She was safe, she was warm, and the whole situation was very much like being asleep. And then with an abrupt pop!, Arya Stark was salty and buttery and very much wide awake
( Read more... )
On his way back to the Ravenclaw Bar, Methos paused. "..name's Titus Pullo." He knew that voice! Rounding the corner he came to a halt to see his old friend very much alive, and sporting a wildly colorful shirt. Swearing colorfully in Latin, he strode into the room with a laugh.
Pullo turned his head towards the sound of the voice, which was oddly familiar, though he thought sounded much more familiar while swearing in proper Latin instead of speaking this English cac. "Who--?" And then he grinned widely, recognition dawning. "Methos? Gerrae, what are you doing in this Jupiter-forsaken place?"
Still laughing, Methos reached out to clasp his forearm and hug him with the other. "I could ask you the same thing, old friend. I woke up here myself just a few days ago," he said, indicating the popcorn room. "Gods! How long have you been here?"
Pullo laughed and returned the gesture. "You've been in here the whole time, and I didn't know it? I must be getting soft. I've been here for... maybe two years now, I think. But I can't stay tied down to one place, me. You know there's not even a good brothel here? Reminds me, have you ever heard of a place called 'Amsterdam', or 'Nevada'? Some good brothels there, let me tell you."
"Yes, yes, I know. Always on the move and always looking for the next good brothel. If I was here two years ago, damned if I can remember it. I hear it's a side effect of.." he waved vaguely at the popcorn room.
Methos smiled, "I've been to both of them. Amsterdam is a hell of a good place. Not as fun as that one you found on the Aventine though."
"Of the popcorn, yes. I've seen it happen a few times since I've been here. Sometimes they remember, and sometimes..." He gestured vaguely. "Well, there you go."
He smiled wistfully. "Ah, but nothing is, now, is it? Everything's changed."
"Ah, the women." Pullo sighed happily. "Beer? Don't tell me you like that swill. Barbarian drink, it is." Even after two years here, Pullo hadn't acclimated to that particular aspect of life.
"Now, Vegas, there's a place. Hot and dry as Egypt on a bad day, but ah, Hermes, the people and gambling... I never thought I'd see a place more crowded than Rome, but there it is. Whores aplenty. Wine on the house as long as I kept gambling... tell me, Methos, have you ever heard of 'Texas Hold 'em'?"
He chuckled, the familiarity of their argument a welcome reminder of their time together as soldiers. “Then call me a happy barbarian because it’s only gotten better over the centuries.”
“Vegas is a hell of a place,” he agreed. “Women, booze and gambling, all a man really needs most days. You played poker, eh? Win anything?"
((Apologies for the wait, it's been a busy week!))
Pullo pulled a face, laughing nonetheless. "German piss, that's what it is," he insisted.
"Oh yeah. I mean, mostly. Enough to stay for a long time, anyway. But," he said, adjusting his bag, "then I got the itch to come back again, you know how it is. Besides, I've got the young master to look after. Who knows what he's been up to without me?" he asked, eyes twinkling. Doubtless he'd been fine, clever young lad that he was, but Pullo couldn't help feeling a little protective sometimes.
"I'm sure the bar over in Ravenclaw has some wine for your more refined Roman taste," he said with a laugh.
"Yeah, I know how it is." Methos paused, searching his memory. "Hera's tits, Octavian is here too?" He had never met the young man, but he remembered the stories Pullo had told him of the man who would eventually rule all of Rome.
"He is," Pullo said, nodding. "Younger than he was last I saw him before Hogwarts, though. Odd. Very odd. But it's about the course for this place, isn't it?"
“Just about. This place seems to call people from across different times. Damned if I can figure out the reason, but there you are.” Methos neglected to mention that he had been called to the school recently, as compared to Pullo being called to the school across more than a thousand years. Of course Pullo adapted well, he always did.
“What about Vorenus? Last time I saw him he was headed into Egypt with Antony.”
"I've noticed," he said dryly. "Vorenus... he took a wound in Egypt." Pullo's face became much less jovial, almost guarded. "Made it back to Rome, though. Got to say his piece to his daughters."
His own smile faded. “Ah damn. I’m sorry, my friend. Vorenus was a good man, and a damn fine soldier.” A bit conflicted, but Methos had grown to respect the man when he was part of the Thirteenth.
“Look, why don’t you get settled and meet me over in the Ravenclaw bar? We’ll open a few good bottles of wine and drink to his memory.”
"..name's Titus Pullo."
He knew that voice! Rounding the corner he came to a halt to see his old friend very much alive, and sporting a wildly colorful shirt. Swearing colorfully in Latin, he strode into the room with a laugh.
"Titus Pullo, I'll be damned!"
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"I could ask you the same thing, old friend. I woke up here myself just a few days ago," he said, indicating the popcorn room. "Gods! How long have you been here?"
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Methos smiled, "I've been to both of them. Amsterdam is a hell of a good place. Not as fun as that one you found on the Aventine though."
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He smiled wistfully. "Ah, but nothing is, now, is it? Everything's changed."
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“Cheer up, my friend. It’s changed, but some of those changes are for the better. Better wine, women, and much better beer. So how was Vegas?”
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"Now, Vegas, there's a place. Hot and dry as Egypt on a bad day, but ah, Hermes, the people and gambling... I never thought I'd see a place more crowded than Rome, but there it is. Whores aplenty. Wine on the house as long as I kept gambling... tell me, Methos, have you ever heard of 'Texas Hold 'em'?"
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“Vegas is a hell of a place,” he agreed. “Women, booze and gambling, all a man really needs most days. You played poker, eh? Win anything?"
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Pullo pulled a face, laughing nonetheless. "German piss, that's what it is," he insisted.
"Oh yeah. I mean, mostly. Enough to stay for a long time, anyway. But," he said, adjusting his bag, "then I got the itch to come back again, you know how it is. Besides, I've got the young master to look after. Who knows what he's been up to without me?" he asked, eyes twinkling. Doubtless he'd been fine, clever young lad that he was, but Pullo couldn't help feeling a little protective sometimes.
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"Yeah, I know how it is." Methos paused, searching his memory. "Hera's tits, Octavian is here too?" He had never met the young man, but he remembered the stories Pullo had told him of the man who would eventually rule all of Rome.
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“What about Vorenus? Last time I saw him he was headed into Egypt with Antony.”
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“Look, why don’t you get settled and meet me over in the Ravenclaw bar? We’ll open a few good bottles of wine and drink to his memory.”
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