milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Lorne's getting kind of fond of being asked to fill in, so when that oh-so-familiar napkin pops up as he settles into his barstool, he just smiles and gives Bar an affectionate pat before moving around to the other side and picking up the specials board.

Specials

Terminator Stout
Old Chub
Athosian spiced ale
Sweetwater Motor Boat

There's a theme of sorts, but it pretty much only makes sense to Lorne.

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(Yeah, that would be hard to guess!)

"Thank yew." He drinks some and smiles slightly. "Et's good."

Lorne nods. "It was one of my favorites when I was in Colorado. Hard to find anywhere else."

"Never bin thar. O' course, I dun't believe I ever left Arkham county, sew thet's kinda redundant." He shrugs. "Oh wal."

"Whereabouts is Arkham county?" Placing accents has never been his strong suit.

"Massuchussetts." Wilbur grins. "Bin en Dunwich village my whole life, jest about. 'Cept fer trips tew Arkham towen."

"Ah," Lorne says. "I've been to Massachussetts, but I didn't get out of Boston much. Can't say I've ever heard of either of those."

"Wal, et's quite possible thet they dun't exist en yer world. They're Dark places, an' only seem tew exist en worlds thet have lawts o' Black magic an' Thin's From Beyond."

Lorne's eyebrows go up a bit at that. "Yeah...doesn't quite sound like my world. No magic at all, really."

"Lucky yew." He sighs. "En Arkham County yew gawt tew kinds o' people--oblivius idjits an' utter loonies. Hard ter say which es worse."

"Oblivious idiots," Lorne says. "You can usually at least attempt to reason with a loony."

Wilbur laughs. "Wal said, wal said. O' course the loonies ur generally rather enflexible, an' tryin' ter destroy the universe, but thet's awlright. Et's bound ter happen anyway."

He gestures at the Window.

"I was 'un o' the loonies mysalf, I should know."

"Yeah, but the loonies are less likely to be on your side, screwing things up."

He glances at the window.

"You...aren't a loony anymore?"

"Wal, the universe seems tew have ended quite wal without me, ayuh? Sew I may es wal sit back an' enjoy et." He winks. "The result es the same, an' et's much less hassle."

"The universe was always going to end," Lorne says, with the air of someone who's faced this fact many, many times in his career. "You just weren't always going to be around to see it."

"Ayuh, thet's true. But I have seen et now. Et's nawt jest en idea anymore.

"Beautiful, esn't et?"

"Incredible," Lorne says. "There's this word that used to mean so beautiful it's terrifying. Sublime. It doesn't quite mean that anymore, but I think that's what it is out there. So beautiful it's terrifying."

"Ur alse sew terrifyin' et's beautiful."

Lorne shakes his head. "Doesn't work that way. Not for me anyway. Somethings are just downright terrifying. Nothing beautiful about them. But there's always an element of fear in anything truly beautiful."

"Awe es close ter fear, et's true." He nods. "But terror kin be . . . mesmerizin', ef nawt exactly beautiful."

"Mesmerizing is not the same as beautiful."

Welcome to Lorne's Philosophy of Art 101, please take a seat near the front of the classroom.

"Naw--but et's similar."

And if you're going to talk about philosophy with Wilbur, you better know your quantum physics. He's a lovecraftian entity, after all.

Lorne most definitely does not know his quantum physics.

"How so?"

"Et's hard ter draw yer eyes away from either. An' both make yew want them."

"I don't think you always necessarily want something just because it's mesmerizing. It's like...like watching a car crash. It's mesmerizing, and you can't seem to look away, but you don't want it."

"Then why dew yew watch et? Yew want ter see, yew want ter know. Et's nawt a good thin', naw, but yer interested."