milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There are a lot of things that Col. Miles Quaritch has gotten used to seeing on Pandora. A non-exclusive list includes large animals grabbing his men and eating them; men suffering from all sorts of new and deadly poisonings from the native wildlife; tall blue creatures shooting arrows that can occasionally knock through bulletproof windows at just the right angle and speed; and all sorts of other things which we need not go into detail about here.

One thing he is not used to seeing is the Mess Hall transformed into a bar. It might occasionally devolve into being a pigsty in his opinion (particularly if whomever has KP isn't on the ball or is looking for trouble), but a bar is...quite unexpected. So as soon as Col. Quaritch comes through the door into a very unfamiliar room that is in place of a very familiar one, he draws his gun and reaches for his breather unit.

"What the hell sort of joke is this?"

(Tinytag: Miles Quaritch)

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"No, just magic, but not the kind that tries to eat you."

Moist feels its important to add that on the end because his grandfather lectured him so often on being safe.

"Magic?" The Colonel looks incredulous at that claim; he's never seen any 'real' magic and frankly doesn't believe in it (unless you call a MOAB 'magic', in which case he does).

"Magic, that pulls people from various worlds and brings them to the End of the Universe."

He keeps his voice utterly neutral, because that just works better. Same thing with dogs, never let them scent your fear or worry.

Quaritch looks slightly incredulous at that claim. "You've got to be kidding me." He drawls that out after a pause.

"I wish I was."

Moist says it again in that same straight voice.

The Colonel sighs and grumbles. "So, how do I get out of this place?"

"Same way you came in through the front door."

Quaritch steps over to the door and opens it. Sure enough, there's the hall. The air's the same on both sides, really; however, nobody (at least as far as he can tell) seems to notice the fact that the door...doesn't lead where it should.

"Strange." Pause. "This whole place is very strange."

"Yes, its quite strange. The first drink's free, which can help a little with the oddness."

Quaritch looks curious. "First drink free? What do they serve here?"

"Almost everything, that's part of the magic."

Quaritch blinks. "So if I wanted..." He names a particularly fine (and out of production) whiskey. "...I could get it?"

No sooner than he asks, the drink appears with a note right by it from Bar:
Yes

Quaritch stares. "How did..." He tentatively touches the glass. "How did that appear?"

"Magic. She also knows your name and I don't know how."

Moist gestures to the tab board with a look of unease.

Quaritch looks up there and looks down at the Bar. Before he even asks the question, another napkin appears:
Magic

The colonel simply stares.

To hide the fact that its a pleasure to see someone as intimidating as this man at a loss, Moist orders a whiskey and sips it.

Quaritch recovers in a moment and picks up the glass. After a careful look (and after smelling it), he takes a careful sip. The look on his face shifts to impressed satisfaction; he looks pleased, if still a bit wary of the Bar.

"Good stuff."

"Only the best here."

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