(Untitled)

[steamologist]

WHO: steamologist and notquiteidol.
WHERE: The Pound & Pence pub.
WHEN: Saturday night.
WARNINGS: Foul-mouthed psychics and stuff.
SUMMARY: Going for a drink.
FORMAT: Quicklog.

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[notquiteidol]

[He finds the pub with ease, pushing open the door with one hand while finishing a cigarette with the other. Taking a quick look around the room, he finds K.K. immediately, dropping down into the chair beside it without even a greeting.]

[Where he managed to scrounge up a leather duster and boots in the space of a few days is probably a good question.]

What're we drinking?

[steamologist]

[ She glances his way, recognizes him, and doesn't say hello herself either. Nice English folks. Instead, she glances at her glass, maybe vaguely annoyed that she has to try and remember what it's in it. Ah. ]

London Porter. [ A pause, then K.K. eyes him a second. With mild dryness: ] Are you really a vampire, then? You don't look like much of one. Except for the coat maybe.

[notquiteidol]

[The answer earns her an appreciative look and he orders the same. It quickly turns into something like annoyance. His expression doesn't change, but his features shift and he grins, exposing his teeth. No, maybe not your typical vampire, but it's enough to make the bartender look about ready to shit himself when he brings over Spike's drink.]

Look like enough of one now?

[steamologist]

[ She seems surprised for a half-second -- eyes widening, tension in the shoulders just a bit -- but she's K.K., and she's crazy, so it doesn't seem to actually scare her all that much. At length, she lets her posture relax, and she answers a touch wryly: ]

Nice teeth. All the better to bite you with, I suppose.

[notquiteidol]

[The fact that she doesn't freak out earns her a lot more respect than she thinks. Taking a drink, he lets his features relax back to human.]

I'm the one that usually does the biting, yeah.

[steamologist]

[ It's hard to be afraid of much once you've helped bring around the apocalypse. And found out you're practically immortal. Not that she wasn't reckless and a little short on sanity to begin with. The woman flies a homemade flying motorcycle, after all.

She swallows a mouthful of London Porter before responding, mildly: ]

But you can still appreciate a cold pint. I think I can appreciate that kind of vampire. [ A pause. ] How long you been alive then?

[notquiteidol]

[Geez, these two have a lot in common. Except for flying motorcycles. He's gonna have to find out who to pay and/or torture for one of those.]

[He grins.]

Longer than you've been alive, I bet.

[steamologist]

Probably. I'm only twenty-three. Betting I'll be alive a lot fucking longer though. You know me and the others can survive having our bloody brains blown out?

[ She says this conversationally. Maybe it's the company. Maybe she's just always like that. ]

Don't know if I really want to be alive forever though. Seems like a right bleeding pain in the arse.

[notquiteidol]

I've met demons like that. Blow their head right off and it just grows back.

[He actually sounds quite enthusiastic about it. Might just be the amusement at being able to get away with blowing someone's brain out.]

Just got to look at living a bit differently then. Watch how it changes instead of thinking about why it stays the same. You either get used to it or you wind up finding a way to kill yourself.

[steamologist]

[ She laughs. She has a loud, abrupt, and rather unladylike laugh that shows her teeth. ]

Wouldn't work. I only get stronger every time I die. It opens up the package more. I can already blow things up with my mind. Takes about as much effort as scratching my bum. Built a flying motorcycle from junk parts just thinking about it.

[ An exhale. ] But I'm shite at everything but being a freak. That's the bloody irony, isn't it?

[notquiteidol]

You're a right interesting woman, aren't you?

[He doesn't mind the laugh. After hanging around Dru all the time, he can handle anything.]

About how human does that make you?

[steamologist]

I think the proper phrase is "utterly mad," but "interesting" is the nice way of putting it, yeah, I suppose so.

[ She absently tilts her mug back and forth, watching the liquid inside sway. ]

My mum and dad were normal. It was something about the time I was born, the tilt of the planets or some stupid shite like that. I didn't ask for the package, and I certainly wasn't bloody bitten or anything. [ K.K. glances up, pointedly. Her eyes are a startling violet, and there's something endless about her stare. ] I think I'm human. But I don't know many immortal humans with the power to end the world either.

[notquiteidol]

[He considers her, expression still fairly mild, though he's slowly absorbing the information she's providing. The end of the world bit especially catches his attention. Whether or not she's human or the result of a couple of scientists mucking about in a lab isn't important. She is.]

[Or whatever it is she could be capable of doing.]

Hope you never have to use those powers.