milliways_bar | (no subject)

Illyria probably thinks it's her.

"Is anything wrong?" she asks, appearing, as usual, out of nowhere.

"Not a thing, madame." He even smiles, if, still, a little forced.

"I have come to conclusions and set my mind at ease."

"You are well, I expect?"

"As well as usual." she says, dismissively.

"Things are... different, somehow. I cannot put my finger on it." She says, frowning.

"It is rather like the sensation that mortals refer to as deja vu. I felt so once before, after it was revealed that a set of the Shell's memories that I had were false."

"What sorts of things spark it? Speaking to certain individuals? Or certain amusements?" He's curious.

This may require investigation. Or at least some mischief towards those involved.

"I am uncertain." she replies, still frowning.

"Speaking to you has caused it a time or two. Things get muddled somehow, like I had spoken with you already at an earlier point in a given day, only I know we haven't."

She shrugs, dismissively. "It is likely only because I am not accustomed to associating closely with mortals, and with keeping to your linear time structures."

He nods.

"It is logical reasoning." Perhaps he'd address the question with Fred.

"If you think that we ought to remain apart until it is dealt with. . ." He does not finish the though. He figures she is more than capable of doing so.

"No." she insists, a bit too vehemently.

"No, I will not be constrained by such a small thing. If it becomes too troubling, I will deal with it, but for now, it is mere annoyance."

He nods firmly.

"Agreed." A sigh.

"...I ought to get a room." He remarks, seemingly randomly.

She blinks.

"... yes, I thought you had already established that you were going to." she says, as though they had discussed it already. Perhaps they had, but only vaguely.

"At any rate, it would keep you from having to resort to my floor."

He frowns. "I will need to acquire a job as well, I think."

"Not that there is anything here that I can do."

She eyes him, considering the matter.

"No, I should think not, though others seem to find employment easily enough. You might not make a bad bartender, as their communication seems to often consist of flippant remarks and vague flirtation with the patrons. You can certainly manage both of those."

"I think that I would not be trusted, and perhaps overly flippant. Also, I do not know the first thing about mixing drinks." He shakes his head. "Still, it is a thought."

"I would not worry about it terribly." she says, with a shrug.

"After all, you do not plan to stay here forever. Once you return to your own world, will you not return to your customary ways of acquiring money? I would be surprised if you would even bother to return to settle your debts."

He does not care to answer this accusation, so- "You are correct, I ought not to be concerned." he replies in agreement, and changes the subject.

"How have you acquired funds?"

"Winnifred Burkle was employed at a major law firm in one of the largest cities of her time. She was the head of an entire department. She was well paid." Illyria replies.

"When I return, I will simply retrieve what I can from her bank account and return to settle my tab. She had little enough time to do anything with her money, since she spent most of her days and nights in her lab, and as her family is as of yet unaware of her death, it would otherwise go to waste."

It seems simple enough, but she looks as though she may be developing a headache at the mention of the Shell. She shakes her head to clear it, and sighs in annoyance.

"I see. So I need to take over the body of a wealthy individual." He sighs.

"If only it were so simple."

She glares at him.

"If I am to allow you to accompany back to my own world at some point, perhaps you can resume your old violent ways and direct your attention to those employed by the law firm." she says, eyes narrowed.

"They certainly stand in my way, and a great number of them are purely evil, in the eyes of those who concern themselves with such things. It would be no disservice to humanity. The Shell's friends might even thank you for such a thing."

"I wonder how difficult it would be to learn to read. It would certainly make work easier to find." He replies, completely dodging the subject.

She blinks at him.

"You never learned to read?"

More blinking.

"I was unaware. It makes sense, but I had not realized."

She frowns. "It would likely be a time-consuming process, as most people learn over a number of years. Perhaps there are those here who could merely impart the knowledge upon you magically. I know of such things - one of the Shell's co-workers was given the knowledge of a lawyer overnight."

"A cop out. It would be, I feel, against the point of wishing to learn. It is, as much, to prove that I am capable." He's embarrassed by the admission, but it got them off the subject of violence.

"It is your choice. Perhaps you may find someone here with enough patience to tutor you. They would have to speak your native language, I would think." she says, a bit dubious as to the existence of such a person, even in this place.

"Yes, I do feel that such patience is the largest limiting factor." He smiles ruefully at this. "Perhaps I shall ask around."

Illyria considers this for a moment, and then, something occurs to her.

"...oh. I had not taken something into account. That is troubling." she sighs, and frowns at him.

He arches one eyebrow and regards her curiously.

"Do you intend to expound on this unanticipated revelation, that I might assist in procuring a resolution?"

"If you were to accompany me to my world, or anywhere nonmagical, we would not be able to understand each other, most likely."

Still frowning.

"You do not speak any of the languages I can communicate in, and even with my perfect memory, the shell did not know French well enough to be fluent. I cannot access what she never knew."

He cocks his head to one side and considers this.

"It is true, but take your own advice and discover one who might impart the knowledge to you. Or we might take the time that we have here to educate each other."

She sighs.

"It is a thought. I should perhaps be able to learn what the Shell's memories lack. At least she had a foundation in it, enough that I might be able to learn from books. Pronunciation might be awkward, since the rules of languages vary so, but I might manage."

She does not mention wishing for assistance in the matter. A god needed no such assistance.

"Listen to myself, without the assistance of bar, and you will pick up pronunciation easily enough."

The mun advises: Just don't pronounce the last five letters of any word.

Illyria's eyes widen, as though something new has just dawned on her.

She pauses, listening, her senses fine-tuned, and subtly listens with a different sort of sense, filtering out the magic that surrounded them, and listening through it. It was difficult at first, like listening through a wall, but after a few moments, she was able to tell what was being said in the true voices all around her, untranslated.

"Fascinating." she says, with great interest.

"Say something." she demands.

~~The rain in Spain sta-~~

He blinks.

"Er, well, the peacekeeper and myself are no longer on speaking terms. It seems that I ruin, -friendships, is not the correct word." He gestures dismissively. "...Whatever they ought to be called, as quickly as anyone."

Including Illyria.

Illyria hears the whole thing in French, and understands bits and pieces of it.

Mostly the part about "Peacekeeper", "ruin", and "friendship."

"Fascinating." she repeats, to herself. "I had not known one could do that."

And then, allowing the bar's magic to shield her senses once more,

"Not whatever it was you said about the Peacekeeper. I am certain she is equally responsible for whatever the issue is."

"More than, indeed." He scoffs.

"It is now issue. It has been peaceful. It is her-" He scratches his head. "-lover, that causes the largest annoyance. But it is just as well, they are, apparently, no longer together."

Illyria tilts her head.

"And this pleases you? You wish her to be unattached, perhaps so that you may pursue her yourself?"

"Mon dieu! Non, madame." He shakes his head vehemently. "If I wanted her the relationship would not stop me."

He shakes his head bemusedly. "It is simply that now neither of them are happy."

Petty, Montparnasse.

"I see." she says, a faint smile playing at her lips. She suspects that, whatever he wished, the Peacekeeper would have put a stop to any such interest immediately.

"So nobody is allowed to be happy, whether or not their happiness affects you? Merely because you are not happy, yourself?"

"I do not think that I like what you are implying. You put words into my mouth. I will not dignify your accusation with a response, even to correct your misunderstanding."

"You take offense so easily." Illyria says, narrowing her eyes.

"I imply nothing, I merely ask out of curiosity. It matters little to me whether or not you wish to clarify, but that seems counterintuitive to us reaching any greater understanding of one another, does it not?"

"Then ask my reasons rather than making assumptions."

Illyria looks annoyed for a moment, and rather as though she would like to storm away. But she is learning restraint, slowly, and so she stays. For now.

"I suppose I assumed that you would provide them if you wished to. I have long since learned that you rarely if ever give me answers to most of my questions, so perhaps I have begun not to ask."

"So instead," He snaps. "you proceed to make up your own answers. Which are inevitably ridiculous and counter intuitive to everything I have told you, without ever giving me the option to explain."

"And I have said that I meant nothing by it." she snaps, in return.

"If you must always be this quick to anger over nothing at all, I can see why you have such trouble getting along with others. And now, if I did give you the option to explain, would you? Or would you storm off as one of us inevitably does?"

"I cannot say just now. Try me and find out."

One would think that easily angered would be beneficial to her, to some degree.

She shrugs.

"Very well. Why do you take pleasure in the knowledge that neither Aeryn nor her former lover are happy?"

She refrains from rolling her eyes, as she cannot imagine caring about such things, herself.

"I suppose I do not, so much, take pleasure in their pain, as I do not take displeasure in their happiness. They are not people I get along with. One would give me a hard time when they heard that I'd spoken with the other. *Shrug* "If they are not together, they will not plot more annoyances." He rolls his eyes at the absurdity.

"Sensible, I suppose." she says, with faint approval.

And then, feeling exceptionally charitable,

"I regret my previous misinterpretation of your words. You are still rather unpredictable to me, at times."

"It is my intention. I do not wish either of us to grow comfortable."
We know what happened to her last time she allowed it.

"But you apology is accepted." He almost smirks at this.

"Complacency would be inadvisable." she agrees.

"It is a lucky thing that neither of us wishes for it. And it keeps me from growing bored." she adds.

She may be teasing, slightly. Or not. It is hard to tell when she barely has a range of expressions to choose from.

"There are other ways of keeping you amused." He points out.

Though they do all tend to involve some sort of violence or disagreement.

"Perhaps we can set up a rotation."

You know, in case arguing gets boring after three days in a row, there is abuse, then angry violent sex.