milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Illyria's people-watching in a booth. She's been keeping mostly to herself of late, but the Shell's antics last evening left her with a number of amusing (and less-amusing, when the girl had woken up this morning with a hangover) memories. She's in the bar now just to keep an eye on things and make sure that the Shell doesn't get herself into any more 'fun'.

Bored, bored goddess. Have at?

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She glares in reply.

Which is a surprise to nobody, I'm sure.

"Have you come to be derisive and insulting for your own amusement as usual, or did you actually require my attention regarding some matter?"

"No, the prior, for the most part. It has given me amusement in the last few nights. I though I would share the enjoyment." Really, give it a shot sometime.

"I see your experiences have not changed you." she says, apropos of apparently nothing. It is hard to tell whether or not she sounds regretful or approving, since she doesn't give it any particular inflection.

"And I have experienced quite enough of what some would consider amusement, via the Shell's recent actions."

Montparnasse hardly believes the shell would cause a nuisance of herself as he does, but he feels the need to clarify.

"You mean she's been collecting limbs from aliens who are flung through the door? Or perhaps she is encouraging people to join the ranks of the undead without intention to follow through with the offer? Trying to arrange a relationship between a sweet princess and a crude bald man, perhaps?"

Of course the crude bald man may be familiar. As might the limbless alien. And even the princess for that matter.

Illyria blinks for a moment, and tries to conceal a tiny smirk by allowing her hair to fall into her face as she looks intently down at the table for a moment before replying.

"No." she replies at last, still looking faintly amused. "No, though those do sound ... interesting."

No Illyria, do not laugh. It is unbecoming of your goddessy status.

"Mainly she has been getting intoxicated and kissing a number of completely incongrous people in some ridiculous game."

His eyes narrow and he frowns ever so slightly.

"Sounds like a good game. Was being drunk a requirement?" He says finally, curiosity meant to cover his jealousy.

"And do you think she'd be willing to play again, if I asked for a demonstration of how it works?"

Illyria's faint smile disappears the moment he poses his question.

"She would, perhaps, be willing, as she does not find you unpleasant to look at, nor does she particularly dislike you."

A beat.

"However, were you do ask such a thing, I would be be forced to take measures to ensure that it would not happen again."

"Well, as I can already not drink," He snaps. "I will assume that you mean you would keep her away from alcohol." A grin. "Which, under the circumstances, as they seem to be, may be a wise idea regardless."

-Beat-

"So how about you then? Would you in willing to reenact those memories? For the sake of research?" The sake of science excuse is really paying off for him tonight.

Illyria has to suppress an almost overwhelming desire to strike him, then. To simply knock his head directly off, or to put a fist through it the way she'd done with the demon who had killed Wesley.

"How dare you ask me such a thing? After... would you like it if I re-enacted Giselle's memories as well? Or have you forgotten already?"

His eyes widen and for a moment he is stunned. May even appear hurt.

But then he sets his jaw and refuses to show it further.

"I have not forgotten." He smiles with an ostensible lack of concern. "But I would prefer that you do as you wish."

"What I wish is that I could forget the both of them, that I could be purely myself again instead of some inferior hybrid being." she snaps.

"But apparently I am not to have what I wish. This place has seen to that. You have seen to that, time and again."

He scowls, no glowers, at the accusation. "I? I have seen to it? In what way, madame? What have I done to make you any more inferior than you were to begin with? I think you take too many liberties with your accusations. That you forget all that I have offered in the past. All because of one mistake. One act which was not meant to hurt you, and yet, it is taken personally." Sure, he's angry now, and he feels he has every right to be. Foolish boy.

"One deed that was not so different from what happened that first night we spent together. Or have you forgotten that?" He snarls. "Because if you have, you certainly cannot fault me for pushing this thing from my mind. I have no more wish to dwell on it than you do, and every wish to just move on."

"I do not fault you, not entirely." she replies, more calmly than she feels. "And that is entirely the problem. I should fault you merely because I can. Merely because I wish to, and because you are insignificant. You should be insignificant." she insists, vehemently.

"But no, I have not forgotten. There have been times when I was nearly remorseful for that night, even though at the time I meant no specific harm. I want nothing more than to move on, as well."

A long pause, in which she looks at the table, the door, anything but him.

"But it seems that somewhere along the line I did become inferior, and developed ... I do not know that I would put a name to it, as the doctors have tried to. It is impossible. Impossible, improbable, and irrelevant, yes. All of those things." she's fairly babbling now, but she can't stop herself, as she meets his eyes again.

"All of those things, but not untrue."

Montparnasse just blinks and stares at the table for several moments. Many, even. He bits his lower lip, unintentionally drawing blood, but likely finding that comforting in itself, and furrows his brow.

Finally he looks up again. At her. "I was afraid of that." He replies softly.

And what hurts the most is all of the defending of her he's been doing recently. Telling the doctors, and anyone else who might ask, that they were wrong, that it was not possible, and now to be shown wrong. Oh, he could just imagine the mocking he'd get from the ghostbuster.

-Then, he realizes that something bothers him even more. While he doesn't return the feelings, he cannot fault her for them. He'd once felt the same about Giselle, and now he's being forced to admit it to himself.

"You needn't worry yourself." she says, too sharply.

"It changes nothing, I still have every intention of returning to my world."

And she knows he doesn't return the feelings, perhaps that he simply can't, though she doesn't suspect his feelings for Giselle.

"I do not expect anything of you in return. I simply thought you should be aware. Do with the information what you will, it is nothing to me but an unpleasant inconvenience."

She lies, yes, but it's a necessary one.

He nods.

"I understand. That is probably for the best." While it does hurt him to say it, he is still angry enough that he wouldn't admit it.

"At least we are in agreement on that much." she says, and rises from her seat. She can't leave the bar just yet, but she doesn't wish to be here any more.

She pauses for one last thing, before leaving.

"Try not to get yourself killed in my absence. I will still be aware of such things via the Shell, and I do not wish to be troubled further by the matter."

For all that she feels for him, she still manages to sound remarkably cold.

A small grin and a curt nod.

"I will do what I can."

Then he watches her leave, still shake his his head with something between amusement, annoyance, and pain.

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