milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOM: In which an owl-man and a tiger make good use of an obscenely comfortable bed. As well as have a serious discussion. (No warnings.)]

The door opens, much like many other doors have opened in the last several months. Skellig is holding a reusable grocery bag in his hand, which is filled with a loaf of artisan bread (black bread, of course) and tangerines, among a variety of other small items.

And then he stops, grabbing hold of the knob before it can close. He takes a wary half-step back across the threshold, unsure of things.

(His defenses are flaring and sending out alarm bells and sirens to those sensitive enough to 'hear' them.)

Without hesitation, he steps back entirely into the doorway, calling behind him in Russian (he's gotten better, with the lessons she's given him) to an unseen person.

"Katya, come to the kitchen--"

He's not sure if this is real or a trick, but he's not stepping through alone.

[tag one or both, both muns (and soon both pups) will be here for awhile.]

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William looks up at the Russian though he doesn't know the man who's come through.

Horus is exploring and comes to stay by his ankles as he walks over, these aren't smells he knows, "Katya?"

He's been doing his best not to think too much about her because if he does it hurts and feels familiar from when his father was off fighting. She's Katya, he has to believe she's safe.

"Skellig, I do not..." She peers around his shoulder, trying to get a look at what he might be staring at.

...

And a few minutes later she's ahead of Skellig, poking William in the nose.

"Looks real."

Skellig kneels and extends a hand to the cat. It may not approach him, though it depends on how brave the little cat is...

"And it is not on fire."

Horus meows again, his fur standing up as he takes a careful step forward as William blinks at Katya,

"Yeah, I'm real. You look different."

"Nyet" She scrunches her nose at William, "It was falling into the end. Skellig?"

"I do not think it is possible. Everything fell down," he says.

And it has been many months - nearly a year - since the doors played nice. The bar was lost to them, and her Moscow to her as well.

"But it got put back together. I wasn't here, I ended up somewhere else, but its been months since that happened. I'm real,"

He digs in his shirt, which makes his elbow hurt as he pulls out the charm she made for him, "See, this is yours."

It hurts how she's not believing, he's missed her.

There's a smirk, the cheerfully sharp edges of a fighter evident.

"There were lobsters." Evil lobsters. She has not yet forgotten.

"They were singing," he adds.

The cat has nearly climbed into his lap, at this point, which is amusing Skellig to no end.

(It's likely the caviar they had for breakfast.)

Horus is a friendly cat and used to Milliways' patrons. William's doesn't know what to say or do so finally manages,

"They're gone. I could see the scars of battle when I came back but things are better."

"..." She's thoughtfully moved away from Skellig, not wanting to spook the cat.

He's still so uncautious around claws.

"This is why there are watches, no? So there can be no ridiculous stunts." And she is, obviously, the one to talk.

"It certainly helps, watches."

He is sending out ripples through the bar, trying to find the cracks in the illusion.

He might as well not be there for the way they're talking and William hates it. She doesn't even look like she should but she sounds like herself. Magic is dangerous and confusing and what Katya knows but he's real.

After a moment of thought, he pulls off his jacket and pushes up his sleeve to his hurt elbow, Horus has made some new scratches around it and holds it towards her, "Katya, you know me and blood's somethin' that's real. Test me."

There is a flash of something very close to outrage in her expression.

And now there's a tiger bulling into the boy, and unlike before, her teeth are not carefully kept away, and her paws are not velveted. She knows she's grumbled annoyance at her William for being so free with something that could harm him. If anything, that display is shoving this place more firmly into the 'unreal' category for her, and she's done letting this creature that is trying to take the place of her silly boy talk.

"Do not eat the human," he orders in her native tongue, moving swiftly to catch her attention and draw it away from that of the boy.

(He may be a fool for offering up blood like that in the presence of hunters like them, but he is human, Skellig can tell that much - and if this is the real bar, there is a rule against eating patrons.)

Showing her the charm she made him didn't work and he's feeling desperate as blood's dangerous because its so real.

He doesn't want to lose her and when she's a tiger, he freezes and watches her.

Edited 2012-05-14 04:47 (UTC)

She freezes, her claws dug into the heavy wood boards.

And evidently can't decide which one she needs to glare at more, William or Skellig.

She settles for shoving William into boards a little bit harder before moving to thump solidly into Skellig's legs.

His fingers sink into the fur at the ruff of her neck, curling into the mane (it is a gentle touch, despite how firm of a grip he keeps from falling over) to steady his stance.

"He is a human," Skellig repeats. "Foolish, yes, and I do not know him, but he seems to know you. Perhaps there is a better way to test him than putting him on our breakfast toast?"

When she thumps him into the boards, he stays still as Horus hisses from under the chair Skellig had been on. Once its clear that the tiger isn't going to hurt his human, he pads over to guard William, his fur on end.

It was a stupid idea to show her his wound but he didn't know what else to do and she doesn't believe him.

He doesn't want to cry, but she's Katya, she makes sense of the magic he doesn't understand and fixes things.

Edited 2012-05-14 05:16 (UTC)

She slinks around him ending up tangling her fingers with his at the collar of her coat.

"Cannot be. The doors do not lead here." But she sounds less certain, more rattled.

It could be the blood. She could undo worlds with that blood.

"I am not making cockroaches again..." She calls back.

And then there's a thump from the other room (that particular statue will never be the same again).

"Skellig..." Okay, so actually, that's impressive. And it doesn't have an inordinate number of legs.

"Once a week is enough for the cockroaches," he promises.

And then looks from her, to the bar, then back to her.

"Yes?"

"...." Carefully she slips under his arm to peer at this...

"... What is this?"

"It is not the pantry," he says. "I only wished to put away the bread and the fruit."

His hand comes to rest on her shoulder.

"It looks like...like Milliways."

But that is impossible, because after the worlds ended, the bar was destroyed.

"Da." She agrees, but she doesn't shift from her defensive stance. "So what is it?" Because it can't be. It really can't be.

If it's anything like what they found down in the iron foundry, she's so over this.

"If it is a...mirror...an image, it is good. I cannot detect any light around the seams."

But there are talented mages and witches in the world, who can create many mirages for those looking.

She grumbles, her newly acquired glittery earrings sparkling in the bar's light.

"And I suppose it is my turn to tangle with it?"

"You will not be alone," he tells her. He has not left her alone yet in this relearning of how the world works, and he doesn't intend to start now.

"Just let me put away the tangerines..."

In case they need to behead some demon creature, it will be easier to do without tangerines in tow.

She nods, but holds out a hand anyway.

"Maybe not all of them?" Someone was waiting for that black bread to have lunch.

"Not all of them," he says, stepping back into the flat briefly to put away the groceries.

He returns with a few tangerines tucked into the pockets of his coat.

When he returns, she's already edged a little closer to the door.

It looks real. Feels real.

She's already done her grieving and come to accept her new life with Skellig. She was getting used to a partnership again. She's just not okay with this.

"The cracks are very smooth," he says, reaching for her hand. "But the door will stay, if we would go to check the edges."

(They will not be Bound here, not this time.)

She links her fingers with his, her hand tight. She cannot afford to lose track of him.

Never mind she's gotten quite good at sharing power over the months.

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