(Untitled)

[uquars_gadget]

Helen's sitting out on the steps of a building in Creem di Leemaa, a good two armspans from the whirling parade. When, occasionally, a brave fool tries to get her to join the dancing she snaps at them. By now most of them have learned their lesson, and keep away

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[toxic_perfume]

The short blonde woman who steps out of the building behind her doesn't stick out nearly as much; her jumpsuit, emerald green shot through with golden threads, is almost as bright as the costumes worn by the locals.

She looks around with a calculating smile, and doesn't spare more than a glance for the girl sitting on the steps at her feet.

[uquars_gadget]

The rat--not a smart one, like the ones at Milliways, but rather one who is sort of dumb and nice--squeeks in panic at the woman's arrival and bolts into a hole under the steps.

Helen turns and glares at her, putting half of her hair behind an ear so that the woman can see it. "Well," she snaps, in strangely accented English. "What do you want?"

She is usually (depending on who you ask) more polite, but she is sick and tired of dealing with the people of Creema di Leema.

[toxic_perfume]

"Oh, I don't know."

The woman looks down at her, and grins recklessly.

"What've you got?"

[uquars_gadget]

Helen raises her eyebrows. The woman doesn't seem like your average person from Creema di Leema.

"I haven't got anything," she is stiffly dignified. "I'm not a merchant. There are shops over there," Helen tilts her head to indicate the other side of the swarming parade-party-street, "though. If you want to get flung around."

A woman in blue with a fox mask on swings towards them and Helen's glare shifts to her. She swings away again.

[toxic_perfume]

"Flung around?"

Shops are not exactly what she's looking for. But where there are shops, there will be people with money.

[uquars_gadget]

Helen gives her a very disbelieving look.

"The dancing. How long have you been here? They're always dancing, and trying to get you to dance with them. It's a real hassle if you want to go anywhere."

[toxic_perfume]

"So it's a nonstop carnival here, then."

That smile's back; one hand rests on her hip, gold-lacquered fingernails tapping thoughtfully.

[uquars_gadget]

"Yes," Helen says, still glaring at the woman suspiciously. "You're not an exile...a Homeward Bounder, are you?"

[toxic_perfume]

"A what?"

It does ring a very faint bell. Something Jamie said, maybe?

[uquars_gadget]

"A Homeward Bounder," Helen repeats, sighing. "Someone who has to wander between the worlds until they find their way home. I guess that means you're just very inobservant, though, if you aren't one."

Um. This is not actually rude, for Helen.

[toxic_perfume]

One blonde eyebrow arches.

"You do know there's more than one way to travel between worlds, don't you?"

[uquars_gadget]

Helen's back stiffens. "Yes, but not in this set of worlds. They control the pathways. I guess Jamie didn't explain anything to you, he never does."

[toxic_perfume]

If she's alarmed by the shrewdness of the guess, or by the implication that there's something significant Jamie didn't tell her, it doesn't show on her face.

She smirks, and leans lightly against the stair railing. "Guess it's up to you to do the explaining, then."

[uquars_gadget]

"Well," Helen starts. "If you're from Milliways I guess you know that there are many different worlds. Maybe not all of them but most of them are controlled by a group of creatures known as Them." Helen clearly hates Them by the contempt in her voice. "They have blocked up the passages in the world except for the Homeward Bounders because They don't want us to cause trouble in Their games. We will, though! Or I will, Jamie is scared of Them."

[toxic_perfume]

The girl knows Milliways. That confirms her guess.

"But they don't scare you." Her tone's speculative, and probably not mocking. Probably.

[uquars_gadget]

"No," Helen agrees. "You can't fight Them if you are scared of Them. They just make me very angry. What world are you from?"