(no subject)

[learned_the_truth]

They told him on his first visit that Milliways could turn up anytime, anywhere. Damned if they weren’t right. This time it was on the upper floor of New Hope Lutheran church where John had gone to take care of some handyman chores in the Sunday school rooms for Murphy.

He’s not proud of how he’d lost his cool the first time around. If he’s going to hunt, he’s going to have to train himself out of reactions like that. This time, he’s considerably more collected. Once he realizes that he’s been whisked away again, John just hefts his toolbox and starts a slow circuit of the bar, taking a good look at everything this time.

He winds up in front of the window. The one that’s supposed to show the Once and Future Big Bang, apparently.

“So, you’re how it all ends, huh?”

[OOC: A brief character note.]

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Whurf?" is the reply.

Okay, a reply.

Okay, the one-blue-eye, one-brown-eye Aussie cattle dog standing next to him probably didn't intend his sound as a response in any way worth mentioning. The timing was pure coincidence.

(There's a mildly frustrated Korean-looking young woman of about twenty doing the 'where the heck did that dog run off to' shuffle among some of the nearby tables, if John happens to look up at the right moment.)

[learned_the_truth]

At the moment, his attention is on the dog.

Somehow, it cements a weird sort of normality to Milliways. Having an ordinary (as far as he can see) dog walk up to him. A smile actually appears.

"Hey there, boy."

John reaches out to rub the dogs ears.

"You aren't some alien weredog that's going to bite my hand off, are you?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Apparently not, as he's busy wagging his tail and generally looking pleased at the attention. He's got a collar, too, although it looks more like someone took a knife to some kind of coat or uniform or something and hacked the leather trim of to make the collar than anything you'd buy at a pet store.

(Possibly the human has food? But if he doesn't, attention is okay too. Dogmeat is a simple animal, and easy to please.)

[learned_the_truth]

Unfortunately, John is currently foodless.

Save for a stray Cheerio that's stuck to his shirt cuff and has thus far gone unnoticed. (A remnant of Dean's breakfast this morning.)

John scratches the dog's ears and scruffs up the fur on his neck above his collar.

"Do you belong to someone here?"

He looks around, and spots a woman who looks like she might be a likely candidate.

"Hey! Are you missing a dog?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Oh, is that where he went?" Ellen spins around on one heel and heads over towards the man and the window. "I'm so sorry, was he bothering you? Dogmeat tends to pester people around here much more than he ever does back home."

[learned_the_truth]

John shrugs.

"It's fine. I don't mind dogs."

He and Mary had talked about getting a dog. But then there was a baby who rapidly grew into a toddler. And then before you knew it Sammy was on the way. And then a new baby. Somehow they'd just kept putting it off.

"Probably because of the nose. Place like this? His sense of smell must be working overtime."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Oh yes," says Ellen. "Between all the people, all the rats, all the different kinds of food being moved around here- it's a lot more diverse than at home, that's for sure."

"My name's Ellen, by the way. This is Dogmeat, who you've already met. He happened to bark when the name came up in conversation with a friend of mine, and it seems to have stuck."

[learned_the_truth]

"John. Nice to meet you."

He smiles wryly down at the dog.

"You sure it was an agreement and not a protest?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Well, it wasn't a culinary conversation, if that's what you mean," Ellen says. "My friend's from one of the tribes out West, and the Dogmeat she mentioned was a heroic dog from her people's history. So there's worse things to be named after, even if it is a little embarrassing sometimes."

[learned_the_truth]

John holds up one hand in what looks like a vaguely apologetic gesture. The other hand is still occupied by the toolbox, which he sets down.

"No worse than being named something like..." John fumbles. "Hannibal, I guess. Old--really old--war hero from my world."

And possibly mythological. John's not sure about that.

"What did the first Dogmeat do?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"The one who crossed the Alps with elephants?" Ellen says. "I actually know somebody named after him- at least, I think that's who Hannibal Hanlin is named after, he never said..."

"Oh- well, it's... um." Ellen fidgets a little. "I guess I should probably ask, first. You sound like you're from Earth, especially since you mentioned Hannibal, so I kind of want to make sure I don't accidentally say the wrong thing. I'm guessing you're from sometime after the 1960s, am I right?"

"I promise I'll answer your question! It's just that some of the answer won't make any sense at all unless I clarify a few things first."

[learned_the_truth]

John nods.

"That's the one. I remember hearing about him in school. About how he dissolved boulders with vinegar of all things. It made an impression."

He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm from Earth. An Earth, anyway."

Apparently there's more than one out there.

"And I'm from 1984." John eyes her curiously. "You're not from the 60s, are you?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"No," says Ellen. "Kind of the other direction, in fact. I ask because the easiest way I have of finding out whether people are from the history that led up to my time and place is to ask them who the first American on the moon was."

[ladyfirestarter]

There's a red-haired woman at a table not far from the window, with a mug of coffee; her head turns at the sound of his voice.

[learned_the_truth]

John catches the faint movement of the (apparently normal) woman at the table.

He nods slightly.

"Sorry."

He doesn't usually talk to himself.

[ladyfirestarter]

(Apparently normal. That about covers it.)

"'Sokay," she says, and glances from him to the Window.

"First time seeing it?"

[learned_the_truth]

"Second," John says.

He'd seen it on his first visit, but his attention had been kind of divided.

"Didn't take a very close look that time, though."

[ladyfirestarter]

"Ah."

She considers him for another moment, and smiles. "Welcome. -- Charlie McGee."

[learned_the_truth]

"John," he replies. "Nice to meet you. And thanks."

"Are you from Earth?" he asks.

[ladyfirestarter]

(Charlie has long since gotten over the name John; it's too common for her to have done otherwise.)

"Yeah," she says. "America. New Mexico, just outside a town called Taos. Uh, summer of 2012."

She tilts her head at the seat opposite her, in silent invitation.

"What's your where and when?"

[learned_the_truth]

John hesitates for a moment, but ultimately takes the seat. He sets the toolbox on the floor by his feet.

"Blue Earth, Minnesota. April of 1984."

There's a brief amused snort.

"It's like 'name, rank, and serial number'."

Taken to a really weird degree.

[ladyfirestarter]

A rueful smile. "Kind of, yeah. You get used to rattling it off."

[learned_the_truth]

"I'll take your word for that."

He's going a lot by peoples' words these days.

"So, that," he adds, nodding back at the window. "It's the real deal and not something looped on a tape somewhere?"

[ladyfirestarter]

"I'm pretty sure it's real." Sober. "No way to know for sure, of course, but ..."

[learned_the_truth]

John smiles wryly.

"No one's gone looking for the man behind the curtain, huh?"