[Subete's pockets are more or less empty, and he's spent too much time already brooding instead of doing anything useful (or perhaps at the same time as doing anything useful, given that he's something of a champion at multitasking by this point), but -- then again, this is the most impulsive he's been in a while. And that really does include the week he threw himself headfirst at a pair of Vessels and an entire house's worth of grudges.
It's fine. Sometimes one's temper outstrips common sense, but sometimes one's entire self also defies common sense so just now he's running on spite and fumes and all of the tricks of the trade he shouldn't be using.]
Hmm. We slept for at least twenty years, after all. [a faint sarcastic thrum that's not quite up to his usual standard but it's hard to say whether being frozen in time counted as sleeping; it's also debatable exactly what kinds of fireworks they've missed, overall, but it probably doesn't matter] There's no reason to keep going, and there's a lot of catching up to do...
[Hikage's people watching doesn't get remarked upon, given that they're both moving at a leisurely pace, but it's not entirely missed, either. He's doing his own measuring up, after all, once they get into the restaurant proper -- and it's perhaps notable as well that no one gives them a second glance or even a first one in the cozy space, though this time there's the faintest glow in Subete's palm before he turns it downward, a small limning of light that sweeps its way down to the floor and spreads out like the faintest ripple around their chosen spot.
(It's strange, in its own way, to see people that are the people of this era without being the Foundation's lackeys nor a stray hotel's minions; 2020 is still very much an unknown space, but just now is, probably, not the time he wants to be dealing with it. And all things considered, probably no one out here wants to be dealing with him, either.)
Subete gives the menu a thoughtful sort of staredown, but it only lasts a moment or two.]
... The premium sake on your menu, if you please. One of each of these. [a careless swipe of a finger down the appetizers column with nary a glance at the waitress who seems to be staring studiously at thin air, keeping the same unnatural quiet stance as their driver; he tilts his head at Hikage instead] Order whatever you want. It doesn't much matter.
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It's fine. Sometimes one's temper outstrips common sense, but sometimes one's entire self also defies common sense so just now he's running on spite and fumes and all of the tricks of the trade he shouldn't be using.]
Hmm. We slept for at least twenty years, after all. [a faint sarcastic thrum that's not quite up to his usual standard but it's hard to say whether being frozen in time counted as sleeping; it's also debatable exactly what kinds of fireworks they've missed, overall, but it probably doesn't matter] There's no reason to keep going, and there's a lot of catching up to do...
[Hikage's people watching doesn't get remarked upon, given that they're both moving at a leisurely pace, but it's not entirely missed, either. He's doing his own measuring up, after all, once they get into the restaurant proper -- and it's perhaps notable as well that no one gives them a second glance or even a first one in the cozy space, though this time there's the faintest glow in Subete's palm before he turns it downward, a small limning of light that sweeps its way down to the floor and spreads out like the faintest ripple around their chosen spot.
(It's strange, in its own way, to see people that are the people of this era without being the Foundation's lackeys nor a stray hotel's minions; 2020 is still very much an unknown space, but just now is, probably, not the time he wants to be dealing with it. And all things considered, probably no one out here wants to be dealing with him, either.)
Subete gives the menu a thoughtful sort of staredown, but it only lasts a moment or two.]
... The premium sake on your menu, if you please. One of each of these. [a careless swipe of a finger down the appetizers column with nary a glance at the waitress who seems to be staring studiously at thin air, keeping the same unnatural quiet stance as their driver; he tilts his head at Hikage instead] Order whatever you want. It doesn't much matter.