(no subject)

[latino_menace]

Ramon came in an hour or two ago, but for once in his life has been unobtrusive. No, really. And really, that's becoming a habit - one he'd like to break probably.

Either way, that there Latino terrorist is fair game for any kind of conversation you'd like to strike up with him. Can't promise he'll like it, but isn't that half the fun?

Comments

[not-one-drop.livejournal.com]

Mal just likes torturing him.

She looks far better then she has lately - clean white bandages and a new scarf around her neck, a little tired, but not the bone-tired she has been. A little hungover.

She's fiddling with a lighter at a table near the fire, trying to make it work. Soft, inventive curses may be floating his way.

[latino_menace]

He watches her for quite a long time, laughing internally at her attempts to get the thing to work and the cursing as well.

Eventually though, just watching gets boring. Hence...coaster being flicked idly in her general direction. Well, the general direction of her head, anyway.

[not-one-drop.livejournal.com]

She does her nifty fast trick and snactches it out of the air, then glances over.

Oooh, idea.

So, one Mal is approching him, having given up on ever having a cigarette. "Hey. Smoke?"

[latino_menace]

He looks at her sceptically.

'Are you asking me if I want one, or whether I have one?'

[not-one-drop.livejournal.com]

"Do you want one, of course."

A grin. She wishes to steal his. This whole lighter buisness is crap, in her opinion. A match, or a small dragon, and you're all set!

[latino_menace]

He continues to stare at her.

'Sure. If you have one. You owe me two anyway - so we'll call it three, with interest.'

If she's waiting for him to get his pack out, she'll be waiting a long time. Just because he feels like being an asshole today. Y'know, for a change.

[not-one-drop.livejournal.com]

"Fine. Three."

She gets out her own pack and hands them over. She's liking nettling him.

[latino_menace]

He takes them without comment, sliding one into his mouth and lighting it easily with his Zippo.

'You look healthier than last time I saw you.'

His tone isn't disappointed exactly, but not exactly overjoyed either.

[not-one-drop.livejournal.com]

She catches the tone, and for a moment forgets all about stealing the cigarette.

"Yes. You were hoping I'd die?"

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

"Hello, Ramon."

She has, obviously, not been in the bar recently. She may also be one of the few people to simply touch him without asking, as she rests two fingers on his shoulder briefly before sitting down on the floor near his table,

"Its been a while. You look relaxed."

[latino_menace]

Ramon beams instantly and leans over to kiss her cheek. Impulsive, maybe, but he doesn't care. He's been wondering where she was and wanting to talk to her.

'Been ages. Where have you been? And yes, I am.'

A rat is immediately summoned and sent off for a large order of tequila and chocolate.

'How are you?'

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

She smiles in return, and touches fingers to lips and to heart.

"I have been outside, in the woods. Winter is going, spring is coming. It has been..."

She's quiet for a moment, her smile turning wry and her living eye self-amused,

"Do you know Baldur? Called The Beautiful? He...loves me."

She, obviously in her mind, loves him as well. He is the kindest of the gods.

[latino_menace]

Ramon blinks at that, and the smile turns into something more akin to a frown.

'Baldur? Yeah, I met him once. He tried to fuck with my mind or something.'

Needless to say, the meeting had been rather less than successful.

'Loves you does he?'

Hmmm.

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

"I asked him to offer you peace."

She says quietly. She did not, truth be known, expect it to go over terribly well. Then she nods, and folds her hands together. One of them bears a bracelet of pounded metal flowers, far too delicate to be her work,

"There is a prophecy that says he is going to die. That he will come to me. He has chosen not to fight it, so that he will be free of his wife."

[latino_menace]

'He said that. I didn't know if he was telling the truth or not.'

And even if he had thought he was, he still probably wouldn't have accepted it.

'Well, thanks for asking on my behalf. I guess...'

He looks at her from his comfortably slumped position, faintly quizzical.

'...shit, I don't know. I'm crap at this sort of thing. Do you love him?'

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

She looks down at her hands, then back over at Ramon,

"I do. He disconcerts me, and confuses me, and makes me want to smile. He is kind to me, and sometimes holds my hand."

And she doesn't want to think past that, because he is still married.

[latino_menace]

Ramon's about to snort and say that it doesn't like love to him. And then doesn't, for two reasons - one, it sounds exactly like love to him and two, he doesn't want to hurt Hel's feelings.

'Well then.'

He's not quite sure what to say really, this isn't a subject he knows a great deal about.

'When will he be free of his wife? Soon?'

[rigthegames.livejournal.com]

“Well hey there, sweetcheeks.”

There is a Sands sliding into the chair opposite Ramon, pale but grinning.

The grin, admittedly, could mean anything.

[latino_menace]

Ooooh, look how fast the relaxation falls off Ramon's face. World record!

But then the relaxation is back, although admittedly, it's fake this time.

'Evening Sands.'

The grin is ignored. And not returned, even with a fake one.

[rigthegames.livejournal.com]

For a second Sands looks mildly amused; fake relaxation is, after all, almost as fun as annoyance. Then he slides his sunglasses down his nose to regard Ramon solemnly.

“Not a good one?”

[latino_menace]

'It was.'

Said drily. Of course.

'Did you want something?'

[rigthegames.livejournal.com]

“Nope. Just here for the friendly banter.”

This is, apparently, too much for him. He snorts with laughter, shaking his head, and pulls a card (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/12054995.html?thread=500324051#t500324051) from his back pocket.

“What’s this?”

[latino_menace]

Ramon's about to comment about friendly banter and where he can shove it, and then he sees the card. All pretence at relaxation drops away and his face immediately resembles something that could turn milk sour at twenty paces.

'Where the fuck did you get that?'

[rigthegames.livejournal.com]

The grin fades and twists into something a lot more satisfied and a lot less pleasant.

“Random gave it to me.”

…Ramon doesn’t need to know the bit where Sands was smacked in the face in the process.

[latino_menace]

'...why?'

He's not happy about this. At all. Even less so that Random didn't tell him about it, but he'll take that up with him.