(no subject)

[probability-cat.livejournal.com]

This woman is strange. Really strange. It's like she has chosen to exaggeratedly exemplify the woman's habit (although some men would have it that women consider it an art form) of being unpredictable.

She's at the bar, and it's kind of hard to pinpoint when she arrived; although if you happen to be one of the few to know when she arrived, you're not sure where she is. She's just like that, is all.

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[lucky-coyote.livejournal.com]

Johnny comes down the steps into the bar, and sees a woman. Sort of. Or at least, he thought he did.

Instantly, the luck in the bar feels different. It feels weird.

He turns toward where he'd -thought- he'd seen someone, and hopefully ends up addressing them.

"Er, hello?"

[probability-cat.livejournal.com]

After a moment, her head swivels towards him like a radar beam seeking tone, eventually zeroing in on him. "Hello."

She squints at him, her blue, blue eyes magnified all out of proportion by her inch-thick glasses. "Haven't met you before. What's your name?"




(ooc: Will be on and off today, have to do the four-letter think called 'work')

[lucky-coyote.livejournal.com]

"Johnny," he says, relieved that he -wasn't- seeing things after all. "Johnny Destiny. ... Nice glasses." And he means it, too.

[probability-cat.livejournal.com]

She peers at him closer. "Nice name. I'm Schrödinger's Cat."

[lucky-coyote.livejournal.com]

"Schrodinger," he echoes. "Not a bad handle, either. Your first visit to the Bar?" He'd peer back, but with her, it seems a bit tricky. Even with the big eyes.

[lucky-coyote.livejournal.com]

He pauses, then considers. "... Or should I call you Cat?"

[probability-cat.livejournal.com]

"Call me Cat. I really don't like that slimy weasel."

[lucky-coyote.livejournal.com]

He blinks. "Okay, then. Cat. ... I'm assuming the weasel would be the Schrodinger part. ... Don't suppose you've got a reason worth sharing?"