milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's a somewhat flustered and exasperated Bilbo Baggins that strides into the bar today.

You see, it's Bilbo's birthday. And while for many people this means cake and ice cream and games with the people you like best, lately Bilbo had found it means trying to placate every branch of his vast family by inviting them all round for tea and then bobbing up and down to serve while they wish him many happy returns and get crumbs in the rugs.

He's almost rather ignore his birthday than continue to put up with this nonsense. Almost.

Fortunately, one of his pantry doors opened to Milliways.

Bilbo now has different plans for his birthday, and they largely involve staying off his feet.

He climbs up onto a stool. "Ale, please," he says and gets out his pipe.

[tiny tag: Gilderoy Lockhart]

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"Can't say I know much about poetry myself," Alcide admits.

"And it's named after a king, I think."

"It must have been a very great king."

He shrugs. "Think he was just king when they colonized it is all."

"You live in a colony? What's your motherland?"

"No, it ain't a colony anymore. Now it's just part of America," he explains.

And tries not to dwell on how weird it is to be having this conversation with someone who comes up to about his waist.

"Hm," muses Bilbo. "The province of Louisiana in the kingdom of America?"

"State of Louisiana and republic of America. Well, it's called the United States of America."

[ooc: ...totally not the icon I meant to use.]

"very far away," says Bilbo. "I've never heard of such a place, and I like maps."

[ooc: Hee. I just enjoyed the view.]

"Yeah, I figure we ain't from the same universe," Alcide says. "I ain't ever heard of Middle Earth."

"I suppose, then, you don't have Hobbits.

"Most worlds don't, it would seem."

"Don't think so." And he does know most of those things.

"Is that what you are?" He hadn't wanted to ask. It seemed rude.

"It is, and I am.

"My village is called Hobbiton, in a place called the Shire. We're not a republic," he adds. "Though we haven't a king anymore. They've passed into legend."

"So what do you have now, then?" Alcide asks, totally picturing gingerbread houses in his head...

Bilbo shrugs. Hobbit government is...utopian, to say the least.

"Our borders are peaceful. I suppose the Elves look after us, in their way."

There's a great deal that goes on beyond them that Bilbo knows nothing about.

"The Elves?"

Yet another supernatural species he doesn't know about.

"Tall, graceful, beautiful, lovers of music and poetry, fierce warriors?"

So the stories go.

"Nope, never seen 'em," Alcide says.

And that's definitely not the picture that comes into his head when he hears the word.

"I suppose they're something else only my world has." He sighs.

"We got stories of elves, but nothin' like what you described," Alcide says.

After a moment, he adds, "But I mighta met someone like that here once, now I think on it."

"It wouldn't surprise me that they know of this place, with all the magic they possess."

"Not sure anybody comes here 'cause they mean to," Alcide points out. "At least not the first time."

"True enough," Bilbo admits. "But a wiser race such as the Elves may be different."

"Well, this guy didn't seem like he knew about it before he got here.

"How interesting," Bilbo murmurs. "That something would be a mystery even to the Elves."

"I think this place is a mystery to everybody. How long've you been comin' here?"