just when you thought a second was a second...

[visible_sariel]

"It's *what* day, locally?"

That'd be a yelp from the woman in Starfleet reds who's just walked through the front door. Bar's answering note produces not just a facepalm, but a couple disbelieving seconds of that woman, clearly dismayed, actively covering her face with both hands. What she says is still intelligible, if a bit muffled, assuming you speak the language (thank you, translation field). "[I know it isn't, but I genuinely wish this were a practical joke...]"

There' might also be a muttered curse or two in there, after she's dropped her arms to her sides. Ahem.

Welcome back, Sariel Rager. It has not, at least in local chronological fact, been a week and a half.

((OOC: Er, also welcome back Chanter? :) I'm around all evening, barring laundry. And now I'm falling asleep. I say sorry, folken! Can we pick up tomorrow?))

Comments

[angry_friendship_wolf]

[ooc: Hi! Welcome back! Bending millitime a little since Yamato is technically out of the bar right now.]

"Got blindsided by the bar's time shenanigans?" Yamato asks, wryly but not without sympathy, from a little way down the Bar.

[visible_sariel]

((OOC: Wibbly wobbly timey wimey funtimes! Your latest OOM was fabulous, by the way. Now eagerly awaiting when/if Sora's crest activates. And was Meicoomon's reaction the prelude to something...))

"Again," Sariel says, sounding somewhere between still distressed and resigned. "You would think I'd have learned never to assume dimensional calendars would synch."

[angry_friendship_wolf]

[ooc: Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it.]

"No such luck here, I'm afraid," Yamato says, with a quick grimace. "Need a drink? The Bar still sells some pretty good alcohol, at least."

None of which Yamato is allowed to have, but details, details.

[visible_sariel]

"You, too?" The look Yamato's getting is definitely on the commiserating side. "Oddly enough, it isn't as comforting as it probably should be to know I'm not the only one potentially missing months at a stretch, because it means someone else has had local time vary on them." Which stinks, if you have friends from elseworld, but Sariel's not quite saying that outright just yet.

"At least the conventions haven't changed. I--" Bar, unprompted (at least verbally), pops up a steaming teapot and a couple of serviceable mugs.

[angry_friendship_wolf]

"On occasion. My timeline's a little tangled up here. Sometimes it's eleven year old me that comes here for a stretch of time," Yamato says. "There's a few people here who I've had to re-meet after they've gotten to know me as a small child."

[visible_sariel]

One of those mugs Bar clearly, or at least reasonably clearly, meant for Yamato. Sariel takes the hint, pours her own - ooooh, it suddenly smells like ginger in this corner of the end of the multiverse - and then nudges the second Ishida's way. "It looks like Bar intends this to be shared, if you're interested in--oh, that's odd, or maybe it technically isn't? Not the tea," she clarifies quickly, "the younger versions of ourselves finding this place. I have a few memories of coming here as a small child. I couldn't tell you if anyone I met then knows me currently, though."

Not the white cat. That was an AU. Darn.

[angry_friendship_wolf]

"My memories of coming here as a kid are pretty blurry and muddled, but there's at least one person who I managed to get off on spectacularly the wrong foot with."

He pours himself some tea, sniffing it quickly.

"I know a few people have come here as kids. I alternate back and forth."

[visible_sariel]

Sneezing would be bad at this moment in time, Yamato. Ah-hem. Forgive the mun the whimsy.

"As far as I can remember, I didn't annoy anyone too badly--haven't annoyed anyone badly yet? Temporal theory was never my strongest subject... I vaguely recall meeting someone who may have been a ghost, but I don't know if that's down to being seven at the time, or whether he truly was."

That tea's not too hot to sip, thank goodness, and Sariel does just that before continuing. "This is usually my age when I find a door. Assuming I do." Grimace. "They're unstable, at least at my end, dimensionally."

[angry_friendship_wolf]

"Ghosts definitely aren't real, definitely. Even here. Dead people here don't -- don't count as ghosts."

Yamato is very insistent on that point.

"My sympathies. An unstable door must suck. I can usually find at least one, wherever I go."

[childofrebellion]

The wind pushes Cassian through the door and he curses, holding his leather jacket closed as he comes into Milliways. He runs his hand through his hair to neaten it as he doublechecks the simple bag at his side, his blaster is secure inside.

When he reaches the counter, he allows himself a small sigh of relief, wind makes everything worse and turns when he hears Sariel speak, he's heard that language before. When he turns, she looks familiar and he says, "What's wrong?"

A hot caf appears in front of him from Bar.

[visible_sariel]

This person is... vaguely familiar? Why is that accent ringing faint mental bells?

"Nothing life-threatening--" pause, "--at least that I'm aware of." That's going to bear some investigating, just to be sure; it *has* been a distressingly long time since she's seen, say, River or Harding, let alone Will. "My universe's ten days was closer to months here, and I had no way of knowing."

[childofrebellion]

At the life threatening, he does a quick scan of the room before resting back on her,

"Kriff, that's strange. I've heard other people here mention that happening to them when they come here. My time difference has never been that large."

[visible_sariel]

"It isn't pleasant," Sariel affirms - why are this person's speech patterns sounding so oddly familiar? "It's not the first time I've dealt with a wide variation, either. I should have at least braced for the possibility." That's not entirely self-recrimination; sounds more like half that, half resignation.

Wait a second. Why would a presumed swear word of unknown origin sound like something she's previously heard...

[childofrebellion]

"Milliways is always changing its variables. Which is where I think we last met when there was an issue with the translator. I'm Cassian,"

He offers her a nod and his hand.

[visible_sariel]

The translator. The... Oh!

Cue dawning look of comprehension. Cue also acceptance of the offered handshake, because of course.

"That was you? The day the translation matrix failed for the entire bar? I wondered why you sounded familiar! Sariel Rager." Rank is left off, for now.

[childofrebellion]

His hands have callouses from little electric burns and his blaster, "The language you were speaking when I sat down was what you were speaking then. Good to meet you."

[visible_sariel]

"You, too, now that we can understand each other properly." Sariel's own hands aren't roughened in particular, but neither are they entirely unused to work and play. Short, neat fingernails, if that's of note, and an absence of jewelry, and unlike her mun's, her fingers are not freezing.

"I... remember this," she says, "if not terribly well. You were speaking something else yourself that day, weren't you? While I was speaking Kweyol at first?"

[mogget_cat]

(ooc: Yes! Welcome back, Chanter!)

The mildly distressed woman at the bar might be interested to hear that purring not'cats are, on occasion, effective woe-shields. They can be satisfactory doom-shields, as well, if there's a need. (Doom-bringers, too, though not usually for people they like.)

They also make effective foot-warmers. This one here might be giving a demonstration.



At least her feet will be warm?

[visible_sariel]

Indeed, purring notcats are spectacular woe-shields. Certain spacefaring ensigns can (horrible night when the captain was briefly reassigned) attest to this personally. Purrsonally, even.

What's that warm weight settling on her boot-- "Yrael!"

Pardon the squeak. Also the thousand Watt smile. And the scritches? Because there can absolutely be scritches. Give her just a second to get properly to floor level.

((OOC: Eeeeee wei! :D))

[mogget_cat]

He will pardon every squeak and bask in every thousand-watt smile, purring up a storm from seeing his friend again (and from all the scritches).

"Sarrrrriel," the not'cat mwrrs, pressing its chin down on her fingers and purring with enthusiasm. "You return!"

[visible_sariel]

It's official: A purring notcat can knock a Starfleet officer to the floor. Without a shapeshift, even!

There are absolutely continued scritches. There is also continued beaming, because of course. "After what was only a week and a half, locally," she explains, and it's very difficult indeed to sound properly miffed when also delighted by a reunion with a friend. "The calendar ambushed me as much as the door."

[mogget_cat]

The strength of his purr is like a cat of much greater size, vibrating strongly throughout his shape. "You are not alone in having had the wonderful experience of being greeted with a temporal disconnect upon returning to the bar. Once, I spent nearly two decades in the world from which I come, unable to find a way here. When I found my way here once again, I came in to find only a week and a half had passed here."

[visible_sariel]

Purrs are marvelous things. This is established fact. The louder the purr, the more likely to melt the person lucky enough to receive it! ... The mun is projecting again.

"Two decades? ... My lord. Now my situation seems like nothing at all. Months passing at the end of the universe hardly compares."

[mogget_cat]

"Oh, it was a dark time indeed, but my joy upon finding this place again was all the stronger for it," he mwrrs, leaf-green eyes half-closing in pleasure.

"It has been a relatively sleepy winter here, or at least I have been having a sleepy winter. I do not care for the cold, and napping in front of the fireplace is a favorite way to spend the cold months. How have you spent your week and a half?"

[visible_sariel]

"I've lost doors before, but never for that length of time. Twenty years still sounds... I can barely imagine it." Gene's four-year absence sounds enough of a chasm, to her, and that's in retrospect. Not that Yrael can know this.

"I've spent most of my week and a half between missions; we haven't been given our next orders yet."

There is, just for the record, a wide open armchair somewhat nearer the fireplace than current position. It miiiiight just be prime real estate for the notcat and the human. Not that the human's spotted it yet, but if the notcat's aware...