milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's a quiet day in Central City. No dead bodies have dropped to call Barry into his day job, and a quick zip around the city yields only a mugger and one jaywalker who would've been pancaked by a garbage truck if 'The Streak' hadn't been there to rush him to the safety of the sidewalk.

(Seriously, he needs a better superhero name.)

With things so chill at home Barry is glad when he finds Milliways in his apartment. He was looking for something to eat, but the fridge and cupboards in his place are bare.

Obviously it's time for him to join Costco or something, but in the meantime...

"Hey, Bar," he greets the counter, sliding onto a stool wearing blue jeans and a sweatshirt. "Can I get a-- "

A platter appears with deli meats and cheeses all cut down to fit on the accompanying Ritz crackers. It's the type of tray usually made to feed small armies of party guests.

"--snack."

Barry grins and while he starts assembling cracker sandwiches, Bar produces a chocolate milkshake; which earns a wary glance from Barry, but he soon discovers this one isn't a protein ruse.

[ooc: Here all day, and this will be open through the weekend.]

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"Why was he cold?" Chirrut frowns, confused. He may have been reckless in his time, but keeping yourself warm was... a basic concern. This illegal hero wasn't going to last long with frostbite.

Whoops, slang confusion, but it's okay, as a young man he's used to translating, usually for the older generation, and usually for Joe.

"Boss is like really great, and cool isn't in reference to temperature, it's like a state of being. When you're cool, you can handle whatever comes your way, with style."

Barry does his best impression of cool, trailing his voice and slicking back the sides of his hair with his hands. It's for the two others to decide if he actually pulls it off and gets the point across.

"And ninjas, they're like... warriors with mad, that uh means really good, stealth and fighting skills. They can attack from nowhere and disappear. Take out any opponent, and supposedly have no fear."

Technically they are of an older generation than Barry, so translating makes sense for more reason than one.

Baze brightens with an easy smile. "Chirrut is cool, then," Baze says, glancing at his friend. "And by that definition, he's also a ninja."

Chirrut acknowledges that he is, indeed, a cool ninja with a wave of a buttery cracker.

"Likewise, or almost - you'll be there again before too long." Chirrut is a stubborn man. He will get Baze back up to the standard the temple held them to, no matter what. "Are there not many ninjas in your world, Barry?"

"You two are definitely both cool," Barry assures them.

"You guys fight and disappear?" he asks with a smile. Baze fighting is easy to see, but even Chirrut has an air about him like he could do something. They did say they were guardians, and that staff looks like it's more than just a cane or walking stick.

"Mostly only in the movies," he says with a chuckle about the ninjas, not aware just how often Oliver has had to, and will continue to, deal with them.

"Thanks, Barry. If we're doing our job right, we melt--well, we melted--back into the crowd," Baze says, with a hearty chuckle. "Chirrut here often disguised himself as a beggar. 'May the Force of others be with you!' he'd call out, pandering for credits--but mostly keeping an ear to the ground for information."

Baze is inordinately fond of his friend, and proud, too. It shows in every line he speaks, in every gesture he makes, in the way his hand easily falls upon Chirrut's shoulder for a squeeze.

"No one would spot Baze until he moved - and if you were a stormtrooper, that would be the last thing you'd see." Chirrut shoots Baze a (slightly off-target) exasperated look, a 'do you hear the ridiculousness I have to put up with from this man' expression that has had a lot of practice over the years. "Of course, after that things became very exciting, what with the explosions."

"Sounds like you guys got into a lot of action and exciting stuff," Barry says with a grin.

And the friendship and admiration between them is the best. Total BF goals.

"On occasion," Baze says, tapping the side of his nose. "What about you, Barry? Do you ever see action?"

"I've never seen action, myself." Chirrut offers innocently. "In case you are worried it's a competition."

Barry chuckles, feeling it's okay since Chirrut is the one who made the crack.

So, he's been practicing this, mostly in conversations with Iris, and now he's going to try his hand at denial, something he's not exactly great at.

"Not so much," he replies, and managing to suppress his usual trademark awkward shrug. "I work for the police department, but as a civilian forensics assistant. Usually the action is done by the time I get there."

Barry chuckles, and Baze appreciates that. Few people seem to get Chirrut's sense of humor in heaven, which is strange to Baze because he thinks his friend is hilarious, and refuses to admit to any biases.

"Civilian forensics assistant?" Baze says, cocking his head to the side. "I have no idea what that is."

Chirrut frowns, a little, cocking his head. Something sounds... off. He can't tell what, the Force either having no opinion about the matter or not caring to give it to him. It isn't as if he's going to hound the man - if he wants to say he stays out of trouble, so be it.

"Well, we know civilian, and assistant - but the forensics is new." Chirrut agrees, stealing another few crackers.

Barry catches the head motion and expression and it makes him slightly nervous, and also feel guilty. These guys have been great, but Barry still hasn't figured out or decided what he should and shouldn't say to other people about what he does on his side of the door or his abilities.

Sticking to explanations, which they've already said he's pretty good at, Barry replies, "It's okay, a lot of people don't. And what they think they know they get off of television and that's not really very accurate."

Barry totally doesn't live CSI: Miami, New York, Vegas or wherever.

"I investigate crime scenes. When a murder or other crime happens I check out the scene, looking for clues and putting together evidence to help the detectives on the case figure out what happened and hopefully identify and catch who did it."

"What's television?" Baze says, taking a gulp of his now-cooled hot chocolate. "And your job sounds important. There wasn't a formal investigative team on Jedha, really. I know the Jedi used to use the Force to help inspectors on Coruscant, but that planet's in the Core, and things were run differently out in the Mid-Rim."

"Sometimes to the point of being non-functional. That's why there were Guardians on Jedha - we kept the pilgrims safe as well as the kyber. Usually our presence was enough of a deterrent."

Usually.

If it wasn't, then they would prove why there were still Guardians on Jedha in the first place.

"It helps families and friends to have answers. I might not be able to stop something that's already happened, but I can work to give them closure, at least."

It's certainly something he would like to have someday.

Not letting his thoughts drift down that path too far, he goes back to answering their questions.

"Moving pictures in a box?" he says, working out how to explain TV. "Video on a small screen with shows and stories for entertainment, or news and events. It's a communication device, but it only works one way. The broadcast goes out and you watch."

"Closure is incredibly important," Baze says, with a firm nod. "Good for you. That sounds like a difficult job to do."

Baze's expression clears into one of understanding. "Oh, so it's like a holoprojector. Sort of. We had the HoloNet back home, which had all manner of stories and news. It was largely Empire-controlled, so it was flooded with propaganda. Hey, Chirrut, remember the holoprojector back at the temple you toasted?"

"No one can prove that was me." Chirrut's smile has meandered back into the 'so much crap I put up with' range, but that has more to do with the holoprojector itself than any accusations of sabotage.

Kriffing straight he fried it. He only wishes he did it sooner.

Edited 2017-05-06 07:10 (UTC)

"It can be, some days," he admits, "But I'm proud to do it, because it is important." For many reasons.

Barry smiles and nods when Baze gets television, then laughs at Chirrut.

"Probably just some malfunction," he suggests with a knowing grin.

"Yeah, if you consider dropping it off the roof of the temple a malfunction," Baze says sourly, folding his arms. "I still don't know how you got up there. Or down."

Baze pats the bar gratefully when she replenishes his hot chocolate. "How did you get into forensics?"

"Well, maybe if you had Barry there, you'd know." Chirrut retorts, unrepentant after all these years.

That is both a difficult answer and story, and Barry's expression may betray that some.

He let's himself smile at Chirrut's reply to Baze, and finishes off his milkshake; declining another before Bar can produce one.

"In college I majored in physics and chemistry," he says, keeping his tone easy. "I pretty much always knew I wanted to be a scientist. I chose forensics because I wanted to learn and get good at putting together evidence and solving cases."

He rubs his hands together, taking a slow breath. "You see, when I was a kid my mother was murdered, and uh, the police they-- they never figured out who did it."

"Oh, Barry, I'm so sorry," Baze says, reaching out to clasp his shoulder companionably. The older man offers the younger one's shoulder a squeeze, and then releases him. "Our condolences for your loss. I hope you can find some closure for it."

Base takes a sip of his hot chocolate. "So you've known what you wanted to do since you were a child, eh? That's rare."

Chirrut's hand is a split second behind Baze's, his face creased in concern. He nods at Baze's condolences, seconding the sentiment.

Though his follow-up comment earns a snicker.

"Well, for some of us, temple brat."