milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The door opens, and a woman with long dark hair and a short black dress steps in.

Well, really, that's technically only partly true. But it's probably close enough to accurate. Workable, at any rate.

She stops and looks around. This doesn't feel like any bar she's ever been in before, and, darling, she has been in a lot of bars. Desperate people do like to drink, and a week in a bar here or there, that's like picking ripe fruit off low-hanging branches.

Well, well, well. Isn't this . . . interesting?

[OOC: If you're the sort who's good at recognizing demons, feel free. If you're not, though, chances are she's just going to come off as young human woman. Questions, etc., ping elsinorequeen.]

[tiny tag: the crossroads demon, cerberus]

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Root beer floats? Milk?

How . . . cloyingly sweet and digustingly wholesome.

(Alcohol she likes. Especially when other people drink it. It rather increases her efficacy.)

"I haven't had a root beer float in . . . well I don't think I've ever actually had one. I should rememdy that."

If she must.

"Inevitable. Depressing. For starters," He shrugged, and placed his hands in his pockets.

He then withdrew his right hand, "Enough about that though, rather meet the newest arrival here. I'm Nathan Petrelli, and you are...?" Another charming grin tossed to her, completely with a gleaming grin.

X shrugs, one-shouldered and quick.

Disgustingly wholesome is a good description for her.

Um.

"You do not have to."

Beat.

While things are being awkward, X will signal a waitrat.

It arrives promptly, chittering at X as it approaches.

The stories she's a part of end in fire, inevitably, so she wouldn't argue that point.

"Verity," she says, with a quick and ready smile.

"My parents had this thing about Truth."

"No, I'm pretty sure you're not wrong," Momiji laughs.

Thankfully, the classic line seems to work inter-dimensionally.

"You've never been here before?" he adds, all curious. The calm ones are always the weirdest newbies, after all!

Also: "Want a cookie?"

"I know," she says.

"But now I'm curious."

About a great many things.

"Okay," X says.

And then she orders two root beer floats.

The waitrat scurries away.

"You do not have any questions?"

There's a badge on X's belt, previously obscured by the fall of her tank top. It says she's on Security.

"No, I've never been here before. I think I'd remember."

She smiles.

"That's kind of you, thank you."

And that badge does not go unnoticed.

"Laura" certainly doesn't look like the kind of bar security Verity is used to encountering.

"Oh, I wouldn't even begin to know where to start."

She smiles.

"Is there anything you think I should know?"

"Yeah, Milliways is really memorable." The boy nods enthusiastically, before holding the plate out towards her, so that she can claim one of the small, powdered sugar-coated treats.

"It's a magic bar that sort of pops up places, whenever it wants, all over, in different people's worlds! If you're lucky, you get a door where you can come here, whenever you want and visit. It's neat."

X considers this. Carefully.

"There are rules."

Beat.

"You are not allowed to have sex downstairs. Or be naked."

Beat.

"You are not allowed to fight inside, or hurt people. And you are not allowed to bring in outside business."

Which is to say 'no grudges'.

. . . so what, exactly, does that leave to do?

"I'll keep all that in mind. Thank you."

"It's beautiful, unique. It suits you." His voice, usually a undertone of low almost gravelly in texture held a purring quality to it as he spoke now.

She takes one of the cookies, and smiles again.

"Different people's worlds?" she asks. "I never knew that sort of thing was possible."

"Sex upstairs is okay. There are rooms."

Beat.

"And a brothel."

X is helpful.

"And sometimes people cannot leave. The door does not open."

Behold the brimming bowl which has been foth to ease out hunger! Behold the flowing flagon, moist and sweet which has been sent to slake our thirst!

Er...

That is to say there is a pale young man; lanky, barefoot and dressed in a rough tunic sitting on the floor nearby. He has a large mug full to the brim of water set beside him. In his lap there is a steel bowl containing some rather interesting bar snacks (http://www.drsfostersmith.com/images/Categoryimages/normal/p_4577_FS26005DZ.jpg).

Shortly after the door opens, the newcomer will find herself on teh recieving end of a curious stare. He's come across that scent before here.

In that she appreciates the irony, oh, yes, it suits her very, very well.

(The Truths she came to value were not the ones her sanctimonious parents had in mind. And, anyway, demons lie.)

"Thank you," she says.

"So what do you do, Nathan?"

He might find himself on the end of a rather curious stare himself.

Hell recognizes its own, after all.

Only he's not . . . quite . . . anything she's encountered before.

"I probably shouldn't say this, after all we have juts met, and it's a bit . . . well, forward. Or presumptious, might be a better word. But, Laura, you do seem just a little preoccupied with sex."

X tilts her head, studying Verity.

"Some people think it is important."

Beat.

"It does not make sense."

"Sex? Or people finding it important?"

(Verity finds it important. You'd be amazed what people are willing to give up, when they're thinking with the wrong part of their anatomy.)

"Both," X says after a moment.

"It is not relevant."

"Mmhm! Just about everyone here's from a different one!"

He snags a cookie of his own, nibbling at it as he chats with the womam. (In the process, he sidles over towards the border of the booth nearest the door, leaning against it like a makeshift seat.)

"I know it sounds kind of crazy, but that's just how it works! Mm, and you can ask the Bar up at the front for just about anything, and it'll give it to you - it just sort of pops up."

He's never had cause to ask for any of the things that Ms. Bar won't dole out, so he doesn't actually know that she won't.

"Well, it's relevant if you don't want the species to die out."

And what fun would anyone have, without humans to entertain themselves with?

"How interesting," she says, looking around at the bar for a moment.

"And, um, what sort of payment does the bar require for these things that just pop up?" she asks.

(Never accept anything if you're not clear on the price you're paying.)

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