Anybody home?

[mynameismarlowe]

On the way downtown I stopped at a bar and had a couple of double Scotches. They didn’t do me any good. All they did was make me think of Silver-Wig, and I never saw her again. I stared listlessly into the empty shot glass but I didn’t find any answers. I wasn’t disappointed. I leaned back in the uncomfortable stool, and beat a tattoo on the edge

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[agirlnamedchuck]

"I don't think anyone actually lives here."

This fact was actually true, and the girl named Chuck meant it as she said it, despite saying it in the quirky and observant way that those who are making a sweet observation are prone to doing. Tapping her red peep toed shoe on the floor she looked around the Hub, which she was in the middle of wandering through rather than actually being in. None of this stopped her from smiling at the stranger though.

"Unless you meant a broader definition of here, then yes, people are probably home."

[mynameismarlowe]

The voice startled me. I hadn't expected an answer. I twisted around in the spindly stool so that I could appraise my unexpected company. It was a woman. She was small and delicately put together. Her eyes were the sort of green that you could notice from across the room. Her hair fell in auburn waves around her shoulders. One look told me that she would be better company than my jacket.

I tilted my head to the side and said: "Let's say I meant the broader definition."

[agirlnamedchuck]

"Then you're right on the money. In a roundabout kind of unfamiliar way."

Chuck wasn't certain how many people actually would call this place home, but for a girl who had found herself moved from one snowy roof to another, she assumed that it if home was where you laid your head at night, then home she was. If it was where your heart was, then that was another story all together.

She moved closer, changing her path just as easily as changed the honey filled jars in her hand. "You're new, aren't you? Well, not new as in just born, but new as in not from around here."

[mynameismarlowe]

She had an interesting way of talking. It was a happy coincidence since I had happened to be interested in what she had to say. I nodded slowly and I eased away the slightly pinched look of confusion that I had been wearing since I had turned around. I figured it was no longer the fashion.

"That depends," I said. "What is around here?"

[making_choices]

Tony hadn't been home precisely. He'd been heading up to the compound, but had happened to look into the Hub, mostly to see if anyone he knew was around.

This guy, well, he might have qualified as someone Tony recognized, but knew? Hell no. Still, he figured walking up to him and asking for his autograph would be a bit not cool, and knowing this place, just cause the guy looked liked Michael Buble didn't mean he was.

"They don't keep the booze in here," he added helpfully from the door. "In case you were looking for a drink."

[mynameismarlowe]

I kept my composure this round but I figured there was time for lost heads still. From what I had gathered from the girl named Chuck, this place was fond of lost heads. I intended to keep mine firmly screwed on. I looked up from my blank stare and turned to face the guy at the entrance. He was tall and handsome. He could have been an actor in another life. His hair was the dull kind of brown that was hardly worth mentioning and his complexion was ruddy.

"It strikes me as funny that a bar doesn't keep its own drinks," I said.

[making_choices]

Yep, it was Michael Buble in the Hub. Tony fought hard to not show his surprise, leaning casually against a post. "Yeah, well, it's close tot he school and there isn't really a way to lock it up. I think they just bring it up for special occasions."

At least I didn't ask him to sing anything.

[mynameismarlowe]

"And I take it that arriving out of thin air no longer counts as special," I replied. I wasn't surprised. That was the way it always worked. Once something has happened enough times, the thin veneer of novelty is chipped away until there's nothing left but the coarseness of tired wood.

[neptune_sleuth]

Veronica Mars didn't yet want to go indoors. It was early hours yet, but the heat was sufficient to drive her into the shade. Adjusting the strap of her messenger bag, she stepped into the hub, one hand into her pocket, the other on her bag. She had no interest in drinks, but the man sitting there -- now him, she had a mild interest in, if only because he was new. She could spot them now -- often something in the way the new ones carried themselves or the slight strain in their expressions, though that wasn't the case with this one. She just knew she hadn't seen him before, that was all. This one looked like he was doing just fine with the change.

"Where were you before this?" Guessing their newness was a parlor trick at best, but it passed the time.

[mynameismarlowe]

She wore a sleeveless green top that had a cute little bow around her cute little waist. This would be a recurring theme. Her denim trousers were of a cut that I was previously unfamiliar with. I was glad to make their acquaintance. She was petite and lithe and her long blonde hair was pulled away from her face. I was glad because it was a nice face. She had a strong jaw and a pouting mouth. Her question made me think she would be trouble.

I said: "I didn't realize I was being interrogated."

[neptune_sleuth]

"No interrogation," Veronica said, shrugging. "Just curious."

Sure, curiosity killed the cat, but they say satisfaction brought her back, you know. I'm hoping, though, that this time curiosity'll just kill time.

She walked a little closer, hands clasped behind her back, considering him. "Why?" she asked slowly, blinking in mock-innocence. "Should you be being interrogated?"

[mynameismarlowe]

I would get to know that look. It was the look of the Devil wrapped in a cute little bow.

I leaned back against the bar and propped my elbows up on the edge and extended a leg in front of me to keep my balance. It was quite the adventure. "Not that I'm aware of," I said.

[the_lure]

It's a look that works best for the character, the little black dress, string of pearls, and stiletto heels, and with the persona switch coming so soon, Stacie can't help but think she ought to take advantage of it while she still can. That -- the need for last appearances, as it were -- is what has her wandering by the Hub come mid-afternoon, rather than back at the hut with Danny and Ash

[mynameismarlowe]

The woman was a real head turner and so I turned my head accordingly. I was in a new place. I had to follow the rules until I knew enough to bend them. She had long dark hair and an unusual but appealing beauty. Her little black dress revealed legs that ended somewhere around her neck and her neck was notable all on its own. Her accent was foreign to me but that didn't count for much here. The whole damn place was foreign to me.

I said: "Who would I go about asking?"

[the_lure]

Hands folded carefully on the counter, Stacie shrugs, glancing at him from over her shoulder. "You know, I've been here four months, and I haven't yet figured out the staff's names," she admits, with something of a self-deprecating laugh. She knows them all, actually, first and last names. "You're new, aren't you?"

[mynameismarlowe]

I started to wonder if someone had placed a sign on my back without my noticing. It wouldn't have been hard to do. My keen powers of observation had taken a holiday. Someone had replaced an entire bar and I had been none the wiser.

"Very," I replied. "How did you guess?"

[persian_sass]

Sasan was so thoroughly sick of not recognizing people, when he spotted Michael Bublé sitting at the bar of the Hub, he had to do something about it. And sure, with the way this place worked, he could be any random weirdo, but even if he wound up talking to the guy's face and not the guy himself, he looked forward to the familiarity.

Sidling up slowly, he grabbed a stool next to the guy and sat down at the bar. Affixing his best cocky grin, he turned his head. "Hi."

[mynameismarlowe]

I had lit a cigarette in the time it had taken my latest guest to sit down. I had been warned that tobacco was in limited supply but I never cared much for warnings. I exhaled a lungful of smoke before I turned to face the man. He was tall, dark, and handsome. I would later come to the conclusion that half of the population could fit the very same description. His teeth flashed white in the fading light and I returned the favor.

"Hello," I said.

[persian_sass]

"I haven't seen you around here yet," Sasan said easily, not that it meant much of anything. He wasn't particularly observant and he was sure there were plenty of people stuck here for years that he hadn't seen around yet. "You new, or have I just been missing out? I'm Sasan," he added, reaching a hand out.

[mynameismarlowe]

I could sympathize because I had never seen him either. My cigarette exchanged hands and then I offered Sasan the hand traditionally used for shaking. I hoped the tradition held.

"Marlowe," I said. "Philip Marlowe. I'm about as new as they come."