pageofstaves | Ryslig IC Inbox

"Fine, just fine," he laughed, clapping an arm around his friend in return and giving him a couple of solid thumps on his broad, bullish back.

"But I think I'd rather go by something else if I ever try that again. ... Where d'you even come up with that? I've never even been to the colonies."

He leans against his pal so that they can teeter totter their way into Paddy's. BJ steers them toward the bar itself and hops up into a seat.

"It's a contest in the future. All the girls from all the states see who can smile and wave the longest and eventually, one of 'em gets crowned Miss America."

He waves down one of the antlered waitresses and orders a plate of cheese fries and a nice foamy beer for him and one for Childermass as well.

The ale gets a very appreciative grin, and Childermass is reaching for the handle of the glass the moment it's set down. He also winks his thanks at the waitress.

"That's an odd thing to judge a contest on. But then again, Americans..."

He hoisted his glass. "Well, 'ere's to us lookin' good in frocks, friend."

Beetlejuice grinend so hard you'd think it would split his face in two. He raised his glass as well, bumping it messily against Childermass's.

"To a pair a' queens nobody can beat!"

Beetlejuice, you are a runner-up.

He lashed his tail happily when the cheese fries arrived. He plucked one from the plate, admiring how the cheese stretched for a moment, before shoving it into his mouth, fingers and all.

"So tell me, Prof, what have you been up to lately?"

"Izzat ... chips? With cheese on?" There was undisguised delight in his voice as Childermass reached for one eagerly. "Cor, you keep showin' me the best bloody things."

He followed his friend's lead, and made a low sound of appreciation. Not for the first time, he was glad that his changes had not diminished his abillity to eat and digest normal food.

"Gettin' used to bein' dead," he said with a little amused roll of his eyes. "Y'know, it's a curious thing. I can still eat - obviously. Still do all manner of things. But I 'ave to make sure I drink. Most things, before, but fer food, it can be not long after, too. Like keepin' oil in a lamp... if I don't 'ave enough in my body, nothin' works."

Beetlejuice shoved the plate toward his friend to share.

"I've got plenty of experience being dead, but zero being a vampire. They kinda aren't a thing where I'm from--just something humans made up when they didn't have enough to be afraid of."

He shoved a few more fries in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "So no pulse, huh?"

Beetlejuice lowered his eyes to Childermass's chest as though he could see through him and look at his heart. He loved having a pulse. There was nothing like it! To think his newest bestie couldn't feel that any more. Well, it was a bummer.

Ah, sympathy. Another one of those human emotions. Yuck.

"I was never certain if they were real or not in England," Childermass confessed. "Could be possible, could've just been fairies mucking about. But no, no pulse unless I've just drunk, and only then fer an hour or so."

He helped himself to a few more of the fries, then reached for the catch-up bottle on the table. "You ever 'ave these with any've the other condiminnies?"

Listen, Bert was the one who introduced him to condiments. It wasn't his fault he was using the wrong terminology.

"Look out, Bavan, he's moving on to condiments!" Beetlejuice laughed. "I've tried 'em all! OH, boy, wait'll you get a load of ranch dressing. Now that's good on fries!"

He looked around to see if there was a bottle within sight. There wasn't. Not to be deterred, he starts flagging down a waitress for some. It's bar food. She doesn't think it an odd request. The waitress tells him to wait for a moment and she hurries off in search.

"Just you wait. You can even dunk these in milkshakes. You had a milkshake yet?"

"I've not," Childermass confessed, though he was certainly interested. "Perhaps we should make a game of it - each time we meet, we can go someplace and you can show me a new thing. I'll make sure to 'ave a drink aforehand, even."

He paused, trying to decide how to make this an even exchange, then lit on it. "I'll even cover the tabs."

Beetlejuice put a hand to his own forehead to feign a faint. "No milkshakes! Your timezone was not kind to you. Okay. Okay, that sounds like a plan. Let's do it!"

He extended a fist for a fist bump.

"Kind as I knew it could be," he shrugged, then cocked his head at the outstretched fist, unsure what to do about it.

...Ah. No matter! BJ is a teacher if he is anything.

"It's a thing best bros do. Like this--"

He illustrates by taking his other hand and fist-bumping himself. Then he holds a fist out for Childermass again.

"Give it a try!"

Thankfully he's familiar with "best bros" by now, and he smiles at that: not for the first time, Childermass considers how many friends he has in Bavan compared to the few close working friends in Mr. Norrell's household. To have one of them consider him among their best, to boot, is just one more reason that the horrors of the peninsula are still bearable. For now.

He raises his fist and enthusiastically gives Beetlejuice the coveted bump. "Bit like a secret greeting," he said, pleased, before taking another drink.

"... I'm glad I know you won't judge me ill fer likin' life 'ere on the whole."

"Of course not! This place is a blast--if you ignore the occasional dimensional warp or disgusting growth. And war. I think I blew up once. Anyway!"

He waves a hand to shoo away the downsides of life here in Ryslig. Beetlejuice flashes Childermass a grin, cozy in his company. He shoves cheese fries into his mouth and hums to himself.

"You got any of those coins that show up under your pillow?"

The mention of war doesn't unsettle him: they'd just scarcely got clear of Napoleon, after all, and Strange had fought at Wellington's side. The changes, too, he's finding his feet with.

"Oh yeh. Gettin' to be a sizeable little pile. I think I may try to buy some of Mr. Norrell's books from 'is library. Even if it's a different sort of magic, some of the principles are the same, and they could be handy to anyone else trying to make sense of the powers here. ... I know it's not your cuppa, but ... well." He smirked. "It is my coin I'm spendin'."

"What'dya mean it's not my cuppa?" Beetlejuice sat up straight and pretended to be offended. He splayed his fingers against his tie. "Just because I watch trash television and eat out of the garbage doesn't mean I'm not also a voracious reader!"

"Oh, so you an' Dee are cut from closer cloth than I thought," Childermass said with a laugh. "Arright, arright, then. What sort of books d'yeh prefer? If I ever come across any I'll send 'em yer way."

"Oh, I love a good romance." Beetlejuice leans forward with his hands on his knees. "Where I'm from, you can get one for like three bucks and it'll have the most desperately written porn you've ever seen. The covers always have somebody on a horse or a shirtless man or sometimes both."

Childermass has seen an entire shelf of those at Dee's, he's pretty certain. At least he knows what to look for. Reading is reading, after all, and he's not about to shame anyone for their tastes. The comment about the covers makes him laugh.

"Or a shirtless kelpie, and then you've got both, yeah?"

Beetlejuice is still for a moment. He's computing. One of his ears flicks as a bit of cheese drips off his beard. Then it clicks and his whole face lights up like Christmas.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! AHHAHAHA! WILL YA LISTEN TO THIS GUY! FUCKIN' GENUS! I love it!"

Childermass waited patiently through the resulting silence, helping himself to a bit more pub food. Once Beetlejuice finally got the joke, he grinned, then wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Eh, I do try."

Beetlejuice has a good heehaw laugh over that. He slaps his knees and pounds a fist on the bar top so hard their drinks jump. Soon, he's panting and wiping a tear away.

"Ah, Professor, what would I have done if you hadn't answered my sketchy offer for a dumpster bang and pizza?"

"Eaten it and diddled the evenin' away with someone else, I imagine," Childermass said with his usual dry humor. "You never did tell me if anythin' else came o'that after I left."

"Oh YEAH! Oh, Prof, get this. This super hottie of a vampire came by and we totally did it! She was amazing! Cute as hell! She like, gets it!"

He flutters his lashes and rests his chin on a fist.

"I wonder where she is now..."

Edited 2023-08-29 00:48 (UTC)

Childermass chuckled for a moment, and then he realized he'd only ever met three other vampires, only one of them a woman.

"Wait ... did she 'ave a head of great big dark curls? Hips like a barrel of ale and just as inebriating?"

"Yeah! Yeah yeah! That's her!" Beetlejuice gestures enthusiastically. "You know her?"

"In more than one sense," Childermass says, laughing. "She's the one who talked me into the show, matter of fact. But we've spent our fair share of time together."

He gives his friend a crooked, fangy grin. "Shared dinner once or twice. Gave a bit of new meanin' to playing with one's food."

"You think you can hook us up again?" He makes another excited hand-flappy gesture and wiggles in his seat. "I haven't seen her around, but boy am I ready and willing for a round two! I know a killer place to find some cake!"

"Happy to oblige," Childermass agrees. He hasn't actually been asked out on a date by Bert yet - give it a couple of weeks - but he's already thinking a bit more of the other dark-haired vampire in his life, the one whose family served King Arthur himself and who had shared corn dogs and roller coasters with him over talk of how odd it was to live in a place where it was perfectly fine to look at another man in public the same way one could at a woman.

"I have a feeling you two could keep each other busy fer quite some time."

Ryslig IC Inbox

ilysm omg

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, JOHN CHILDERMASS. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 181.225.14.0 * TheRavensMan has joined 181.225.14.0. <TheRavensMan>** This is the network mail of John Childermass. I am currently following a nocturnal schedule, but will respond to you in as timely a fashion as I can.