milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Jean-Luc Picard enters the holodeck doors, decked out in his Dixon Hill outfit, ready to become his favorite detective. When he's dumped into a bar full of patrons that don't all look human or dressed for the era, he's confused, but decides to play along. That's why he'll be found by the fireplace, watching the goings-on with great interest.

Tiny!Tag: Jean-Luc Picard

(OOC: Due to migraine, this post is in auto-slowtime, and also taggable until it falls off the front page. Thanks!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What do you want for a pre-WWII tech base (give or take extra Tesla)?

"Do you mind if I use one of your chairs?" checks Robo waving a sheaf of paper, "I'm catching up on my paperwork here and it's just easier to burn some of the worst pieces."

"As long as you don't burn the chair," Picard says. "What kind of paperwork do you have?"

"Nah, that's what the fireplace is for. Thanks," says Robo, "A lot of it's grant proposals - I'm wading through the backlog here to try and take advantage of the whole temporal effects the bar has."

Robo lets the paper drop to the table and offers a hand.

"I'm Robo by the way."

Still thinking he's on the holodeck, he shakes the robot's hand and says, "My name is Hill. Dixon Hill. It's a pleasure to meet you, Robo."

The mistake is perfectly understandable.

"You too, Mr. Hill."

Men's clothing is horrible to try and guess a date from for most years. Still, Robo remembers the style.

"Do you mind if I ask what your home date is?" he asks, "I'm from, well, fifty years or so from the last time that look was popular and I don't want to give away anything to early."

OOC: Will be delayed as I head home from the office. Alas.

"Uh... 1941." He blinks at Robo, slightly confused. "What do you mean, home date?"

No worries, I'll be on and off all evening. I ♥ slowtime.

"You haven't heard the speach then," says Robo, "Let me welcome you to Milliways. It's a bar, rooms and attached grounds in a sort of pocket dimension hanging just shy of the temporal end of the universe."

"I - well the first drink's free, I've heard."

No mouth. It's a thing.

"That's, um." Picard stares at Robo, nearly speechless. "Is there a Q entity around here?"

"That's not a term I know off the top of my head," says Robo, "Maybe I should have asked what you were counting the years from too then."

Robo gives a fairly impressive shrug.

"There's all sorts of different kinds of people here, and it draws from more than one history. I haven't found anyone else from my home one here yet."

Picard's head slowly explodes. It's a neat thing to watch, really.

"So--you're sure this isn't an illusion, or some really well done hologram?"

Fun times, fun times.

"Given that I first arrived from the aftermath of fighting a creature that exists outside the entire universe I may have been a bit more accepting of the explanation I got that I usually would be," concedes Robo, "The evidence so far has backed up what I heard though."

Wait, hologram? Is Hill a LARPer? (Human hobbies are weird sometimes.)

"That... How was this place created?" Picard looks confused.

LARPing is one way to put it, the mun supposes.

The thought had honestly not occurred to this mun until it had to Robo.

"I don't know, it was like this when I got here," admits Robo, "If you think this is bad, the mountains out back only have one side. You go up one side, over the peak and back down where you came from. I'm tempted to get a really long stick one day and just take it with me to see what happens."

The part where there is an 'out back', let alone the mountains isn't probably helping either. Oops.

Cue more Captain breakage.

"So this isn't 1941?" he asks quietly. "It's not even the 23rd century?"

"This is why the first drink's free," says Robo softly, "Come on, I'm not loosing any time back home and the paperwork won't get impatient. Pick your poison and we'll see what ends up making sense at the end of all of this."

Explanation, universe, wits, what ever end the poor man needs

"Where do I order?" he asks. "I'd really like a hot cup of tea."

"The bar is automated," says Robo, "Some sort of AI, I'm not sure what architecture though - I don't want to guess with all the different worlds here. Or you could ask the rats. They're the waitstaff."

Once in a while it's good to be immune to diseases.

Picard makes a slight face at the rats.

"I'll order from the bar directly, thank you. It sounds like some sort of replicator from my home." Turning to Bar, he says, "Tea, Earl Grey, hot." It appears in front of him, and he takes a sip.

"This tea is very, very good, possibly the best I've ever had," he says to Robo.

Rats aren't bugs, that's about all Robo has to say for them.

"I'll take your word for it," says Robo, "So, Mr. Hill, either you're from a very different 1941 than I lived through or I'm afraid you skipped a few points when you introduced yourself."

"I do owe you an apology," Picard says. "My name is Jean-Luc Picard, I'm captain of a starship, and I'm from the 23rd century."" He offers his hand again. "I thought this was a holographic simulation of a novel where I was going to be playing the main character, Dixon Hill, hence my introduction to you."

Robo wants to ask how they manage to get anything done given that kind of entertainment option. It might do some good to deal with Farmville in the office.

"I think I'd stick with radio plays myself Captain," he says instead with the second hand shake, "I like having my hands free."

Are you up for the nickle tour, or do you want a momment more to just take it all in right now."

It's much like television--once the novelty wears off, it's much like anything else, entertainment-wise.

"I'd like the tour, please." Best to know where he is and what he's surrounded by.

"Fair enough," says Robo, "The first thing to know is that there are three major rules here. The first rule is that there is no violence inside the bar area here, outside or in the garage is generally accepted for consensual duels, that sort of thing. The second rule is related, no outside business. Old grudges stay on the other side of the door. The bar is neutral territory, but self defense is allowed. The third rule covers adult interactions. Clothes stay on down here and nothing more than first base where the kids are going to bump into you."

Pause and wait for the Captain to absorb the info dump.

He nods. "All of that makes sense, certainly." He takes a sip of tea. "So if Q shows up, or the Borg, I shall have to be nice. Difficult, but doable. Thank you for telling me the rules. What happens if they are violated?"

Not that he expects to violate anything, but it's best to know in case something beyond his control happens.

"It's disturbingly sensible," agrees Robo, "There's a security staff somewhere that enforces the rules with time in confinement."