milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Under ordinary circumstances Annie would have posted a notice about the full moon back on the fourteenth through the sixteenth, but things have been so busy back in Yorkshire that she simply hasn't had the time to tend to Milliways as well. Thus, her first arrival in the Bar post-moon includes a quick trip to the notice board and a glance into the infirmary to see if anyone's been eaten or bitten.

She'll get it right next time. Right now, she's just finding a seat and taking a load off for a bit.

[tinytag: Mad Dog Maguire]

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A man passes by her, bumping into the back of her chair on his way to the bar. He's wiping engine grease off of his hands with a once-clean cloth, a jacket slung over his shoulder.

"'Scuse me," Maguire says, offering her an apologetic nod.

[ ooc: mun prone to slowtimes, hope that's not a problem! ]

"It's quite all right, I-"

Annie blinks as she gets a good look at the man.

"Oh- hallo, Captain. Didn't expect to see you inside so soon."

"What, Ryan?" is his first response, as he backtracks a few steps.

"Met him my first time in. Awfully weird encounter, but the proverbial house caught on fire." The Irish accent ought to be the first hint that he isn't Ryan. That, and the slight difference in age.

He checks his right hand to make sure it's clean before offering it to her.

"'Mad Dog' Maguire, formerly Senior Corporal in the French Foreign Legion."

"Oh! I'm sorry. You do have a powerful resemblance," says Annie. Then she smiles, and shakes the offered hand. "A pleasure to meet you, sir. Annie Wells. No especial title, really, unless you're in the baked goods business."

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Wells. Baked goods, y'say? That your main focus on the other side of the door?"

Annie nods. "I've been a professional baker since I was about sixteen," she says with a smile. "Right now I own and operate my own bakery in Harrogate, in Yorkshire, and I've got someone managing my old shop in London. Not exactly the Foreign Legion, but it usually does quite well by me and mine."

"It sounds quite lovely," he says, completely honestly.

"Though I've never managed to settle down easy. I'm currently doin' more mercenary work, based in Shanghai. I'm a pilot."

"It suits me," Annie answers. Then she laughs a little. "Well, now, that's something else I can understand- my husband Harry was Army most of his life, until he was discharged a few years ago. He's a combat instructor now. Some things do leave a mark, don't they?"

"I should say so. Meself, I can't imagine bein' on the ground for more than a week. I'd go crazy.

"He around here?"

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