milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There's an Endless in the bar.
It's shocking.
Desire. In the bar. Who would have guessed?
... Well. Perhaps anyone even vaguely familiar with this particular Endless, but that's neither here nor there.

Desire seems to be without intent this evening, just staying at the usual table, smoking the usual cigarette, and a simple glass of champagne in hand.

An undirected Desire is a bored Desire.
Bad news for anyone who wasn't looking to become Desire's evening entertainment...

[OOC: I've had to slowtime because I'm out of practice -- I'll get back to this!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

*Considering Meg's current position is technically that of Desire's permanent entertainment, she doesn't feel at much particular risk.*

Salut, Papi!

Desire smirks at his daughter over the champagne flute's rim.
If she gives the bottle at hand a close look, it will be a familiar vintage ... but that's only should Meg have the attention for it. Quelle dommage.

"Bon soir, petite. Ça va?"

*Meg is still not exactly known for her powers of observation - though after all this time, you'd think she'd have learned better.*

Ca va bien, *she says, cheerfully enough.* Et toi? Je ne t'ai pas vu beaucoup -

"Non?" Desire's eyebrows move together in a troubled expression. "Mais j'ai t'observé, heir soir -- Dans la studio, quand tu as dansé. .. Something on your mind, petite?"

- oh!

*Meg looks slightly embarrassed - as well as more than a little startled.* Tu m'as observe? - j'oublie que tu peux etre la quand je ne te voie pas. Je toujours pense que tu as les choses . . . plus importants a faire.

*She waves a sheepish, vague hand in the air.*

I don't - nothing in particular. Just a trip or two I've agreed to go on, that's all, but I expect you know about that -

"Tch. As if anything were more important than la petite -- You wound me."

One pale hand falls melodramatically over Desire's heart -- but one dark eyebrow quirks at the mention of Meg leaving. "Ah, oui? -- Non, petite. I'm afraid I've been left out of that little family discussion. Un voyage? Avec qui?"

Oh - not family.

*Meg's response is quick; she's well aware that there have to be certain - touchy subjects involving certain members of a certain Family, right now.*

Just, well, Lucifer asked for my help on a quest-type thing, so I'm going with him at some point is one of them . . .

Oh, Meg.
Wrong, wrong thing to say.

... At least, if the sudden stiffening of her papi's expression is anything to say.

"-- Really."

- oui, *Meg says, a little warily, and she's not nearly oblivious enough to miss that.*

Just a short trip, I mean, it shouldn't take long. And it's for a good cause. Pourquoi?

Desire considers bringing out the guns of I'm your father and I say no -- But then, that may have lost weight with the fact that Meg is grown and dead.
...This is not killing off the papi says no argument, actually.

Desire gives Meg a narrow look. "Non."

. . . non quoi?

*He(sheit, but Meg is sort of trapped in 'daughter' mode at the moment) can't mean what it sounds like he means, can he?*

Oh, yes he does.

"Non, petite. ... I do not approve of some of the company ton cher ami keeps."

*Desire. Disapproving of someone?

This is . . . new, and more than a little unnerving.*

. . . I'm some of the company he keeps, *Meg feels obliged to point out.* And I know lots of the others, and it's not as if I've ever been, tu sais, respectable, so . . . pardon-moi if I'm a little confused?

Er - who is it that you don't approve of?

Demons. They're really a tricky lot, and Desire can't forget what they almost did to Dream when he first escaped his near-century of imprisonment on Earth.

Desire doesn't forget that there are rules, and rules within the rules when it comes to them -- so if Desire's a little frightened at the thought of Meg slipping up...

... Desire covers it up in anger and disapproval.

"Ne demandes plus, petite. Tu n'vas pas avec lui."

*Meg's back straightens, a little.*

J'ai deja dite que je serai, *she points out, as reasonably as she can, though her heart is beating a little loudly. She's never exactly defied her father before - and especially not after going to live with him. (Derry situations don't count.)

Then again, he's never exactly forbidden her to do something, either.* J'ai promets.

I can't break a promise without an awfully good reason.

"Veux-tu savoir pourquoi?" Desire is on his feet, standing before and nearly towering over his daughter: He takes her by the shoulders, and the tension in his too-warm hands speak of wanting to shake her.

"Je ne veux pas te perdre," Desire hisses, eyes blazing.

*Meg's eyes widen in shock, pale and blue as she stares up at her father - far, far up, a great distance and in more ways than one.*

Je - *she begins, and then tries again, voice pitched as reassuringly as she can.*

Tu ne me perdre pas - je le promets! Tu ne peux pas -

*She fumbles around her neck for the necklace that brings her back to the Threshold; holds it up like a Talisman.*

Je toujours rentre. Toujours. C'est pour cela que j'ai celui-ci -

"Mais il y a règlements, petite." Desire does give her a small shake now, the anger in her papi's tone giving way to something more pleading. "Toujours règlements quand ils ont affaire avec son sorte. Say the wrong thing, or let one trick that necklace away, and there is nothing I can do to save you. Comprends-toi?"

Je comprends, bien sur - je ne suis pas si bete.

*Meg's hand tightens around the pendant.*

I don't take it off. I don't ever take it off - not for any reason. Someone would have to, to knock me out to get it off, and that's not going to happen, bien?

Like that, Desire lets Meg go, hands falling loosely to his sides.

"J'ai peur, petite."

Pourqoi?

*Meg's voice is quiet.*

Pourquoi maintenant?

"Pourquoi pas?"

Desire fumbles with a fresh cigarette for a moment, and then turns a melancholy, thoughtful look on Meg.

"You've never wanted to leave, before."

- but I've been on all kinds of trips!

*This is, perhaps, not the wisest thing to say, but Meg is too startled again to think of anything else.*

To New York, and to Phantasmoraniagoria to see Amy's baby, and - all of them short. Just visits.

That's not - not wanting to leave, not really.

There is the point that Desire could have followed her any of the other places, should her papi have chosen... But others' realms are trickier things.

Desire has no response for Meg: Not verbally.

Instead, Meg is pulled into a warm and disconcertingly demonstrative hug.

"Pourquoi me fais-tu toujours cela, petite?"

*It is disconcerting - to Meg, especially, who has never been accustomed to parental demonstrativeness of any sort - but she hugs him back, tightly.*

Je serai prudent, *she repeats. It's really all she can think of to say.*

Je le promets.