milliways_bar | (no subject)

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"I'm gonna need a towel, please," Ray says to the first wait-rat to cross his path. It's been a long day on the job for him and he's got his usual slime issues, namely: he, his proton pack, his jumpsuit, and nearly everything he's wearing under his jumpsuit is saturated in the stuff. "And a large glass of the quantum blue and a cheeseburger."

The rat squeaks and scampers off, returning with the towel first. Ray rubs his face vigorously before dropping into the nearest chair and unbuckling his pack. "Thanks."

Another squeak.

"Oh, hush. I'll wash up later. It's just ectoplasm."

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"Interestin'." Wilbur grins.

"I like et here. Most people dun't mind me thet much."

As if to punctuate this, a tentacle pokes out from under the hem of his coat.

"All in a day's work. It wouldn't've been anything outstanding if they hadn't cropped up in a Swarovski crystal store. What a mess."

The next rat to arrive has the aforementioned cheeseburger and a glass of something approximately the color of Windex. Ray accepts both gratefully. "Yes, well, Milliways is accustomed to very strange patrons of all kinds. The Yithian I got swapped with for a while managed to come here in his own body, although I understand people had some difficulty with his mindset and attitudes."

"Yeesh." Wilbur has never been to a crystal store, but he knows that crystals are delicate, and he can guess from there.

"Wal, I dun't have thet problem, anyway. Half-human an' raised by humans, sew I've leaned how tew fit en."

He turns to the rat. "Kin I have a Confewsion? I liked those."

The rat nods and scurries away, returning after a moment with a bright yellow cocktail.

Ray nods. "I'm not really all that surprised, although as I understand it you had a fairly isolated upbringing. Wizard Whateley's farm couldn't've exactly been the center of any kind of real socialization, am I right?"

"Naw. But et was suthin'." Wilbur grins, then sobers. "An' I went ter Dunwich sometimes. People thar didn't like me much. Called me 'thet brat' an' 'inbred freak'. Ef they only knew . . .

"Et was part o' the reason I didn't keer about what would happen tew people, Afterwards."

He looks away.

Ray nods. "Somehow I'm not all that surprised," he says. "Small town people tend to have very solidly set notions."

"Painfully sew." He takes a drink of the cocktail. "I like this. Et tastes like oranges. Yew should try et sometime."

A tentacle tries to grab the glass. He shakes a finger at it.

"Not really what I'm looking for in my alcohol, but thanks for the recommendation anyway," Ray says. "Say, just how much volition do those things have individually, anyway?"

"They react ter my subconscious, mostly," Wilbur says. "I kin control them ef I need tew, though."

He thinks a moment. "Et's like a nervous tic, only more sew."

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