nothing suits her like a suit (number one)

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

[The first thing Arthur does is, very casually, rest her hand against her jacket pocket she ought to have a Glock hidden in. It’s not there, of course, because she doesn’t carry weapons that obvious in reality unless on a job, and this isn’t a dream. She doesn’t even bother with her die, because this is so obviously not reality that there’s not even a point.

Luckily for Arthur, though, she’s a woman who does her research, and it doesn’t take her very much casual strolling before she happens upon the kiosk, which helpfully informs her... nonsensical things. This is not exactly an average dream, and in one heart-stopping moment she realizes this might very well be her limbo.] Fuck. [Though, admittedly, she has a strange sort of creativity and elegance to her design. Unless it's someone else's limbo? Oh god, she can’t even remember what she was doing when she landed down here. This is, to understate enormously, very not good.

Tl;dr there’s a woman in an incredibly gorgeous suit looking like she’s just died.]

Comments

[everdistant_utopia]

[It was one of those days when Saber found herself back on the Plane for some reason. She tried not to think of it too often, lest she find herself there again; after all, she had a wish to fulfil. But on occasion, she thought of things like the excellent meal she had at the onsen and would find herself back on the Plane. However, she had to admit that if she was treated to more of such meals, she had little reason to complain.

But today, there was no meal; merely a woman she had never seen before. And her expression looked to be the same that most had when they first arrived. It couldn't hurt to be helpful, she decided.

For her part, the tiny blonde might have appeared to be a pretty young boy; she wore a tailored three-piece suit, and her pale hair tied back in a low ponytail and her face was composed in a neutral expression.]

May I assist you?

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

I do seem to be a little lost.

[everdistant_utopia]

The Plane is quite confusing, admittedly. That is currently where we are. It is a realm that appears to overlap many different worlds.

[Her posture -- if rather stiff and formal -- doesn't appear to be readying for a fight.]

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

What's it called?

[everdistant_utopia]

To the best of my knowledge, it is simply called the Plane.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Descriptive.

[everdistant_utopia]

Indeed. I had asked if it is a specific plane of existence when I first arrived, only to be told that was the only name others had for it.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

I don't suppose it's ever been referred to as 'limbo'?

[everdistant_utopia]

Perhaps it has been. I myself believed this plane to be Askasha until others from my own world explained that it is not. However, it does not appear to be anything that exists in our respective worlds.

[collector]

[If Braxiatel were a woman, this is how he would dress. The language is a bit surprising, though.]

Something the matter?

[It is said with such blandness that it can't be anything but ironic.]

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

It looks that way.

[collector]

[He gives her an amused smile.] Anything I can help with?

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

How long have you been here?

[collector]

[He pulls out a pocket watch and looks at the time] It has been fifteen minuets since I last went home. [putting the watch away] And it has been closer to a year since I have been able to access this place.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

From where?

Brax loves doing minuets

[collector]

[He pretends not to notice] From a small planetoid in the Vega system designated KS-159. Informally, the Braxiatel Collection.

I /thought/ so. I saw that comment and went, ahah!

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Yours?

[semantating.livejournal.com]

[ And then there was a clown. Or, rather, a very clownish man. He is carrying a cane and wearing something of a rather... elaborate Victorian-era looking outfit with long, floppy sleeves, and seems to have a... doll on his shoulder of some sort? His approach is fairly silent, until he peeks over Arthur's shoulder in the most invasive and annoying fashion possible before slightly distancing himself. ]

My, I should hope you weren't expecting it to answer you, Miss. That would be most concerning, and I am rather sure it would be quite offended if it did, in fact, choose to respond were it able to.

[ In reference to the kiosk, of course. ]

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Not exactly, but sometimes it's good to get it out.

[semantating.livejournal.com]

My, out over in? And do you prefer up over down, or down over up?

[ He taps his cane on the floor a bit, as if to make a point. ] The floor IS here, rather, though it really is always in a rush to meet you should you find yourself going in the other direction. It is rather eager to please, you could say.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

I think we've lost the conversation topic.

[semantating.livejournal.com]

Oh dear, already? Perhaps you ought to look for it then, since you have lost it so quickly, Miss!

[ And he just smiles. THIS IS WHAT HE DOES. ]

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Maybe I'll do that.

[semantating.livejournal.com]

[ No, it's just one very mad Hatter, I'm afraid. Without the hat. ]

Well, when you find it, do tell me! I suspect you'd like to know about the Plane? You'll find the information to be rather less than informative, I'm afraid.

[ And he just gives her a smile. He's found out quite a bit since his arrival, he thinks. ]

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Sure, why not?