milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Zel knows it's discouraging to have lost the Sword of Light to Jillas. He understands that.

But why don't Lina and Gourry realize that it's more important to press on and catch up to him and get the sword back than it is to mope and whine and... ugh... apparently melt into formless heaps of misery? And where did those clocks come from?

Zelgadiss had gone on ahead to find the way Jillas had escaped through the caverns, but he hadn't expected to find Milliways waiting for him. Never let it be said that Zel doesn't take opportunities when they present themselves - he's quite glad to hear the sounds of Lina's and Gourry's muddled whining cut off as he closes the door behind him.

This calls for a drink. Possibly two. Soon, Zel is settled at the bar with a glass of wine.

Utterly botherable.

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He's not the only one at the bar; it's been that sort of a day in Freeside. Arcade does his best, but honestly, if people are going to keep looking for him in the research area and demanding to know if this or that looks infected to him, nothing's going to get done. Especially if the question was asked because someone wanted reassurance, which he's really not good at. At least this place is clean, and no one's likely to complain about him visiting it somewhere that Julie and the others can hear.

He nods at the newcomer to the bar and reaches for his own glass. "Afternoon," he says. "Escaping the demands of misguided employers, or am I alone in that particular condition today?"

The chimera looks at him over the rim of his wineglass as he takes a sip.

"In that particular condition, yes," Zel replies, wirelike hair shading his eyes. "I am not currently employed, but I am escaping."

Misguiding and moping friends can be just as bad as employers, sometimes, and they're not even paying you for putting up with them.

Arcade nods. "Useful place, this," he says. "Quiet can be hard to come by."

Given that this is Milliways, 'quiet' is obviously a relative term.

"Well-meaning friends and family who don't know when to leave off?"

"Friends," he affirms, "moping about a situation rather than working to fix it."

They'll come around, eventually... he hopes. Lina can be terribly stubborn, sometimes.

Arcade shakes his head. "Good luck breaking them out of it," he says, "or at least good luck not being anywhere around them until they get over it. If people are going to be useless about things, I tend to prefer it if they have the decency to keep it to themselves."

There's a pause.

"... which is probably more than a total stranger needed to know. My apologies for the intrusion."

"Don't worry about it," Zelgadiss smirks, wry. "At least one of my friends tends to be as vocal as possible about her displeasure."

"I believe it's either done for stress-relief or done in the hopes that if she annoys someone with her complaints enough, they will do something to rectify what is causing her to complain."

"Currently, she and another friend are resolute on melting into moaning, complaining puddles rather than doing anything of use."

That rates a snort. "Sounds familiar," Arcade says. "Mostly from patients back home. I don't envy the people who work with them directly. Or your situation, for that matter. Are they likely to come around any time soon?"

"Not likely," he scoffs, "unless something happens to snap them out of it."

Thus why he was searching for a way out of the caverns.

"You are a healer?" Zel hazards a mild guess, from the references to patients.

"Not much of one. More of a researcher," Arcade says. "I mean, I'm licensed to do a healer's work, but... I'm not good with people. And somebody has to study and test the healing properties of the local plants and wildlife to figure out how to make it better, so that's mostly what I do. My name's Arcade Gannon."

Zelgadiss nods. "It's important to make sure things work before they're used."

"I used to work in such a lab, though I haven't stayed in one place much, in the last few years." The lab he'd worked in, destroyed. The ideals Zel had worked towards, shattered. The man he had worked for, dead. And good riddance.

"Zelgadiss," he introduces himself. "Good to meet you, Arcade Gannon."

"Good to meet you too, Zelgadiss," Arcade says. "Now, I could be wrong, but I'm guessing between one thing and another that you're probably not from the Mojave region. Beyond that, I don't think I could peg where you're from. I'm not sure I should even try."

"Considering I have never heard of the Mojave region, I believe I can safely say I am not from there," Zelgadiss smirks.

"I am from... well, all over. Currently somewhere east of the Desert of Destruction, somewhat north of the Temple of the Fire Dragon King."

Hopefully the dragons have almost completed the rebuilding by now, since they left.

Zel sips his wine, wry. "And following a fox who's stolen my friend's sword."

"Given the nature of the place most of the Mojave probably earned a name along the lines of 'desert of destruction'," Arcade says, "but we've got a severe lack of dragons, and the only thing east of us right now is Caesar's lands. Definitely safe, I'd say."

And then his expression changes, and he says, "The fox's name wouldn't have been Inculta, would it?"

Seriously, if the Legion's figured out how to hop from one place to another using this bar....

Zel shakes his head, drinking his wine. "This fox's name is Jillas. Wears an eyepatch and a grey-green cloak, and favors explosives. We've followed him down the river into a cavern, but we seem to have lost him, currently. The door here appeared while I was looking for how he got out."

"My apologies. Vulpes Inculta is the top spy of Caesar's Legion; his name means 'desert fox'. I thought it best to make sure." Arcade shakes his head. "No eyepatch, unless he's been hurt since the last time he showed his face in public. Pretty legendary for his use of a ripper, though.... none of which is likely to mean much here. So your Jillas is still somewhere in the shadows on the other side?"

"Most likely there was a secret hatch or tunnel that he knew about, and he got out of the cavern that way," Zelgadiss replies. "I have a suspicion that, in following him to get the sword, we are also following him back to his boss's lair."

"Which is going to make matters interesting if you haven't got your weaponry in order when you find him," Arcade says. "Lovely."

"Gourry is pretty much useless without his sword," he will admit. His own sword is hanging at his side, its hand-guard sharply pointed and with a red pommel stone that matches the red stone fastening Zel's cloak at his neck.

"Nice piece of work," Arcade says, indicating Zel's sword. "Not something I'd know how to handle, myself, but we each have our own techniques and preferences, I guess..."

"I've had this sword four years now," replies the chimera. "We know each other pretty well."

Despite how he looks and acts, he is only eighteen, under all that literal and metaphorical stone.

Mia wouldn't mind a drink herself, actually.

She's packed up for a business trip, which usually isn't much of a bother. But ever since Cepheus apparently decided to help her, she's had to unpack and repack a few times.

"Long time no see, Zelgadiss," she says, taking a stool by him and putting a small bag on the bar. "How are you?"

"Well enough," he replies with a slight smile. Lina and Gourry are being a pain, but what else is new?

"What about you, Mia? You look well."

"Doing well with the exception of having to pack my luggage over and over; I'm going on a business trip soon and Cepheus has decided to pack some things I've apparently forgotten."

Mia reaches into the bag and produces a ziploc bag full of Cheerios.

"This is probably the tenth or eleventh time I've had to go through my bags."

"He wants to make sure his mother doesn't go hungry," Zel says, wry, vaguely recognizing the dry cereal as a type of food. "It's good that he wants to be helpful to you."

Unlike, for example, the two moaning puddles of glop in the cavern waiting outside his door.

"Is he going with you on the trip, or staying at home?"

"Or get cold," she adds, pulling out a baby-sized hat with yarn pompoms. "He'll be staying at home with Draco and they intend to have a boys' week while I'm gone. Though I will be bringing my two not-quite-sons, who are considerably older than Cepheus."

Zelgadiss thinks for a moment, considering the hat and its pompoms.

"By sneaking things into your luggage, he might be wanting to make sure you think of him while you are away, as he will miss you. You might be able to allay his worry about you leaving by accepting one or two items he offers and thanking him for thinking of you."

"You could be right."

Mia rubs the fabric of the hat between her thumb and forefinger.

"All the same, I know he's going to miss some things if they're gone for an entire week."

She puts the hat back into her bag. She doubts Cepheus will need it just yet. When she pulls her hand back out again, she's holding a green teddy bear.

"Darn it, Mister Bear. This is the sixth time you've shown up in my bag and, unless Cepheus has charmed you to hide in my luggage, I don't know how you keep getting there."

Zel smiles, hiding it behind taking another sip of his wine.

"How old is he, now?"

"Nearly a year and a half. He's figured out pretty much everything a boy that age needs to know: how to run, how to argue, and how to streak in front of polite company."

Not that Mia minds all of those that much. Running is an important skill, arguing means he's thinking for himself, and the streaking is usually tolerated.

"We've had to put sticking charms on his diapers so that he doesn't make more of a mess than usual. Some have theorized that this is why sticking charms were originally invented."

"Necessity has always been the mother of invention," he replies. "I am glad he is doing well."

"Thank you."

She sits Mister Bear on the bar and orders some tea for herself.

"How are your companions, by the way? I recall meeting one of them here when Cepheus was considerably younger."

Zel looks surprised. "They're fine."

That's stretching the truth, but the truer truth is that they'll get over what's wrong. Eventually.

The more pressing question of the moment is: "Who did you meet?"

"A girl named Amelia. She was quite polite and rather charmed by Cepheus. It was her first time in the bar when I ran into her but I haven't seen her since, I'm afraid."

Ignore the brightening of his look at the mention of Amelia, Mia. It's all your imagination.

Totally.

"Amelia's found her way here?" He'd ask why Amelia didn't tell him about it, but then remembers: he didn't exactly tell her about Milliways, either.

"It's been a while since I've been here. Maybe I just missed her."

Oh, absolutely. That must be it. Same with Scorpius the last time she mentioned Albus.

"It looks that way, yes. And I suppose you did since she didn't mention seeing you here. Maybe you'll bump into her sometime."

"If I do, hopefully I'll survive the berating I'll get for not telling her about this place," he replies, wry but smiling.

Mia laughs.

"Oh wouldn't that be awful? I didn't see much point in keeping this place a secret, so I've told my family and friends at home. It made explaining Draco considerably easier."

She picks up her cup of tea and has a deep drink from it.

Zel smirks. "Ah, but I found this place first while we were adrift at sea without food and water for many days."

He remembers Lina's complaints all-to-easily.

"And I don't want to consider the backlash from Lina and the others if they learned I secretly had access to a tavern during that time, even though I did bring back some supplies for them. I claimed I had found them in the ship's hold."

"Good point. At least you weren't heartless about it."

~~No matter what Zelgadiss may prefer.~~

"I suppose concealing the truth is better than only telling part of it in some cases."

Considering the still-widespread belief in Althena, yeah....

"You're not still at sea, though, unless you're now on your return trip?"

"Not still at sea, no, and not on the return trip," he replies.

Zel hasn't found what he's looking for, yet. Oh, and the world hasn't been saved yet, but that is secondary.

"We're currently chasing after a fox who's stolen Gourry's sword. Or would be, if Lina and Gourry weren't choosing this time to be completely useless."

"Sounds like the sort of thing Draco might do," Mia muses before taking another sip.

Her husband always did have a penchant for dramatics, particularly when somehow slighted. When it wasn't frustrating, it was hilarious.

"I would think Gourry's sword would be sufficient motivation. They need another carrot dangling in front of them?"

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