pasta-y bits. Right? And it was just formed into actual proper things, not--like-- strung along on it."

How is this not fascinating, fun friend. How.

[messire_messer]

Unfortunately Rap isn't thinking about the consequences of caffeine, not really. He's just sharing the delights of caramel syrup.

"The cheese helps rather a bit in gluing it together, I expect. Did they sculpt it?" Because what's the fun of sticking food on sticks without a bit of shaping. Rap never did like the plain popsicles.

[hamelinic]

And who can say no to that. Who. Rap can only blame himself if Cynric sits on the end of his bed tonight literally not talking at all.

"Just into little triangles and such. You could have done something far more fascinating with them." Hang on. "You can do, likely."

Where can he get macaroni for free. A lot of it. It is Project Time.

[messire_messer]

If he must have a Joker on the end of his bed tonight, could he maybe get serenaded or lullabied to sleep. Somehow. If Cynric doesn't get distracted with all the bits and bobs in his little flat first.

...or perhaps he won't be sleeping at all. "Are you going to be eating all those? Because I don't sculpt food to be stared at forever."

[hamelinic]

But. But Rap. He thought you knew him.

"...when have I said no to food. When have you known me to say no to food."

These aren't even questions. These are just slightly wounded statements.

[messire_messer]

Now is the time to lean over and jab at Cynric's stomach, surely. Jab and generally poke at.

"So you're telling me that your stomach is effectively bottomless, yes?" Or at least, big enough to hold as many sticks of mac and cheese as can be bought on Rap's meager salary or snatched from the Spade kitchens and cooked in Rap's kitchen. Which could be a lot. Probably.

He'll keep the pepto-bismol on standby.

[heartvestment]

"On a stick?" Edie's eyes are totally wide. "Like, each individual little pasta piece?"

[hamelinic]

"No, ma'am." Which is what you'd think. But. "All-- squish-molded together and made into its own-- thing."

He's good with words for singing. He doesn't need to be good with words here, right?

[heartvestment]

"Was it fried?" She asks. Because the only thing better than things on sticks is fried things on sticks.

[hamelinic]

"Would I be half so adamant about it if it weren't fried, dear?"

No. No, he wouldn't. Edie it was the best thing ever help he can't stop grinning.

[heartvestment]

"That's amazing. And you brought some back for me, of course?" She's definitely teasing.

[hamelinic]

Stricken. He's absolutely stricken that he didn't think to bring her some. Look how sad. Look how devastated by his own thoughtlessness.

"...I'll recreate it. How hard can it be?"

[maidenthespade]

She'll just sprawl here and pretend day has not happened with political posturings and dead Spades and perplexed Diamonds and headaches--all the headaches. That is until he says something confusing to her.

"Macaroni and cheese?"

[hamelinic]

Yes, lovely Spade. Yes so much. Yes, lie here and let him play for you and tell you about the best day ever. You deserve a break. And a serenade. And the happiest Joker beaming at you.

"On a stick. I know, right? It was fabulous, m'lady queen, I swear it."

[maidenthespade]

"American food--noodle, yes? Why would they put it on stick?" Then again, they were Americans. Who knew why they did anything? She has eaten many pasta dishes, many with cheese, but not one he speaks of.

[hamelinic]

"Because why wouldn't you? Why wouldn't you put literally any food you could on a stick?" Katya. Katya, this is ridiculously fabulous. Katya, he has so much joy for this discovery of stick-food. "It works with patychky, aye?"

[maidenthespade]

She is not sold on idea. Clearly Ukrainian food is better. "But that is meat! Like shashlik. You would be needing very tiny stick for noodle. You are maybe pulling my arm?"

[hamelinic]

But Katya. Katya. His fingers fall still on the strings for the moment, reach instead to twine gently with a few strands of her hair.

"I'm pulling neither arm nor leg, my lovely mistress. You'll simply have to come with me next time. I'll show you. It's mind-blowing, I assure you. All manners of shapes of pasta. You'll love it. And you need your day brightened more often than not, I'd wager."

[gotyourheart]

She'd been drawn in by the music. She'd stayed for the discussion about the elephants. And now, somehow, she found herself contemplating macaroni and cheese on a stick. Not the easiest thing to get her head around.

"Wouldn't that be rather difficult to eat? Especially if it's very cheesy?"

[hamelinic]

"Admittedly, it very much was, but more than worth it for the fact you're eating pasta on a stick."

Because be real, Rowan. Everything is better on a stick, yes or very much yes.

"Go on with you. You know you're already plotting to come with us next time we go, dearheart. You can admit it."

[gotyourheart]

She is still a little dubious. Okay-- a lot dubious. But she's had a fair amount of carnival food to consider the concept.

"Suppose I wouldn't mind the trip. If only to try this macaroni on a stick thing."

And also to enjoy the company of a certain fiddler and his friend. Maybe.

[hamelinic]

Who is the best wingman? Cynric. Apparently. Johnny owes him. Possibly can pay him back in macaroni. Or in a bed for the night.

Cynric is the best wingman until the part where he takes over Johnny's place at random.

"You won't regret it. I swear it up and down, my cardiac Queen."

[gotyourheart]

A very good wingman, indeed. Other than that one little bit. But she doesn't know that fact quite yet.

"I'll take you at your world, then, Mister Joker," she says with a smile.

[hamelinic]

Alas, the pet Joker is something a woman simply has to consider when considering Johnny for more than an evening. Because the pet Joker is absolutely not relinquishing the (slightly unusual) friendship for any woman. Or man.

Maybe violin. He might understand if Johnny had to go be with his violin.

"You won't have to. You'll see for yourself. And you'll enjoy yourself to boot." His fingers reach to tug at a loose strand of her hair, overly familiar in the way Jokers are inclined--and typically suffered--to be. "I'm keeping you to it, Lady."