(no subject)
Time is occasionally weird between Milliways and other worlds. As far as Whistler's concerned, it's been hardly any time at all since his last visit. Sure, he has to stop just inside the door and listen to the echoes for a while, but that happens EVERY visit. "I gotta say," he announces to no one in particular, "I like what you've done with the place this time. This is pretty nearly optimal."
For sound, anyway. For navigation, not so much, but he expected that, which is why he's got his white cane out as he makes his way through the tables and over to the Bar. At which point the varnish on the Bartop rises and falls in Braille underneath his fingers, and he winces. "Tabs, huh?" he mutters. "Okay, lay it on me- I'll be paying in cash for today, though."
For sound, anyway. For navigation, not so much, but he expected that, which is why he's got his white cane out as he makes his way through the tables and over to the Bar. At which point the varnish on the Bartop rises and falls in Braille underneath his fingers, and he winces. "Tabs, huh?" he mutters. "Okay, lay it on me- I'll be paying in cash for today, though."