milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[Pre-Milliways: The Lonely Life Unfolds.]

So many colours, I never knew there could be so many colours- more than steel, more than sapphire, unnammed colours on wings -more than one colour- and colours not known to man nor beast.

Perhaps now I am the Moth. I reject your silly labels, I shall no longer be called Patient, no longer Renfield-

"What is this place?"

[ooc: Okay folken. I sleep now, because I want to be up before 10 am tomorrow. ;) Tag if you want, I will pick up any and all tags.]

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"Good for you! I am happy for you. God has blessed you well, then." Renfield jots something down as he spies a wait rat go by.

"What is that? Is that a giant rat?"

"Yes." She says when she sees it pass by, "They're the waiters here? I don't know why, but the service is very good. I've had worse in places run by humans?"

"One would think it unsanitary to have rats handle things." Renfield's brow furrows and he writes down more notes.

"So you live here, primarily, do you eat and sleep here as well?"

"They're very clean rats?" She offers, "Whistler and I have a room here, but mostly we live in San Francisco. That's home, this is where we come for medical things and the supplements we need to survive."

"Medical facilities? That is useful. I do not know if I would utilise them, but it is helpful to know they are there." Renfield taps his chin thoughtfully.

"I might like to have a room."

"You can start a tab with the Bar. She's magic, too. Just tell her that you want a room, and she'll give you a key. She can also give you food and drink and anything not alive, if you ask?" She smiles at him, and points, "If you need it, the infirmary is down there."

"The Bar is magic? Could I, perhaps, get a new coat?" Renfield's clothing leaves something to be desired- a proper gentleman must look put-together at all times, and the tattered and faded prison-like garb won't cut it.

"I will ask the Lady Bar for a key later, after our talk."

"Uh huh. Just ask, and she can get you new clothing. I got things from her before I was able to go to San Francisco and get clothing there." She smiles again (Suzi smiles a lot), "She can get you catalogs to look at, too, if you're not sure what kind of coat you want?"

"A catalogue, yes, I think I've seen one of those before. We don't get to subscribe to periodicals in the institution, but sometimes the attendents bring newspapers and the like and leave them after they are done reading." Renfield smiles, standing. "I think I should like some tea. Would you like some as well my lady?"

"Thank you, yes." She says with a smile, "That would be nice. You can get any kind of tea at all from the Bar."

With a bow, Renfield excuses himself to see to some tea.

"Lady Bar? I am Raphael Marcus Renfield, pleased to meet you. May I ask a favour?" He waits, hands folded in front of himself.

Nothing happens. "Perhaps I may speak out of turn? I would like some tea for the Lady and myself. You may choose."

A teapot with fresh herbal tea appears, alongside two tea cups on a tray with handles.

In addition, a key to a room appears next to the pot.

"Thank you, Lady Bar." He picks up the tray and carries it carefully back to Suzi. "Here we are."

"She can't talk." Suzi says when he gets back, "Although if you ask a direct question, sometimes she'll give you a note? Thank you very much for the tea." Her smile is bright when he comes back to sit again.

"She gave me a key. Room 49. I hope it has a window." Or not, depending on his mood.

"I should like a book, but I will gather one later."

"There is a library, too. I can show you, or tell you how to get to it?" She offers, "I draw pretty good maps, if you want a map to the library. I don't know where room forty nine is."

"That is perfectly all right, I will go exploring in a little while." He pats her hand, much like a grandfather would.

Mostly because, at 59, he could be her grandfather, possibly.

Maybe.

In some worlds.

Suzi firmly expects to be dead by fifty. Yes. He could be her grandfather. She grins, just a little, "I hope you like what you find."

"I do too my dear." He sips some of his tea, holding the cup carefully with both hands.

There's something oddly comforting about Milliways- like he's free from his own mind here, or at least, able to better control his state.

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