milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: confused

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A tall blonde woman in blue scrubs walks stiffly into the bar. A rather pink and retro key chain dangles from her hand.

Like all newbies, she's confused.

[ ooc: also, please not to be confusing her with Angua. They Look Nothing Alike™ ]

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Composed.

"Cats cannot get tongues unless the tongue is a part of the Cat's Prey."

Librian logic.

"Unless you've ran out of things to say. Then the cat does have the tongue."

Beat.

"I assume you've heard of a 'figure of speech'."

And Preston seizes upon a way to explain this place to her.

"I have, however they're-not prevalent where I come from."

Preston hesitates, "....I suppose I hesitate becasue I don't know how best to explain the scenario that I found myself in, and that you yourself have now found yourself in."

"It wouldn't hurt to try."

Preston composes himself once again.

His Cleric Face back in place.

"Welcome to Milliways, bar at the end of the universe." Preston bows, "A metaphysical anomaly that allows beings from other worlds to meet with each other."

Beat.

Beatrix just grins.

Tightly.

In the way people do when they're trying not to laugh.

"And to who do I owe the honor of allowing me to enter this...metaphysical anomaly?"

Preston's feathers are just a little bit ruffled, so drawing himself up again he-shrugs.

"To tell you the truth I don't know." He says, then hesitates.

"...you don't believe me."

Or so he thinks. That'd be the clerical intuition.

"I might be doped up on drugs," she says with a shrug.

Beat.

" if you were doped upon drugs then you wouldn't be ambulatory."

"Medical drugs, maybe."

"The only medical drug that I know of that can allow individuals to remain ambulatory-and remotely cognescant, is Prosium."

He pauses, "...Do you require medical attention?"

He's now considering that the scrubs might have a much more dire signifigance.

"I don't. I'm fine."

Except for the stiff walking part.

"....of course."

Yeah. Right.

He snorts, "Let me try asking you another question. What year is it?"

"2003," she says plainly. She doesn't care if he believes her or not.

"I was born in 2089." Preston said bluntly, not caring either of she believes him or not, "Different worlds at different times."

the expession on his face reading, do you get me?.

He's really trying.

"........how is that possible?"

Finally-something that Preston can relate to.

Confusion.

He visibly relaxes, "I don't know either-the mechanics of this place are something else entirely."

He flips the bokken back, idly.

Her eyes dart to the sword. "Interesting. How do you get out?"

Preston stops in his tracks.

"....The door right behind you will return you to your world." he points, "....you can see it right?"

She turns around. "Yes. Am I supposed to see it?"

Preston's blushing. He suddenly becomes engrossed in his blade, "...The-sometimes the bar keeps people here."

That happened to him.

"....I must sound crazy."

"Not as crazy as this whole bar is by concept."

Preston nods, a half grin on his face, "I hear that."

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