milliways_bar | (no subject)

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esme cullen

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The door opens, and reality protests. She, it is a she, yes? Yes. Definitely feminine, for all that the eye does not wish to see her, she enters. She is not seen so much as experienced; her robes sound like cessation, her eyes are the color of suicide, her skin is the taste of peace. Tears leak constantly from her eyes.She moves like mortality made flesh as she enters the room. Her steps, like the flow of time, do not falter.

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[OOC:*fangirls* is an understatement; you rock, this post is amazingly cool.]

[OOC: I second the motion that that post rocks.]

Hawkins watched from any old booth, like a quiet shadow who is neither maliscious or benevolent. Just quiet. Well, in truth, it leaned towards benevolence. And isn't quite as complex or nifty as Astarael. Damn you, curiousity.

But who can stay silent longer? Hawkins has emotional trauma on his side. But that's nothing compared to her nature, so he'll probably lose.

He gives her the most tiniest of smiles evah. Possibly because she's a far more celestial being than himself. And hell, why not?

, but then she is .

Hawkins rose and came over, producing a hanky with which she might dry her tears. It's clean, too, unlike the rest of him.

"What's wrong?" He eventually asked.

She . The very makes

Hawkins felt the tremors deep within his being, where God and other greater forces described not even remotely properly in the faintest Masonic and Gnostic lore. "What are you?" He eventually asked, in a tone that wasn't trying to be harsh but in a voice that indicated he was trying to make sense of what he saw.

He stared at the tears for a long time, them up at her. Was he supposed to take her hands? He wasn't the best at riddles but multiple ESPs helped. A little.

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Strange how he comes here when Knight's in Toronto. Or possibly because Knight's in Toronto...

The crying -- girl? Woman? -- draws his attention away from his blood, and he's on his feet in an instant, trying to discern the problem. No injury that he can see or smell.

"Miss?"

He's at her side, wary of actually touching her because there's no knowing how people are going to react to that, and while he's got vampire strength and speed he doesn't particularly want to upset her worse.

"Did something happen to you, miss? Do you need anything?"

a , .

"Okay. Do you want to sit down, maybe get something to drink?"

Odd girls are things he's used to. Witness Urs, Divia... maybe not Divia.

She

He sits down, looking a little awkward, and smiles hesitantly.

"Would you like something to drink, something to eat?"

"Bar, encantadora, another of my usual and a shake for the lady, please?"

He takes a sip of his blood and smiles at her. The silence is a bit odd, but maybe she's the type that doesn't like to talk. Or maybe she can't talk.

"I'm Vachon. Javier Vachon, actually, but about two people use my first name and one of them only when he's mad at me, so mostly people just call me Vachon."