milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

It seems one not-exactly-deity-or-personification has decided to come down to the main bar, tonight. It also seems, however, that she's been elsewhere - there's grey ash caught in her hair, and the normal scent of woodsmoke is surprisingly strong.

She's also not really taking pains to appear mortal. If you look closely, you might be able to see the reflection of flames in her eyes, or just under her skin.

But she won't burn you, dear, of course not.

Right?

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"Why does it matter?"

She's not in the best of moods. Fucking winter. Almost time to wander on up to Australia.

No, apparently she's not. Well, hmm...

Eiri blinks, taken aback, slightly. "Well, I don't suppose it does, in the scheme of things, but it interested me more than your name, I must admit."

she snaps.

Stupid humans, always getting in the way.

Eiri smiles blandly. Perhaps wisely, he avoids any jokes, for the moment.

"Is that a name, or a description?"

"You asked what I was, didn't you?"

Snaps her fingers at a waitrat, "Coffee."

"I did, but it could be a name for what you are, or it could be what you are." There is a difference, really.

Think of a large large hill, made up of dirt, stone, plants, all sorts of things. It's called a mountain, but it's not made of mountain.

"Both, then."

Fire flops down in a nearby armchair, and heaves a sigh.

Eiri nods. "And fire drinks coffee. Interesting."

He's rather confused, admittedly, and curious, but he's not really going to admit to all that.

He flicks the ash from his cigarette again, leaning back in his own chair. He can't be bothered to reach the ashtray at the moment. "You really do see everything here."

"Yeah. She does."

Fire nods, leaning her head back and picking ash from her shirt.

"That's what they say."

"Mmhm." He agrees sagely.

That must get old. Like dandruff, in a way.

Wryly, "what else do they say?"

"Don't play with fire, or you'll get burnt."

It's one of her favourite sayings.

For obvious reasons.

He smirks and eyes her intently. "They say that here, do they?" Then shrugging, he adds, "Yes, I guess they would, with you around."

"Don't imagine setting people on fire makes you too popular in most circles."

"Mmm."

She laughs, soft and arrogant.

"What can they ever do to me? I don't need 'popularity'."

"No, I don't suppose they can lock you our of their homes, or spurn you," he admits.

"But still, everyone likes to be liked." His tone may be a little facetious.

"Respected," she says.

Both eyebrows raise at the latter, and he hesitates before taking another drag from his cigarette.

"Yes, yes of course. I thought that came with the territory."

"Usually, it does. There are some are the exception."

Fire likes to take care of those.

Yuki nods, a lump in his throat. He's not really talked to anyone who's so clearly more than human. It's a little unnerving.

It makes perfect sense, of course.

"Well, I've always had a healthy respect for things that can burn me. perhaps not fear, but--" He eyes the cigarette in his hand warily.

"Yeah? Very good."

She eyes the cigarette as well.

And grins.

Finding an excuse, he sets it in the ashtray, leaning forward now, to reach it and flag down a waitrat.

He orders another beer and wonders if he'd have been better off minding his own business. Hind-sight is 20/20.

"Sorry to have bothered you, then."

"Oh, that's alright."

A waitrat brings her the coffee, and she sips it, relaxing farther.

"Have you a name?"

He nods, watching the waitrat retreat toward the kitchen. "Name's Eiri Yuki." That's the name he's using now, anyway.

"It's almost nice not to be recognized," he muses.

"Should I know you?"

It's dry, almost sacastic.

"You? No, which I'm grateful for. Back home, however, they do.

Especially the females."

Fire eyes him, up and down.

"Mmm."