milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ramon enters the bar, followed by a warm gust of air that smells like the sea. He's looking casual and tanned, and is smoking a large cigar. All in all, life seems to be pretty good right now.

The only thing that can make it better? A bar-cooked dinner and alcohol, which he proceeds to order from a rat after lounging in a booth.

There's a good mood happening over here. Get it while it lasts!

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Well, here is someone bound to ruin in it about five minutes.

"Ramon."

Well, maybe not! He has, after all, told himself that he'll be nice to people now.

...although whether there will be selected exclusions from that rule, remains to be seen.

'Bianca.'

He doesn't sound pissed off.

She doesn't sound moody. We'll see how far this lasts.

"Wondering...were you serious? About that offer of Haven?"

Hmmm. An interesting opening parry. Calling him on a conversation with her husband, whom she knows he won't lie to - an attempt to deflect the Wrath she must surely know is due to her?

'Sure.'

She raises an eyebrow, at that.

"So, could we take you up on that offer? Before one of us has a nervous breakdown due to one thing or another?"

Did she think he didn't mean it when he offered it? The raised eyebrow is mirrored on his own face.

'I can see why Arithon would have a nervous breakdown, and it's freely offered with that alone. Why would you ba about to have one?'

She counts them off on her long fingers.

"In the last four months, I have become mortal, which involves having a spirit ripped out of me and suddenly existing with the sensation that I am going blind and death all the time, Santino arrives and considering that during the Secodn World War I ripped out his throat, I am just a little nervous around him. The Mistwraith came and cursed our friends and made sure my husband had multiple injuries, recovering from that he brings home a little girl without a soul whom I currently have cringing around my house and I can hear all of her thoughts. Then I work out that I'm nearly three months pregnant. Which, my dear cath'e'dein, is the most likely reason the Mistwraith was trying to kill me. On top of all of that, I have to deal with Arithon's trauma from most of the some incidences. Last year? Just before this time? I had been living alone for decades. It's just a little shock to the emotional system."

Blah blah blah blah I'm nearly three months pregnant blah blah blah.

...

'...wait, what?'

"What is the point of asking questions if you do not listen to the answers?"

'Pregnant. Pregnant?'

Oh, bugger.

He sighs and reaches for his drink.

'Congratulations.'

He even manages to make it sound polite.

"Pregnant." She agrees, still watching him.

He's still blinking a little because wow. Kids everywhere at the moment. But he knows it'll make Arithon happy, so it's OK.

'Well, it's a good thing. Asandir will be pleased, I guess.'

But he thinks his own job just got a hell of a lot harder.

"Well, good for Asandir."

He clicks his tongue in reproach, and with not a small hint of reproach.

'No need to be like that. Why, aren't you happy?'

"I worked it out yesterday. Because my jeans don't fit. Let me have some time to get used to the idea."

His 'hormonal milkbag' comment comes back to him, not that he's stupid enough to say it. It's just that it's occured to him that wow, she really will be hormonal now and it's not like her temper wasn't bad enough to start off with. There's an internal sigh at this realisation.

'Three months, huh? Well...hell, I guess it's a good thing that you only have six left? Less time to worry.'

Or something.

Nope, she does not look very impressed with this.

He's trying?

'So, this is why you want to go to Haven? Rest up and keep yourself safe? Well, it's fine - Random and I are living in Portugal at the moment, so it's free. I'll have to go in and tidy up a bit though, get a few things to take to the other house - when did you want to go?'

"Once we work out what we are doing with Elizabeth. So, I'm not sure, really. But...soon would be good."

'Who's Elizabeth?'

He pulls on his cigar, doing a mental inventory of everything that'll need to be taken to Portugal. And the things that'll need to be locked away.

"The girl."

'Thought her name was Tool.'

It doesn't occur to him that that might have been a description more than an actual name.

'She alright?'

Not that he cares.

"Would you like 'Drug Lord' to be your name?"

He smirks at her.

'I get called 'Boss' all the time, back on Earth. I like it.'

Because it reminds everyone else of their place, constantly. Which is below him. He'll never object to that.

"Ramon? I know you are an intelligent man. Do sometimes try and act like it?"

'Intelligent? Shit, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my cover.'

It's possible that he's being an idiot to annoy her a bit. Because she threw him in the ocean.

'Besides, acting dumb is part of my charm.'

Sweetly,

"Charm?"

He nods back, looking smug.

'Charm. Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean I don't have it. And that's your problem. Just means I haven't turned it on with you.'

Now he's really talking out of his ass. But it's better than being pissy with her because he really is trying not to be with people.

"...five hundred years of this." And then she just rolls her eyes and walks away.

He feels the same way. But that doesn't mean he won't find Arithon as soon as he can to tell him congratulations.

Gorlim hands him a button.

Because just about everyone else he knows has been taking them, so he's decided to start giving them away.

It's a really nice button. One of those kinds that's flat with just the one round thingy in the back. It has a thistle on it.

Ramon blinks at it.

'Thanks?'

He's not really a button type of guy.

[OOC: I'm crashing in 20 minutes mate, but slowtime is love?]

[ooc: No problem. SLEEP IS GOOD.]

It's the thought that counts?

"You're welcome!" Gorlim answers cheerfully.

And disappears back into the crowd.

This random button molestation has been brought to you by the letter C_rack, and the number 19.

Ramon blinks some more. Because frankly,

What.
The.
Fuck.

He puts the button on the table to give to Random. He'll probably love it.

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