starwardexplorer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starwardexplorer) wrote2024-09-11 04:52 pm
starwardexplorer) wrote2024-09-11 04:52 pm
Entry tags:
ashes and wine
[ The beautiful dream is well and truly over, shattered beyond repair, and as much as Himeko believes they did the right thing, it will always be a bittersweet victory for her for so many reasons.
That evening, she'd reached for Welt's hand instinctively, remembering too late that they were back in reality, that the person who had returned her affections in Sunday's smoke-and-mirror dreamscape had been little more than a construct, a figment of her own imagination crafted to keep her complacent. She made some excuse about lint on his sleeve when he jolted a little at her touch, then retreated. Himeko is the Express' navigator--this is her train now--and she can't abide the thought of her crewmates pitying her for inability to put her childish wishes to bed.
She hurries through the passenger cars, heels clicking softly on the carpeted floors. The door connecting to the dining car glides open, and she freezes in the warm, ambient light for a few seconds before slowly approaching the bar and taking a seat. Her elbows rest on the mahogany bar, and she folds her fingers together, resting her chin on dainty knuckles. ]
New passengers typically have to present their passes to the conductor upon boarding, but in this case... I'll allow it. [ A brief pause. ] We all drank in your honor, you know. I don't suppose you'd pour a drink for me now?
That evening, she'd reached for Welt's hand instinctively, remembering too late that they were back in reality, that the person who had returned her affections in Sunday's smoke-and-mirror dreamscape had been little more than a construct, a figment of her own imagination crafted to keep her complacent. She made some excuse about lint on his sleeve when he jolted a little at her touch, then retreated. Himeko is the Express' navigator--this is her train now--and she can't abide the thought of her crewmates pitying her for inability to put her childish wishes to bed.
She hurries through the passenger cars, heels clicking softly on the carpeted floors. The door connecting to the dining car glides open, and she freezes in the warm, ambient light for a few seconds before slowly approaching the bar and taking a seat. Her elbows rest on the mahogany bar, and she folds her fingers together, resting her chin on dainty knuckles. ]
New passengers typically have to present their passes to the conductor upon boarding, but in this case... I'll allow it. [ A brief pause. ] We all drank in your honor, you know. I don't suppose you'd pour a drink for me now?
no subject
If she's curious about him, he's curious about her, too. What's the esteemed leader of the Astral Express doing in a bar? Her bar, to be exact, which helps. When you pilot a train across the cosmos, you're entitled to a drink or two. It's why Gallagher rolls up his sleeves and simply says: )
Yes, Ma'am.
( She can watch; he won't disappear. Eyes on him won't cause him to falter, either. He hands are steady as he goes about making a drink infused with love, passion, and caffeine. )
Why, Miss Himeko, I'd hate to impose.
( As if his very presence isn't some kind of imposition on the realm of the living. Still, he smiles to himself. This is what his creator was all about, the world he so desperately longed to return to. This should feel like a homecoming, seeing the Express for himself.
He slides her drink across the counter, leaning a palm against the nice, smooth bar top. The coffee beans drifting languidly at the center of the glass are in the shape of a paw print. )
How's this for feeling good?
no subject
[ Dan Heng sleeps on the floor of the archives, after all. Who is she to tell Gallagher that he can't occupy whatever space most suits him? Maybe a room isn't necessary for someone like him--whatever it is that he is. Maybe she's just imagining him.
The martini glass in her hand feels real, though. It tastes real when she takes a delicate sip. It's strong and sweet and creamy, the bitterness of the coffee and the burn of the alcohol concealed by the other ingredients. ]
Delicious. [ Then she gestures back to all the neatly-organized bottles. ] Why don't you pour something for yourself and join me? I'm not paying you to be on the clock.