Theodore Baldwin.

First name: Bob
Last name: ...Bob?

Chelsea T. Baldwin

Kate, short for Bob

>>275466
Bob.

"Theodore," you manage to say after a moment. "Theodore B. Baldwin." You pull yourself up, and grab for your luggage. Unfortunate for you, the case opens up, spilling your items everywhere, including your drawings. Cursing to yourself, you bend down and start collecting the papers, and you can't help but notice the man still standing there.

He bends down slowly, and picks up on of your drawings, as you continue to stuff things inside of your suitcase. After a moment, he speaks. "Where're you from, kid?" You look up, and see his eyes flicker across the page. You think his eyes are doing that. It's hard to tell.

"America, sir."

America is only now a budding nation, an experiment by Britain that is still prospering. He looks up from the paper. You try to read his expression, from only his eyes, but it's pretty hard. You give up on trying to do that. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I wanted to meet a certain person," you respond back. The paper the man is holding is the last one you need. "I don't know where they are, exactly, so it might be a bad idea, but I wanted to try." The man nods, and hands you the paper back. You quickly stuff it back into your suitcase, and shut it with a snap.

"Who did you want to meet, exactly," he asks. "I may be able to help." You look up at him again.

"George Thirdson, the famous professor," you say, blinking. "He's, uh, kind of my hero." The man nods, and you think you hear a soft chuckle. The scarf must be kind of thick.

"Yeah, I can help you find him, kid," the man says after a moment. "I happen to be a good friend of his." You smile. This is almost to good to be true!

"If it isn't too much trouble, of course! Thank you, sir!" The man flicks his hands to the front of the airport, and starts off. You quickly follow him, swerving through the people, and managing to not hit anybody this time.

Outside, the man steps into a car, and you get inside the back. "So, where does the professor live?"

"Not too far from here," the man looks at you in the rearview mirror. "Hey, you don't mind us taking a detour to the bar, do you?"

What do you say?

Say "I don't mind, in fact, I'd love a tall glass of beer right now."

>>275739
Cans it be roofie and kidnapping tiem naos?

But, hey. You're already in the guy's car, so if this is a kidnapping in progress, might as well get thoroughly liquored up first.

"I don't really mind," you respond, shifting in your seat. "As long as I get where I'm going." The man nods, and starts the steam car. The car lurches forward, and rolls down the street. These things make you sick, but you can withstand it, at least, you think you can. As you're driving, you see the sky flash green again, but this time from much closer. You think it might've been coming from the castle.

"Does the castle use fairies for the atmosphere?" The man laughs.

"Kid, let me tell you something, the Queen? She's not what you think she is," you look up at the man, confused. "You can ask your proessor friend about that." The conversation ends at that point. The awkward silence drifts along for the rest of the ride. You feel the car bounce everytime there's an uneven bump in the road, and your stomach lurches. You're definitely not doing well. You hope the ride ends. You lean against the car's door.

More bumping. You let out a soft groan. You hope the ride ends soon.
...
Unfortunately, it doesn't end soon enough. By the time the car stops in front of the bar, and stumble out, green faced. The man points to the alley, and you quickly stumble in the direction, and kneel behind a trash can. After you're done, you walk slowly back to the man, who chuckles, before stepping into the bar.

After a moments hesitation, you follow, and are immediately assaulted by the smell of strong liquor and sweat. Some form of music drafts through the bar's main room, and you can see in the corner of the room three ELVES, dressed in ragged, stitched together clothing, dark green in color. Their hair colors are exotic, different shades of purple and blue. They hold odd instruments in their hands, and play them, and you realize they are the source of the music. The bar's walls are made of dark brown wood, and even then, you can still see stains you can probably live without knowing the origin of.

Different patrons are walking through the bar, carrying mugs of different kinds of beer. You can see a DWARF and a bald man, wearing a dirty shirt, arm wrestling at a table far away. The bald man's arm is made of a gold color metal, and you can see multiple gears rotating, but despite this, the dwarf seems to be holding his own. The man quickly moves to a rough stool in front of the main bar, where the bartender, stands, cleaning a glass. He has a few strands of black hair over his head, but is otherwise bald. He wears a black vest with a red bowtie, and a white button up shirt underneath. His left eye is made of a cold, gray metal, with a bright blue orb acting as the main part. You notice a thin strand of steam floating from behind the bartender's head.

You let out a breath. What do you do first?

Tip the Elves so they well play a tune for you and challenge the Dwarf at arm wrestling, or just get drunk.

>>279066
Go sit next to your strange new man acquaintance and order a drink. Something preferably in the mid-quality area. Don't wanna burn all that money on the premium stuff, yet you don't wanna be drinking any piss water.

And keep your eyes on your drink as much as possible. This'll make it hard for anyone (other than the bartender) to slip anything into it.