milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

She is in the bar again.

She has been here before. A single appearance did not break the confines of this fragile space, nor a second, but a third?? How does the immensity of her presnce not overwhelm all who see her?

...they might not all be looking at the right places, but it would be difficult to miss them.

She is sitting at the bar again, with a cigarette and a glass of cheap brandy.

Come and do worship, ye sinners. Come and be corrupted, ye saints. She isn't picky.

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"Hi -- name's Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged. How is that gravitationally possible?"

"You've never met a 'toon before, have you?" Smiling coyly, she pushes her hand against her seat and scoots over closer to him. She now happens to be sitting on.... nothing. She doesn't appear to notice. "Would you care for some... instruction?"

Neither does he, except to idly note that this apparent gravity manipulation is a neat and versatile trick. "I meet everyone, sooner or later. Though I can't say that I've run into your species yet. Which is odd, how far I've gotten, but I've already met one person who isn't on my list at all..."

"'Species'?" She laughs and scoots back. "You mean toons? That's an interesting term for us. What are you, then, honey?"

"You mean, what planet am I from originally?" He gives the name, which probably means nothing to her. "What term would you use," he continues, "if 'species' doesn't fit?"

"I'm not sure," she muses. "I never thought about it. Race, maybe?"

"Then, everyone where you're from doesn't have that grav manipulation trick? Or is it something else that divides 'toon' and 'not toon'?"

"Oh, lots of things divide us, sweetie, and not just the wall. But there are stories. We toons aren't incompatable in the ways that count, they just don't like to see it that way when it's not convenient for them."

"I think you missed an intermediate step somewhere. What wall, and what stories?"

"The wall between Toontown and L.A.," she specifies. "The one we live behind. The one we can't break down, though rumor has it they want to. And stories?"

She looks at him. There's a hardness in her eyes. "Let's just say it's tough to get a job in the real world."

Wowbagger catches the faint emphasis. "So you're... not real?" It would explain the gravity thing, though it would also beg some weird and disturbing existential questions.

"Oh, I'm real, honey," she assures him. She leans forward just enough to give him a good view of exactly which parts of her are real. "But they like to say we're not. And who really knows? It's only recently anyone even found out a way to kill us."

"Then I'm afraid I don't follow what differentiates a toon from a non-toon on your world."

Is 3 AM. Slowtime?

slowtime v. good. night!

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