milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

dworkin,
raziel

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Raziel was outback of the bar watching the lake. Of course this was nothing compaired to what was going on inside his head.

He was thinking about Bill, and a few of the other mortals he had met here. He was even thinking about the child soul he had seen a while back. Why didn't he hate them. That was his purpose.

If he could come here, couldn't the bar bring, Vorador, or Kain, or all the gods forbid The Elder God. How would the Elder God fit in the Bar. I guess he would have to hang out in the lake. That would suck. Big, ugly, squid thing bugging him here. That was just too much.

He was watching the ripples on the lake and just thinking. The sun was warm on his skinless body and he would have felt drowsy, if it were possible. Raziel closed his eyes and drifted for a bit the closest to sleep he could ever get.

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The old man is out walking again.

And he sees the blue ripped dead thing and laughs.

What a twisted creature.

Raziel opens one glowing eye, he has killed for less than that.

"Can I help you?" he asked rather annoyed. He wasn't wearing his usual face covering, it was balled up behind his head, and his jaw less face was bare.

"I highly doubt it. Look at you, standing here moping."

A snort of laughter and he continues his shuffling walk.

Raziel made a face of what, well as best he could.

"I wasn't moping," he said, and laughed a dry husky laugh," and I am not standing, I am lying here thinking."

Raziel had propped himself up on one skinless elbow, the dirt digging into his muscle and bone.

"It amounts," says Dworkin regally, "to the same thing."

Raziel was nearly annoyed.

"No," he said, "No it doesn't. I was thinking about how strange it is that i care about other things that aren't my clan. Well, that and what would happen if bar decided to bring the Elder God here. That would be weird."

Raziel wasn't smiling now.

"Anyone who has enough time to sit about contemplating how strange their inner processes are is obviously not nearly busy enough."

He rolls his eyes, and pauses, leaning on his staff.

"Get a hobby. Get a girlfriend."

"I have a hobby," said Raziel," I am an eater of souls."

He studied the other's face.

He did have a hobby killing demon bunnies.

"Go do that."

He gestures again.

"Eating isn't a healthy hobby, but if you have the metabolism for it, what ho."

Not an ounce of fear.

"I don't need to kill anymore bunnies thanks," said a rather weirded out Raziel," What i want is a human soul, but Bar won't let me."

Besides the sun felt good, strange for a vampire this was strange.

Hey why didn't this old guy ask him how he was able to talk?

Raziel laughed at the thought. The dry, mirthless laugh of the living dead, and he was the living dead of the living dead.

"Then do that. Unless, you're kept here?"

He shakes his head.

"Who would think that a slab of wood would have a sense of humour."

Raziel was confused now.

"A slab of wood?" he asked.

What was this guy talking about.

"The bar. You've seen that, haven't you?"

It's kind of hard to miss.

"Oh," said Raziel," yes i have seen bar. She does have a since of humor too."

Raziel pulled out the perpetual damp wash cloth bar had given him a while back, the one with the zombie penguins.

"She gave me this," he said, " All i had asked fro was a cool cloth for my head."

"How charming," says Dworkin drily.

"I hope you thanked her, young man."

Raziel laughed. Oh gods he wasn't young.

"I did," he said, "I am not THAT young."

Raziel stood up and wrapped his old clan colors-now faded to brown and white- around his face.

"The things i have seen," he shook his head," The Vengeance."

No breath came from this body.

"Vengeance is the last effort of a sore loser."

He has no patience for it.

"Very sore," he said, "I've had my wings ripped of for NO reason, and been executed, again NO reason."

Raziel was indignant. 15,000 years hadn't been kind to him.

"Get used to it. There is no upswing. Trust me, I've lived long enough to know."

Not in 15,000. Not in 30,000. Not in 150,000.

Still 15000+ is old.

"My world is dying," said Raz flatly,"And I am the only one who is not bound by fate, according to my sire."

He somehow was interested in how this man saw him.

That depends on where you're looking at it from, doesn't it?

"Everyone is bound by fate. She's the bitch that spins the wheel. All the little rats scuttle round it."

Nice lady.

Raziel found himself laughing at this.

"I still have to restore balance to my world by killing my sire," he said still amused at The Wheel of Fate being spun by a Bitch, "I will have to tell the Elder God that the next time he bothers me."

Raziel was beginning to like this guy.

"You're the balance restorer. Tie off the pattern."

He shrugs. There always needs to be one.

"Kain is the Balance guardian," said Raziel," said Raziel, "He is just to selfish not to do it. He must die for the new guardians to be born and Nosgoth to be restored."

Raziel didn't care if it didn't make since.

"Death occasionally does people good. They can improve with it."

Dworkin is not one of them, obviously.

"Sometimes they can," agreed Raziel having been dead twice, "But sometimes, Death only makes them more arrogant. Case and point Kain, I almost killed him once. Next time I see him though I am gonna kill him."

Raziel narrowed his burning eyes. Of course killing Kain was harder than it looked. Didn't Kain save you from being trapped in the Soul Reaver once, he asked himself.

"Not lolling about here, you're not going to."

Dworkin rolls his eyes.

"I can't leave yet," said Raziel, "The Bar keeps me here from time to time. It's a nice break."

Raziel was right, the bar- who he had come to view as a big sister with a wicked since of humor- would keep him here for spurts and then let him continue.

"I'm actually completely uninterested."

He shuffles in the direction of the water.

"However. The sky is bleeding today."

"Time does that doesn't it," observed Raziel.

He looked to the sky where the man indicated.

"What does that mean," he asked thinking of blood.

"Look."

He gestures at the lake, walks out towards it and steps onto it. He walks across the water.

He watches the old man. The human can walk on water, go figure.

Raziel watched him in silence.

Some human.

This 'human' has simply, it seems, faded out of being as he steps off through Shadow.

Dworkin is simply gone.

Raziel shrugs and goes back to contemplating the water and clouds. His soul was in there too.

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