The Ink Spot, Friday, September 20, 2024

[fears_no_one]

Tiny flags for Belize, Malta, and St. Kitts & Nevis were on the counter today to celebrate their independence days this week. Flint was not in his normal chair by the window today, though: he was in a faceoff with squirrels waving black flags at him. He took another step back from their enthusiasm, frowning. "You're not fucking taking over my shop," he told them. "That's not how piracy works."

The squirrel continued waving their flags.

"I've killed others for much, much less," he warned, eyes going hard.

The squirrels immediately fled, leaving their tiny bottles of rum behind.

"What the hell is wrong with this place?" Flint muttered, cleaning them up before someone came in and stepped on them.

The book store is open and still unwise to yesterday being Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Comments

[mustbeawitch]

Lydia swanned into the shop and probably kicked an abandoned tiny bottle of rum to slide under a shelf never to be seen again. Oops. "Good afternoon, Captain Flint!"

[fears_no_one]

Flint tried to wipe the murderous look off his face as he gave a nod to Lydia. "Miss Bennet. Hello."

[mustbeawitch]

Lydia was oblivious to any murderousness in his face, because Lydia. "I trust you have been well, sir?" He'd been a parrot, Lydia.

[fears_no_one]

"Oh, quite well," Flint assured her, skipping riiiight over the temporary parroting. "And you?"

[mustbeawitch]

"I'm quite well," Lydia said. "I was wondering if you had familiarized yourself with the restaurants in town yet? I was with my friend Miss Finch in Rome on Tuesday," she explained, because that was a thing you could say here, the future was wild, "and she asked if I had tried the Italian restaurant on the island, which I have not, I must admit."

[fears_no_one]

"I have not," Flint said. "I find the prices for things disconcerting still."

Especially since he didn't have black pearls to toss at problems!

[mustbeawitch]

"Oh, I don't understand the prices in the faintest and I've given up trying," Lydia admitted. "They don't seem to make any sense besides. What seems a fairly expensive dress is the same price as about ten meals. I bought a device that everyone says is quite dear, but considering that it does my hair better than a lady's maid it seemed a positive bargain to me."

[fears_no_one]

Flint had spent zero money on products for his hair. It might show!

"I spent a small fortune on my weapons at the shop," Flint admitted, "but it felt like a worthwhile use of money. Tell me more about this restaurant."

[mustbeawitch]

Little bit!

"It's an Italian restaurant, so it serves the food of the Italians, or at least, the food of the Italians of today," Lydia explained. "Pasta--noodles--and the like. A lot of cheese and garlic." Her understanding of Italian food was fairly newly formed, but she knew this much, at least.

[fears_no_one]

"I like cheese," Flint offered. "Will Miss Finch be accompanying us to explain it properly?"

[mustbeawitch]

"I haven't asked her, but I shall," Lydia promised. "It would be most useful to have a modern person who understands these things along." Not that Lydia thought she needed a chaperone with such an old man, but, you know, propriety! "I had thought we might have a sort of club," she said tentatively. "To try out the food." So she didn't have to go to restaurants alone.

[fears_no_one]

Their minds would be blown with Thai food!

Flint smiled. "That seems like an excellent diversion," he said. "I would like to join your club. Are the fees quite steep?"

[mustbeawitch]

And when they found out about sushi, God help them.

"Only the cost of meals, which is somewhat in the hands of the diner," Lydia assured him.

[fears_no_one]

"Very true," Flint said with a quick smile. "I look forward to trying Italian food. More so than to whatever they've done to tea and coffee."