milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Hiro has -- made himself comfortable. Sure, by doing so he fell asleep in a boothe, but-- still. The guy's had a long (confusing, squee-filled) day. Still, he woke up to the bustling of bar and began to stumble about, realizing:

He has only the vaguest idea of where he is.
He has no idea how to leave, because he can't seem to find a door out that doesn't lead to SCOTLAND, or it's equivalent.
He needs a shower.
He's famished and this place has the best waffles on God's green earth-- or, well, the multiverse.

He's decided to pursue problem 4 -- one and two will sort themselves out but waffles wait for no one. No one.

Though, he does wish Ando were here. It's probably make communication easier. His english drastically improved... what with six months with his prettier teacher... but... Miscommunication is bound to happen. Ando would fix that. Ando's English is EXCELLENT. (Because of the American porn!)

For now? Waffles.

[Back room canon post applies; will be wrapping up slowtimes on other thread... if you have a thread there unfinished, please don't tag here. Everybody seems to want a little Hirolove, so take turns, plz! Love!]

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"...You alright, friend?" Mal asks, genuinely concerned. "Did I startle ya?"

OH NOES! He must be good. He must preserve the SECRETS OF THE BAR.

Ahem.

"Ah, no! I -- I am Hiro Nakamura!" He's foreign; maybe this will pass off as 'strange foreign customs.' "And-- I like waffus!" See, that' why he's excited.

All the same he has stuck out his hand. A hand he may never wash again after this.

Mal'll buy that. He's seen weirder, here. Not to mention Beaumonde.

"Pleased to meet ya, Hiro. Name's Mal Reynolds."

Mal takes Hiro's hand for a handshake, still smiling. "Didn't mean to interrupt your waffles, there."

"Do you like waffus?" Hiro asks, wiggling his fingers. Good grip on Mr. Reynolds. "No interrupting. Jus'-- eating. Trying to..." he thinks for a minute, "...figure out, uhm... what to do. Bar ...very strange."

He nods. If anyone knows all the things to know about the bar, he bets MAL will be the one to know.

"Ahh," Mal affects a tone of understanding. "New arrivals. Well, if you've gotten the rules speech already, the only things I got on hand to be warnin' you about are..."

As he counts off on his fingers:

"Demon bunnies, evil karaoke machine, evil DDR machine...And there are werewolves here, so be careful as to when you're wanderin' about outside at night. Other than that, there's lots to keep busy with if you're stuck here."

Grinning, "I'm a new bartender here, and I keep a horse in the stables out back."

"...Rules?" Sorry, not one soul has told Hiro the rules. "Conan said there were rules! What are the rules?" He does not want to break them!

Still, the rest sort of makes him blink. Okay, this is in fact Hero Paradise. 'cept for the ...werewolves? "Good werewolves or bad werewolves?" He's sure there are GOOD ones. Right? Right? This is a bar for heroes!

Or so he thinks.

Stables are noted; he's never seen a horse in his life. And Mal as a bartender has him beaming again. "You-- work here?" That has him blinking and he wants to ask, 'What about the ship?' -- but-- that'd be breaking the New Hiro Rule: don't talk about what you know!

"Oh! I been workin' on this speech, let's see how it goes." Again with the counting-on-fingers, "Number 1: No nakedness in the bar. Lil' children runnin' about and all. Number 2: No violence in the bar -- we've got Security folk here too; they'll shut you down if you try it. Number 3: No sex in the bar; go get a room for all o' that."

Mal stares a bit wider at the werewolves question, but nods yes. "I ain't met one that isn't good, at any rate. And yes, I work here now -- my shift's on Sunday nights. It's a good break between jobs."

"Easy rules!" Because he was not about to get naked and be hentai in the bar! Or beat anybody up. He was not the punch people type. But he nods; very simple, very concise! And the werewolves are good? Great!

With being told about work between jobs, he considers and nods. He-- doesn't know what to say that won't be too much, so he settles for smiling. "That's great!"

Yep, this is making out for a good place.

"But-- how do you leave?"

"...You don't see a door?"

Mal frumps, vaguely.

"Duibuqi, Hiro -- you're Bound. You can't go home 'til the Bar makes that door show up again for ya."

"Bou...bound?" He doesn't know that word. Especially not in this context. Blinking, he pushes his glasses up his nose. "But-- what-- why is there no door?"

He doesn't get it.

Gorramit.

"...The Bar? Is not letting you go home."

Turning to the bar, Mal asks, "What's the word in Hiro's language for 'Bound'?"

A small scrap of paper appears on the bar in front of Hiro.

THE MAGIC BAR STRIKES AGAIN. Hiro has this tendency to stare at it when it does that. But then he blinks back to reality and ... oooh, NOW he gets it.

"But-- I have to save the cheerleader! I have to see Ando! Save the cheerleader, save the world!"

....yeah, weird little catchphrase, but it works.

"...To wubba who?"

"Save the cheerleader, save the world!" There is hand waving and cheekwobblnig seriousness at hand. THIS IS SERIOUS BUSINESS, MAL. "IT IS MY MISSON!"

"Whoa. Okay, Mission Man, calm down 'fore I have to go get a doctor."

Not that you couldn't probably use one anyhow.

"It's very very probable that time isn't passing in your 'verse. Please remember that before you pop a vein or somethin', dong ma?"

"....time stoppu?"

He considers this for a moment, and then marginally relaxes. "So. Yes. Vacation," he says, very quietly. "Already... had one of those."

With a very nice girl.

"...Everyone deserves two vacations in a row at some point or other in their lives, I'd think."

Hiro looks like he needs a bit of cheering.

"Have you been outside yet?"

"I saw the door out!" he says. "It looks very cold!" Scotland in winter is no where near as balmy as Texas in the fall. "Are the staburus there?"

"Sta..burr...Stables! Yes!"

Accents are hard.

"We could go check up on Tequila -- my horse, I mean."

"Tequira? Like-- drink?" He mimes a shot glass. A horse named Tequila! That's just awesome! And so very Mal! Hiro is positively tickled!

"... I don't have a jacket. Will it be-- very cold?"

"Like the drink, yes," Mal laughs. "And I'm sure you can borrow a coat from Bar. Even buy one, 'cause you run up a tab and all."

"A tab?" He blinks and looks at the ....massive tab wall behind the bar. "Oooooh. So-- I ask Bar... for coat?" And that's good and kosher?

"Absolutely. Go for it, Mission Man."

Mal stands from the bar, gesturing to the bartop for Hiro to get a coat.

Hiro goes over to Bar! He -- looks around, and then... looks down. His little windbreaker is just not going to handle the weather here...

"...coat, pureaze?"

And there is a nice, suitable coat! Isn't that MAGICAL? To Hiro it is. But it's a decent sized brown leather affair. Why no, Bar's not feeding into his horrible case of Hero Worship here, no way. Not quite LONG enough, but-- enough that his fancy is totally tickled.

"Sankyuu!"

NOW THEY GO OUTSIDE YES? Poor Mal, dealing with someone who beams to blind at twenty paces.

Seeing Hiro in a brown coat is...a special experience. Mal succeeds in not appearing terribly confused.

"Alright, so -- " Mal smiles for a second before turning on one heel toward the back door. Stepping out into the cold, Mal doesn't bother to button up the front of his duster.

"The stables are out this way," Mal points out the low building off to the left. "I volunteer over there some days. Don't get much grass and trees out in the black."