milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's not that Desire hasn't been visiting Milliways: Desire has.
As the Endless is so fond of reminding old friends, this is a bar: Desire never really leaves.
But maybe, just maybe, it's the first time in a long while that the Endless has been spotted moving through the crowd, reclaiming the usual booth.
Desire smirks, sets the cigarette in hand into the blue ashtray on the table and proceeds to get comfortable, shoes propped up on the bench across the way.

So.
How long has it been since you've seen Desire?

[ OOC: Pretty please! I'm attempting to get back in the swing. Ping me at milliwaysdesire before pouncing me, so I know what to expect? Thanks! - Bansh ]

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Okay, so, there was this really hot red-head who lived on a farm, and Harper liked her. A lot.

Thing was, he still had eyes, y'know? And hormones?

So, upon seeing the really, really hot babe in the booth, he couldn't resist leaning against the barrier between one booth and the next, arms crossed, and flinging out a cheesy pick-up line, even if he didn't intend to follow through. He was just wired that way.

"Babe...you're so hot, you'd make the devil sweat."

Funny thing was, the closer he got to the woman, the more he had cravings for beer and something to eat--as if he was subconsciously remembering hunger even though he wasn't hungry at the moment.

His chest felt hollow.

She glances up at him, head tilting up to give him a good look behind the waves of red hair -- and she giggles.
And not like she's laughing at him or the eyepiece, but an honest to God flirting-with-him giggle. As in, wow. Maybe he wants to sit down and see how much more he can make her laugh.

And maybe that fills the gap in his chest, a little.

It did. It honestly did. Just a little.

It also alarmed him a little, made little klaxons blare in his head. As a rule, women didn't giggle at Harper unless they wanted something from him or were laughing at him.

Still, there was no harm in sitting down, right?

"What's a lovely lady like you doing in such seedy, rough-and-tumble establishment like this?" he asked.

Tch! No harm at all.

She grins at him as he sits down, idly tossing her head and sending the red hair out of her face: She looks even better up close than she did from leaning over the next booth, and he can imagine he sees a light smattering of freckles across her pale, pale skin.

"Enjoying myself," she answers, voice light and teasing. "Aren't you?"

"Well, hard not to with so many gorgeous women around," he said. "I like when I have names to go with the pretty faces though, my ravishing red-head, so what's yours?"

"Desire," she offers without hesitation, putting her hand out to Harper. "Feel like returning the favor, or do I have to guess?

She winks.

"Uh...your name's..." He was going to say 'interesting,' but he took her hand and kissed it, then tilted his head in an amused manner and said: "accurate."

"Thank you." She raises an eyebrow at him: The grin hasn't left yet, though, so he's nowhere near getting himself in trouble.
Jeez. Who knew those lines actually worked sometimes? This bar just gets better and better.

"Can I get you a drink? ...Something alcoholic and caffienated, perhaps?"

The grin was contagious.

"Lady, you are speaking my language."

"Excellent! Any preferences, or should I just guess?"

She's standing up from the bench, knees turned the general direction of the bar. Why use the waitrats when she can give him an excuse to watch her redheaded self walk away?

"Why doncha choose for me?" he said, grinning crookedly. "And the name's Seamus Z. Harper." He added: "Super genius."

She winks over her shoulder as she gets up. "Whatever you want, Harper."

She leaves -- and boy, is she fun to watch.
When she comes back, she's got a drink in each hand, and sets his in front of him with a grin. "Hope you don't mind a jumper cable (http://www.webtender.com/db/drink/5905) -- Seemed a little more fun than your standard rum-and-coke."

He did enjoy watching her go indeed, and when he tasted the drink...

"...Okay, marry me. Right now. We'll go off to El Dorado Drift, get the Vedran Palace package, wham-bam we'll be married and honeymoon on the sunny beaches of Infinity Atoll. The sunny nude beaches."

He was only joking.

...Only half-joking.

Desire tilts her head to the side, offering him a small smile as the red hair falls into her face again. "Sounds promising, Harper, but I have to warn you -- I'm not the marrying kind."

"Still want to keep me company?" She clinks the glass of her jumper cable against his.

"Hell yes," he said. "I'm up for a drink witha gorgeous woman anytime."

And she beams so prettily at the compliment, too: In fact, she almost seems to be caught in a faint blush that brings out the freckles.
She raises the glass, looking at Harper. "To interesting new people?"

"Definitely," he said, a little wide-eyed, clinking his glass against hers.

"So..." He scratched the back of his neck. "What kinda aphrodesiacs are you currently using on me? Some kinda pheromones? 'Cause that'd definitely explain this righteous, tingly buzz I'm feeling right now."

Desire laughs. "I'm not, and I didn't put a thing in your drink." She gives him one of those universally known signs that essentially means 'scout's honor.' "You're just being effected by what I am, Harper."

"And what is that, exactly?" he asked, curiously.

She grins. "Just Desire."

This got a sly look. "You, ah, wouldn't happen to have a sister? Pale, pretty hot, goes in for that whole goth look?"

"Matter of fact, I do." She offers him a grin to match that sly look. "You've met Death, I take it?"

"I called her a bitch and she didn't kill me on the spot, so I guess you could say we're at least friendly," Harper admitted.

"She doesn't much like having to work here, so she wouldn't."
Desire's teasing. Really.

"And she has her moments. I seem to drive her to quite a few of them, actually. Older sisters -- What can you do?"

"So you...like Death, you are Desire?" Harper clarified.

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