milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOC: Because I had to do a snoopy dance.
Coherence & planning to follow. Adoption'Comicsverse!]

The door opens to blinding whiteness.
And a woman steps out of it. Through the door.

Emerald eyes blinking; focusing on the funny little room.

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She comes into better, brighter focus; Ben's hand leaves his holster altogether.

She doesn't look like she just came out on the other side of some otherworldly battle, and she doesn't appear to be hurt.

Hell, maybe it's just incredibly sunny on her side of the door. Tropical climate, or similar.

Ben offers a small smile, and inclines his head in her direction.

"Doin' all right?"

The White Hot room was All. And More.

She had to pause to consider that. Strange question. Stranger still was the consideration of whether yes or no fit. There were ragged edges. Not every part had returned. Why was she awake? And here?

"I think so." It capriciously careful, a little confused.

He takes her confusion at face value; casting a quick glance to the rest of the room, he refocuses on her.

And remembers his manners, somewhat belatedly — he stands, removing his hat in the process.

"First time here, or you just weren't expectin' to walk through the door just now?"

"Yes." Because both are quite true.

She looking at his hat. Remember.
Another man prone to cowboy hats.
His gruff voices. His faith.

A beat.

"Oh."

Beat.

"Both."

He gestures to one of the empty chairs at his table.

"Would you like to take a seat, miss? This place can take some explainin', and that's puttin' it nice and light."

And yet. There were flames here.
The echoes of Flames.

Echoes of the Phoenix.
Echoes of Self.

"Thank you," she said, softly. Finger curled, gently, precisely over a chair back as she pulled it out. Her hands remembered the movements, and she sat down, very neat and polite. If looking around. So much both known and not.

Her eyes are remarkable, greener than Ben thought possible.

"Pleasure's all mine," he says, with a genuine half-smile, and seats himself once she's in a chair.

"Name's Ben Wade. Welcome to the end of the universe."

Jean smiled bemused, oddly enough. The last five words had been used to describe her before. Honestly and to a fault.

"The end of the universe?" Which universe?

"Well, let me amend that — to be fair, I reckon it's the end of all of 'em. That door opens, and lets in folks from just about anywhere and everywhere."

He chuckles under his breath, low and graveled.

"The more common name's Milliways Bar."

If it was The End -- the real end, the end of All Things (Again & Ever) -- it wouldn't be on repeat and it wouldn't pause. Nothing would stop it.

But Jean pondered it.

"Milliways," she repeated softly.

"Yes, ma'am. It's a ... I guess crossroads is about the best word I've got for it. We're situated right on the edge of — "

He tips his head toward the Observation Window, where a thousands of stars are imploding and re-forming beyond the glass.

"That."

Jean's eyes stayed on the window for a very.....very long time. The expression unchanging even as she didn't look away.

He sits in silence, as respectful and accommodating as can be; a sight like that can take some time to digest.

At length: "We're safe in here."

Jean stare at the window a long beat still. Beginnings and endings, death and rebirth. A siren song so strong and so sure and straight through her.

But she looked back, still unphased, and her question, had to question his. "Is it?" There was after all, only so safe any place could truly be.

"As much as we can be," he says, with a ghost of a wry half-smile. "I won't say everybody in the place is of the non-violent persuasion, as human nature's still human nature, but there's a security team here who'll put down any rough-housin'. Cells're in the back, so I'm told, for the ones who can't behave themselves."

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