(no subject)

[manofmyword]

There is a man in the bar, sitting alone at a table for four with the Observation Window directly on his left, close enough to touch. He has an enormous glass jar of jelly beans and he is methodically sorting them by colour into a number of smaller bowls laid out in front of him.

Other things about him that might come off as odd include: the fact that he is wearing a ferociously lilac button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows under a muted green vest; the fact that he is not wearing any shoes, and his socks don't match, one of them yellow with a black pattern of bats and the other black with little yellow smiley faces; and, finally, the scars on his face, extending the sides of his mouth into a permanent crooked smile.

He might welcome company. Or he might not. It's not always easy to tell.

Comments

[therighttime]

That's... interesting.

Steph isn't fresh from her door or on her way out, but until she gets more comfortable in Milliways, she's not leaving her shield anywhere she can't see it. All the same, she's not going to advertise if she can avoid it.

There's a very tall, gentle-faced woman coming down the stairs with a very large circular backpack over one shoulder. Her outfit is subdued, loose and feminine beige slacks, high-waisted, and a button-up blouse in blue. And with a severe lack of cameras and disapproving military figures around, Steph is quite happily wandering around with limp-nearly-flat blonde hair in rumpled waves.

Steph likes Milliways. She has combat boots in her closet upstairs, right next to a fluffy-skirted dress that she picked out.

Milliways is great.

Even if it's also kind of weird sometimes.

Still. Everybody likes jelly beans. Steph pauses at the base of the stairs to examine the huge jar, the methodical sorting, curious.

"Just a handful isn't enough?" she asks, voice friendly, a little teasing.

[manofmyword]

"Not today," he says, glancing up at her with a similarly friendly sort of smile. His voice has an up-and-down seesaw cadence to it that's very distinctive. "But if you want one, feel free." He nudges a bowl in her direction, the one that happened to already be closest; it contains beans in every hue that's between blue and green but not quite exclusively either.

[therighttime]

He's not the oddest person she's met here and the last thing Steph is going to do after the second world war and a Chitauri invasion is call attention to someone's scars. She smiles back and nods her thanks, peering into the little bowl. Blues and greens, she'd think blueberry, maybe blue raspberry, green apple. Some of the odder flavors but if it's the one he's offering, she's not going to presume.

"Nice of you," she says instead, reaching for one. It's a darker green than she'd expect for apple, but it's not like the future hasn't surprised her before. When it comes to food, it's generally a pleasant one.

--although popping it in her mouth and taking a quick chew has her expression twisting.

[manofmyword]

He brightens, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"Ooh, what'd you get?"

[therighttime]

Her lips are twisted, nose wrinkled, eyes narrowed. But she takes another few chews.

"Um... I think... spinach?"

Really not what she was expecting to get in a piece of candy.

[manofmyword]

He giggles.

"I've never had that one before!" he says. "That's what I love about these things, you nnnever get the same one twice." He picks a bean out of the same bowl, a slightly bluer shade, and tries it. "Salty," he pronounces, and touches his tongue thoughtfully to his lips. "That's it, I think. Salt."

[therighttime]

Steph blinks, abruptly grateful she likes spinach in the first place. She swallows once and examines the beans again, thoughtful. "Are they all funny like that? They don't have any of the usual flavors?"

[manofmyword]

"Oh, maybe they do," he says with a wave of his hand. "Somewhere. You want to go looking? Be my guest," rapping his knuckles on the side of the jar.

[therighttime]

Well, she's not going to stick her whole hand into it. That'd just be rude. But she flashes the man a smile all the same and reaches for another from the green-blue bowl. It's a brighter green, streaked with light veins and she holds it between two fingers, reaching for a chair at his table with her free hand. "Thank you. Can I join you?"

It'd be rude to just keep standing there eating all his candy.

[tiltingwithlips]

". . . What on earth is all that?"

The woman peering at his jelly bean endeavor is tall, dark-haired, British, and wrinkling her nose. His table smells like an entire grocery store.

[manofmyword]

"Jelly beans," he says serenely, depositing two into a bowl with no clear theme.

[tiltingwithlips]

"What kind?"

[manofmyword]

"All kinds."

[tiltingwithlips]

She wrinkles her nose, sniffing again -- and taking in the man sorting the beans, too. Makeup -- gunpowder?

"How do you mean?"

[manofmyword]

"Just what it sounds like. Wanna try?" He makes an inviting gesture at the array of bowls.

[tiltingwithlips]

"I'm not sure," she says, hooking her thumbs into her belt-loops. "Do I?"

[manofmyword]

"Up to you," he says, touching his tongue to his lips and picking out a bright red bean from a bowl full of reds and purples.

[smokeandstreets]

"Ooh, jelly beans."

Tony has a bottle of beer in hand and has not yet registered that Glasgow smile. His smirk may change when he does.

For now: ooh, jelly beans!

[manofmyword]

"Try one," the Joker invites, with an open-handed gesture encompassing all the bowls on the table.

[smokeandstreets]

"Hey, thanks."

Tony has apparently never learned not to accept food from strangers in Milliways.

He grabs a purple one, because purple jelly beans are always good!

". . . What the fuck is that?"

[manofmyword]

"I dunno," he says. "What is it?"

[smokeandstreets]

"Not candy."

Tony doesn't recognize the taste of eggplant.

--This is about the time Tony gets a look at the Joker's grin, and blinks.

[manofmyword]

"Some of 'em aren't," he says, with a cheerful grin that is likely to be deliberate. Especially considering how he tilts his head just so, putting the scars in the light.

"That's the fun part! You never know what you're gonna get. Wanna 'nother one?"

[smokeandstreets]

"Iiii dunno," Tony says, eyeing the man and the beams with about equal dubiousness. "I like my candy to taste like fuckin' candy."

[manofmyword]

"Mm." He shrugs acknowledgment. "Suit y'self," he says amicably, and picks a bean out of the jar without looking. Nom!