outside_omens | (no subject)

Date: May 3, 2000
Setting: An Unnamed Pub in London
Status: Semi-Private (John and Pestilence - Complete)
Summary: A chance meeting between two strange customers in an out-of-the-way London watering hole. (Odd Couples Challenge thread)

It wasn't one of his usual haunts. John rarely frequented this section of town, for a variety of reasons that were not important, but he'd chosen this particular pub for two very significant reasons: it was in a part of London which he had discovered, by trial and error, he remembered fairly well; and it wasn't someplace where he was likely to run into any casual acquaintances he might or might not recognize or be able to name. This was the first time he'd ventured far from the Manor by himself since the Belfast incident, and he'd planned it very carefully to avoid anything that might trigger another attack like the one that had brought him to a screeching halt the day of the shopping trip.

So far, everything seemed to be going fine. He'd found his way to the place with no problems, the food was good, the beer was palatable, and the atmosphere was friendly and comfortably homey. Nobody had bothered him, and here he found it possible to relax and enjoy his drink and think about nothing special, which seemed to be what his beleaguered psyche liked best to do lately. It served up some rather peculiar free-associations, yes, but as long as he wasn't trying to direct them anywhere in particular or repress the less pleasant ones too much, this didn't cause him any trouble.

He took no real notice, at first, when a group seated near the door began coughing and sneezing rather dramatically. It was the time of year for that sort of thing, after all...

Threaded | Flat

What he needed, Pestilence thought, was a restful evening with plenty of alcohol. It had been a long and tiring week for the horseman. He'd been 'studying' how human beings battled histamines and other allergens at the University. With his new knowledge, he went out on the town for some field research.

He wandered around the streets of London, feeling around for ripe ground. Then he stumbled upon the perfect place. Fittingly it was named the 'Mad Dog.' Since rabies had always been one of his favorite illnesses, he walked right in.

Just like the soft strains of Strauss, Pestilence could have practically floated with the sounds of wheezing and hacking that assailed his ears. Just like the strains of influenza, he insinuated himself into the crowd and headed towards the bar.

"Is this seat taken?" the horseman asked the blond man at the bar. He was hardly bad to look at, and Pestilence appreciated the nice trenchcoat he was wearing. "What are you drinking, handsome?"

The horseman cringed. He hadn't meant to be rude. See, that was the problem being immortal, it was hard to understand the human preoccupation with not dying. To be frank, Pestilence had often thought that dying would be preferable to the alternative, but as far as everything was concerned, he would never be able to find out whether his suspicions were true or not. That was one reason he particularily liked movies about zombies and vampires. It was nice not to feel so alone.

He poured John another shot. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to bring up the whole death thing. Ever since I oozed from the collective human consciousness, I've always had difficulty thinking before I speak. Probably comes from lack of practice. Most mortals instinctively avoid me, so I usually only talk to the other horsepeople, and we only talk shop. You can imagine my repetoir is rather limited," he said with an apologetic smile.

After downing another shot himself, Pestilence looked over at John. "You said you didn't have any powers, but your aura is thick with it, you know. I thought all the people at the Manor had powers, anyway. Are you sure you don't?" It was a ridiculous question, but after a few shots of tequila Pestilence didn't care if he looked like a fool.