(Untitled)

[flip_the_lights]

The scrape of a key sounds from the other side of Milliways' front door. A click later, the knob turns to escort a tall blonde woman into the room

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[veryvorkosigan]

There's an older woman at a table nearby, with silver-streaked red hair done up in a complicated knot on the back of her head; she's wearing a long dress and bolero jacket in beige, embroidered with copper and silver that match her hair.

She glances up from the small device she's studying, and offers Olivia a smile.

[flip_the_lights]

She catches the look and smile both. The former she returns; the latter, she doesn't just yet.

Olivia does, however, venture a few more measured paces into the bar. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

[veryvorkosigan]

"Yes?" Pleasantly.

(Ma'am. Oh it's been a while since she's heard that one.)

[flip_the_lights]

She ventures closer. "Could you tell me where I am?"

Not what happened to my apartment or how did I get here. The former's irrelevant; depending on the answer she receives, the latter might be as well.

[faithful_lt]

He's sitting at the bar, absently tracing the woodgrain with the tip of his finger as he lingers over a cup of coffee, when the absolute stillness of the woman at the door draws his attention.

"Hi," Hoshi says, turning to face her and offering a quick, easy smile.

[flip_the_lights]

The stillness breaks, but not for long: only as long as it takes to turn the same look on Hoshi, and take in the entirety of his appearance in one second.

(The bearing and uniform together -- clearly military, but it's not a uniform she recognizes. Which could mean any number of things.)

"Hi," she says at last. Even her voice is guarded; her hand doesn't move from her gun.

[faithful_lt]

"I apologize if I'm jumping to conclusions, but... you look a little surprised to be here," he says.

[flip_the_lights]

The tight smile she offers in return has no amusement to it. "You could say that. Could you tell me where 'here' is?"

She speaks like one accustomed to having questions answered, a casual authority that rides atop the wariness with ease.

[itwasjustified]

Raylan's at a nearby table, facing the door out of habit. He's settled with a glass of bourbon and a stack of paperwork, keeping a benign tally of the comers and goers in his lizard brain.

When she crosses the threshold, he glances up from his latest report; his eyes stray to her hip, and back to her face.

His smile is small, but it's genuine, and he tips his head in her direction.

[flip_the_lights]

Her smile, meanwhile...doesn't exist.

She does return the nod, though, deciding acknowledgment is the better option in an unfamiliar environment. Warily, Olivia moves a few more steps away from the door.

(Not far enough to make retreat a difficulty.)

[itwasjustified]

He'd recognize this particular brand of discomfort at a hundred paces. The first time is hardly ever an easy one.

He puts down his pen, and tips back his Stetson, all the better to make eye contact.

"I can explain," he says, mild and amicable, "if you have a few minutes, and don't mind the company."

[flip_the_lights]

She tilts her head. There, now: a flicker of a smile, closer to a twitch for all the warmth it shows.

But her own voice is friendly enough as she says, "I'd appreciate that a lot, sir."

[immortal_now]

Amanda's on her way out when she notices the woman enter. Not certain if this is her first time or if she is for some reason disappointed to find herself here.

"Is it really that bad?" she inquires in a friendly tone.

[flip_the_lights]

"I'm sorry?"

Olivia's sharp gaze cuts over to the other woman.

[immortal_now]

Amanda stays patient, "Milliways, do you find it to be so bad? Or are you new?", she gestures around the Bar.

[flip_the_lights]

She doesn't answer either question. Not quite.

But the answer she does give is clear enough: evenly, and in a tone that brooks no argument, Olivia says, "If you could tell me where I am, ma'am, I would appreciate it."