milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Orpheus really should be getting back to Paris. He's got that damn album to finish so he can be done with it and put the whole thing out of his mind.

But he's made an appointment--one that he probably shouldn't have and that several people would probably be upset or at least disappointed with him for making--and he doesn't want to miss it.

So he's putting off going home for at least another night and sitting at the bar with his guitar and his dinner and not a drop of alcohol in sight. (Thins the blood, you see.)

[ooc: Open forever, but all threads will be millitimed to before the thread with Eric.]

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Well, here's someone who's missed the whole hullabaloo entirely.
Claudia's been a bit busy since the last time they talked (and to be fair, neither of them was exactly in their right mind at the time - stupid Milliplagues). There were the Teslas, there was that side quest to Al's world, there was the whole thing with Pete briefly losing his mind, and then the spontaneously combusting wrestlers... so yeah. Life goes on, with nary a guitar in sight, in her case.
What she does have, as she head to the Bar, is a top-bound spiral notebook covered in notes. A lot of them, at the moment, are about Amy Winehouse. (She hasn't found any definite signs of Artifact activity yet, but... it feels weird.)
"I think it's a spaghetti night, Bar," she says, and then she spots Orpheus. "Hey."

Orpheus looks up from his plate of pasta with a smile. "Oh, hey!"

"You're looking better than last time. Buuut I think that could be said of both of us. Stupid plagues, huh?"
(The bowl of spaghetti that appears in front of her isn't your typical affair; there's a lot of meat in the sauce. And onions. And green peppers. And mushrooms.)

(Orpheus' is much simpler, just pasta, veggies, cheese, and herbs with a little olive oil.)

"Yeah, I'm feeling a little more myself this time around."

"Good to know." Really, it is. That whole thing was kinda ridiculous, and Orpheus could probably stir enough shit on his own.
(...Excuse the typist while she laughs her ass off for a moment.)
"I can guarantee that stupid guitar won't be causing any more trouble, at least. Took it home and locked it down."

(...no comment.)

"That's also good to know. Do you deal with that kind of thing often?"

"Part of the job description," she says, twirling her fork in the spaghetti. "I had to figure if we can keep Sylvia Plath's soul-sucking typewriter under control, an infectious guitar wouldn't be too much of a problem, after a healthy dose of 'no, seriously, Pete, don't touch it.'"
Claudia herself is the only other person at the Warehouse who would have been tempted by it, and after experiencing it first-hand, she definitely didn't want to repeat it.

"You know, that explains so much about The Bell Jar," Orpheus says with a laugh.

"Oh, don't it just." Claudia doesn't laugh - having been in the Bell Jar will do that - but she doesn't hold it against him, either. Her job does sound pretty weird from the outside. She gets it.
"And that's not even the weirdest thing so far."

"Sounds like Milliways might be a break from weird for you."

He wonders if it's like that for many more people.

"Eh..." Claudia shrugs. "Different kind of weird, at least. We've got about the only door I've heard of around here that comes here on purpose and stays in one place. I don't think I'd bother, otherwise. Not least because when it catches me by surprise there tends to be Bad News afoot."

Edited 2012-08-06 05:33 (UTC)

"Maybe Bar thinks we need a little of your expertise," Orpheus suggests, nodding sagely.

"Well, I did get to chuck a nuke through a wormhole the second time. Could have done without the rest of the apocalypse, though."
But she's gotta admit, that's one hard day to beat for Worst Day Ever.

"I completely missed the whole apocalypse. Kind of glad I did too."

"I tried to miss the apocalypse, but noooooo. Got stuck here with nothing better to do than fix a busted wormhole generator." She rolls her eyes, in general looking and sounding more flip about it than she really feels.
(She really could have gone without experiencing the whole 'so this is it, we're going to die' thing up close and personal like that. At least the post-traumatic stress dreams aren't as bad now?)
"But enough about me, how've you been?"

He totally understands wanting to change the subject. "Oh, you know, Milliways craziness and whatnot."

"If it's not one thing, it's something else. Hopefully no more musical plagues, though."
One of those was plenty.

(OOC: Meant to add in the first plce, I need to get to bed; slowtime?)

Edited 2012-08-06 06:08 (UTC)

"Yeah, I think we could all do without a repeat of that." He definitely could.

[ooc: Of course! :)]

"Gotta say, as Milliways weird goes, that one was... a doozy."
Not as bad as the apocalypse but definitely stranger than Al thinking he was Watson (as in Holmes and) while not being from a world where Sherlock Holmes is a thing.

Edited 2012-08-10 03:16 (UTC)

"It's definitely been the strangest thing to happen to me here."

He's lucked out in that regard for the most part.

Claudia shrugs. "I deal in weird for a living, you're a few thousand years old - in a way it slides off a little easier, I think. If I'd been paying attention, I'd've known something was up when I was more upset I couldn't go home for my guitar than I was wigging out about being stuck in an interdimensional space."

"I did know, a few times. But I definitely should have known better."

"I couldn't go home during my one sanity break, but I don't know if that would've made things better or worse."
It probably would've depended on who bumped into her first. Artie or Leena, or even Myka, would have realised something was wrong pretty quickly, if Claudia hadn't been able to just tell them. Pete... probably would have just caught the bug himself, and no one needs to be subjected to his 'singing.'
"After the sanity break wore off? Honey badger didn't care."

"You're probably lucky you couldn't. I had a wide open door."

He'll leave it up to her imagination what kind of chaos he could have caused.

If her face is any indication, she's definitely getting a bit of a sinking feeling. (Pete may have the market cornered on vibes, but if she hadn't had some instinct for bad juju, she wouldn't have landed the job.)
"...You do still have a world to go back to, right?"

Orpheus laughs, shaking his head. "Yeah, I managed to contain most of the damage.

"Well, that's good. I mean, the infectious music was bad enough on its own - if it'd really glommed on to what you can pull off anyway..."
She's picturing riots. And that's in the most optimistic case.

"Yeah. I managed to keep a little of myself. Enough not to use my guitar at least."

Once it is full dark, Eric arrives.

He strolls over to Orpheus, looking a little paler than the night before, but apart from that still the perfect picture of a gentleman about to head for the Opera in 1780.

"Good evening, Orpheus" he says. "And bon appétit."

"Good evening," Orpheus says, lifting his glass. "And I suppose I should say the same to you, hm?"

"That would be a thoughtful gesture," Eric says with a smile.

"May I sit while you finish your meal?"

"Of course," Orpheus says. He doesn't mind the company.

"Does it matter what I eat?"

"Not at all," Eric replies. "The more variety, the better."

He settles in a chair and watches Orpheus.

"No avoiding garlic or anything?" He's only half-joking. You never know in Milliways.

"There are no foodstuffs that are a threat to me," he says. Calmly.

"Good to know," Orpheus says, equally calm.

"Sorry if that was a stupid question. You read all sorts of things about vampires."

"Not at all," Eric says.

"And do feel free to ask. I will then feel at liberty to answer ot not as I see fit."

He nods at Orpheus' plate. "Does the food here become you?"

"I've never had anything here I didn't enjoy," Orpheus says, smirking a little. He's not just talking about the food.

"That is good to know," Eric says, with an answering smirk. "Let us hope that it stays that way."

"Let us indeed," Orpheus answers.

He finishes off his pasta with a grin. "Where would you like to do this?"

"I have been told that a private room is best. Or outside some little way away. Both suits me fine, so if you have a preference ..." Trailing off.

"A private room, I think. If you have one."

He isn't sure he wants to do this in his own room.

"I do not," Eric replies. Which is true. He is borrowing one from another vampire, but not one he knows, even less trust.

Besides, he is curious as to what the human might decide upon then.

"You could always ask for one for the evening," Orpheus suggests.

There are people he'd rather not have see him doing this, and being outside is too risky on that front.

So we are hiding.

Interesting.

Eric gets up. "I shall go take care of that," he says. "And I will see you again shortly."

He walks to the Bar and asks for a room for the night, insisting to pay for it at once. He has little money left by now, but that is easily taken care of once he is back in his own world again.

He returns moments later with a key.

"Ready?"

Orpheus gets up with a smile, slinging his guitar over his shoulder. "After you."

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