(Untitled)

[rogue_annja]

If you were sitting close to the door tonight, it's possible that you'd hear the commotion suddenly just audible from behind it

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[runmakitarun]

No matter how peaceful Milliways may be, some reflexes never really go away. The sound of gunfire has Makita up and out of her usual booth and kicking over a table to take cover behind before she even realizes what set her into motion.

Then the door closes, and there's no bullets, so she peaks up over the edge of the table, pistol ready just in case.

[rogue_annja]

Reflexes are wonderful things, aren't they? They're the only reason this woman didn't drop her gun during what was apparently a good fall. She's scraped and bruised, and now streaked with dirt.

She scrabbles on the floor for the set of car keys, then stares at the walls of Milliways, speechless.

[runmakitarun]

Makita spots the gun and ducks down behind her table again. "No shooting," she calls out as her hands tighten around her gun.

What? Sometimes people don't find unknown voices telling them not to shoot very reassuring.

[rogue_annja]

Good call, Makita. Annja spins to face the voice, rising up on her knees and pointing her gun. "Arrêt-"

She cuts herself off and pauses. She is possibly hallucinating and has no cover.

"I won't shoot if you won't."

[runmakitarun]

"Deal," Makita calls. Then she clears her pistol, puts the safety on, and tosses it over the table into the open.

And quietly draws her backup behind cover as she pokes her head up over for another look.

[rogue_annja]

Annja safeties her pistol as well, sticking it in the waistband of her pants. She brushes leaves out of her hair.

She looks around.

Seriously, what the hell.

"What is this?"

[runmakitarun]

Makita stands up, careful to stay turned so her pistol is out of sight. "Milliways." Her accent is thick and vaguely eastern European.

She rolls her eyes at herself. "But I suppose that's not a useful answer."

"C'mon," she jerks her head at the bar, "let's get a seat and a drink."

[rogue_annja]

"A drink? I shouldn't-" She looks at the door, the mess she left on the floor, and Makita.

"All right. Lead on."

[runmakitarun]

Makita's very small, but she moves with confidence. "Trust me. You'll need it."

"Because this? Is weird."

[rogue_annja]

"I'm beginning to see that." Did that person have blue hair? Annja slides her way through the crowd, glancing around cautiously.

"Who are you?"

[runmakitarun]

"Makita," she tosses without looking over her shoulder. She hops up onto a bar stool and taps the bar's surface lightly.

She watches out of the corner of her eye, wondering how the newcomer will react when two glasses simply appear there.

[rogue_annja]

Her eyebrows raise up like professional mountain climbers, but she doesn't comment, yet. Magically appearing alcohol makes as much sense as anything here, so far.

She waits for Makita to drink first.

[runmakitarun]

For a girl who looks like she might maybe be fifteen, Makita knocks back the glance of what is obviously alcohol like a pro.

"Drink," she suggests. "Trust me."

[rogue_annja]

"Don't take it personally," Annja says, "but I don't trust most people." She picks up the shot glass and sniffs it, then takes a small sip.

Vodka. She waits a moment, just to be sure.

[runmakitarun]

Oddly this draws a genuine grin from Makita. "Good policy. Less likely to get killed that way."

She sets her backup pistol on the bar. "Though from the sound of it you ended up trusting someone you shouldn't have." Her head jerks toward the door.

[rogue_annja]

And oddly enough, this reassures Annja to a certain extent. "I didn't have much choice. Sometimes picking the lesser evil is the only choice."

She notes the pistol. "But I'll take anywhere that no one is shooting at me over where someone is."