milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The green bagel on Barry's plate was a dead giveaway. It was St. Patrick's Day. And the bar was being funny.

Barry, in costume today but with the cowl down, found himself remembering the breakfasts before half the cops went to either watch over or march in the parade. Every year, Sgt. Fay, Sgt. O'Neil and Officer Murphy would bring in their wives' soda bread and hold a taste test. Barry never could tell the difference, but all threee swore by each wife's taste of Eire.

He took the bagel and his coffee to the back of the bar, and sat to think. To think about how he has a granddaughter who's also a hero. To think about how Bart seems so mercurial. And to think about Sara. Was she really flirting with him? Was he really flirting back? Should he be doing this? Is it too soon? Will it ever not be "too soon?"

He was confused. He didn't like confused. So he just sat back to eat his bagel.

[ooc: usual work-enforced slow-time advisory.]

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"Oh, Ireland, yes, I have heard of it." Asar-Suti nods enthusiastically.

"In fact, there's an equivalent on my home world, called Erinn. So if I meet Blais today, who's from Erinn, I should probably stand him a mug of green ale or something?"

And then some - Asar-Suti muses that he hasn't seen Blais for entirely too long a time.

"Only if the green is not as fake as this is. And if he's a proud Erinnite.

"I know a few Earthers who hate the day. It's often a celebration of Irish ale and whiskey rather than irish culture. Though the cops I knew loved it, and made a party of sorts."

"Oh, he's a proud Erinnishman, a proud Cheysuli warrior, and a a very laid-back fellow in general; I am sure he'll try anything that can get you drunk. He likes his drink and his wenches, which is rather Erinnish of him, and Irish was well, if I get that right."

Asar-Suti shrugs; any cultural holiday can descend to an excuse for getting legless, can it?

"That's a fairly traditional Irish attitude, yes." A traditional human one as well, he thinks.

"Though officially the day is connected to a saint called Patrick. Certainly the wenching would be frowned upon by the churchmen."

"And getting stinking drunk is nor?"

Asar-Suti grins. "And our Erinn is a bit like Ireland used to be before there were any churchmen. Churchmen aren't invented on our world yet."

Asar-Suti might add that the ancient Irish churchmen were much more laid-back than the modern ones, if he knew that, which he doesn't; also, he luckily doesn't know that it is he who embodies some sort of evil projection of said churchmen, in his world. So, two nice explanation that go unexplained.

"Officially, it's not permitted, either, but my friends on the force used to tell me that theri parish priests knew a few things about how to get drunk and not lose sight of the holy orders.

"Though I'm skeptical.

"I wouldn't say your world is better off without churchmen - a truly religious man is often an asset to the community. But the churches on Earth, like any large organization, have a way of becoming rather empty."

"I know - I have researched Earth religions, especially Christianity, around Christmas. I even went to a religious ceremony (http://www.livejournal.com/users/asar_suti/4855.html) on Earth during that holiday."

Asar-Suti shrugs. "And our world didn't have churchmen, but we had other religions - the Cheysuli had their gods, and the Ihlini had, well, me, and the Erinnish had some totally different powers again..."

"Christmastime on Earth can be beautiful, but I tend to find the relgious ceremonies less meaningful than the family events. Used to always have dinner with my predecessor and his wife. That meant more than all the services, or the gifts.

"Dare I ask if anyone worshipped you?"

Asar-Suti makes a face, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes - but grinning as well, to show he's not really angry at all.

"Of course they worshipped me! They served me, abjectly, did my bidding, and drank my 'blood', as they called the essence that contained and conferred my magic. I had some very nice and dedicated worshippers, thank you!"

Asar-Suti laughs, and notes, with something of astonishment, that the thought doesn't make him melancholy at all.

"Christmas is much nicer, though. We were a bit austere - purple flames, and an underground hall of black glass columns, and everything very numinous."

Barry laughs along with Suti, but shudders a little. At some level, it isn't so easy to tlak to evena jovial reformed dark god. The air certainly crackles with a tiny bit of lost but nto forgotten power.

"A friend actually suggested that in this costume, I could pass for Santa Claus, with the beard added. Did you encounter the legend of Santa?"

"Yes, but it didn't really make sense - some entity that brings the Christmas gifts but is not at all connected to the religious story. But then, it's a midwinter festival, of course, and those have existed at all times on all worlds that have seasons, and so there are remnants, of course. So I didn't really bother. There was some Christian retcon with a saint, though?"

Asar-Suti has been reading up on Earth religions.

"There's that word again. Retcon. Did someone invent a new word since I died?

"and yes, Santa was grafted onto the Christmas story from elsewhere. I'm not sure why. But the idea of putting on a beard and giving gifts to whatever children are here next Christmas sounds like fun."

"Retcon means inventing an expanation after the fact, or splicing in a tale that doesn't really fit," Asar-Suti explains. "I think there must have been many new words since you died - the world changes, and that meanst that language changes with it. Language changes all the time while it's spoken."

Then he grins.

"There are quite a lot of children here by now - there is the blue-haired little girl who lives in the House Of Arch, and little Sunny who bites, and of course Seth, although he might be still too young to notice it's Christmas when that comes around again."

"Ah. That's a handy word. Think I'll keep it.

"And you can never tell with children. Seth might get it. Sort of."

"I think I will go see who's around in the bar. Have a good St. Patrick's Day."

"You too - I have to go back to the building site, or people will say I am shirking..." Asar-Suti says, finishes his coffee, and hurries off.

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