First Entrance...

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

So, a one-eyed man walks into a bar.

And, no, he doesn't say 'ow', because it's not that kind of bar and weren't you paying attention?

But, he walks into a bar. Neither tall nor short, but he's dressed in black clothes that, once upon a time, were nice. But now the velvet is worn and stained and, really, the one-eyed man needs a bath. Or two. And new clothes.

For the moment, though, he stands in the doorway, swaying slightly, and looking rather...

bemused.

[ooc: and I love you all but I have to run home, am happy to do slowtimes or fade!]

Comments

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

There is, as it happens, a fairy in the bar.

It's late, and so he feels this constitutes keeping a low profile-- even if he does still smell of wild pansy. But hey, new people can't even begin to suspect everything he's been up to, right? Marlowe gets an amused glance.

"Well, well. Hullo."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

The doorway isn't moving. This is good. This is also why Marlowe leans against it, pretending nonchalance.

"I seem to have lost my bearings," he says in a soft voice.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

"As one will, upon occasion," Puck says sympathetically, coming a little nearer. He likes the door these days; he can actually go through.

"Where did you see them last before they escaped you?"

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

A quick smile at that, despite everything, and it's amazing how young he looks when he does that.

"The Hanged Man."

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

It is, a little. Puck returns the smile curiously.

"Charming," he observes. "I take it that is indeed an establishment, rather than an individual."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"I did not ask. I thought it for the best."

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

"Quite sensible of you," Puck says approvingly. "Though if it were a man, I doubt he was much pleased."

He is standing not too far in front of Marlowe at this point, still regarding him with an easy curiosity. Then he sweeps a bow like a host.

"Will you enter, sir, if it please you?"

(Maybe he wants to see if Marlowe can pass a field sobriety test.)

[will_scarlett]

The clothing looks closer to Will's time than any he's seen in Bar for a good long while, so a medieval man in green with a sword at his side comes over with a tankard of ale,

"Fair eve, milord, an welcome to Milliways."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

The one-eyed man glances at Will and, even drunk, there is an assessing look. Mayhap it is the sword.

"Milliways?" He repeats. His voice is soft, with a London accent, but it's the London of 1602.

[will_scarlett]

"Aye, milord, Milliways, the Bar at the End o'the Universe,"

Will's been introducing new people today so he uses a gesture worthy of Allan to show the Window.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

There should be a rule against showing such things to drunken atheists after they've had a really, really bad day.

Marlowe goes...not 'pale' so much as 'grey' as he stares at the Window.

[will_scarlett]

Will quickly moves through the crowd to Bar before pressing a glass of whiskey into the man's hand,

"Drink that, milord, twill 'elp, tis safe in 'ere."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"Safe? With the fires of hell out yonder window? Boy, I think not." Still, for all the coolness (and fear) in his soft, soft voice, Marlowe takes a drink from the whisky.

[berryberryraz.livejournal.com]

Bemused, and attractive.

There should be a rule against letting the goo girl meet people in their first week at Milliways.

Luckily for this particular translucent young lady, there isn't.

She'll just be staring at the one-eyed man and grinning, then. Don't mind her. That glint in her eye is probably just the light.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

She is getting stared at.

In utter bemusement.

[berryberryraz.livejournal.com]

Raspberry raises her eyebrows, a questioning grin alighting upon her elfin face. What are you looking at, asks the tilt of her head, and why are you so flustered about it?, finishes the delicate catch of her lower lip between her teeth.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

Well this...this. This is something that he could not even dream about, and sadly for all her seductive flirting, Raspberry only gets a soft, disbelieving (and mocking) laugh.

[berryberryraz.livejournal.com]

(That wasn't flirting, Raspberry would argue. He'd know if she were trying to flirt with him. That was just making fun. Luckily, the subject hasn't come up.)

"What's so funny?" she asks after a moment, smile still present and accounted for.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"Ah, darlin'. I don't know where to begin." His voice, as has been stated else where, is soft with a London accent.

[cheevy.livejournal.com]

Some people always look a little bemused. In Miniver's case, it has to do with how he always basically is, to some extent, which is why it doesn't occur to him that the stranger might be new. It doesn't actually occur to Miniver to say hello, either, because he's too busy concocting ways a fellow might lose an eye at the rate of about 80 potentially good story ideas per second.

But if the newcomer is sensitive to being stared at and happens to notice, he'd see a dark-haired fellow with Irish features and blue bassett-hound eyes dressed in clothing the Salvation Army probably wouldn't accept as a donation, bellbottoms circa 1960's Hippie America and an army jacket with enough holes in it to make one wonder why he bothers. His expression is that of someone whose mind is very rarely all in one place and his hands are stained with ink.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

And Marlowe's mind ignores the clothes as part of a circus or act, takes in the expression and ink and comes up with 'student'. After all, all students are actors.

[cheevy.livejournal.com]

It's a close enough diagnosis. He was just copying a student's notes for money. And he does look young enough.

The missing eye is fascinating. There is no way, Miniver feels, that it can possibly not have an interesting story behind it. So instead of asking, he picks one out of his metaphorical hat and guesses.

"Was it an enraged harpy?" he enquires dazedly, giving no sign of what he might possibly be alluding to.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"On the contrary, the lass spoke very politely, even if I did wish that the silly girl hadn't said a word."

[cheevy.livejournal.com]

Smoothe.

Very.

"Do they really have three breasts?"

He could mean harpies, or he could mean regular girls. It's actually entirely possible that he has never had the desire or opportunity to find out about the latter for himself. Liches do not count.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"Breasts tend to come in even numbers. Two then four, and so on," Marlowe says, thoughtfully.