milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Cimorene walks into the bar with a grin, brushing off dusty hands on her blue dress....her...chainmail dress?

"What..."

She's suddenly wearing a golden skirt and cape with a chainmail vest and long black sleeves. She also has a very shiny crown and a pair of wings. Yes, wings. Rather large ones.

"Well," she says, looking around in astonishment, "So much for a quiet cup of tea."

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"I don't think it's too far," he says. "Though there's nothing to rescue them from, really. But I'd appreciate it if you could try, Cimorene. Really."

"Perhaps I should write to this Queen," she says, thinking, "if she knew of the potential husbands to be found in the rescuing business, she might just take her daughters elsewhere. Put them under one of those briar rose thickets or something..."

She shakes her head, "No. That might solve our problems, but I shouldn't go around asking women to cast spells on their daughters, no matter how destestable they may be."

Curse her strong moral fiber!

"I don't suppose you could farm them out to various dragons," suggests Mendanbar. "I certainly don't want them wandering about the Enchanted Forest, though we go get the occasional would-be-rescued princess. But the Forest is good about keeping the purely selfish ones out."

"I....could," she says hesitatingly, "But then I'd have to live with them all, you know. The princesses can be quite social, and I am the King's princess, whatever my title says, which means they always come to visit."

"Well, we mustn't have that," says Mendanbar. "No, it's no use. I shall simply have to go on with my current plan. Stall. And when you can stall no longer, hide."

"It seems like a decent plan," she agrees. "Mine was better, of course, but to be fair, you really can't run away and be a dragon's princess, can you. And you can always hide here! I doubt they'd ever find you."

"I really can't run away at all," he says. "The Forest expects its King to, well, to be aroung doing King things. But hiding, in short bursts, is acceptable. And this place is about the best place to hide I've ever found. For one thing, you don't usually get such good company to hide with. Of course, you don't usually get armor and a goatee, either."

She nods. She's no stranger to royal responsibilities, even if they aren't precisely her own.

"It's true," she says, grinning, "And as far as I know this doesn't happen very often. Next time, however, I shall have to talk with someone about those wings." She glares at them again.

Mendanbar looks at the wings.

"Who," he asks, "do you suppose you would speak to?"

"I..." she pauses for a few seconds, then shrugs with a grin, "I have no idea. Whoever is in charge perhaps? I met a nice redheaded barman who seemed to know what he was doing, but I rather think that wings might be outside his sphere of influence."

"Is there actually a barman, then?" asks Mendanbar. His introduction to the bar has been somewhat haphazard.

"I shall have to keep an eye out for him. If nothing else, he might know who to ask about the wings. Should they return."

"There is, although Bar clearly doesn't need him around to serve drinks if he's busy. He seemed a bit haggard. Apparently he has an infant at home, so he's run a bit ragged, but he was very nice. Bernard was his name."

"Bar has a very tidy and economical kind of magic," says Mendanbar, who knows about these things. "Which is good, especially if the barman has an infant. They tend to take up rather a lot of time, I'm told."

"Is it?" Cimorene really doesn't know about these things. "Well, it's certainly very useful at that. There are so many people here, and at all hours, I think it would be rather too difficult for one, or even several barkeeps to keep up with everything."

"And with patrons no doubt asking for things that only exist in their particular worlds. I can't imagine drinks and food are the same everywhere."

Though the idea of a world with cider is a horrifying one. (There can't possibly be a world without tea, so we shan't waste our time fretting about that.)

"Indeed. I've been wondering if I'd be able to get some of the rarer spell ingredients from the bar. Sometimes they can be incredibly hard to come by, and I'm almost out of powdered hen's teeth."

A world without tea? Riiiiight.

Such a world would promptly spin off its axis and cease to exist. Surely.

"I don't see that it can hurt to ask. And if she can't get you any, I'm fairly certain there are some somewhere in the castle. Willin would know. I'd be happy to get them for you."

Pause.

"Assuming, of course, that you don't want them for some . . . nefarious purpose."

"Oh, very nefarious indeed!" she laughs, "I've promised my friend Amy that I would help her set up a fireproofing spell, to prepare for the new dragon that her brother's lady friend is getting. Powdered hen's teeth is the only ingredient I can never seem to find, and I used up the jar the djinn gave me."

Mendanbar follows this, more or less. At least, he follows what Cimorene is saying. The logic of it escapes him rather entirely.

"Amy's brother's lady friend is getting a dragon? You mean, as a pet or something?"

This does not at all fit in with what Mendanbar knows of dragons.

"As a pet, exactly." She looks thoughtful, "I rather thought that might be difficult, since dragons are over 20 feet tall and probably wouldn't take kindly to being called 'pets' but these dragons are apparently quite small. About the size of a dog. At least, that's what Amy tells me."

"Riiiiight," says Mendanbar. "Well, it wouldn't be my first choice as a pet, but if Amy's brother's lady friend wants a dog-sized pet dragon, I guess that's her business.

"You know a fireproofing spell? Well, I mean, I suppose that's quite logical, living with dragons and all. I suppose what I meant to say is what fireproofing spell do you use?"

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