milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There is a boy - looking to be about fourteen - standing in the doorway.

Behind black-rimmed glasses, his eyes flick over the patrons curiously. Many, many humans - many also not so human - some...

Hmm.

Harth Fray comes further in, letting the door shut behind him.

The vampire watches the bar silently.

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"House rules, we have to serve everyone. We even have a special handbook for it. To Serve Everyone"

Harth smiles pleasantly.

"Even underage ones? Rocketship."

"Well, sadly no. Bar won't let us give out drinks to people underage for their homeworld or....time
...
What did you just say?"

Harth tilts his head, and regards Mike intently.

"...Rocketship?"

Mike's face has gone pale, and his stomach is somewhere near his knees.

"Yeah...that's what I thought you said."

Harth is looking consideringly at him. Another friend of Mel's, obviously...

He smiles, letting Mike continue his thought process.

"You're from Haddyn....aren't you."

It's not even a question.

"Yeah," he says, all too casually. "Born and raised. And... turned, obviously."

"harth"

Harth blinks, innocently meeting his eyes.

"Hello."

All the stories. All the nightmares. All the tears.
For him?
He...he doesn't look like much of a threat at all.
Just some scrawny computer nerd that could use a little more sun.

"Hi."

Strange ideas begin to plague his mind.
At least if he's in here and she's out there....he can't kill her.
If I get him, then she'll have nothing left to fight.

"I thought you'd be taller."

Harth shrugs.

"Ah, height's overrated."

"Besides. Just a kid, me, really."

"Uh huh. And I'm just a bartender. Me. Really."

"You?" asks Harth.

"You're not even... quite... human."

He smiles, looking ridiculously young.

"You keep talking like that and I'm going to have to cut you off before you even get started."

Then Mike grins.
It's a large grin that either says: Wow, I'm super happy to see you or No it's fine for you to be standing on that rather large X on the ground. Just don't look up.

The boy tilts his head.

"Now, that ain't friendly," Harth pouts, which turns into a smirk.

"Here's a lesson for you kid, see. Bartenders ain't your friend, see. They's just your dealer. Dealer for things you need. Things you want. Things...they can decide you don't get."

It's a shame Harth is a few centuries too late for a good Edward G. Robinson impression.

Indeed it is.

He rolls his eyes, then grins, face suddenly sharper - predatory. "Yeah, but... when vampires get hungry..."

His gaze drifts down the bar, and rests for a second on a young girl a little way away. Then snaps back to Mike.

"But whatever. I'm good." For now.

"They follow the rules like everyone else, or they're put in a sun room with really thin blinds?"

Mike offers helpfully.

Harth smiles benevolently.

"I'll follow the rules, never you mind," he says. "This place is far too interestin' not to."

"Consider yourself part of my vast pool of Nevermind."

Harth grins.

"Good t'hear it. See you around!"

He wanders off happily.

Mike looks down at the Bar.

"Of all the Fray's in the world, you had to choose that one?"

He sighs, and then returns to work.

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