(Untitled)

[there_is_a_me]

Spoon went through a fair number of apartments last night, but- as he'd expected- failed to find any caches of alcohol in any of them. Which sucked, but eh, what could you do. Eventually he found an apartment that would suit- not too much shite on the walls, a structurally sound ceiling, south-facing windows- and settled in for the night. Even with

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[somebodysdog]

Angua, meanwhile, has found the flat in which someone's been stockpiling a pile of dried food, and metal tins bearing labels which read like food. Nos she just needs to figure out how to get in them.

Hearing someone in the corridor, she pokes her head out round the door. "Hey..."

[there_is_a_me]

Ting.

The last attractive woman Spoon ran across started off as a ticket out of Hell and turned out to be anything but. Spoon stops in his tracks, blinking, and smiles. "Well, hullo there-"

There's an odd prickling along his spine, but he ignores it.

[somebodysdog]

"Hi," she repeats, almost distractedly. She doesn't really need that kind of reaction right now.

Instead she holds up one of those round cylinders she found. One that promises some sort of cooked bean food. "Um. I don't suppose you know how to open one of these?"

Yes, she sounds like a damsel in distress. Yes, she hates that she does so, but yes, she's also hungry, and she doesn't much care.

[there_is_a_me]

Spoon hasn't got this far in life by common sense alone. At the request he pushes down the reaction and holds out a can. "Oh, yeah," he says. "Give it here."

He pulls his Swiss Army knife out of one pocket and extracts the tin-opener attachment, which he starts working around the top of the tin one puncture at a time. As he does so he asks, "Couldn't find an opener, eh?"

The alternative is that she's never seen one before at all, which he might believe of Katara, but which seems a bit weird in someone older for some reason.

[somebodysdog]

Unfortunately, it's true. And can't actually be backed up due to the fact that without her brass accessories, Angua's outfit consists of brown leather shirt and skirt over leggings. Not that common a sight, but not really marking her out as a High Fantasy inhabitant either.

"A what?" she asks, staring with unabashed interest at the device in the man's hands. Nobby would do his nut.

Angua is unware of the existence of Shawn Ogg's much more versatile device.

[there_is_a_me]

Maybe some sort of university student come from a play, tops.

"A tin opener- look, you've never seen these before?" He finishes cracking the can all the way 'round and slides the opener under the jagged metal edge, prying it open. "There you go, that should do it... this's my jackknife, it's good for this sort of thing."

He hands over the tin, wipes off the opener attachment, and offers the knife for examination.

"Have a look if you like, but I'm going to want that back. My name's Spoon, by the way."

[somebodysdog]

"Thanks," Angua takes the can and peers at the contents. Beans in something red. Huh.

"No, I haven't. Food in metal boxes, huh? Clever idea. I'm Angua, pleased to meet you.

The knife is treated to a more appreciative examination - as much of one as can be afforded to it with only one hand to do so, as Angua steps back into the apartment, leaning on the door to hold it open. "OK, this is a handy little thing as well. One of the lads back home'd give one of his fingers for this many blades so close together.

"There's a whole lot of these boxes in here. Looks like someone's been collecting them.

[there_is_a_me]

"Yeah, I think they invented 'em to keep soldiers fed on long campaigns a couple hundred years ago. Where I come from, anyway."

He grins; it would take a stronger man than Spoon not to take pride in people's reaction to his equipment. "It's pretty standard, miss. There's fancier ones out there, but they get awkward in the pocket. Bought this one last time I was up in Edinburgh." It occurs to him- "That's on Earth, by the by. Where's back home for you?"

Spoon then glances over at the tins. "Huh, so it does. any sign of 'em living here?"

People get so tetchy when you bust into their house and eat all their porridge.

[somebodysdog]

"Not a sign. Just the food and some bottles of water. The bed isn't slept in."

And it doesn't smell like anyone lives here.

Angua hand back the knife, frowning in puzzlement. "Ankh-Morpork... where's Earth?"

The 'different worlds' issue was only slightly touched on by Josh.

[there_is_a_me]

Bottled water. That sounds promising.

Spoon folds up the knife. "Earth's my planet," he says. "My world. Third planet out from our Sun- look, if you don't know planets and such I don't know that anything I could tell you'd make much sense. It's not where Katara's from, though. Different world altogether."

[somebodysdog]

Angua pauses, thinking quite heavily for about a second.

No wierder than being suddenly magicked here from nowhere, right? Right.

"OK," she says, with a nod. "Katara's magic is of a sort I've never seen before either. That makes sense. Ankh-Morpork's... well, we just call our world the Disc."

Beat, and then in a slightly more annoyed tone: "Wait, how many of you share the same sun?"

Is that even possible?

[there_is_a_me]

Spoon gives this some thought, and mentally slots 'the Disc' into the same approximate space as 'the Ringworld' or 'the Dyson Sphere'. That done, he nods. "Not anywhere I'd know, then-"

He tilts his head curiously at her tone. "Well, there's nine planets and the asteroid belt," he says. "But only the one's got any life on it that we're sure of. Unless summat lives under the ice on Europa or some such."

[somebodysdog]

The problem is, of course, imagining a sun as tiny as that which orbits the Disc, somehow managing to orbit nine 'planets' and an 'asteroid belt'.

It can't be done.

"Must be bloody small then," Angua comments, and shrugs. "I'm not going to understand it, mind you, so let's not bother. Do you want something to eat?"

[there_is_a_me]

Well, yeah. Bloody weird planetary paradigm differences.

"All right, fair enough," Spoon says amiably. "And I could do with something, yeah." He starts looking over the assembled tins. "Long as we're at it, is there summat around here that'll burn? Bet you the labels'll do for kindling, once we get the cans open."

[somebodysdog]

"Not in here," Angua remarks, still carrying the cold can as she wanders into the living area of the flat, glancing around.

"We could try the furniture, of course, but that's probably not worth it just now."

[there_is_a_me]

Spoon nods, having grabbed a tin of his own. It's got soup in. "Save that for when we need it," he agrees as he follows. "There's stuff in my room that might do, but I dunno if this is wintertime, springtime or what. I'm not about to burn things if it turns out this is high summer gone to Hell."