milliways_bar | (no subject)

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((OOM: Things improve.))

There is a rather stunned looking man standing in the doorway of Milliways. He hasn't seen the place for almost a year and a half and it's ... exactly as he remembered it to be, even if he spent quite a bit of time insisting to himself that it could have been some elaborate hallucination.

At any rate, more about him. His hair is trimmed, though somewhat touseled, and he appears to be wearing a khaki uniform and heavy overcoat of the same colour. The sleeves are rolled up and he is dirty.

Dusty is perhaps a more accurate term. The thick goggles are a hint at what he's just come from - his motor bike is parked just outside in the background.

He is blinking. "Well, this certainly isn't the motor shop."

It's hard to tell if he's really bothered by this. The grin on his face suggests that it is in fact a smaller blessing than a curse.

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A slight nod. "Ah...yes, Winston Churchill. He'd asked me to call him Winnie. Odd fellow..."

But a good sort of odd.

"Not so much here," Draco flipped forward some pages. "More so in the second World War, he's Prime Minister then. Highly instrumental in that one." Completely unaware of time travel factors and paradoxes.

He nods.

"He's quite an interesting man, from what I've seen. It doesn't surprise me that he'll be important. But don't tell me so much detail, or it might compromise things."

"What? Oh, all right. I won't, though according to this, he's very brilliant too."

"Oh, I Know That much. He's the one who was a help in the Cairo Conference. Quite a nice man, if a bit heavy on the cigars."

Says the man who is now lighting a cigarette to smoke.

Draco eyed the cigarette, "Well, our kind are more partial to pipes usually."

"How very odd." There is a pause.

"The Dwarf said the very same thing. Quite a talented smithy, too."

"Dwarf? Haven't met them yet." Draco remarked with a careless shrug, and turned another page in his book. Though this was with his wand, casually flipping through them with a jab of the wand every so often.

"How is it..." He muses, watching Draco. "That Wizards have not ceased to be able to move their limbs in an effective way? I find it quite odd that you exert such little effort to move something as simple as a page."

Draco shrugged, "Rather do it with magic. Easier." And did we mention the book was hovering at eye level for easier reading? No? Well it is.

"We still walk and get around when we have to." Also he's taking full advantage of the fact that as being a no longer underage wizard, he can do magic as often as he likes. And this place wasn't subject to Ministry laws about keeping it out of sight of the muggles, even better.

"The point is that you think of such things as an inconvenience. Goodness knows that I would be quite the small boy, had I not walked for miles and miles around the private school."

"Well, the public school I attended, was huge. Have to walk to get around there. And we have sports so keep pretty active." And he did look rather lean, though that has much to do with his fast metabolism, and light diet than anything else.

A nod. "Well, of course. Sports are quite important to a young man's life, if I remember correctly. But I worry that things like reading a book with a wand will result in the loss of important skills."

Like swordfighting.

If Lawrence looked carefully, he might notice the dagger sheathed, and attached to a belt, just peeking out from his wizard robes.

"Like what?"

Parker is right. Everyone wears swords nowadays.

He notices - but because someone carries a dagger does not mean that they can use it.

"Proper swordfighting, shooting. I would hesitate to say cooking, for the witches."

"Well, both wizards and witches cook. Though in my family's case, that's the servants' job usually," Draco replied.

"No shooting. We have magic. Though branched out into fighting with a blade. Just in case, been some problems with magic at times."

He patted the dagger with the Egyptian scarab hilt to it, "One of my current tutors gave me this, along with the advice not to rely solely on magic. Been seeing his point somewhat."

There's a nod.

"Yes, I do think that would be a most unwise path." There isn't much else he would like to say to that.

"But guns do have their advantages, after all."

Draco nodded a bit thoughtful as he looked down at the page. "Certainly do, by the look of this. Though our spells are very fast too. How exactly do these guns work?"

"Well, a bullet is projected out of the barrel of the gun. They go very fast - I could compare them to a spell if you perhaps showed me."

Or he could just show Draco the gun, but that may be a bad idea.

Yeeeeah, that would be a bad idea at the moment. Especially in the bar.

Draco shrugged, and then quickly did a hex causing a salt shaker on a nearby table to shatter. He then did a 'Reparo' to fix it again."

"Hm."

He pauses, as if considering.

"I think that perhaps the spell is faster, but bullets have a habit of becoming lodged. More damaging. Dangerous."

He shakes his head. "Bullets are not good things, despite what that book may tell you. Death is quite a serious matter." Hypocrite.

Draco got very quiet at that, and briefly he seemed very old for his years.

"...I know. I know about death."

He gets an approving nod, but there's an edge to it.

"Good boy. Care for some tea? And perhaps a new set of robes, judging from the look of yours now."

Draco just nodded at that, "Cheers."

He then wondered, "New robes? What's wrong with these?" He glanced down at them in confusion.

"Well...those ones have "I WISH I HAD A WAND TO PLAY WITH" written on the back. I assumed you knew."

An arched brow.