milliways_bar | (no subject)

I toss Ray a wave from my perch at the bar. One hand's still curled around my drink/dinner and my head's down, but hopefully he'll recognize the suit.

Considering all the people who I've spoken to and the fact that three fourths of them have known what I am, I figure I should be straight with the one guy who was nice enough to welcome me here and explain things. Only fair, really. Besides, if he walked over to talk to me anyway, he'd notice the red eyes since I'd been eating.

The motion catches Ray's eye. It takes him a moment to isolate it as he looks up from his reading, and then another moment more to figure out who's doing the waving. "Hey, Jack," he calls from where he's sitting; he gathers up his papers and scoops up his coffee. "How's it going?"

Shitty, thanks.

"Not too bad."

I don't look up. I don't feel like opening my eyes yet. Not for Ray, for me. I don't think I can truly convey how horrific a night without my home earth is for me.

Ray settles down not too far away- close enough that shouting won't be necessary, but far enough that he won't be invading the guy's personal space. This isn't New York. He doesn't have to maximize available space for everyone else. "Did you get to go home the other night, or were you Bound here?" he asks. "That happened to my friend Peter when he first turned up. I guess I didn't get to warn you about that possibility- my mistake."

"Bound."

I shrug before wincing.

"Not your fault. Someone told me."

I take another sip and if he notices, fine. My head is pounding and I feel sick.

Ray winces. "Oh, jeez. I- I'm sorry, I really should've- are you okay? You look like you could maybe use one of the healers. There's a couple of them on the duty roster, though I don't know who's here just at the moment..."

"Not really all that helpful for what's ailing me. Don't worry about it. I'll figure something out."

I wave him off with one hand and take another sip before looking up to him. I'm well aware my eyes are probably completely red at this point, but as I said right from the start: might as well be honest with the guy. Everyone else had pressed the point.

"So unless one of those healers has some potting soil from Cincinnati, they aren't going to be helping me much."

Ray jumps a little, but- well, let's be honest here. He's seen worse.

"Oh," he says. "Oh, man. Okay, that's gotta suck. No pun intended. And no, I don't think they do- most of them are strictly magical types. I'd offer to try and get some myself when I go back to New York, except there's the little matter of New York being a plane flight away from Cincinatti and there's sort of a major paradimensional crossrip going on there just at the moment..."

There's more of an apologetic tone to his words than anything else, as if he had just been caught with a pantry empty of everything except Coco Puffs by a newly arrived guest.

"They don't exactly stock the stuff at Sears and Roebuck, Ray. Don't worry about it. I'll survive."

Barely. And perhaps not sane, but I'd still be walking around.

"Yeah, well..." Ray shakes his head. "It's still not fair. And I'd ask a few more questions, but all things considered you don't really look like you're up for it. Have things been going okay for you otherwise?"

"Everyone and their mother in law seems to have figured out what I am on sight, mostly because half of them seem to be some kind of version of the same thing, but other than that? Jim Dandy. There was that lovely little experience where someone thought I was their boyfriend, but I don't feel like going into it, if you don't mind."

My head's pounding already.

"Glaaah. Not cool," Ray says, wrinkling his nose. "The worst I've had happen is people asking me the same question even though they've never met me before. Apparently the news of me being asked if I was a god- and giving the wrong answer- seems to've gotten around to damn near everybody in the Bar who was born after about 1970 or so. They think it's funny or something..." He shakes his head and taps the Bar surface lightly; his coffee refills. "At least that's the point they fixate on. There's a couple of other parts of my career I'm just as glad they don't think to bring up. Not that that really compares, of course, but it's the best I can manage in terms of 'brother, don't I know it'."

"Oh, she'd heard of me. Had she heard of me. Apparently, she'd heard about some murders I got involved in in a couple of years. Which is just lovely."

Ray nods gloomily. "That sounds familiar," he says. "Not the murder part. The 'oh, hey, something's going to happen to you in a couple of years' part. My best friend's here from a couple of years in my future. Turns out that things don't have to work out the same way he told me, but for a while there I was getting news from the future that just... well, it wasn't good."

"Dead bodies not good or caught over your tax returns not good?"

"Sued out of business, forced into doing children's birthday parties, then eventually possessed by a dead Carpathian madman not good." Ray wrinkles his nose. "So six of one, half a dozen of the other."

I feel my eyebrows raise and I wince for him.

"Damn."

I throw him a salute before taking another sip.

"God speed away from that, friend."

"Thanks," Ray says, raising his coffee mug in an echo of the gesture. "Like I said, pretty sure it's not going to happen that way, but it was pretty much the last thing I wanted to hear about my future."

Which is not entirely true. Peter only warned him about the lawsuits, and said to beware of Carpathians. It was Ray who went out of his way to find out exactly why. With any luck Peter won't find out.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about what's going to happen in my future, but I can't say for sure. It's two years, pretty far, and things tend to change quick for me. But some of the things she told me sounded pretty good."

He grins.

"I got to open my place. She mentioned it, called me the owner. I hadn't told anyone about it yet."

"Hey, that's a plus," Ray says, brightening. "Going into business for yourself, huh? What kind of place?"

"Nightclub. The Lady Crymsyn."

I can feel the smile on my face, bright and wide and mildly goofy, but I don't care. It's my dream. And Bobbi's right there, and maybe that's the best part.

"Like no place else."

"Sweet!" Ray exclaims. "You've sure got a good town for it. Got anything special in mind for the place? Live bands, or what have you?"

"Live band's the only way to go, a couple of headliners and the finest drinks and eats in Chicago."

Just talking about it made me smile.

"Good evening Ray."

One Guppy with kitten and a mun who doesn't have to go to bed at midnight any more.