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Greetings fleshlings. Your pathetic holiday celebrating the birth of a specific holy child is now over and you can spend the remaining 364 days [365 for leap years] going about your usual pathetic business that won't do squat when the time comes to announce that the world is doomed to shit and stuff.

Suffice to say that you all now have Unicron in your presence here in the bar [not outside], which should kill any leftover cheer your holiday might've given you.

Such a shame.

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From the second she notices him Lissar is trying to not project fear. The stampede of dogs away probably doesn't help.

Tooooo laaaaate...

YOU HAVE SUCH APPALLING LUCK TO KEEP HAPPENING UPON ME.

"I suppose all good must be balanced." Lissar agrees as steadily as possible. (Not that much, alas.)

He has an unusual grin to his face. They all figure out that there has to be evil in the universe for good to have any real meaning.

SO IT MUST. BUT WHAT BALANCES INNOCENCE?

NO idea where that came from.

"Knowledge." Lissar says, instantly.

KNOWLEDGE. AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW?

Here we are, back at the beginning with you!

What does she know? She's silent for a long moment while she thinks. "I know of broken trust, and fear. I know the raising of fleethounds, and the look in a man's eyes when he is turned from. I know nightmares. I know the smell of blood on snow. I know the feeling of spring wind in my hair. I know dirt beneath my nails, and growing things in the light. I know the touch of metal under my hands, and the leap of my heart at a rescue. I know the stink of men and the shivering feeling of flesh on flesh. I know the sound of a happy dog."

Whether that's what he was thinking of or not we're not going to know any time soon.

As it stands, some of those things can be exploited for personal purposes.

AND WHAT HAVE YOU GAINED FROM KNOWING ALL THESE THINGS?

Were he the sort he'd steeple his fingers together and give you the calculated look a business man would give you. That unnerving look too.

Edited 2007-12-28 05:56 (UTC)

"That," Lissar says quietly, "I do not know."

BUT YOU WOULD BE WILLING TO FIND OUT.

Statement. No question at all.

There are certain presences you don't have to look at to feel, even when you're as completely head-blind as Ray. (Surprisingly few of them have tentacles, despite the popular lore.) He's only ever been near one of them enough to recognize its particular brand of oogy, but that's plenty, really...

And feeling it as soon as he walks through the front door? Oh, cripes. This can't end well.

"Do I even want to know what's going on?" Ray asks. Cheerfully, brightly, and with the same level of utter social artlessness he displayed on the day he interrupted Peter Venkman's ESP "experiment" with the blonde and the guy. "I'm almost certain that I'm going to come out of this with a migraine the size of Minneapolis, but you can never really tell with these things..."

Lissar has never been so glad to see a human male in her life.

Really.

She has no idea who he is, but she wants his progeny to the ten thousandth generation blessed and venerated.

"This One speaks to me." Lissar explains.

Two for the price of one! Clearly this isn't as bad as it would seem!

THE YOUNG FEMALE'S PATH SEEMS TO HAVE INTERSECTED MINE, he says, and dammit it's true. Though one has to ask if that intersection is governed by the same curse that Ironhide has. THUS A CONVERSATION WAS STRUCK. BEGUN WITH AN OBSERVATION OF THE FACT SHE HAS A TENDENCY TO HAPPEN ACROSS ME AT TIMES OF LOW FORTUITIOUSNESS.

Not that he particularly minds, you understand.

"Here I find myself reminded of the old Yiddish joke about the Fuhrer and the fortuneteller," Ray says, "but my grandfather would have my guts for garters if I told it to two complete strangers and got it wrong, so I'll spare the both of you that particular attempt on my part to lighten the local mood. How has the conversation been faring, if I can be so bold as to make the inquiry? I'm absolutely awful at reading human body language, so I apologize heartily and sincerely in advance for my failure to deduce anything I should already know."

"I am utterly terrified and feel strongly that I am sufficiently in over my head that it might be simplest to flee, screaming, from the scene." Lissar explains.

Besides. He's already heard it. Yawn.

THAT IS A COMMON REACTION AMONGST THOSE WHO KNOW ME WELL, OR THOSE WHOSE INSTINCTS ARE DEVELOPED ENOUGH TO COME TO THAT CONCLUSION ANYWAYS.

The, uh, screaming and running away in terror part.

DO YOU PLAN TO ASSIST HER IN THIS VENTURE?

Please. Let's see Ray the Hero now.

"Plan is probably a little bit too strong of a word for it, all things considered," Ray says. "Intend? That's considerably closer to the truth and still allows for a significant amount of leeway and improvisation. I don't suppose asking nicely would do any good? It's not as if you won't have plenty of opportunities in the future, all of which are likely to be considerably more challenging. Because I'd seriously be willing to ask nicely and politely if I thought it had a snowball's chance in Sharra's forge of being well-received."

How clever. Yes. There will be. Yes. They will be. They might even involve unpleasantness in bold-caps for Ray too.

UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES NOT ONLY WOULD I OBJECT YOU WOULD NOT EVEN HAVE AN OPPORTUNITY TO ASK. WE ARE HOWEVER IN THIS PLACE, NOT ELSEWHERE. THOUGH IT PAINS ME TO ADMIT IT I CANNOT REALLY KEEP YOU FROM THAT SPECIFIC PLAN OF ACTION.

Those pains are positively agonising.

I WOULD RATHER IGNORE SUCH PLEAS FOR ETIQUETTE OUTRIGHT. TAKE HER THEN. THOUGH I WOULD WONDER IF YOU PLAN A RETURN WITHIN A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME.

"Given the possible alternatives, I think it incumbent upon me under the circumstances to return quickly, yes," Ray says. "Much appreciated."

Then he turns to the girl and says, very quietly, "My name's Ray Stantz. We should go. Now. I don't know where you need to go but wherever it is, we should get as close to there as possible. Okay?"

Lissar, very daringly, takes a bit of Ray's sleeve in her fingers and flees toward the elevator to the garage. If there is an Autobot around the chances that they come in through the garage are much higher than anywhere else.

When they're a distance away, "I am Lissla Lissar, and I thank you."

Ray nods. "You're welcome," he says. "I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do next, but I'm going to head back there now and do what I can to defuse that one's wrath a little further. In the future, if he talks to you, don't accept any offers of his even if they seem innocuous. And if he asks you 'what do you want'? Don't tell him. The amount of grief that would come from willingly and freely answering that question is immeasurable."

"You should go if you can. I'll try and contact you after all of this is done, if I can. Take care, miss."

Lissar nods, and disappears into the darkness of the garage.

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