This sort of thing must happen every day.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

It's not the first time Bossuet has wandered into a bar after getting hit on the head. And it's probably not the first time someone has wandered into this bar after getting hit on the head. But here we are.

He had been walking towards the sound of gunfire. The unfamiliarity of that particular experience--or perhaps the still-tender lump on the back of his head--had given everything a dizzy dreamlike feel. Terribly exciting, but a bit nauseating as well. The sort of sensation that can get a person lost in a half-familiar set of streets and alleys, and make a person think it might be wise to step indoors just for a minute. Just to ask directions, just to get out of the July evening heat. Of course most doors were shut. There was a riot on, possibly even a revolution. But this particular door had opened and--right, here we are.

The new arrival is a dusty young man with a dented hat in his hand and a green-and-gold cravat wound around his head. His coat might have been fashionable in Europe of the early 1820s, back when it had its full set of matching buttons. His tricolor cockade, at least, is new and clean: a festive splash of blue-white-red pinned over his heart. Vive la République. And hello?

((OOC - new player, new character! Bossuet/Lesgle is coming in from the beginning of France's July Revolution in 1830; his friends might remember that he fell to friendly fire (...someone dropped something on him from a second-story window, good work) and went missing for a bit at the time.))

((--and I'm out for the night, will try to get back to the threads tomorrow. Back for slow-times but I don't think I can juggle any new threads unless we've talked about it already? Thank you all!))

Comments

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

His hopeful smile is starting to feel a bit fixed, but he resists the impulse to glance out a window. Playing along with a joke is one thing but he'd rather not look like an utter fool. Not today, not in front of...strangely-dressed possibly-foreign people. "Oh, no? What are we calling it now?"

Kansas is definitely after his time.

[is_the_motion]

"France it out there." Bonnie says. "And will still be when you leave, just as you left it. Here, you are at the end of the universe. If you don't believe me, look out that window."

Beat.

"It's a lot to take in."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Fine, then. He looks, a casual glance over his shoulder. He keeps looking.

He think he might be sick. But that's probably the head injury. Joly did say, once, that nausea was a common symptom. And what about hallucination? That was a symptom of head injuries too, wasn't it? Or prolonged unconsciousness, coma, strange dreams...?

"That is...a remarkable sight. Probably best appreciated with a bottle of wine between me and it."

[is_the_motion]

"The first drink is on the house, welcome to Milliways." Bonnie says.

She's more of a beer connoisseur than wine, but she heads over to the bar, leaving her box of jigsaws, and beckoning him to join her.

"What sort of wine?"

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"The very best the house is willing to part with, Madame." He bows. "Beyond that--in the interests of full disclosure, the kind of honesty we hope to cultivate in the new republic--I should mention that I will have to begin a tab. I gave my last sou away this morning."

Really, he'll take anything. With enthusiasm. The bright smile is back again, though a little brittle around the edges. "If I'd known about your policy I would have come here sooner. But I didn't catch the name of your establishment on my way in...?"

[is_the_motion]

"Ain't mine, I just visit same as you have." Bonnie says. "From outside my door, it's Los Angeles."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"There are angels outside your door?" At least he can feel more certain this isn't real, now. "Are they terrifying? I have always thought that the cherub of Ezekiel was a lovely conceit on paper but not in flesh, and that the daughters of man must have been uncommon brave girls, back in Genesis--do you suppose the house considers a man's 'first drink' to stretch as far as a full bottle?"

[is_the_motion]

"No no, that's the name of the place." Bonnie says. "In America."

She smiles and adds.

"Watch this. Bar, can you get this man his wine please?"

The drink appears on the surface of the bar. Apparently, a small bottle would be a good compromise.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"America! Is that where you..."

Oh.

Oh, sweet Liberté and God on high, it is a hallucination-place with drinks that appear out of nowhere. "...does it always do that?"

He looks at Bonnie like a man in love with the whole world.

[is_the_motion]

"Sure thing, unless there's a bartender."

Bonnie grins.

"Don' worry, I didn't believe it myself first neither. I'm Bonnie."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Bonnie. Isn't that the Scots' answer to Belle?" She should meet Joly--then he could have a whole assortment of pretty-punning names. "A drink with you, Madame."

It would be crude to drink out of the bottle, right? He pours into the glass that accompanied the bottle, and will pour for her if he can find a second one. "You were saying something about America?"

Yeah, he's giving up on squaring this with reality.

[is_the_motion]

"Could be." Bonnie says. "I ain't Scottish though, as I said, I'm American. My folks was plannin' to name me 'Donnie' till I turned out to be a girl."

She holds up her own bottle of beer. "I'm good, thanks."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"That was perceptive of them," he mumbles into his glass. He's still not sure why he's imagining(?) women in such unflattering men's clothing. But he nods appreciatively at her bottle. "The house makes a good beer?" Because the wine is excellent. When he'd asked for the house's best he hadn't expected it to be this good.

Warily, he glances over his shoulder at the window. The...view...is still there.

[is_the_motion]

"Hah! Yes, I suppose it was." Bonnie says.

"And sure thing, you can get all kinds of beer here."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Lesgle arranges himself with the back to the window. Even this bottle of wine isn't helping with the whatever-it-is out there. It's also not helping with his head, which he rubs absently. "I don't suppose they're generous about the tab here?"

[is_the_motion]

"I ain't been comin' here long enough to find out." Bonnie says. "I try not to get one up if I can help it."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Do you come here often, then?" He waggles his eyebrows automatically, because it's a classic old line even in his time, but adds more seriously: "And why?"

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie laughs.

"I have for the last month or two since I found it. It seems to just pop up."