milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The ~~vampire~~ man who walks into the bar looks rather...stricken. Like he's just lost something very, very important.

He's meant to be in Helen's lab, working up some sort of power source for his latest invention, but he just...can't.

He slides onto a stool at the bar and says, "Atlantean. The bottle."

What he gets instead is a very expensive pinot noir.

"Fuck."

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Yrael can usually tell when Nikola has come to Milliways - no one else's scent has that unique and rather trilling blend of an impending thunderstorm and the metallic tang of blood.

That's likely why Yrael is surprised to see Nikola, when the Bright Shiner approaches the bar today.

Something is different.

Something is very different. It's all the more obvious when Nikola doesn't immediately turn to greet Yrael. He doesn't smell the Bright Shiner either.

He does, however, drain his first glass of wine exactly has he used to.

Yrael stands nearby, head tilted as he watches Nikola drink.

Something is not only different - something is wrong. It's not the drinking. It's... Yrael can't quite put his finger on it.

"Bar, I think I'll have what he's having," he says, finishing his approach to the bar and sliding onto the bar stool next to Nikola as he would at any other time. "And leave the bottle."

Yrael never really matches Nikola glass for glass, anyway, but this will negate the necessity for ordering a second bottle should Nikola continue drinking at his present speed.

Nikola glances up at him, doing his best not to look despondent.

"Rough day?" he asks dryly.

"Odd, I would say," Yrael replies, taking up his glass, "more than rough. Milliways is being Milliways."

With all that entails. He has not experienced any symptoms of what has been affecting some others, but is understandably curious.

He adds, lightly, as he takes a sip of his wine, "You?"

Nikola thinks for a moment before answering. There is only so much he can say without actually breaking down.

"Incomparable."

Yrael watches him. He has seen Nikola frustrated, angry, intent, determined, pleased, content, and even (though few could likely say this) asleep.

He has never seen him lost.

"I believe you."

Nikola swirls his wine in the glass.

He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it again.

He finds he has nothing to say.

It isn't often that Yrael has a reason not to indulge to his curiosity. Reasons to show restraint are few and far between.

But Nikola is one, because Yrael has figured out what is wrong with Nikola's scent.

It's human, and that fact disturbs him more than he was expecting.

Nikola frowns into his glass and takes another long sip.

After a long moment, he says, "Do I smell that much different?"

Yrael is troubled.

Nikola was in his... twenties, perhaps, when he had discovered his genetic lineage? That gives him, what, another five or six decades at most?

This isn't a possibility Yrael had expected to have to confront.

"Quite," he answers, drinking again. He does not tell Nikola that he nearly overlooked him.

Nikola frowns and casts a quick glance in Yrael's direction.

"You needn't stay if it's that unpleasant."

Yes, he fully accepts the possibility that the stench of humanity might be too much for some. He'd hardly blame Yrael.

Yrael looks at him. He is... troubled, yes, and not a little saddened by this turn of events, but there is no revulsion in his look.

"If you think, genius," he says, quietly, "that how you smell would drive me away - think again."

He wouldn't say it doesn't matter; one wouldn't have to be a genius to see through that lie. But, for what it's worth, his words are an acceptance of whatever has happened, an assertion that what happened does not change what is between them, and an offer of support.

Nikola wouldn't dream of letting how pleased he is to hear that show on his face.

But he is. Very pleased.

He nods and sips his wine.

Yrael's esteem isn't given because of what one's blood has in it.

His friendship is not built on one's lineage.

And if Nikola dares to think that being a vampire is all that makes him special - well, he's an idiot.

Or, at least, that is the sentiment behind the light bump of Yrael's shoulder against Nikola's shoulder.

Nikola finishes his second glass and pours himself another, offering the bottle to Yrael as well in lieu of returning that bump.

Yrael accepts the bottle with a nod of thanks, and pours himself another glass.

Because what else is there to say?

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