The Bar at the End of the Universe

Late October is not the warmest time of year in Sanq, a country that's not known for blistering temperatures in any case. Thus when Sally enters the bar, she's quick to push the doors shut once again against a blast of icy wind.

She's just blown in, as it were, from a fancy lunch party for foreign delegates visiting Sanq for delicate talks with the tiny country's Board of Commerce. Normally it would fall to Zechs to attend such a function - there's something impressive about having the virtual head of Preventer and the Prince of Sanq on hand to oversee security - but since Zechs is out of the country on a tour of inspection, the duty has fallen to Sally. Lucky girl.

Sally heads for the bar and orders and large bowl of udon and an oversize cup of green tea before retreating to the fireplace. She sheds her long wool coat and settles down to eat, a rather conflicting picture with her potentially messy meal and elegant blue satin gown.

Lunch in Milliways? There's no other way to do it, really.

All the crazies come out at Halloween, or at least that's how it's seemed to Sally Po. Were she a woman of less education, and with beliefs more firmly rooted in superstitious nonsense, she might even hazard the opinion that HQ were haunted, or at least that there were evil spirits following her for the majority of the day.

The bottom of the coffee carafe at work had shattered on the burner. The fire alarm had gone off while she was eating lunch. The firing range had been well and truly overcrowded when she'd gone down to relieve some stress. The elevator in her apartment building was under repair, necessitating a stair climb of 30-plus stories that, while not exactly physically taxing, had been extremely annoying and not what she had really needed.

Sally feels a brief moment of relief when she finds herself in Milliways. Now maybe she can finally relax and have dinner, a glass of wine or five, and recover from her day.

The relief is short-lived, and it in fact evaporates when Sally suddenly realises that she's burdened down by an excess of fabric, constricting undergarments, petticoats, and on the whole entirely too much clothing. There's even the sensation of something pinned onto her head, and she unconsciously tugs at the frilly lace encircling her throat while she looks down at herself.

It's definitely a look she recognises from pictures. She's even carrying a small lamp.

"Florence-bloody-Nightingale?"

Sally says a word the good nurse likely would never have uttered, then heads for the bar and a much-needed drink.

The Bar is now richer by one doctor because, almost immediately upon returning from an inspection tour of several Preventer branches worldwide, that is where Sally Po has found herself. Accordingly, she's in standard uniform (t-shirt instead of button-down, however, for greater comfort on the shuttle), and has a garment bag containing her class-A uniform components sitting neatly nearby, along with a small duffel bag.

In spite of her attire, however, she is decidedly off-duty and taking the opportunity to relax, aided by a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies (which she may very well be willing to share) and a Saratoga.

Even doctors have their vices.

That... could have gone better.

Sally is now in the Bar. She's in a chair before a fireplace, wearing the strapless little black dress that every woman should own and a pair of strapy black heels. Her hair's swept up and held with an ornate clip, and she's still got her jewelry and makeup on.

Her expression, however, says that she's trying to forget something.

She's currently being aided in this by a glass of vodka.

Hmm...

Five feet and five inches of uniform-clad medical officer are standing at the bar. As a collective, they look vaguely surprised.

But they also comprise a doctor, and are used to seeing strange things.

All things considered, they're taking it rather well.

Sally Po has never been to the bar before, and she's really a bit curious. Someone want to come and keep her occupied?