milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jocasta is in the bar, at the piano, playing a gentle soothing piece, a love song from a recent Plinge Opera.

The idea, mostly, is to keep her mind off the friend in the infirmary, but also practice and to add to the atmosphere.

She plays well, but is unforgiving when she makes a mistake, heading back to the beginning of a movement and starting again. There aren't many mistakes, though.

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Jocasta glances at him, slightly worried, and then at the door.

"Do you think she would?"

Mike joins her in looking at the door.

"No idea, but stranger things have...she?"

"Time," Jocasta explains. "She."

"Huh. Never would have seen that coming. But then again, time waits for no man does make a bit more sense now."

"You didn't know she was a she?" jocasta asks, a little confused. "Is she a he on your world?"

"She's not much of anything back home. Like uh...an idea and not a person."

He thinks of Death.

"But this place kind of does wierd things to ideas."

"I don't know about this place," Jocasta says, looking around. "Ideas have to have form somewhere."

"Yeah, but the tend more often than not to actually form here."

Mike thinks about all his wild ideas, and how many of them have actually come to fruition between these walls.

"Trust me."

Jocasta glances at him, assessing his trustworthiness with a much more amused smile than earlier.

"In that respect only."

"Smart lady."

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