milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Current Music: Zero 7 - One arm break

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(no subject)

[OOM: Someone prepares... for a little surprise later on. ]

Earlier today Dot asked for some music from the bar, in return she got an MP3 player full of music and secretly...some txt files on a certain subject. She wanted to put on a good show after all.

She had a basket of fried paradoxes which she nibbled on from time to time, and invitation to come and talk if any of her friends, or any new people wanted to go a round of 'talk to the green chick'. The files will be shrunk and put away if certain people or children arrive.

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"I... don't know. I've been here about a handful of times, maybe a few more?" He shook his head. "Often enough that green doesn't phase me." That made Steve offer a grin, not really apologetic but maybe a little sheepish.

"Hard to keep track sometimes I guess. ...I think I've been coming here about a month and a half now. I don't think I'll ever stop being surprised by this place." She smiled back and nodded, she understood. "I'm used to the commentary on my skin by now, don't worry."

He chuckled. "Glad you're not offended. I sure didn't mean to offend - it's just... On some people, I think green looks better than on others. I think I'm saying you wear it well."

He wasn't really flirting. He was just trying to make up for stumbling over words the first time.

Ofcourse he wasn't flirting, sometimes it's good to just make interesting conversation!

"Well thank you. That is quite possibly one of the nicest responses yet."

The most interesting response goes to a pair of hobbits who thought she was a Big Person who painted her skin green. Second place is shared by some guys who thought she was an alien.

"I try to make up for when I put my foot in my mouth," he chuckled. "So... I think I have an idea of what... what species you are. ...I don't even know if that's accurate. Uh. Something to do with computers, right?"

"Something to do with computers, yes. That's... kind of accurate. I use the word Filetype. I'm a sprite, more specifically a kind of sprite called a Data sprite."

"I'm not much of a computer person. You could teach me a lot, I bet, but..." He nodded. "I kind of understand. Filetypes. Data. That kind of thing. Basics."

"Yeh. I'm a fair hand at system codes in ancient codes if you're ever up for learning about that sort of thing. But yeh, basic stuff." She smiled. "I live inside of a computer actually."

"...Wow. Now... that's amazing," he said, blinking. "Inside a computer. Wow. That's..."

That's something he didn't have a word to say. 'Wow' was close.

"Now I've defaulted to monosyllables."

"At least I didn't have to explain what a computer was to you." She chuckled. "From what I've seen and read, living inside of a computer system isn't that different than living inside of a city is for Users like you."

"Oh yeah, I know what a computer is. And I do my best not to touch one if I don't know what I'm doing with it." He laughed. "I'd rather not break what I can't fix."

"..Well that's a good thing to hear." She smirked. "Us sprites have enough on our hands."

"You can rest assured that, if it was me, it'd be unintentional," he promised with a smile.

"I know, most Users don't know sprites exist inside of their computers anyways." She gave him a wry look.

"Heck, I barely know whats in the computer box itself." Steve shook his head. "I'm more of a pencil-and-paper type guy. Now Dee, she knew about computers..."

...Dee. Damn.

Dot recognizes that look. She's worn that look before.

"...good friend of yours?" She ventured quietly.

"Yeah, uh... Used to be."

Dot nods somberly, she lost a lot of good people and good friends before. "I think I understand."

A beat. "So what do you do for a living? I'm curious as to what kinds of jobs Users have."

"Mailroom clerk. You... probably have programs that do that. Make sure the right mail gets to the right people. Low-paying job, basically just to keep things paid." He shrugged. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

"No, back home people do that job too. All the messages have to go somewhere. My little brother runs his own delivery service." She knows what he meant by programs, one breaky concept at a time.

"Sorry. I don't know your terminology." He tried a smile. "I just... shuffle envelopes for minimum wage. I used to have the position of 'unemployed'..." He did grin at that.

"Ah. We have people to sort and take the mail and stuff where it needs to go." And some have been recently unemployed, seeing as the 'Net port has been shut off for security reasons. "Well I'm glad to hear you've found a format!"

((Sorry about that, I got unexpectedly called away.))

"Thanks." Format. Aha. "I'm going to be losing the job. More like leaving it. I'm moving. But... Well, tell me about you? This is turning into the Steve Rimbauer Hour."

"Hrmm.. Well, I'm the Command.Com for Mainframe, it means I work in administration, resources and when the times call for it as an acting general when we're under threat."
A beat.

" Right now... we're gearing up for a very probable attack by a computer virus back home."

"That sounds painful. Is there... anything ... Well, I don't know what I'd do..." Maybe it was the thought that counted? "Except wish you luck?"