milliways_bar | first entrance.

Entry tags:

first entrance.

So, life has finally started to resemble something that might be referred to as 'normal'. At least ... it's something normal-like, according to Miss Jessica Day. Mizz Day. Jess. The Jess-ster.

It can be noted that Jess is pretty much used to things never really going the way they should, or the way she wishes they could in her head.

(Like the whole thing with her ex, Spencer; and her spontaneously moving in with a bunch of guys - who are honestly the best, so really, no regrets there - because she couldn't stand living with a bunch of models anymore.)

But people are often singing out their feelings in these situations in her head. Sometimes, there's even a random dance number. So maybe it's best that they don't really go the way they do in her head.

In any case, she's standing in the doorway with a slightly rumpled, but still brightly coloured solar system diorama in her arms, eying the new locale with a fair amount of confusion, skepticism and disbelief on her face. Her large-framed glasses slide down her nose.

That is when Saturn decides to come loose from its string, the spray-painted orange and brown foam ball bouncing to the ground and rolling off towards a table.

"Oo-kay. I'm pretty sure this ... isn't supposed to be here."

tiny!tag: jess day, danny williams, darius

[ooc: Aaaaand I'm off for the night! But h'omg this was the best. I'll be tagging all slowtimes and such tomorrow!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He honestly doesn't mean to trip over the planet.

Really, if he's being honest with himself, one thing he would definitely say he hadn't planned for today (today's plans including, but not limited to, not getting shot, inasmuch as that's possible) would be tripping over...what is this, Jupiter?

The way he bends down to pick the little Styrofoam ball up looks painful, because it is painful, because it's frankly difficult to do things like bend down to pick up a spray-painted planet with a torn ACL.

Steven.

"Sorry," he says, handing it to the girl he'd just managed not to walk into. "I think I went a little Godzilla on your solar system, uh...model..."

The last word is a little uncertain, not because he's not sure it's part of a solar system model (obviously), but because he's actually looked around.

"Okay," he says, pointing at the bar in front of them. "This isn't HQ." Turning to her, he steps back, further surprised.

"And you are carrying a model of the solar system. Why are you carrying a model of the solar system?"

Jess accepts the Styrofoam ball with a grateful, if still confused smile.

"Well, it was either that or watch the kids throw planets around willy-nilly after classes," she answers with a slight shrug. "Besides, I worked hard on it!"

Not that any of this is the point.

"So - I guess you're a little lost, too? You're not Nick's friend, are you? Or Winston's?"

He doesn't seem like the kind of guy Schmidt would hang around with (which, honestly, is a huge compliment), so Jess doesn't even bother to mention him.

"I was hoping to be in my apartment right now."

"Nick? Uh, no. No. No Winston, either."

Winston -- he'd love to meet a Winston in Honolulu. That's gotta be worse than a tie, right? "However, ah, lost...? Yes. I think that would probably be an accurate assessment. Not that I normally get lost inside my own office building, mind. I'm generally much better with directions than that. And I think -- I'm not a hundred percent sure, mind, but I do think that there was not normally a bar, here. In this office. Which is normally my office."

He's been staring out at the quietly milling group of people in front of him, but he shakes it off to look back at the girl.

"There aren't normally girls with homemade solar systems there, either. Not that this isn't a delightful addition -- really, I approve altogether -- but it isn't, precisely, what I was expecting."

Licking his lips, he presses them together, and frowns at her, thoughtful.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's not your apartment, either."

That's called detective work.

Edited 2012-06-11 02:15 (UTC)

Jess shakes her head.

"No," she says, frowning. "It's definitely not my apartment. I'm not even sure this is Earth anymore, honestly."

She might have just caught sight of the exploding universe over this guy's shoulder.

"Oh, god. Where are we?"

"Why wouldn't we be on Earth?"

He doesn't even get how they aren't in Honolulu, but that all takes a backseat when he follows her glance and catches sight of the window.

His eyes widen.

"Holy shit."

It's instinctive, moving between a possible threat and an innocent bystander: he doesn't mean to block her off, but if that window goes, then he's damn sure keeping himself between it and her. "Uh," he glances at her, "excuse my language. I mean..."

He holds up his free hand, gestures towards the window. "Really?"

She has to peek over his shoulder again to catch sight of the exploding stars, but she does.

There's something depressingly captivating about it. That's probably kind of a problem.

But she eventually does look away, glancing back to the man.

"Really," she says. "Unless it's a realistic video of an exploding galaxy. Which would probably make more sense anyway? Except for the fact that you were supposed to be somewhere else, and I'm supposed to be somewhere else, and yet somehow we're both here."

So, in conclusion: nothing makes sense.

"While I wouldn't put it past my partner, I really don't think that's the case," he agrees, and ducks his head to pinch the bridge of his nose, wincing.

"Okay. So, just to clarify, this is not Honolulu. Right? Although, actually..."

Lifting his head slowly, he glances back at the door, considering. "That might not be so bad, for the moment. And you're from...where?"

Not the island, that's for sure: she's too fair to be one of the sun-addled, salt-water-addicted island folk.

Actually, now that he's looking at her, she's...pretty cute, in a big-eyed, winsome sort of way that makes him think suddenly and unfortunately of Grace's dolls.

Still, cute.

Jess turns her head to glance back at her door as well.

She must have closed it when she stepped in, though she doesn't exactly remember that either.

Oh, well.

She turns back to Danny and smiles.

"Definitely not Honolulu," Jess answers. "I'm from LA, but this is place can't be in LA either.

"It seems too ..."

Weird?

She gestures to the barspace in general. It occurs to her that the clientele here is really rather varied.

"Actually, it's kind of what I imagine Comic-Con must look like. Only ... more authentic."

It's a nice smile, and he smiles back, half because that's what you do when a pretty girl smiles at you, and half because that's what they tell you to do when you're trying to keep yourself and everyone around you calm. He likes to think it's reassuring, which is pretty much what he likes to think of the rest of himself as well.

She's right in one other way, too, which is that there doesn't seem to be anything particularly worrying going on here, aside from the fact that it isn't where he meant to be.

Still, worse things have happened when he's walked into his office than a bar magically appearing and throwing him next to an attractive young woman.

"It definitely doesn't look like any bar I've ever been to," he agrees, casting a wary glance over the fireplace and the fish swimming there, before turning back to her with a chagrined look.

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry. You know, can I help you with...that?" He's pointing to the diorama. "You seem like your arms are a little full."

- huh?

She glances down at the armful of cardboard and Styrofoam balls, and suddenly remembers that - right.

She's got an armful of cardboard and Styrofoam balls.

Maybe it's this place, maybe it's this guy, maybe it's a combination of
both - but for a moment there, she did, in fact, completely forget that she was holding it.

"Oh!" She laughs. "Uh - yeah, thank you. I guess I was a little distracted. We can put it on that ... empty table over there?"

She gestures with her head towards said table.

"I think that's a good start."

He hold out his free arm, crooked at the elbow, smile flashing into a grin when it gets loaded with bits and pieces of solar system. It's the kind of thing Grace makes at school that he's got carefully stashed away, ready to bring out at a moment's notice in triumph when they're asked for; in the realm of drawings that go stuck on the fridge and mobiles that are hung carefully from the ceiling.

Most of them are in Step-Stan's mansion, of course, but some -- the best ones, he flatters himself -- are displayed in his little apartment.

"These?" he says, gesturing with the cane to the planets he's carrying, "are some nice representations. Really. I think I saw one that looks just like this explode outside like two seconds ago."

Okay, so he's a little rusty at talking to pretty girls, but there's nothing wrong with a few nice words, right? The arts and crafts project gets deposited on the table in question, and he looks around for a second before turning back to her.

"All right. That was good, right? Good stuff. I feel it will really be much easier to figure all this out without you having to worry about somebody stepping on Pluto. By the way, I, ah, apparently suck at introductions, so, hi." He gives a slightly shamefaced, self-effacing wave before offering that same hand to shake. "I'm Danny. Danny Williams. It's been delightful, running into you here in the end result of my nervous breakdown, or in a magical bar. You know, whichever."

Edited 2012-06-12 02:42 (UTC)

"Thank you for looking out for Pluto."

Jess laughs, admittedly charmed.

Danny's got a nice, earnest way about him, and it's easy to talk to him. It's a good thing too, considering the situation she's currently found herself in. If she had to bump into anyone in a bar with exploding stars and planets outside, she's kinda glad it's him.

She takes his hand, grinning.

"Likewise, Danny! I'm Jessica Day, but everyone calls me 'Jess'. It's a little less ... formal that way."

And yes, she did just pull a Sophisticated Person voice when using the word 'formal'.

"Are you okay, by the way?" She gestures to the cane. "You don't really seem like the cane type."

"Well, somebody ought to," he points out, smiling, slipping his hand back into his pocket. It only stays there a second before it comes back out to gesture again, but he hardly seems to notice. "I don't care what they say about it not being a planet. Pluto ought to be able to expect a reasonable amount of safety."

Right about now, Steve would probably be rolling his eyes, or laughing behind his hand, but you know what? Danny doesn't care. This is actually kind of nice, if definitely, definitely weird.

Yeah. Crazy weird, but she's nice, and he grins as he shakes her hand, holding it up in the universal I gotcha sign when she tells him her name. "Jess. I like it. Simple, pretty, easy to remember. Not that you are in any way forgettable. I mean, how often does a guy run into a pretty girl carrying planets into a bar that totally, really, should not exist? Definitely memorable. It's the kind of thing that just sticks."

Taking a breath, he taps the cane on the floor, lifts his eyebrows and turns his palm up to the ceiling. "Ah. This. No, you are entirely right, this isn't a normal look for me. Unfortunately, I seem to have exacerbated an old high school injury, so." He shrugs, lays the cane across his shoulders.

"Just a touch of torn ACL. No big deal."

"Right?"

She spares a glance to poor, neglected Pluto - a planet she added, despite all scientific claims, because kids should learn about the ex-member planet of the Milky Way Galaxy.

"People are just not very aware of how badass Pluto really is, but even still ... it likes to know people care about it," she says.

Steve may roll his eyes and laugh, but Jess is the kind of person who can (and will) take an absurd situation and go with it.

It's more fun that way.

But his compliment does quiet her a little; she's never really sure how to take them, especially when her brain gives her two options: smile (sometimes goofily) ... or make light of it with a joke, or a Kermit the Frog impression.

She decides to opt more for the former than the latter, cheeks turning a little pink in the process.

"Well," she continues, "you could totally make the cane work for you temporarily. It's vaguely Fred Astaire-y.

"Or Doctor House."

"Curmudgeonly I can do," he assures her, tapping his fingers on the head of the cane. "Which is good, because I really don't think I'm that much of a dancer. No drug addictions, though, and I limit my attempts at figuring things out to cases, but I've definitely had worse connections made."

Oh, yeah. Mainly by gang members, or petty crooks, or the kind of dangerous criminals Steve takes so much delight in hunting down.

Or sometimes from Steve himself.

That's true friendship, right there -- or something.

Swinging the cane off his shoulders to settle back on the floor, he looks around, taking in the sights with distinct curiosity.

"So, what do you think? I say we look around a little -- if that's all right by you, of course. I'd do it by myself, but one thing I've learned is that it's never a good idea to check out an unknown place all by yourself."

Not that he thinks he'll need backup here, or that Jess would be an appropriate choice, but two heads are better than one, and four eyes are...better than two?

"I also firmly support the buddy-system," Jess says, nodding.

She may not be of much use in an actual fight (her idea of fighting being to use her words and witty repartee

'Jerkssica? My last name is 'Day' and you go with 'Jerkssica'?

Yep. Her comebacks are undefeated.), but she's a pretty useful distraction!

"Besides," she teases slightly, "I can't leave an injured person all by themselves in another world's bar!"

"That would be hugely irresponsible of you."

She's cute and quick on the draw, and that's more than enough to make this whole crazy thing seems a whole lot easier to deal with, which is nice. Sure, he's on edge and feeling more than a little disoriented, but having another person there means he's got someone to focus on, and that helps even more.

He levels a finger at the bar.

"I say we start over there. Looks promising, wouldn't you say?"

"Uh huh."

She's pretty sure her diorama can be left unattended for a while. It's not quite trashy enough to be confused for garbage, and it's not polished enough that someone might think they could steal it and profit from it.

Yep.

She's good.

"Let's go explore this new frontier! I wish I had my exploration hat right now."

She may or may not be joking about this.

"Hat?"

He leans back a little to look at her again, as if he thinks she might have changed without him noticing. "Good thing you don't. Not that I have anything against hats in general, but I think I might get, you know, jealous. Not having a hat."

They look sort of funny on him, and he tends to avoid them in general, but he likes the idea of hats, in general.

He was a kid once, he's seen Indiana Jones. He knows how the whole 'fedora of exploration' thing works.

"On the other hand, I bet it's worth seeing. Okay. Right this way." Because he's got manners, he gestures for her to take the lead, regardless of the fact that he'll end up walking next to her.

Actually, it's kind of an anticlimactic journey to the bar, and he turns when they get there, squinting across the room.

"You know, I would have put money on some black hole opening up and sucking me back into the office just as I got here," he tells her, leaning his free hand on the bartop. "But this place is persistent in its grip on reality, isn't it?"

Edited 2012-06-13 20:21 (UTC)

She turns, too, fingers brushing along the edge of the mahogany tabletop, thoughtful.

"Well, I definitely think it's got the whole 'my reality is more pressing than yours right now, so just come in and hang out. Maybe have a drink' attitude down, as far as I can see," she says, eyes going towards the general population of the bar.

Most of them look so ... relaxed. Like they've been coming here for years.

"There are doors, too. Maybe this place doesn't have to throw you up. Maybe you just ... walk in and out -"

She is about to continue when a small square-ish napkin appears by Danny's hand, a line or two of black scribbled handwriting on it.

"Believe me, I'm happy to go along with this reality as long as it lasts."

It beats paperwork, that's for sure. Not that he minds cleaning up Steve's paper trail: the guy gets things done when they need them done, and that's good enough for Danny.

Besides, it's not exactly one of his strong points.

Either way, he's watching Jess as she explains her theory, until those wide eyes of hers turn down to the bar, and he turns, too, frowning as he reaches for the paper.

"Was this here before?" He glances at Jess, lifting the napkin, but his eyes are caught by the text there, and his eyebrows ratchet up further as he reads, turning to the side so she can look, too.

WE USE DOORS HERE it says, in friendly, neat printing. WELCOME TO MILLIWAYS. MAY I TAKE YOUR ORDER?

"Uh..."

He looks to one end of the bar, then the other, peering around Jess to try and find a tender. "Sure. I mean, yeah, of course. I just don't see...who am I supposed to order from?"

This time, he actually sees the napkin appear.

Jess intakes a sharp breath.

It's just a little surprising, that's all, these napkins literally materializing out of the woodwork.

Okay, Jess. You can do this. Don't be freaked out.

It's just ...

Just ... well, what is it?

She hesitates before she reaches for the next napkin.

"'Me'," she reads aloud, before glancing from napkin to Danny with a frown drawing her eyebrows closer together. "Me, who?"

Danny peers at the napkin, frowning harder.

"'Me'?" When he looks up at her, he's got no answers, shakes his head as he ducks to examine the bartop, knocking along the gleaming mahogany without finding any traps or sliding panels.

"Where did that come from? It's like the bar is...but that's stupid, right?"

Straightening, he half-turns to her, gesturing with the hand not on the wood.

"I mean, I can't just tell the bar I want a beer, right? That's, that's..."

He looks down at the newest napkin that's appeared.

"...Insanity. Uh, I don't mean to alarm you, but this one says: 'What kind?'"

Jess blinks.

There may be a fair amount of mental keyboard smashing going on in her head right now.

This is so weird, and just verging on the edge of scary. But ... on the flip-side, it's kind of cool.

She glances from the Bar to Danny then to the Bar again, gathering her thoughts and thinking on the positive.

(Because the other option would be to run away screaming, and Jess is really trying not to be that person.)

"Omygod, it's like my childhood dreams are suddenly coming true. Only it's like ... twenty years later. But it's never too late, I guess, to believe in magic."

Because that's the only explanation, right? Magic? Wizardly hocus pocus, and Diana Wynne Jones books come-to-life?

"Ask it," Jess urges him. "Let's just ... see what happens."

Edited 2012-06-16 01:09 (UTC)

"You think I should ask the bar for a beer?"

He looks over at her with uncertainty bordering on skepticism, forehead wrinkling before he shrugs and turns back to the bar, hands running along its surface. "I mean, why not, right? May as well try it. If it can produce notes, there's no reason why it can't create a beer out of thin air, right?"

His fingers drum against the glossy wood.

"All right, I'll bite. Give me a...Flying Fish. Hopfish IPA."

It's the first thing he can think of that can't possibly be found in Hawaii, so would have to prove that this is someplace else, but no one's more surprised than he is when the damn bottle actually appears.

Well, maybe Jess. But he's got to be on at least the same level of surprised.

first entrance.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)