milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Last time was just a dream.
Or at least, she'd assumed it was a dream.
So this time must be a dream, as well.
That's as close as Christine gets to actual logic.

Therefore, when she delicately steps through the door, in a completely different, but equally extravagent dress, to find herself in the bar, she doesn't faint, but only gasps and places her hand on her exposed bosom ever so gently.

Okay, she may faint soon. There's dead people in this bar, after all.

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Christine, who recovered from her shock remarkably quickly, turns towards the sound and sweeps over to the other girl in the football blanket.

"Hello!" she exclaims, her blue eyes big and round with concern. "Are you cold?!"

Ace does her best not to stare. Really. Give the girl a break, huh? It's been a long sort of week.
"Err, yes?" I mean, how do you answer a question like that?

Oh, she's used to people staring at her... dress. It's a very nice... dress.

"Oh! I get cold a lot as well!" she declares, sitting down gracefully nearby. "we hardly have any heating at the Opera House! My name's Christine!"

Ace does not usually employ books for anything other than blunt instruments, and her theatre-going has severely dropped off to somewhere below nil (trust me, it's possible), so that revelation means just about nothing to her other than the girl comes from an Opera House, and happens to be named Christine.

Lucky Ace.

"Welcome to Milliways, Christine." Never hurts to be polite. And she is so staring at the dress, and only the dress, thank you ma'am. She has a very nice boyfriend already, the position of significant other is already filled.

"Thank you!" Christine says brightly. "Everyone's so nice here, even the zombies! What's your name?!"

"Yeah, 'cause if they're not my boyfriend locks 'em up." Ace points out. She has very little faith in human kindness. Or any other species kindness, for that matter.
"'M Ace. Nice to meetcha."

"Hello, Ace!" Christine says brightly. "Oh, it must be very nice courting a man on the Watch! One of my suitors was in the Watch once!"

"On the... watch?" Ace replies, faintly. She feels like she just got mental whiplash. "What does a timepiece have to do with anything?"

"The City Watch, silly!" Christine giggles. There's no malice in it. Ace would have to be very hard hearted indeed to take offense at anything said so innocently. "You know, policemen!"

Ace is not hard-hearted.

She is feeling rather tweaked. So many exclamations! Oh lord, now she's doing it.
"Ah. Them. No. He's a bouncer. Bar security." And a kick-arse wizard, and a rather nice guy to know overall, but she's not going to mention that. She wouldn't inflict this girl or her dress on Tim.

"Oh, of course!" Christine looks rather embarrassed, but not for long. "Well, that's OK, too, if you love him!" She smiles brightly, and romantically.

"Err... Yes. With the boyfriend. Thing." Oy, but didn't this girl ever just say anything?

No, actually, she doesn't. But isn't she adorable?

"Oh that's just wonderful!" She declares, clasping her hands together in front of her... dress. "I love seeing people in love!!"

Ace watches, wide-eyed. The girl is getting... perkier. This is frightening.
"That's... good. Love. Good. Yes." She's going with the basics here.

Christine tilts her head with slight concern.

"Are you quite well?!" she asks. "Would you like me to fetch someone?!"

Ace can't help it. She's got this morbid sense of humor...
"Yeah, if you could find Death, that'd be grand." Because her head is beginning to ache with the cheerfulness.

Christine's face pales. She tries to say something, look round for someone...

And then she faints dead away.

Oh dear Lord...

Ace grins. She figures this will do quite as well. Ahhh, blissful non-exclamation-point infested silence.

Christine just lies there, her bosom rises and falling gently with her weak breaths.

Oh, Ace. How could you?

Well, it's quite simple, really. Like overloading a haywire computer. Just give it an equation it can't understand, and boom! Silence. Sure it takes a little practice, but don't worry. You'll get it eventually.

Ace looks decidedly unconcerned. The kid's breathing, isn't she? Sheesh.

But how can you sleep at night? She's unconscious, she's helpless in a strange bar with no one to look after her.

She's letting out a helpless sigh.

Well, that's just the thing, she hasn't been sleeping at night.

Ace looks at the pile of rumpled dress and... er... dress a tad warily. The exclamation points might be coming back.

It's actually not that rumpled!

Oh, right, she must faint elegantly, like 99.999999999% of the population of the universe cannot.

Figures.

Ace wonders if the bar will give her duct tape.

It's a talent, actually.