[The bottle? Cassidy lifts his eyebrows toward it, then picks it up and holds it in Matt's direction. He'd always intended to share.
When his hand is free again, he scratches lightly at his own cheek. An idle, self-conscious gesture.]
More like most people don't believe me, even when I do say it out loud to their face. [He crosses his arms.] Blessing and a curse, that — bein' able to hide in plain sight. I mean. I don't go shoutin' it from the rafters, but. Call it an open secret between mates.
[Scoffing under his breath at the answer, Matt took the bottle and held out the pipe and lighter in trade, going to pour himself a glass of it while he had it.]
Your luck is longer reaching then mine, that's for certain. Why do you tell them anyway?
[He'll uncross his arms to accept the trade, and take his first hit right there, leaning against the desk. Soft surfaces can come a bit later, once he's set up with his own glass of whiskey.]
Why? [He blinks through the smoke, still savoring the sweet, oily way it rolls over his tongue and through his nostrils.] Why not?
[...all right, so. The events of the last several days before his arrival here are a pretty solid answer for 'why not.' From the way Cassidy's not meeting Matt's eyes at the moment, he knows it.]
[Matt arched his eyebrows at Cassidy with a glance, turning slightly from his pouring only long enough for it before setting the bottle between them on the desk.]
I see. [He knew what he sounded like - a disapproving father who was keeping his opinions about it to himself, and he hated it. This was the worst subject to have viable experience on and he was no one's father.]
Does it always go the way it went with him? Or do you come out of it sometimes actually whole?
"Oh, it worked out all right, sometimes." Cassidy offered the pipe and lighter back, then poured himself a glass. "Never did it all that often, to be honest. A hundred years, a handful of people... rough estimate, I'd say it didn't end in disaster maybe half the time."
Now he was casting about for something soft to sit on. Ideally, some arrangement where they'd be close enough to share the pipe with minimal moving around.
"Anyway. I think it's the accent that makes people think I'm takin' the piss. You know the Irish, always tellin' tales out of school."
It was a stereotype Cassidy tended to, in turns, despise and leverage to his advantage.
"Mm. The Irish have always been swill and spitfire, inspiring wonder in small children, with their legends and gods, fear in the parents with the ferocity in which they brandished their shillelaghs and farm tools. I blame the Druids, myself, peddling their magic and love so openly to the conservative, dirty, huddled masses." The pipe was taken as he rambled, brain half caught on another line of thinking altogether.
How often had he tried to be friends with anyone who wasn't a vampire? Maurice and Joslin aside, he barely knew any humans anymore beyond the surface level of name, age and drug preference. Matt lit the pipe again with a hum of a sound and held the smoke in, tendrils only just managing to escape with the words.
"No uh.. 'family' to speak of then? Not even the one that turned you?" The smoke was blown out to the side and Matthew glanced around with him.
"Is it theft if the chairs are just in the other room? Fuck it, we'll relocate. It's not like they've got laws against it here." Picking up the small, pre-separated packet of opium to slip in his pocket, Matt grabbed his glass and headed towards the door.
Relocating it was. Cassidy plucked up his own glass along with the bottle. He regretted, a little, leaving the heroin behind. On the other hand, if the opium didn't do a good enough job of locking him to whatever couch they landed on? They could always come back for it.
"The one who turned me?" he asked, scoffing out a humorless laugh at the question. "I barely even saw her face, mate. Or the fact that she was a she. I'm only about eighty percent on that. It was an ambush in the dark of an Irish swamp. I don't even know she meant to do what she did." Since, by the time he'd woken up from being dead, she'd been long gone.
"As for others... well, there is Seamus. But he's back in Ireland. Haven't seen him face-to-face in nearly a century. Just phone calls."
He glanced around as they entered the hallway, making sure there was no one immediately nearby to overhear them.
"Take it you've got some kin of your own back home, then, do ya? One big, happy family?"
They could always come back - Matthew didn't plan on straying too far from his present just yet, greedy and worried that it would vanish if he didn't keep an eye on it.
"Really?" One eye scrunched up in a squint as he glanced over, disgusted by the practice of abandoning fledglings, and he tsked his displeasure at hearing it. "A damned shame."
Snorting at the question, Matt shook his head. "Not anymore. I had a sister once. Pretty and utterly insane. She was damned before I was - a game, between our Sires, and is now, blissfully silent and ash. Needless to say, my Sire and I didn't.. agree. She's not around anymore either."
Reaching the small library that was in their wing, Matt dropped himself down into one of the chairs that had a mate nearby, ambivalent to what his statement may or may not suggest.
Cassidy sank into the chair next to Matt's, placing the bottle between them and draining half the whiskey from his glass in a long, slow swallow, as easy as if it were water. One hit off the pipe had been barely enough to make him feel anything, but there was something there: he could sense it in the way the whiskey had a slightly different bite, how the creamy undertones of its flavor melded with the sweetness of the smoke.
Matt's story of how he'd ended up alone was more in line with what Cassidy expected than some harmonious vampire clan.
"I think it's for the best I was left largely on me own," he said. "Someone who goes around attackin' random fellas in a swamp, I mean, what kind of a role model is that anyway?"
A beat, wherein he blinked off into the distance, and a new thought occurred.
“Now, me natural mum... she was a good soul, she was. Used to take us to the beach on Sunday. All the other poor bastards would be at church; we’d have the run of the place.” His gaze, which had gone distant, then snapped back into the room. “Bet they’ve got swimmin’ here in the summer. That’ll be a plus.”
"The kind that ends you up on a pyre stick or in the sun." He hated that he knew that was the truth but vampires that couldn't control themselves ended up destroying themselves and any vampire that was nearby. Hell, that was the start of their revolution.
"I can't remember the last time I swam in the sun. We didn't have lakes in Southern France, none that anyone would.. picnic to or anything. I couldn't even promise I've even swam as a boy," he said thoughtfully before relighting the pipe and pulling a lungful.
Cassidy rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and lifted his hand, lazily prompting for the pipe whenever Matthew could pass it over.
"Not alone alone." He didn't much like the sound of that. "Got Seamus. Had friends. Fallen in love a few times. But, no, all the bloody vampire stuff, I was left to work it out on me lonesome."
He'd take another hit before he did, grinning as the pipe as set into Cassidy's hand.
"Bad news, that love. The rest is alright. It sounds like your existence hasn't been that bad, that's nice. Good change of pace from my world. Everyone and their mother was wronged by someone else, you'd think, and the Kindred are prissily organized asshats with a superiority complex. This place really must be some kind of vacation paradise for you; it's almost like being alive again..
"Minus the heartbeat," Cassidy mused as he prepared to take his next hit. "...I do still miss that part, sometimes."
Hard to explain. Something about feeling alive.
He took in a long, deep lungful of smoke this time, and followed it up with a couple of smaller puffs for good measure. By the end, his head was wreathed in smoke, and there was a slick feeling in his nostrils and at the back of his throat. Now it'd really start to kick in.
"Fairly peaceful back on Earth, yeah. Other than the occasional rash of vigilante hunters tryin' to chase me down. And honestly, I've no idea how they find me. I was in Vegas, this last time — livin' out a totally normal existence there. Even had a job of sorts. And nobody looks twice if you keep late hours, not in that place. It was bloody perfect. And these wankers, right? They hired me for a bit of sex tourism. Wanted me to take 'em down to Tijuana. Or so I thought. But they start flyin' the plane bloody eastward, don't they? I might've caught on too late if they hadn't left their bonkers-as-hell propaganda where I could stumble across it."
That tale told, he let his head loll against the back of the chair and looked toward Matt across the short space between them.
"That's the only difference," he agreed with a slight bobble of his head.
"Sex tourism," Matt echoed with a laugh. "There's better ways to make money then working for them. I haven't come close to a 'normal' existence since I was alive and even then, the normal is archaic to nearly everyone I meet. Much better, in my opinion, to spend your days building a little empire that will earn you money and spending some of that money on the most beautiful company that one could buy.
There's not much of normal living that I find palatable anymore, but I exist out of those times, nowdays. Is Texas even with the rest of the modern world? I haven't ever been - always kept to the coasts."
"Not this part of Texas," Cassidy said with a snorting laugh. "Bloody hell. They barely even had a Starbucks, d'you know what I mean?"
He contemplated Matt's face — the face he was still learning to associate with not Jesse — while he lowered his hands into his lap. He'd be holding onto the pipe, until such time as Matthew reached for it again.
"You must've had some run-ins with the sort of people who don't take kindly to what we are. Right? Four hundred years." At least. Matt had mentioned the 1600s, so he must have already been of an age in that century. "That's a hell of a long time to escape notice."
Matt scoffed, not doubting Cassidy's word in the slightest. The idea of a place like that existing at all was almost hilarious except he knew it was still true.
Quaint, really.
"Call it five hundred, I'm only a decade off." A dismissive wave of a hand came with it, despite the creeping look of pride in his eyes and the tilt of his smile that faded as he continued.
"Five centuries of knowing my place, is what it was. My world, our vampires, there's a lot of us and we've got our own society. Goes back to the dark ages. The Crusades? A full out offensive attack on the Kindred who thought they had the right to exist in the open, purging our kind in fire and sunlight, and countless humans who dare be accused by others to even know of us. Rules were set in place to protect us. Rules that get you killed if you break."
Matt took a shallow pull from his glass, shaking his head as he adjusted in his seat. It was a dark topic but that was his life. Any vampire's life and Matthew didn't expect or want any sympathy.
"So yes, I have, but I'm not ashamed to say how I handled it. Kill or be killed. A nasty business, cleaning up those messes, and I've been forced to run for my life.." He paused like he was counting and then added with a cheeky grin, "... though some messes involved avoiding the husband of very handsome housewives and high windows. The better times of it all, if you ask me."
He reached out then, gesturing for the pipe.
"Your place in Texas sounds like mine in Arizona. Empty, simple and mostly quiet when some new, passing neighbor kicks up dust?"
There was no pity in Cassidy's expression as he listened, and only a small measure of sympathy. Mostly, there was bemused curiosity. Kindred. Society. Those words in particular alluded to a world that was entirely foreign to him, and that he couldn't help finding suspect. Too many vampires in one place... well, there was a reason he preferred the company of mortals.
The bit about housewives and windows was met with a twitch of a smile, a breaking of the tension. Cassidy leaned forward to pass the pipe over, as silent and casual as Matthew had been in his request.
"You paint an accurate picture there, mate," he said as he sat back again, taking up his whiskey and resting the glass on his knee. "Quiet people livin' their quiet lives. I'll take normal —" His definition of normal, which he'd been quite comfortable with in Vegas, "— but quiet is just a coupla bridges too far. And there I am, expected to lay low in this nowhere of a place. It coulda been torture."
He took a slow sip from his glass, contemplating the various ways he might've gone mad if he hadn't been able to squirrel out the interesting corners of Annville.
"Laying low is only tolerable if you have someplace to 'lay high' at. Paris was always my go to, until I was kicked out. Russia isn't bad either, though there are souls up there that would eat us alive for the fun of it and to stick the finger to the rest of them in principal.
Nice and quiet is a good cover. Too bad there aren't any holes or high ground here to throw ourselves around on. At least for me."
For all the fancy words and societal constructs, the Kindred were only a step above savage and not all of them had even that much. Matthew loved the rough and smooth contrast of them though, it echoed the life they all tried so desperately to recreate.
"No goin' off the grid here." That was the truth. Cassidy settled back with a shifting of his shoulders, head tilted back so he could look up toward the ceiling.
"Or. We're as off the grid as you can go. Bloody fairies."
Fairies and angels and whatever else. Jesus. Cassidy sat with that a moment, until he felt a bubble of humor rising out of the situation.
"Me mother warned me about the aos sí takin' me away. D'you think this is what she meant?"
In the course of the last question, his look of squinting curiosity turned into a grin.
Matt had to laugh at that, shaking his head as he took another pull from the pipe before handing it over.
"Perhaps it is. Though I daresay there's been much more opportune times. I was tidying things up in Russia when they nabbed me - could have used them getting out of the stocks at least once or twice.
For the French, it was never the Fairies. It was the bears from the woods, and the English. Always the damned English," he said with another laugh as he sat back, sighing softly to himself.
"I suppose we should be grateful for the sun alone though, hmm?"
"The damned English," Cassidy echoed with a low laugh. "That's a classic in either accent, is it not?"
He surrounded himself with another thin cloud of smoke while he thought over the gratefulness question.
"The sun, and a few other things." Opium was feeling pretty high up on the list, at the moment. And there was more than just that. Cassidy rolled his head to face Matt, a frown pulling at his lips.
"Matthew." Could he get serious with you, for a moment? "I consider myself as much a gentleman as any boy from Dublin City, which is to say not much of one at all, but. I respect women, right? I don't do nothin' that hasn't been asked for, or I haven't paid for. I don't take advantage. And I understand the circumstances of this place are fairly fucked up, so there's the context for what I'm gettin' at: I'm not certain I've ever so many non-professional women say 'yes' to me in so short a time. And I went to bloody Woodstock!
"Not to mention there's bloody Star Wars characters walkin' about. Place is unbelievable."
Matt chuckled. "It's easy when they've always been assholes."
He stood, hands absently patting himself down before he found a small box of cigarettes, popping it open to pull out one obviously hand-rolled cigarette and sitting down again, rolling the cylinder between his fingers with a hum of attentive acknowledgement.
Of course he could.
The laugh was a slow growing one, starting from his chest and breaking through him with deeper sound as the easy smile spread into a grin.
"You're not exactly an ugly man, mon ami, and we are in the place for it. There are firsts for everyone, I'm sure." Including him.
"Please tell me you met Obi-Wan Kenboi. He was my favorite."
"No. What? No." Cassidy sat forward as abruptly as he could, which was already not all that abruptly, and fixed Matthew with a look of incredulity. "Ben Kenobi is not here. Tell me you're gettin' ready to pull the other one."
...oh. Oh, wait, hang on. Matthew meant that Obi-Wan was his favorite from the movies.
"...unless you haven't seen him either, and you was just askin'. Right." He sat back again with a wave of his hand. "No, no. It was Padmé. Queen Amidala from the bloody prequels. I think I scared her off. Said to meself, I had to draw the line at science-fiction characters. That's too much. But apparently not."
Cassidy knew he'd been here for weeks. His powers of memory retention weren't so shot that he couldn't ground himself in the passage of time. But there were still moments where this almost felt like an ongoing hallucination.
"Although," he went on, leaving the metaphysical questions aside for now, "I will say if Ellen Ripley were to turn up here, you would not hear me complainin'."
"Wha-" Ever easily swayed, Matt couldn't help but perk up a little, running over things in his head in fragments that would do him no good anyway and nodding as Cassidy came around to the right idea, crooked smile lazy in its pull.
"Hey now, if we are drawing lines at Sci-fi, let's not invite Aliens in. I don't even have my sword and I would not want to think about trying to fuck one of those things." Despite the laugh that came with the inflection.
"I'd much rather the disco Valkyrie from Conan. Let's get her."
"Oh, Jesus, no, not the damn aliens," Cassidy returned the laugh with a morbid glee, and moved pipe and lighter into one hand so he could bend down for his glass of whiskey. He drank while considering Matthew's counter-offer.
"Mm. Yes. Good one." Although Ripley had been his first thought, he had to concede that inviting even the concept of those aliens into reality wasn't the best idea. Who else could he conjure up?
"Ooh. No. I've got me choice. Barbarella. Gorgeous, sexually insatiable, hero of the galaxy. There's a get for the fairies." He lifted his glass toward the ceiling. "Hear that? Request made."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-01-02 05:26 pm (UTC)When his hand is free again, he scratches lightly at his own cheek. An idle, self-conscious gesture.]
More like most people don't believe me, even when I do say it out loud to their face. [He crosses his arms.] Blessing and a curse, that — bein' able to hide in plain sight. I mean. I don't go shoutin' it from the rafters, but. Call it an open secret between mates.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-02 05:45 pm (UTC)Your luck is longer reaching then mine, that's for certain. Why do you tell them anyway?
no subject
Date: 2018-01-02 06:08 pm (UTC)Why? [He blinks through the smoke, still savoring the sweet, oily way it rolls over his tongue and through his nostrils.] Why not?
[...all right, so. The events of the last several days before his arrival here are a pretty solid answer for 'why not.' From the way Cassidy's not meeting Matt's eyes at the moment, he knows it.]
Tryin' to make friends, I guess.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-02 06:39 pm (UTC)I see. [He knew what he sounded like - a disapproving father who was keeping his opinions about it to himself, and he hated it. This was the worst subject to have viable experience on and he was no one's father.]
Does it always go the way it went with him? Or do you come out of it sometimes actually whole?
might as well go prose.
Date: 2018-01-02 07:10 pm (UTC)Now he was casting about for something soft to sit on. Ideally, some arrangement where they'd be close enough to share the pipe with minimal moving around.
"Anyway. I think it's the accent that makes people think I'm takin' the piss. You know the Irish, always tellin' tales out of school."
It was a stereotype Cassidy tended to, in turns, despise and leverage to his advantage.
I'm easy.
Date: 2018-01-02 09:27 pm (UTC)How often had he tried to be friends with anyone who wasn't a vampire? Maurice and Joslin aside, he barely knew any humans anymore beyond the surface level of name, age and drug preference. Matt lit the pipe again with a hum of a sound and held the smoke in, tendrils only just managing to escape with the words.
"No uh.. 'family' to speak of then? Not even the one that turned you?" The smoke was blown out to the side and Matthew glanced around with him.
"Is it theft if the chairs are just in the other room? Fuck it, we'll relocate. It's not like they've got laws against it here." Picking up the small, pre-separated packet of opium to slip in his pocket, Matt grabbed his glass and headed towards the door.
hey-o.
Date: 2018-01-02 10:21 pm (UTC)"The one who turned me?" he asked, scoffing out a humorless laugh at the question. "I barely even saw her face, mate. Or the fact that she was a she. I'm only about eighty percent on that. It was an ambush in the dark of an Irish swamp. I don't even know she meant to do what she did." Since, by the time he'd woken up from being dead, she'd been long gone.
"As for others... well, there is Seamus. But he's back in Ireland. Haven't seen him face-to-face in nearly a century. Just phone calls."
He glanced around as they entered the hallway, making sure there was no one immediately nearby to overhear them.
"Take it you've got some kin of your own back home, then, do ya? One big, happy family?"
no subject
Date: 2018-01-04 02:02 am (UTC)"Really?" One eye scrunched up in a squint as he glanced over, disgusted by the practice of abandoning fledglings, and he tsked his displeasure at hearing it. "A damned shame."
Snorting at the question, Matt shook his head. "Not anymore. I had a sister once. Pretty and utterly insane. She was damned before I was - a game, between our Sires, and is now, blissfully silent and ash. Needless to say, my Sire and I didn't.. agree. She's not around anymore either."
Reaching the small library that was in their wing, Matt dropped himself down into one of the chairs that had a mate nearby, ambivalent to what his statement may or may not suggest.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-04 04:25 pm (UTC)Matt's story of how he'd ended up alone was more in line with what Cassidy expected than some harmonious vampire clan.
"I think it's for the best I was left largely on me own," he said. "Someone who goes around attackin' random fellas in a swamp, I mean, what kind of a role model is that anyway?"
A beat, wherein he blinked off into the distance, and a new thought occurred.
“Now, me natural mum... she was a good soul, she was. Used to take us to the beach on Sunday. All the other poor bastards would be at church; we’d have the run of the place.” His gaze, which had gone distant, then snapped back into the room. “Bet they’ve got swimmin’ here in the summer. That’ll be a plus.”
no subject
Date: 2018-01-06 04:46 pm (UTC)"I can't remember the last time I swam in the sun. We didn't have lakes in Southern France, none that anyone would.. picnic to or anything. I couldn't even promise I've even swam as a boy," he said thoughtfully before relighting the pipe and pulling a lungful.
"You been alone the whole way then?"
no subject
Date: 2018-01-07 07:08 pm (UTC)"Not alone alone." He didn't much like the sound of that. "Got Seamus. Had friends. Fallen in love a few times. But, no, all the bloody vampire stuff, I was left to work it out on me lonesome."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-08 09:06 pm (UTC)"Bad news, that love. The rest is alright. It sounds like your existence hasn't been that bad, that's nice. Good change of pace from my world. Everyone and their mother was wronged by someone else, you'd think, and the Kindred are prissily organized asshats with a superiority complex. This place really must be some kind of vacation paradise for you; it's almost like being alive again..
Almost."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-08 10:10 pm (UTC)Hard to explain. Something about feeling alive.
He took in a long, deep lungful of smoke this time, and followed it up with a couple of smaller puffs for good measure. By the end, his head was wreathed in smoke, and there was a slick feeling in his nostrils and at the back of his throat. Now it'd really start to kick in.
"Fairly peaceful back on Earth, yeah. Other than the occasional rash of vigilante hunters tryin' to chase me down. And honestly, I've no idea how they find me. I was in Vegas, this last time — livin' out a totally normal existence there. Even had a job of sorts. And nobody looks twice if you keep late hours, not in that place. It was bloody perfect. And these wankers, right? They hired me for a bit of sex tourism. Wanted me to take 'em down to Tijuana. Or so I thought. But they start flyin' the plane bloody eastward, don't they? I might've caught on too late if they hadn't left their bonkers-as-hell propaganda where I could stumble across it."
That tale told, he let his head loll against the back of the chair and looked toward Matt across the short space between them.
"Anyways, that is how I ended up in Texas."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-09 07:18 pm (UTC)"Sex tourism," Matt echoed with a laugh. "There's better ways to make money then working for them. I haven't come close to a 'normal' existence since I was alive and even then, the normal is archaic to nearly everyone I meet. Much better, in my opinion, to spend your days building a little empire that will earn you money and spending some of that money on the most beautiful company that one could buy.
There's not much of normal living that I find palatable anymore, but I exist out of those times, nowdays. Is Texas even with the rest of the modern world? I haven't ever been - always kept to the coasts."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-09 10:15 pm (UTC)He contemplated Matt's face — the face he was still learning to associate with not Jesse — while he lowered his hands into his lap. He'd be holding onto the pipe, until such time as Matthew reached for it again.
"You must've had some run-ins with the sort of people who don't take kindly to what we are. Right? Four hundred years." At least. Matt had mentioned the 1600s, so he must have already been of an age in that century. "That's a hell of a long time to escape notice."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-10 01:55 am (UTC)Quaint, really.
"Call it five hundred, I'm only a decade off." A dismissive wave of a hand came with it, despite the creeping look of pride in his eyes and the tilt of his smile that faded as he continued.
"Five centuries of knowing my place, is what it was. My world, our vampires, there's a lot of us and we've got our own society. Goes back to the dark ages. The Crusades? A full out offensive attack on the Kindred who thought they had the right to exist in the open, purging our kind in fire and sunlight, and countless humans who dare be accused by others to even know of us. Rules were set in place to protect us. Rules that get you killed if you break."
Matt took a shallow pull from his glass, shaking his head as he adjusted in his seat. It was a dark topic but that was his life. Any vampire's life and Matthew didn't expect or want any sympathy.
"So yes, I have, but I'm not ashamed to say how I handled it. Kill or be killed. A nasty business, cleaning up those messes, and I've been forced to run for my life.." He paused like he was counting and then added with a cheeky grin, "... though some messes involved avoiding the husband of very handsome housewives and high windows. The better times of it all, if you ask me."
He reached out then, gesturing for the pipe.
"Your place in Texas sounds like mine in Arizona. Empty, simple and mostly quiet when some new, passing neighbor kicks up dust?"
no subject
Date: 2018-01-10 04:01 pm (UTC)The bit about housewives and windows was met with a twitch of a smile, a breaking of the tension. Cassidy leaned forward to pass the pipe over, as silent and casual as Matthew had been in his request.
"You paint an accurate picture there, mate," he said as he sat back again, taking up his whiskey and resting the glass on his knee. "Quiet people livin' their quiet lives. I'll take normal —" His definition of normal, which he'd been quite comfortable with in Vegas, "— but quiet is just a coupla bridges too far. And there I am, expected to lay low in this nowhere of a place. It coulda been torture."
He took a slow sip from his glass, contemplating the various ways he might've gone mad if he hadn't been able to squirrel out the interesting corners of Annville.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-19 06:33 pm (UTC)Nice and quiet is a good cover. Too bad there aren't any holes or high ground here to throw ourselves around on. At least for me."
For all the fancy words and societal constructs, the Kindred were only a step above savage and not all of them had even that much. Matthew loved the rough and smooth contrast of them though, it echoed the life they all tried so desperately to recreate.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-20 04:14 am (UTC)"Or. We're as off the grid as you can go. Bloody fairies."
Fairies and angels and whatever else. Jesus. Cassidy sat with that a moment, until he felt a bubble of humor rising out of the situation.
"Me mother warned me about the aos sí takin' me away. D'you think this is what she meant?"
In the course of the last question, his look of squinting curiosity turned into a grin.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-20 11:20 pm (UTC)"Perhaps it is. Though I daresay there's been much more opportune times. I was tidying things up in Russia when they nabbed me - could have used them getting out of the stocks at least once or twice.
For the French, it was never the Fairies. It was the bears from the woods, and the English. Always the damned English," he said with another laugh as he sat back, sighing softly to himself.
"I suppose we should be grateful for the sun alone though, hmm?"
no subject
Date: 2018-01-21 05:32 am (UTC)He surrounded himself with another thin cloud of smoke while he thought over the gratefulness question.
"The sun, and a few other things." Opium was feeling pretty high up on the list, at the moment. And there was more than just that. Cassidy rolled his head to face Matt, a frown pulling at his lips.
"Matthew." Could he get serious with you, for a moment? "I consider myself as much a gentleman as any boy from Dublin City, which is to say not much of one at all, but. I respect women, right? I don't do nothin' that hasn't been asked for, or I haven't paid for. I don't take advantage. And I understand the circumstances of this place are fairly fucked up, so there's the context for what I'm gettin' at: I'm not certain I've ever so many non-professional women say 'yes' to me in so short a time. And I went to bloody Woodstock!
"Not to mention there's bloody Star Wars characters walkin' about. Place is unbelievable."
no subject
Date: 2018-01-22 10:39 pm (UTC)He stood, hands absently patting himself down before he found a small box of cigarettes, popping it open to pull out one obviously hand-rolled cigarette and sitting down again, rolling the cylinder between his fingers with a hum of attentive acknowledgement.
Of course he could.
The laugh was a slow growing one, starting from his chest and breaking through him with deeper sound as the easy smile spread into a grin.
"You're not exactly an ugly man, mon ami, and we are in the place for it. There are firsts for everyone, I'm sure." Including him.
"Please tell me you met Obi-Wan Kenboi. He was my favorite."
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Date: 2018-01-22 11:04 pm (UTC)...oh. Oh, wait, hang on. Matthew meant that Obi-Wan was his favorite from the movies.
"...unless you haven't seen him either, and you was just askin'. Right." He sat back again with a wave of his hand. "No, no. It was Padmé. Queen Amidala from the bloody prequels. I think I scared her off. Said to meself, I had to draw the line at science-fiction characters. That's too much. But apparently not."
Cassidy knew he'd been here for weeks. His powers of memory retention weren't so shot that he couldn't ground himself in the passage of time. But there were still moments where this almost felt like an ongoing hallucination.
"Although," he went on, leaving the metaphysical questions aside for now, "I will say if Ellen Ripley were to turn up here, you would not hear me complainin'."
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Date: 2018-01-23 01:34 am (UTC)"Hey now, if we are drawing lines at Sci-fi, let's not invite Aliens in. I don't even have my sword and I would not want to think about trying to fuck one of those things." Despite the laugh that came with the inflection.
"I'd much rather the disco Valkyrie from Conan. Let's get her."
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Date: 2018-01-23 04:13 pm (UTC)"Mm. Yes. Good one." Although Ripley had been his first thought, he had to concede that inviting even the concept of those aliens into reality wasn't the best idea. Who else could he conjure up?
"Ooh. No. I've got me choice. Barbarella. Gorgeous, sexually insatiable, hero of the galaxy. There's a get for the fairies." He lifted his glass toward the ceiling. "Hear that? Request made."
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