Nix Gordon, OC, Barways

[facetsofbethan]

A tall young woman walks into the bar. She's wearing pyjama bottoms and a spaghetti strap top, but her hands are filthy and her bare feet and the ends of her trousers are caked in blood which may or may not be her own and which clashes badly with the pale pink cotton. There are dark circles under her blue eyes, and right now her cobweb of scars

Comments

[manny_moo]

"Tchuh," the man a few seats down tuts. He takes one look at her appearance and nods knowingly.

"We had that problem at the shop once. Creatures everywhere. We had to fumigate to get rid of them. Impervious to your standard rat trap."

[brokensteeldoll]

[OOC: Omg, I love you. Just FYI. :D]

Nix blinks large blue eyes at him over her mug of tea. Milliways. But Bar does some seriously good fried bread, so all is well with her world.

"Vermin infestations suck, don't they?"

[manny_moo]

"Well, they weren't so much vermin as they were mysterious furry creatures. We never did figure out what they were."

Is he... yes, he's actually smiling as he shakes his head with an odd sort of nostalgia.

[brokensteeldoll]

...He's got to be high on something. Probably weed.

"Ours was definitely vermin." And by now extremely in the past tense, and Nix, forking a small mountain of bacon into her mouth, permits herself a small smug smile at a job well-done once she swallows.

"Coulda lived without it happening at 4 in the bleedin' morning, though?" she offers.

[manny_moo]

Actually, Manny is completely sober right now. You really don't want to see him high.

He furrows his brow slightly. "Bazookas?" he asks.

[brokensteeldoll]

"Them, flame throwers, handguns, pistols... you name it. They're seriously ex-problems by now."

[manny_moo]

"Huh. What sort of vermin uses a flame thrower, then?" Manny asks, more than a little confused.

But a bazooka was totally logical.

[brokensteeldoll]

"Nah, that was us."

If it helps, Manny, that's an effect Nix has a lot.

"They were keener on submachine guns and tear gas, as I noticed."

[manny_moo]

"Ah, right." He nods again. "A strategically placed pasty under a Rube Goldberg-esq rig set to drop a very large book from a very great height'll do you wonders, too."

[brokensteeldoll]

She blinks at him for a second.

Suddenly, "You're weird!"

Nix doesn't necessarily disapprove.

[manny_moo]

"Oh, am I?" Manny asks, as though this is new information. "I hadn't really noticed."

[brokensteeldoll]

"Most people don't, when they are," Nix says. "It's always other people who do. Even the weird ones."

[manny_moo]

Somewhere, in the back of his mind right now, there is an angry Irishman yelling about Manny having the manners of a Neanderthal.

"Oh, sorry, I'm Manny," he introduces. "M'from London. Well, Gloucester, originally, but I'm in London now. Well, not right now, but you know what I mean."

[brokensteeldoll]

Nix grins brightly. "Me too."

Beat. "I mean, I'm from London."

Another beat. "I'm Nix."

She offers an extremely grubby hand.

[manny_moo]

Perhaps surprisingly, Manny hardly notices the mess on her hand. He shakes it happily.

"Don't meet a whole lot of Londoners round these parts," Manny observes. "Could have something to do with not really being near London, though."

[brokensteeldoll]

"Not really near anywhere," Nix agrees. "Cool, innit?"