(no subject)

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

There is a Gorlim--
in the bar
with a Book of -- Poetry
and an iPod

hence the peculiarly
Emily-Dickenson-esque entry
Post.

Come and say
Hello.

Comments

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

Antigone freezes.

And, rather rapidly, her already-pale face drains to a sick and furious white.

Quicker than she's moved in a long time, the foot that she was only considering kicking him with lashes out in the direction of Gorlim's shins.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim LEAPS, quick as an Elf, and watches the foot fly past him as casually as if he'd never moved.

"My, you're a horrible shot," he observes cheerfully.

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

She stumbles, a feeling of horrible, inescapable clumsiness sinking into the pit her stomach's become. Shaking with a brittle fury, she says, "You haven't any right to mention him!"

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"What was that rule, no violence in the bar?" he asks inspecting his fingernails.

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

If she had something to throw at him, she'd be throwing it.

"I don't care!" she retorts. A bitter snort. "You're in no danger from me. A fine thing, to throw my brother in my face-- is that what they teach you, you valiant men?"

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"Valient?" Gorlim asks. His eyes narrow a touch. "Oh, but you have the story wrong, dear girl. I am a traitor. I sold my King, my country, my people, for a corpse. And then I watched them die. What is valience that goes unrewarded save by a soul torn forever in two, and a curse that can never be lifted?" He waves his hand to her. "Look for heroes somewhere else. I'll never be one."

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

Antigone's hands clench into fists at her side.

"Clearly," she snaps.

Her expression doesn't change from its cold, brittle anger, but it seems almost to harden with resolve.

"In the future, I shall know better than to expect anything of you.

"Sir."

She spins on her heels and stalks off, boots clunking. It's hard not to be angry at them for clunking.

It's even harder not to kick a chair as she goes.

[howling_laugh]

A cheerfully tipsy Coyote darts into Antigone's line of sight, halting directly in front of her, a little too close.

"Nice boots, sweet!"

She proceeds to dip Antigone and snog her enthusiastically. There is tongue.

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

Antigone's first reaction is to snarl.

This doesn't work well.

Her second reaction is to panic. This is marginally better, as Coyote's holding onto her too tight for her wild flailing to send her toppling over.

Antigone's third reaction, though she'll fervently deny it if pressed, is to think that Coyote's lips and tongue and hand at her back-- well, aren't so bad, and that perhaps struggling slightly less is all right.

[howling_laugh]

Coyote grins at her close range and sets Antigone carefully on her steel-toed feet.

"Merry Christmas, sweet. Thank you for the gift."

And then she spins around and heads off.

Mistletoe? Coyote don't need no stinkin' mistletoe.

[buriedmybrother.livejournal.com]

"What?"