milliways_bar | (no subject)

Since tea and embroidery are staples of Amy's ~~entry posts~~ time at Milliways, she notices the other young woman almost immediately.

A moment later and she's arrived, tea in one hand, embroidery in the other, and a bright smile on her face.

"Good evening. I'm Amy. May I join you?"

Jane smiles, noticing the other woman's similar possesions.
"With certainty. I am Jane. Jae Eyre."

"It's lovely to meet you, Jane," she says, sitting down, and beginning to arrange her sewing things.

"Have you been here in Milliways long?"

"It is nice to make your aquaintance, miss. I have been here for a period of several months, although most of it has been of quiet contemplation in my apartments." She senses that the other woman could most likely see through the euphamism to the real truth of the matter: she was hiding.

Amy would see that, yes. Amy would also be far too polite to, shall we say, call a spade a spade.

"The rooms here are very comfortable, aren't they? But I think it's nice to get out occasionally, and meet people, especially if you can find someone with common interests."

They have to have at least two, needlework and tea.

"What are you working on?"

"It is nice to come out here, to the bar, and at least observe the customers of this odd establishment. Although I suspect they are very different from me."
She pauses.
"This is only a piece to help me retain my skills at needlework, as I do not use them horribly often here. It is only a sampler, a little idle work. And you?"

Amy leans forward to look. "You do very fine work," she says, and then offers the other girl her own embroidery hoop.

"It's a handkerchief. For a friend. And there are really and truly all sorts of people here, but you can learn so much from them."

Jane examines the work. The technique is a bit different than heres, but still very detailed and neat.
"Very nice. Your friend will enjoy it very much. Are they also here?"

"He is, yes," says Amy. "Most of the people I consider good friends I met here. Which makes being Bound much much easier."

"I think I would like to make such friends. I am afraid I do not have a large number of them at the moment." She pauses. "at least those who I would go to for assistance." Mr. Rochester's visage appears before her, unbidden and haunting.

Amy looks at her, eyes very serious for a moment. "Friends you can go to for assistance are very good things to have."

Strangers, too, when you have to.

"So we shall have to get better acquianted, Jane. When and where are you from?"

"Indeed they are, especially when you do not have them."
Jane refuses to speak more in detail about the matter.
"I think it wqould be an excelent idea to be better acquainted. I am from rural Northern England, the year 1848."

"There seem to be rather a lot of people in the bar from England," says Amy. "I'm from a country called Phantasmorania, which probably doesn't exist in your world, but it's sort of near France. And . . . our years don't translate exactly, it's the twenty-fifth year of the reign of King Hulderbrand, but I'm probably from sometime before you. I seem to be from some time before most people."

A pause, while she rethreads her needle.

"And what do you do, in England?"

Jane thinks this over carefully, and is mostly certain that France borders Spain, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany and Italy, but no Phantasmagoria.
"I suspect so as well. Yet I think that we are more alike with our worlds than many here.
"As to myself I am... was a governess. I am no longer. I am not entirely sure at this moment. I am simply here."

"Oh, dear," says Amy, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were dead, I'm afraid."

Jane opens her eyes wide.
"No, I did noot mean that at all! I simply am....unemployed. Of my own volition. I am Bound here, as i cannot get back to my time. But I do not think I am dead. Not yet."

[ooc: Can we slowtime? Damn classes...]

"Oh, dear," says Amy. "Now I'm even more sorry, Jane. I just . . . Well, I should know better than to assume anything here, really. And it's certainly possible to be Bound and not dead. I'm Bound, and I have no intention of dying any time soon."

[ooc: Of course! Good night!]

"No, it is alright. I suppose it is a legitimate assumption with my ambiguity. You would aldso not be the first to make assumptions. Although I would like not to make assumptions abot yourself. What were you brefore coming here?"
The question is asked lightly; Jane fully expects the woman to be quite ordinary, a governess or factory worker or married, or somesuch mundane career.

Amy is completely, totally, and thoroughly Ordinary. She's just also royalty.

"Well," she says, thoughtfully, "immediately before I came here I worked as a kitchen maid. In the palace in Ambergeldar."

Of course, she doesn't look remotely like a kitchen maid these days, and she knows it.

Jane looks at her critically. While she is by no means beautiful, she lacks the roughness of the kitchen staff that she had known, growing up at Lowood and at Thornfield. She asks carefully, "What did you do before that?"

"Before that," says Amy, "I lived with my parents."

There's a pause while she cuts a thread.

"My parents are the king and queen of Phantasmorania."

Jane blinks, surprised.
"The king and queen? Of your country?"
Jane's features remained fixed in surprise, complete with rapid blinking.
"You do not act like a princess. Not that I have met a princess before you."

Amy smiles, and shrugs. "Well, I'm a very Ordinary sort of Princess, really. But most of the royalty here is fairly . . ." she pauses, looking for the right word. "Well, we're not terribly regal, for the most part. My adopted brother is a king, and he runs the stables."

Another pause, and then a grin.

"And we all seem to be very fond of tea."

Jane nods.
"Yes, tea. I rather like tea as well. Shall I get you some?" Her words trip over themselves, in her haste to be useful or something like it.

"That would be lovely," says Amy, serenely, "if you'll join me. Tea is one of the most important things here at Milliways, after all."

It is several hours later when a still batterred looking, disheveled Hank McCoy walks to the Bar to get some heavy diuty coffee. It is going to be a long night and he knows it. He glances around for a moment, wanting to get a few breaths and when he sees her, he waves.

Jane also waves and notes Hank's haggard appearance.
"Is everything alright?" she asks with concern.

He smiles faintly.

"A rescue mission. It succeeded, but it wwas rough and I have been in the Infirmary ever asince. I am afraid I haven't had a chance to clean up properly."

He smiles a little.

"How are you, madame?"

"I am quite well, sir. I have once again taken my place to observe the madness of this place after much contemplatio. It has proven to be a fruitful evening."
Jane has noticed the bloodstains and blanches a bit at them, but is relatively calm.
"Am I keeping you from your duties? And would you like to talk of other things?"

He smiles.

"I am glad you have found myuch of interest."

he glances aodnw and frowns slightly, but then glances back up.

"No, I am in between moments of need. Just wanted soem air and a few moments out of the Infirmary."

He smiles.

"What are you working on?"

"I am ambridering to maintain my abilities. I think it will be a nice decorative addition to my room."
She holds it up for him, mindful of his bloodstained paws/hands.
"May I obtain anything for you?"

He holds up his coffee.

"I am fine, with my coffee, thank you, and that looks very nicely done. How long does it take to finish something like you are doing?"

He sounds curious and interested.

"Thank you."
She blushes. It is no better than most women's embrodery, alhough Jane suspects that most women from Hank's time do no such needlecraft.
"I am not sure. I suspect a long time, maybe several weeks, as it is a large piece andd I am in no hurry to finish the piece."

He nods.

"Well, then I hope it does give you pleasure in the doing."

He grins.

"Have you been meeting many others here?"

"Not many others, I am afraid. I am still uneasy about this place nd have been thinking much on your words."
She sips her tea.
"I suspect it is like many other things, a matter of practice. Would you happen to know of any French speakers here?"

He shakes his ehad.

"Back on my Earth, I know a few, but none of them habve made it here yet. I am sorry."

He takes a long sip of his coffee and is startled to find it almost gone.

"I hope you will walk about and talk to others. There are many good people here. Some more so than others of course."

"Of course, sir. As there are at home, I suspect. Although there are far too many who are not. But I suspect that you must head back to the infirmary soon."
She smiles.

He looks at his coffee mournfully and nods.

"yes, I am afraid I must. But hopefully in a few days this will be all quiet and then we can perhaps sit and talk longer?"

"Indeed we shall, and I look forward to it. Until then, good luck in your endeavors."

He smiles slightly and bows to her. even in a mess and looking shabby he pulls it off and smiles again.

"Until another day, madame."

Then he moves with a glide in his step towards the Infirmary.