milliways_bar | (no subject)

Tom's table is near Draco's. Another fellow in a barrister's robe!

"Pardon me, er, sir."

He's awfully young to be a barrister.

"Do we know each other, by chance?"

He blinked his eyes open, and peered over with confusion. He slowly sat up, with no clue who he was.

"Hmmm... what? Er, who are you? And where are we?" He then noticed his own robes. Well, that's odd.

"We're at a pub, it would seem. Perhaps taking a break from court? Being barristers and all."

"Whut? Are you sure of that?" he eyed his robes some more. "Doesn't seem right somehow."

He rummaged in his pockets, and found a wand, "Er, what barrister would have this?"

"Ah. You must be a conductor as well. I wonder if our orchestra is about? Or if we're taking a class, or something?"

Hmmm. Odd.

"But we must know each other. I can't imagine we wouldn't. A fellow I met said he had an ID with his name on it. I'm not sure what and ID is, but he said it was in his wallet, which I don't have. I think I might be called John, though."

He frowned and checked his pockets. But then noticed the ring on his right hand. "Ooh, this says a name, and a crest I think. Malfoy... urgh, I don't think I like that."

He then asked, "If you know me, do you know my name? This Malfoy can't be it."

"Malfoy? I should say not."

He considers Draco a moment.

"You look like a Timothy."

Draco blinked at that. Did seem slightly familiar. Maybe heard it somewhere?

"Timothy Malfoy? Or maybe just Tim? No, that seems too informal somehow. Probably Timothy. The Malfoy though... I don't know. I like Black. That seems more solid. Timothy Black."

"By Jove, I think that must be it, Timothy. As for my last name..."

He ponders a moment.

"I'm coming up blank. What do you think?"

'Timothy' pondered it, "Hmmm... John ...Arch?" The term did seem familiar.

"Could be, could be. Johnathan Arch. Oh yes, I like the sound of that."

"Sounds reasonable, certainly."

"Well. I wonder what we should do? I mean to say, we know our names, at least. Perhaps we should look out the... I say, do you see a door?"

Draco glanced over, and shook his head, "No, I don't. How did we get in here?"

"I- have no idea."

He scratches his head.

"I thought perhaps this was a pub in some village having a festival. But now I'm not so sure. I certainly hope we're not victims of foul play."

"...Isn't that when you're dead? We're not dead, right?"

"No. Perhaps we've been waylaid."

He eyes the smarmier people in the room.

There are some smarmy ones, indeed.

He looked around, "Who do you think could have done it? And how could they make us lose our memories?"

He feels his head.

"Have you been hit on the head? I can't feel a sore spot on mine..."

He patted his own head, "No, my head doesn't hurt at all. I don't think it's that."

"Well, I'll be dashed, I don't know what to think. We can't go home, because we don't know where home is. Blast it all!"

This is very upsetting.

"...Are we just supposed to sleep here then? In a pub?"

"It's a large place. Maybe it's an inn, as well?"

"Oh maybe. Can we ask somebody? Should be an innkeeper, right?" He brightened some at that, and glanced around.

"Look, there's a fellow behind the bar. I'll go ask."

He goes to speak with a very confused bartender and returns with two keys.

"Success! They have rooms for us."

"Brilliant, Jonathan! Cheers," He replied as he took his key.

Marian wandered up to the sleeping person, having had her hypothesis only further proved by the last sleeping person. Clearing her throat, in hopes of rousing the person she said.

"Excuse me?"

Actually he was now awake.

"Oh yes? What do you want?"

Awake wasn't just as good, it was even better. She didn't have to feel guilty for waking them if they were lost, too.

"I am taking a survey of the people here. A lot of people seem to have lost all their memory. You wouldn't happen to know who you are, would you?"

"I think so? Timothy Black. I don't know where we are though, do you?"

"No idea yet." Marian said with a small frown.

"I'm just getting through everyone I can find to see who all is in this state. Though instead of trying to remember you all by" ---amazingly brilliant--"nicknames or how you look, the last girl gave me the idea to give everyone cards with numbers."

He considered that, "Makes sense. Do you have a card then? I mean do we take it, or do you give us one?"

Marian looked for a moment, and then raised a hand. "Actually, I can do that right now. I'll be right back."

"Fair enough," he nodded, and waited. Rocking back and forth on his heels thoughtfully.

Mostly likely an hour or so passes, before this happens. But, even if they don't remember, this is Milliways and in Milliways time can end up doing whatever it wants.

"No new news yet," Marian said walking up again, this time with a handful of things. "This is a name tag, with a number in order for how you were found. And there's a place for your name on it under the number."

Handing over the tag on a lanyard, she says, "You're number 7."

Vulpes the completely lost at some point walks right into Draco while busy staring at the observation window.

"Sorry!" he squawks, toppling backwards. "Uh, I didn't see you there."

He's talking with an American accent. A really BAD American accent.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" He first snapped as he turned, and then blinked, "..Oh, uh, no harm I think?" He was now wearing a lanyard with a numbered card saying 7, and underneath the name, 'Timothy Black'.

He then noticed the outfit, "You're dressed like me! Maybe we're from the same place? Though I don't think we're barristers."

Harry, by now, has a lanyard too. It has the number 12 and the name "Vulpes Blanc."

"My brother Harry said we're wizards," Harry suggests. "I think I'm a bit young to be a barrister. And he had spells in his pocket. And a wand. Have you got a wand?"

"Wizards? Really." He held out his own wand, "Yes! I have one too. So I'm also a wizard? Excellent!"

"I guess we are. I don't remember any spells, though."

"Me neither. Doesn't do us much then does it? Ought to know spells to know magic. Wait, you said your brother has spells in his pocket? Did any of them work?"

"...no," Harry admits. "But they rhymed and sounded pretty. We thought maybe we weren't using the wands right or something."

"Rhymed? Maybe. A certain wave, or you have to say it a certain way?"

"Maybe. Sort of afraid of blowing something up, though..."

His eyes widened, and he took a half step back, "...That does put a damper on things it does."