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** Enter Bard from Guest Rooms, 19**

*Bard strides purposefully to the door. He selects his key from the board, opens the door and exits to his own time*

**Exit Bard to Chicago Metropolitan Area**

** Enter Van der Mullen **

*Van der Mullen fades in with the sharp CLACK of his can resonating through the bar. He looks around, notes that once again he is in the throes of madness, sighs, and resigns himself to lunacy*

You there, Girl. *he points at Clare with his cane* Would you be so kind as to pour me some of whatever you're having?

* Van der Mullen starts at the sound of Malazar's voice. He whirls, very nearly striking the man in the head with his cane. He stops himself short, reasoning that just because he's demented, he ought not be violent. He brings the cane down with a sharp CLACK. Clearly his dementia's taste in characters has not improved *

You've got some gall, even for a figment of my imagination. You may address me as Doctor Van der Mullen, or simply Doctor. Or better yet, don't address me at all.

*With that, he strides toward the bar, intent on finding some brandy*

*Quirking a brow, Clare opened an eye just enough that a silver crescent could be seen peaking out from under a fan of lashes. Sighing heavily, she picked the glass up, the steam balanced between her fingertips. She had herd the gentlemen the first time, she just wasn't some fragile little girl stationed there for the sole purpose of serving. Yawning she mumbled over her arm, then slumped back to the table.*
"Ah..see your legs do work after all, and notably I'm sure your hand will as well, as far as filling a glass."

"Young u..! Oh, right. I forget this sometimes."

Malazar frowns at his arm and brushes his hand over it. He sighs irritably and muses to himself for a moment before responding.

"Things are so much easier when life hides behind a mask. I realize now why you speak so, you are one from a world and time where people are judged on outwards appearances instead of merit of deed and ideal. You have my pity."

He sounds genuinely sorry for you, not patronizing in the slightest... well, maybe a bit. Everything aside, he grabs a half full bottle of amber liquid off the bartop and joins Van at his table. Whether he likes it or not.

"This is obviously not your first time at the Brink, you're too familiar with it's functions. However, just as clearly you believe us to be delusions of your own mind, I assure you that we are not."

Malazar removes a thin glass from an inner coat pocket and fills it.

"So, Doctor, if we are at an impasse, enlighten me as to why you believe we are 'figments of your imagination.'"

"And I offer mine own apologies, for my reactions in this matter. It is... hard to forget almost a century of mannerisms in less than a year. I too, am a student of science, and I believe that no matter how much we can explain in this world we will always find something new in the most mundane of places... My people once believed as you do, that science could disprove the supernatural. Believed it to the point where some in the Heartlands stopped believing that we of the Outlands were really holding back the Others. Stopped believeing that the Other's even existed. That belief has destroyed the supernatural in many worlds, and may have as well in mine if it hadn't been for the very nature of the planet we live on. Perhaps that is why on every other world I have visited, we are still....."

Malazar takes a sip out of his glass.

"Tell me, have you ever heard of the E.m. Equations?"

((Dammit! I want to continue this but its almost 10 and I have to go to sleep for school tomorrow. Van, we MUST continue this conversation. ^_^))

Malazar shakes his head quickly, trying to disspell Van's discomfort.

"No worries, I didn't really expect you to. One could only hope... But no, let me explain."

Malazar drains his glass and pours himself another.

"I would hope you know of Einstein, and E=MC^2, the equation of energy. Let me digress for that for a moment, I would assume that your world, like many others, has myths and legends about the existance of the supernatural and magic itself. The entire affair of which I speak occurred in the laboratories of the most staunch realist of my world, one Inglin Hawmser. It started simply as an expansion of abnormal data one of his evaluation devices on the Frontier detected, what resulted was the 157 pages of the first E.m. Equation. Imagine, if you will, that at the end of a long and adorous mathimatical and entirely logical experiment conducted by the most rational man of an age these abnormal readings were reproduced in a laboratory as the creation and disapation of short term energy materialized from sample of dirt with no way of processing it on their own. Dr. Hawmser, in effect, channeled earth mana into a burst of magical energy through a scientific process."

Malazar shivers for a moment, eyes drifting as if he was remembering that day.

"76 years ago this happened, on a world where dragons, vampires, and even fairies still exist. A world nearly five times the size of what is commonly know as Earth that is constantly wracked by never ending war. On my world, science hasn't disproved the supernatural, it has proved its existance beyond a reasonable doubt."

*Van der Mullen listens to Malazar's story with growing derision. He's about to open his mouth when he hears the crash behind him.* What in... what in the name of Fermat is that???

*He stands up and walks briskly over to the car, scrutinizing it carefully*