(Untitled)

[dis_armed]

It's hard to tell anything much about the extremely inconspicuous and not at all sinister person who just walked into the bar, given the large and voluminous hooded cloak that covers essentially every distinguishing factor.

Well, there's one thing -- from the way the new arrival starts and goes warily still upon crossing the threshold, it can

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[alorn_bear]

Yeah, confusion's pretty common in the newcomers around here.

Not so much on the face of the blond guy who looks vaguely like a horse kicked him in the nose a few years ago, though. That's new.

The cloaked figure's got Belar's full attention.

[dis_armed]

Ilena's cloaking her abilities hard -- she always is -- but she lets herself go, just a little, to try and sense what's around her. Other Claymores mean danger. Yoma mean danger, too, although a different kind.

The man who's watching her, though --

Ilena turns around to face him, her stance shifting subtly to make it easier to reach for her weapon, if she has to.

She doesn't know what that is. It's more powerful than anything she's ever encountered, but it doesn't feel like a yoma, not even an Awakened One.

What she does know is that it's clearly interested in her, and running doesn't seem like an option that's likely to turn out well.

[alorn_bear]

Belar clears his throat briefly, doing his best to get his dignity back. "Evening, ma'am," he says. "Or miss."

He could, if he wanted, look straight into the... rather weird figure's heart and see exactly what he was dealing with, understand her intentions and thoughts and everything. His brothers do that all the time. But that, he figures, is rude- and Belar has many failings, but impoliteness is not one of them.

"You look as if you're new here. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Milliways, the bar at the end of the universe."

[dis_armed]

'Welcome?'

'Welcome' is not a word Ilena is used to hearing, let alone 'end of the universe.'

"I am . . . new," she says, cautiously; her low voice sounds a little rusty, as if from disuse. She doesn't lower her hood, not yet. As far as she knows, she's still passing for human.

"I am not clear on how I arrived here."

More information would be appreciated.

[alorn_bear]

"Most people aren't, the first time," Belar says. "It's kind of tricky to explain. Basically, you managed to step into a kind of portal that opens up between realms of existence sometimes. You stepped out of your world and your own time, and into this place and this time. The Bar kind of does that without warning, and I can't honestly say I know anybody who can really say what winds up picking one person or another."

[dis_armed]

A portal that opens up between realms of existence.

Indeed.

"Am I dead?" Ilena asks, bluntly.

If she had imagined an afterlife, it would not look like this.

[alorn_bear]

"No," says Belar, after half an instant's pause to determine whether this is the case or not. "No, you're definitely alive. Some of the people here are dead, but they're only here as a waystation. They'll be going on to wherever it is they're supposed to spend eternity eventually. Most of the patrons are still alive, yourself included."

[dis_armed]

Well. That's -- a relief, she supposes.

Her eyes slip towards the door, and then back -- not that the motion is visible in the shadows of her hood. "Can I return?"

[alorn_bear]

"If you can see the door, yeah, you can," Belar says. "It's easier to come back here again if you take something with the place's name on it and carry it with you. Like that napkin on the table to your right, for example."

[dis_armed]

"I can."

Is that a relief?

She isn't sure. In some ways, it might be -- freeing, not to feel the obligation to return. (And for what? She is doing nothing with her life now, except hiding.)

Ah, well; shelve the question, for now. Information first.

"Are you in authority here?"

What she really wants to ask is what are you?

[alorn_bear]

"My name's Belar, ma'am," says Belar. "I'm the chief of Security here. The person who runs things is Mikey, the Head Barman. Sallie Reynolds is his co-Barman, so she's got authority as well."

There's a pause.

"And I'll do my best to answer any other questions you've got. Goes with the job, you know?"

[dis_armed]

This is all very polite and welcoming of a stranger, and Ilena doesn't trust it. No one on her world is welcoming; there are too many dangers walking abroad. She could be identified as one of them.

Caution wars with the desire for information. After a moment, the need to simply have out with it and know the worst wins out.

Flatly, she says: "You're not human."

[alorn_bear]

"Nope," says Belar, "I'm not. I turned off the aura and the overwhelming sense of presence. People kinda get wigged out if that's the first thing they run into around here. I'm a god- not a supreme god of the universe, that's more like my dad and he's only supreme in our own universe anyway- and back home, my brothers and I created our particular world together."

[dis_armed]

"A god."

Ilena has never been much given to merriment, but she feels right now a strange desire to laugh and laugh and laugh. A new world -- a god --

Humans have a god, but since she was given to the Organization she's never been able to understand why. How could one live in a world like theirs, and believe something benevolent created it?

"And with a god's power, you stay here to greet passersby and play at guardsman."

She doesn't even sound disbelieving, exactly. The universe has clearly decided to stop making sense in any particulars, so why should this?

[alorn_bear]

"We get patrons who're gods or close to it," says Belar. "Somebody's got to make sure the Devourer of Worlds doesn't decide he wants to start eating this one. Somebody has to keep the angel of vengeance and the angel of messages from hurling lightning bolts at each other and incinerating the whole place in the process. Why not me? My Alorns are under my brother's care now, and I'm not the only god my Dorbed people have, so if I come here now and then they're fine with that as long as I answer their prayers."

[dis_armed]

"You answer prayers," Ilena murmurs.

He guards and protects, unasked, and, apparently, levies no fee. She still doesn't trust that all this is so, but one thing she is becoming more and more certain of -- he cannot be of the land she knows.

Still, there's one last test. An impetuous one, to be sure, but today is apparently an impetuous day. To say the least.

"Forgive me my rudeness," she says, abruptly, and reaches up with her one right arm to pull down her hood and reveal the telltale pale hair and silver eyes of a half-yoma. She watches steadily for the twitch of reaction, as she continues, "I think your world must be kinder than the one I've known."