milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Today has not been a very good day, but eight has never been one of Sun's lucky numbers. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

She does not know if she likes these caves. They are dark and she misses the stars overhead and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. But Jin is her husband and for now, she does as he asks. For now, she owes him that much. Nightgown in hand, she steps through the rock opening and does a double-take, and then another: where is this place?

With the nightgown clutched protectively to her chest she steps forward, brows furrowed, eyes darting back and forth. There is no comfort in the location or in the sudden profusion of company.

"Jin-Soo? [Help me.]"

But Jin is not here, and he cannot help her. Her hand goes to the top button of her sweater; she makes sure it's fastened.

"[Excuse me... where are we? What is this place?]"

[작은 꼬리표: Hercules]

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"You're in Milliways." A slim, black-haired young man slides down from his barstool and offers her a smile.

"It's a bar at the end of the Universe. Wherever you were, you're not there now. When you want to leave, you can return through the door you came in by.

His Korean is rapid and perfect.

Ah! She turns quickly, both startled and relieved at the familiar words.

"[I have never heard of a place called Milliways.]"

Eight short days ago she never would have believed this. Even now, she cannot accept what she cannot understand. "[But it is most obvious I am no longer where I was.]"

Even after eight days on an island, it's easy to slide back into the language and mode of privilege with which she grew up. "[I want to return to my husband.]" The last sentence is automatic though not entirely honest.

Still in shock, she takes a deep breath and looks from the pleasant man before her to the surrounding room.

"[What is this place?]"

"Nobody ever has, until they come here. Can you see a door behind you? If you can, then you can return to him when you choose."

Sam's smile is engaging. "Most people choose to stick around for a while first, though."

He waves a hand towards the Viewing Window and the chaotic beauty outside. "You're at the universe's end, but you're safe enough. There is magic here, and a great deal of other things you likely won't believe or understand. But newcomers get bought a drink."

"[I came in through a cave. I was on an island. The airplane I was on crashed.]"

How can someone be so casual about the universe's end? Slowly, she turns around to look at the wall behind her.

"[Where is this door?]" That she wishes to go back isn't so much a statement of desire as a yearning for something -- anything -- familiar. Right now she has no wish to look back at the window: she doesn't understand it and doesn't want to understand it.

She wants to wake up. This must be a dream. People don't carry nightgowns into strange places like this from caves on islands.

That should not be how magic -- or anything -- works.

"Oh, bollocks," Sam says in English, and runs a hand through his thick black hair until it sticks up wildly.

Korean, this time. "You can't see it?"

Such words.

Her hand clutches the top button of her sweater.

"No."

Language for language, she can match the intent with a single word or with more than one.

"[What does it mean that there is no door?]" Social niceties will occur to her eventually, but not yet. She wants to go back to what she knows, even with the promise of a drink -- something she hasn't had in days -- dangled in front of her.

Oooh, English.

"It means that you can't leave, for the moment. I can't see my door, either. I'm sorry."

He sighs. Explaining being Bound to a newbie is always fun. "It isn't so bad here, though. Would you like that drink?"

"I cannot leave?"

But... what about Jin? What will he do? He will have nobody. But that... it was what she was going to do to him by leaving, wasn't it?

Her lower lip starts to tremble and she can't stop the tears that spring to her eyes.

"[A drink. Please. I think I need one.]"

"No, you can't leave. But time stops outside. Nobody will worry that you are gone. When the door reappears, you return to the point at which you came in."

He offers her a hand in a gesture that could extend to a hug, if she wants one.

"A drink it is. What would you like?"

The mixture of Korean and English is different, but it's far from being the oddest linguistic conversation Sam's ever held.

At the offered hand, she folds her own hands tightly to her chest.

"I am married."

The look she gives him could be interpreted as suspicious, although he's been very nice to her. "And I do not even know your name."

Why would she take his hand? They are strangers.

"And I have a girlfriend," Sam retorts, although being as he's in an open relationship that doesn't really make all that much difference.

"It was an offer of a handshake, not an offer of sex."

He flicks her a grin nonetheless. "My name, though, is Sam."

She blushes.

"[I should hope it was not an offer of sex. You speak Korean very well. How did you learn it?]"

Her lips forced up into a small smile, she nods and extends her hand. "Hello, Sam. I am Sun."

"I know a lot of languages. I move around a lot."

Well, he does when he's not Bound, and the thought makes him frown a little before he shrugs it off.

"Pleased to meet you, Sun." Sam shakes her hand. "Your English isn't bad either. Are you fluent?"

Edited 2008-09-17 19:21 (UTC)

"I know enough." In fact, she's quite fluent. "But it is not my favored language."

As long as she's here without Jin, she might as well practice using it. Slowly, and over time, she would have pretended to learn English once they got to America. Or perhaps she would have surprised him with it: she doesn't know.

It wasn't planned out. She was supposed to leave him. She was supposed to go to America by herself.

The enormity of the situation hits her fully and suddenly. "Sam." She say his name as if she's drowning. "This place. Why am I here? Why are you here? What does it mean? How can this be?"

"There is no reason. Not really, although it sometimes appears when you most need it. The 'how' is not really something anyone thinks too hard about, because it makes no sense." Sam shrugs.

"Milliways is what you make of it."

"I am not in the habit of making sense of senseless things."

Perhaps, she thinks, this is a skill she needs to learn. "If it is what I make of it, I wish to make it into Seoul two weeks ago."

Nothing happens. Or at least nothing to make this place turn magically into her home city; she lets out a low breath.

"That went well." Shaking her head, she looks back at the empty wall behind her one more time. "Perhaps I should think in narrower terms." Any time now she'll drop the facade of strength and fall apart, and she knows it.

Sam offers her a small smile.

"That isn't exactly what I meant. Milliways means different things to different people, that's all."

He offers her his arm, this time. "Come on. Let's get you your drink."

"Thank you."

This time, she graciously accepts and lets him lead her to the bar. It might be the last time she lets anybody lead her anywhere: she's tired of that. But the situation is so strange and so unexpected: there is nothing in her past to prepare her for a thing like this.

"You are so calm about this. How?" For her part, she is overcome by a feeling of unreality: this cannot be happening. Maybe she hit her head on a rock in the cave and is having a dream. Or maybe she's dreamed the whole airplane crash and is still in Sydney with Jin, fast asleep in their hotel. Or better still, she is back in Seoul and they haven't left for their trip yet.

Yes, she likes that last option the best.

Because this isn't real, is it? She feels like she's floating half her height above the ground as Sam guides her to the bar. The only thing she has that ties her to everything she knows is the nightgown tucked under her arm.

"This is... the end of something infinite. And it serves drinks."

"I've been coming here for a very long time. Two and a half years or so. You don't get used to it, exactly, but you learn to roll with the chaos."

He pats the bar's smooth, gleaming surface.

"Not an it, a she. This is Bar. She's ... sentient," a brief switch into Korean to ensure understanding, then back to English, "And she's very nice, so long as you treat her well. She can provide almost anything you can ask for."

"[Sentient. The bar has a consciousness. Now you are joking.]" She wishes she could say that this reminds her of anything she knows, but it does not. The whole thing is wrong.

"When I wake up I will write down my dream. In Korean. And show it to my husband, and he will laugh and remind me not to eat raw sea urchin so late at night again." For now, she will play along with whatever charade this is, and runs her hand over the gleaming wooden surface.

"I will have champagne." If this is a dream, she might as well have what she likes. And if it is not a dream, she might as well drink as much as she can.

Sam looks mischievous. "But you'll be telling him all this after having drunk champagne. Bar? Nothing outrageously expensive, please."

And lo, it appears.

"And I'll have another pint of my usual."

Presto!

He's smiling as he pats her. "Thanks."

The size of the diamond on her finger might indicate that she would, in fact, prefer the outrageously expensive champagne but at the moment she is grateful for any help at all she can get.

"If I am drinking champagne and not just dreaming it."

Or dreaming a man who looks like Sam, who is so friendly without good reason. It's been her experience that people most often don't just do things for free. They do them because it is to their benefit.

And then... champagne and a pint of his usual -- whatever it might be -- simply appear. That's when she no longer thinks she's dreaming: she knows she is.

"Ha... anyo. That did not just appear. From nowhere."

Sam's been Bound with no wages for a year. Sun can get over it.

"Well, presumably it came from somewhere, but Bar's always been pretty reticent about where she gets her supplies from."

He eyes his tab on the board.

"...Bar, did that just leap as far as I think it did?"

A note appears. A simple written 'yes' should not look that smug.

Another note, this one with an admonition against being a miser.

"You're bloody lucky your food's so good, you know that?"

This time, there is no note. Bar merely radiates smugness.

Edited 2008-09-17 23:08 (UTC)

Wait.

"You did not have to buy me this." Now there is debt, and she doesn't like to have debt. It's never done anything but get her into trouble, and she doesn't wish to be in trouble here already.

Except... Sam might just be crazy, because he's talking to a bar.

"I told you, I thought it was a dream. Take it back if it is too much. Please. I don't need champagne."

He probably is crazy. But if he is, it's in ways that have nothing to do with talking to a bar.

"Nah, go on." Equably, "She'll only sulk at me. And when I can leave I'm not exactly short of money."

Money which is not entirely honestly come by, so sharing it is probably fair enough.

Edited 2008-09-17 23:31 (UTC)