milliways_bar | (no subject)

*Mat looks over from where he sits at a table, and gives the girl an appraising glance. He calls over to her.*

All right there, pretty girl?

*looks around, surprised, then down at herself*

What - me? Er - yes, I suppose so. And yourself?

Um - do a lot of angels tend to show up here?

[OOC: Thanks! Too much insanity? Never!]

Yes, you. You seemed a little upset, and pretty girls shouldn't be upset. *grins*

Angels? You mean the fellows with wings? I couldn't say. I only arrived here last night. There were a few involved in a tussle, but I don't know if that's normal or not.

Do you have a name, pretty girl?

*sighs* That sounds fairly normal, for angels. I mean, I only know one, really - and I mean, I don't know him well, not like my mother does, it's not like we have lots of friendly chats or I invite him over for tea, but it's his fault I'm out of work and it's awfully annoying.

*grins, now thoroughly at ease now she has vented a bit* But anyways, you don't need to hear all that. My name's Meg Giry - Marguerite really, but if you call me Marguerite you shall be disembowelled and then defenestrated and I don't care how much you flatter me. Yours?

[OOC: *sigh* I'd sound selfish if I said your sanity comes secondary to the arrival of the Phantom, wouldn't I . . . oh well. :D]

Meg. *grins saucily* A pretty name for a pretty girl. I wouldn't even think of calling you otherwise. Good to meet you, Meg.

I'm Mat Cauthon, Matrim actually, but I only hear that name when I'm getting my ears blistered.

You're out of work, you say? How'd that happen?

Mat? Oh, good - nice and simple and easy to remember. *grins cheekily* Although I'll have to remember the other, too, just in case I need to blister your ear. If, in fact, I haven't talked it off first. Just fair warning.

As for the whole out-of-work thing - well, it's a reeeeaallly long story, and to cut it relatively short let's just say I was fired from dancing at my Opera House for aiding and abetting a stalker and murderer - the angel - even though I wasn't actually doing any such thing, that was all my mother's fault, but she's indispensable to the managers, and I'm a convenient scapegoat. That's why I'm here, actually - friend of a friend of a friend of a friend recommended this bar as a place where the truly strange can sometimes get work, so my mother of course packed me right off to come see what I could get, because of course, being my loving mother, she has no greater desire in life than to see her little girl dancing at a bar.

So, in short - or not so short, actually - *grins* that's why I'm here. What about you - are you a regular? And if so, could you maybe give me the rundown? When you get the details from a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend, things tend to be a bit vague . . .

[OOC: Who, evil? Me? *looks innocent* Good point - although I'm sure there's some happy medium . . . :p)

*grins back at Meg* Don't you worry, no matter how much you talk, I can guarantee I've had it worse. I once knew a girl named Betse, who I swear could talk the Dark One himself into a stupor.

You dance? *Mat's eyes light up* You wouldn't happen to know any Two Rivers dances, would you?

I guess that explains the odd clothing. My next question was going to be where you were from, to wear garments like that.

I'm still figuring out this place, myself. Like I mentioned, I only arrived last night. But I'd be happy to tell you what I can. *grins lopsidedly* Why don't you let me buy you a cup of wine, and I can do just that?

Uh-oh - see, now you've given me a challenge, and that's not wise. *giggles, then sobers*

Um - no, sorry. I'm a ballerina - you know, pirouettes, toe pointing, tutus, all that sort of thing. That would be the 'odd clothing', by the way. I don't even think I own anything that isn't pink and frilly and, well, a tutu. *Meg brightens* But I'm always willing to expand my repertoire! Er - where exactly is Two Rivers, anyways?

And certainly you can buy me a cup of wine. *Meg, who has never been allowed more than a sip while working at the Opera House (after all, nobody needs a drunken ballerina), smiles mischievously.* I never turn down free food. Actually, free anything, really. And you can tell me what you know from your 24 hours' more experience than I've got, and where in the Universe Two Rivers is, and I'll do my best to outtalk your friend Betse, since after all I've got a reputation to uphold - sound like a plan?

[OOC: Now it's you giving me ideas! *tries to resist temptation of wasting yet more batteries on CD player for one day . . .*]

Can't say that I know ballerinas and their business, but I guess I'm meeting one now, aren't I? *grins*

Where is the Two Rivers? It's on the edges of Andor. You've heard of Andor. Haven't you? Well, that's where I'm from. I'll have to teach you some of the dances, if I can find someone to play the music. They're lively, you'll like them.

*finishes the glass of wine in his hand*

Well, Meg, since you're going to let me buy you that wine, perhaps you'll also let me escort you over to the bar to claim it? And then I'll tell you what I know, and you hopefully won't be able to top Betse's chatter, with all respect to your reputation.

*Mat tips his hat before crooking his arm and smiling charmingly.*

Heard of Andor? Erm . . . *Meg tugs on a wriggly bit of hair and cocks her head, with a rueful grin* May I plead total ignorance of everything but ballet and leave it at that? I don't even know how to get to Montmartre, let alone anywhere outside of Paris - even getting here was a bit blurry for me, and heaven knows how I'm going to manage getting back. Although with just my mad mother waiting for me there, not much incentive, really.

*She laughs* No real need to escort me - it's not all that far; I doubt I'll be attacked by any rabid animals on the way . . . *she smiles cheekily and, ignoring the extended arm, bounces up from her seat and hops over to the bar to perch on a bar stool* See? Perfectly safe, if you'd like to come and join me. *She laughs* Now watch something drop on me from the ceiling, just out of spite.

[OOC: No worries - it's late late late here and I'm semi-incoherent from fatigue myself. Of course, that's an advantage when writing Meg ;)]

*Mat raises an eyebrow with amusement as Meg springs over to the bar. Spunky. A good sign. He grins widely and strolls over to the bar, where he sits on the stool beside her.*

So. I promised you wine.

*Mat places an Andoran crown on the counter, and two cups of wine appear. He hands one to Meg.*

Your wine, pretty girl. It's not bad here. This place in general isn't that bad, although I'd be hard-pressed to tell you how I happened to get here. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was one of Rand's gateways. I have no bloo- *stops himself from swearing, with a quick glance over at Meg* - no idea how I'm going to get back.

So, your first lesson regarding this tavern. What would you like to know?

*Mat reaches out and tugs on one of Meg's curls with a wink.*

*Meg lifts her cup in the air in salute, then raises it to her lips, taking a bold swallow - certainly no one, especially Mat, needs to know that she's never been to a bar before. She takes another sip and sets the cup down, carefully making sure not to spill it, and giggles.*

Goodness - did you actually just stop yourself swearing because of me? *She gives him a pitying look.* I grew up in an opera house - think artistic temperament, if you please - and you should have heard all the comments about the merde-eating fils de putains, our managers - and the number of times I heard the other ballerinas tell my darling mother to va le l'accrocher, which is actually physically impossible for her, I can't even remember.

*She opens her blue eyes innocently wide and takes another gulp of wine. The glass is now rather less than half-full (Meg is certainly a half-full kind of person), which is perhaps why she does not protest the curl-pulling as she normally would.*

And what would I like to know? *She spreads her hands wide in an all-encompassing gesture.* Anything. Everything! Who runs it, who frequents it, who I can ask for a job, if they're likely to want a ballerina, whether it's normal for people to buy scrawny little newcomers drinks and flatter them outrageously, whether the food is good, whether they offer rooms so I needn't go back to my mad mother . . . *Finally running out of breath, she gasps, then beams at Mat.* You get the general idea?

[OOC: Same here timewise, and I have a feeling that from now on I too will be staying up much later than I ought . . . Oh well, sleep is for the weak. :p]

*Mat takes a swallow of his wine, amused at Meg's conscientiousness in drinking from her cup.*

I don't swear in front of the ladies, if I can help it. I make an exception for Egwene, Elayne, and Mynaeve - my friends - but then I don't consider them ladies, either. They're more like sister. Really irritating, infuriating sisters.

*Mat chuckles at Meg's exuberance after just part of a cup of wine.*

Now, pretty girl! Haven't you had wine before?

To answer your questions: A tall man with dark hair and odd etchings on his skin, all manner of people and some that I doubt could be considered people, I have no idea, I certainly hope so, it's completely normal for me to flatter pretty girls like yourself, the food is decent, and I think they offer rooms, although you'd have to ask.

*Mat grins jauntily.*

You get the general idea?

*Meg tries her best to look even more innocent, if possible, suppressing her giggles*

Oh - so I don't merit friendly, sisterly treatment then? *She shakes her head in mock sadness* What a shame.

And of course I've had wine before! Just - er - not in very large quantities, like more than a glass. Well, a few sips.

One time.

But that counts!

*She laughs and takes another sip of wine, finishing the glass* Well, this place doesn't sound too terribly strange - can't be any worse than the Opera house, which certainly had several people who wouldn't have been considered people if they were held up to any standards at all - personality-wise, of course, but still. *She looks rather wistfully at the empty cup and sets it down at the table, a little unsteadily, then gives Mat a cheeky grin and an equally unsteady poke in the chest.* Anyways, who says I was asking only about you? What I really wanted to know is how long I can live off friendly people buying me things before I actually have to start earning something. I'm very good at looking waiflike and starving . . . *she demonstrates, managing to hold the pathetic, big-eyed pose for a few minutes before being unable to hold in her giggles any longer.*

[OOC: And truer words were never sung.]

*Mat pulls a solemn expression on his face as best he can.*

Friendly, yes. Sisterly, no. You should consider yourself lucky, really.

*He bursts out laughing at Meg's antics, and places another crown on the bar. A plate of bread appears.*

Eat that. It'll help. If you think you can handle it after you eat a little, I'll get you another cup of wine, but I can hardly allow you to get drunk right after we met. I'd wonder what it was about me that had driven you to drink, and agonize through many sleepless nights. You wouldn't let me do that, would you, Meg? *with a mournful face*

*He catches her hand as she wobbles, and smiles at her.*

Careful there, pretty girl. Wouldn't do to have you fall.

From what I've seen, I think you can go as long as you like without paying, as long as you do pay eventually. It'd be easier for you to have money, though.

*Mat hands Meg a small purse of Andoran crowns.*

Here. To give you something to live on until you start earning. Can't have the pretty girl starving, after all. *He smiles at her.*

*Meg waves her hand airily*

Oh, everyone deserves some horrible guilt and sleepless nights now and again. Helps you to mature. It's a learning 'sperience, really.

*She looks down at their hands as Mat steadies hers and raises an eyebrow.* Not that big a cat'strophe if I knock over an empty wine cup, is it? And I have a very hard head, cushioned by all these silly curly things - even if I fall, it's not likely to hurt it. *She doesn't move her hand, however.*

Can go without paying long as I like? Good to know - have to remember not to run up too much of a tab, though, barkeep might still get cross -

*Suddenly, her smile falls at Mat hands her the purse. She pulls her hand away from the glass and pushes herself off the stool, folding her arms in front of her and glaring, her face flushed with wine and sudden anger. The fact that she is still slightly shaky on her feet diminishes the effect somewhat, but only a little.*

You do realize I was joking about the whole starving thing, right? I mean, I may be out of work for now but I'm not a char'ty case, you know. I can't take that - I barely know you really, not that I would take it if I you were the oldest of old family friends, my mother may be crazy but she's got a steady job and we are not that bad off, all right? Just because I got fired and I let you buy me a drink to be friendly does not mean I don't have any pride or I'm in some kind of desp'rate situation - *She shakes her head, as if trying to clear it, and takes a few steps back towards the door, then a few more.* I'd - I'd better get home. I guess I'll . . . see you around . . . I mean, if I get the job here. And if not, I'll go looking somewhere else - *she glares ferociously -* but I will get one, and I do not need help!

*Bereft of her usual dancer's grace, she stumbles out the door.*

[OOC: And, since I unfortunately cannot stay up until 8 AM this morning, this is my exit cue for now. Besides, from what I've observed, you can't have a conversation here without it ending in sort of angst . . . ;)]

*Completely stunned by Meg's sudden change in behavior, Mat gapes after her for several minutes before he is able to haul his jaw off the floor and turn back to his cup of wine.*

Blood and bloody ashes!

*He takes a gulp of wine.*

First Moiraine -

*And another.*

Now this.

*He takes one last swallow before slamming the cup down in unison with his last word - *

Women.

*Scowling, he gets a room key from the bar, scoops up his money pouch from where Meg left it, and stalks in the direction of the guest quarters.*