fake!mixed_muses

[04_after]

A young boy of about eight walks into Milliways, carefully carrying a small violin case. He stops, uncertain, black dress shoes squeaking slightly against the floor.

After a moment of glancing around -- almost no one is dressed like him, in black dress pants and a tailed coat, with a dark red waistcoat -- he decides to take the moment to explore. His sisters will be waiting for him, but there's still another 20 minutes before they need to be in place, and they don't even need him until the halfway point. (And even then, he's pretty sure they could do fine without him. No one winces when he plays anymore, but he doesn't consider himself terribly good.)

Everyone here looks interesting, but he's glancing around for someone he could maybe ask where here is. After all, he's pretty sure his house doesn't have a restaurant in it. Especially a restaurant with -- the creatures that are acting as waiters, here (he ignores them, politely).

Comments

[mm_tl]

Quatre almost opens his mouth to protest this, considers it, and then tries again.

"But you can't go away from danger to be safe, right? You'd still have an angry elephant for everyone else."

He fidgets with his sleeve slightly, and bites his lip. "I'm glad it's not angry, though."

[3nanashi]

Trowa nods.

"That's why the best way is to make sure it's happy. If an animal's content with its world, it won't try to step on anyone."

This is the pragmatic truth.

Granted, knowing Quatre is probably affecting Trowa's phrasing here. (But less than you'd think. There are reasons why they get along.)

[mm_tl]

Quatre will keep this in mind if he ever meets any wild animals.

As is, he just nods solemnly, and relaxes.

He glances back around Milliways. "Why did they build this?"

[3nanashi]

Trowa shrugs.

Beats him. He could guess, but it would be pure speculation.

[mm_tl]

"Well -- isn't it a business? There must be some market niche they're fulfilling."

He makes a face and pulls a pocket watch out of his waistcoat, checking the time, before tucking it back in. "I should probably go to my concert," he says, reluctant.

[3nanashi]

"I don't think there's a lot of competition in this sector."

The bar-at-the-end-of-the-universe business seems to be something of a monopoly, so far as Trowa can tell.

(Business terminology is not his strongest point, but hanging out in the Winner household builds one's vocabulary nicely in certain areas.)

He nods, though. "Good luck."

Trowa is not really sorry that eight-year-old Quatre isn't spending a great deal of time in Milliways. It's not that he isn't finding this conversation interesting, but -- well. Milliways has a lot of people, with varied levels of competence and morality.

[mm_tl]

Quatre brightens. "Thank you," he says. "I don't have to do much, but it appreciates me."

He pauses, running that sentence back over in his head. "I appreciate it," he corrects, after a moment.

Quatre picks up his violin case carefully, and tilts his head to Trowa. "Good-bye," he says, brightly, "have a good day." And he leaves.

[3nanashi]

"You too."

Have a nice day, enjoy the concert, don't get shot for another four or five years at least.










Yeah. So. That happened.