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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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."

Well, he wasn't trying to say anything with that comment. Just stating a fact.

He raises an eyebrow in return, however, and shrugs. "Can you blame them?"

"Yes."

Dryly.

Eiri frowns.

"Thanks." Actually he is a little insulted.

Maybe he'll drown it in the rest of his beer then go sulk.

Fire preens.

She lives to be a bitch, honestly.

"You're welcome."

Not usually bothered by anything, he tells himself it's because she's not human, but he's met so few people who'd actually criticize him to his face. So few that weren't family, competition, or scorned lovers, that is.

He stares off in another direction, drinking his beer, more slowly than usual, and considering. He may also be ignoring her.

Hah.

Fire wins!

And so settles back to hum to herself and sip the coffee.

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