milliways_bar | (no subject)

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"Oooh, the weather outside is frightful . . ."

Epimetheus shakes snow out of his hair as he comes through the door and heads for the bar. (Sorry if he catches you with a few flakes.)

"But ba dum dah dum delightful . . . Bar, darlin', Irish coffee if you please, extra whipped cream."

She supplies; he settles onto a stool, still humming, and takes a contented sip.

[tinytag: kali]

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"No, of the O'Connell's. You'd be amazed how often I get that, though."

Things that are transparent: Epimetheus' lies.

Good recovery, though!

"Is that why you keep breaking out that homily about all the drinks you spill, upside down in a barrel after you die, and so on?"

"Nnyes, duh, good auld Irish lore, och aye."

A beat.

"'Och aye' is Scots."

She's grinning, though.

"Meh," Coyote says. "Europe."

"Sure and begorrah?"

By this time Kali's just shaking her head and suppressing laughter.

"Please, stop. Let It Snow was slightly better, if not not any more culturally sensitive."

"How is 'Let It Snow' culturally insensitive? It's a joyful song about meteorology! It doesn't even have the word Christmas in it!"

"No one sings it after December 26th, nor do they play it on the radio," Coyote shoots back. "Ask anyone, it is a Christmas song."

A pause.

"I do not like Jingle Bells either."

"This is exactly why I try to stay out of human habitations at that time of year." She sniffs. "At least it's past now."

"What a couple of Grinches."

Epimetheus sounds more saddened by the state of their cold, shrivelled hearts than anything.

"Just because Christmas has also become a secular holiday in the Americas does not mean I have to like it."

Don't expect her heart to be growing three sizes any time soon. Unless a lot of mind altering drugs are involved.

"Secular holiday." Her mouth twists. "There's a contradiction in terms."

"April Fools' Day," Coyote says, grinning.

"What are we even arguing about anymore?" Epimetheus wonders. "You" -- pointing at Coyote -- "are you pro-Christmas or anti-Christmas? Do you hate America? And you!" He points at Kali.

". . . Who are you anyway?" He cuts a glance at Coyote. "Do I need to be polite?"

"Why start now?" Coyote says. "And she's Kali. The Black One. With the arms? And the demon heads?"

Is this ringing any bells, man?

She ignores all Christmas questions pointed in her direction.

"That's right."

Kali sips her drink, unperturbed.

"Christmas isn't a feature of my religion, generally speaking."

"Oh."

He gives Kali a considering look.

"Lovely to meet you. I hear you're good with a sword."

Coyote gently rests her head in her hands. It was nice knowing you, Epimetheus.

She nods, with a small smile, and lifts her glass in acknowledgment.

"Or trident," she agrees. "Or bare hands, if it seems necessary."

Threat? What threat? That wasn't a threat. Just a perfectly accurate statement.

Cheerfully: "Charming!"

Coyote gives Kali a weak smile, then yanks Epimetheus down to hiss in his ear. "If I buy you some eggnog, or some other disgustingly holiday themed drink, will you stop trying to get the goddess to smite you? I like you with all your limbs attached."

"Ow! What? I'm not trying anything!"

Honestly, he's not! Surely flirting isn't a smitable offense unless it's with, like, Artemis or Athena, right?

(A lesser man would take time to feel smug that she likes him with all his limbs attached.)

Artemis or Athena or some other warrior goddess, maybe?

"Nobody is going to smite anybody," Kali tells them, amused. "At least not in here. There's a truce in effect, they tell me."