milliways_bar | Investigating...

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Investigating...

(coming in from this place, somewhere in the Land of Light of Reflection Galaxy M78)

The door swings open, and there's a slight shimmer as a young man walks into view. He's wearing what appears to be a uniform of some kind, mostly grey with red and yellow accent points, with an empty holster on his right hip.

"Hm," he says to himself as he looks around. "it doesn't seem dangerous. But neither did they..." Experience is a harsh, harsh teacher.

He walks towards the bar, trying to look confident (as opposed to arrogant). He looks more inquisitive, though, and if anyone would like to say hello, he wouldn't mind at all.

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Inquisitive is something with which Ray is familiar, even if he's not very good at reading human body language otherwise. He's damn good at recognizing it on nonhumans, too. So either way, he's aware of what he's looking at when he glances up and spots the newcomer. "Hi there," he says with a bit of a tired smile. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. Welcome to Milliways."

Mirai smiles a bit. He's learned a lot about human body language, but there's still something every-so-slightly off. Then he bows.

"Yes. I have been sent here to make sure there is no threat, and to assist in guarding from other threats if needed. My name is Mirai Hibino."

He's got that look, Ray. That look of trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, mostly cheerful, brave, clean, and sometimes not particularly bright when it comes to throwing himself into danger.

"This is how it normally appears?"

... but... but... but Lelldorin isn't Japanese.

Ray returns the bow, or returns a bow, anyway- he's more familiar with the form that they use in Melcene than anything Terran, by this point. "This is generally how the Bar appears, yep," he says. "Unless it's seen from the outside, of course, in which case there's a certain amount of spatial distortion involved. My name is Raymond Stantz, although everybody just calls me Ray. Do you mind telling me a little bit more about who sent you and what they believe to constitute a threat?"

"It is good to meet you, Ray. I have been sent by the commander of the Space Garrison, Ultra Commander Zoffy, and the ruler of the Land of Light of Reflection Nebula M78, Ultra Father. They noticed a strangeness in space and time, which is this place. I have recently been on assignment on Earth, and they thought I would be best suited for coming here."

....either he's delusional, from a really weird world, or both.

"Oh, it was also recommended that I find if there is any enforcement group and join it, so that I am properly under the orders of those who know best."

He's really new here.

If this were happening forty-seven years ago, Ray would have an amazing twitch under his eye right now. Fortunately, it has literally been nearly half a century since he last watched Equilibrium. So- no twitching.

"A strangeness in space and time is probably the biggest understatement I've ever heard applied to this place," says Ray. "As nearly as I can tell, it's the gathering point for the end of a lot of space-time continua, and that always brings in unusual people and events. As far as enforcement groups go, that'd probably be Bar Security, although I don't know if they're hiring just at the moment. You'd have to talk to one of the people with Security badges to find out, but there's usually at least one of them around here."

"In the meantime, you should probably know the three basic rules of conduct for the Bar. THey like it when applicants have those under their belt."

"Interesting. I will need to make a note of that in my first report to Ultra Commander Zoffy." The next part makes the comparison to Lelldorin even more apt, as he perks up almost like a puppy.

"Ah! Thank you. Those would be most helpful."

He sits down, attending to Ray's sage advice.

Seriously. It's kinda freaky.

"All right. The first rule of the Bar is that there's no violence allowed in the Bar," Ray says. "Sparring and practice combat is allowed outside, as is dueling, but only by mutual consent of all parties involved. I believe fighting is also permitted in the gym, again by mutual consent. There are cells used for confinement purposes around here somewhere; that's where they stick people who violate the rule, usually for a day or so. More if the offense is especially egregious."

He's gonna pause here for an assimilation check. The last person he told the rules to was Mojo Jojo, so there were a lot of questions.

Mirai, however, is coming out of a quasi-military background. "That is very sensible. The point of the imprisonment would seem to be... to allow the offender or offenders time to relax, ponder their mistakes, and cease their anger. Very noble." He's also used to dealing with either the utterly malevolent or the mostly animalistic, neither of which are good at hanging back and chilling out.

"Everyone I meet, I find, has something to teach me, about life, or combat. Sparring will be helpful, I think, for some of them."

"This place is incredibly popular for learning about different forms of combat and culture both," Ray says. "I had my apprenticeship as a Jedi Knight here, because there aren't any Jedi on Earth in my time."

"The second rule is that there's to be no old business from home in the Bar. That's not meant economically. It means that outstanding warrants from home don't apply here, and old enemies aren't to be attacked here unless they give you trouble first. I know it's incredibly difficult with some kinds of enemy-" He's thinking mostly of what would happen if a mountain walked or stumbled out of the lake, since Walter Peck turning up at the Bar would just get an ass dance of victory in his face. "-but the management likes to maintain this place as neutral ground as far as possible."

"Jidai? You are trained as a place in time? That sounds somewhat unusual." He has 1) never seen a Star Wars movie and 2) is now looking at Ray a bit oddly. He may not be manifested, but he still has the senses of an Ultraman for unusual energies.

"Ah. Most of those who would be enemies of mine are destroyed or bound. Very few of them would probably come here. Ultra Father did not even notice this distortion until recently, and he is the oldest, wisest, and most perceptive of the Space Garrison. I think I shall be safe."

"Different word," Ray says. "Jidaigeki isn't the source of the name, but I really don't think anyone knows where the original word comes from. The order's origins are more ancient than the civilizations of my native planet."

As far as unusual energies go, the only one he's going to get is the lingering trace of Oh Hai, I Deleted Ur Hayflick Limit left behind by Belar and UL's alterations. Ray is still about as magically, psychically, paranormally, supernaturally, and Force-actively capable as the wrapper on a slice of pasteurized process cheese food product.

The thing with the cinnamon buns was aimed at his gut bacteria, not him.

"Excellent. Then the third should be simplest. Species who wear clothing for reasons of modesty or propriety are to remain clothed in public areas, and reproductive attempts, whether meant seriously or recreationally, are to be kept to private locations such as the rooms offered upstairs."

Spend six and a half years in Salmissra's palace desperately working to develop small engine technology and you'd lose a lot of your old embarrassments too.

"Ah, I see. Similar word. Sorry."

That is odd energy, as well as the energies in his abdomen. But it's more like Light Energy than Minus Energy, and this allows him to relax.

The third makes him chuckle. "Well, I have this, and I was told I was going to get more soon...."

The door opens, and a pair of suitcases slide in, hitching up against Mirai's chair. "...and there is my luggage. Ultra Mother is very efficient."

"Nothing at all to apologize for," Ray says. "The linguistic translation field that makes it possible for people to communicate here despite being from different worlds entirely can't cover everything, after all.

Ray turns to watch the luggage arrive. "No kidding," he says. "Wow. And I thought that guy who had a trunk made of sapient pearwood to follow him around with his clothes had it good."

Mirai reaches into the top of the first suitcase, and pulls out a wallet. "We receive a certain amount of support as we begin our tour of duty; after that, we must learn the local culture well enough to survive on our own amongst the residents. After thirty thousand years of protection, the Garrison has the entire routine well-planned." He opens the wallet, and goes ah! "A credit card! Ultra Mother has helped me survive again."

He smiles. "Thank you for your help and advice. May I get you something?"

"Suddenly I wish Hal Jordan were still here," Ray says. "It sounds like the kind of thing the Green Lantern Corps would appreciate."

"Oh- I'm all right, thanks. I haven't finished this yet." He indicates his glass. "You should know that the first drink is free, and that the Bar responds to voice requests if there's no Barman around to take the order. The rats will also take orders and bring you your food if you want."

"Oh. That is quite convenient then." He leans down and speaks to one of the rats, a little tentatively. It scurries off, and returns to him with a cup of coffee.

"My commander on Earth was a great conniseur of coffee. He introduced us to many different types. I like it better than sake."

He has a brief, bleary flash to a night in town with Ryuu, George and Teppei, including waking up wearing Konomi's glasses and one of Marina's belts where it shouldn't be. That did not get put in a report, no...

"Much better."

"They like to make sure everybody has a chance at getting their orders right here," Ray says. Then he smiles. "I've never been much of a one for sake myself, but coffee's very popular in my part of New York City. Where on Earth were you stationed, anyway?"

"Japan," he says. "I was a member of a group called 'GUYS' - Guards for Utility Situations, the Japan branch. Our duties for counter-monster operations took us across the country, and into the sea for operations with GUYS Ocean." He takes a sip of the coffee. "Perfect!" he exclaims, pleased, then returns.

"Normally, we conceal ourselves so as to not make humans dependant on us, or inspire unhealthy admirations. Ultra Commander Zoffy advised me to be honest here, in case something happened." He shakes his head. "He worries. You would think that twenty-five thousand years of experience would make him trust his people, but I am the rookie, so I get most of the teasing and concern. Even my cousin Taro made a point of teaching me as much combat skill as he could in order to insure I would not have problems later." He sighs. "Then the commander of GUYS Ocean found out, revealed it to everyone, and tried to have me taken into custody so that GUYS could find a way to make their own Ultraman. My own team appealed directly to the Minister for Extraplanetary Affairs, and he decided I should remain with GUYS Japan, due to the locus of most attacks being there."

"Oh! I am being rude. You said you are from New York City. What do you do there?"

"Hm. Sounds like a different version of Earth than the one I'm from. Not that we couldn't probably use something along those lines, but that's currently my duty and that of my colleagues. My city's had a problem with ghosts, spirits, demons, and assorted other beings from other dimensions intruding on everyday life for several years now. Some of them've just been annoying, some of them have been dangerous, and more than a few have been outright life-threatening if not world-threatening. Our job is to bust them all, whether that means capturing them or simply forcing them back to where they came from, or even just getting them to go on to where they belong."

He extracts his wallet with his city ID card and a Ghostbusters business card, and offers them both for examination. "I hope the written English isn't a problem."

"It sounds like you are for your city as GUYS Japan is for Japan, and GUYS is for the world. Protect, and if need be repel or destroy, the creatures that would harm others." He nods. This is familiar territory, and so are the ID.

"The person this body is patterned after knew English, so I know it. I know Japanese better, though." He nods. "Interesting. You understand the difficulties of working with a government, including permission." He shakes his head. "The Space Garrison is much easier. 'Go here, protect this', says Ultra Father or Ultra Commander Zoffy, and we do that." He sighs. "Silly."

"We mostly work with the local government. The federal government of the United States-" Ray hesitates and then says, as diplomatically as he can, "-hasn't really been on the same page as us for most of our existence. They've been better about it since last year, though, when we had a potential invasion on the International Space Station. I'll admit, I wouldn't mind having that kind of sovereign immunity..."

"Oh, the Space Garrison does not have immunity. Most worlds we work on do not know about the Garrison at all. We just... follow the orders, then work out what to do when we get there."

Mirai smiles. "Being one of us requires a great deal of improvisation as part of the training. Very few can be granted the name of Ultraman."

"I would imagine," Ray says. "How many of you guys are there? I know that in their own universe, the Green Lantern Corps used to have... oh, gosh, several thousand members, but each one of them had an entire sector to patrol on a regular basis. They had to be deemed honest and without fear to even be considered worthy of the Corps ring, but after that the selection process was seriously stringent."

Well, it was when Ray was reading. He stopped reading some time around 'I know! Let's make Hal Jordan a whiner!'.

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