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]

"Meeting you was a coincidence but you're too complex to be a trick," unless she was crafted with diamond precision in which case Scarab would be a most sophisticated trap. "Anyway I don't get that from you, you take out that bloody ticking," The Corinthian shook his head, trying not to mention the traces of emotion he felt from her lest she accuse him of prying like a telepath.

He lifted his chin to take another sip from the already half emptied glass then folded both arms across the bartop. "Yeah, my home world, it kind of looks like this place, always rearranging, but none of that clock shit," the white-blond shook his head. "I think I've even seen some of these people pass through before."

The Corinthian looked to Scarab again. "I lived in the castle with My Lord, then I moved to nightmare, which looks nothing like this."

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

" Ya. The ticking goes away when your near someone."
She took a drink, no longer concerned with her intake, because the sharp edges were gone, and she felt much more comfortable with this direction of the conversation.

" If your in a crowd it will die down some, but talking to someone like we are now will make it go away entirely.", She shrugged," Something to do with hearing only your thoughts when your by yourself, I think."

Her cigar was pretty well gone at this point, so she tapped another out, and took a quick inventory before offerring one to Alex.

" Do you mean you've seen people with the ability to travel between worlds, or are we talking something even wierder?"
The whole idea of jumping from one reality to the next wasn't as difficult a concept now that she had spent a little time in the city, but the mechanics of how it worked was still completely foriegn.

" Moved to nightmare.." she echoed a little stupidly.
Correction: the mechanics weren't just foreign, they were fucking nuts.

" You moved into a nightmare?", she smirked, " I can relate to that."

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

"I tried the first one, blending in with the crowd," he nodded, and wasn't it funny that in this city's crowd, all he had to do was put on his shades to appear more normal than the rest of them. His hair color was a bit unusual but so were the blues, pinks, and purples that littered the world. Maybe his normalcy even worked against him.

He gestured 'no thanks' to Scarab, cigars just weren't really his thing the nightmare concluded, and the scotch was doing its job far better.

"Yeah, I have. I do know people who can travel between worlds, myself included I guess," he rubbed the back of his neck then shrugged the heavy leather jacket off his bare shoulders and folded it over his lap. Not bad looking for a man who often trolled the gutters and rubbed elbows with the dregs of society, on the job that is. Off work he spent his time having conversations with ladies (and men) in bars, or exploring the neverending great library, or hiding out in his citadel.

"No, I moved to nightmare. The dreaming..." he thought about how to explain this to Scarab, swirling the scotch in the glass. "It's the place you go to when you sleep, when you dream. It's everywhere, no fucking borders, endless," The Corinthian shook his head, turning his thoughts inward briefly when he said the E word.

"Nightmare's outside of the main 'city' if you want to call it that, nightmare is what I am," he said to her, putting it bluntly, though not as bluntly as Jan would have it; the bogeyman and all that. "The thing you're afraid of, the guilt that eats at you when you sleep, that's my job."

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

Scarab fell quiet for a few minutes.

Her dreams had been anything but pleasant lately, and somehow the sense of deja vu' was beggining to make sense.
She studied Alex critically, and wondered if he actually took pleasure in tormenting people in thier sleep.

...But he just didn't seem that cold?

She sighed a little, and decided that it must be a similar dynamic to her own: She killed, but took no pleasure in the act. She was a killer because she was good at it, because she had been made that way.

Maybe it was stupid to think of it that way, but Scarab liked Alex well enough, so it must just be a job:
Something he was good at, and what he was made for.

" Then that must be how I know you," she mused, her cordial tone and demeanor restored, " My dreams have been anything but pleasant lately."

She took the last half of her current cup in a single shot. This was definately not a conversation to have while sober.