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capeandcowllogs2009-02-17 01:23 pm
brokenrhymes.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2009-02-17 01:23 pm
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WHO: Teddy and Eric
WHERE: The 24 Hour Diner Teddy works at
WHEN: The middle of the night.
WARNINGS: None? CRAZY SEX. ON THE DINER COUNTER.
SUMMARY: Eric decides on a whim to try coffee again--Teddy is working. Lulz ensues?
FORMAT: Para?
It had been--what, almost a year and a half?--since Eric had been a living man and eaten regularly. He didn't really have to anymore, and since he was no longer obligated he rarely did. Seemed like a bit of a waste. He had a bit of money, though, whatever the people he saved threw at him in a desperate attempt to save themselves from the violence they'd seen him dole out to the people who had been attacking them. Slightly depressing, but enough, at least, to afford small things. Mostly these ersatz donations went to food for the stray cat he'd taken in, but he was in a particularly experimental mood.
He struck out across the city, busily dispatching what little trouble there was, and eventually came to roost on the roof of an all-night diner. He remembered earlier thoughts about what coffee tasted like--if it was the same as he remembered, if it was better, worse, or tasted like nothing at all. So he dropped off the roof, landing in a pool of shadow, and wandered into the mostly empty diner.
There was almost no one here in these very early hours of the morning. He assumed there was service somewhere, but if they were here they were in the back somewhere. He slid into a booth, running his hands over the scarred formica, vaguely fascinated. Some things really didn't variate, even over time and space and even the span of universes. Something old in something new.
WHERE: The 24 Hour Diner Teddy works at
WHEN: The middle of the night.
WARNINGS: None? CRAZY SEX. ON THE DINER COUNTER.
SUMMARY: Eric decides on a whim to try coffee again--Teddy is working. Lulz ensues?
FORMAT: Para?
It had been--what, almost a year and a half?--since Eric had been a living man and eaten regularly. He didn't really have to anymore, and since he was no longer obligated he rarely did. Seemed like a bit of a waste. He had a bit of money, though, whatever the people he saved threw at him in a desperate attempt to save themselves from the violence they'd seen him dole out to the people who had been attacking them. Slightly depressing, but enough, at least, to afford small things. Mostly these ersatz donations went to food for the stray cat he'd taken in, but he was in a particularly experimental mood.
He struck out across the city, busily dispatching what little trouble there was, and eventually came to roost on the roof of an all-night diner. He remembered earlier thoughts about what coffee tasted like--if it was the same as he remembered, if it was better, worse, or tasted like nothing at all. So he dropped off the roof, landing in a pool of shadow, and wandered into the mostly empty diner.
There was almost no one here in these very early hours of the morning. He assumed there was service somewhere, but if they were here they were in the back somewhere. He slid into a booth, running his hands over the scarred formica, vaguely fascinated. Some things really didn't variate, even over time and space and even the span of universes. Something old in something new.