milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: gloomy

(no subject)

Bentley is hunched forward in a booth, his wheelchair nearby. Staring very intently at a salad. There's also a book open next to him, but apparently, the salad is more interesting.

... What is so interesting about that salad, I wonder?

~~Bentley's mun fails at posting, we know.~~

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Mike is cutting a path through the bar on his way back up to the Guest Suites, when he happens to notice the turtle sitting in a booth.

Hmmm, says Mike.

"Guess that you don't make friends with salad thing really is true, huh?"

"Not particularly, no." Bentley said calmly, not even bothering to glance up. "I'm just thinking."

"You know, they say that the hardest thing about thinking, is knowing when to stop."

Mike takes a seat on the other side of the booth.

"That could be true. But it's kind of hard to stop thinking when you've recieved the news I have."

Bentley takes time to look up and stare at Mikey. Oooh, creepy.

Mike just sort of grins back at him. Hey, sometimes the happy rubs off.

"Is the salad seeing other people?"

Yes, even gloomy Bentley can smile too.

"No. We are in a happy relationship, thank you very much."

"Mazel tov!
...
Have we met?"

"No, I don't believe so."

... What? He's honest.

Mike sighs in relief.

"Oh good, because I was totally blanking on your name, and I'm sitting here going you know, of anyone in here you'd remember this guy's name if you knew it, and I don't."

Mike has amazing breath control.

"I'm Mike. I'd offer you my hand to shake, but as your friend doesn't have hands, I thought it might be rude."

"I'm Bentley. I'd offer you a handshake too, but according to someone else here, I'm not supposed to exist at all."

Um... Ouch?

He blinks back at the turtle.

"It's not because you're a talking turtle, is it?"

"No, suprisingly not. Though I have gotten some of those comments. They get over it after the shock wears off a bit."

"Yeah, I've always found that once they stop screaming it's easier to reassure them that they're not dreaming."

"Funny. They never scream when I talk to them. They just stare with their mouths hanging open. Maybe I need to try a different tactic."

"You should get a squirt bottle of water and then spritz them when they do that. That's how I trained my cat and my elephant."

Bentley merely shrugs his shoulders. He has learned it's better not to ask. But really... an elephant?

Hmm. Silent responses to outlandish things aren't good. Clearly Mike is losing his touch.

"So...if you don't mind me asking, why shouldn't you exist?"

"Apparently, I am a character in a video game. Data. Code. Something you can turn off and on."

Bentley gave a small chuckle. "Isn't that a scary thought...? Everything you thought you knew, all your good deeds, accomplishments, everything... was made by someone else, with a computer and a couple of animation programs..."

Mike gives this a bit of thought, then nods.

"Yup. You think too much. I mean, what does it really matter where you're from, you're here now and that's what's important. You're a boy with his salad, and that's a wonderful thing.

Besides, it could be waaaaaay worse. They could have made a live action movie about you where your head looks like a giant gree potato."

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