milliways_bar | (no subject)

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At some point in the day, the door opens upon a bright seaside afternoon, the breeze bringing in the strong smell of sea air, colored with the smell of people and animals, rare spices and fresh fish. The smell of a busy city and its justly famous markets, with mingling sounds to match, voices haggling for better prices, or raised to advertise wares obviously much superior to those in the neighboring stalls. Amid all the hustle and bustle, Yrael slinks in through the door and lets it quietly close.

Unhurried and content for now, the white cat sits a little ways away, and begins fastidiously cleaning the last traces of fresh fish from his claws and whiskers.

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Joly looks up from his reading at the sound of the door's brief opening, frowns a little when he sees no one come through, and then notices the cat.

Joly always notices the cat.

"Hello there, how'd you get in?", he says, in the voice used by people whose day has just been greatly improved by seeing a cat. He thinks a moment. This is Milliways..."Can you actually tell me?" he adds, in a tone of slightly more normal curiosity.

The white cat looks up from its ablutions, blinking bright green eyes at Joly in a manner that, in a human face, might indicate one is waiting for the questioner to see the obvious.

"As you might have noticed mere moments ago, I came in through the door. In the traditional manner of utilizing an entryway," answers the cat in a slightly dry tone. That is how he got in.

Edited 2014-10-28 15:44 (UTC)

Joly is briefly taken aback.

Very, very briefly.

Then he grins. "You can talk! Oh, we thought there might be some cats who could. Are you a cat? I mean, right now, but are you always a cat? How does that work? Was that a door to an Earth, or is your world something else? How do you open it, though, without hands, did it open itself? My door was rather tricky. Hah, rather late too. Oh, I'm Joly! Pleased to meet you."

The cat gives its pink paddy-paw a final lick and a considering look. Deciding it is clean, the white cat puts down its paw and lets its white tail wrap loosely about its feet.

"I do not yet know whether it is a pleasure to meet you, Joly, but I am inclined to find out," the cat mwrrs, curious. "Might there be something offered, to wet the throat answering all those many questions?"

"I have wine, if you like wine, and a spare glass." He always gets a spare glass now. "I can order whatever you like, of course. Though you probably can too. But I'm happy to have it on my tab instead."

It is taking enormous effort not to coo over the cat. But it's probably bad manners to do that with anything that talks.

"Wine would be well appreciated," he answers. Deciding it is probably less trouble not to talk across distances, the cat gets to its paws and streeeeeeetches langorously, flexing claws, yawning wide to show very white, needle-like teeth. Rising out of the stretch, the cat pads with no great haste over to Joly's table, where it uses one of the empty chairs as a springboard by which to leap up onto the table itself.

"What is it you are reading?" asks the cat, curious.

Joly pours wine up to almost the brim of the glass. He holds up one of the brochures on the table.

"This one is about calibrating diagnostic machinery for different metabolisms. The book's about infectious disease control. By the way, Monsieur Cat, I am trusting you to know your own tolerance." Though Joly's not sure why he should, since he can't trust most of his definitely human friends to moderate themselves.

"Oh, no need to worry about me - wine and I are friends of old," smiles the cat, showing a pale pink tongue as he laps briefly at the glass. "I know my limits."

It isn't Atlantean, so there is no reason to stint.

"You study medicine, then? As student, a journeyman or fully-fledged doctor? Or is it merely a hobby?"

It's probably not appropriate to think a talking cat is adorable drinking wine, either. Well, here's hoping it's not telepathic as well as verbal.

"A student. I was within a term or two of becoming a doctor before I came to Milliways; but the field is so advanced from my own that I am almost starting again."

He feels no qualms about laughing at himself, and does so. "At this rate I will surpass my friends' delay in finishing their law degrees. But at least I have the time to learn things properly, here."

The cat purrs, a deep, rich sound, and blinks his bright green eyes slowly. "That is one of the most worthy qualities of Milliways."

He does not say in my opinion. It is his opinion. His own. And thus it is fact.

"That there is so very much to learn here, beyond what one could dream of in one's own world alone."

Joly would never expect a cat to be humble.

"Yes! Even outside the library, and the infirmary. To be able to talk to people from other worlds, other--other planes of existence, like we used to meet people from other streets; it's incredible. Maybe there are worlds where it's common, but for us these things were only for the most fantastic stories."

Like talking to cats who one should almost certainly not scritch behind the ears. "Do people wander in and out of worlds often where you're from?"

Edited 2014-10-29 17:25 (UTC)

"Not often, no, though I am not the only one from that world who has found this place in the past," says the talking cat whose soft, white ears one should certainly scritch.

"Have you yet visited other worlds than yours? You may not be able to stay very long, but much can be learned and experienced in a mere few days."

Joly gives in; a lifetime of training by other cats overcomes human probably-propriety. This cat will surely claw his hand away if it's unwelcome, though Joly's long since learned the Right Way To Pet Cats.

"Not yet-- I only learned it was a possibility a few days ago. And I've had my studies to focus on-- I should be working in the infirmary shortly,and I don't want to give a bad impression. But soon-- yes, it still sounds wonderful. I'll need to see where exactly I can go."

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mogget_cat - 2014-11-02 03:46 (UTC) - Expand

Dr. Hannibal Lecter is sitting at a table, eating a plate of salad with shrimps as Yrael comes in.

"Good afternoon, my friend," he says.

Yrael smiles, pleased to see his friend, and pads over towards the good doctor.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Lecter," he says, briefly circling the man's ankle before leaping up onto the table by way of an empty chair. The myriad scents of a bustling market cling to him, softening the faint tang of Free Magic he carries with him always.

"I hope this day has found you well."

Edited 2014-10-28 17:40 (UTC)

"It does," Dr. Lecter says. "You're not coming from New Orleans today."

"No, I have come from Belisaere, capital city of the Old Kingdom, and its justly famous market. It is the last Belday of summer, and so there is much to find."

To find and purloin, if you are a hungry cat (or something that might pass as one, if no one looks too close).

"They seem to be selling some interesting spices there, to go with all the fresh fish," Dr. Lecter says.

"The Spicers Guild, among the many others, has made an admirable comeback since the time of the interregnum, providing the flavors of a great many lands to the tables of the citizens, some even to the palace kitchens," Yrael smiles, tailtip twitching idly this way and that.

After a moment, he adds, "It is barely past mid-afternoon there, and the days are long yet. There would be ample opportunity, should you wish to explore."

"I very much would," Dr. Lecter says. "I've been cooped up in here for some months now, and would quite like to see something else."

The cat makes a faint hissing sound in its throat. "Never a good feeling, being cooped up anywhere, even in such a place as Milliways. Alas that I do not often think to visit the world of my origin, else I would have offered earlier."

Padding to the edge of the table, he leaps to the floor, shifting into his human shape as he does.

"I will have a word with the Bar regarding suitable camouflage, for while we are there."

"I'll probably need different clothes," Dr. Lecter says. "Unless plaid suits and paisley ties are common in Belisaere?"

"Not at all common, my friend; the fashion scandal alone would likely hinder any trip to the markets, and the cloth-makers guild would likely want to have a word with you about them. Thus the camouflage," Yrael grins at him over his shoulder, moving to the Bar to order a set of proper, Old Kingdom clothing for late summer in Belisaere - thin layers of smooth, finely-woven cloth. An under layer of pale cream, a middle layer of pale gold-colored cloth, tastefully and minimally embroidered at the wrists so that the thread-of-gold will glimmer just so when one's hands move, and the lightest, topmost layer of a medium teal, almost a sea-blue, with a intricately-worked belt of deep forest green, its buckle touched with gold. Clothes of the sort a well-to-do out-of-towner might wear during his time in the city.

Yrael makes sure to request a set of colors that would not inadvertently declare membership to a guild or mean something they do not mean to say. The clothes he requests speak of one discerning with his wealth, rather than anything overt. Those who flash their wealth become a target for thieves, while the experienced merchants know how to spot one who has both wealth and the wit not to advertise it, and will be that much more eager to please.

"Here, these will suit you better in Belisaere than a suit would."

Edited 2014-10-29 05:30 (UTC)

Dr. Lecter has, in the meanwhile, finished his salad, and now stands to accept the clothes.

"I will look like something out of a medieval fantasy," he says. "That pretty series with the dragons people are so enamoured with -- Game of Thrones?"

Yrael grins at him, eyes shining and teeth bright. "I have heard that title in passing, in New Orleans, generally with great enthusiasm for it and stories of other worlds of... swords and sorcery."

Generally from people who likely wouldn't survive a week in such worlds.

"The Old Kingdom has plenty of sorcery and swords both, often in tandem," the Bright Shiner smiles, "though alas, we have not seen the likeness of what humans think of as dragons for a number of centuries. I will say it was a singularly unpleasant mode of travel - far too much jostling, with sudden rises and falls."