milliways_bar | Happy Hour

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Happy Hour

Charles has spent the day in the library reading some old friends of books that he doesn't have in Washington DC as well as some new ones.

The time passed faster than he realized and when he orders a drink, he laughs before starting to go through the drink book. Tonight will be inspired by those he loves.

Specials
Sex Magnet
Over the Rainbow
Alternatini
Share a story of someone who has changed your life for the better and your drink is free.

Then he pours himself a Scotch and waits to see who will arrive.

Tiny tag: Daryl Dixon
(OOC: Charles is listening passively to thoughts, please include them in your narration. Threadhop and enjoy, we made it to the weekend. I'm falling asleep. And closed for new tags, tahnk you for a fun happy hour.

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Ellen nods. "I hope that wasn't too much of a problem for you," she says.

Just because she's used to the idea of being stuck somewhere for an extended length of time whether or not she wants to leave, doesn't mean other people can deal with the situation with equanimity. And anyway you can't do all your work here no matter how hard you try if you aren't prepared for it.

He looks into his drink as he decides what to explain, when he was Bound was through most of October.

It was a hard time, but that was not the fault of Milliways, "No, it wasn't."

"That's something, at least," Ellen says. "So what happens now? At home, I mean."

"We keep refining Cerebro until we can use it to reliably find other mutants and then Erik and I will speak to them,"

They control that contact, the government doesn't play a role in it.

"Question," says Ellen, lifting a forefinger. "Just how intelligent is Cerebro?"

She's dealt with plenty of intelligent machines before. She grew up around robots. John Henry Eden isn't even the only sapient mainframe she's ever encountered. It's just that if you're doing something big and vital and important, and one of your partners is a self-aware machine, it's probably best to make sure the machine understands why you're doing what you're doing.

"It doesn't have any intelligence of its own. I would be aware of it if it did,"

Though that is an interesting idea but also a complicated one.

Ellen nods. "Just checking," she says. "People around here don't always seem to know how to deal with thinking machines."

She still remembers Mr. Deckard helping her out with finding that android, and how sour the look on his face was at the end of it. Even if Chief Harkness was a better person overall than many of the Wastelanders she'd met.

"I've only met one here, an android named Data from a future. He was a pleasure to speak to."

"I don't think I know him," says Ellen. "We had a fair number of robots in the Vault where I grew up, and there's still plenty of them scattered around the Wasteland. Some of them are kinda homicidal, but you'd be like that too after two hundred years of no purpose and no maintenance. The ones that've been taken care of are really, really good at their jobs, but the smarter they are the more important it is to be careful and let them make decisions of their own."

Sawbones, the Mr. Gutsy in the Citadel infirmary, tends to be extra rough in his physical exams when he's feeling frustrated. That, or write bad* poetry.

*"Brotherhood of Steel blood is red, ionic medical pulse beams are blue,
Steel is better than flesh, and artificial intelligence sub-processors are too."

Charles raises an eyebrow at all of that,

"I see, they must add another layer of complications to everything. That level of automation isn't possible in my time."

Ellen shrugs. "They've always been there," she says. "Kind of like other people have animals, you know? They're just sort of... part of life."

They didn't have animals in the Vault for Ellen's first nineteen years. Robots, sure, animals, no. Other than radroaches, and you killed those. Usually with BB guns.

"Ah, that would change your approach to them. They're still mainly science fiction in my era."

"They can be useful," Ellen says, thinking for a moment of Liberty Prime's gigantic form blocking out the sky as the forty-foot war robot thunders about THE LAST DOMINO FALLS HERE. "But if you ever do wind up developing them, make sure you treat them right, okay?"

"I promise that we will,"

It would be awful if mutantkind were able to get fair treatment and others were not.

"Thanks," Ellen says.

There's a nudge at the back of her leg.

"Say, there isn't any meat back there that I could give Dogmeat, by any chance?"

"Yes, there is. What kind would be best?"

The kitchen of Milliways is bigger than it seems.

"As long as it's not rotten," Ellen says. "He'll eat any meat he can get hold of."

(It's true.)

Charles laughs and goes into the kitchen before returning with a plate of chopped up steak,

"Here."

OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY THAT'S FOOD IT SMELLS LIKE FOOD THAT'S THE SPECIAL KIND OF FOOD OH BOY OH BOY OM NOM NOM CHOMP SNARF GULP NOM NOM NOM.

"Yeah, I think he was hungry," is all Ellen says as she puts the dish on the floor in front of him.

Charles laughs as he nods, "Yes, he was. I'm glad you're enjoying it, Dogmeat."

Dogmeat wags his tail and continues devouring everything in his path.

"You'd think I starved him, the way he eats," says Ellen. "I suppose that's what happens when you spend the first part of your life as a Wasteland dog. I can't imagine his previous human had an easy time feeding him and herself both."

"He knows how to enjoy what he has. I just hope that he doesn't make himself sick."

"He'll be fine," Ellen says, because this is Dogmeat and she's seen him gorge himself on the innards of a giant scorpion before without taking any notable harm. "It takes a lot more than this to put him off."

"That must be useful where you live. Do you want anything to eat?"

"No, I'm fine for the moment," Ellen says. The mirelurk meat she and Jerald got at Rivet City is still holding up pretty well at the factory; this is about the second or third night of it. There's a lot of meat on a 'lurk, and it's all pretty good stuff. "But thank you. I just wanted to get a breather from the factory, really."

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balancingminds - 2012-12-08 02:31 (UTC) - Expand

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