milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The door swishes--hey wait, swishes? open.

For a second, a rather bemused-looking woman in Starfleet reds stands on the threshold. "... Oh. In here?"

Then she's inside, and the door is swishing closed again. Gotta love sliding wall panels. She'll be making her way toward Bar presently.

For all Sariel Rager knows, it's been a week since the bar last turned up. No, she hasn't looked outside or at the calendar yet.

If the lady with the black pip on her collar is a friend, she'll welcome catching up with you. If she's a stranger, chances are pretty high she won't turn you away either.

((OOC: this post brought to you by Chanter badly needing to get active again! I'll be in and out all day due to local festivals and assorted holiday weekend shenanigans, but I will be around.))

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The man at the nearest table is new. At least Sariel hasn't seen him before.

He is reading something on a device Sariel might think of as a data pad, and drinking red wine from a large glass.

He looks up at the first 'swish', and watches what the door does for her with a slightly raised eyebrow.

[[meta: welcome back, chanter! if hannibal lecter is not for your taste, just drop me a PM and i send you somebody else, like urquhart or margolotta or teja...]]

What a strange outfit. Some sort of uniform, but unlike any he's ever seen.

"Good afternoon."

"I've never seen the door do that before", Gavroche says with interest. "Where are you from?"

It's been a while since Leela last saw Sariel. Hardly an eternity, but long enough by the standards of a traveler in the TARDIS. Long enough that her eyes have changed color at any rate.

Leela smiles. "Hello, Sariel. It is good to see you again."

No, Sariel hasn't seen this particular patron before, and yes, that... does look something like a datapad to her. The unfamiliar person gets a pleasant nod, but if the technology is what gets a second look, well. There aren't all that many people from her home universe here. You can't really blame a girl for trying to discern, or rule out, world of origin by tech.

((OOC: I say thankya, Maru! It's a good thing Sariel doesn't know who and what Hannibal is, is all I'm saying. :) If/when she finds out, oooooh boy is she going to react. Sorry, Sariel. She's now giving me a look.))

From closer by, it isn't a data pad from her home world, but something very similar, some tiny computing device the man uses to read something which is, in it's lay-out, not entirely unlike the LCARS of her world.

"Good evening," he says pleasantly, noticing her look.

Some sort of uniform is the truth, though if you're not from twenty-fourth century Federation space, chances are it does look pretty bizarre. There have been a few jokes about it even in Sariel's own time.

"Good afternoon--oh, is it afternoon here?" says the young woman, stopping roughly two steps from Bar and turning in place. "The time parallel between my local dimension and this one is off again."

"Apparently automatic doors aren't very common to patrons here," Sariel says, pausing about halfway to Bar and turning back. "That's surprising, really, given the number of possible worlds connected to this dimension." If the door didn't confirm this woman's universe as a fairly advanced one as far as technology goes, musings like those probably do the trick.

"My home is the island of Saint Lucia on Earth, in the year 2370, but I'm currently aboard a..." Excuse the sudden pause, but she's just realized what she'd been about to say. No need to give someone culture shock on a universal scale if it can be avoided. "Does your world have any form of space travel?"

This could sound patronizing if said in the right way. Fortunately, that's not at all the way Sariel says it. Speaking of saying things, Gavroche might pick up on the hint of an accent to her words; a consonant just a shade more clear than might be usual, the odd syllable differing just slightly from what some people might call standard pronunciation. Then again, standard is very much relative, and she *did* just give a location for planetside home...

Her eyes have changed color? Sariel hasn't gotten close enough to see that aspect of Leela's appearance just yet, but give her a minute, maybe. That smile's getting returned, at any rate.

"Hello, Leela. You, too--has it been very long here?"

Similar, yes, but not entirely the same... "Good evening," Sariel says pleasantly, and then, "Excuse me. For a second, I thought the technology you were using originated from my home universe."

This doesn't rule out a point of origin in a similar universe, and Sariel knows it. Not that Hannibal can know her thoughts at all.

"Several months have passed by the Bar's time," Leela says. "As for my own universe, it is hard to say how much time has passed when one is traveling in the TARDIS. But we have been many places and encountered many enemies."

"No", he says cheerfully. (It does, but not anywhere near what she has.) "But I know of worlds that do. River Tam's, for one. 2370... that's way ahead of me."

"I actually don't know what time it is here. I just tend to arrive after lunch for some reason. I suppose I ought to pay more attention to the clock." Is there even one here?

He smiles, and holds out the device to her. It's similar, but quite different -- simply an iPad, in a tough black neoprene cover.

"Is that from your world?"

Sariel takes in the appearance of the thing, then shakes her head. "No," she says, "after a second look at it--no. Excuse me. There are similarities, but not as many as I'd initially thought."

Beat. "As a frame of reference, by my local calendar, the year is 2370."

"Not that I've ever seen," Sariel answers, "though there is a calendar." Slight headtilt in the direction of the back door. "I'm not certain exactly how it's kept, or who keeps it, but it does exist." Beat. "Doors don't seem to be consistent in when or where they appear in my universe. They were more predictable about a year ago, but that's changed."

No, she has no idea why.

Sariel brightens at that. "You know River? How is she, do you know? I haven't seen her in--" Pause. "I'm not sure how long. I'm starting to suspect the parallel between time in my own world and this one is off again." That's afternoon light through the back door, isn't it? Oh no.

"How far ahead, if I can ask?" Not that Gavroche can know it, but she's educatedly guessing he's from further ahead than Will.

""Oh no..." dismayed face ahoy. One hand covers that expression for a second, and there just might be a mutter not meant for general hearing muffled behind it. "Aboard ship, it's only been a week! I imagine I've missed any number of different things, here."

Encountering enemies can wait a second. Pun only somewhat intended.

"I went two years without a door, and then it just returned. Usually from my office these days." Which often makes for an interesting day at work. Adds an element of surprise.

"Howard Stark, by the way. From 1946."

"I haven't seen her in a while, but I haven't heard about anything terrible happening to her", he offers cheerfully. "It's just turned September here. And I was from 1832, but now I'm from 2007."

"Early 2013, here," the man says. "You live in the future. Did you at least get space ships, or is your world messed up in interesting ways as most futures seem to be?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, by this place's standards," Leela says. "Or my own, if things keep on the way they have."

Charles looks up from his tea and book when she enters with a smile, he's tired and enjoying a quiet moment, "Hello Sariel."

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