milliways_bar | Twelfth Night Party, Pontmercy style!

You -- yes, you, whoever you are -- got an invitation to the party. All of Milliways is welcome!

If you choose to come, you'll find Bar directing you to a big round tent that went up this afternoon on the lawn outside the bar. Marius and Cosette and various friends spent a lot of time this morning ferrying decorations in, and the waitrats spent a lot of time in the afternoon ferrying food in, but the doors won't officially open until close to sunset.

But this isn't a cheap white plastic tent, oh no. It's warm and domed and made of thick fabric, something like a very large yurt. A bit of magic keeps out the drafts, making everything extra cozy.

There's a fire in the middle of the floor, with a low screen encircling it but also magic meaning that this fire puts of warmth but will not actually burn anything, even if you step right into it. The floor is wood -- great for dancing, if you feel like it! There's a piano over against the wall for anyone who wants to make some music.

Everywhere there are garlands of European evergreen branches and herbs, studded with bright dried fruit and sparkling ornaments. (Mistletoe might very well be among them, though the Pontmercies haven't thought to supply that as an intentional party game.) There are candles and lanterns everywhere, and a big chandelier. There are no electric lights at all -- it's all fire -- but a good number of them are magical, so that nothing's going to get set on fire or covered with smoke. The general intended impression is of genteel, welcoming festivity, in a very French and very early 19th century European way.

There are food and drinks galore. Come in and enjoy the party!

[OOC: Party-style post! Subthreads for various categories and activities, etc. Open from now until whenever!

Edit: As of Joly's arrival, Cosette now has a mini-polaroid camera. Fear, Milliways. Feel free to assume that she's popped up to take a candid picture of your character(s) at any point, as long as they're not doing or wearing anything scandalous! She will happily give the resulting picture to your character if they want; it probably won't be a very good picture, in terms of composition or focus, but it will be cheerfully enthusiastic.]

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Clearly, Cosette's mother has made this explanation many times, quickly dispelling Poirot's curiosity.

"That is most wonderful, madame, that you have had the chance to see what you normally should not. Perhaps that is why the Bar, she exists as an afterlife for us as much as it exists as a bar for others."

"Yes," says Fantine, and then hesitates, noting how he said 'us.' "So--this is your afterlife, too, then?"

"Oui. I have been here some months, but the pieces of my life that I left behind, they have not come here." Aside from finding Ariadne Oliver's novels in the library.

"That is sad," says Fantine, and then remembers what coming here means. "I mean--it's not sad that they live, but it's sad you can't be with them. Do you have children?"

"Non. I did not have the opportunity to settle down." Something he made peace with long ago, but that still makes him feel some regret.

"Oh." She sees the regret. "That's sad, if it's something you wanted...when you say you didn't settle down, do you mean you had a very busy life?"

"I did indeed have a very busy life. I was long in the Belgian police, and then working as a private detective in London between the wars." He pauses not sure she would get the reference. "Two great wars that affected Europe."

"Oh, police."

Fantine's experiences have not been such as to make her trust policemen. But this man seems pleasant, so she takes a breath and refuses to panic.

"...two great wars? Do you mean when Napoleon ruled, and France warred with the rest of Europe?"

...her frame of historical reference is also fairly different from Poirot's.

Her reaction to his former occupation makes him wonder what sorts of run-ins she or someone close to her had with the law.

"These are later wars, I am afraid. Though in my time, France and England are no longer enemies."

"Oh," Fantine says, wonderingly. "Well--that is good, I suppose."

Then, mulling over something else he said, she asks, "What does a private detective do?" She has a very hazy idea of men who sneak around following others, dodging behind buildings and carriages, but somehow she cannot picture this man doing so.

"I solve crimes that the police chose not to deal with, or that they cannot deal with, or that are far too complex for the average mind." Preferably the last, of course.

"Then you must be very clever." Or the police very stupid, but Fantine doesn't say that part.

"Ah, I suppose that I am," he says with no false modesty. "But I did not do it merely to be clever. I did it because it needed to be done." Most of the time.

Fantine conceals a smile at the lack of modest pretense.

"How did you solve your crimes? Did you wear disguises, and give chase to wrongdoers?"

...she can't quite push aside the fear that anyone connected to the police will see her as a wrongdoer. But, she reminds herself, she has broken no rule in Milliways and cannot be touched.

"I have not given much chase to the criminal since I was young and in uniform in Brussels." That was...that was so long ago he cannot recall the date he went from the uniform to plainclothes. "And the disguise...that is something in the works of fiction. I used my little grey cells, and my eyes and ears, to piece together the truth.

"Though," he adds, "sometimes one of my associates did give chase when the wrongdoer fled."

Fantine thinks about this. "It sounds like interesting work," she says. She wouldn't mind watching people and thinking about what they might have done and why. "What--" She's hesitant again, but presses on. "What kind of things did you catch people for? Thieving...?"

"On occasion. More often that not, murder. Sometimes, affairs of the state." Though the kidnapping of the Prime Minister - the one before Chamberlain no one remembers anymore - is still a state secret.

Affairs of the state. So he had been a powerful man, a detective to statesmen and kings. "Do you find Milliways dull, after all that?"

She adds, "For me, it's--restful. But what you say makes me wonder if others find it dull, to come here after death."

He considers this. And chooses his words well.

"I must admit, it is a little dull sometimes. But there should be no murders here. There should be no crime. And I have served my purpose in life and do not need to serve it again." Despite missing equipment from the infirmary and rumors of bombs in the garage, he feels no temptation to end this retirement.

"And yet they have Security here, so there must be some crime."

"Yes, that is quite true. But none so far that require my skills. And it is always for the best if that is the case." As ever, Poirot must face the conflict between finding challenges and hoping for a just world. But in an afterlife, the former must take a back seat to the latter.

Twelfth Night Party, Pontmercy style!

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