milliways_bar | (no subject)

She laughs. Something about this story is just... hilarious, really.

"That... heh. I don't know what to say to that, really, but... my question was more, how you could die seven or eight times and still consider yourself alive..."

"Immortality," he answers as though it's the same as answering that one puts sugar or milk into one's coffee in the morning to take the bitterness away.

She considers this for a moment.

"But... if you're immortal... how is it you're dying in the first place? I mean, sure, a mortal wound, getting stabbed in the heart or something that would kill someone... but do you actually die?"

He laughs - hers is a common question.

"For a moment or so, yeah. What seems to happen is that the mortal body does it's dying thing, then, once it's all healed, revives. Or so we've sort of figured."

She smiles a little. "That's... I dunno. Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head - but his heart's not in it - really.

"No, it tickles. Of course it hurts." He's smiling - he's answered that one before too.

"Sometimes it hurts a lot. Broken bones are almost worse than bullet wounds."

She leans back, and manages to keep a smile, although it's not a particularly happy one.

"Don't know if it sounds like it's worth the tradeoff, that."

He shrugs.

"I try not to die any more than I have to. But, it is nice to know that if something happens, like, I fall off a building or get into a car accident, that I'll be okay sometime afterward."

He wrinkles his nose a bit.

"By the way, word of advice, don't fall off a building. Hurts like hell," he adds with a grin.

"I'll... make sure to keep that in mind, I guess..."

She manages to grin back at him eventually.

"How on earth did we manage to get to such a morbid subject, anyway? Let's get back to something lighthearted?"

He shrugs and grins.

"Okay, so, what should we change the subject to?"

"Heck, I dunno... tea or coffee? Have we covered that one yet?"

Her greygreen eyes are dancing with laughter.

It's a bit of a change, really.

He laughs.

"Not yet, but if we're going to discuss beverages, I suggest Scotch vs. Tequilla."

She smirks a little.

"Is that an offer, or a challenge?"

"Perhaps a bit of both," he replies with a wry grin.

"Are you buying, then? Or is Nick?" She blithely ignores the fact that this conversation has been going on since long before Nick made his offer to put everything on his tab for the night, and grins at him.

"Well, what's a holiday if we don't put it on Nick's tab? He won't mind."

(( and who's to say they haven't been sitting here talking long enough to *hear* Nick's offer? *g* ))

She chuckles.

"Okay, so, it's scotch or tequila, then? Which'll you be wanting first?"

"Depends on the Scotch. Because one never mixes the excellent Scotch with the tequilla. At least, this one doesn't." He offers a smile.

"Start with the tequilla."

She grins. Got it.

"All right, then. Any preferences on brand, if we get to pick?"

"Tequilla? Nah."

"Okay. Now to the important question - are you ordering, or am I?"

"We'll split the difference. You order the tequilla, I'll order the Scotch - when we get there."

Notice - 'when', not 'if'... he's optimistic, if nothing else.

[ooc: mun is heading off to sleep in a bit, but they can drink all through tomorrow while I'm at work... ;) b/c I'm bad and play online some there too.]

"Fair enough."

She grins again, and levers herself out of the booth, catching a waitrat and coming back after a few minutes with a rather large bottle of tequila, and two glasses that are distinctly not shot glasses.

"This good?"

[ooc: 's fine. *grins*]

His eyes brighten at the size of the glasses.

"Woman after my own heart," and he places both hands over his before sitting up in the chair.

"Much better than shot glasses."

[ooc: and that's the last post from the mun for tonight - ;)]

"Well, this way we don't have to take turns with the bottle, and shot glasses are for wusses really."

She smirks, and pours.