milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There is a Mordred in the bar. No badge, just himself in his black jacket and plan pin-stripped pants.

Just himself, drinking. Not steadily, but not slowly, either.

[ooc: tag may be slow, as mun is very tired. But they will come]

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Xas matches him.

In motion if not in quantity of alcohol.

"You have a particular favorite drink?"

He gestures almost lazily at whatever Mordred is holding.

"Vodka."

Xas makes a vague noise of assent.

"I confess I can only tolerate that in mixed drinks."

"I'm a soldier. Simple man. Feel free to introduce me, though."

"I might, at that. Some night when I feel the need for hard liquor."

He licks his lips, fingers tight for a moment on the winestem.

"Whatever strikes your fancy."

"I find myself drawn more to books than beer, sad as that may seem to some."

"Knight, boyo. I can read well enough to write reports, but little else. My lover is more bookish, though. And he reads too much."

"I find it difficult to imagine 'too much'. Though I imagine it might be different if you did not also enjoy reading."

"Too much is when you drown in words, when you hide from your head in what your eyes take in."

"I've never actually managed to make that work."

Faint regret tinges his words.

Quietly,

"I don't recomend it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

His eyes narrow, just a little.

Mordred glances at him, golden eyes questioning.

Xas shrugs, a light and fluid motion.

"Distractions are occasionally few and far between."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

The smile doesn't fade, but he fails to elaborate.

"Happens. So, you human, ghost, elf, whatever?"

"Does that change things?"

He sounds curious.

He looks a bit wary.

"Perception of time only. I'm a ghost. Haunted my battlefield for...well, I was killed in 517. Came here after 2000 sometime. You do the math. I don't give shit, just cuious."

"Ah. Well."

He smiles, rueful and slightly hunted.

"I have become accustomed to the company of humans. There are things they would rather not know, you see."

Or rather, he would prefer they not know such things, mostly.

"Yeah, I can kinda understand that."

"So I wear face paint, and I keep my shirt on, and I am careful with names."

He shrugs.

"It seems to pay off, in terms of secrecy."

"Ah, names...I use my last, and it throws people."

"I am perhaps fortunate that my name holds little significance to the majority of people."