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[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard, at his usual table with a view of the Observation Windows, books and papers spread out before him. They are being ignored at the moment- the british officer is either lost in thought or dealing with a headache. Or both.

Comments

[argyle_princess]

He looks safe. Reliable. Sober.

So there's a blonde girl in a pink sweater who has decided she may as well talk to him as anyone here.

"Hello. Don't suppose you know why I keep finding this bar in my boarding school, do you?"

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard looks up- and then stands as well, giving her a nod. "Ah- Milliways, you mean?" A faint smile, and he shrugs.

"Apparently it tends to do that, Miss. Take people from various places, at various times, and brings them here. Some people can come and go, if they are alive."

[argyle_princess]

"Oh."

It's pretty much the same thing Logan told her. Only he was drunk and she was fairly distracted.

"So I'm not dreaming? Or I'm dreaming that I'm dreaming?"

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head quietly, and pulls out a chair for her. "With respect, miss, its not a dream. On quite good authority, I've been told. Its rather sort of a magic, is the best explanation that I have heard, though I'm sure there are others."

[argyle_princess]

She's surprised by the chair pulling out and it shows. The only guy who ever did that for her before was a waiter at the restraunt Daddy took her to for her birthday last year. "Um, thanks," she says, a little uncomfortable.

"Magic? You mean like real magic or like David Blaine kind of stuff?"

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

He bites his lip, before carefully sitting back down in his own chair, and watching for a wait rat.

"-David who, Miss?" Wellard shakes his head. "Um, the real sort, and not the tricks performers do. I've even seen some used- apparently its much more common in other places."

[argyle_princess]

"David Blaine?" she says, hopefully. "Magician illusionist sort. Get himself frozen and lives in glass boxes and all."

"Other places than what?"

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

"... Other worlds and times. Which may be why I really have no idea who this David Blaine is." He blinks.

[argyle_princess]

"He's really not all that important," she says with a bit of a shrug.

Even if you know who he is, he's still just pretty much a freaky guy who keeps doing stupid things for no good reason.

"I'm Hannah Griffith, by the way."

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary has books and papers too!

. . . well, papers, at least. Maps, to be specific.

Yes, she's been studying them for weeks - but there's no such thing as too prepared.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard cannot argue with maps. (Just wait until it hits him, that from the air maps can be drawn with much more accuracy than on the ground.) He looks over to the papers with a faint smile.

"So, if I were to ask you the best roads to travel in India, Miss Mary-"

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"I would ask you where you wished to arrive," Mary informs him, serenely.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard has been reading Kipling. The mun has not, so, she does her best.

"Bombay."

He stands up, to look at Mary's maps while she answers.

[white_flowers]

Maps are interesting things, oh goodness yes, and so useful in telling you how to find your way from one place to another.

On her distant throne in a castle outside of any known location in time and space, the White Rider laughs softly and coldly, cruel with malice, as she watches young Henry Wellard in the smoke of her glass globe on its silver stand.

"Why, I have a map of my own, cariad," she murmurs. "A good thing it would be, to test the strength of it, before I trust to the road, now, would it not?"

One hand rises to brush the threads of the bracelet on her wrist-- and then she twists it suddenly, pulling at the blood-red strand.

"Let me feel the beat of your blood, my power twisting through you as this thread twists, let me know that you are bound to me!"

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

And Mary's maps blur and sway under his eyes- Wellard grabs the edge of the table quickly as the whole room follows suit.

("A little laudanum for the pain, Mister Wellard?")

But that is all it was, pain rushing through him, pain and the cold drift that would have once been the laudanum- But it could not be, not anymore. Or at least, that is what he once thought.

Pain, and cold and everything swimming around him- He screws his eyes shut against the room moving, trying to trust in the solid feel of the table under his hands-

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary is watching him, with a small scowl.

"Are you ill?" she demands. "You look as if you might be ill."

She pushes herself to a standing position, regarding him narrowly, before adding, in a stern tone, "If you are ill you ought to be taken to the infirmary before you make yourself more ill and other people catch it."

[white_flowers]

It should be impossible for a cold breeze to flutter the edges of the maps, lying forgotten on the table. Impossible, in a room so close and bright and full of people, with the only doors to lake and beyond sealed tightly, trapping the patrons inside without escape.

And yet the breeze whispers through anyway, as the cold force of the White Rider's power surges in Wellard's blood, spreading the icy feel of poison through him with each beat of his heart.

[gramarye1971]

On one of Merriman's perambulations of the bar, he catches sight of Wellard at the table near the observation windows. A quick stop at the bar for a cup of tea, and he heads in the direction of Wellard's table.

A distraction for his current concerns would be, in his opinion, more than welcome.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Considering the dark circles under his eyes, and the shaky hands holding a cup of tea, Wellard might be a new concern for Merriman. The last time he looked like this-

There was a little matter of opiate withdrawl.

However, he looks up at the approaching Commodore, and gives him a nod. Visably pulling himself together. "Mr Lyon."

[gramarye1971]

Well, it is a distraction from current concerns. Even if it might mean that another is simply to be added to the existing list.

'Good evening, Mr Wellard.' Dark eyes study the young man thoughtfully for a moment, before glancing down at the papers spread out on the table. 'The work continues apace, then?'

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

"For the most part, yes." Wellard nods to Merriman, glancing at the papers. "Though with any luck, soon we'll be taking the work outside, and start building. I'll have to speak to the Head Bartender, but many people work on projects outside, so I do not think it will be an issue."

"I haven't had a chance to thank you, for delivering that letter for me."

[gramarye1971]

'I doubt you will meet with opposition. You may end up having to fend off the attentions of the curious, though.' He sips his tea. 'But that is a common enough thing, and you may even be able to enlist the help of others who are good with their hands..'

A pause, as he replaces the cup on its saucer. 'And as for the letter delivery, I am glad to have been of assistance. In the situation, I could have done naught else.'

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

"Perhaps, but only if they do agree that it is possible to get a ship up in the air." Vaguely amused, though so far it had only been one little girl that had argued the point.

Wellard nods. "Even so, my thanks, Commodore. Though I've been curious- who brought things back?"

[gramarye1971]

Merriman thinks for a moment.

'When I made the initial arrangements, before delivering the letter, I also made a few enquiries about how to effect a transfer at a specific time and date. I must admit that I am not quite certain how it all works, but...well, I am thankful it did.'

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard blinks, and nods slowly, thinking over this. "I had wondered if there was someone else here, from around the same time as I had been, perhaps."