milliways_bar | (no subject)

A man that Nina has met before.

Same tailored suit, sharp as ever. Same deadly grace. Same nearly silent approach. Same cool, dry voice. Same dark eyes.

Always the same dark eyes.

"Good afternoon, Lady Nina."

Speak of the devil! (Well, think of the devil is probably more accurate...)

"Asmodean?" Nina turns to face him, a pleased light dawning over her face. "What--what brings you here today?"

She hopes and prays he doesn't notice the slight quiver in her voice. He probably will, she thinks dryly, but she hopes and prays furiously all the same.

If Asmodean noticed (and doubtlessly he did), then he made no reaction to it. His harp is being held gracefully in his right hand.

"I often visit those for whom I have played before."

Any intentions or implications will have to be created in Nina's mind because they do not exist in his face and voice.

Nina looks carefully, hiding her own feelings with a desperate effort, but Asmodean's face is unreadable. You're being an idiot, she curses herself roundly, wrestling with dark shadowy thoughts at the back of her mind. "I'm flattered," she says, more or less evenly--even lightly. "It's always an honour to hear from you."

Asmodean gave a graceful (always deadly) bow, a touch of a smile on his face.

"The honour may be yours, but the pleasure is mine."

Again with the unreadable.

She's resisting the impulse to draw implications from that, very hard, and succeeding. Sort of. It's such a difficult game to play with him, sometimes--and that's why she's drawn to him, absolutely fascinated by him.

"The honour and pleasure are both mine, in this case." She smiles. "How many other people have been lucky enough to hear you?"

Asmodean considered for a moment.

"Well, slightly more than a handful do I visit on numerous occasions."

He paused.

"Though those who enjoy my music or my company are always visited regularly."

"You've never thought of giving a concert or anything?" Nina is genuinely curious. "It's not like you wouldn't be well-received..."

Asmodean considered and shook his head.

"No, I suppose the acoustics of this place are not given to that."

He paused and smiled slightly.

"Besides, concerts are very impersonal, and interacting with my patrons holds a certain joy."

"How do you make it so personal?" Nina furrows her brows, her eyes serious and searching, almost as if trying to read the hidden secret in his dark gaze. "It's like--it's as if you have the power to read souls, hearts and mind, and respond to that. How?"

Asmodean leveled a dark-eyed gaze against her. A touch of smug amusement on his face, an almost predatory smirk. Nina might be inclined to think he could read her like an open book, while his dark eyes are disinclined to give up their secrets.

"While I do have the power to read the thoughts and peruse memories, it is not something that I do without need. It is impolite."

He paused.

"Besides, when you have been around as long as I have you learn to read into people's movements and actions. Combine that with music that speaks to the heart's of men, and that is your answer."

Nina is so inclined. Once again she feels vulnerable, exposed and wounded raw, and swallows her hurt as best as she can. "It sounds like you use that skill with more than music..."

Asmodean shrugged slightly, but did not take his dark eyes from Nina.

"I have before."

His voice is still as calm as ever.

"How?" Nina feels, not for the first time, a slight twinge of fear.

Suddenly, Asmodean's eyes fill with fire. Not a metaphorical one, but a literal fire as a way to describe the emanations of power from his eyes. The very air around him begins to burn, and lightning flickers around his body.

"I have ways, Lady Nina."

Just as quickly, the power is gone, and those dark eyes still remain.

Nina is frozen to her seat, trying very, very hard not to run away. "Impressive," she says softly, her voice a little faint. "Can that be... can that be learned?"

Asmodean considered. His dark eyes still watching, a gleam of something fell in his eyes.

"You have to have the ability inborn, and I rather doubt that you have such abilities."

He paused

"There are entities which have given powers more dangerous and mighty to their followers."

Elaine comes up to Yelena's table, smiling sunnily, in jeans and a purple t-shirt that says "Milliways Barmaid--Hands Off!" "Good even, Yelena...can I get you anything from the bar or kitchen for you today?"

"Do you need to wear that shirt a lot?" Nina has to grin, speaking dryly. "No drinks for me, thanks. D'you know why the bar is so slow today?"

"Well, I've not had occasion as yet to need it. No, I do not know why the bar is slow today, I'll have to investigate it. I hope you are faring well today?"

Nina wonders idly how Elaine manages to say all that in one breath. "I'm fine, thanks--I'm probably drinking too much, anyways, so don't be offended if I don't go and order anything."

She raises an eyebrow. "Who runs the bar around here, anyways?"

~~Elaine's dead, she doesn't technically need to breathe.~~ "Well, the Head Barman in a gentleman named Bernard. But sometimes if Bar is unhappy--or Bernard, for that matter--she will sometimes serve slow." Elaine frowns. "I really will have to enquire about that."

~~Excuses, excuses. ;)~~ "The Bar? Unhappy?" Nina raises both eyebrows at that. "It's a bar. How can it be unhappy?"

"Well, she is sentient. Did you not know that? She and the Head Barman are connected by some sort of enchantment." Elaine grins. "She is also engaged to a rather nice Broom."

"A Broom." Nina bites back her laughter, trying not to smile. "You mean... like one of those walking brooms, in Fantasia?"

"I'm not sure. Tis quite a polite Broom, to be sure."

Elaine hasn't seen Fantasia before.

Oh. Nina should probably explain that one, shouldn't she? "In the movie, you know, with Mickey Mouse, where he..." She trails off, laughing openly--but not mockingly--now. "...ah, never mind. How can a broom be polite?"

"Well, he's always seemed so to me, anyway. Doesn't brush dust on the patrons' clothing." Elaine laughs. "I'd never thought to have a conversation like this in life." ~~It's a good thing she's dead.~~

"Me either," Nina says, very fervently. She looks up at the pretty barmaid, her look softening ever so slightly. "I don't mind, though. Do you?"

"Not at all. It's strange but it's rather normal for this place."

"You really do enjoy it here." Nina tilts her head. "When you get time off from being a barmaid, who do you go with?"

"Go with?" Elaine asks. "Is that another way of saying 'dating'?" Modern terms can be so very confusing.

Nina tries not to laugh again. "No, I mean--who do you sit with, spend time with?"

"Oh. Well, I have my friend Spike, who is a bounty hunter from Mars, and his girlfriend Beth. I also know a lot of people from Los Angeles. And I do have a gentleman friend. His name is Ryan Chappelle." Elaine beams, as she always does when talking about Ryan.