Off to the bar

[burnburnburn]

Who: Dilandau Albatou, Ellen Harville
Where: The bar
When: Evening of 93
Why: Foreign measurements are hard to grasp. Thankfully, Ellen has the tools


Normally, Dilandau would never have entertained the idea of swapping blood with a vampire. It sounded like a messy, nauseous and dangerous proposition. However, given the conditions they were living in, he felt far too vulnerable to remain too injured to even hunt for nearly another Moon. Better to take a risk at getting better than to endure the certainty of a slow healing.

However, Mina had asked for the payment in pints. He'd seen pint glasses in the bar, so knew it was a volume measurement, but he had only the faintest grasp on how large they actually were. This was one of the things he hated about living among all these otherworldly demons, their insistence on using senseless measurements for length and weight and time (seriously, feet? Or worse, minutes? Miets were a far easier to estimate than that stupid unit).

He'd talked her into considering taking her payment in instalments, at least until he knew for sure how much he was meant to provide, It seemed smart to him to know exactly what he was giving. True smartness would have been asking if that was the full price of her offer, but he was too intent on being healed.

And that was why he made a beeline for the bar as soon as he headed through the doors, intent on 'borrowing' a few glasses.

Comments

[burnburnburn]

The cautioning only results in a bristling glare at the fact she dares look down upon him. It's been years since he's had to establish that he deserves respect for his talents despite his age.

"I'm not a boy, old woman, and if you want to keep a conversation polite you won't call me that again. And if you don't want your family insulted, keep then in rein."

He'd been avoiding thinking about the angels or interacting with them. They weren't the only thing in this situation making him helpless by a long shot, but their immediacy and power angers him with how little he can fight against it.

"So we're supposed to kowtow when they decide they want to have their own way?" He mutters. The fact that he would have to Castiel, if he'd not been in front of an audience and it he not had Balthazar's tentative support, is galling for his pride. "You wouldn't see Jeture trapped somewhere like this."

[justrunsasaloon]

"Boy, you're younger than my daughter." Ellen shakes her head. "Meaning I'm old enough to be your mother, and then some." She really doesn't want to think about it, but respect your elders boy.

She laughs at his telling her to keep them in line. "I may know a lot of things about angels, demons and the things that go bump in the night, but I didn't survive this long by ordering around people I had no right to." And anyone who stepped into her bar obeyed her rules or found themselves facing her .357.

She shrugs. "There are ways to trap an angel."

[burnburnburn]

So that's the way she wants to play it? He makes a mental note to exchange 'Ellen' for 'old woman' completely until he found a better name for her.

But once again, she found a way to completely throw him off guard. That's information he needs immediately and he makes not effort to hide his eagerness.

"How?!"

[justrunsasaloon]

She raises her eyebrows at him. Then, she looks at the chalk designs around her bar, before looking back at him. "There are ways. None here, unfortunately." She would gladly keep Raphael away from her - despite what he did for Jo.

Ellen sighs. "If you want to keep them away from you, don't get in their way. I made that mistake and got dead." She knows it. Her and Jo. That explosion hadn't just killed the hellhounds.

"Other than that, there's nothing here that will keep them away. Not as far as I know." She knows some sigils, but not well enough to reproduce them, and here she's not going to do it. That just would add fuel to the fire, and it isn't worth it. "And if the folks holding us captive have it? They better hope it never runs out. Angels don't take kindly to being trapped."