The inside of the pub is cool and darker than it is outside. Not unwelcoming, though it's a bit early in the day for most. Still, there are a few regulars holding up one end of the bar, and one or two late lunchers at assorted tables. Nobody pays the two Americans much attention.
     Pres makes a line for a table in back, away from most of the others. "I'll have a pint of draft. What about you, Loki?"

     "The same, I guess." For a man who declared himself in need of a drink, Loki is not looking full of enthusiasm for the one upcoming. He takes a seat, and says quietly, "I think I could've handled that better. Even if I'm not sure precisely how."

     "I know the feeling. Welcome to life with a sister." Pres almost grins but not quite. When the barmaid - a woman in her thirties with an apron and a world-weary but tolerant expression - comes up, he explains his order and adds 'the special' to it. He doesn't care what the special is. It's just there to soak up some of the alcohol. "I just ... yeah, I don't know how to talk about this with her."

     "I'm not sure how to talk about this, period. I thought maybe it would get easier once other people knew, but..." Loki shrugs, and slouches back in his chair. "I wasn't entirely fair to her. Other people's problems always look easier than your own."

     "Yeah, sisters aren't easy to be fair to." Pres sighs, running a hand back through his hair and rubbing his forehead. "But there's also stuff I - yeah, you don't want to tell her everything. I don't want her to know about, uh. The details. You know." He looks uncomfortable.

     Loki rubs the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. I know. Honestly, I don't even want to tell her about the few, uh, gifts that I've got, though I probably should at some point. Just to keep things in the clear."

     "Probably. Gifts? Magic rocks or something? We never really covered in any detail, did we. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself." Pres smiles lopsidedly. "Sorry about that." He accepts his pint with a brief smile to the waitress, then looks back to Loki.

     The pint gets brief attention before Loki says, "Just...abilities. I told you about some of it before. I still find it all sort of creepy. It's not exactly reassuring when people who already jaunt between worlds and wander through people's dreams tell me that there aren't really any consent issues I should worry about with picking up on emotions. Or, uh, changing them. Not that I'm any good at that part anyway."

     "Want to run that by me in slow-mo so I can see where the ball went?" Pres invites, pushing the plate of food to between both. "Sorry, but I think I missed something. What's up, now, with consent issues and emotions? Haven't had anything with dreams, either, so throw in a side order of that if you would."

     "Sorry. I thought I explained it before, but we were--both sort of distracted." Loki reaches forward to pick something off the plate at random. Oh, hey. Food. "It's not exactly magical rocks. You've seen the tattoos I picked up. They showed up at the same time Gwilym decided I should start picking up on the emotional state of everyone around me." He speaks in a low voice, not quite a monotone. "It doesn't usually give me headaches anymore unless things get--unpleasant. Like a whole crowd in a bad mood. So, I can tell what people really feel. Seems like an invasion of privacy to me, but people keep telling me it's not."
     He chews for a minute, and looks up to Pres. "The second part is being able to sort of shove whatever I'm feeling back on someone else. It's not exactly a free hand to fuck with people's heads, because I need to feel whatever it is first. And it doesn't work, a lot of the time. When I try to use it. Which I generally don't. Third part's just a way of seeing who's sort of magical. There are some freaky people in London clubs, and more than you'd expect."
     He washes down the food with a long sip from the pint, and finishes with, "Oh, and Gwi can show up in my dreams--probably anyone's, I'm not sure, and I wouldn't be surprised if the rest of his family could too. Just so you know."

     "Tattoos? Huh." Pres frowns, listening not as if angry but more as if trying to parse things. "So there's more than just this family out there? I guess that shouldn't surprise me. Sorta does, but... what do I know."
     He drinks some of his pint, absorbing it all while he does so in sober silence despite the presence of beer. "...Okay. I guess I get it, though I don't really. I'm not sure how it's an invasion of privacy, though. Or if it is, it's - well, it's an accidental one. Like having really good hearing. Not your fault if you hear the next door folks arguing. What do you mean, shove it back onto people?"

     "I mean--if I feel happy, and you're in a bad mood, I can make you feel happy." The hypothetical is less hypothetical than Loki is entirely comfortable with at the moment. He pokes at the plate of food. "Or vice versa. It doesn't change what people are thinking. Just feeling. Doing it without asking just seems...weird to me. Way too much of the 'for your own good' and thought police sort of approach."

     "Huh." Pres sits back, looking thoughtful. "I dunno. I - guess I see your point, but it doesn't change what they're thinking, does it? Just - glosses an overlay on their mood. I mean, I can see being careful but there are times when that could prove useful, couldn't it?"

     "Yeah. I guess." Loki sneaks a glance upward from where he's been mostly staring into his pint. "It just--gets a little too close to the magical equivalent of slipping drugs into someone's drink for me to be entirely comfortable with it. So far I mostly only use it for really small stuff. Or, uh, on someone who can actually agree to it. Which is why I'm still crap at doing anything with it properly."

Posted by rowan at June 11, 2009 06:06 PM