First Entry

[has_it]

The front door of Milliways often opens to strange places. But today, it opens to the sidewalk of a busy city street, like a normal bar might. A woman steps through, dressed smartly in the kind of timeless but fashionable business wear that never really goes out of style. The conservative, grey pinstripe pencil skirt contrasts with the deep red of her silk blouse and the red that flashes from underneath her black heels. She had been deep in conversation on her slim, black smartphone, but she and her words pause when she sees where the door has taken her.

Someplace new.

"Derek? I'll have to call you back," the woman says absently, hanging up with the poor underling on the other side still in mid-sentence. She removes her dark sunglasses as she looks across the room, her wide eyes taking in the whole of the bar at once.

Interesting.

"Where am I?" she asks. "What is this place?"

Comments

[runningred]

Jay comes in from outside, shaking a dusting of snow out of his hair. He greets her with a warm smile. "Hey, first time." He gesture to the bar. "Drink first?"

[has_it]

Her wide eyes take him in, and the woman smiles at what she sees.

"Instead of the lobby of my building I suddenly find myself in a strange bar, with a handsome man offering me a drink," she muses, hesitant but appreciative. "Am I dreaming, or am I dead, because I've heard you're not supposed to eat or drink in either dreams or the underworld..."

The peril, however, doesn't seem to be enough to keep her from tucking her sunglasses into the point of her blouse's neckline and stepping towards the bar the man gestures to.

"What would you suggest?"

[runningred]

"Welcome to Milliways - the Bar at the End of the Universe. You're not dreaming." He leaves the dead issue for now. After all, that has been known to happen. "And there's a particularly good scotch a friend introduced me to recently."

[has_it]

"Milliways," she breathes, turning the name over in her mouth as she ponders it. "I've heard of it, I think. Offer up six impossible things before breakfast and cows that ask which cut of steak you'd like, does it?"

The woman takes a seat at the bar, willing to play along in the interest of finding out more about the strange place she has found herself in.

"Particularly good scotch is never a thing to pass up," she allows, watching him with curiosity. "I'd like to try it."

[runningred]

"I'd offer myself as the first impossible thing but I'm only improbable." Jay flashes his best playboy grin. "And I've never seen the cows but the Rats do act as wait staff."

He orders two glasses of scotch which appear from nowhere on the bar. He very politely thanks said bar. "Welcome." He offers in toast. "I'm Jay, the bar's resident mechanic."

[has_it]

"Thank goodness for that," she replies with a matching grin. Improbable things are much more enjoyable than things that will never happen.

Her eyebrows quirk upwards in mild surprise at the appearance of the drinks, but a few moments after her hand meets the absolutely non-illusionary glass of scotch she too murmurs thanks to the bar. "A pleasure to meet you, Jay. I'm Hedda. Hedda Winchell."

[runningred]

"A pleasure, Hedda." He smiles warmly. "This is the Bar." He strokes the wood gently. "She's sentient, looks after everyone and has a wicked sense of humour. If in doubt, ask her. She's able to provide just about anything you need." He gestures to the tab board. "And fortunately, she runs everyone lines of credit."

"The rules are easy - No outside business - this is neutral territory so all baggage stays on the other side of the door. No violence. And keep anything adult to private areas. There are quite a few kids who come here so nothing they shouldn't see."

[cook_the_rude]

"Milliways, the bar at the end of the multiverse," says the gentleman drinking tea by the fireplace.

He is wearing a red sweater, and comfortable loafers; not exactly leisure wear, but as close to leisure wear as any proper gentleman of style will allow himself to get.

[has_it]

The woman tucks her sunglasses into the v of her blouse's neckline, stepping over with interest to see who had answered her.

"Milliways?" she echoes with a curious little smile, her intent gaze taking him in. "I think I've heard of it. Where one can find breakfast after experiencing six impossible things, and where the cattle asks you which cut of steak you'd like best?"

[cook_the_rude]

"They never asked me," the gentleman says, "but I did have dodo once. Welcome."

He stands, politely. "Can I offer you a seat and a drink?"

[has_it]

"I imagine dodo would easily count for one of the impossible things," she laughs lightly, the sound of her red-soled heels against the floor sharp in contrast as she steps over to accept the offer of a seat. "Yes, thank you. You're very kind."

"Though do tell me, how does one order a drink when there is no bartender?"

[cook_the_rude]

"From the bar herself, or from one of the passing waitrats," the gentleman says. "Allow me to do it for you. What would you like?"

[has_it]

"From the bar herself," the woman echoes, sounding fascinated. "I like that. Never have to vie for a busy bartender's attention again."

"Oh, but if the place has the kind of varied menu it is said to have, I imagine it can become difficult to narrow down one's choices," she smiles, tilting her head slightly as she considers. "I suppose it would be prudent to start with something familiar."

Though her smile says that prudence is for other people.

"What is your favorite of the wines they serve here?" she asks, looking intently at the gentleman. He looks, dresses, carries himself, speaks, and otherwise emits the kind of presence that suggests one who would know his wine.

[bwbw_aabb]

A rather small zebra, passing by,
offers this by way of reply:

"It is a bar and restaurant,
with all that one could ever want,
called Milliways, found at the end
of all the worlds. Be welcome, friend."

[has_it]

There's no disguising the look of mild surprise and interest, for the first talking zebra she has ever seen. It is so rare for her to see new things, and the last few moments have had multiple new encounters.

"Why, thank you for the welcome and the explanation," she says. "That was very kind."

Milliways. She has heard of such a place, but only in the context of fiction. So often it is the things you think are real that turn out to be fake. Rarely is it the other way around.

[bwbw_aabb]

"But of course. To come here is a thing
that at first can be quite startling.
To welcome new patrons and to guide
is a small help we can all provide."

[has_it]

"I very much appreciate the information," she replies, smiling. "I'll admit I was expecting the lobby of my building, not a bar, and certainly not one... at the end of all worlds."

The last words are slower, considering. But her look remains intent, interested.

"I assume this means that people from all sorts of different worlds have similar experiences when coming here? They are in their own worlds, living their lives, and suddenly a door does not lead where it usually does, but brings them here?"

[bwbw_aabb]

"Just so. For the most part, my own hut
is where I mean to be when I come here, but
once or twice I've arrived by way of the wood.
I do not complain, as the food's awfully good,
and the learning to be found in such a location
is worth a little disorientation."

[has_it]

"I bet it is," she agrees, looking around the room with a smile. With a practiced little motion, she tucks the pair of dark sunglasses into the V of her blouse's neckline. The prospects here are simply too good to pass up. "If the food is delicious and the company is interesting and the place is unexpected - what more could anyone want?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor glances up from his seat in the nearest booth, setting his empty teacup aside. He's a thin boy, packed with lean muscle, and sullen in expression. He tilts his head at the newcomer. "You're in Milliways, the bar at the end of the universe. Is this your first time here?"

[has_it]

The woman is dressed sharply, but in a mode that could fit into a handful of different decades with little effort. Her hairstyle, too, would pass in any number of decades from the later half of the twentieth century and well into the twenty first.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is," she answers, folding the earpieces of the sunglasses and turning her wide-eyed gaze and her slight smile towards him. "This was the door to my building a moment ago, not the door to a bar."

But her attention is drawn back to the bar room at large, its patrons, the rats scurrying around with serving trays. "Milliways, you say... I believe I've heard of it, if only though stories."

[herr_bookman]

"Really? You have heard of this place?" Autor says, furrowing his brow. "That's impressive. Well, your first drink is free. You can order from one of the waitrats or directly at Bar herself, who is magic and will serve you without the need for a tender."

[has_it]

"A setting from a story, I believe," she says, with a rueful little smile and a shake of her head to indicate that it is a vague memory and not one she recalls many details of. "I suppose a free drink is one way to help newcomers overcome the shock of arriving somewhere else than they intended to be."

Though the woman isn't looking particularly shocked, or anxious, or hesitant at all.

"Tell me - is it similar for all of the patrons here, that a door that normally leads somewhere else brought them here instead?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor inclines his head. "Yes, it's as you say. Usually a door brings people here, but sometimes the bar shows up n a wood or some unusual place," he says, adjusting his glasses. "If you can't see the door you came in from, you're Bound, or dead.. That sometimes happens. Can you see your door?"

[has_it]

She looks, then smiles at him. "Still there, looking deceptively like a completely normal door."