milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Looks like the long, shiny, well-muscled and highly photogenic arm of the law won this round: Thor came, saw, checked with his boss, and, inevitably, conquered. Darn it! But the nice thing about Milliways is that it isn't sixteenth-century Spain, and the worst that happens is they make you wash some dishes. No flogging, no branding, no executions!

...okay, they make you wash some dishes and give the money back. That part stings. It really does. But it's a cheerful, if slightly damp, Miguel who settles himself down at the bar after his dishwashing shift and tunes up his lute. Guitar. Cittern. Lute. "So what is Wonderwall, anyway, Bar?"

Unfortunately for us all, she gives him sheet music.

((Sorry, we would have wrapped this up sooner, but everyone involved had some busy spells! Tulio-mun is only partly around right now, but will tag in when she can.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The gaze of the sharply-dressed woman by the bar door finds the man with the string instrument, and rests there. She might not be able to help the smile that curves the corners of her lips upwards at the sight. A meme come to life, though with an interesting twist.

When there is a pause in the playing, she approaches with a polite and hesitant smile.

"Excuse me," she says, "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but could you tell me where I am?"

"And all the roads that lead you there were winding--"

Oh! Hello! A pretty lady! Miguel cuts off the song abruptly and smiles. "Milliways! A wond'rous land beyond time and space, home to every sort of...wonder..." Okay, maybe he needs to work on his spiel a little. Can there be too much wonder?

The woman laughs lightly at him and his being at a loss for words. "Amazement? Marvel? Wonderment perhaps, if you don't want to stray too far..."

"I've actually heard of Milliways," she says, tapping her chin with a manicured finger. "Or something by that name, at least, but this is the first time I've found myself actually here. How wondrous."

Okay, so she's only slightly teasing him.

"--How marvelous," he corrects, laughing himself. "Amazing. And really, it is! Why, I was just talking to a magical rat, of all things!"

Okay, well, "talking to," "being squeaked at angrily," they're almost the same, right?

Practically indistinguishable!

"A magical rat? Do tell," she says, eyebrows lifted in mild surprise and interest. "I'm afraid I'll have a lot to learn about such an... extraordinary place."

Remarkable? Astonishing? Incredible? Phenomenal? Spectacular? All of the above, surely.

"You say it is beyond time and space?"

"A place of impenetrable mystery! And, ah, yes--beyond time and space." Or something. That's sort of what he'd picked up. It might or might not be accurate. But it's a stirring enough phrase for him to have started strumming again on his lute, something vaguely mystical-sounding. And anachronistic. "Here be dragons! --But where have you come from, señorita?"

"From outside my building in Los Angeles, actually," she smiles. "I hadn't expected to be entering a bar, much less to be whisked away beyond time and space to where there be dragons and charming lute-players."

Dish-pan hands are quite mystical.

"And you? Where do you come from? I assume the door opens to many different places and times as well, if Milliways is beyond time and space. I would have noticed someone like you if I had seen you in LA."

Possibly. You get some strange folks in the city.

"I? I am from Spain!" A flamenco-ish flourish. Because hey, sometimes foreign people are into Spanish guys! "Lorca, most recently. One moment resting in the shadow of the castle walls, the next--playing lute for dragons and charming ladies descending from a land of Angels."

Okay so it's probably just the name of the town, but he's got to give her marks for coming from such a cool-sounding place. "--By the way, I hear your first drink is free."

wait does that imply he's cheap
maybe it implies he's cheap

"A free drink?" the woman laughs. "They really do want people to forgive the place for showing up unexpectedly, don't they?"

Because that's the way to go about it.

"Oh I love Spain," she says, her look brightening with familiarity. "It's such a wonderful country, though I have not been in far too long."

"You should visit again!" Everyone should visit Spain! Why not? "But do you really come from a place called Los Angeles?"

"I so should," she agrees wholeheartedly. "I've always loved to travel."

"Los Angeles is my current home and place of work. It is a very large and bustling city in southern California, though... I suspect 'California' isn't a thing yet when you're from..." she smiles at him, speculatively, trying to guess at his point in time. Wonderwall on a (guitar? lute?) probably-mandolin confuses matters. "But it will be one day. Due in large part to Spain, in fact."

He's dressed like a very low-budget Halloween pirate, which probably doesn't help place him in any chronology either. But he has a thinky-face on now. And a hopeful-face! "California, California, never heard of it. But is it--could it be--in the New World?"

The woman beams at him. "It is, in fact. The far side of the New World, even, with California's Golden Coast edging the great ocean."

"Golden Coast???"

Rumor has probably seen plenty of people's eyes go wide in her time. But this guy may have them all beat.

She can't help but chuckle a little at his wide-eyed look. "That's what they call it! I mean, the gold was found in the rivers and hills, not on the shore, but you can't really help which names stick."

Edited 2017-01-26 02:58 (UTC)

Sinric happens to pass by, glancing over the other musician's shoulder at the sheet music. "An odd little song?"

Hey hey, the flute-player! Miguel looks up and grins. "I was threatened with violence if I played this, so of course I had to find out what it was."

"I can't imagine why." Sinric frowns, singing the notes softly himself. "It seems simple enough."

"And so romantic! Who wouldn't want to be someone's...wonder...wall..."

Right.

"At least the chords are easy."

"Perhaps there's some story behind it. Some history that makes people dislike it." He sings the chords, his voice is pure and beautiful.

"Oh, it is you again!"

That's the recalcitrant gentleman from last time.

"Would you like a little contribution to your music?"

Aha, the man of staggering genius who saw through Miguel and Tulio's truly impenetrable plans!

Miguel eyes him warily over his instrument, but keeps strumming. "Do you know the harpsichord part to it?"

"Wonderwall?" the gentleman says. "I am sure I can improvise something."

He perks up a little. "So is this a...great anthem of some nation, or...?" He's curious, man!

"It is just a popular song from the 1990s," the gentleman says.

Miguel's singing is hard to miss and Moist isn't working tonight as he notes the dampness. His suit is tweed, neat and he's smiling, that clerking job worked out well, "Long shift?"

"Ah...heh..." It's Cabbage Clerk! "Yes, ah--you know, funny thing, really...very funny thing...your, ah--" There's a barely-audible mumble that might be something like "your check thing has been returned."

"What was that? I didn't hear that," His face is all innocence as he leans closer.

"mumblemumble erm hrm mumble hm hrm."

That's not going to cut it, is it. He clears his throat. "Your check. Was, ah--returned. To the bar. Very funny story really."

"Do tell," He orders a generous drink and waits expectantly.

"...must I?"

Dammit. "Well ah--heh--hm--there was a slight, ah, misunderstanding...we're, ah...we'renotreallyfromthelandlordsowehadtogivethemoneyback."

Moist sips his drink and smiles, "Well, it was a good try but Security here tends to be rather suspicious. It could be worse, they could have put you in the cells."

He digests this response. It doesn't sound very clerkish. "...have a lot of experience with Security here, do you?"

There's no point in playing this man now and he does appreciate what it took to try and pull that sort of job in Milliways, "Here and there."

Guitars are a bit hard to come by in the Capital Wastes, but a few people in Philly have them and prize them highly. The sound of such an instrument is bound to catch Ellen's attention.

And hey, she knows the face of the person playing! Time to migrate over and wave hello.

Oh, it's the lady with the cow and the shiny jar cap bottle cap whatever things. That...have now been returned to the bar. sigh

Miguel waves back with slightly dampened enthusiasm.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only