Technically inside the bar. Despite appearances. Hush.

[river_meimei]

Simon's upset.

River -- if she is -- isn't in the same way. It's hard to tell.

What she is is sitting on the floor near the fireplace, between couch and end table. She has a gold bracelet, spangled with bells, lying on the table in front of her. Every so often she touches it, and a soft lilting melody chimes out.

Comments

[river_meimei]

"It's a biological imperative."

[mitt-mittson.livejournal.com]

"I don't know what a bilogical peartive is," he tells her, stopping in his building.

[river_meimei]

"Lots."

There's a pause, while River bends over to rest her cheek against the floor and examine her two-block tower that way.

"Means it's a guarantee," she adds, without lifting her head.

[mitt-mittson.livejournal.com]

"Like something won't break when y'buy it?"

He's tilting his head to keep at least in the same direction she is.

[river_meimei]

"Increased reliability."

[mitt-mittson.livejournal.com]

"Okay," he agrees, amiably.

He doesn't understand, but it seems a useful tactic.

[river_meimei]

"Yes," River agrees, satisfied, and pushes herself abruptly upright to reach for another block.