milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: enraged

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Jack storms into the bar. He is full of rage.

Yes, that is rage you see on his face, not constipation or a really bad sunburn. RAGE.

Have at. :)

[ ooc: el warning: mun's body is slowly dragging her towards the happy land of sleep. which means she will dissappear within the next...ten minutes or so. or maybe later than that. but soon! ]

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Well yes, of course. Large, vast amounts of rage. Frightening and vengeful even.

She uncurls herself and makes her way over - waving, she figures, is enough permission to allow close-range worrying.

This would be the talking part now Lethe. Good plan - something insightful, perhaps.

"A-are you alright?"

Or maybe not.

"Not really," in a slight sing-song voice.

Her fingers thread for a moment - pulling and then twisting apart - something shiny twirling idly between them. Nervous habits, she has many.

"Well, yes obviously," she tilts her head slightly at the tone, one eyebrow arcing curiously. "What has you so angry?"

"Vikki--my ex--sit down." He lifts a hand and waves it to a nearby table.

And so she sits - obediently and without hesitation - legs tucked under her and hands folded neatly. The bit of glitter, now unoccupied, twirling onto the tabletop.

Jack hesitates when he sees the glitter, but that's a matter between himself and Mary Anne Bell. He sits.

"She moved in next to me."

No need to worry, Lethe's glittery things are all nice and solid and gemstoney. Not really prone to sudden, violent attacks.

The phrase, however, takes a short moment of contemplation. Nymphs, as a general populous, do not really move. Rivers and oceans and trees are usually rather difficult to relocate.

But she's read - and heard stories! Houses and such things are simple to move into and out of.

A blink, "On purpose?"

"I think so."

"Oh, well that is not very nice at all."

A displeased huff of air and she crosses her arms, eyes narrowing protectively. She isn't particularly fond of people who do things to make people that she likes upset.

"Victoria is not a very nice person."

"Then - you -" her voice is quiet, thoughtful.

Lethe's really got a whole lot of nothing - she's not very good with the whole vengeance deal. A moment of hesitation and she reappears next to him - arms around softly, carefully.

Hugs generally make people feel better, yes?

Aww.

Yes. Jack's a little surprised, but a hug is a hug, and he closes his eyes and lifts his hands to wrap around her arms as he smiles slightly.

"Thanks."

"You are most welcome," she beams faintly, head ducking and cheeks flushing brightly.

"Some people are rather selfish," a low murmur. "They do not think about others at all - and that is not terribly fair."

His small smile turns sad. "I know."

He should've known with Vikki, but that was his problem: he saw that she needed to be saved from being a mean person. Like he saw that any of his loves needed to be saved.

Most people need to be saved - it's just a matter of whether or not they let themselves.

"They do not realize when they have good things," the words come soothing and lethargic - slow and simple things. "Important and wonderful things. It is not your fault."

"Hmm."

A little thing. A little, cynical thing.

Not always, just lately.

It's all a matter of waiting, and whether or not giving up everything is worth it - when the one you love may never remember, and the girl he did it for hates you.

"Hope," the word is whispered, near silent and tentative - as if just speaking it might make it untrue. "I would like to think that maybe there is hope."

"I liked to think that too," he says quietly. Liked, in past tense--like loved, in past tense.

Blue eyes rise and then quickly fall - she has to believe in it, because it's all that she has left to keep her together.

She doesn't speak, just leans a bit closer, arms brushing lightly - comfort, perhaps, through closeness.

Not always alone.

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