milliways_bar | (no subject)

Morphed Power Ranger is nearby. He looks over as he hears the murmuring and says,

"I had a hard time believing it too."

His smile brightens as he turns toward the voice.

"Indeed. We all know that nothing lasts forever. But something inside us resists that knowledge. As a result, we're always suprised...and often offended when we reach an end.

"But at least this end is spectacular. Not with a whimper, but a Bang!"

"But while some people here have reached their end, it is more of a beginning rather than an end."

The helmet bobs with his speech.

"Which is only right," he agrees. "For every beginning springs from an end. One journey ends and another beckons. Even this..." He waves at the panorama outside. "...will begin something new. I wonder what it will be."

He turns back to the young man. "I suppose I should remember my manners at this point. I am very pleased to meet you, sir. What do you wish to be called and what would you like to call me?"

At this point, Sky demorphs and looks to the Ranger. He holds out his hand.

"Sky Tate, SPD Red Ranger, B-Squad."

Suprise for a moment before he reaches out to accept his hand.

"A Ranger...though perhaps not in the sense I am familiar with." A chuckle. "Not unless there has been a drastic change in uniform while I was on my last mission."

Sky shakes his head.

"It might be similar but our full designation are the Space Patrol Delta B-Squad Power Rangers. We're an intergalactic police force."

A nod.

"I suppose you are from one of the other universes people have told me about. The Anla'shok have never recieved that designation. And, although we sometimes fulfill a policing role, our scope is much broader now."

"Anla-whatta? Yeah, it has to be different universes. Not all SPD cadets are rangers however. Only five. It's one of the highest honors that the academy has to offer."

He smirks.

"The top five cadets in the academy. Although right now, it's only four of us. Our former leader left the academy after Gruum's defeat."

(no subject)

leftthecradle.livejournal.com - 2006-01-30 16:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

exspdblue.livejournal.com - 2006-01-30 17:14 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

leftthecradle.livejournal.com - 2006-01-30 17:16 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

exspdblue.livejournal.com - 2006-01-30 17:37 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

leftthecradle.livejournal.com - 2006-01-30 17:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

exspdblue.livejournal.com - 2006-01-30 19:26 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

leftthecradle.livejournal.com - 2006-01-30 20:10 (UTC) - Expand

"In time it would seem so." Another pair of eyes seem to be watching the universe end.

Turning her smile to the new face she extends her hand, "I'm Amanda"

His hand reaches out to clasp hers.

"I'm honored to meet you, Amanda," he says. "What would you wish to call me?"

She takes a seat, "I think a better question is what would you like to be called?" she is one that is rather cavlire with names. It might have something to do with how many she has had over the centuries.

"In one sense, you are correct," he responds. "Names do have power, after all. But giving out a true name can place you at a disadvantage while giving a false one builds a barrier."

He smiles gently. "Recieving a new name is at once safer and more open. But, if you prefer, I can suggest one for you to call me by."

She smiles. Okay she was already smiling but that's just what happens when you are in a good mood. "I think I will call you Saggio" said with an italian accent. This is short for Quello Saggio which means wise one in italian. "I have a feeling that it suits you."

He bows his head briefly.

"Again, I am honored," he says. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you manage to find this fascinating place, Amanda?"

He keeps most of his curiosity buried. There are many people here who are human-but-different. And not just in a sense that they are less developed than humans of his time. Amanda has a strong sense of being different, but it is hardly polite to pry.

"I was opening the door to my flat and found myself in this strange but wonderful place." interesting how less then a week ago that response would have been very different.

"How about yourself?" sitting back. She can tell that there is something different about him then most of the others that she meets that don't want to give their name, though she doesn't yet know how.

"Rather similarly. Although I was going through Ship's airlock after completing my mission."

He chuckles. "At first, I thought Ship was having a little fun with me. But she assures me this is none of her doing."

Make that two new faces. Cue one soldier in civvies (all right, all right, they're olive drab but STILL), with pancakes and tea, on his way to a seat nearby. He glances over at the other unknown curiously. "Hm?"

"Out there," he says in explanation. "I witnessed the death of a world yesterday. Now I watch the end of the rest of it. I wonder what T. S. Eliot would think to know he had it wrong."

Wells looks over at the window for a bit, and considers this. It's been a long time since his last encounter with poetry, really, so it takes him some little while to dredge the lines in question out of his memory. Mostly what he remembers of Eliot is the bit about the hollow men; he's met enough of them in his day...

"Dunno, but if you stick around long enough, maybe he'll turn up. Seems like everyone does, the way the people here talk."

"Wouldn't that be something!" the Ranger says, excitement glittering in his eyes. "We carry the sum total of our race's accomplishments with us. All writers, poets, dreamers and discoverers are with us in spirit. But to actually talk with them over a drink."

His smile is radiant. "That would be beyond incredible!"

Wells blinks; he hadn't thought of this. He is, alas, not the most speculative of men- and his idea of an incredible otherwise-impossible meeting here in the Bar is more along the lines of Richard Sharpe than T. S. Eliot. He recognises enthusiasm when he sees it, though, and smiles. "Suppose it would, at that. Mind if I sit?" He indicates the nearest available chair.

"Please do," the Ranger says. "What would you prefer to be called, sir? And would you like to choose a name for me, or shall I suggest one?"

O-kay, that's a new one on him...

Still, Wells sits himself down and pushes the plate slightly aside for the moment. "Sergeant Wells usually works for me," he says. "I'd find it easier to go on what you offer when it comes to you, though."

"I am honored to meet you, Sergeant Wells," he says politely, restraining a chuckle. These earlier humans are so reluctant about naming. "As for myself, I have a great many posibilities to offer you. In fact, I have recieved two new names since arriving here."

A shrug. "But, at my heart, I am a Ranger. If you wish, you may call me that."