Ian Chesterton, Pandimensional Bar

[mm_jez]

Ian's still a bit perplexed and irritated whenever he finds himself here--it's not as though life on the TARDIS isn't strange enough already.

But whatever else can be said about this place, the service is good. The Doctor's machine for producing food on the TARDIS may be ingenious, but Ian finds himself missing actual food often enough that he's

Comments

[forge_fire]

A man settles at the bar beside him, tapping the counter silently as a small bowl of olives and cheese pop up beside a loaf of bread. Wine appears a moment later and he smiles, his hand smoothing across the wood. His cane is placed against the counter.

[mm_jez]

Ian gives him a polite, friendly nod.

"Good afternoon."

His watch says it's afternoon, anyway. Time's sort of an arbitrary concept these days.

[forge_fire]

He nods his head. He's not a big talker, this one.

He looks at the sandwiches, then at his bowl, and finally pushes the bowl towards Ian in blatant invitation. He also gives a smile, in case he might be confused.

[mm_jez]

The gesture's pretty clear. Ian smiles, and slides the plate of sandwiches closer to the other man before taking a few olives.

"Thank you."

[noattachments]

A young brunette plops down on a nearby barstool and orders a rather unhealthy meal of a cheeseburger, french fries and soda. She eyes Ian's plate, smiling.

[mm_jez]

Ian looks over, and smiles, giving a polite nod. "Good afternoon."

[noattachments]

"Hey," she says. "New around here?"

[mm_jez]

Ian nods. "Fairly, yes. I've been in once or twice before."