milliways_bar | (no subject)

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So first the gates of Hell open.

Then the Weekly World News shuts down.

Then it turns out the Winchester brothers, Señor Muttonhead and Muttonhead Junior, are the ones responsible for bullet point A up there?

Man, this is the worst fall ever.

Sulking, he scoops up a bite of waffle -- okay, more like a tiny island of cooked dough in an Atlantic-sized sea of maple syrup -- and eyes Milliways at large. Maybe he should tie a couple of metaphorical shoelaces together or something. Pranks always make him feel better.

(Hey, don't judge. He's a trickster. He's allowed!)

[OOC: as per usual, slowtimes are highly likely, but! Post is open until it scrolls.]

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Now there is a real look of panic in Moist's eyes, he hasn't done anything in here to be caught yet.

So he starts glancing around, he should react just the right amount.

In the end, he speaks in a scared and almost stammering voice,

"Can someone help me? Something's enchanted my jacket."

As he looks around, he notices the man with the waffles and directs his plea towards him.

And half an instant before Moist looks over, Waffle Guy is all concern and love for his fellow human being.

"Whoa, hey, it what?" he says, setting down his fork (clank, it goes against the plate) and immediately getting to his feet to cross the room. "What do you mean 'enchanted?'"

Moist holds up his wrists,

"Can you think of another reason for this?"

His voice sounds quite worried and a slightly scared.

He hisses in alarm. "Oh, jeez, look at that -- "

The sleeves have gone limp, but the knots remain fast, much tighter than any human could've pulled them.

"I have no idea, I know weird stuff happens here but I've never seen anything like that -- "

The knots are disturbing Moist, he doesn't like not having control and he doesn't know who to talk to so he can get out of this,

"Neither have I. Do you think you could help me with the knots?"

"I can try," he says, injecting juuuust the right amount of doubt into his voice as he reaches for Moist's jacket. Working his nails into the knot, he gives it a few largely ineffectual tugs, brow furrowing as he works.

"Man, that's really stuck on there," he mutters.

Moist eyes him as he works, he can feel the knots even moving and now does curse, its low and in Uberwaldian,

"I'd rather not have to cut it if I don't have to. This is my best suit. Did you see anyone say anything or gesture towards me?"

"No, I didn't," he says, low and worried as he keeps digging away at the knots. "I wasn't paying that much attention though, I just got my breakfast, I was eating that."

He'll let this guy stew for another...hm, what's a good length of time. Ten seconds? Yeah. Let's go with ten seconds.

"I wouldn't want to accuse anyone without knowing, this just seems unfair. I don't think I've done anything wrong."

He only cheated a cheat at cards, but Gus doesn't have any magic.

"Then why would somebody do something like this?" Bewildered.

Three. Two. One...

The stranger makes a tiny exclamation of triumph as the knot finally unravels beneath his fingers. "I've got it, I think the other one's just -- "

Another five seconds, and the second knot's off as well.

(...And yeah, those creases aren't coming out of his jacket for a while. Little something to remember him by.)

Moist visibly relaxes as the knots come undone and he rubs at his wrists though the look of panic hasn't left his eyes yet,

"Thank you, and I don't know. I'm not anyone interesting, I just work in finance."

He's been at this game long enough not to burst into laughter at the obvious waves of ohthankgod radiating off the guy.

Believe you me, though, he's doing it on the inside.

"Yeah?" He cocks his head. "Doing what?"

Ten bucks says Wall Street. He spent a whole year working Wall Street once. Ah, memories.

"Helping people with investments. Also it lets me travel around."

Some times he has to leave faster than normal, but in the end, he'll find his way to Ankh-Morpork. Honestly, there's nothing quite like the rush of almost getting caught and he's currently thanking the gods that he wasn't caught in Milliways.

Yeah. Up that bet to fifty bucks: totally Wall Street and all set to pull an Enron the first chance he gets.

(Or his world's equivalent of both, he guesses, if the guy's not from around these parts.)

"Sounds like very satisfying work," he says, duly impressed.

"It can be, yes. I'm on my way to Ankh-Morpork at the moment since there's so much opportunity there. I'm Alfred Spangler and thank you again. Can I buy you a drink?"

He offers his hand for a firm handshake and smiles, its a wonderfully sincere smile.

Indeed it is.

He slaps his hand into Alfred's and gives it an equally firm shake. "Nice to meetcha, Alfred. I'm Louie. Won't say no to a drink, what're you having?"

"I was just having some coffee, Louie, but have you ever had a MacAbre single malt? Its a wonderful drink and I owe you one after getting me out of this."

Moist is still eying his jacket with a bit of worry, he could do with a drink too.

"Can't say I ever have," he says. "Where's that from, the, uh, Ankh-Morpork place you were talking about?"

Hah. What a ridiculous name.

(Not that he's judging either! Er.)

"Yes, its made by Bearhuggers' distillery. Ankh-Morpork is on the Disc, if you've ever heard of it."

At this point, that would be a surprise even with the fact that there are other people from the Disc in Milliways.

"Sorry to say I haven't," he says, and really does sound genuinely apologetic about it -- like it's his own fault for having no clue about another world in a completely different universe from his own. "Where's the Disc at?"

"Um, in space. I'm not sure how to be more specific. It rests on the back of four elephants who ride a great turtle through space. Is there a rat? Maybe we can grab those drinks."

Louie seems like a nice guy, but Moist still needs a drink, he doesn't like unexpected things that try to tie him down.

"On a what?" he splutters, and starts to laugh. "Man, that has gotta be the strangest tale I've heard here yet. And yeah I think there's gotta be one around, hang on -- "

He scans the floor for half a second before his eyes alight on a rat. Beckoning it over with a quick whistle, he drops to a crouch to address it more on its level.

"Two...sorry, what were they called again?" He look up at Alfred, the apology firmly screwed back into place. "My memory's not too great sometimes."

Moist's day really isn't getting better, but he keeps his tired smile firmly in place,

"MacAbre's and its fine. Its true."

Now its a little harder to keep the exasperation out of his voice, Moist is a liar by trade, yet his world is true. Some days, he could really grow to hate Milliways and he needs to find out who was trying to catch him.

"MacAbre's," he repeats to the rat. "On this very kind gentleman's tab. Thank you!"

He rocks back up to his feet as the rat scampers away, and cocks his head at the other guy. "Hey, you okay?"

"Sorry, yes."

The tired smile is firm and sincere as well as apologetic,

"I'm being quite rude, whatever did that to my jacket just shocked me more than I realized. Where are you from, Louie?"