milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Unless your names are Jack or Maddie Fenton, then no," he replied, crossing his arms, "I'm not."

He smiles and bows slightly.

"My apologies, then. At first glance, you look exactly like one of the children from my time."

He tilts his head to the side. "If I may be so bold...what year do you come from?"

"2006," he said. A pause. "What do you mean I look like--I look like everybody else in here."

He squirmed uncomfortably.

Was there something outwardly weird about him now? That would make it harder to hide his secret?

At the mention of the year, the Ranger feels a shock that he is hard-pressed to conceal. Yes, he was prepared for an earlier date, but not that early. Long before humans even started making their homes on other worlds.

"To the outer eyes, yes," the Ranger allows. "But then, to the outer eyes, I am not particularly remarkable myself."

He smiles reassuringly. "Would you care to join me for tea? I must admit my curiosity, but I will attempt to contain it, if you prefer."

Okay, so...outer eyes.

Which meant he had inner eyes?

Danny realized that this guy might have had some way of picking up on things about people like his ghost sense and he relaxed slightly and sat down.

"Okay, I guess," he sat down, now a little curious himself.

He drops one of the nodules into the small, glass pot and covers it with hot water. Then he sits back and looks gently at the young man. Even to the outer eyes, there is something vaguely familiar about him...Ah, yes! In Draco's mind when he assisted in his healing.

But, just the image. No name.

"I suppose I should start by assuring you that I mean no harm to you or any you know. None of my people would, but I am doublely barred by my duties as a Ranger. Many here call me Spero, but, if you would prefer to give me another, I would be honored."

It is the fashion of his people, after all.

"Yeah, but what's your actual name?" Danny asked, confused.

He grins. "They are all my actual name, my friend. True names for they are facets of myself others have seen."

Which probably doesn't help Danny much at all.

No, it didn't.

"Can I call you Captain Enigma?" Danny shot at him, "because I haven't known you long, but I think you've earned that one."

An eyebrow quirks.

Then a corner of his mouth.

Then a full-blown bellylaugh.

"Valen's name, I suppose I deserved that," he says. "Perhaps I should call you Bearach in return, for your words are sharp."

The laughter had put him at ease somewhat, and he even grinned a little.

Grudgingly, he admitted, "My name's Danny, but as long as that isn't a curse word, it's cool." A pause. "And if you're really dead-set on me giving you a name, how about--Loa."

He snorted at his own geekiness, and admitted, "It's name of a comic book character--the Observer."

"Also the name for a god in the ancient Vodoun religion," he counters impishly. "Though I suppose I more closely resemble the one you had in mind if the character is like the one I'm thinking of."

He cocks his bald head to the side and winks. Yes, Marvel comics have been perserved through the destruction of Old Earth, and Watcher is pretty close to Observer.

"Well, you are both bald."

The Ranger gives him a mock scowl.

"Perhaps I should call you Captain Obvious," he retorts. By this time, the tea bud has opened fully, exposing the orange lily inside and turning the water a warm, amber color. The Ranger pours cups for both of them.

"Danny, then. The affectionate form of Dan, meaning 'judge', or Daniel, meaning 'God is my judge'."

He hands Danny a cup. "Which are you?"

An innocent question, but one with two edges.

The question almost made him drop the cup, and he looked away.

Finally, he looked back up, lifted his chin and said:

"I guess...both."

A smile like that of a teacher whose student has grasped a difficult lesson on the first go.

"That is a wise answer," he says, sitting back with his own cup. "For you must be both - at times the one who judges and at times the one who submits to being judged."

There is steel in this boy. Plain to anyone with eyes to see. But how did it develop? Hell, how was a child with such power born on 21st century Earth in the first place?

"I guess." He swallowed. "I'm in more of a position to--I guess to judge--than most people."

A pause.

"Lately, I've been starting to wish I wasn't."

"It is not always the most comfortable of positions," he acknowledges. "At least, it isn't if one has any amount of decency and compassion."

The Ranger has met many who have not. Oh, being in a position to judge is fun for those who lack those things.

But definately not fun for the people they judge.

But why was he telling this guy all this anyway? He had his fair share of strange beings that he trusted, like Clockwork, and Princess Dora, and here in the bar, Foxtrot (who was a paragon of weird, as far as Danny was concerned).

That didn't mean he didn't have a healthy sense of paranoia.

"Look, you seem trustworthy enough, but I'm not exactly going to spout out my life story or talk about...judgment, unless I know more.

Who are you? More importantly, what are you? How did you talk in my head--was that some form of telepathy or somthing?"

He hadn't taken a sip yet from his cup of tea.

Oh, it looked tasty enough, and smelled good, but he'd learned a lesson from Harth Fray--you didn't drink things strangers offered you.

A very health sense of paranoia. The Ranger bows his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Fair enough. As for what I am...I am a human. However, I appear to be the only one from my universe and time who has found their way here."

He paused for a sip. " And, yes, that was telepathy I used when I first noticed you. Again, I am sorry for frightening you, but I did think you were one of my people at first."

"So...uh, is it a normal thing for humans to have telepathy when and where you're from?" he asked.

A quiet nod.

"Yes, it is. Among other things. If you would like to see..."

"See how...?"

His expression was wary.

But it was also curious; wondering.

Divesting himself of his solid body...well, given how he blinded several patrons when he accidentally entered Milliways in that form, it is perhaps not the best of ideas.

Instead, he cups his hand and white light seems to pool inside it, growing steadily brighter.

"Let us just say that we are not just 'this too solid flesh' as Hamlet once depressingly put it."

"No," Danny said, and he looked somewhat amused. "We aren't always all that solid, are we."

Hesitantly, he held out his own hand, cupped, and a little ember of green light flickered there and filled it, just as the white light had pooled in the man's hand.

Then he closed his hand around it and snuffed the light out, before phasing a hand right through the teapot.