milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Trillian's back at her booth, furiously writing.

That magazine will feel the Wrath of Demosthenes, for certain, and also of Trillian, astrophysicist and friend.

She also has a glass of merlot. Yes, before noon.

Perhaps it's inspiration.

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"Jasin," he begins, "agreed to start a band with me if I could get you and Nita to be dancing girls. I don't want to actually do it, and you don't need to dance. I just want to play a little joke on him, mess with him a bit in return for setting me on fire."

"Seriously."

Trillian laughs. "Did Nita agree?"

"She did." He smirks. "She made me promise to immitate his face for her when I tell him. Though I don't see why you two couldn't come along and just.... be there."

"Well," Trillian grins. "If Nita said she would, then I will as well."

"Wonderful! That is wonderful. Thank you so much, my lady."

"-- you can just call me Trillian, you know. You're not Antarian."

If he is, it's new to her.

"I am not," he agrees, "but you are a Lady wherever my home."

"Am I?" She smiles cooly. "May I ask why?"

He gives her a puzzled look, as if she were asking him what color the sky was. "It is the way of things," he says. "All women are to be treated as nobility, and all children as one's own, and all men are brothers in times such as the one I came from. It is how we lived. It is how we survived. And so you are a Lady, whether you were born a princess or a pauper."

"Or a simple middle-class Islington girl," Trillian nods, managing to accept this. "Shall I call you Lord Gorlim, then?"

He laughs. "Not unless it pleases you to call me that, for I am no Lord. Traitor I am, and even had I held the title once, it would be forfeit."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to refer to you as Traitor Gorlim. I believe that just Gorlim will suit - it is a rather nice name, unless you'd prefer one in Dutch."

Which is Trillian's chosen language of throwing in random words.

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