(no subject)

[unshattered]

She comes in through the back door. That is, with the door halfway open, she seems to forget that through is the idea; her eyes catch on the lights and the tables and the rats and the patrons and she's hovering on the threshold. For more than a minute before she sees her own breath and remembers that it's cold outside. Abigail steps through, and presses her back to the door to close it.

Maybe to take a break from the room, she looks down – black suede boots and blue jeans, a black sweater and a deep red scarf around her neck. Abigail reaches up, hesitantly touching her fingers to the scarf's soft edges.

Then she quickly puts her hands down, and takes a step away from the door.

[OOC: See extra note about how I'm playing Abigail here. Open until it scrolls!]

Comments

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks up, a slim woman dressed all in black, though not the kind of black one would wear in cold weather. Mostly it's a tank top, yoga pants, heavy black combat boots, and fingerless gloves that extend up to her mid forearm.

Her hair is also black, and her eyes are a startling bright green.

There is no expression on her face.

But she approaches Abigail, quick and not too quiet, making sure to keep herself easily visible at all times.

"Hello."

It's a start?

[unshattered]

Abigail looks up before X speaks. Her eyes pass over the other woman, and at her sides, her fingers curl against her palms, pulling at the edges of her sleeves.

"Hello."

It ends a little like a question, like she's not sure she'll be heard when she speaks.

[cutting_edgex23]

"I am X," X says. Because sometimes simplest is best.

She does not fidget. But, since it is occasionally relevant to people who show up --

"I do not think you have been here before."

[unshattered]

Her hands stayed curled at her sides, and she doesn't look away from the woman.

Eventually, she only says, "I don't think so, either."

[cutting_edgex23]

"It can be strange. At first."

This is only the truth.

"But it is not very unsafe. Most of the time."

Beat.

"It is called Milliways. It is a bar."

[unshattered]

She presses her lips together, looking away for a moment before she seems to decide on -

"I don't have any money."

[cutting_edgex23]

"There is a fund," X offers carefully.

"For people. Like you."

X does not mean children.

"And the first drink is free."

[unshattered]

Abigail takes a deep breath, lets it out.

And then, she answers only -

"I'm eighteen."

[cutting_edgex23]

"Okay."

X absorbs that, expression still and calm.

"I am twenty-four."

[patterns_bloom]

Alana glances up from her booth, standing immediately when she sees the new arrival. With measured steps, she crosses the floor to stand before her, as her green skirt flows around her ankles.

"Abigail?" Alana says quietly. "I didn't expect to see you."

[unshattered]

Her eyes widen very slightly, and she glances away, folding her arms against her chest.

After a long moment, still not quite looking back to Alana, "You didn't?"

[patterns_bloom]

"No," Alana murmurs, looking the girl over. "I thought that you were dead. I suppose you still could be, the dead do walk these halls. Pardon me, I haven't told you where you are. This is Milliways, a bar at the end of the universe. Welcome to a sanctuary."

[unshattered]

Her only reaction is to tilt her head farther, now clearly looking away from Alana, maybe to glance around the room again.

"What makes it a sanctuary?"

[patterns_bloom]

"Well, time stops on the other side of your door," Alana says pensively, "so you can use the extra time here in any way you want. The only downside is that Dr. Lecter comes here as well."

[unshattered]

Her eyes snap back to Alana.

Softly, "I guess that makes sense."

[patterns_bloom]

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Alana says, trying to catch Abigail's eyes. "Are you hungry or anything?"

[unshattered]

But Abigail seems determined to keep her eyes slightly averted again. She's just starting to shake her head when instead, she asks, "Why're you here?"

[inanhour]

Sebastian hesitates when he sees her, having just stood up from his sup to find #1221. Instead of going towards the stairs, he takes a step forward and stops, a polite distance from her.

He's wearing plain, mourning black.

"Is all well, mistress?" He's willing to believe it is so -- but -- he feels a sort of sympathetic unease watching her.

[ooc: I am dealing with the dregs of a migraine, but if you're cool with slowtime I'd love to thread :). Otherwise, another time?]

[unshattered]

It takes a couple double takes, and a moment of actual looking her around her own fairly empty vicinity, for Abigail to accept that this person must be referring to her.

And then it's on to the actual question.

"I - I don't think I know how to answer that," she gets out, finally.

[inanhour]

Her confusion confuses Sebastian.

"That is -- " he fumbles over how to re-phrase the question politely, and realizes it's somewhat beyond him. "That is," he says, again, "you do not seem at ease."

[unshattered]

Abigail looks down, pressing her left arm tight against her chest while her right hand fumbles under her hair.

"I think that's just what I'm like, so..."

[inanhour]

Sebastian smiles, hesitant. He has no awareness that she's never been here; all the signals he can read tell him he's just making her unease worse, though he may be overly sensitive about making strange women uncomfortable.

He glances across the bar. Many women are here, on their own, and seem comfortable in it. It's not a place of danger, really.

"Yes, of course," Sebastian says, faintly awkward. "If you have need of aid, a note can be left for Cesario, and I will answer it when I am next here."

[unshattered]

Among her many thoughts are two: That's his name? followed up immediately by Of course that's his name.

"A note can be left..."

Her voices hovers between difficulty following, and uncertainty that they're speaking the same language.

[inanhour]

Sebastian blinks at her, and stops short of actually saying oh. "This is Milliways," he says, and extends a hand to demonstrate he's speaking of the whole establishment. "It is a tavern, and an inn, and there is some forest in the back -- through the door you came from. The bar wood tends itself, most times, through some fairy-magic. It will deliver notes, if you ask it."

[unshattered]

First, Abigail turns, looking to the door.

"I remember the forest," she repeats, her voice flat. But then, she turns back, even shaking her head just slightly as she does, and again repeats his words.

"Fairy-magic."