(no subject)

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford had given up on Milliways ever showing up again. It's been years since he opened a door to somewhere he wasn't expecting to be. So when he finds himself here today, it actually kind of startles him. He'd almost forgotten what it looked like.

Milliways looks the same. Wilford does not. He's only a few years older, but those years between late 20s and early 30s have filled him out a bit. He's been spending a lot of time at the gym, or out running around playing street games in his spare time. He's also jetlagged, cramped, and starving, and annoyingly still dressed for a job interview. He heads to the bar, and first asks how long it's been since he was last here.

A couple of days. Of course. Because that's a perfectly normal and acceptable way for time to behave. But fine. He doesn't care, because right now, he needs to eat something that didn't come frozen from the galley of a jumbo jet. Steak, eggs, baked potato, and some green stuff on the side that he immediately decides to ignore.

Comments

[iprotectyou]

Baze ambles down the stairs and stops at the bottom, squinting at Wilford. Is he... Bigger? Weird!

"Hey, asshole," Baze says as he approaches, and settles his armored bulk onto a stool near Asshole.

"Are you older, or is my eyesight going?"

[cottoncandypink]

Well, this guy hasn't changed. It's been a while, though. Wilford looks up at him, trying to remember the last time they crossed paths. He seems to remember getting punched.

"Are we fighting?" he asks.

Just to be clear.

[iprotectyou]

Baze blinks at him.

"Did you want to?" the Guardian says, folding his arms.

"If we're going to spar, you probably shouldn't eat too much, just in case I hit you in the stomach."

[cottoncandypink]

"No?" Wilford wants to eat, and then get out of these clothes. "Gotta level with you, pal. It's been a while for me."

Which is probably why he looks older.

[iprotectyou]

"That makes sense," Baze says, cocking his head to the side.

"Door didn't show up for a few years? I keep forgetting that time stops on your side of the door while you're in here."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford sighs, and then realises he's less likely to lose his things here than he is on an aeroplane he has exactly 30 seconds to get off of. He takes off his tie and tosses it down onto the bar, so he can unbutton his collar and actually breathe.

"Yeah, it does that. Pain in the ass."

He chuckles quietly. "I'm probably going to get shot for it."

[iprotectyou]

"Uh," Baze says, raising his brows.

"That sounds like a personal problem, but why, again?" he says, watching Asshole make himself more comfortable.

"Also, what are you eating? It looks delicious."

[shakemyhand]

A very tall young alien is sitting at the bar sipping at a glass of cold water. He hisses at the sight of Wilford's meal. He will never understand human food. What is even more confusing is the man's pink mustache.

"You are human," says Guide.

[cottoncandypink]

Human food is delicious. And has lots of black pepper and yummy goodness.

"Yeah," Wilford says, sparing the other, uh, guy just a brief glance. "What are you?"

[shakemyhand]

"Wratih," growls Guide. His nose burns from the smell of the pepper, "What is that you are eating?"

[cottoncandypink]

The pepper is what makes it good.

"Never heard of that before. What's your deal that you've never seen steak and eggs before?"

If this thing's never seen steak and eggs before, any explanation Wilford has to offer would just be pointless. So he decides not to offer one.

[shakemyhand]

"We gain our sustenance in another manner," he says looking at the palm of his feeding hand.

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford suddenly decides he doesn't want to know.

"Cool. Go do it somewhere else."

It's probably gross, whatever it is.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Hannibal Lecter is coming from the kitchen door, a well-laden breakfast tray in his hands.

"Good morning," he says politely. "How is your amazing stone-swallowing dog?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford looks around. He's not actually sure.

"I'll let you know when I see him."

Logically, he knows that the dog probably hasn't even had enough time to notice anything is different. But it's been several years since Wilford's seen the animal, and going to look for him is on his list of things to do after he's eaten.

[cook_the_rude]

"Do you usually leave him here when you go to your world?" Hannibal asks.

[cottoncandypink]

"I can't take him with me right now. I'm not in the right time for it." He pushes the asparagus right off his plate, wondering why his dog isn't here to eat it for him.

"Creating a time paradox isn't exactly the sort of thing you want to become famous for."

[cook_the_rude]

"It's always a danger with Milliways," Dr. Lecter says. "Tell me, Wilford, what would you like to be famous for?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford sits here in an expensive suit he hates wearing, and his hair a mess in the way that tends to happen after spending all day on a plane, and regards Hannibal for a moment. He tries to think back to the last time they spoke. It was... Christ, years ago.

"Exactly what I already am famous for. Reporting the news."

He'll be even more famous iff the next few weeks go to plan.

[just_cant_lose]

'You're annoying.'

News at eleven.

Jim orders a coffee, and slips onto a seat.

'But wow, actually dressed like a real boy for once.'

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford hates this suit. It's all expensive and professional and horrible, and Wilford would burn it if he didn't need it to look like a productive member of society every now and then.

"Fuck off." He stabs one of his eggs, breaking the yolk.

[just_cant_lose]

'Nah.'

Mmm, coffee.

'How long's it been? Four years?'

Judging by the state of his villa, it's been four years.

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford thinks about it. "Probably. Sounds about right."

God, he hates this suit. He pulls off his tie and tosses it onto the bar, so he can unbutton his shirt collar. It makes him feel marginally better.

"What side did you get stuck on this time?"

[just_cant_lose]

'In here. Like hell am I getting trapped out there while you do your thing.'

The idea worries him enough that he's only paying Los Santos brief visits. He can't work while this shit's going on, but he can lay groundwork for the future.

'How many more years have you got to make up?'

[cottoncandypink]

"Might be good for you. Actually learn how things work."

Or not. He can keep being a lazy ass about it. It's not Wilford's problem.

"I don't know. Couple more maybe?" He's not quite there yet. "I'm interviewing in LS if that helps."