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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It has been several nights since Amanda has seen Desire, though she believes that it was nothing more then a dream.

So she walks over to the Endless sipping her peach smoothy. Something about that lingering scent has stayed with her.

"Good Afternoon."

Wonders of wonders! Jack, for once, is writing, rather intently, though he still glances up on occasion, thinking about something that most certainly his not his story.

Desire sees her and lights up, grinning mischeviously. "Amanda! Lovely to see you, chou. And how are you?"

He sits up properly and shifts his feet off the bench: It's not the most overt invitation to sit Desire's ever given, but it should be enough for her.

Poor Jack, having picked a table so close to Desire's booth.
The Endless studies him a long moment, smoking a cigarette and studying him curiously -- looking for something.
Desire grins.

Fresh meat.

Jack doesn't feel like a prime cut of rib handing from a string, though he ought to, poor Endless novice. He flips a page and proceeds to write a sentence before he stops again, looking off in the distance.

On a whim, he looks around and sees Desire--and a bunch of other people, who he doesn't acknowledge.

"It is very nice to see you again as well." ooh look at that mischief that gleams in her eyes.

It is enough for Amanda. She takes the seat next to the Endless and leans against him still sipping the smoothie.

"Though I'm not doing all that well to be honest. But I'm getting there." Except for the speratic emotional outburst she seems to be getting back to her old self.

Tch. Not the most observant sort, is he?
Desire watches him write, stop, and write some more: Jack doesn't seem to be very good at keeping his mind on what's he's doing, there.
He must be in need of a distraction.

Desire takes the cigarette and leaves the booth, veering toward Jack's chosen table.

Only when he wants to be.

And this time, when he glances up from his writing again, he notices a woman approaching his table. He stares at her, unable to look away despite interior monologue telling him he should look down.

The moment she leans on Desire, his arm finds its way around her shoulders.
My, that peach-scent seems to be everywhere, doesn't it?

Desire's lips tighten slightly and he nods. "The diamond?"

Amanda is silent for a time while her heart seems to try and decide if it's happy or sad thinking about the heist. In the end it decides happy as a triumphant and mischievous grin crosses her lips. Maybe it was the peach smoothie that did it. "Upstairs." she anounces.

She offers him a smile as she catches the glance: The longer he looks, the more that smile turns into a grin. It's bright, sharp, much like an actress smiling for the camera.

She puts out her hand as she draws close enough, cigarette hand half-hidden behind her.
"Hello there. Call me Desire."

If there's one thing Saionji desires more than anything else--more than Anthy's love, more than Touga's friendship--it's something eternal.

Something Endless.

So it's not because she's familiar, exactly, that Saionji slows on his way to the Bar to stare. If she's familiar, it's that she (impossibly) looks like a castle in the sky or a sword, shining with the power to revolutionize the world. Like nothing human, nothing fleeting, at all.

The shinai and snowy broom slung over his shoulder slip to the ground with a clatter.

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.

His lips purse, slightly; he's curious. Why's she here? His mind, for some unknown reason, suspects maybe she wants to be in one of his plays--but then why would anyone approach him here, at the end of the universe, where he's Bound and unfamiliar?

He extends his hand to shake hers.

"Jack Driscoll. Nice to meet you."

Whatever Saionji saw in her, she doesn't look all that different from an Ohtori student now -- Perhaps a little more like Juri and Utena in dress, but still something recognizable -- and her attention is caught by the sudden clatter.

Her eyes are golden, and she meets Saionji's stare curiously.
Then, she stands and bows in his direction.

He bows back, very correct. "Senpai," he says quietly. If he has to meet classmates, at least they can look like this.

Although--there are all sorts of questions, here. He gathers up his dropped and borrowed possessions, leaving a splash of snow on the floor.

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.

"Pleasure, Mister Driscoll." She flashes him another of those grins, and then lightly toes the ground around her feet, glancing at him through her hair as her head tips downward -- the very picture of shy and eager. "D'you mind if I join you, just for a little while?"

Excellent.
"Well done," Desire commends her, reaching across the table with his unoccupied hand to tap his cigarette's ash into the blue ashtray. "And what are your plans for it, now?"

"I don't," he replies, still wary but now on the side of interested.

Amanda laughs, "I think I'll just enjoy it where it is. I didn't really care that much about the diamond itself but rather the diversion of the chase."

Casually sipping her drink until there isn't anymore. She pouts and puts the empty glass on the table.

"Saionji-san," she returns, smiling faintly. "And how are you finding Milliways? Pleasant, I hope?"

"Very," he says, trying to place her. Surely he'd remember anyone who looked like this.

"You can just call me Saionji; and I'm afraid I don't recall your name--?"

She still looks vaguely familiar: It's unnerving, this feeling that he should know her.

Her eyes widen slightly, and then she's shaking her head alightly as if trying to clear it. "How rude of me: I apologize, Saionji. I am Desire."

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.

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