milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Riley is going back to DC soon. Really and truly. He's even dressed as he was -- jeans, sneakers, dark T-shirt, maroon and brown-striped shirt (left unbuttoned), and a dark brown crushed velvet blazer -- when he stepped through the door a week or two ago. He's sitting at the bar with a half-drank can of Red Bull, a folded-up pair of designer sunglasses, and a magazine opened to an article with a large picture of a red sportscar, all on the bartop beside his laptop, his eyes narrowed in concentration at the computer screen. A game of patience, this is, and skill, and more than a little luck. Riley likes to think he's got at least two of those.

Just one more game of Minesweeper, and he's gonna go.

Just one more.

Click.

Riley mutters things under his breath that are creative and unfit for young ears, and then he starts another new game.

Just one more game.

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Riley nearly chokes on his own tongue at the combination of 'Lady Marian' and 'Nottingham,' but he reels himself in.

"Nice to meet you, Lady Marian," he says, and he manfully keeps the squee internal. "I'm guessing computers aren't real common where you're from?"

"We don't have them in my time," she said with a shake of her head. She wasn't quite sure she could imagine when one would find the time to use them.

"I've learned little about them during the last few weeks from Enzo and the group that is going into The Net. But they do seem to be an invention of later time."

"Yeah, they really started coming into their own within the last few decades." He adds, "And I'm from two thousand and--" Something that she said belatedly hits home. "--Four." He adjusts his glasses. "Did you say that somebody was going into the 'net?"

"Aye," Marian said with a nod.

"There's apparently a tyrannical person, or maybe it's program, placing a virus which hypnotizing people into doing bad things."

Riley stares, and proceeds to be very eloquent: "There's a who-huh in the what now?"

"A Lady who's a virus," Marian looks a little pink and, as her hand come together, maybe not entirely sure of her words.

The Net was not her home or her book.

"She's hypnotizing people to do her bidding. The point of the mission is to free the people and stop whatever she's doing. At least, I'm pretty sure thats what it is."

"--Now, when you say," he utilizes finger-quotes, " 'Net,' do you mean -- a large ... thing made of ropes that you use for catching ... things?"

Riley: eloquent as ever.

Marian shook her head, deftly.

"No. It's apparently this--" she paused, because Marian, who was rather eloquent on all things she knew, knew very little of what she was trying to explain.

"--place? Yes, place, I think works best. Between computers. Apparently it connects them.Information travels through the connection. I think Enzo said games did, too."

"You're talking about the Internet," says Riley, dumbly. "People here can go inside the Internet?"

(He shouldn't be surprised, really.)

Marian looked a little clueless herself, but nodded.

"We've a mission to there. Apparently it's starts with being digitized. But I don't know much about except these details. There'll be a briefing in a day or two."

She was still taking in his amazed expression.

"I'm guessing this is not normal where you come from, either?"

"God, no," he says, but his dumfounded expression is starting to shift into an equally dumfounded grin.

"You get digitized-- what does that--" He stops the outpouring of amazed interest before it can get far. "Right, no details, briefing later. No," he says, and he laughs, "no, this definitely isn't normal where I'm from. In America, we sit outside the Internet."

Marian looked intrigued, since this at least meant someone might be able to tell her a little more. What Enzo had told her, about people able to die, has been weird enough.

"What is the internet like there?"

"It's a -- a huge network of computers, linking smaller computer networks from all around the world. It's a way of communicating and passing information, so it's like--" He gestures. "You can talk to a guy half the world away as easily as you can talk to your neighbor. If you're looking for a specific recipe, you can search for it. You can download and listen to music."

He's trying to think of the simplest ways possible to explain this.

It isn't easy, when his gut response is, 'Oh, it's a computer network consisting of a worldwide network of computer networks that use the TCP/IP network protocols to facilitate data transmission and exchange.'

Marian looks rather confused.

Milliways has given her the idea of worlds and universes, but thinking about talking to someone on the other side of her world was strange still.

"The future does seem full of rather amazing things."

"Couldn't live without 'em," says Riley, giving his laptop a pat. "I'm a computer programmer."

Beat.

And he adds, as if he has to, "Slash treasure hunter."

The confusion didn't fall too far away.

She wondered if that sounds as laudable in his time as it sounded in hers.

"It does sounds interesting."

Riley snorts to himself. "Yeah," he says, "you could call it that."

"Do you find anything interesting?"

Who really left treasure in places people went hunting for it?

"Well, I was really only a treasure hunter -- once," he admits. "Temporarily. But--" He chuckles, shaking his head to himself. "Yeah. Yeah, you could say we found something interesting."

Marian's eye brow raised.

"What was it?"

"Pretty much the hugest treasure anyone's ever found," he says, modestly. "It was hidden by the Knights Templar, used to belong to good old King Solomon -- Supposedly, it's priceless."

It's fingerquote time! " 'Supposedly.' "

"Sounds rather exciting."

"Yeah," says Riley. "You could call it that.

"Me, I'm pretty glad all the -- explosions and bad guys and running is over with." He looks to her. "Anyway, what about you? Any daring flights of derring do lately?" The last is a little dry, but it's a real question!

(Not that he's just hoping to hear about ROBIN HOOD OH MAN-- or anything.)

Marian looked a little thoughtful.

"Well, my home doesn't sound nearly as exciting as treasure hunting and find something possibly priceless."

She looked up.

"There's a crazy tyrant who likes to portray himself as our leader, which perhaps is not daring do. But there are those who go to lengths to do their best for our world around him."

"Well, that sucks," says Riley. "Who's your local crazy tyrant?"