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[Pre-Milliways: Dedication Day.]

Jack Benjamin -- or Prince Jonathan of Gilboa, but he won't insist -- steps into the Bar and closes the door on the party behind him. As confusing as it is to find a bar in the palace, he's got a look of eager anticipation.

"What is this place?"

[tiny tag: Jack Benjamin]

[ooc: Adult content shenanigans in the Ganymede thread.]

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For as much as Ellen said there were as many uniform wearer's about these parts, he seems to be hitting several.

"Lieutenant Commander McGarrett." This time with a more resolute sort of clipped nod. Sharp, short, nearly formal on a dime. "Navy."

Because it's true, and a lot easier to explain than being a SEAL. Especially when being a SEAL, and exactly what that entailed, while it was a point of unshakable pride, was about not needing the glory or notice of that job being done any more than it being done and the world being a safer place once it was over. "Presently, heading up a task force in Hawaii."

Because six months with the HPD was a drop in a bucket compared to the sixteen dedicated years that came before this.

"Pleasure to meet you, Commander.

"Is Hawaii a war zone?"

After twenty years of constant battle, it's hard to imagine a place without it, day after day, even if Gilboa and Gath have reached a tentative peace.

"The same to you. Captain." He's young for it. Over there, with his undone shirt, buttons and boyish smirk, but Steve's seen some up and comer's in his time. It's hard not to when you're slingshot as one of the very best of an exclusive elite force than barely reaches thousands.

"Not currently. Though it has been a hotbed during war times. It sits near the midway point of our largest ocean, between the main continent of my country." Maybe he hedges names for generality, but he's not exactly handing out exact map dots and names to people he doesn't know either. Especially when they shouldn't matter or lodge as known. "She used to be home to Battleship Row."

But the attack on Pearl Harbor set an example why that would never be true, again. Too many of their finest in one place.

"Midway between your country and what?" Jack asks thoughtfully. "Friend or foe?"

"Yes." Complicated answer, even though it's incredibly short and pin-pointed.

"There are over a hundred countries of various sizes on either side of both oceans on both sides of ours-" Depending on how you counted, and whether you counted them once as one on all three other continents. Before you started counting down and up, too."-and the relationships with all of them have their own vary levels of either."

Some of them were politically aligned and had been for a good long while. Some of them were high alert hot beds being watched round the clock. Some of them he might not flinch if he woke up tomorrow and learned an assignation of their president and their first give tiers of staff had taken place over night.

Especially when the first assumption would be that there was a high likelihood someone in a position like his meted it out.

Edited 2013-07-09 05:01 (UTC)

"It's always a complicated thing," Jack says dryly, "international relations."

"Never been a big fan myself." There something of a quirk to the line of his mouth. Dragging it crooked. "Politics."

"Always liked the straight forward, tactile response more." It's part of what makes him an amazing, brick wall of a weapon. Along with the thing where he's never once in his life had a reason to hold back or flinch away. There's something of a gold ticket in knowing there's no one to send the letter to.

"Me neither, but it's a necessary evil in my household."

"By choice?" It's speculative enough.

"By choice," Jack confirms.

There's an odd quirk to his mouth, with a nod. "I should double your condolences, then."

More comment than condescension. Steve's just never been one for the red tape and the rules.

"I appreciate them," Jack says, a weary type of quirk to his own mouth. "Sometimes I wonder if my parents thought it through when they embarked on this life."

He wonders that about a lot of people's choices. Especially before they had children to thinkof. "Do they still enjoy it?"

Jack shrugs. "I suppose so. There are benefits to power."

"You don't seem to." Enjoy it. Here, with that expression.

That one that makes him look older than he is, and so much younger, all at once.

Jack straightens up a little.

"I have a role to fill. It doesn't always suit me -- or I don't suit it."

"That what you're escaping from tonight?"

Something about that uniform and just how quick he'd loosened up its perfect lines with those buttons.

"Exactly. A formal, family function." He smiles a little at his own alliteration. "One that can carry on without the eldest son for a few minutes just fine."

Steve kicked his hand sort of like a gun toward to the door.

"It's actually paused, if you believe the rules of this place to be what that are."

It's why a lot of the people here seem to believe it's a great place to take a break from life.

"Even better."

He tilts his head. "A place like this has rules?"

"Seems to."

"Though that one, it's more just like a detail everyone uses."

"It's a useful detail.

"What are the rules?"

"No fighting."

"No business."

"No nudity, or sex."

There's the flick of a pause. "But most of it seems to relate to just this room."

"There's an outdoors, and upstairs for the rest. Though I haven't anyone else attempt the middle one."

"Damn, no bar brawls," Jack says lightly.

Without his bodyguards, he's really not too disappointed.

There's a snort for that. It tugs Steve mouth rueful and flash bright briefly.

"I hear that still happens from time to time here, anyway. Even with the jail the security has."