~You either do it or don t waste my time~

Hey now, Hey now,
Don't dream it's over

She smiled as he looked and as he spoke, her eyes never leaving his face, watching him with a smirk Strongest thing you have? She sat pretty, a smile on her face, no one would ever know that she held the fate of mankind in the palm of her hand, she seemed like a simple pretty face that in the right situation would be a young boy's wet dream posed in a magazine.

Now I'm walking again to the beat of a drum
And I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart

Raindogs howl for the century
A million dollars a stake
As you search for your demi-god
And you fake with a saint

~She smiled and nodded a little adjusting her position and the smile to be soft but broad as if she knew more of this world than most.~ Good to hear..then again a place like this it's almost expected...~She watched as he walked about, the cozy pub seemed to be just what she was looking for~

There's no sex in your violence
There's no sex in your violence
Try to see it once my way
Everything zen

Drift among the faithful,
Bury your desires.


He moved easily enough, a young man healthy, well muscled...and in his prime. They say a man's life is shorter than the female of the species because of the challenge and energy it takes to "win a mate." Maybe it was true, maybe it was a lie. He and his siblings had never had difficulty finding a willing woman, no difficulties finding a mate....now finding a decent mate, now that proved to be more of a complication. He'd been the only one "stupid" enough to fall for the wiles of a likely candidate just to find out he'd willingly chew of his own legs and crawl away just to get her to go away. No, HE had to choose a blood sucking leech that wouldn't let go of him that easily until she drove him mad and to the point of preferring his own company than risking another Medusa that close to him. But his thoughts were his own; dark, jaded and always there. There was no external hint to his internal dilemma. Grabbing two shot glasses before reaching under the counter to reverently withdraw the 'green fairy' from her hiding. Setting the glasses on the bar between them he wasn't hesitating to pour for both of them. Quickly capping the precious bottle. He was preparing it the "old" way. The moment the actual liquor was in the glasses, he was moving...actually starting to whistle a more subdued version of 'are you sleeping maggie' rehiding the bottle before moving further down the bar. He was having to dig through a bit of boxes before he was coming up with the slotted spoons, a small container of sugar cubes, and lastly a small carafe he filled with fresh cold water. Quickly settling the spoons upon the glasses he wasn't hesitating to pluck up two sugar cubes putting them gently on the spoon before pouring just enough water to dissolve the sugar quickly sliding her glass closer to her. He promptly grasped the handle of his own spoon, stirring the drink...once, twice, three times...just enough to help open up the flavors and aromas...for it to "bloom" toasting her silently before draining his

Aberrations fill your head,
You need a place to hide

I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go
Walkin' with a dead man over my shoulder

Waiting for an invitation to arrive
Goin' to a party where no one's still alive

She smiled a little as he prepared the glasses of old poison that hadn't graced her lips since the bohemian revolution. It was interesting to see all of the wonderous events that took place in this world as they happened but there was only so much that could be said about love and the lack thereof. She left his thoughts alone, he looked like a man who didn't have a hard time with the ladies..then again..she didn't let herself do anything but watch mortal romances. Getting involved with a mortal was torture...they died so soon..she knew this. It happened to her brother. It was best to leave well enough alone...right? Her face took on that lonely look of one who spent life alone easily..it was hard to believe in such a beautiful specimen of the female persuasion.

I was struck by lighting
Walkin' down the street
I was hit by something last night in my sleep
It's a dead man's party
Who could ask for more
Everybody's comin', leave your body at the door
Leave your body and soul at the door . . .
(Don't run away it's only me)

I never wanna hear another love poem
proclaiming all your love in truth there was none

That was his problem, he'd never had problems with the ladies and though he'd never caused harm or grief, had never demanded more than any of them gave willingly; he had found himself ensnared and to this day he still felt as though he was sinking in quicksand wondering when the end was coming. Praying it was coming soon because he wasn't sure he could take much more.

Like two kindred spirits, both choosing a solitary existence in this life, or at least his lifespan, because it was easier. He'd never have to worry about another grubbing bitch...and she wouldn't have to worry about watching the brief flame of a human lifespan flash by then snuff out like a candle blown out. By far he was NOT the sociable bartender. He'd stand and listen but he wasn't the type that would start conversation...at least not with a female that wasn't kin. But before his mood could truly become black his cellphone was suddenly ringing. He wasn't hesitating to be "rude" enough to retrieve it where it'd laid neath the bartop taking one look at the caller id, the tension was there...the gathering blackness that was his mood most days. But yet, despite the fact whoever was calling was the backbone of his hatred he was moving towards the sink area, flipping the phone open he never once put it to his ear. Oh no, he was stopping infront of the sink, flipping a switch to turn on the garbage disposal before dropping the phone. The moment it hit those hungry blade he looked like a boy in a candy store. Intrigued at first before down right amused.

Ian was NOT what many people expected of a highland scot. Unlike his brothers he was closer to being blonde. But who expected a Laird of a scottish clan to...look so young or so much like....a punk. With his hair mussed, the piercings, the slight beard covering cheek and chin...and the hint of tattoos laid hidden beneath a white t-shirt. It was never until he opened his mouth that people got the shock of his heritage. A nice strong scottish brogue no different than his siblings. I hope ye be getting satisfaction o' destroying a wee phone eyeing Tav and the boish glee he was getting out of dropping the phone down the garbage disposal. But Ian was moving to the bar area, setting down a box of wine eyes sliding to Myr and the makings of Absinthe Good morrow lass glancing over his shoulder at Tav I hope ye ha' only one

Tav smirked leaving the garbage disposal on a few minutes longer than necessary oh aye, very satisfactory. Only 1, Ian, dinna be getting your bracs [pants] in a bind

I know it’s like I'm bitter and I don’t give a shit
I hope you’re really happy and you choke on it