(no subject)

[the_cupbearer]

At a table in Milliways there is a young man with a single pomegranate, a small bowl of pistachio nuts, and a knife; he's skilled at skiving the calyx end off, digging the end of his birds-beak knife into the pale pith and scoring lines down each of the ridged sections. When he pops it open a few of the arils burst in his hands, staining his fingers with the juice. Out of boredom the thinnest slice of skin from the fruit is getting shaved off in a long peel, suitable for rolling up into a red rose.

As he eats, he lights a thin cigarette and practices blowing little smoke-rings with it as he rolls a few of the pale green nut kernels between his fingers. They make a reasonable small meal together, and the smoke is fragrant and calming. The nights are growing longer, the days ever shorter; they're almost at the solstice now.

Comments

[onceaviking]

Some long for the return of the sun.
Others revel in the dark.

A pale vampire sits down opposite Ganymede.

[the_cupbearer]

Pursing his lips and blowing out the smoke, Ganymede turns his head serenely to look at Erik, eyes opening slowly.

"Hello, north man," he all but purrs.

[onceaviking]

"Smoothing out the edges?" Eric asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

[the_cupbearer]

"Something like that," he murmurs, breath scented with the tart fruit and heavy smoke as he leans toward Erik. "I'd have thought you'd be more interested in sharpening my edges, as it were."

He smiles lazily at the vampire, pushing back his unbound hair and enjoying not having to act his age at the moment.

[onceaviking]

"That is true," Eric replies in an intimate tone of voice.
"I like edges."

[the_cupbearer]

"I know," he says softly, lips turning up at the edges. "What month is it for you?"

[onceaviking]

"September. Why?"

[the_cupbearer]

At that he chuckled, shaking his head; he wasn't stoned yet, clear-eyed as ever even though the smoke is helping blur the edges of stress. "Mere curiosity. It's December for me, and nearing the solstice. It always makes me...restless."

[onceaviking]

"I like the growing darkness, " Eric says. "But then I would, wouldn't I?"

[the_cupbearer]

"It's not the darkness that does it," Ganymede says. "It's...the cycle." The ending of one year, the dawn of another, the time to revisit everything he's done in those times for years and years past.

"Some people aren't afraid of what's in the dark."

[onceaviking]

Eric pauses.
Then he says, "Most people aren't cut out for immortality. "
Because maybe vampires occasionally reflect on those things as well.
Maybe.

[anewhero]

A terminator who acted human sat in the bar just watching the stranger and the other man smoke.

He didn't mind, honesty.

He found himself staring out the window at a full moon.

[the_cupbearer]

"Seeing something interesting?" Ganymede asked, feeling the stare boring into his skin.

[anewhero]

Marcus looked up "A full moon tonight.. That's all, found it interesting to look at."

[themerlin]

"Pardon me, sirrah. But is this seat open?" And so there is a female-formed Merlin, settling to the seat opposite Ganymede, her eyes alight. His beauty and singularity had been noticed by the wizard, these last few times she had seen him. But this was a first for approaching.

She was grinning, clad in a dress that hugged every curve and was both low cut and high hemmed.

From her hands spilled a tall decanter filled with Atlantaean wine, cut with human red wine called Sourca, a lost wine. This, drinkable without side effects, but quite strong and very tasty.

She poured herself a glass, then offered he decanter toward him.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede notices: he's gay, and happily so, but he's not blind. He blows out a thin, rippling stream of smoke and smiles at the offered decanter. "It could hardly be more so," he says, gesturing to the seat across from him.

"It's been a long time since I've been called sirrah," Ganymede says. "What makes you think you're of such a higher station to me?"

[themerlin]

"I do not. In my time and place, it was merely a way of addressing someone with respect, without other titles getting in the way. I apologize if I have given offense." She swept a sitting bow, and nodded.

She poured a second glass for him, in offer as she sipped some of her own, and awaited his answer. Not all encounters went well, and not all mis-steps could be healed, but, she would wait and see.

[the_cupbearer]

"It would take quite a bit more than that to offend me," he says, and takes the wine; he doesn't mind drinking, and even wine of strength will not get him drunk after only a glass.

[themerlin]

"Then, good. For twas no intended." She nodded, and smiled.

"Have you walked these halls for long, then?"

[the_cupbearer]

"Long?" he echoed, lifting a brow. "I only just came in."

He's being purposefully obtuse just to see how long it takes for her to get specific.

[themerlin]

Merlin raised an eyebrow. Either he was completely an idiot or... right.

She rolled her eyes and took a drink. "Then you are one of those not bound?"

[the_cupbearer]

"Correct, I am free to come and go as I please," he said breezily. "And I do. Often. And sometimes in that order."

He smiles, barely a curve of his lips, but it's there. "And you? Making a habit of offering strangers wine, I see." Noble pastime, that. He doesn't participate for various reasons.

[themerlin]

Merlin chuckled. Amusing, that.

"I offer wine to those I wish. Sometimes, a person seems to be of interest, and of interesting tale, and so I am curious. As is my want, I approach them. I follow older codes than most here remember."

[the_cupbearer]

"Oh, do you," he says, a tiny smile appearing on his lips. "And what about me seems interesting, may I ask?"

[themerlin]

"What you are eating, in fact, does. Few people choose such foods, and those, in particular, remind me of older days. Of different cultures and times. IN combination with that, you are, you ,must know, one of the most stunningly beautiful people around."

She nodded, sipping her drink.

"I notice things."