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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"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."

That's such a very different stance than most of her world.

"Are there many here?"

"Few," Mel says.

"Me, Robins - plural. Mike, 'course. X-23. Batgirl. Sure I've seen Wonder Woman. Few used to come that don't anymore, like Rach."

There are several things she take to note there.

But it's with a glance toward the other people, that she asks, "How long do people usually come through for?"

"It depends," Mel says. "I been here for six years, now. Some come for years, some months. Figure a year's about average."

"Does anyone know how long its been here?"

"No."

Mel's pretty sure on this one. "But I don't think many people've been coming here that much longer than me. And it's changed a lot since I started."

That was a little disconnected wasn't it.

No one knew how long ago it had started, and yet how much had changed from the start. And longest person in its current invention had only seen six years of.

How much could have been.

"What was it like when you arrived?"

Well now, you're taking her back.

Hugging her knee, Mel looks around.

"No mountains," she says, starting with the obvious. "No stables, either. That whle wing," a nod to the staff wing, "was built when I was new. We've picked up extensions since.

"When I arrived, it was - just a tav, with a lake out back."

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heartofthedream - 2011-08-01 23:59 (UTC) - Expand

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slayer_fray - 2011-08-02 00:00 (UTC) - Expand

"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.

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