Log; Ongoing

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

When; Sept. 6, midnight?
Rating; PG (likely)
Characters; Scarab (noh_dancer), The Corinthian (bitingnightmare)
Summary; Having helped guide him to the library, Scarab calls in a minor debt.
Log;

It was late night, again, and he was alone with that grating tick, again, what harm could it do? The Corinthian accepted Scarab's offer, though it was more like a duty he owed her out of respect, and agreed to meet at one of the few places he'd seen serving alcoholic drinks that weren't mixed with liquor of questionable origins. It wasn't that he didn't like opening up to new ideas, the white-blond just didn't believe he should expose himself to such potential risks so soon. He didn't even wait for her inside the establishment, choosing to stand around outside like the 'hardcase' he was.

Actually he loitered on the sidewalk to enjoy a cigarette, one of the few in his slowly dwindling pack. He'd have to restock sometime later though he would be most meticulous about the brand if they didn't serve any earthly kinds.

Considering the absence of most laws in The City one might wonder why he didn't take his poisonous puffing inside where he could have an ashtray within arm's reach. Like Scarab seemed uncomfortable presenting her disfigured hand, The Corinthian was uncomfortable sucking down carcinogens that would have to escape through all three of his mouths. Holding smoke in one's normal mouth was distasteful enough, keeping the clouds in his teeth-eyes were just masochistic.

So he puffed away, waiting for her arrival, seeping gray from his lips and his glasses.

Comments

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

And since she asked the question he stared at her behind his glasses silently, considering how to answer it. There were a few things he learned from the greasy black bird and one of them was that not everyone who looked into his eyes sought the dark truth. Hrm, and at the same time he couldn't help but notice that fancy cigar, though he was far from being a cigar man.

"I do, it's how I was made to be," The Corinthian explained in a cryptic manner for it was a mystery, how Dream created him. He brushed his fingertips over the lenses. "There's nothing here, but I can see everything."

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

Good Answer.

Scarab was no stranger to the darker aspects of life, though men with teeth for eyes was a new one on her, it didn't bother her as much as some might think.
She asked out of curiosity and to see how trusting Alex was. First impressions tended to be right, and in this case the answer was : Not even a little bit.

Still, she remembered that he had 'eyes' yesterday...but chose not to comment. Somehow she had a feeling those eyes weren't ever his to begin with.

"Made to be, huh?" She mused, and took a draw. Noting how he seemed to be looking at the pack on the bar ( 'seemed' being the operative word. How does one tell where line of sight is with no eyes to go off of?) and tapped another out.
Offerring it to him, she asked another question.

" So what mysteries have you found in your first two days?"

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

It was sort of the only answer he could give without lying, and the man had no reason to lie about that.

Trust was a different issue that could use some ironing out. But the nightmare was still young and undoing the damage to himself, from his predecessor. As for impressions, Scarab struck him as non-threatening, to him at least. He thought he would have been able to detect any ill-will from the moment they met.

"Made to be," The Corinthian reaffirmed with a nod and a sip. Being unable to tell what he was looking at was an advantage from a predator's standpoint, but it also gave off those wrong first impressions, 'wrong.'

He considered the offered hand roll then plucked it from her fingers to light up.

"That this place is a big fucking joke and I'm lost on the punchline."

Once he had it lit the white-blond seemed a bit thoughtful, then he decided to remove the glasses. This city wasn't the waking world he knew, there were things out there far more terrible than he, walking unmasked. He may as well drop the specs too.

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

She sipped at the sake, and laughed.

" The punchline hits in about nine months, when the clock stops."

She took a drag and gestured to take in everything: The bar, the building, herself, Alex, and the city at large.

" All of this fighting, and fucking, and whining and laughing is going to be really pointless when that clock hits '12'."

Exhaling, her voice took on a tinge of bitterness.

" We all turn to ashes and dust, and the deities get a great big laugh. Thats the punchline"

Scarab leaned for an ashtray, and not being able to reach it, had to come mostly off the stool to drag it back.

" The sad thing is: a lot of dead people are finding out how to 'live' agian here. Some are even being reunited with lost friends and loved ones..."

And some discovering whole new loved ones... She added mentally.

" It's cruelty at it's finest: Pure bliss to distract you until time runs out.." She looked down & shifted until her chin rested on one knee.

She took a hit and let it escape her lips a little to french inhale, watching Alex remove the glasses.
At least he was getting a little more comfortable here?

" You know, I don't think you need to worry about wearing those here." She commented with a nod to the glasses.

" What with angels, demons, and monsters coming a dime a dozen. No offense."

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

"I read what that's all about," he nodded. The carousel, the clock, the worlds, the city may as well have been an automatic mechanism designed by Heaven and Hell to govern limbo without a throne.

"You like it here," The Corinthian concluded coolly. The way she spoke about The City smacked of cynism shrouded all around a small amount of sentimentality. Obviously he couldn't relate to her bond with the place, having been here for only days, but he could understand her attachment. Were the Dream King to choose not to rebuild him....

No need for woe and angst, the end of the world was a little farther off than the immediate threat that was the pointy headed thing. Since Scarab had brought the ashtray over he tapped the black roll over its rim and tucked his glasses away.

"I got that same impression after I saw the bat with three eyes," he said to her with a smirk. Even his teeth eyes smirked before smoke seeped out from their edges. "None taken, just don't look into them."

It was a half-hearted warning. He averted his gaze anyway.

"What's in it for you, around here."

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

What, Indeed...

Well, Alex seemed to be alright: No impulse to kill people or dissect them at random ( well, at least without warning) so she shrugged and figured it was easier just to tell the truth.

"The same thing that's in this for a lot of people. Friends."

She wondered if the warning was more to do with personal discomfort, rather than any real problem in looking at his 'eyes'.
Deciding it was probably a little of both, she remained polite, and didn't press the issue. She wasn't to keen on showing off her maimed hand, so it made sense he might not like people staring either.

" I came here alone, but when I needed help the most, niether of them even thought about not helping me."

She emptied her cup, and turned to refill it from the small clay vessel the barkeep had set out for her.

" Where I come from, and especially in my former line of work, thats rare."

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

He had impulses but chose not to act on them, most of them anyway. The Corinthian was a cold and calculating creature, traits he was sure his Lord Shaper had kept within in rebirth. There was little value in killing Scarab's friends anyway, he gained no sadistic joy from the undeserving pain of.... women.

"Friends, none you had in your former life," he asked her, taking great care in touching her nerves if necessary, for he wasn't one to avoid touching nerves altogether.

While there was a mild case of personal discomfort it was mostly a real problem in looking at his eyes. It took two to play that game, but he felt it better to take precautions, especially with his impulses. Sometimes he didn't want to find things he didn't know were there until he looked straight into a person's eyes. It spoiled things.

"You're pretty fortunate," fortunate than most, said the nightmare with another sip then a smoke. The teeth eyes hissed softly.

"What did you used to do, Scarab," he inquired thoughtfully.

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

As advertised: he seemed alright.
No worrying that Faye's smartass remarks would end with her being gutted for kicks.

Frederick, though...well he didn't deal well with the supernatural. Which is to say he didn't deal very well with the city on a whole.

She took another sip, this one a bit more generous than the last.

" No. I didn't have any friends back home." None living anyway...

" I don't know about being all that 'fortunate', but it is nice not having to watch my back alone anymore."
The candid statement was probably due to the fine rice wine in her hand....but that made it no less true.

A real pity it took lowered inhibitions in order for the truth to be easier to tell.

She smiled and took a thoughtful drag on her cigar, noting it was nearly cached.

" You know what Scarabs do in nature, right? They clean up other animals shit."

A half shrug.

"Thats what I used to do. Clean up other people's shit. Generally rich and powerful people, the ones that got to be a little too rich or powerful."

It was a slightly easier way of saying 'I was an assassin. I killed crime lords, and Yakuza because the government dicks didn't like to share.'

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

If she was as smartass as a certain pumpkin in overalls The Corinthian wouldn't have a problem with her mouth, although a war of biting remarks was likely inevitable. He was accustomed to interacting with mortals of the waking world as much as he was residents of the dreaming, demi-gods, and Endless alike. Meeting Frederick shouldn't be too awkward... except for that one little unspoken thing.

"I had two, maybe three," he mentioned to Scarab off hand, almost briefly melancholic.

"Mm, you're fortunate to have people to help you," and the nightmare could say she returned the favor to other strangers likewise, from personal experience. "I do," know what scarabs do, said the man of seemingly few words as he exhaled again.

"I know what you mean, doing their dirty work," not to imply that's how he viewed himself, but it may have seemed that way. "Keeping the pests under control," The Corinthian nodded. "Is it how you came to be here," he asked without looking at her, in case such a question should be a sensitive subject, and his mouths would certainly crave a taste of it.