Snippet #1859178

It was always interesting being in a bar or pub. The types of people that came in were always different. But it seemed like this place attracted even odder people to the mix. Étaín kind of liked the idea of all the different types being in one place. It made her not stand out so much, at least she hoped it did. Not to mention she was glad she wasn't the only one with odd drink tastes. Didn't Japanese people know America wouldn't have their stuff unless they went to a specialty place. Like her with finding true Irish meade. It was nearly impossible. Plus, so much time had passed she wasn't sure if she remembered what real meade tasted like instead of the flavored white wine meant to be meade.

The words of the other woman floated to the red head's ears and she paused for just a second before continuing to eat. Burned at the stake for fun? Is that some type of metaphor? She sure hoped that it was. Anything is better than American beer, sweety. She thought to herself as she finished off her small meal and the rest of the meade in her glass. Glancing back at the woman she could see she was about to speak, but when the TV started on about the immortal again even she turned her attention to it.

What could she do? How did she have any chance at finding this other so called immortal. Étaín had known for years that she couldn't have been the only one in the world. And with the technology increases it wasn't surprising that one of them had been found. She just didn't want to be next. She knew she would have found a place and holed up for a few hundred years.

"Not being able to die is probably a sin." The comment was light hearted. She had always felt that she was cursed for something or done something she shouldn't have and was being punished for it, but what she did she didn't remember. "I would hide for a very long time if I were him. Though who knows," she shrugged. "Maybe he's tired of hiding now. It gets old after a while; no longer becomes fun." She used the same word as the other woman.

Fun.

It wasn't fun to be burned at the stake, whatever that meant. But it sure as hell wasn't fun hiding all the of time. Always running and looking over one's shoulder got very annoying after a few hundred years and that was all she really had memories of. She guessed everything else was blocked out or that she was born then. But that notion seemed off too. Sighing, she shrugged her shoulders.

"Time to head to the motel, I guess." A comment more to herself, but still just loud enough to be heard by those closest to her.