(Untitled)

[perfectblue]

A few minutes after this -- in Bar time, who knows how time is kept in the place from whence she's come -- Illyria enters through the door. She's completely filthy -- most of her blue is obscured by blood of various colors, and none it hers, save a tiny cut on her left cheek just beneath her eye. She'd taken some time to rip the claws out of the

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[weirdwilbur]

"Yew look . . . elatid." Wilbur grins. "Did the machine work, than?"

[perfectblue]

"It did," Illyria pronounces triumphantly.

With a quick shake of her head she looks pristine again, all signs of battle gone. Normally she'd have done that before walking into the Bar, but she'd been in a hurry.

[weirdwilbur]

"Good fer yew.

"Want me ter git yew suthin'? Es a celebration?"

[perfectblue]

Illyria blinks; it's been a long time since someone offered to celebrate her triumph with her.

"If you like," she says, pleasantly.

[thedoctorwho]

The Doctor catches the sight of blue from across the room and makes his way over. He hadn't seen Illyria in quite some time, and was curious how she was getting on.

Caked in gore with a bright expression on her face, though, didn't quite fit his definition of "getting on". Still, she seems content and at ease.

"Did someone have an apocalypse and not invite me?"

[perfectblue]

"Yes. They have only invited Los Angeles thus far," Illyria replies, entirely serious.

A quick shake of her head and she's back to usual pristine appearance. Showering was for lesser creatures.

"Hello, Doctor," she greets him brightly. Well, brightly for Illyria. It's probably a little bit weird, to be honest.

[thedoctorwho]

"Hello, Illyria," he says with a grin at her transformation. "Had a good day, I take it?"

[perfectblue]

"Wesley's re-corporealization was successful, and then there were lesser demons which needed to be killed."

That would be a yes.

[themidnightson]

It's the scent of blood that catches his attention first, causing him to look up from a seat nearby where he was reading. Attention, not thirst; that ws located in only one being now. But the different scents (and colors), with the singular tiny scratch of human blood, did garner intrigue.

Yet she seemed...happy. No, that was wrong. It was more primal. Victorious.

"Are you alright?" It was a sensible beginning to someone covered in blood.

[perfectblue]

"I am always all right," she began, dismissive of the stranger's voice until she turned to see who was addressing her.

She tilted her head, sensing that he was other than human but no demon she had ever encountered.

"What are you?" she asked, taking a few steps closer to investigate.

[themidnightson]

Edward's brow furrowed. His expression no longer passive, was more angular and sharp, but not yet given to inordinate wariness.

"I could ask you the same thing."

[perfectblue]

"You could," she agreed, perfectly cheerfully (for a given value of cheerful.)

A flick of her head, as though a fly had happened across her vision, and then the blood and sense of general dishevelment is gone as though it had never existed.

"But perhaps I will save you the trouble. I am Illyria, and if the name means nothing to you in and of itself then the rest of my titles will only serve to confuse you further."

She's getting bored with the whole god-king, former introduction, to say the least.