The Tortoise, early evening, one very ordinary day in March.

[becareful_boyo]

Abigail is in the midst of a spat with Thomas. Just a spat, no matter what their customers say; the ones who stuck around once dishes started flying, that is, and didn't flee like incontinent cowards. A spat brought on by increasing temperatures inside the tavern and stubbornly cold ones outside, that last brush with winter after many months of feeling as though one might lose ones toes to snow and ice.

They are both feeling a bit cramped. It's no surprise that tempers flared, really. It was nothing to concern anyone, truth be told, and they had exchanged fond smiles at the end, when Thomas had jabbed his hat on his head and took himself elsewhere.

Just a spat, as previously mentioned, but Abigail isn't about to tell her customers that. No, not when they are being so quiet, so well-mannered, so agreeable.

She hums quietly to herself, smiling with a glint in her eye, as she tries to whack a dent out of an old tankard.

Comments

[mnt_mike]

Meanwhile, out in the barn...

A pinprick of blue light appears on the wall of an empty stall. Slowly the light expands to a line, which then traces the outline of a door. On silent hinges that didn't exist a moment ago, the door swings open and a shape hobbles through, leaning heavily on a walking stick.

"...smells like home, funny enough," says Mike as he makes his way into the barn proper. His usual cargo shorts and Hawaiian shirt are replaced by Olau appropriate garb. Even his air-cast has been replaced by a less anachronistic one.

[cutting_edgex23]

"I do not think it is a very good joke," X says as she follows behind Mike, in no way keeping a weather eye out in case he slips. (There can be uncertain footing in a stable, when one walks with a cane.)

She is dressed in a black surcoat, one that looks much like what she wears in Ambergeldar when appearances matter.

[mnt_mike]

"More a statement of fact than anything," he says pausing to watch the door close behind them. There's a brief glimpse at Splinter just before the portal through reality seals shut. Mike returns the older man's bow as best as he can given the circumstances.

With a sigh Mike turns back towards the direction of the barn door.

"Splinter says it's just through there."

[cutting_edgex23]

X tilts her head, studying Mike for a moment, even as she keeps pace with him on their way toward the exit.

"You will be recognized?"

[mnt_mike]

"Does this look like a face that anyone is likely to forget?" he says mugging for X's benefit.

In truth, he has no idea, because he doesn't remember any of this place in the slightest.

They make their way towards the front of the tavern, and stop in front of the heavy wood front door. Mike takes a deep breath before pulling it open.

Now or never.

[cutting_edgex23]

"I am better with scent," she says, which is true enough.

X stays just behind him and to the left as he enters, watching his back.

And maybe nudging her shoulder against his, very gently.

Just so he does not forget that she is there.

[becareful_boyo]

The tavern remains remarkably quiet. Even Evan, deep in his cups and usually fond of a loud guffaw, gives a mere nervous titter when he sees Mike and X.

Abigail looks up.

Her eyes narrow, then widen as her eyebrows rise.

"Well, well. Look what the universe spat up." She turns to X, a dangerous sort of smirk curving her lips. She hits the tankard against the bar; pauses to examine the dent. "Laura."

She likes Laura.

(She likes Mike, too, but he deserves to sweat a little.)

[cutting_edgex23]

"Abigail," X says. She does not quite smile, but it comes pretty close, for her.

"Hello. You have been okay?"

The lingering tension in the tavern can't really be missed, even if Abigail does not seem particularly possessed of any.

Sometimes it is better to check.

[becareful_boyo]

It seems as if everyone inside waits for Abigail's answer with the same held breath.

"Oh, right as rain in the worst drought months," she answers, rubbing at a spot with her thumb.

The regulars exhale. Slowly, the volume rises.

"You?"

Her eyes flick to Mike, taking in his appearance.

"The llamas'll be pleased to see Sven here."

Deadpan.

[mnt_mike]

"Great," he says after a too long beat of silence.

Mike doesn't feel the tension in the room, because he's too busy being distracted by the bottom dropping out of his stomach.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Mike," X says levelly.

Maybe it's a reminder to Abigail.







Maybe it's a reminder to Mike.

[becareful_boyo]

Abigail tilts her head, studying him.

"Mike," she parrots, dragging out the sound of his name like a prompt. Then, straightening her shoulders, "Tell me you aren't here 'cause Raph has been gettin' himself in trouble."

This last she directs at Laura, figuring she'll deal straight. It doesn't seem to be in her nature to do otherwise.

[mnt_mike]

Mike doesn't so much wince when she says his name, as he does tense. Good thing he has this handy walking stick. It gives his hands something to fiddle with.

"Raph's fine," he manages, though it sure does sound like his voice is a bit on the dry side. "Or at least I imagine he is. I...he. He doesn't know I'm here.

...

We're here."

[cutting_edgex23]

"Raph is good at staying out of trouble," X offers, matter-of-factly.

"In Milliways."

Beat.

"Lately."

The quick look she flicks in Mike's direction suggests that Abigail should append a 'better than Mike has been' to any or all of those statements.

[becareful_boyo]

"Is he now?"

A soft snort of amusement escapes, at this and at the mental image of Raph's face when he hears about her visitors. Abigail puts the tankard away, the dent a lost cause, and begins to saunter around to where Mike is standing. She takes in his hands first, noting the fiddling and checking for weird cylinders with flashing lights.

The way she moves isn't threatening, exactly, but she is holding that rag like she's prepared to snap it in Mike's face.

"You reckon you've been gettin' in enough trouble for all the brothers, then?" Eyebrows raised.

[mnt_mike]

No flashing MIB tech here. Nothing but an average, run of the mill, walking stick. In fact, it's a scaled up model of the sort often utilized by four foot talk talking rats.

"I wouldn't dare say enough for all of us," he says a touch smoothly, his eyes darting to X.

"She might, though."

[cutting_edgex23]

X considers this very carefully.

"I do not know if it would be better," she says eventually. "If it were."

It might mean Mike getting in even more trouble.

And really, no one wants that.

[becareful_boyo]

No one but the Trickster God, maybe.

Abigail looks at X for a long moment, considering.

Back to Mike.

Bluntly, "Then why're you here?"




Part of her hopes he's here to invite her to Milliways behind his brother's back. She's not proud.

[mnt_mike]

Mike's expression freezes, and he finds the need to look at something, anything, that isn't Abigail right this second.

The next second, however, finds him catching and holding her eye-contact.

"I'm here to apologize and ask for your forgiveness."

[cutting_edgex23]

X remains both silent and watchful.

All emotional and interpersonal underpinnings aside, this is foreign territory. It is better to be careful.

[becareful_boyo]

Uh huh.





When it's clear Mike isn't saying more, Abigail asks "For what, then?" in a deceptively sweet voice.

Because, as she has explained to Raph time and again, it's as important to know why you're apologizing as to do the deed itself.

[mnt_mike]

There's a moment when Mike blanches. In that moment he thinks that, like him, she doesn't remember what happened.

That moment passes when he notices the slight edge to her smile.
She's playing with him.

"To be completely honest? I'm still not entirely sure of the specifics, because everything that happened the last time I was here is just...not here," he says tapping at his temple.

"But I've been told I was more than inappropriate, misused technology I shouldn't have meddled with, and have a lot to answer for because of both."

[cutting_edgex23]

"You cannot make people into what you want."

X's delivery is flat and forceful, though her expression remains blank.

"I know."

Trying only creates monsters. On every side.

[becareful_boyo]

The thing is, she doesn't actually remember. That was the whole problem. But she figured it out and had her revenge, and as far as Abigail is concerned?

'Sven' made them square.

But that's no fun to admit right away, is it?

She nods twice, the slow motion meant to acknowledge and approve Laura's statement.

Abigail's voice goes soft for real, now. "I'm sure the Lioness has had words with you about bringin' that sort of stuff to our world, so I'll leave off that. Splinter an' the boys probably filled in the rest, made you suffer." She squints at him, gaze questioning. "You're no buffle brained fool, even though you might act it, so I'm bettin' you get why messin' with someone's head space is no good.

"Way I see it, there's just one thing left to do."

She starts winding up the towel again.

[mnt_mike]

He maintains eye contact up until the moment when she starts to spin the towel.

You don't survive childhood as the youngest of four without knowing exactly what such an action means.

"...I deserve his," he says wincing.