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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Drinks appearing out of thin air were bad enough, but now handkerchiefs? There is no sense to this place and she longs for the sanctity of normal life -- even unhappy normal life -- back in Seoul. At least there things were predictable. At least there, she knew that if he stepped outside she wasn't going to end up at the end of the universe.

She's not a stupid person: Sun knows what she must do to survive: she must fight. But in order to fight she needs to understand her surroundings and this makes no sense. No sense at all.

Skeptically, she accepts the handkerchief and dabs at the corners of her eyes where they sting.

"[How can you promise something like that. How can you say it will be all right. I have nothing here: no family, no friends, no Jin, no money. I'm sitting at a bar drinking champagne with a stranger but only because I thought it was a joke. How does one take care of herself when she has nothing?]"

The question is perfectly valid, especially from someone who has never had to make ends meet before.

"You fight. And you deal."

Rapid, calm Korean. "You don't need money, at least not right away. The place runs a tab, and they very rarely get called in. There are worse places to wind up in alone."

Sam knows this because he's been in them.

"[I am frightened.]"

That is the truth. "So I incur a debt to stay here while my husband and the others starve on an island, and I cannot return to give them hope or comfort or bring them food. It seems... unfair."

It also seems inevitable.

"I'm sorry. My problems are not your problems. You've been very kind." Folding the handkerchief into a neat if tear-stained square, she hands it back to him. "I don't mean to take up more of your time."

There's something in her expression that says don't go, but she tries to mask it. He's right: she fights, and she deals. And she always has and always will, and just because this is a strange and new place, there is no reason to curl into a ball and die.

"It isn't fair. But when your door does reappear, there is no reason you can't take food out with you."

Sam shakes his head. "Keep it." Fleeting, bright grin. "I can always get more."

She laughs at his suggestion. "And explain food how. [Ah, Jin-Soo, look! A hot meal waiting in an abandoned cave on an uninhabited island! With condiments and napkins! Don't ask, just eat.]"

It feels so much better to laugh than to cry. If there is nothing else she can do, she would rather try to be happy.

And then she looks down at the handkerchief in her hand. "Where did this come from? One minute it was here. I did not see you take it out of a pocket."

"There's always a way." Sam laughs too, a little.

"More magic, I'm afraid. Mine, this time."

"Ah, you have magic? You can do magic?"

She has seen magicians at work before: it's fun to watch. "What other tricks can you do?" The question is barely out when her eyes widen. "Sam. Sam. When you are not bound -- when you can leave this place and return -- are you able to bring others with you?"

"I can do anything." Laughing. "Well, not quite. But I'm very good."

Sam sips his drink, looking at her with impish black eyes.

"I've never tried. But I think others have."

Someone who can do anything must be a very powerful person indeed.

"You can do almost anything, and yet you have never tried to bring someone here with you? Yet you have a girlfriend... is she not at home?"

Oh, she has made so many assumptions in her life, and so many wrong ones. By now, she ought to know better than that. But this is still new, and it is difficult.

"No. Medusa visits here, too - that's how we met. I... don't have too many close friends outside the bar."

Grin.

"And yes, that Medusa."

First Hercules, and now a man who makes items appear out of thin air, and then Medusa: the day has been both surprising and busy and doesn't show any signs of slowing down.

She sets down her champagne, watching him like a hawk the whole time. "Who are you?"

"I'm just Sam." This is, oddly enough, not exactly the truth. But introducing newbies to ideas like 'Lucifer' is not the best of ideas.

"Sam Linnfer. I am immortal, though."

That much is safe, if frequently mind-blowing, ground.

All right: if he wants to be like that, he can.

"Well then, immortal Sam Linnfer: thank you very much for the champagne. When I can, I will return the favor."

Fight and deal. That was his advice, and it is advice taken to heart. It is time to stop being afraid and time to start fighting and dealing. She stands, tall and proud, and then giggles slightly as she tucks her nightgown under her arm. It's hard to make a serious impact when bedwear is part of the equation.

Sam gives her an even brighter grin. He likes strong women.

He offers her a bow. "I look forward to it, Sun."

She bows in return. Now it is time to try to start solving some of the mysteries of this place, just as people are trying to do back on the island. As graciously as possible, she catches Sam Linnfer's eye and nods.

The first thing she will do is examine the wall where the door should be. If it is there, she will be able to leave and if not...

If not, she has learned a new English word to use when disappointed.

Bollocks.

She likes the way it sounds.

Sam hops back onto his barstool, letting Sun investigate.

If she wants his help, she only has to ask.

[OOC: Fleeing very soon, sorry. Slowtime again okay? Night!]

[OOC: ♥]

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