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Bell finds the bar when she is eight-almost-nine, in the shed in the back, and she grabs up her seashells - she can reach the bag by the shed door and the one by the back door of the house, her arms are getting longer - and drags them in after her.
She drags them all the way to her room, and locks the door behind her when she lets herself back out, and then she collects a mop from behind the bar and starts earning that room. She's not really sure how it works - so much time passes between visits and yet the room always waits for her. But she supposes that paying people for things in Milliways has to work the way Milliways works. She does an amount of cleaning whenever she's there and this secures her a space to stash her things.
Mop, mop.
she_sells_seashells
she_sells_seashells
"Shorter than me but not by all that much. He probably wasn't whatever kind of demon you have. There's kinds of most things."
blooded_poet
"Kinds of things? I've only ever met one type of demon. If one were here, it would have immediately revealed itself when I did my strange thing earlier, and started to monologue. Fire, brimstone, how I was doomed, and so forth," says Lynn, matter of fact.. "Then I would have killed it."
she_sells_seashells
"Whoever's on Security. I don't know who it is today, probably not anybody I've met."
blooded_poet
"Security. So people work here - do you? You look rather young for that," says Lynn, looking sad.
she_sells_seashells
"I do but I'm not on Security. I just mop and wipe down tables to pay for my room so I don't have to spend shells on it."
she_sells_seashells
"Bar will take any currency! It's great, I can't spend shells at home but I can bring them here."
blooded_poet
"I see. Then why does their value matter to you? I assume you live on a beach, if you have enough to pass as currency," reasons Lynn.
she_sells_seashells
"Well, if I go back for more shells, I lose the door. So I keep bags of them by all the doors in case any one of them turns into Milliways."
blooded_poet
"Ah. That's quite a lot of planning for a bar. It seems innocuous enough," says the woman, then her voice softens, a little. "Are you alright in your home? Or is this simply an interesting adventure?"
she_sells_seashells
"I like to be here as long as I can," shrugs Bell. "Home is sort of okay but we have to eat clams all the time and I'm not old enough to take tesserae."
blooded_poet
"I see. What's 'tessarae,' and why do you have to eat clams all the time?" asks Lynn, concerned. It's something that worries her, just a little. If it were an adult, she would be unlikely to care, but this is a child. They shouldn't have diets restricted like that when they're growing. Perhaps it was a bizarre rule from a parent?
Or, of course, something more unfortunate. But she wouldn't jump to conclusions. Not yet.
Or, of course, something more unfortunate. But she wouldn't jump to conclusions. Not yet.
she_sells_seashells
"I can poach some clams without anybody catching me. Tesserae is when you take extra chances for the Hunger Games and they give you grain and oil but I'm not twelve yet."
blooded_poet
Lynn doesn't need very long to come to a decision. "Ah. Would you like me to buy you a meal while you explain more about your home? To compensate you for the shells lost for work. Or I could just pay you, but I don't know the return value."
Something here seems sinister. Casual poaching that's necessary for survival? That's rather concerning. Tesserae didn't sound like a charity, though maybe it's an actual game and the word 'Hunger' added to it doesn't mean anything bad. She doesn't know yet, but she intends to find out.
Something here seems sinister. Casual poaching that's necessary for survival? That's rather concerning. Tesserae didn't sound like a charity, though maybe it's an actual game and the word 'Hunger' added to it doesn't mean anything bad. She doesn't know yet, but she intends to find out.
she_sells_seashells
"The work isn't for shells, the work is for my room. I can finish mopping and eat with you and then do the tables after, though? I'm almost done," says Shell Bell anxiously.
blooded_poet
"That would be fine," replies the woman. "I'll still get you something to eat, though. Where can I see to that?"
she_sells_seashells
"Bar knows what I like best!" says Shell Bell with a winning smile. "She's a person even though she is also a bar. You can talk to her and she can talk back by writing on napkins."
blooded_poet
Lynn is surprised by the... 'Person and also a bar' comment, but she can cope. She stands, and goes to the bar, feeling somewhat silly.
"Excuse me? Bar? The girl over there says you know what she likes best? I would like to buy her a proper meal," she says.
"Excuse me? Bar? The girl over there says you know what she likes best? I would like to buy her a proper meal," she says.
she_sells_seashells
A napkin appears, while Shell Bell mops her way towards the far corner (still smiling).
Certainly, says the napkin. I will put it on your tab.
Certainly, says the napkin. I will put it on your tab.
blooded_poet
The napkin is a surprise, but she's going to cope with this, too. She's certainly seen weirder things. Probably. So, she says, "Thank you."
Deciding that she should be a Responsible Adult, Lynn does lower her voice and quietly tell Bar, "Please give her something healthy, or well-balanced. I don't mind buying her a dessert with it, but she mentioned she eats quite a lot of clams..."
Lynn trails off. She doesn't know what else to say. And she's a child and I want her to be okay? Best not to say it outloud. She'll just leave it at that.
Deciding that she should be a Responsible Adult, Lynn does lower her voice and quietly tell Bar, "Please give her something healthy, or well-balanced. I don't mind buying her a dessert with it, but she mentioned she eats quite a lot of clams..."
Lynn trails off. She doesn't know what else to say. And she's a child and I want her to be okay? Best not to say it outloud. She'll just leave it at that.
she_sells_seashells
Balance is certainly a primary concern in the properness of a meal intended for her, replies a second napkin agreeably.
blooded_poet
"Thank you," says Lynn again. She turns and goes to sit at her original booth.
She isn't sure how this is supposed to work, but she's going to try and play along. The girl she just bought food for will probably have a good idea of how to retrieve it. If not, then Lynn will ask.
She isn't sure how this is supposed to work, but she's going to try and play along. The girl she just bought food for will probably have a good idea of how to retrieve it. If not, then Lynn will ask.
she_sells_seashells
It only takes another minute for Bell to finish mopping. She puts the mop away, and then she hops up onto a barstool next to her benefactor. "Hi, Bar," she says, breathless with entirely too much anticipation for someone who's getting lunch.
And there appears a meal. Bar has apparently chosen to serve chicken-and-dumplings, some broccoli hiding rather effectively under butter and a snow of shredded cheese, two eggs on toast with avocado and visible frecklings of spices, a large glass of milk, and a brownie, a la mode. Bell is responsible about leaving dessert for last, but digs in with the relish that ought properly to be reserved for the unexpected combination of all holidays ever invented.
And there appears a meal. Bar has apparently chosen to serve chicken-and-dumplings, some broccoli hiding rather effectively under butter and a snow of shredded cheese, two eggs on toast with avocado and visible frecklings of spices, a large glass of milk, and a brownie, a la mode. Bell is responsible about leaving dessert for last, but digs in with the relish that ought properly to be reserved for the unexpected combination of all holidays ever invented.