milliways_bar | This isn't the bathroom...

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This isn't the bathroom...

A few seconds ago, everything was so normal...

Anya pauses at the door, confused. She slowly pokes her head in, scanning the bizarre room in front of her that is most definitely not the bathroom. Suddenly she feels a strong tug and stumbles over the threshold. The door smacks shut behind her, the click of the lock surprisingly deafening in the already noisy... bar?

Well, Anya knows bars. She and bars are good friends. She walks slowly, almost cautiously to the Bar and sits down on one of the stools, tugging her robe in close around her. No one is immediately apparent, but something about this place seems special.

"Uhm... a mimosa please?"

Just to her left in a snazzy crystal glass appears a deliciously well balanced mimosa on a clean napkin. She smiles, claps her hands like a five year old and takes a sip. Her nerves somewhat calmed, she scans the room for something, anything friendly.

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"Oh magic! I know people who do magic. I did magic a long long time ago, its why I became a demon. But now I do research and run the Magic Shop. You should come exchange monies for goods and services there someday. I'll give you a good deal so you come back to spend more, I promise."

She had noticed the eyes, and she liked them. They're nifty.

"A magic shop?" Wencit asks, bushy eyebrows raised. "That sounds as if it is an interesting vocation. I must admit to curiosity, though. How does one go from vengeance demon to magic shop proprietress?"

"Oh, well. First I was this tender young thing, then this great oaf I was dating slept with a bar wench so I magicked him into a troll. Well, this demon really liked that, so he made me a vengeance demon so I can help other poor women just like me get their revenge on the entirely of mankind. That was fun for a long time until this guy Giles figured out how to stop me. He broke my necklace. It was so pretty too... anyway, so I was mortal again. But Giles and his little posse of bad guy fighters were really the only people I knew, so I started to hang out with them. Turns out they're reasonably nifty. And then this local magic shop was broken into and the owner was killed, so Giles took over took over. But really, I was the brains of the outfit all along, even before he hired me. I love money and I wanted to make sure its treated well. Then he kept saying he had to go back to England, and wasn't, and then did but came back, and all of this stuff. Really he's a business partner, but he's finally overseas. Not that I don't miss him, I do. But now I run the shop and I make the money. And I'm good at it. You should stop by!"

Wencit might have glazed over halfway through, she couldn't tell. She shrugged.

"You asked."

It is hard to tell when Wencit's eyes glaze over due to the being flaming pits thing, but he at least manages to look interested.

"Sounds quite complicated, though I imagine you have managed to summarize quite well." He tilts his head, "How long have you been mortal again?"

"Oh, three years or so. Its still very new, I mean, I was a demon for over a thousand years."

A loud sip of mimosa. No reason, just happens that way.

"A thousand years is a long time," Wencit points out the obvious. "I imagine it has been quite an adjustment."

Anya shrugs.

"It's different, that's for sure. Sometimes I miss being a demon. Sometimes I miss it a lot. But being human is kinda fun too, though they're extremely complicated and smell funny more often than not. Especially after sex. Then again, I suppose that's part of the fun."

Awkward? Nah...

Wencit can't help but laugh at that. "You, my lady, are quite blunt. Which I'm sure someone must have pointed out before."

It's oddly refreshing, really.

Anya covers her mouth in slight embarrassment.

"I did it again! Yes, my friends tell me all the time. Especially my fiance. I think they think its a problem sometimes. But I'd rather be honest than do all the human hiding hoopla. I was direct when I was a demon, and I'm direct now. Though I'm less direct, otherwise I would have no friends."

"I believe you are onto something," Wencit grins. "Most of the world's problems would be less problematic if only people would say what they mean. It is refreshing to see someone who lives that."

"Hey, you sound like you're making me out to be some superior human. Not that I would disagree. But the freedom to say what you mean comes a lot easier when you can crush anyone you want to talk to. Humans have all of these natural enemies, like other humans, who have a very large potential to hurt each other and thats scary. I just keep forgetting that now they can hurt me too."

"A keen observation," Wencit decides. "I suppose that I am often guilty of forgetting too. It has been... quite some time since anyone presented a real threat to me."

Anya likes being called keen. Makes her sound smart and cunning. Like a fox.

"Sometimes I think that if all the demons and vamps and bad guys had to spend a week as a human, they'd go easier on the poor little buggers. They can be kinda cute..."

"Cute," Wencit repeats. "Now that is certainly a perspective one does not often hear voiced."

"Well... ya know... they're all soft but really kinda tough when you get to know them. The good ones, at least. Its more interesting than a big tough scary demon with no depth of character or moral complexity."

"Having met a few such demons myself, I must admit that I quite agree with you."

"No personality, really. Just 'I will kill everyone!'"

"I know! I promise, I was much more interesting. I had motives, and worked one on one with my clients to ensure the best possible outcome. Of course, the definition of 'best' changed depending on the circumstances. Nonetheless, I had depth."

"Well," Wencit smiles, "I must say I am glad to have met you human. I have rather a negative and violent history with demons myself."

Anya shrugs.

"We're a dodgy lot. Issuing lots of death threats never made anyone popular."

She leans in and smiles at him.

"I'm glad to have met you too, mostly-human. You're different and interesting, and I hope we can become friends."

"I would not be opposed to such an outcome."

He laughs, "After all, one can never have too many friends."

Another smile, positively beaming. She likes making this man laugh. He seems like he might not do it too often.

"No, one cannot."

A brief lull. She swigs the remaining bit of mimosa and turns back to him.

"So... care to tell me where I am exactly? I don't think this is my bathroom any more, though I don't mind an apartment with a bar full of interesting people in it. I just hope the landlord doesn't find out. Our rent would go through the roof."

"I see that you are an observant woman," Wencit says with a tiny smirk.

"This bar is, as you have surmised, not located in your bathroom. You have found yourself in Milliways, which somehow rests at the end of all time."

"I will admit that I was quite surprised when I arrived here as well. I had expected the end of all time to be a bit more dreary."

Anya perks up.

"So this is what happens if Buffy can't stop one of the annual apocalypses? I can't wait to tell everyone! This is really a very pleasant place. I thought there would be more hellfire and torture and fewer delicious fizzy drinks and magic people."

"It is difficult to say, actually," Wencit cautions. "This is the end of time, which should not be confused with the end of the world. It is possible, I suppose, that they are one and the same, but I suspect that they are not."

"Time, after all, continues whether the world does or not."

Anya frowns, confused.

"Oh, so this place is like... outside of time? But there is time here... so... so this is like the break room in the store of time! All of the customers of time, other people, are all in the store, going through like normal, but we're here taking a break! There are still products here, like there's time here, but its for everyone else right now!"

If she can link it to capitalism, it's all good.

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