(Untitled)

[witchoftwominds]

The first thing that alerts Agnes that this is apparently one of those 'special' days in the bar is when she feels a draft across her stomach

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[uncloakndagger]

The man next to her tips his hat back and gives her an appreciative look over his glasses.

"That's ah nice look ya've got there, sheila."

Nearly as frustrating as actually being Sniper was discovering he'd lost any ability to change his accent or voice. And he's stuck on Sniper's.

[witchoftwominds]

"My name's Agnes, not Sheila," she replies, "but thanks. I didn't pick it out, but I'm not complaining."

[uncloakndagger]

"Nah, that's ah term them Aussies use when talkin' 'bout women. No offence meant," Spy replies.

"Ah'm Spy. Don't usually talk, sound, or look like this, though." Unless he wants to. "Izzit a bar thing?"

[witchoftwominds]

Agnes nods. "Definitely a bar thing. I think they call it Hallowe'en. Not something they have on my world, but it's generally harmless."

[waysthingsare]

As it happens, there is a very small boy enjoying a slice of blueberry pie at the bar.

He turns and smiles at her when she comes to the bar. "Hi!"

[witchoftwominds]

"Hello," Agnes says happily in return. She's had a lot of experience with small children as a witch, since she tends to be nicer than Granny Weatherwax and less imposing than Nanny Ogg, so the mothers are quick to call her when their little ones are sick.

[waysthingsare]

"Do you like pie?"

Barty has been faithfully raised to share baked goods with others.

[witchoftwominds]

"I love pie," she replies, pitching her voice up to match the youthful excitement.