(no subject)

[realmrsreynolds]

Events in Jefferson District have quieted some; Dorothy's even starting to be more willing to go about the business of running her home on her own.

Doesn't mean she's not still visiting her friend every day. Sometimes she even brings her fruit.

But Sallie can't ever say where she's getting real mangoes from.

Comments

[e_delmar]

Ennis ain't been seen much lately, that's for true.

But it can't be said he ain't been here, and here he is.



And there she is. The one-

Ennis taps out his cigarette and gives her something that might be a smile.

Or it could be indigestion.

[realmrsreynolds]

The hat's the first thing Sallie sees, and misses the smile almost completely.

The woman just freezes for a split second, then curses herself for it as she quietly orders the fruit from Bar.

[e_delmar]

"Sallie."

It's a question, almost. Having trouble trusting your memory, it ain't the greatest. And Ennis, this Ennis, he ain't so good at things like apologies, 'specially if he can't quite seem to figure why he feels like he needs to, so instead he comes closer, and there's a drink waiting for her, too.

[realmrsreynolds]

"Yes?"

It was almost Yes, Ennis?, but Sallie already sounds too anxious.

The drink is almost viscous in its blackness -- coffee. One hand wraps around the mug.

[e_delmar]

Uh.

One toe drags across the ground, and his shoulders sink just a little bit.


It's slow and small, almost like starting fresh.

"How're... things?"

[realmrsreynolds]

"They're..."

Not good. Haven't been for awhile.

"Okay. Business is goin'."

[e_delmar]

His eyebrows furrow, and it could be from the tone behind her words, or could be 'cause he ain't never been good with niceties.

He grunts a bit, and coughs, and then as he mutters something, a coffee appears for him, as well.

[a-good-sock.livejournal.com]

Joe is still new to this whole Milliways thing. So when he sees a lovely older woman at the bar with fruit in her hands, he heads her way.

"Good morning, madam. I'm afraid I'm rather new here - could you tell me how would one go about ordering breakfast here?"

[realmrsreynolds]

And Sallie's still got that coffee mug.

"Hunh? Oh, just ask the Bar. She can hear you. Bar?" Looking down at the mangoes, "Basket?"

A small basket appears to carry the fruit home.

[a-good-sock.livejournal.com]

Joe gives the tiniest of starts when the basket appears, and gives the lady a sheepish smile.

"That still takes some getting used to." He steps up to the bar. "A cup of black coffee and a plate of eggs please...Bar." The slight hesitation belays the atypicalness of addressing a wooden bar.

"Thank you for your assistance." He offers his hand. "Joe Blomfield."

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie doesn't offer a handshake until she dumps all the mangoes into the basket. "Sallie Reynolds."

Along with the introduction comes Sallie's first full look at the man - money, obviously. If he were from Sallie's 'verse she'd say...Osiris. Maybe Londinium.

[a-good-sock.livejournal.com]

"A pleasure, Ms. Reynolds." He doesn't want to presume.

Another small start as the steaming cup of coffee and plate of eggs appear. Joe picks up the cup and inhales, sighing with pleasure.

[realmrsreynolds]

"Sallie, please."

The man's nearly Sallie's own age, and she doesn't even make her students call her Ms. Reynolds.

She does give Joe Mister Blomfield? a glance as he practically proposes to his coffee cup. "Never had coffee before?"

[hopefulpoet.livejournal.com]

Christian is sitting at the bar, poking at a piece of sausage. He's been trying to eat properly, since being a poor writer in Paris means that times are lean. Here he can eat all he wants. He just... doesn't have an appetite.

He looks across at the woman when she approaches the bar and straightens, feeling instantly rumpled and unprepared for meeting such a distinguished looking person.

Maybe she won't say anything to me...

[realmrsreynolds]

"Wèi."

Yup. Fat chance of that happening.

[ooc: So sorry! I'm at work...]

[hopefulpoet.livejournal.com]

Christian blinks.

"Uh, hullo," he says, his voice a soft, British accent. "Sorry, madam, but I don't know that greeting."

At least, he hopes it's a greeting and not a challenge to the death or something. Anything is possible here, he's discovering.

[[OOC: No worries. I'm at work, too, and will be slow to reply. :)]]

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie blinks as if to right herself, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that -- it's Chinese, I forget sometimes that I can't use that sort of thing in Milliways very often."

[hopefulpoet.livejournal.com]

"I... don't know any Chinese, madam. Sorry. You've been here before, then?"

He checks to see if his buttons are all properly done up over his undershirt, arranges his suspenders on his shoulders so there aren't any twists. She reminds him of his grandmother.

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie tends to have that effect on people.

"Been comin' here over two years. Yourself?"

[ostro_goth]

"Greetings, Sallie Reynolds!"

Teja is not wearing armour today. If one sees him from nearby, one might see that there's some dark cat hair on his pale linen shirt, and some pale cat hair on his dark linen breeches.

He is holding his harp, and is otherwise all business-like.

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie's definitely more likely to pay attention to the harp in Teja's hands than the cat hair on his pants.

"How have yo ubeen, Teja?" Sallie asks. "Haven't seen you about in a while."

[ostro_goth]

"I have been busy," Teja says, "earning tab, so I may afford horses. I have not seen you, either, or I would have spoken to you before."

[realmrsreynolds]

"How've you been making coin, then? I'm assuming music?"

[ostro_goth]

"Metal-work," Teja says. "I am a smith, also. Anything, from parts for the strange machines of the future, through weaponry, to jewellery."

[realmrsreynolds]

"How exotic. Does the bar provide the material or do the customers?"