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Ari is out on a nice walk. It's never cold enough for his tastes in Vancouver (why'd he have to pick the one city in Canada that hardly goes below zero?) but it's January, so it's at least pleasantly brisk. He outright refused Sally's offer of a coat. Her mothering instinct would be more appropriate if he hadn't grown up in a climate that shaded from "harsh Midwestern November" to "the Arctic Circle."
He reaches a nice little coffee shop he found near the harbor and decides to go in for one of those icy coffee slush drinks they have. He opens the door.
That is not the nice little coffee shop.
He looks through the glass of the window. That is the coffee shop. He looks through the door. That is not the coffee shop.
He shrugs and makes his way in, trusting in his knowledge of the Ways and his ability to turn most threats into gravel.
Inside the not-coffee shop is a bar. It's a nice bar. The floors are clean, the furnishings look fairly high-quality, there's a cool illusion of exploding stars out the window; he's willing to give this one a firm three stars on decor alone. He strides up to the counter and knocks to see if he can summon a bartender of some kind.
bitterchill
Hello. What can I offer you today? appears a napkin. First drink is free.
bitterchill
Ari is charmed but not terribly surprised at the sentient bar and appearing napkins. "Hi! Sorry for the knock, if it hurt or something. Can I get some mead? Wyld Centaur brew, if you've got it." He'd get a coffee, since it's two in the afternoon, but "magic bar" implies a fairly wide selection, and he hasn't had Wyld Centaur in ages.
Of course. Some appears.
bitterchill
He sips it tentatively, deems it proper Wyld mead, and carries on drinking in a more appropriate fashion (quaffing, specifically). This is an excellent day!
powershines
The door opens.
A girl who looks like she got lost on her way to an SCA meeting, judging by the lacy, embroidered blue dress she's wearing, peers into the room and tilts her head. The head tilt swings into view the most elaborate, heaviest-looking, spun-gold braid of all time - braids of braids of braids of braids of braids and it still brushes the floor behind her. It is perfectly neat: no stray wisps, no misplaced strands.
She steps inside and peers at Ari, looking like she's probably trying to formulate a question.
bitterchill
He glances over at her and chokes slightly on his mead. If there was an encyclopedia of the fae, this girl's picture would probably be opposite the entry for "SUMMER COURT". If she had a crown, he'd think she was the Lady or something. (He knows what Titania looks like, but he heard Aurora got replaced by some changeling, and Mother only knows what she looks like.) But no crown and no flowers in her footsteps means that she's... probably not royalty. Might be sidhe. Ugh. His teeth grind in his jaw.
But he isn't that person anymore, Belinda didn't die yesterday, he's not going to leap off his stool and punch her into the ground. He turns back to the bar and glowers into his mead. Good mead, maybe not such a good day anymore.
But he isn't that person anymore, Belinda didn't die yesterday, he's not going to leap off his stool and punch her into the ground. He turns back to the bar and glowers into his mead. Good mead, maybe not such a good day anymore.
bitterchill
...That's not a Fae greeting. Shows weakness. Poses a direct question, without even wanting the actual answer. Hell, it's polite. What's going on here?
"I can tell you where you are," he responds cautiously. "I'll tell you if you tell me whether or not you're a faerie."
There's really no way out of that one. There's wiggle room, but everybody knows hedging on a simple question is suspicious. Plus, it's tit-for-tat. He sits back on his stool and eyes the mysterious stranger challengingly.
"I can tell you where you are," he responds cautiously. "I'll tell you if you tell me whether or not you're a faerie."
There's really no way out of that one. There's wiggle room, but everybody knows hedging on a simple question is suspicious. Plus, it's tit-for-tat. He sits back on his stool and eyes the mysterious stranger challengingly.
bitterchill
...Well, that's pretty definitive. Faeries don't lie. He smiles broadly. "Good to meet you! Sorry about all that, can't be too careful with the fae around. You're in this bar! Seems to magically appear places. It replaced the door to my favorite coffee shop, though the shop itself seems to be fine."
He looks her over again, now that he knows she can't be fae. "I don't know whether it's doing some time travel thing or going deep into the Nevernever to catch someone dressed like you, though. Fashion has moved on. Based on the fact you've never heard of faeries I'd guess you're just a nice blonde lady from the very distant past. Welcome to the year 2007, in any case. I'm a wizard, somewhat, and this is a talking bar." He pats the bar's surface. "Gives out drinks and such."
He looks her over again, now that he knows she can't be fae. "I don't know whether it's doing some time travel thing or going deep into the Nevernever to catch someone dressed like you, though. Fashion has moved on. Based on the fact you've never heard of faeries I'd guess you're just a nice blonde lady from the very distant past. Welcome to the year 2007, in any case. I'm a wizard, somewhat, and this is a talking bar." He pats the bar's surface. "Gives out drinks and such."
powershines
"It magically...?" Claribel touches the wood of the wall. "Huh. I... understand almost none of what you just said but I'm not sure what I ought to ask about first."
bitterchill
Time for the "explaining things to aliens" game! Ari's played this before, though not with actual apparent aliens. "So, bars are these places where you drink alcohol and sometimes eat food and sometimes hit people. Magic is when something impossible happens because someone else used their willpower and energy to make it happen, such as the door to my favorite coffee shop turning into the door to this bar. Faeries magic critters that aren't important right now, the Nevernever is the place where the faeries live, fashion is when the way people dress changes, 2007 is the year it is now, wizards do magic which I explained earlier, and the bar is a bar!" He beams at Claribel, who may or may not have caught any significant portion of that. "Basically you're in a place that has things to drink. The drinks are good. It's weird."
powershines
"I know what a bar is, and for that matter what fashion is. Magic is... different, where I'm from. It involves more plants. Also, 2007 is not the year it is now where I'm from. It's 503."
bitterchill
"Ah, bars and fashion are universal. That's good to know," laughs Ari. "And it seems like if you're going to change something about the universe, magic is the place to start. Pretty sure people from 503 didn't dress like that, in my world, either. We seem to be from very, very different places! Welcome to the year 2007, and also to this universe. Or possibly a different universe between our universes. Enjoy your stay."
Technically, there should only be one universe accessible to any kind of magic. Ari can hardly be called "inflexible", though. He's capable of taking weird alien magicks in stride. "So what's your magic like? There's plants involved for some reason? Are you a plant-woman?"
Technically, there should only be one universe accessible to any kind of magic. Ari can hardly be called "inflexible", though. He's capable of taking weird alien magicks in stride. "So what's your magic like? There's plants involved for some reason? Are you a plant-woman?"
powershines
"I... am, sort of, a plant-woman, actually," says Claribel. "But most of the magic stays in the plants. I'm unusual. Er, if you're from somewhere totally other than where I'm from there's no point to going by my more recognizable name. Please call me Rapunzel if it comes up. What's your name?"
bitterchill
Names, names. She's not fae, but he's not an idiot. Magic plants sound unlikely to use his name in a binding or a death curse or something, but there's no reason to risk it. "My name is Ariel," he says cheerfully. Not quite a lie, not quite his true name either. Certainly not his true name in true voice, which is what it'd take for her to do anything with it if she wasn't big enough to crush him like a bug anyway.
"Rapunzel, eh? Nice name. Is it common where you're from?" He's not going to poke the "two names" thing if it's not necessary. He of all people knows that you don't always want to talk about all of your names.
"Rapunzel, eh? Nice name. Is it common where you're from?" He's not going to poke the "two names" thing if it's not necessary. He of all people knows that you don't always want to talk about all of your names.
powershines
"Not exactly? It's kind of complicated. I'm used to going by it, though."
bitterchill
Complicated names. That's nothing new. "Well, no harm to me to go by it. So, how are you "sort of" a plant-woman? Do you feed on sunlight? Leaves in ticklish places? Does your enormous hair conceal a system of roots, I'm going to assume it's related to the magic somehow."
powershines
"The hair is, uh, related, although it is all in fact hair. I don't - want to go into too much detail... But the way it happened is that my mother ate a magic plant while she was pregnant with me."
bitterchill
"Magic plant results in great hair. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me. How do you keep it from, like, breaking your neck, though? Because with all due respect to your spine, it kind of looks like it's working overtime."
powershines
"It just never bothers me. It's very well-behaved. I don't think it's actually lighter than it looks per se but it doesn't give my neck any trouble."
bitterchill
"Very nice hair, then. I wonder if you could weaponize that somehow, braid in a bag of shot for proper balance and become a living flail..." He hums in thought, then shakes his head. "Nah. Just get a morningstar. Not worth the trouble."
He has a bit more mead. "You want to come over to the bar, or should we keep calling across the floor? Not that I mind, it's just you're missing out on your free drink, and judging by this mead that seems like the kind of opportunity you don't want to miss."
He has a bit more mead. "You want to come over to the bar, or should we keep calling across the floor? Not that I mind, it's just you're missing out on your free drink, and judging by this mead that seems like the kind of opportunity you don't want to miss."
powershines
Rapunzel steps cautiously forward. "There doesn't seem to be anybody -"
Hello, says the bar.
"Oh goodness."
What can I get you for your free drink?
"Um - the tree in the backyard, I haven't had a chance to taste the -"
Sorry, says the bar, I can't produce magical drinks.
"Oh. I suppose that makes sense. ...I don't know, what do you recommend?"
How about this? And there is something creamy and orange with dark flecks and whipped cream on top.
Rapunzel peers at it, then tastes it, then beams.
Hello, says the bar.
"Oh goodness."
What can I get you for your free drink?
"Um - the tree in the backyard, I haven't had a chance to taste the -"
Sorry, says the bar, I can't produce magical drinks.
"Oh. I suppose that makes sense. ...I don't know, what do you recommend?"
How about this? And there is something creamy and orange with dark flecks and whipped cream on top.
Rapunzel peers at it, then tastes it, then beams.
bitterchill
Aw. Smiley Rapunzel. Happy people make Ari happy! He is happy that she is happy. Thank you, bar.
"So, what do you do in your medieval planty world, anyway?" he asks for want of a less cliché topic. "You look... noble, or possibly somewhat more than that. Are you a noble lady? Who is also a magic gardener lady?"
"So, what do you do in your medieval planty world, anyway?" he asks for want of a less cliché topic. "You look... noble, or possibly somewhat more than that. Are you a noble lady? Who is also a magic gardener lady?"
powershines
"I'm a princess, actually. But I only recently found out."