milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Her conversation with Peter concluded, Liz has returned to the bar, and is seated at her accustomed table. Once again, the writing implements are before her, and once again, she is unable to find the proper words to put to paper.

Frustrated, she puts her pen down and reaches for her cup of tea, only to find that she has neglected to obtain a fresh cup. Pinching fingers about the bridge of her nose, she sighs.

In the same moment, however, she feels an surge of happy emotion, the precise form she is unable to label. She knows that it does not originate in her, and smiles as she realises the feeling comes through the link with Morpheus.

"Good for him," she murmurs.

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Dodging around and through the crowd with the ease of one used to serving much louder and drunker people, she manages to get Liz's table. "Liz! Good evening."

Liz looks over and smiles at the Valkyrie.

"Svava!" she says warmly. "Good evening to you, as well. It is good to see you again. Please, join me."

There's a relieved tone to her smile, as she sits down quickly. "Many thanks, Liz, and very nice to see you as well. How are you doing?"

"Much better now that the pirate-themed evening is over. Did you happen to be present for that occasion yesterday? For your sake, I rather hope not," Liz says wryly.

"And you? How do you fare?"

"I missed that," She blinks, thinking. "I can't quite fathom why there would be a day set aside for them."

"I am not entirely certain, either, but there was an abundance of patrons running about with piratical gear, spouting appropriate phrases. Or inappropriate phrases, as the case may be." Liz rolls her eyes slightly.

"Have you had experience with pirates, Svava? Your reaction seemed to indicate that you might."

"Pirates and raiders," She chuckles. "It sort of depends which side you are on, and I've seen both. Its thought of earning much glory to go out and get money, treasure and slaves from a raid." She shrugs. "It's considered the summer job, to do while the crops were growing."

"Then raiders would be considered the more positive aspect, if such a thing could be said, and pirates the negative?" Liz asks. "What distinguishes the two sides?"

"Which side you were on when the attack happened?" She chuckles. "If you are attacking, you are the glorious raiders. If you are being attacked, they are honorless pirates. So to speak."

Liz laughs. "That certainly settles the matter decisively. I, thankfully, have had experience with neither side. I am told that pirates trouble the naval vessels on occasion, but I am neither a sailor nor a resident of the seaside."

"I have met brave warriors from both sides, I have not been there myself." She laughs as well. "Here, though, there is no threat from either, so I can see making a day to play at them. Like children playing in the day, pretending to be the very monsters that they're afraid of at night?"

Liz blinks as she makes a sudden realisation. "I should correct myself. I have indeed made the acquaintance of a pirate, and even shared a bottle of rum with him, so it is not accurate to say that I have had no experience with either side of the matter. I should more properly say that I have not experienced raiding or plundering in my time. The pirate in question is an occasional patron here, and for all of his moral dubiousness, is quite the gentleman. So it is difficult to categorise, I suppose."

A very curious look. "He would be someone interesting to meet." She nods, and then a faint smile. "Since I am here, until the bar decides I may go, I am planning on meeting people, and talking to them, and learning about where they are from. Things like that."

"His name is Captain Jack Sparrow," Liz says with some amusement, noting Svava's look. "If you should like, I would be pleased to introduce you if the two of you ever happen to visit the bar on the same evening. Or you could certainly seek him out yourself. He does not stand on ceremony, really, and is far from easy to miss."

"I shall watch for him, then, though I would enjoy it if you introduced us." She smiles. "And I try not to stand on ceremony myself, except for those that it is accustomed. .... There are beings of Power here." The last added a bit more quietly.

"Simply look for the man in rather swaggish garb, with braids, beads, and knotted locks, and you shall have found him," Liz says with a grin, before sobering and giving a nod.

"Indeed there are such beings here. Have you chanced to meet any of them thus far?"

"Yes, I have." She says carefully. "Though I don't know their lineage, really. And neither of them wished to have recognition of that. One of them, I do forget at times, when talking to him." She chuckles quietly. "Will does not seem to stand on ceremony either."

"No, Will certainly does not," Liz says seriously, shaking her head. "He and I have been friends for some time, but it has only been very recently that he has begun to speak to me of his experiences. And even then, I often feel that he withholds far more information than he shares.

"Might I inquire as to the identity of the other being you have met, or should you prefer not to divulge that information?"

"Yrael, though I thought he was a cat at first." A bit sheepishly. "We have cats at home, many of them. Freya enjoys them, and seeing one here was nice."

Liz blushes, recalling her last encounter with the not-cat. With consternation, she thinks that she really must learn some mastery of her facial colour. Her talent for blushing is growing far too developed. She blames Peter for this.

"Do not distress yourself on that account," Liz says wryly. "I was informed in very short order that Yrael was not a cat, and still had difficulty remembering that fact. Upon our last meeting, I chanced to scratch his ear, and he thought it amusing to transform into human shape under my hand. I cannot recall the last occasion on which I experienced such mortification."

Svava blinks, and raises a hand to cover her mouth, trying very hard not to giggle. A cough, and she nods. "Ah. I would still scratch behind his ears, myself, even knowing that he is not a cat all the time. If one changes their shapes to that of beasts or birds, one must become accustomed to that sort of treatment, occasionally."

"Laugh if you wish to laugh, Svava," Liz says with a laugh of her own. "I would not have you hurt yourself. The experience was embarrassing at the time, but in hindsight takes on its own unusual brand of humour.

"I do not think that Yrael minds that treatment at all, necessarily. Rather, I believe he has a rather mischievous sense of humour, and delights in making other patrons uneasy, even his friends. Especially his friends, I daresay."

She does grin at Liz, and laughs then. "It sounds like he is very much similar to a cat, then, in that regard."

Liz pauses to consider briefly, then laughs again, more freely this time. "Indeed it does, very much so. He acts the part perfectly, right to the smug expression. Even when he is in human form, I half-expect him to curl into a ball and being cleansing himself."

Svava blinks, and then one hand up, just to muffle the laughter to some degree.