[
pre-Milliways]
...in a strange drinking establishment.
There are chairs and tables and a bar and patrons of all varieties.
Robbie, himself, is dressed in his typical clothing style - mostly very different from everyone he can see.
He recognizes that the place is a bar or tavern, but he doesn't think it's from 1892.
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Raven peers at him from a nearby table.
"It is odd, I think, without the makeup."
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He's affronted at that assumption.
"I, sir, am a magician."
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"It is the kind with doves, or the kind with explosions?"
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Fiyero's clothing is plain, but most people don't get past the diamonds. He quirks a brow at Rupert from the spot where he's sitting at the bar, nursing a beer very slowly.
"Evening."
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"Evening," he says with the tiniest hint of a stammer. "Are you a circus performer?"
That is typically where one would see someone with so many tattoos.
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"Certainly not." He sets his beer down and stands after a moment. "I am Fiyero, Prince of the Arjiki - and a fool though I may act at times, it is not my profession."
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It is impolite to point, but he does wave a finger at the blue diamond designs on the man's face.
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"Nice ensemble," she remarks, glancing over the stranger's clothes with a smile. "Very classic."
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"I beg your pardon?" It's not the height of fashion, but neither is it out-dated.
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"Your clothes," she says, speaking slowly and distinctly. "They are nice.. If a little old-fashioned."
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