Mik took a deep pull on his vodka, the familiar buzz that told him he was operating at a billion percent present. He needed to maintain that, after all. Alcohol lubricated the brain, after all. But as anyone could tell you, too much lube was a problem. Made standing or holding firm or onto someone or something damn near impossible. Slipping off a high bed on to tiled floor was no fun, let me tell you. Plus, made it near impossible to feel anything. Morons lathered themselves up like they were on a slip and slide. Or going to give a nuru massage. Sliding all around just fine until you slid your self off to rug burns and bruises and a heel to his cheek that one time. Pain was normally part of the game. But heels to the face not so much. No sir, you had to be...judicious- yes, that was the word his wonderfully peaked brain brought him- in your usage of lube.
Goldilocks that shit.
What was he thinking about? Oh yeah, his brain and alcohol and making him think clearer. That was it. So any way, he took his pull and stared at Jaxen, trying to make heads or tails of what he was talking about. I mean, sure magic was real and all. And it wasn't like he didn't see Lady Fate on the regular. But snake aliens? He'd almost bet Jaxen was fucking with him. And not in the way he'd enjoy, either.
No. As he looked at the man, he could see that Jaxen was telling the truth. Or rather, Jaxen didn't really care if he believed him. He said it and that was it. He didn't seem to want to be asked a story nor did he bait the conversation. Mik knew about that. He did it all the time. Usually in the other direction. Best way to get someone talking was to talk about something either similar to or the exactly the opposite of what you were angling for. Then gingerly steer it around the topic without every mentioning it so that it practically screamed in the other person's mind. It reminded him of Si Wang Mu's art. Definition with negative spaces. The image or idea was in the blank places, the emptiness that was carefully constructed. You provided the element. And it worked. Real good.
He knew all the tricks to pull information out of people. Jaxen used none of them. He believed what he said and he said what he said.
Which meant he was either delusional or it had happened. He liked delusional. That could be fun. Not like rich folk were immune to that. In some ways, they could be just as fucked up as anyone else. But he'd never gotten that impression about Jaxen. His routine at Kallisti had been legendary. The jabs at the Ass-endancy had been thoughtful and brilliant. He'd wished he'd been their to see it in person rather than on a surreptitiously recorded holo. The moron who took it couldn't figure out how to hold it steady.
His finger absently tapped on the bar as he thought. "Snake aliens?" He laughed. He didn't think Jaxen would hold back, but he decided to prod a bit. "You were hanging around with Aiden Finnegan, right? From Blarney Stone? He's a writer of fantasy shit, now, right? You sure he wasn't fucking with you? I mean, if there are snake aliens around, then....well...the world just became that much more awesome!"
The grin on his face said he was being completely honest.
Goldilocks that shit.
What was he thinking about? Oh yeah, his brain and alcohol and making him think clearer. That was it. So any way, he took his pull and stared at Jaxen, trying to make heads or tails of what he was talking about. I mean, sure magic was real and all. And it wasn't like he didn't see Lady Fate on the regular. But snake aliens? He'd almost bet Jaxen was fucking with him. And not in the way he'd enjoy, either.
No. As he looked at the man, he could see that Jaxen was telling the truth. Or rather, Jaxen didn't really care if he believed him. He said it and that was it. He didn't seem to want to be asked a story nor did he bait the conversation. Mik knew about that. He did it all the time. Usually in the other direction. Best way to get someone talking was to talk about something either similar to or the exactly the opposite of what you were angling for. Then gingerly steer it around the topic without every mentioning it so that it practically screamed in the other person's mind. It reminded him of Si Wang Mu's art. Definition with negative spaces. The image or idea was in the blank places, the emptiness that was carefully constructed. You provided the element. And it worked. Real good.
He knew all the tricks to pull information out of people. Jaxen used none of them. He believed what he said and he said what he said.
Which meant he was either delusional or it had happened. He liked delusional. That could be fun. Not like rich folk were immune to that. In some ways, they could be just as fucked up as anyone else. But he'd never gotten that impression about Jaxen. His routine at Kallisti had been legendary. The jabs at the Ass-endancy had been thoughtful and brilliant. He'd wished he'd been their to see it in person rather than on a surreptitiously recorded holo. The moron who took it couldn't figure out how to hold it steady.
His finger absently tapped on the bar as he thought. "Snake aliens?" He laughed. He didn't think Jaxen would hold back, but he decided to prod a bit. "You were hanging around with Aiden Finnegan, right? From Blarney Stone? He's a writer of fantasy shit, now, right? You sure he wasn't fucking with you? I mean, if there are snake aliens around, then....well...the world just became that much more awesome!"
The grin on his face said he was being completely honest.
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods