milliways_bar | (no subject)

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...he's sitting in a corner reading a newspaper. Perhaps it's not the most exciting experience the world has ever known, but it's pretty damn lovely for a man who hasn't seen a new bit of print in some years. He's already read the "current events" for whatever world the previous occupant of the booth had been from and now he's on the funnies.

Damn. End of the universe and Dogbert's still a gas.

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See newspaper.

See Naraht.

See Naraht chuckle again as he glides forward to retrieve the paper for Creedy.

"I do seem to get that a lot. Even here."

He holds up the newspaper as if to examine it. "You'd think they'd start printing these things with ink I could see eventually."

"I wouldn't know," he answers slowly. "Just found it in the booth. Not mine, really."

Squint.

"You'd be, uh... Naraht? The rock?"

"Ahhh, you've heard of me," he says, handing it back. "Though since I am the only Horta in Milliways, I'm rather hard to mistake, Mr..."

He nods.

"Quinn told me. I, uh... didn't believe him about the rock, er, you being a rock, that is. Something of a shock."

"Quinn? Are you from his world?"

He holds out a bit of fringe for a handshake.

"Very pleased to meet you. And, don't worry, I know it's a shock. If I hadn't practically grown up around humanoids, I would probably have done the same meeting you."

His carapace bobs a little. "I suppose Quinn told you I had volunteered my services to your people. Your situation seems to be one where a little good tunneling can go a long way."

He nods again.

"I'm Creedy, if he'd mentioned me," and he takes the bit of fringe, "And yes, I am. This place... well, it was a bit of a shock all in all, but not a bad one."

"Indeed. IDIC taken to its absolute extreme," he says dryly. "But I'm very glad you've been able to find the help your people need here. That's one the the theories about why people get brought here, you know. Because they need something from this place or someone here needs them."

"Can't see anyone needing a face full of dragonflame, personally, or me so I'm assuming the former."

He grins to the rock. Er... patron.

"Perhaps," Naraht says, quivering with mild amusement. "But it does pay to keep an open mind about such things. Now...Quinn is the fire chief. What is it you do, Creedy?"

"Muscle. Keep people in line."

Grin.

"Keep Quinn from taking life too seriously too."

A snicker.

"Mother bless! That seems like a full-time job."

Does he mean the muscle or Quinn's reality-check? You decide.

He nods to both.

"You bet. People are a little crazy when things get thin."

"So Starfleet learned a LONG time ago," Naraht says. "There's a damn good reason why the Recreation Officer reports directly to the CMO."

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