It sounds like the start of a bad joke: What do you get when you pair a party-hard thief, a self appointed hero and the world's angriest not-engineer together in a world where people suddenly start developing superpowers? Shenanigans and maybe a lit...
On the upside, though, it should probably be noted that Demo was about as impressed with Kit's word vomit as he was, at least if the you-are-crazy-and-trying-my-patience look Kit got was anything to go by. Those caterpillar eyebrows were doing some major Olympics on Demo's face. Kit tried not to stare too obviously while simultaneously wishing he'd brought along one of his cameras.
"He's an herbivore," Kit explained as if his words needed further elaboration and uncrossed his arms to lean against the counter, "makes him sensitive see."
Cringe. He really needed that coffee.
"Uh-huh," more eyebrow Olympics and that vaguely homicidal look Kit remembered spying on the guy was starting to make an appearance, yikes. Couldn't really blame him though, "just look," Demo said, jabbing a finger behind Kit, "and get the fuck outta my shop."
"Language."
"Fuck you," Demo growled.
Kit smiled winningly, all sharp edges and pearly whites. It was a good smile. If not somewhat deranged. Demo glared in response.
Uncultured Barista - 2, Mildly Offended Kit - 0
"Bossy," Kit quipped, "you this nice to all your customers, or am I just really special?"
Demo the barista, ignored him, opting to once again jab a finger in the air. "Just. Look."
"Christ, fine," Kit said. Dick didn't like being smooshed, so Kit let out a breath and straightened, pulling down his shirt where it had started bunching the Brontosaurus' face around his middle, "this, by the way, is why no one's here during hell week 1.0," he muttered, gesturing between the two of them and sobering (at least as much as he could which was probably still something like the flat side of sardonic). He turned around, "because you're an ass--" Kit shut his mouth. Opened it. Did a good impression of a suffocating fish. Blinked at the sky. Tilted his head to the left. Scratched at the lame excuse of a beard he had growing on his face with blunt nails. Stared at the sky some more. Blinked again. Yep. It was still there. And that... That was weird. "Huh," he said, "that's weird."
Not a genius comeback but in his defense, he was still running off about thirty minutes of sleep and freaking out about the Art History midterm he had to take in... now five minutes. Shit. Sue him for not making his surroundings priority Numero Uno.
Bossy Barista - 3, Oblivious Kit - ...
"Yeah."
In the sky, hovering larger than life was a giant oblong...rock, for lack of a better word. It cast a wide shadow over half the University. Kit could see some students pointing up at it but for the most part, people just seemed to act like it wasn't there. Which again, weird. Also, now Kit really wanted that coffee and his camera.
"Y'know," Kit said after a moment, (and if maybe the only reason he started talking again was that he couldn't stand the somewhat awkward silence that had settled between them, well, that was no one's business but his own), "it's probably a promotion. Like, 'Surprise! April Fools! Come watch our movie! Promise you aren't really being invaded!'" He jazz handed for dramatic effect.
Demo, though, was not amused. Those Olympic eyebrows of his seemed to be going for the gold, fluctuating between expressions of My-God-You-Are-A-Child and Think-Anyone-Would-Notice-If-I-Used-The-Blender-For-First-Degree-Murder? Honestly, it was a little flattering if not somewhat masochistic to think so.
Demo's sneered out reply of, "what," was just the icing on the proverbial cake. The amount of dry WTF he managed to pack in that one word was almost enough to make Kit want to take it back. Almost. Kit never did have a very good survival instinct though.
"C'mon, give me a bone," Kit said, "pretty sure, that made at least a little sense."
There was a tick in Demo's jaw when he finally ground out, "what, are you talking about?" through gritted teeth. Kit pursed his lips and shrugged, taking it. It was probably the closest thing to a 'bone' he was getting. "Movies, man. Promo," he said, "I mean, look, thinking this is for that one, uh--I think it has that red-headed chick, Amy Adams--movie sounds less crazy than 'here be aliens' or whatever the fuck, right?"
"Are..." Demo took a breath, then, as if it pained him, said, "are you talking about Arrival?"
"Yeah. That one," Kit absentmindedly drummed two fingers on his chest while eyeing the basket of Biscotti he'd noticed on the counter beside him. They looked really good, drizzled in chocolate, and smelling faintly of cinnamon.
Demo slowly shook his head, regaining Kit's attention. "I don't think that's what this is," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "why did I even ask?" He glared at Kit, "that was a dumb idea," he grumbled, "you are obviously an idiot."
"Huh," Kit glanced at the basket of biscotti biscuits again. His stomach growled. "Really?" He gasped, mock affronted, and mustering as much fake surprise as possible, "no, way. Guess it is aliens then."
"Yeah."
"Well," Kit rolled his eyes. Fuck it. When in Rome, "whatever it is, think it'll get me out of my midterms?" Kit grabbed one of the biscuits from the basket and took a careful bite. Holy. That was good. He hummed around the mouthful.
Demo just stared at him, a little slack-jawed, his caterpillar eyebrows almost disappearing in the fronds of his oily hair. Whether it was from the question or from the balls it took to more-or-less steal a biscuit right in front of him, Kit wasn't sure but the reaction was pretty priceless. Kit took another bite from his biscuit, munching sagely. Demo pointed towards the door.
"Get the fuck out."
Kit finished his biscuit slowly and with a swallow wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A few crumbs landed on the counter, speckling it like dirt. Demo grimaced and waved his hand at the door. "Out," he said, tone hard and brokering no debate. Kit shrugged and grabbed another biscuit before turning towards the door with a slight spring in his step. Childish and vindictive? Maybe, but so, so worth it. All he'd wanted was a coffee, but dammit, he'd settle for 'free' biscotti.
Bitchy Barista - 4, Kit the Uncaffinated - Got The Fuck Out
(In other news, midterms were decidedly not canceled and he was totally late for Professor Hard-Ass' Art History exam from hell. Prof. Isaacs was a mad man, Kit decided, completely insane. Kit was pretty sure like twenty percent of his grade got docked in those five seconds alone. Life officially sucked. Not to mention he couldn't stop wondering if the weird rocks in the sky were some sort of promo or not. He wanted to be right so he could rub it that angry little barista's bushy face.)
((Course thinking about that and trying to remember whether or not Theotokos and Child were Byzantine in origin or Late Gothic on thirty minutes of noncaffeinated sleep really didn't go together. Whoop-dee-freaking-doo.))
A/N: Hi all! And thanks for reading the first chapter of 'Kit and the Art of Thieving'! I hope you enjoyed this quirky off-beat little brain child of mine and will continue to do so. Any feedback on pacing, character or chapter length will be greatly appreciated! Art by the lovely @SyniaSidhe
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