[milliways: kidplot]

[hate_gettin_older]

What the hell is this place?

Edgar's only sure of three things: (1) it isn't the Tail, therefore (2) he's not supposed to be here, and (3) he's going to be in the worst kind of trouble if a guard sees him. Or anyone who'll call a guard.

The thing is, he's not sure how this could be the Front either. But he's not sure how it could be anyplace else.

For the moment, he's got to try and get out of sight. Maybe under one of those tables.

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar chokes, and just barely keeps himself from spewing out a mouthful of whatever-this-is. The near miss horrifies him a little, and for a moment he just concentrates on chewing and swallowing. It would be the worst kind of waste to lose any of this.

It's a coincidence, he tells himself firmly as he finishes chewing. That's all.

(Curtis -- his Curtis -- isn't going to know where he is. He'll be worried, maybe even scared. He'll be angry.)

"'M Edgar," he mumbles, not looking up.

[2goodarms]

Curtis tilts his head, frowning even harder.

"What's wrong?" he asks, smaller than he means.

What'd he say to make Edgar almost spit out his food?

[hate_gettin_older]

He's got a ready-made excuse, but ... how to word it?

"There's, uh --" One foot jitters up and down with nervous energy as he gropes for unfamiliar vocabulary. "Something stings. In the food? Sharp, like."

[2goodarms]

"Oh." Still uncertain, but rapidly regaining his footing. "'S probably the mustard. Or onions."

Curtis hesitates.

"You want me to get you another one? I can get it without the onions and stuff. And I've got candy up -- " He untucks himself and stretches up, face disappearing above the table. Two seconds later he's back with the bowl in both hands. "Here."

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar swallows the last beautifully greasy fragment of food as the Front kid reappears, and eyes the bowl of brightly colored objects with some curiosity. "What is it?"

[2goodarms]

"Dunno. Lots of stuff." He pushes it closer. "Go ahead and look."

[hate_gettin_older]

He reaches in and picks up an object at random: it's a bright round thing that at first he thinks must be a marble, red and white swirled together, wrapped in a twist of crackly clear plastic. It's too flat to be a marble, though, there's no way this would roll on anything.

Faintly dubious, he tries unwrapping the plastic.

[2goodarms]

Curtis fidgets, watching Edgar unwrap the peppermint.

"I like the Snickers ones," he offers. "If you wanna try that next."

[hate_gettin_older]

So they're food of some kind, he gathers. Okay, well ...

He sniffs the red-and-white circle; it smells enticing but strange. Cautiously, he tries to take a nibble off the edge, and frowns when his teeth don't make a dent in its hard surface.

[2goodarms]

"Oh, um..."

Edgar doesn't know the difference between hard candy and regular candy. (Has he even had candy before?) Curtis wants to draw himself back against one of the table legs again, make himself small, like he could hide from the big sense of wrongness pressing down on him.

"You don't bite those ones. You suck on 'em. It'll melt."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Oh."

Gingerly he puts the thing into his mouth, and his eyes go wide in shock at the sudden flood of sharp sweetness.

[2goodarms]

He doesn't know what to make of Edgar's expression, but all at once, the whole thing's too much to bear.

Abruptly, "I'm gonna get another burger, I'll be right back," and he squirms out from under the table, running as fast as he can for the bar.

[hate_gettin_older]

Just as well; it's going to take Edgar another moment to get his breath back. He sucks on the candy hungrily, and it feels like energy is pouring into him with each swallow. Christ, it's so sweet, sweeter than the raisins he remembers from Thanksgiving a few years ago.

And there's a whole bowl of these things.

For a moment he seriously considers grabbing the bowl and running for it, and the main thing that stops him is that he doesn't know where he'd be running to.



He does reach out and snag four or five more to stuff into a pocket before the Front kid comes back. They'll never be missed.

[2goodarms]

Curtis isn't paying too much attention to anything besides getting away from Edgar and getting to the bar. There's a lot of kids around, but they're all pretty easy to dodge; there's enough space between the tables that he's not gonna trip over anything.

Except then somebody steps into his path.

He's got a split-second to register a couple things -- it's a girl in some kind of white dress, she's got long hair, there's gold bracelets on the upper half of her arms -- before Curtis collides with her at top speed.

"Oof!"

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah was staring at the Window and completely not paying attention to the fact that she was in the middle of the traffic pattern. Which is why, when the boy plows into her, she spins around with a look of consternation and concern.

"Hey! Ouch." Okay, that sounded awful. "Are you okay?" Better.

Young Jeddaks in training should have better manners, Magda Rin would tell her.

[2goodarms]

Lucky for Curtis, he didn't ricochet off the girl so hard that he ended up on the floor. He rubs at his shoulder, scowling. Because it's totally her fault she got in his way. Or something.

"'M fine." A beat. "...You okay too?"

(Because Curtis does know you're supposed to apologize if you accidentally hit somebody.)

[dejah_thoris]

"Yes, I am." She's made of sterner stuff than that, so she can't help but sound a little indignant. Try again, Dejah. She finds a smile.

"I apologize. I didn't see you coming." Subtext: You should make your presence known next time. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

[2goodarms]

Curtis can feel himself going red. He drops his gaze to his shoes.

(It's not because her smile's kinda pretty. Definitely not. He's just embarrassed he ran into her!)

"Just gonna get food," he says, and manages not to make it too much of a mumble. "A burger and stuff."

[dejah_thoris]

Something tickles a memory at the back of her mind. He's not from Barsoom. He's Jasoomian. Of course. They blush a lot.

She bites her lip. "What's a burger?"

[2goodarms]

......

Oh, no, not another one.

She looks way too pretty to be homeless, too. Maybe she's from another country? She doesn't sound American. Yeah, they must not have burgers wherever she's from. Okay.

Resolve thus strengthened, Curtis points toward the bar and says, "C'mon, I'll show you."

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah's eyebrows rise. "All right."

She must follow him now. Her curiosity is piqued!

[2goodarms]

Still a little red around the ears, Curtis trots the rest of the way to the bar. It's high enough that he has to swing himself onto the lowest rung of a nearby stool, perching there with both hands planted on the bar.

"Hi," he declares, very studiously looking only at the bartop and not at the girl. "It's me again. Can I get another burger?"

Pop.

And lo, a burger did appear.

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah stands on her tip toes, just enough to peer over the edge. Her dark brown eyes go wide with wonder as it appears.

"That smells delicious. May I have one?"

[2goodarms]

Bar happily obliges with another pop!

"They're really good," Curtis agrees. "Better than McDonalds."

...Look, this is high praise coming from a kid whose parents don't let him eat junk food too often.

And then, in a burst of nervous energy (and still not quite looking at Dejah), "Wannacomebacktomytablewithme?"

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah blinks. That was an awfully fast question.

"Um. Yes, please?"

She gathers her burger and the strange but wonderful smelling little sticks that come with it. Another thought pops into her mind. He doesn't know who she is! HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO SHE IS!

"Which way is your table?"