"Yes, although by the way you ask that question I presume there is a particular topic you are wondering if they have mentioned. In that case, no, they didn't talk about anything unusual." He tosses a button to himself, flipping it like a coin. "Ramon taught me to shoot a gun, though."
See, that makes him miss his button, which bounces off the table and disappears, possibly down the bosom of some nearby female patron, just to get the full effect.
"Ramon suggested something to me. That maybe I spin time for a bit, walks shadows, and take you, me, him and Namo back to wherever and whenever you call home. For as long as your body lasts."
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Looks like Martin.
Huh.
Mordred eyes him.
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Looks like Martin?
That's a new perspective.
"Hello?"
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He continues to eye him. Half expecting to be punched, actually. Which means his eyes narrow slightly.
"I'm Random. And you know him?"
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It's returned.
"Pleased to meet you, then."
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"Where and when are you from?"
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"Britannia, killed in battle in the Year of Our Lord 517, arrived here as a ghost early twenty-first century as far as I can make out. Yourself?"
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He doesn't look phazed by the 'dead' thing. Been in the bar too long.
"But Britannia I never visited."
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*toing!*
Innocent smile.
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"Goooooorlim?"
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He gives Random a wiggly-finger wave.
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Beat.
"Why?"
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He gestures at the seat across from him.
"Namo or Ramon talked to you yet?"
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"A Gun???"
Blink.
"And it's about a trip we're thinking about taking."
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"Yup."
He blinks back, and tosses his button again.
"You two are leaving again so soon?"
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He cocks his head.
"You. To your home. For five days."
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"Huh??"
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