This Still Isn't Okay

[unserenemajesty]

So the zero gravity room hadn't been Yet Another Unnecessarily Creative Death-trap. The doors had opened pretty much automatically, once the cowboy and his glider-dog found them. The hallway that followed was still pretty sterile, but at least it had carpets. And sounds. And people in the distance to follow into ... what was this, a nightclub?

"I'm not saying this isn't an improvement," Judith assured. "It is. I'm just still not happy about this at all."

Comments

[immutablysam]

Sam looks around the room, a knife still in hand. The wood, cloth and metal ornithopter follows close behind. The 'cowboy' pushes past Judith a little bit, just in case. 'He's' pretty sure those things at some people's waists are weapons of some sort, even if nothing like Sam has ever seen.

"Leastaways we're on the floor now. Maybe we best find someone with a clue where we are?"

[unserenemajesty]

She'll let him do the getting in front, used by now to letting more combat-ready do that. "Floors are good, yes. I acknowledged the improvement. Can't fault the plan, though."

[immutablysam]

'He' twirls the knife about in hand once, then sheathes it. No one has weapons in hand, and at least a person or two looks about as out of place as... well, ok, about as out of place as Judith, who still looks awfully odd to Sam.

"Bars only change so much, place to place, I s'pose. So maybe we check up there."

[unserenemajesty]

Judith nods. "Yeah, let's get to it, then. I got some people who'd probably appreciate getting word to stop their panicking."

[immutablysam]

"Yeah? Well, maybe someone here'll know how to get word back to 'em, I s'pose. I'm still more curious about what all'a this is, more than worrying about getting back in any hurry." No one waiting on Sam, now.

[unserenemajesty]

"Abso-freaking-lutely understandable. In the meantime, drinks're on me, what with your help and all." Judith unzips the pocket of her shorts to get out the bit of silvery plastic.

[immutablysam]

Sam quirks a brow. "I ain't done nothing yet, but I don't make a habit of turning down drinks." Then the plastic thing gets a glance. "That's... a canteen of some sort?"

[unserenemajesty]

"Well, you've been reasonable company in all this craziness. I'm not hitting on you or anything. Wouldn't wish that on -- huh? No, I'm just getting out my card. Don't know if this place takes credit, but couldn't hurt."
The bar staff seemed a bit occupied with other confused people at the moment. "...And it's going to be a bit of waiting. Well, it's got that in common with a New York club at least."

[immutablysam]

New York? Ok, so first sign of familiarity.

"Ain't been there in ages. Hope all that mess sorted itself out. So... that's some kinda letter of credit, then? Don't know that this place is like to recognize a lot of those. I s'pose, if its necessary, I got some coin. Might be able to return the favor."

No comment on the hitting on bits. Not much of one for flirting.

[unserenemajesty]

"Last I heard they were doing okay, but you never know, one thing after another. At least the clean-up crews get paid well." Judith had heard about the latest Juggernaut attack.

"Letter of credit?" Cowboy clothes, a name too Anglo for his face, been to New York, but with financial outlook suddenly resembling the most backward of her own aristocracy. "Sam, where are you from?"
Because, yes, obviously they'd been teleported, and maybe from the windows they might or might not be somewhere in space, but that didn't mean she was expecting time travel.

[immutablysam]

Sam leans back against the bar a bit, waiting for some attention in their direction. The corner of one lip turns up a bit in a hint of a smile, and 'he' answers the question with perfect accuracy.

"Yes."