milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

When she had come in this morning, Barbara hadn't been sure whether she was angry at the semi-cruelty of knowing this was temporary or simply deliriously grateful to have her legs back. Judging by the near constant laughter and the huge smile on her face, she's settled for the latter.

While she normally tries to keep a low profile in the bar, today there's a good chance you've seen her. It might be because she refuses to walk sedately around like a normal person. Oh no, she feels that the only proper method of travel is running and cartwheeling and handspringing and maybe flipping a bit. She also seems to move around at random, sometimes just because she can.

It really is marvelous.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Nice."

The compliment comes after a particularly acrobatic handspring, and it's coming from a red-and-black striped Maine Coon cat, draped over the back of a chair.

Barbara blinks, smile still settled firmly across her face, "Are you normally a cat?"

"Nope. Halloween got me," he replies.

The 'costume' doesn't seem to bother him.

"Looks like you got the short end of the stick on this one. Unless you have always had a secret dream to be a cat?"

"Nah. But this isn't so bad. At least I still have opposable thumbs."

He flexes a forepaw at her, and hey, whaddaya know. Yay polydactyly.

"A friend of mine is stuck as a rat, and someone else I know wound up with glowing pudding for a brain."

"Yeah, well, I got legs!" she exclaims.

"You don't usually have them?"

Cue feline headtilt.

"Well, they don't usually work."

"...You know, there're people here who can probably fix that," he points out.

"I'm not sure how permanently it would stick," she says. "And... in a way, I guess I'm used to it."

He shrugs.

"Your call, I guess."

"So what's your story?" she eyes the cat who's not usually a cat.

"Who I am, what I am, where I'm from, why I'm at Milliways...?" he asks, folding his paws in front of himself.

"All of the above?" she smiles.

"My name's Axel," he replies, first thing. "And I'm here because Milliways is the closest thing to a home I've ever had." He pauses. "That, and my former associates can't kill me here."

He gives another shrug, like that part doesn't matter much.

"Seems like a reasonable reason to stay," Barbara nods. "I take it that they would rather like to if the opportunity presented itself?"

He nods.

"Yeah. My ex-boss is actually around here sometimes, but I've managed not to bump into him yet," he says. "And he'd do a whole lot worse than kill me, if he had the chance. The Organization doesn't have much use for traitors."

Yes, that's a capital-O Organization.

"Oh, one of those groups, huh? Sorry you have to deal with that," she says quietly.

"It could be worse," Axel replies. "They can't do anything to me here, and... I have friends."

Friends are good.

"What about you?" he asks. "Can I get your name?"

"Today," she smiles, "I'm Batgirl." Then she laughs, "It's been a long time since I could say that. Feels good."

"I'm glad for you. So, who are you when you're not Batgirl?" he asks. "Or," he continues, tilting his head slightly. "Is it bad manners to ask?"

She considers for a moment, then shrugs, "Well, it's not bad manners really. It's just that some people here don't know I used to be her. I'd sort of like to avoid spreading it around too much."

"No offense intended, of course."

"None taken," Axel replies. "I understand. There aren't many around here who know who I used to be, and while my name's no secret, I don't generally advertise the rest."

"Yeah. It's a pretty interesting place that way," she glances around the bar and shakes her head. "Weird place to call home, I suppose."

"I also have a place with Hephaestos back in Mt. Etna, but I spend most of my time here," he says. "But this is certainly an interesting place to live. The living and the dead, gods, and powers, and mere mortals aaaaaall tossed into the same box, and left to our own devices."