milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[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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"From here," Mel clarifies. "Not in any euphemistic sense or anything."

Jean smiled. A slow, fond, pleased, knowing spread.

As the gaze of her eyes seemed to settle on the floor. She was not done yet. A part and parcel of her time, and yet outside of it, doing other very important, very necessary work.

Jean raised her eyes again. The echo of flames, and the gravity of the girl. Finding herself oddly at ease with saying, "You must have been very close."

Or very worthy.

And neither seemed wrong to imply.

"We were."

And it a way, it hurts to remember - like a scar across Mel's mind is being rubbed at by the action of memory. The fire, the pain, the unholy need and the battle between what Mel was and what she bore for her sister. All of it forces its way up.

Mel put herself through hell for Rachel, and she'd do it again without thinking.

"We were sisters."

"She found a home here." Soft, simple, even if -- only for a time.
There are so many tasks for their kind.

"She did," Mel says, her smile growing.

"That's kinda what we do here. We provide homes for those what haven't got one."

Another nexus of a sort.
Smaller, simpler.

But, so, important.

And because sometimes the simplest things are the most important, "Why was I brought here?"

"Got me," Mel says, and shrugs. "No one knows. Landlord doesn't really let on."

"They never really do, do they."

Though whether this was to Mel or herself was rather u for debate.

"Never."

Mel shrug again, and smirks.

"So, first drink is on the house."

Jean's eyes focused again, and she smiled. Bemused, remembering food in this torrent of images and tastes that swirled around her suddenly. Drinks, and sweets, and the flavor of Charles' tea when she was a very small girl.

"Alright."

Mel makes her way to the bar by way of a backflip, for no reason other than it being less boring than walking. There, on a barstool, she leans on an elbow.

"What'll you have?"

Hank would have approved. Or Remy. Several of the children. "Gymnast?" is asked in the tone, that reserves her as already expecting the answer to be far more involved than her own yes or no question.

"Tea. Earl Grey." Before a pause, tilting her head, just slightly, as thought listening to something, somewhere else. "Unless there is something else it would be more fitting to start with here."

Cheerfully, "thief. Among other things.

"Earl Grey for the lady, Bar.

"Jean, Bar. Bar, Jean."

Intros!

Jean looked at the bar for a long second.

"How....interesting."

She reached out a hand, very slowly to brush her finger tips along the wood, watching the colors shift just a little bit in the wake of the touch. "Hello, there."

"She's bonded to my boyfriend," Mel explains, not thinking for a moment that Jean wouldn't have questions about Bar. "So it's fun for all the family."

"Bonded?" A curious parrot of the word, moving her hand right before the tea appeared.

Mel taps the side of her head. "It's exactly what you think it is."

It's different for her, she wants to whisper. Jean Grey was put into the ground enough times the parallel isn't exact. And the White Crown. The White Crown --

The a glance toward the door, where white light edges it in her vision. A promises, a whisper, a call. Where the piece will gather. Except it isn't true. They'll gather to her.

"How does that work for her?"

Mel can only shrug. "It works," she says. "I dunno the mechanics of the magic. She's always needed a bartender."

A conduit?

"Maybe I'll ask him," was quiet, more gently curious than pointed.

"He'd like to meet you," Mel tells her.

Then she smirks, gentleness lost in that dry humour of hers. "He'[ll ask you for your autograph."

Jean's eyebrows raised with some surprised.

Mel grins at her. "He likes heroes."

Jean's eyebrows raised with some surprised.

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