milliways_bar | (no subject)

Well, that really wasn't fun. Rae supposes she couldn't truly expect the weather to hold off for a little thing like her fighting for her life, but it would've been nice if it had been a little more considerate, you know? Con had been impervious to the icy rain - of course he had - but Rae's experience had been a little more... well, human. Her fingers, slicked with blood and exposed to the elements, had soon gone numb and clumsy. It hadn't been an easy night. When they had returned to her apartment, her only thoughts were of the hot shower she was about to have. The three hot showers she wanted to take in succession, and the long, soaking bath she wanted directly after, and the twelve hours or more of sleep she wanted after that. So what if that would put her waking up around sunset tomorrow.

But the door to her bathroom, of course, has other ideas.

Rae shuffles into the bar today, exhausted, soaking wet, and shivering. Her black sweater and sweatpants cling to her, sodden and still dripping as the ice melts. There is ice in her hair from the sleet that had gotten caught in it, and she smells of cold sweat and blood. The melting ice and rain may have washed much of the blood from her, but some of it remains, and the scrapes and minor injuries that show where her sweater has been torn still bleed sluggishly.

"Unnnnnngh," Rae makes an exhausted noise of complaint in her throat as she sees where she is. She hadn't been expecting Milliways. Now she has an entire set of stairs to climb before she can reach her shower. Why so cruel, universe?

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"...Always seems f-fast while it's going on," she murmurs into her tea. Too quick to react any way but instinctively. Rae blinks at the question, then her look clears into a faint smile. "Oh, yes. Thank you, Dr. Lecter."

The towel she has wrapped around her has picked up stains of blood and grime from her sleeves and hands, soaking into the absorbent fabric. Her own injuries are minor and have already stopped bleeding.

"But then, it's hard to t-tell what real impact all our efforts are having. There's an election coming up, and the governor has been campaigning on the significant decline in Other-on-human violence during his term," Rae says with an exhausted smile, faint but real. "No way to tell that's... because the younger vampires are listening to us, and choosing a different path, or because there are fewer vampires in the area, total."

"He is cashing in on your work," Hannibal says. "I hope you at least support his policies?"

He takes a towel to catch the melting snow and pat it off her hair, another to wrap around her head, and yet another one to replace the one first gave her, while she has the chance to cling to the tea throughout.

"He's a politician," Rae replies, smiling faintly into her tea. The feeling of someone drying her hair and wrapping it up is soothing. "Of course he's taking credit. You should hear some of the local SOFs talk about him. But he's been good at approving the increases in their operating budget each year, so they don't talk too loudly."

Rae is not interested in either politics or taking credit for her work.

Dr. Lecter keeps fussing over her, making sure the towels warm her well.

"As long as that budget increases, and some of it makes its way back to the coffee house for cinnamon rolls, all win," he says.

"Trickle-down economics, right?" she says with a faintly wry smile, bundling in the warm towel.

"And if things continue to get better for SOF, they... they might not be so thinly spread and ill-prepared. And... well, I hope not to have to do this volunteer evening gig forever."

"Especially if the vampires start seeing reason," Dr. Lecter says. "Trickle-down economy indeed. Which depends on people spending their wealth rather than investing it into moronic schemes, but in your world, there seems to be no reason for that. Who needs Wall Street if there are actual vampires?"

The mention of Wall Street gets a mild grimace. "Well, there isn't much wealth anywhere, anymore. Except among those in the World Council and those higher-ups near them. And the old magic-handling families."

"Who determines membership in the World Council?" Dr. Lecter asks.

"They are chosen from among the representatives of each nation."

"We have something like that called the United Nations, but it has no real power," Hannibal says.

There's a breath of a chuckle, as her eyebrows rise. "Then... what's it's purpose, if it doesn't govern?"

"To mediate, and to organise," Dr. Lecter says. "And to keep the peace. Which never works."

"Individual nations fighting?" Rae says, as someone for whom that is always something that happens in other worlds.

"If it never works, maybe they should be given some power? Not just to mediate and organize, but actually make decisions, too?"

"You should come and put my world to right," Dr. Lecter says. "But really -- there are as many particular interests in my world as there are vampires in yours. A common problem unites people."

"That's one of the fundamental things about humanity," Rae says, smiling slightly. "We're very good at pulling together and orienting ourselves against an external threat. 'Us versus them.'"

"Or, more aptly, 'human versus Other,'" she adds with a faint sigh.

"Instead, in my world, it's human versus human, or 'dog eat dog', as they like to put it," Dr. Lecter says.

Rae makes a slight face, shaking her head. "Sounds barbaric. That's not how it should be."

"That is what people from my world might say about vampires," Hannibal says. "Worlds aren't the way they should be. I don't think there is a single one that is."

She'll agree on that point.

"It took me over a year of coming here to begin getting over the bitterness at the thought that worlds where people treat each other so poorly would be so much better off than my world, where we all know we're in this together."

"It is the rudeness of the privileged, those who have never learned to appreciate what little they have," Dr. Lecter says, gravely.

"They're very... fortunate," Rae murmurs, worn out. "I wouldn't wish my world's situation on anybody."

Hannibal nods.

"Drink your tea, and then it might be time for that long hot shower," he says. "I'm going to make you some soup for when you're done with that? How does cauliflower curry soup sound?"

Rae offers an exhausted smile. "That sounds delicious, Dr. Lecter."

"Thank you for the offer, but my bed is calling my name. It's past three in the morning, my time, and I've been up since four. I wouldn't want to put you through all that trouble, and then fall asleep at the table."

"Then I'll make you breakfast when you re-emerge," Dr. Lecter offers.

"Deal," she nods, smiling drowsily. "Thank you."

Rae finishes her tea, taking a deep breath to try and center herself, to focus. "I should head on upstairs. Thank you again, Dr. Lecter. For everything." The tea, the towels, support and conversation, and the offer of food. She appreciates it very much.

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