milliways_bar | (no subject)

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She didn't know why she hadn't gone home. It wasn't like she was stuck in the bar. She'd told Suzi that she could see the door. And she could. So by what she'd been told she wasn't bound to this place. But something had kept her from going home. Back to Hannibal King. The only male that she did trust nowadays. The only guy to back her up when her life was in danger. The day before this she'd asked the Bar for a room key and had gotten it, slept in that room... or at least had tried to anyways. Now though she's back downstairs and laying out on the couch. Though she's not entirely with it and she's staring off into space.

Distractions would be good. Before she ends up just taking everything she's been bottling up inside and breaks down.

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Seymour is all about the sweet understanding...just not so much when it comes to crazy, modern music.

It takes Seymour a moment to work out what that means. "Oh! The future. I'm from '62." He gazes once more at Abigail's strange, futuristic music-playing machine.

She blinks and stares at him a moment. "Wow. So you're from the past. What kind of music do you listen to then?"

"Rock 'n' roll. Elvis, Little Richard, Fats Domino, Chubby Checker, Buddy Holly, Bill Haley and the Comets...." It occurs to him right about now that she might not actually know who he's talking about. Thus, he looks quizzically at her.

"Not a bad set of groups." They're before her time but that doesn't mean she hasn't heard of them.

"Oh, thanks." He's rather relieved that some of his favourites are still around. Or will be known to the younger generation. "Could go on. Mostly I like whatever the local station's playing."

"I don't think I've listened to the radio in a very long time."

Seymour looks at her curiously, then glances down at her ipod.

"Oh. 'Cuz of that thing?"

"Partly because of my ipod, yes. It holds all my favorite stuff in it." She states with a slight shrug. "But also because my mother didn't listen to the radio all that often when I was growing up."

Seymour mouths the word 'ipod' to himself, to help him remember it in case he ever sees one again.

He chuckles lightly. "You couldn't get away from the radio when I was a kid. But now everyone wants a television." Seymour being one of those people.

"You'd get along with Hannibal if its television you wanted to watch. He watches it a lot more than I do. I have to have the nice cool outdoors."

Seymour looks wistful at the thought of owning a television. "I'd love to get one someday." He nods to the back door. "You seen the area out back?"

She shakes her head slightly. "No. I haven't seen the area out back." She didn't even know there was an out back.

"Well, there is one." Thank you, Seymour.

"It's this big lakefront area - it's winter outside right now, so the lake's frozen up - and there's a big forest nearby." Seymour brightens at the mention of the forest. "Apparently Christmas is coming up here soon."

"It's nearly Christmas where I'm from." She likes the idea of it being cold and wintery even if she doesn't look like she's dressed for the cold wintery days. She does, however, give Seymour a bright smile. "Thanks."

Seymour shakes his head. "First week of September where I'm from." This is said in a tone of complaint - why does time have to be so weird here? And more importantly, why does everyone else get to have Christmas?

"Oh, you're welcome." He smiles back, a little awkwardly. "You know, I suppose it should be good that this place follows seasons, but it just seems to make everything more confusing."

"It'd probably be even more confusing if it didn't follow some set of seasons. Where you can't have a certain season one place you can have one in another."

"Yeah," Seymour replies, but in a tone that hints that he really didn't get what she just said.

He checks on his plant at that moment, eyes it critically, then smiles at what he sees.

He suddenly looks around. Not seeing anyone official-looking, he decides to ask his question. "Say...did we make it to the moon? America, I mean."

Abby isn't entirely sure what it is that Seymour is looking for. Not really anyways when he goes to looking around. "Actually, we did make it to the moon." Back in 1969.

Seymour isn't entirely sure either - he just wanted to make sure there was no one who looked obviously like the time travel police. Not that he knows what those look like.

Seymour grins. "That's great. Just like Kennedy said. Golly, I can't wait to see that." The greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked!

"Aw, look, even Zinny's happy that we get to the moon." The plant looks exactly the same.

She won't say anything about the plant. That's just a bit weird. "Well, you've got a few years to go before it happens."

Some people think their pets understand every word they say. Seymour thinks plants do.

"But it's something to look forward to," Seymour says, with a smile. He forces himself not to ask anything more about the future - even though there are a lot more things he'd like to know.

Yeah, but curiousity can get a person in trouble too. "So how'd you come up with his name?"

"Hmm? Oh, Zinny! He's a Peruvian zinnia. Peru-y sounds too weird. I like to name plants after what they are - helps me keep track of them. Not that I need to worry about that now," he adds, with a light shrug.

"Oh? How come?" Now he's got her curious.

There's a pause, then Seymour comes up with, "Haven't had a lotta time to pick up any more plants. Work, uh, keeps me busy."

Poverty keeps him plant-less.