milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Peter enters the bar from the back door -- or rather, Peter has every intention of entering a disreputable looking pub in London, and enters Milliways instead.

Oh.

Here again?

A man won't be safe to use the washroom soon but he's transported here.

Hair plastered to his head, he sheds his soaking wet greatcoat, hanging it up to dry and crossing to the bar.

Hot buttered rum, please.

He fishes a book out of his pocket, looks relieved that it is dry, collects his drink, thanks the bar politely, and retreats to a corner to read.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

*Valentine wanders over with a tray under her arm.*

Good afternoon, sir. Can I get you anything? Perhaps some dry clothing or a towel?

Peter looks up, surprised.

Thanks, I think I'll just...drip dry a bit. My clothes are all right, the coat kept most of the damp out. If you happen to see my glass empty, keeping it filled would be splendid, otherwise I want for nothing. Materially, at any rate.

You're new here, aren't you? How d'ye do...Peter Wimsey. Lord Wimsey if you like that sort of thing.

He holds out his hand and smiles.

*Val holds out her hand and shakes his.*

It is a pleasure to meet you, milord. I am Valentine Wiggin, and yes, I am new here. I have achieved my position only about three days ago.

*She smiles gently*

Pleasure to meet you, Miss Wiggin. Congratulations, I suppose. Business must be well if they're taking on more waitstaff -- not that I doubt it. I suppose you're from some distant past or other universe or some such. Nearly everyone is, around here.

He glances down at his book, and a momentarily sad look crosses his face.

Still, it's peaceful, isn't it.

*Valentine chuckles*

I, actually am more than likely from your future.

It is quite peaceful, actually. *She raises her eyebrows* Are you alright, sir?

A wan smile.

Fine, thank you. I suffer a lack of peace, especially peace where one can find a decent drink.

My future, eh? And when do you hail from, then? Do you know the lovely Ms. Vorkosigan?

*Valentine ponders for a moment*

No, I haven't heard of her, actually.

There is a lack of peace in any world, actually. My world is plagued by people who can never have peace due to things beyond their control.

As with mine, then. It would make me a nihilist if I bothered to believe in anything.

He takes a sip of the buttered rum.

And I suppose if I were to stay long enough, Milliways would no doubt prove no different. Still, allow me to keep one or two illusions. He grins suddenly. I shan't misuse them.

Lord Peter, good afternoon! It has been too long.

My Lady Tere, it has been ages, hasn't it.

A genuine smile.

And how are you? Still performing? When shall we see you sing in a London review, eh?

I couldn't stop performing if I tried!

A London Revue...Zeus, it's been ages since I did anything like that...It could be fun though...

They are all the rage these days. I don't often go -- can't abide people talkin' over the performers. If you do, however, look me up. I'll bring a party of sober respectable gentlemen, though I've no clue where I shall find such a thing on short notice...

I've a great deal of appreciation for sober respectable gentlemen, but they are frequently too...polite as an audience.

*She smiles and sparkles*

Still, I should love to perform in that sort of venue again. It will bear pondering...

And how have you been these weeks that we have been desolately without your company?

*She notes his book*

Reading something fascinating?

Yes, a too-polite audience can be...He frowns.

Well, the sober stares, the attentiveness...it can be offputting.

As I have learned, as you say, in the weeks away from Milliways, though I suspect I have missed this place far more than it has missed me.

He picks at the corner of the rather tattery book.

Marcus Aurelius. Nothing fascinating; merely...comforting.

May I increase your comfort with a song, Lord Peter?

Perhaps a quiet one. I like the quiet in here.

He looks around, and smiles faintly.

Mmm...Quiet is often lovely.

January to December
We'll have moments to remember

The New Year's Eve we did the town
The day we tore the goalpost down
We will have these moments to remember
The quiet walks, the noisy fun
The ballroom prize we almost won
We will have these moments to remember
Though summer turns to Winter
And the present disappears
The laughter we were glad to share
Will echo through the years
When other nights and other days
May find us gone our separate ways
We will have these moments to remember.

Lord Peter listens intently, head slightly cocked.

No one ever sings about forgettin', do they. Though I imagine if they did it'd be harder.

A sudden bright, false smile.

Well done, my lady. You really ought to consider London, you know.

*Her brow furrows in confusion at the jarring facade*

Is something troubling you, my Lord?

His smile eases, slightly, into something more genuine.

Nothing that need concern you, my lady. That was a lovely song.

Should you need to talk, my Lord...Musicians often listen very well.

[ooc: sorry, RL intruded. Fun playing though!]

*Beatrice slips out of the Arch House painting, looking better than she has since before the...incident. She sees Lord Peter, grins, and walks over*

My lord. 'Tis excellent to see thee again.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only