It's a bar, with a view out the window of galaxies and stars exploding. There's people in it - not many, most not talking to each other - and out of the corner of his eye something Strange.

"Hey, you alright?" asks a voice, from beside him, just out of sight. The voice sounds like a chorus trying very, very hard to pretend to be a singular voice and not quite succeeding. 

He flinches slightly away from the voice. "I- yes, yes, of course, ma'am, m'sorry."

"No need to apologize. First time coming here?"

"I- yes, ma'am. I- I don't- know. Where? This was- the door should've been to where I sleep?"

"Yeah, this place does that. This's Milliways, bar at the end of the universe. It's a bit unclear which universe. It apparently sometimes steals doors, so they lead here instead of where you were going. Once you shut the door, time's paused in your home universe, so you don't have to worry about people missing you."

He turns a little more towards her, tilting his head. "I- how?" he asks a little blankly. "-sorry. Shouldn't- Don't need to know."

She looks - like she doesn't quite fit. Like someone painted her into reality. Her skin's too smooth, without the little irregularities and pockmarks and wrinkles of normal skin. Her eyes are perhaps a smidge too wide and set too far apart, her smile stretches too far into her cheeks. There's a - raven-like thing on her shoulder, which regards Nova with far too many eyes. It looks like a hole in reality, its darker than black feathers shining with impossible colors, those which remain when all other colors have been consumed.

"Asking questions is perfectly alright! And no one's quite sure. Where are you from?"

He chews slightly at his lip. "I- the- church, on the island, ma'am?" Pauses, thinks about what she's said. "I- don't know more than that."

"It's okay. Hey, why don't we go sit down? You can get a drink from Bar if you'd like, first drink's always free."

"I- yes, ma'am, as you say," he agrees, but doesn't immediately move to do so.

"C'mon, Bar's this way." 

(When she moves, her body seems to be following half a step behind her.)

He's not exactly tracking her, but he stays just out of arm's reach of her body, and follows obediently.

She leads him up to the bar. "Bar's good at matching drinks to a person, if you're not craving anything specific."

"I- just- just water is fine," he mumbles. "I- I don't actually need-"

"It's okay, it's free, and Bar enjoys her work," she says, her face forming into what probably used to be a reassuring smile.

He's not actually looking at her face, but he doesn't have much experience with reassuring smiles anyway. He stares a little blankly at the bar (Bar?). "I uh. Water would be good."

"Well, why don't you ask Bar, then? She'll be able to hear you. She communicates through napkins, and the drinks just kinda appear, so don't be startled, okay?"

She goes up and orders 'something I've never had before' to demonstrate (then leans over and says, too low for Nova to hear, "Any food or drinks or clothes he wants are on my tab." People keep insisting on paying her for consulting with money instead of or in addition to stories, so she has money to burn.)

Something light brown with veins of gold appears on the countertop. Sarah takes it with a "Thank you."

He hesitates for a moment chewing on his lip. "Can I have a water please?" he requests timidly.

A glass of clear water appears on the bar top.

"Thank you," Nova murmurs, although he doesn't immediately pick the glass up.

Sarah sips her drink. "Excellent as ever, Bar," she says, then turns to Nova. "It's fine to drink. Why don't we take our drinks and sit down at my usual table?"

"Yes, ma'am," he agrees, lifting the glass.

After a brief hesitation, he sips at it. (It appears to be water in appearance and taste, in everything except the fact that it doesn't hurt when it touches his lips.)

She leads the way over to her usual table, which is fairly secluded and has a sign laid down so its lettering isn't visible. "Go on and take a seat, any one you like."

He looks cautiously at the seats, and eventually perches on one where he can keep his eyes on the room around him, keeping the glass close to his chest.

She smiles, cradling her own drink. "What's it like, where you're from? If you don't mind telling me, that is."

He shrugs a little, half starts to draw his legs up, realises that probably isn't a good idea and stops. "I- not this?" he says, and winces. "I- don't know. Much. Just- the island. And the church."

"That's alright. I'm just - overly curious about other worlds, I suppose. Mine was a bit... Strange, apparently."

"...o-oh," he murmurs, sounding at least somewhat curious, although he's trying to hide that. "I- I'm sorry I don't know- much to tell you?"

"Anything you'd tell a stranger, from a strange land. It's okay if you can't think of anything, though."

He thinks for a moment. "I- um. S-some people can- do things with elements?" he offers.

"So you have elemental-based magic? That's neat."

He ducks his head, shaking it slightly. "I- as you say," he agrees.

"Is it a problem in your world?"

"I- uh. It's- I'm-" Pause, trembling faintly. "wrong. B-bad.."

"You don't seem wrong to me," she says, gently.

"Fairly normal magic, far as I can read," the raven says, his voice deep and discordant.

Sarah nods towards the raven, then continues with, "And if you are wrong, you're in good company," with a wry smile. "I'm not exactly human anymore, myself."

"I- it's-" He licks his lips awkwardly, fingers tightening around his glass. "They- they say-"

He stops as she realises what she said, looks up almost directly at her. "Not- human?" he seems confused by that.

She smiles, and her skin flickers slightly. Are smiles supposed to have that many teeth? Are eyes supposed to be that bright?

"Used to be. Now I'm something - else. My world didn't have magic, you see, until a great thing attacked. We killed it, but anyone who came too close to the body developed powers. And then, slowly, became more like the thing. I left, when I realized I was growing to be something other than myself."

He's not exactly looking at her face, although he catches the brightness of her eyes, and a hint of too many teeth. "I- oh. I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- pry?"

"I don't mind. I like telling stories, much as I like hearing them."

He's still for a moment, thinking about that. "I- you have more?" he asks, it practically bursting out before he can stop it. He flinches.

"Sure, plenty. Would you rather hear about my homeworld, or a different one?"

He doesn't quite relax, but pauses, trying to figure out the answer to that-

"I- yours? Please? If- if that's okay?"

"It's perfectly alright. Let's see, where to start... Well, my world was of a type known as 'Earth.' Apparently a fairly common type of world, as these things go. Mine had no magic, no special science, nothing to make it stand out amid the myriad worlds except the presence of daemons - we wear our souls on the outside, you see; mind is Tycho, here - and plenty of worlds have daemons." She brushes her fingers against the raven on her shoulder. "We were slowly working on our problems as a people, progressing in fits and starts towards our future. Then, one day in mid-autumn, near the turn of the century, there was a... Problem. Something beyond mortal description appeared in our skies. I'm still not quite sure how, or where it came from. To look at it was to look into eternity, unfolding and twisting impossibly. It flooded every sense with static, and they say that those who looked into its single, immense, writhing Eye went mad from the pressure of its gaze. Animals beneath its shadow started to change into grotesque forms. But there was hope: it was bleeding into the air, already heavily wounded, and over the next few days our world came together to wage a great war upon it. Its body broke up in the sky and fell to the ground; most of it landed in the ocean, scattered pieces hitting wilderness or even cities. And where its body fell, monsters arose. Those people trapped too close to it saw their bodies and minds, their very daemons, twisted by its energy, as they gained immense and impossible powers.

"Monsters spilled out from the exclusion zones where the largest pieces had fallen. We formed groups - often of those with powers, now - to defend our lands and fight the monsters. The Olympians were the first and most famous in my part of the world. There was a problem, though: the more you stayed near the abomination's body, the more you changed, and the more powerful you grew. Eventually the Olympians were no longer themselves, and the organization fell apart. The New Olympians rose from their shadow, only to fall into disagreements a few years later. The Dodekatheon split off from them, and several new groups formed in response. I was part of one of those new groups, the Passerine Society. We focused on using powers peacefully, to improve our world - I built vehicles and machines designed to work in disaster zones. Things... Started to change, though. I spent too long in one of the exclusion zones, once, and my powers progressed too quickly, so I had to leave fairly early into things. We were working on moving between worlds when I left, largely in the spirit of just discovering what's out there, though an avenue to evacuate our world along if needed was more than a passing concern." 

Nova listens raptly, nodding quietly and-

When Sarah finishes, he bites his lips. "I- that sounds- scary?"

"It wasn't scary to live, just... Normal, at the time. But, yeah, closer to the brink than most worlds. The majority of worlds are not like that, though."

He ducks down, bites at his lip. "I- what did- changing- feel like?" He winces slightly, worried she might not want to talk about that.

"Hm..." She leans back slightly, glancing up at the ceiling, and takes a few sips of her drink to stretch out her thought. "Like... It wasn't noticeable at the time. But it was like being excited, being so into a moment you start making unwise choices. Having fun. But maybe you'd pause and look back on yourself, and realize you'd changed. That you weren't the sort of person you used to be. Which is normal, but the change would be in the direction of not caring about other people, or of recklessness, or of wanting more and more power. And it'd be fast."

"...oh." He sounds like he's having a specific thought there, like that...isn't entirely what he expected her to say, like he had a way he thought it would feel.

She (well technically her not-socially-awkward-and-helpfully-clairvoyant-daemon) picks up on this!

"It feels different to different people, though, I'd think. What would you think it'd feel like?"

"I- I'm not sure I just- Sometimes- I- things get- hard to remember. And- I feel like- the fire is- pressing against my skin and- everything goes- quiet. Like- like I'm not- there."

He shrugs. "I- it's just- I don't know."

Does he seem like he would benefit from appropriate physical contact? Maybe a hand-pat or a small hug. 

"I think I've known some people that it'd be like that for them, yeah. That sounds rough."

It's entirely possible he would! If it is appropriately telegraphed at least. It's not something he has a large amount of experience with, if any.

"I- it's- I'm not sure- they say my fire's- evil. And I'm- not- not sure it's not- my-"

This seems like the time for an appropriately choreographed hug, then!

"Most magic isn't evil in nature," she says, gently, "I've seen a lot of worlds, and Tycho here can sense things about what's around him. Your magic doesn't feel evil at all, or even particularly dangerous to me." That's not entirely true, he doesn't feel like he could harm her as he is, but her constantly running don't-get-injured Way has added 'be cautious' as a tag for him, so.

He seems a little startle and confused by the hug, but once he realises it isn't hurting, he leans a little into her.

"O-oh," he says. Pauses. "Is there a lot of other magic?"

"Yes, lots, in many different worlds. Most have one kind, though a few have multiple systems working together. Do you want to hear about some of the ones I've encountered?"

"Please?"

She starts to spin a tale about a grand empire where nearly everyone has magic, where artisans build fountains that run uphill, where the towers of the grand capital city float above themselves, where noble dragons live alongside magicians capable of altering reality with a word. Where there's a city under a thousand skies, the parts linked by magical mirrors. Where all sorts gather from the myriad worlds that are part of that empire - beholders and giants, many-winged birds and willowy singers, intelligent cats that walk on two legs and horses that walk on eight, dogs that only leave footprints in stone and mice that walk on water, women who can turn into beautiful swans or seals or buffalo, mermaids and sirens...

Nova is clearly fascinated and enthralled, listening raptly as she spins her tales, a smile growing on his face.

"I've met people from that world, stuck my head in once. It seems nice, as worlds go."

"It- it sounds it," Nova agrees.

"Do you want to hear more about that world, or something about another?"

"Another? Please? If- If you don't mind?"

A story about a smaller world, then - a dragon as large as a planet, soaring through the endless void. About the people who've made a living on her, relying on the fires in her belly for heat in their sunless existence, and who measure the years by the dragon's slow breath. How the people live, what they make their houses of, the animals they herd and hunt. How the very air is magic, the people breathing in potential and out form.

He's utterly enthralled by the image, breath catching as he imagines it.

More worlds, then, a thousand places she's seen with Tycho or just glimpsed or even heard gossip of, places strange and familiar, places with magic or with nothing but the ingenuity of their inhabitants...

He doesn't know how to respond to all of this. It's beyond anything he could ever imagine. He is, a little, overwhelmed, by just how much else there is out there.

"You want to take a break for a bit? Tell me about your world, maybe? Or you? Or we can just sit, I admit I'm overfond of talking at times."

"I- I wouldn't know where to start?"

"Do you want me to ask you questions?"

"Oh- I-yes? That would--I- be helpful. Please?"

"What does the sky look like?" she asks, first.

He thinks for a moment, and then starts to describe it - the greyness of the predawn, and the way the horizon seems to light on fire as the sun rises, how blue it is on a clear day, and the way it seems almost purple when a storm's brewing, and the dark peacefulness of the star-studded night.

She's appropriately fascinated.

"What does the air taste like?" she asks then.

That one throws him slightly before...

"...Clean? Fresh?"

"Worlds, and places in them, often have different tastes. It's... Interesting," she says in way of explanation.

"-Oh." He thinks for a moment. "That- makes sense?"

"Yeah. Like salt, or smoke, or different soils or leaves. Scents, too, and sounds, and the air feels different often..."

"It changes, sometimes," Nova says quietly "Depending on the way the wind blows. Sometimes it- it tastes..." He doesn't have an actual word for the way it tastes, goes for the closest thing he can, "...cold?"

"Yeah, most human languages don't have a lot of good taste words, do they? Still, I know what you mean..."

"Yeah. I- sometimes I wish there were better words?"

"Milliways isn't good for language learning, unfortunately..."

"It- translates? Doesn't it?"

"Yes. Though it can do so a bit oddly at times with missing concepts."