PFSB: Milliways

[riddleofthebelow]

Tom needed his camera to take yet more pictures of his adorable children, and when he fetched it the evening before, he found something odd he can't explain. It's not a bad odd thing. It's just a puzzling odd thing.

Ingress has some explaining to do.  Or Wei Wuxian. Either one.

So Tom's at a table at Milliways, with an eyebrow raised, and wouldn't mind some company.

Comments

[hinotfuckingdead]

The door opens and a man enters; he is fairly nondescript, with dark skin and dark hair, in a sort of generic dark military uniform. He wears over it a Sarumanic cloak that looks white at first glance but contains a whole rainbow, and he is wearing a crown of laurels which he checks with the bar almost immediately. He picks up a drink with a friendly tip of the glass to the Bar and scans the room.

His dark eyes fall on Tom, and he cocks a head as if to say, mind company?

[riddleofthebelow]

Tom lifts his scotch in a “not at all” gesture.

The man strikes Tom as curious. He reminds him, strangely, of Lucifer, or maybe Crowley, when they were here and off duty. In any case, he’s not bleeding dark magic, malice, and/or misery and that’s well and good. Tom is actually cheered to have someone closer to his age to chat with.

Of course the man could be hundreds of years old, or thousands, and Tom the youngster.

“Hullo,” he says, once the man is closer to the table. “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

[hinotfuckingdead]

Closer to the table, one curious thing about the man is visible: his eyes are black, wall to wall, with thin white rings that mark the outer edge of the pupil. Other than that he gives every sign of being a rather weary middle-aged man; his face is lined, with a mix of indications of a good sense of humor and indications of an eternity of overwork.

"Don't mind if I do," he says. He could be drinking anything, but in fact it's scotch. "Always thought the great benefit of this place was meeting interesting souls."

[riddleofthebelow]

“Indeed. I hope I may live up to the description of interesting,” Tom says, rising slightly to reach out a hand to shake the other man’s.

“Tom Riddle, Lord Ostium of the House of Arch. Pleased to meet you.”

The black eyes are slightly disconcerting. Didn’t Door mention that Islington’s eyes were all black? Or was that someone else?

[hinotfuckingdead]

"Arch, Arch," the man repeats as he shakes, in the manner of one consulting a memory long archived. "Roma Below, yes? I knew a woman once of that House--Ianua. Delightful lady."

[riddleofthebelow]

Tom is, as they say, gobsmacked.

“You... know of the Underside? Not many do here. I’m of London Below not Roma, but I’ve visited that Undercity a few times.”

[hinotfuckingdead]

"Ah! In Iauana's time, I don't believe Londinium was big enough to rate an Undercity."

"I met her here, a very long time ago. Well, time is relative, but it was a long time ago for me and, it seems, for you as well, and this place has certainly changed, too."

[riddleofthebelow]

Oh, this was a good choice. Tom is intrigued.

“How fascinating. And what may I call you?”

[hinotfuckingdead]

"My name is John Gaius," he says. "Titles are something I prefer to leave back there." He gestures vaguely at the door. "I had forgotten what a relief it can be to go somewhere where nobody knows your name."

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian has been extremely reluctant to leave Lan Zhan for even a moment. They will be in need of more medicine for his fever and wounds, though -- and to Wei Wuxian's chagrin, he realized he needed food as well. There are only so many times he can send his senses through a paper doll before growing dizzy and weak, and if he puts Lan Zhan in the position of caring for him when he is in this state --

Absolutely not.

So he is at the bar, having already retrived the medicine from Ford-daifu (after many more profuse thanks), quietly discussing what he'd like for his meal. "No chili oil this time, I think?"

????? reads the napkin he receives from Madam Bar.

"Just this once! And, ah." He's starting to grin again, an embarrassing, bright, red-cheeked grin. "May I ask you to add Lan Zhan's name to the front of the door?"

!!!!!!!!! is all the next napkin says.

[riddleofthebelow]

Ah, good. Tom taps the picture on the table. He found it on the floor of his study when he fetched his camera. The moving image shows Ingress (in a very skimpy dress!) and Wei Wuxian hanging on each other and laughing, obviously drunk, in what must be a club in London Above. They look like they were having a splendid time.

See, here's the thing.

Tom likes Wei Wuxian. He trusts Ingress. He's not really concerned about any goings on between the two, if that is even the case. He's more worried about Ingress. She's been acting strangely. Visiting without Megwyn, coming to the House without stopping to say hello to him or to Door, drinking...

He knows she's been to the House at least twice now without visiting. Portico told him about seeing his aunt and her friend, Harrow, in the library a couple of days before.

Ingress was in Haven for her teenage years, and if there was a rebellious phase, he didn't see it. She's always been a dedicated student and never complained during her visits home, aside from frustrated mentions about how some in her new home world didn't accept her as fully one of them.

Then there was her first disastrous love affair here at Milliways when she was seventeen (which he handled terribly, he will freely admit). Once she got over her heartbreak, Ingress dove into her Heraldic training. Even though her visits were fewer and farther between as she left her teens, she was her sunshiney self when she did.

Things have seemed fine for the past few years. He's wondering, though, if things aren't fine.

He waves at Wei Wuxian before the younger man can return upstairs. "If you have a moment, I believe I have something of yours."

[acrookedpath]

"Ah! Tom-gongzi, hello."

Still beaming (and slightly flushed), he returns the wave. Madam Bar presents his food in an ornate tiffin box, along with another napkin full of exclamation points and smiley faces; he stuffs the napkins into his robes alongside the medicine and joins Tom at his table.

"What is it you -- ah." That's a touch more sheepish, but only a touch, as he glimpses the photograph in Tom's hand.

[riddleofthebelow]

He slides the picture over to him. "So what's this then?"

Tom is not glowering. But the furrowed brow from being worried might give that impression. Maybe. It's not intentional!

[acrookedpath]

He picks up the photograph for a better look.

...Well. He thinks it's from the last bar they visited, with the performers Ingress called drag queens? Maybe? He also knows if he says as much to Tom with that much uncertainty, it will probably not help matters.

"Ingress and I went to London Above for an evening," he says. "It was nothing untoward, Tom-gongzi. I promise."

[riddleofthebelow]

"I wasn't overly concerned about that, but I appreciate you telling me," he assures Wei Wuxian.

His frown deepens. "It was a surprise, is all. Ingress usually visits us whenever she comes to the House, and she didn't that evening."

And she borrowed his camera without asking, which Tom would have given over to her with no hesitation.

[acrookedpath]

"Ah," he says again. "I cannot really speak to that, I'm afraid. We were both feeling poorly that day for our own reasons, but I did not know she always calls on you when she comes to the inn."

In the photograph, Ingress, her arm slung around Wei Wuxian's shoulders, bends double in silent laughter, almost dragging him down with her. He finds himself smiling as his photographic self bursts out laughing in reply.

[riddleofthebelow]

“Poorly?”

Oh no. It’s just as he feared.

“Wei Wuxian, please, I understand keeping confidences... but did she tell you what was wrong? She’s been acting strangely of late and I’m starting to worry about her. A great deal.”

(No, Tom, you may not use legilimency to peek and find out if Wei Wuxian doesn’t have a verbal answer for you. We’ve had this discussion many times before and you know that’s wrong.)

[we_bring_hell]

Gideon has gone outside to discover a whole new world of ironmongery. Harrow needs to do some research.

She pads down into the Bar, dressed way down; soft pants, black hoodie, sock feet, no gloves. She asks the bar for some supplies and comes away with a card-stock box full of stuff.

When she sees Lord Ostium she raises a hand to wave, with a thoughtful expression.

[riddleofthebelow]

He nods to her in response, gesturing to a seat at the table across from his. “Hello again, Ninth. I see you’ve extended your stay a while longer.”

[we_bring_hell]

She smiles wanly. "Perhaps not for very much longer, but yes."

She takes the seat. "How are you, Lord Ostium? I had the pleasure meeting your heir of House."

For a moment her imagination feeds her the image of Portico abandoned to the killing field of Canaan House; she banishes it immediately.

[riddleofthebelow]

“I’m well,” he says, since aside from being worried over Ingress, this is the truth.

“Portico told me you’d visited with Ingress. You made quite the impression; he hasn’t stopped asking about you.”

His little boy was quite taken by the face make up.

[we_bring_hell]

She inclines her head slightly. "He seemed clever and well-mannered. A credit to your House."

[riddleofthebelow]

“Thank you. I didn’t know you and Ingress had become so well acquainted. She hasn’t brought new friends to the House in many years.”

Tom isn’t aware of just how much Harrow avoids the f word.

[we_bring_hell]

She shrugs. "We have met a time or two. She offered the opportunity for me to visit a living world and to test a theorem I have been developing."

[riddleofthebelow]

"Was the test successful?"