First entrance

[runningred]

A young man in his early 20s comes into the bar looking travel worn and tired. His motorcycle leathers are dusty and have seen better days (and a few too many close encounters with road surfaces.) His hair is dishevelled and he keeps having to push the white streak back from his face.

He looks around, almost surprised to have found himself somewhere hospitable after such a bad run. He sidles up to the bar, combing through his assorted currency.

“Anyone know where I can get motorcycle parts around here?”

[ooc: New around here so let me know if I’m doing this wrong.]

Comments

[raptorcanaria]

"Bar will usually give you whatever you ask for."

He is joined by a brunette woman also in her early twenties, fresh from the garage and wiping a smudge of grease off her cheekbone. Dinah's been coping with Urquhart's death by not allowing herself a second to sit and mope, and tonight this meant giving the Thunderbird a complete going over, including replacing some of the smaller parts. She's determined that the Arrow Car will never out pace it.

She doesn't recognize the guy at the bar. Normally this doesn't mean anything, as there are plenty of people who come here she hasn't met. But the combination of sorting through cash and talking to the room at large rather than to Bar herself gives Dinah the suspicion that maybe, probably, this isn't someone that used to the place.

"She'll also run a tab for you, if you don't have the cash on you now. First drink is on the house."

[runningred]

"She?" He glances back to the bar, looking for a bartender of some kind. "Must be a pretty impressive joint to be tooled up for parts as well as drinks."

He looks her over, not in an overt 'checking her out' kind of way so much as automatically sizing up anyone new he meets. "You look like a bit of a grease monkey yourself. Is there a garage somewhere around I can drag the bike. She's pretty burnt out.

"I'm okay for cash, just not sure what the local currency is." He stashes the wallet, a little pissed with himself for getting caught out checking his supplies. "Been travelling a while and came through one hell of a dust storm getting here. Not 100% where here is."

[raptorcanaria]

Dinah cheerfully pats the surface of the bar in front of her. "I am reliably informed that this bar is both a sentient being and female," she says, in the casual tone of a woman who grew up with six impossible uncles.

"She'll take any currency you give her. I have no idea what the exchange rate is but I think it depends on your where and when."

She pauses, scratches the back of her neck, aware that most people aren't familiar with having to append a 'where and when' to their usual conversations.

"'Here' is the end of the universe. It's a sort of between-worlds thing which is why you probably ended up here rather than wherever you intended to be. This is your first time, right?"

She'd be mortified if she found herself giving the 'first time' talk to an old hand.

[runningred]

"If a bike can be female, why not a bar." Jason mutters resignedly, touching the surface of the bar rather gently. "In which case, mind if I have a brew? Whatever's local and good."

He cocks his head at the where and when, watching her face for some clue as to what that's meant to mean. He shakes his head as she explains. "So this is a multi-verse thing? Awesome! Just fuc-" He cuts himself off, pacing away a few steps, scuffing his boots on the floor. "I guess when I took off to 'anywhere but here' I should have been more specific!"

[raptorcanaria]

Dinah offers him a dry grin, the facial equivalent of a sarcastic thumbs-up. She's leaning against the bar, having decided not to take a seat if she's about to head downstairs again. When the beer appears on the bartop she pushes it towards Jason encouragingly.

"Let this be a lesson to you about being careful what you wish for. The bright side is, the number of times something has tried to kill me here is still lower than Star City."

With Urquhart still warm in his metaphorical grave, she can't say Milliways is safe. But she was fighting for her life against the Floronic Man at the time. The ratio of life threatening experiences is still in the bar's favour.

"It's called Milliways. And there is a garage downstairs if you need to stash your baby somewhere."

[runningred]

He looks at the beer for a moment without taking it, trying to work out the best way to thank a sentient lady bar. In the end he settles for petting the wood gingerly. "Thanks... miss?" He takes a sip, followed by a gulp. "Damn, that's good." Wow, that bottle got empty quick.

"Yeah well, wasn't exactly thinking straight at the time." Getting kicked out of a clandestine warrior tribe is harder than it looks and the results are unpredictable.

"So your a Star City girl? That's gotta make anywhere but Gotham safer." He mentally flinches and kicks himself. Way to give yourself away, Todd!

He tries to cover by changing the subject and fast. "Mind showing me the way to the garage? I'd love to get her cleaned up a bit before the dust starts to make her seize. Her air filters are beyond hope but the radiator might survive."

[raptorcanaria]

"Do you want to bring her with or check out the facilities first?"
Dinah jerks her head towards the elevator before she turns and heads right back in that direction, trusting him to follow.

"Only recently. I grew up in Gotham, but the insurance premiums there are through the roof. There's still a sizaeble robbery risk in Star City but at least there aren't separate policies for whether or not your robbers are wearing costumes."

She debates warning him that not every person here will have heard of Gotham or Star City, but decides that one weird thing at a time is best, and the garage would fill any normal person's weirdness quota for an evening, even a native Gothamite.

[runningred]

"Sounds like she's safe enough for now." Besides, anyone who can get her to start right now deserves a medal. He follows her readily enough, scoping the place out as he goes. Never know when you might need to know where the exits are.

He hesitants at that. If she knows the costumed crowd of Gotham, there's a risk she'll know him. Or at least off him. "Yeah well. Gotham can be kinda messed up like that."

Yeah, one brain-blowing moment at a time. He's still dealing with the alive bar. Having skulled that beer is helping though.

[raptorcanaria]

Then he might not want to hear what comes next, but Dinah is at least working on the principle that he's a Gothamite and therefore has a higher threshold of weird than most denizens of the multiverse.

"It's not like anything can happen to it while you're here, anyway. Time doesn't pass outside while you're here."

She leads him into the elevator, a large, service style contraption that would easily take a small car if needed, and leans against the wall by the buttons.

"I'm Dinah, by the way."

She doesn't recognise him in the slightest, but that doesn't mean he isn't from one of her many possible futures or alternate works. She figured if he does know her, he'll bring it up. Apparently secret identities will be mere formalities in her future.

[runningred]

*Blink. Blink blink* Okay, digesting that one. "So time slipped multi-verse. Okay then. Well I don't have to worry about anyone hunting me down while I'm here at least." That's a relief. He can take his time and clear his head without having to watch his back.

"Jay." He doesn't add a last name. After all, she didn't share hers. He has a feeling he should know her but until that clicks, he lets it drop. "So what's a Star City girl doing in a crazy-ass place like this?"

[raptorcanaria]

"I'm head gardener," Dinah says, nodding up as the elevator descends, indicating vaguely towards the lake door and the garden beyond. "I'm a florist back home, so the skills are different, but I still get to work with flowers."

His first sentence has her giving him a quick look over, appraising what it might be that makes people want to hunt him down. She doesn't ask about it yet. If he wants to share, he will.

If he doesn't want to share, asking won't help.

[street_sparrow]

"Bar can give you just about anything", Gavroche says helpfully. "Long as it's not alive."

[runningred]

"The bar?" He glances around, looking for a bartender or something. "So this place is like the local general store or something? Sounds like a good place to know." He shakes his head, road dirt clinging to his hair.

[street_sparrow]

"More or less. And you don't need a bartender - it's all automated."

Well, sort of. It's a good way to ease the newcomer into things.

[runningred]

"An automated bar. That sounds dangerous." On the upside, no-one to cut him off if he's on a bender. "So how does it work? I just order a brew and leave the cash on the bar?"

[street_sparrow]

"Exactly. The cash will be taken, and whatever you asked for will appear. Or you can run a tab, and the first one's free anyway."

[runningred]

He sorts out enough money for an extra drink and sits it on the bar, feeling kinda silly. "Bourbon, straight up and something for my friend here."

He nods to the young man. "So has this place got a name?"

[street_sparrow]

Bar supplies the bourbon and Gavroche's preferred drink.

"Milliways", Gavroche tells him. "And I should tell you, it's... not your average roadside bar."

[runningred]

Jay laughs. "Yeah, I'm getting that. Automated bar, interesting dress code and the fact I was in the middle of a Tunisian dust storm ten minutes ago and now I'm here. I'm gunna guess multiverse?" After all, he was trained by the greatest detective of his age, even if he did spend more time punching things than playing attention to clues.

[street_sparrow]

"...well, that saves on explanations." He grins. "Multiverse as in all the universes, and outside of time."

[runningred]

"Fucking awesome." Jay mutters sarcastically and throws more money on the bar for another round. "I guess it beats dying in a dust storm. So, this place got room for people to stay? If I'm outside time, at least I can work on my bike before I go back out there. She's due for an overhaul."

[damncompass]

"Try Bar?" A guy in a used-to-be-white t-shirt (it's now vaguely stained purple) and jeans walks over from a table. "My sister re-built a car in the garage here, and I think she mostly got parts from the bar. No clue where she got her tools, though."

[runningred]

"There a garage here? Nice. My bike's kinda... screwed. Gunna take me a few days to get her running again. Think your sis'd lend me some tools? I can pay or whatever."

He looks the guy over, checking out the purple stains. "You an artist or something?"

[damncompass]

"I can ask her where she got the tools, but for all I know they're in the garage itself. If she has them somewhere, I can ask and get them to you later." he smiles. "And really, I doubt she'd charge you anything. It's just a lend of tools, after all."

He shrugs, waving it off, and looking down at the pathetic state of his shirt. "Oh, uh. No. I'm a scientist. The purple's from the remnants of the goo I use to help with my experiments." He holds out a (mercifully goo-free) hand. "Joshua Donovan, good to meet you."

[runningred]

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that." He's still a little wary. People rarely help out without wanting something in return, in his experience.

He hesitants for a moment before taking Joshua's hand, mostly because he's sorting through alias to work out what to use. In the end he gives up and uses his own name, at least a version of it. "Jay. Nice to meet you." He gestures to the purple. "So, trying to invent a better grape zesti?"