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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There is a girl nearby with long dark hair. Said girl is also wearing black, but it is not a dress.

A tank top and track pants are her preferred attire. And she tilts her head, nostrils flaring, as the other woman steps through the door.

Eventually she approaches.

"Hello."

Beat.

"You have not been here before."

X would have smelled her.

Oh, yes. Very interesting.

"No, I'm pretty sure I haven't.

"I'm guessing, though, that you know a thing or two about this place."

"I have been coming here since I was small."

It's kind of like her credentials.

"This is Milliways."

Beat.

"It is the end of the universe."

The woman turns to look around and catches sight of the Window.

"So it is.

"Always knew it would end in fire."

A lot of things end in fire.

Though the fire itself goes on . . . and on . . . on.

X tilts her head, studying the other woman.

She does not go in for poetry.

"Oh. You have seen it?"

Beat.

"Some people do."

Nathan was dead (albeit sort of temporarily. Shh... canon is of the strange), but he could still make note of a beautiful woman walking into the bar. Especially when she's new.

So there was an interested look and an easy smile.

"Evening."

"Oh, I've seen a lot of things," says the woman.

"I get around."

"Good evening," says the woman, with an easy smile of her own.

"I don't suppose you know where I am . . ."

X considers this.

"You have been to other worlds before?"

It makes sense--well.

It makes her non-reaction to Milliways make sense.

"Something like that," she says.

Other worlds, other planes. Earth. Hell.

Potayto, potahto.

The smile dropped slightly into a more neutral expression of understanding.

"I do, you're at Milliways. The uh bar and restaurant at the end of the universe."

"The bar at the end of the universe."

Well, that sounds promising.

"And is that just one hell of a creative marketing slogan or . . . "

She trails off, inviting him to explain further.

If he likes.

"Oh," X says.

"That is useful. Here."

"Really?"

She looks over at the Window, and then back to the other woman.

"Hmmmmm. Yes, I suspect it would."

A pause and then a carefully self-depreciating smile.

"Where are my manners? You can call me Verity."

"Hardly, and that's not a special effect outside either," He gestured to the Observation Window. Sometimes a picture with exploding stars just sums it up better than words. And Nathan was better at giving speeches not poetry.

X's nostrils flare again, just slightly.

Sulfur is not very pleasant, especially to someone with heightened senses.

"Okay."

Beat.

"I am X-23."

This pause is not quite as long.

"You can call me Laura."

The woman turns and looks at the window.

And oh my but that picture is worth any number of thousands of words.

"How . . . lovely."

(Honestly? It's a bit heavy-handed, for her taste. She's more . . . surgical. Or . . . shall we say artistic? She'd rather take a scaple or a chisel to the world that a sledgehammer or a nuclear bomb. But it's impossible to deny that it is breath-taking.)

"Laura," she says. "It's very nice to meet you."

Though the other name is noted, too.

It's always good to know who -- or what -- you're dealing with.

Nathan followed her gaze, but he could never dwell on it long. Reminded him too much of the explosion. And well, he's never had good luck with it came to fire.

"Maybe to you. I'd call it something else."

"Okay," X says.

She is not sure what else to say to that.

And then--

"You are thirsty?"

Beat.

"The first drink is free."

Isn't Laura just terribly sweet and welcoming?

"That would be very nice.

"Is there anything you'd recommend?"

It's very interesting!

Which, of course, means that its clientele is a bit different from the standard bar fare.

Most bars, for instance, don't have teenagers roaming about in schoolgirl's uniforms, strutting around cheerfully and munching what look like Danish wedding cookies. And most bars don't occasionally force one to stop to let a wait-rat wander past - but, in this one, at this moment, just such a rat is forcing just such a teenager to pause mid-step.

He happens to pause right near the front door, and, in the process, he glances over towards it, waving one hand at the newcomer.

"Hi!"

"Oh? What would you call it?" she asks, turning her attention back from window to him.

Very, very interesting, indeed.

"Good evening.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore."

(Not that she was in Kansas before she got here. Well, at least, not immediately. But some lines are classics, even for demons.)

"I like milk," X offers.

"And root beer floats."

Then she falls silent

"Some people like alcohol, too. Even if it impairs their efficacy."

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