milliways_bar | (no subject)

Somehow, he manges to drop from above witha full cup of tea and a suacer, without spilling a drop.

"Evenin."

Yes, he's got the mask on. And he's leaning back against the comfy chair.

The appearance doesn't startle her, really. The tea, though? "Impressive."

"Training excercise. My teacher used to make me keep my balance on the train from London to Breckinridge, never spilling a drop. After I got that down, I had to do it blindfolded."

A sip of the tea.

"Relax day?"

"No, just taking an hour or two. That way I can look everything over with fresh eyes, make sure I'm not missing some big gaping hole."

You have a lot more time to plan when you don't sleep...

"Interesting teacher."

"Smart move."

A faitn shrug.

"He's the best, at least at the whole detective hero side of things."

"I don't see how the whole tea thing applies." She grins slightly. "Not a bad lesson, though."

"When you're on top of the train?"

It makes it much worse.

"Teaches you how to balance, really well. Catlike, alomst. Plus, we're british, tea is an obssession."

"Ah." She takes a sip of her coffee, grinning slightly. "Must have missed that particular piece of information when I was in spy school."

"You went to spy school? Lucky. I had to learn everything one on one."

Which, can be good sometimes.

"On the plus side, you probably weren't tortured when you made a mistake," she says brightly. "Or just killed outright."

"He only killed me twice, and those were both for practical reasons."

A small down turn in his normal smile, but it's back quick.

"The torture was all for a good cause, I suppose."

She blinks once, raising an eyebrow. "Practical reasons?"

A pause. "It usually isn't."

"The first time was to meet Death, the second was to go visiting in Her realm."

He pauses glancing down at his tea.

"You gotta be prepared. There's some evil people out there, you gotta learn to be able to take what they might do to you, right?"

"I've never held with teaching people by breaking them," she says quietly.

"But that's just me."

"I wouldn't do it either. Not my style. My team works through common bonds and trust."

He glances back at her.

"But it didn't have any lasting bad effects on me."

"Is that really ever something you can know for sure? You can find out scars are there, yeah, but being certain they're not?"

A long gaze into the fire.

"Yeh. Moonchild checked me out."

That gets a raised eyebrow, though she doesn't say anything.

Some things necessitate silence.

"I told you I lead a team? Moonchild is our team... Huh. Hard to put it to one title. She's a telepath, and empath, a healer and a teleporter, all rolled into one. She takes care of us."

Cause she's a helluva lot older then any of them.

"Den mother?" Max offers by way of descriptor.

"Maybe. She's a demoness with a soul. A succubus, even. So, ah..."

He blushes.

"Not mother so much. Or so the boys tell me."

Max blinks, then starts snickering. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to know..."

"Considering the other two straight guys on my team are a speed freak and a half golem..."

A shake of his head.

"No details."

((OOC: Slowtime?)

"A half what?" A moment's pause. "On second thought, never mind..."

"Cyborg a better word?"

A faint shrug.

"Heros on my world get weird."

There's a flash of something in her eyes, and she looks away, out the observation window.

"Cyborgs I'm familiar with."

"He's a good kid."

They're all good kids.

"It evens out."

She blinks, startled. "Never figured he wouldn't be."

"sorry, I get lost in thought sometimes."

A brief pause, as he rewinds.

"You know, it's really not that common for me to get this lost in conversations. You really do seem quite good at bringing it out."

She grins briefly. "What can I say? I'm a bad influence on most people."

"I'm not so sure it's bad."

A soft chuckle.

"This place, however is a rotten influence."

She can't help but laugh at that. "So I've heard..."

"Too easy to get lasy."

A gesture at the bar.

"With the tab and all."

"Really? I've found there's plenty to do, a lot of the time."

Max tends to gravitate towards trouble...

A blink.

"How do you manage? I spend most of the time up in the Rafters, keeping my skills practiced. And keeping an eye out for thiefs."

Already found one. Made a deal with him.

"Thieves? Any particular reason for that?"

Max smiles wryly. "As for how, it's a talent of mine."

A faint shrug.

"I'm good at it. And this place is ripe for a pickpocket. I man, I know they have rules, but who enforces them?"

Cause, as far as the mun remembers, she still hasn't told him she's on security.

Nope. She hasn't. Half the time she doesn't - there's some sort of weird mental block against admitting she's in a position of authority until it becomes important, or something.

She's a weird one.

"Security." She grins, winks. "We're not that bad at what we do."

Better not to mention the fact that a good half of the patrons would probably do some serious harm to any offending pickpockets on their own, rules or no.

Tim blinks several times.

"Oh, my... wait, and you're making plans to rob a place?"

"I'm on Security. I'm not a cop." She grins. "And the museum isn't in the bar. And it's all based on the same principle - you protect the people and the places that matter to you."

"Ahah."

He cocks his head, then nods.

"And I spot a business part... ah, an associate who I should talk to. No business, that's illegal."

He winks, and is away.

Blink. Blink.

Oh, yeah, he's a weird one all right.