milliways_bar | (no subject)

When Matilda enters the bar, her face is white and her expression very solemn and determined for one her age. In her hands is the remains of what was a library book, but now all that remained was a book cover empty of pages.

What her father did wasn't just taunting..it was downright rude and the behavior of a jealous bully. To make matters even worse, he actually expected her to take responsibility for what he did to her.

This sort of attack required an even more devious counter attack, one that she was sure she had the perfect sceme for if Fred's parrot was as good a talker as he claimed. The only way to scare a bully after all, was to find something of his weakness and use it against him.

Unfortunately, that still left her with a damaged book. It was a heavy addition and she couldn't exactly replace it that fast with just her pocket money. Which was why she was much relieved with Milliways makes its appearence in her closet. Seeing that the specials board was otherwise blank, an idea quickly came to mind.

"Ms. Bar," She called out. "I've a large favor I need to ask..do you think I could run Happy hour for the evening?" She recieved a napkin. "Of course, no alcoholic drinks, I understand. Thank you."

An hour later and after studying a mixed drinks book, Matilda pulled over a chair to stand on as she studied the blank chalk board: if she could read, she could certainly write.

Dry Happy Hour Specials

Cola Floats
(rootbeer or coke)
egg-cream
orange julius
Sparkling Cranberry punch

Storytellers get 50% off
(story at discression of teller.)

Her writing was large and childlike, but it was clear enough to be read, which was the main thing.

That done, she jumped off the bar and started getting familar with the tools of the trade. She was pleasantly surprised to see a new copy of The Red Pony, right on the bar as well.

"Thank you for the book, Ms. Bar." She settled in her seat, using some old phonebooks to prop her up so she could be seen over the bar.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"May...be?" He doesn't think so. He's been hanging out here for years, and he knows that kind of familiarity.

Oh well.

"Could I have a root dir float, please? You'll have to use the digital ingredients, they're down there." He leans over the bar to point at a certain minifridge.

She frowned. Her brother had a computer so she was sort of familar with the term 'digital' in context, but she wasn't sure how things could become digital.

"Well, alright." She pushed her chair back so she could take a look at the minifridge. "But you'll have to talk me through how it works."

A blender she could operate, but she had no idea what went into 'digitizing'.

"Oh, you make it the same as the matter kind... the kind you drink," he adds, in case she doesn't understand, although so far she seems quite bright. "You just have to use the right ingredients or I can't drink it."

The fridge in question contains, among other things, some soda labelled 'root dir' and something which resembles ice cream but is called 'code freeze'. The rest of the language on the packaging is similarly odd. She may also notice that nothing in that section of the bar has any smell at all.

Matilda gets off the chair and looks into the actual fridge. Okay...the items look familar, but the names are more like in electronics and not food. She sets the ice cream on the counter along with a glass, before going to the 'root dir'.

These are set on the table, before she starts making it, suddenly realizing that the rootbeer..root dir..doesn't have a smell. She thought this drink always had a smell.

Hmm..

She still poured it over the ice cream. "Okay, now what?" She looks up at him.

"That's it!"

She smiles at his answer, glad she was able to do something that she'd before not really been aware if.

To top it off, she looked around the area to give him a spoon and a curly straw-because what was the fun of this sort of drink without a curly straw to top it off.

Enzo grins. He's old enough that he doesn't usually bother with curly straws anymore, but no one is old enough for them to stop being fun when you do use them.

"Thanks. Good job. I'm Enzo, by the way. Enzo Matrix." He offers a frankly enormous hand.

To be fair, at her age and size, nearly all big people seem enormous, even her mum.

She takes his hand and shakes it, or rather he shakes her hand considering how small it is. "Matilda Wormwood, it's nice to meet you."

Really, it was never a dull moment in Milliways. Case in point, learning about 'digital food'.

He freezes in mid-shake and gawps at her. "Matilda?!"

Familiarity explained!

She pulls her hand away, frowning in confusion. "Yes...have I said something wrong?"

Or done something wrong? Why was he looking at her like that?

Right. Right. "Sorry. Oh, man." Then he bites off the customary expletive and settles for, "Milliways. It hasn't happened yet.

"Um. So, you know how time is funny around here?"

The question is genuine, although if this is the same Matilda he knew, then she probably already understands it better than he does.

She still gives him a funny look. "Yes..I know."

How else could she meet someone from from the 14th century.

"Okay, well, I already know you. Except you were... a couple years older? When I met you. And I was nine. And the way this place works, it might not even have been the same you. I mean, people come from different universes here, you might be an alternate you. But we were friends, anyway."

...Okay..That sounded like something off of a science fiction program.

"Well, I'd still like to be friends with you, but unfortunately, I don't know you beyond just meeting you now."

So, this place worked not only with time but with other people.

"Oh, yeah, I get that. I've gone through this before," he adds with a roll of his eyes. "Well, I'm Enzo, like I said, and I'm a computer program."

She looked him up and down.

"Really? You look like a person to me." A green skinned person yes, but if she could meet a talking pink pony, why not a person with green skin.

"In my world, programs are people. We're called sprites."

So there you go.

She blinked. "So...let me get this straight-you actually live in a computer?"

Well, this was new, even by milliways standards. She wondered if maybe there were people inside her brother's computer.

"Uh-huh. I'm from a little PC called Mainframe, even though it's not a mainframe, but I attend the Guardian Academy in the Supercomputer. The Guardians are antivirus programs. I'm on my last term before I graduate."

That, was a lot of information to handle even for her mind. She could understand some of what he said, but only in context.

"I think I'm a little behind on what you're talking about." She responded, a little embarrassed. "Maybe the library here has books on the subject."

Up until now, most of what she'd read were proper stories, this would be the first time she'd go onto informative reading.

Right. Four-year-old. Hyperintelligent or not, she has not yet had time to LEARN ALL THE THINGS.

"Sorry about that," he says, equally sheepish. "Yeah, it probably does, and I'll do my best to explain whatever you want."