milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[A moment ago . . . ]

There is a young woman standing on the shore of the lake.

She wears a long dress, well but simply made, and of a style that could belong to a dozen times . . . or no time at all.

Both the dress and the woman's hair are wet.

She turns slowly, in a full circle, looking all around her.

"What country, friends, is this?"

Would anyone like to let her know it's not Illyria?

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That ... lady's speech sounds a lot like something he'd read in literature.

Albus turns to glance over his shoulder.

"Um - are you all right, miss?"

Viola considers this.

And then shakes her head.

"That cannot be the answer. Speak again."

"Erm. Milliways?" Albus tries again.

"Um. That's where you are. It's not exactly a country, it's ... just the end of the universe."

"There is no reason to these words, nor sense.
But like the babbling of a running stream,
They are only heard, no answer supply."

Which is to say . . .

Huh?

Well, that's an interesting way of speaking.

Albus blinks a little, looking apologetic.

She's speaking like she's from -

Okay.

Trying again.

"Where - erm. Where were you before you saw this place?"

She gestures to the water dripping from her dress and hair.

"Aboard a ship, that wrecked upon the rocks
And cast me here ashore, in country strange."

"Oh. Um. I'm sorry," he says sympathetically.

This is starting to feel a bit ... weird.

Like a sort of deja vu, but not.

Familiar, but ... well, not.

"Well, um."

Yeah, even if he explained that this is Milliways, again, that probably wouldn't help.

"Erm. I could get you a towel, if you want? To - um. Dry yourself off."

"That would be most appreciated, sir."

It's not terribly comfortable, dripping water.

"And may I ask the favor of your name?"

"Oh. Right. I'm Albus Potter," he says, starting to get up from his seat.

"And you?"

"The Lady Viola of Messaline.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir."

. . . what.

"Erm.

"Um.

"Yes.

"Likewise."

Merlin's beard!

"I'll - um. Get that towel, now."

Yes.

And he'll try not to fall over, too.

"And from what place will you be getting it?"

Because towels don't exactly grow on trees.

And she hasn't quite processed the building yet.

"The Bar?"

Quickly gathering his wits about himself once more, Albus gestures to the bar in the distance.

"Um. You can - come with me if you want," he offers. "Or you could wait here, and I'll be right back. The Bar can - um -" His voice gets a little quieter "- be kind of a shock if you're not really used to things like ... magic."

Edited 2011-08-08 02:52 (UTC)

Viola thinks for a moment.

"No more a shock than I have faced today.
I'll go with you, if that the fashion be."

Albus nods.

"Right. Okay."

He offers her a smile.

"Um. This way, then."

He starts to head for the bar.

"How came I to this place, Albus? Know you?"

It's really odd.

For a moment, Albus' brain is far too busy doing flips of glee and confusion (but mostly glee) at his actually speaking to one of Shakespeare's creations.

Then he focuses on her question.

"Um. The Bar sort of brings people from any point in time and space, from any world at all. No one really knows why, and it's impossible trying to figure it out."

"I do not understand. From any world?"

Like, plural?

Albus turns to glance at Viola.

(Still flipping out.)

"Um. Yes?"

He rubs his nose.

"For example, I'm from a place called England in the year 2023 AD."

Viola is silent for a moment.

When she speaks, it's half to him and half, well, aside.

"Have I, in fever or a dream, this place
Created, given form and aspect to?"

She looks more directly at Albus.

"Is rude to ask, I know, but are you real?
Live you? Speak you? Breathe you? Or do I dream?"

Because Albus knows how wacky all this sounds, right?

"This is no dream, Lady Viola," Albus says, realizing that a line like that could easily belong to a play.

(He has to quell his heart from glee-ing.)

"Erm. I mean, it's definitely real. I know it doesn't sound like it could be, and - um. Things are probably going to get even more bizarre, but it's real.

"I think you start to realize it's not a dream when you come to the conclusion that your brain can't possibly imagine some of this stuff."

"I see. I cannot I made you up."

It'd be a bit of a stretch.

"What do I need to know about this place?"

"Oh - um. Where do I start?"

Albus laughs, apologetic.

"Well, this place is ... um. Quite magical. It's called Milliways, like I said, and um. It's sort of located where all of time and space meets and ends. You'll meet all sorts of people, I suppose, and you'll learn a lot.

"You've already seen the lake. There's also a - um. Training area, and the woods, and a library inside."

"A library inside, and woods? All here?"

She looks around, and laughs a little.

"Oh, were this played upon a stage I would
The author's tale condemn as folly rare."

Albus does not squeak.

It would be undignified and completely lame, and also quite rude to do so.

He nods, instead. And smiles a little.

"Yeah, it's all here. And the Bar - um. Well, you'll see, but she's sort of ... magical, too. She's sentient."