ic contact;

[originallutece]

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[uncertainrelation]

I'm only saying I'm quite convinced the man secretly loathed me.

[Hmmm.]

...And possibly hoping black humor will prove as effective a medication as the bourbon.

[originallutece]

Pick something else to joke about.

[Though she's apparently not so angry that she's ready to pull away. Rosalind shoves the bottle towards him, her eyes narrowed.]

[uncertainrelation]

Which Dewitt was it that fell off of Columbia? I lost track.

[Which is probably as good an excuse as any to hit the bourbon again, all things considered.]

...No, I oughtn't joke about that, either. Hm. Well...d'you know young Mr. Strider wants a pony?

[originallutece]

[Frankly, Rosalind is quite a bit more inclined to joke about Dewitt falling off Columbia (numbers 76 and 77, for the record), but she'll switch topics.]

. . . truly? Are you certain he wasn't being sarcastic?

[uncertainrelation]

I suppose he might've been, but that wasn't the impression I took away. He was strongly opposed to puppies but quite in favor of ponies.

[Important data to be added to his file, naturally.]

Shame, really. Ponies are far harder to come by, I would think, than a puppy.

[originallutece]

Both are hard to come by around here. I had to--

[The alcohol is just starting to hit. Rosalind rubs her face, feeling the flush there, and squints up at him.]

If I tell you something, you can't laugh.

[uncertainrelation]

I would never laugh at you.

[He pronounces, very seriously and solemnly.]

...I may laugh somewhat near you. But certainly not at you.

[originallutece]

I'm going to be quite upset if you laugh.

[Which means he's probably going to, which means this preventative attempt is ultimately useless. But still, Rosalind tries.]

I'm certainly not going to let you have any more bourbon.

[uncertainrelation]

Should I feel the urge, I shall stifle it by kissing you soundly instead, and smother it.

[A cunning plan!]

[originallutece]

. . . all right.

[He's not going to kiss her well if he's laughing, but whatever, that's good enough reason for her tipsy mind.]

They've no horses around here, as I said. My dressmaker, Miss Everett and I, we had to go on a, a mission of sorts. That's how I got all our science equipment: I went on this mission and got all of it as a reward. But where we had to go was forty miles away, we couldn't possibly walk, and then Miss Everett suggested--

[S Q U I N T S]

They have these . . . large birds. That one might ride. Rather like an ostrich.

[She's not going to use the word chicken.]

. . . that's the only sort of animal around here, is the point of the story. The bizarre and the supernatural. Nothing ordinary.

[uncertainrelation]

I heard about that! I think I did. Someone mentioned it, something about a mirror? I heard tell of a great deal of traveling for the sake of a broken mirror, I think.

[...Wait for it.]

You mean to say the two of you rode a pair of giant birds forty miles into the wilderness?

[...Wait for it.]

...Was it all it was quacked up to be?

[FUCKING DAMMIT, ROBERT]

1/?

[originallutece]

[originallutece]

[originallutece]

[originallutece]

done!

[originallutece]

[Why does she love this man?]

No more bourbon for you.

[So says Rosalind, queen of alcohol, as she sits up and holds the bottle out of his reach. She might even begin drinking it, just to ensure her commands are enforced.]

[uncertainrelation]

I do say, Rosie, your expression just performed a five-act play in as many seconds.

[Are we seriously playing keep-away with a bottle of alcohol right now. Are we that much of children.

...Evidently so, because he's reaching for it.]

It's not as though it was the bourbon talking, you know!

[originallutece]

I'm not blaming the alcohol, I'm blaming you! And this is your proper comeuppance--

[He's got longer arms, this isn't going to last long-- but still Rosalind leans forward, arm outstretched, intent on keeping this going as long as she can.]

[uncertainrelation]

Come here, I feel a laugh coming on and I'm obliged to kiss you because of it. Come, now.

[And perhaps while she is distracted with the kissing he can make a snatch for the bourbon. A cunning plan, indeed!]

[originallutece]

No.

[She scoots, now, drawing entirely out of his arms and retreating to the other end of the couch. And again, she takes another defiant swig, putting her up at least three to one by now.]

You're never going to learn if you simply get immediate positive reinforcement.

[uncertainrelation]

Technically I would learn very quickly if I were to simply get immediate positive reinforcement, but it wouldn't be the behavior you're hoping for.

[What's this? He's being deprived of her completely? Oh, well, that's intolerable. Forget the bourbon completely, he now has a much more pressing priority to address and it is catching hold of her and dragging her back into his arms.]

[originallutece]

[It would be a lie to say she hadn't been wanting precisely this. Rosalind grins as she slumps back against him, perfectly pleased at the way his arms are wrapped around her hips.]

Menace. What if I didn't want to be caught by you?

[She says, and half turns, squirming to fit better against him.]

[uncertainrelation]

Impossible. Constants and variables. And that —

[Good, good, let's just settle her in comfortably, which comes with the added bonus side effect of putting the bourbon within snatching distance, when he decides to snatch for it in a minute or two.]

...is a constant.

[originallutece]

[Rude. But not entirely unexpected, and so Rosalind allows it. It means she's left with both hands free, anyway, which is a boon when she's pressed in close like this.]

It isn't the only constant around here.

[Hm hm hm. She stretches out her legs, settling more firmly against him, and adds:]

Hurry up. You're lagging behind at least two more drinks.

[uncertainrelation]

Yes, and whose doing is that? Snatching it away and refusing to share...

[Two more drinks right on the heels of each other is probably a highly inadvisable thing to do, and yet he's conveniently not feeling bad about young Mr. Strider anymore, and that's as good a reason as any to carry on with the inadvisable, if it's having such favorable outcomes in return.]

Now, getting back to this business of the chickens...