(no subject)

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

The green bagel on Barry's plate was a dead giveaway. It was St. Patrick's Day. And the bar was being funny.

Barry, in costume today but with the cowl down, found himself remembering the breakfasts before half the cops went to either watch over or march in the parade. Every year, Sgt. Fay, Sgt. O'Neil and Officer Murphy would bring in their wives' soda bread and hold a taste test. Barry never could tell the difference, but all threee swore by each wife's taste of Eire.

He took the bagel and his coffee to the back of the bar, and sat to think. To think about how he has a granddaughter who's also a hero. To think about how Bart seems so mercurial. And to think about Sara. Was she really flirting with him? Was he really flirting back? Should he be doing this? Is it too soon? Will it ever not be "too soon?"

He was confused. He didn't like confused. So he just sat back to eat his bagel.

[ooc: usual work-enforced slow-time advisory.]

Comments

[gone_byebye]

Ray's concession to the holiday takes the form of deliberately wearing the Incredible Hulk slippers. Irish was never really his thing. He trudges into the main room of the Bar, yawning and rubbing at his face with the heel of one hand.

Do not ask what the bar gives him when he asks for coffee. You really don't want to know.

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"Good morning, Ray.

"Ah, green slippers. But didn't you hear? This year is Green Lantern's turn to be marshal of the parade." Barry smiles at the fairly obscure joke from an SNL sketch where Dan Aykroyd played the Flash!).

"My advice? Ask the bar for something more specific. The food coloring in the bagel is not a good additive. And this doesn't taste like a New York bagel."

[gone_byebye]

Ray blinks at him a little, looking down at the superhero's plate. "Is it? I didn't know they had a parade here..." He shakes his head. "Nothing tastes like a New York bagel," he says more firmly. "I'll bet you a Euro they didn't even boil it. Probably just used steam blasts inside the oven, which are nice but don't produce a proper exterior texture."

He sips his coffee, then blinks some more and sniffs at the mug. "What the..."

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"No, nothing tastes like a New York bagel. Well, maybe a Gotham bagel on a really good day.

"A Euro? What's that?

"And for that matter, what's wrong with your coffee?"

[gone_byebye]

"After your time, I guess." Ray sets his mug down and thumps into a chair. "By 2003 most of the countries in western Europe, and several of the eastern ones, have formed a supra-national government called the European Union. They, uh, started using a currency called the Euro in 2002, and got rid of their old individual currencies. It's worth around a dollar, or it was when I left, anyway."

He sniffs his coffee again, then sticks a finger in it, withdrawing it to peer at the substance curiously. "The last time I saw coffee that looked like this was in the movie I Come In Peace," he says, eyes on the slow-moving droplet. "And the last time I tasted coffee like this, Egon had bombarded the beans with ionizing radiation before grinding them up. Huh.

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"And the bar gave it to you that way? I'd talk to Richard, or Bernard. And I'd dump it."

[gone_byebye]

"No, it's okay." Ray downs a big swallow of it. "The radiation wears off after a couple of minutes, before the beans get brewed. It's an old trick the Japanese use to improve the quality of bad whiskey." If by 'the Japanese' you mean 'two nuclear physicists Ray knows who have way too much time on their hands', anyway. "Works much better than going to all the trouble of luwak coffee, and a lot less expensive. Anyway. Good morning. Did I say that yet?"

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"I have no idea. You lost me with the radioactive coffee.

"Was that your way of saying it's really Irish coffee? Or do I have too much green bagel on the brain?"

[gone_byebye]

"It's not radioactive. Any more than you would be several hours after an X-ray. The radiation causes a number of alterations in the volatile organic compounds inside the beans, the way it does to human DNA. Since there's no radioactive material being injected into the beans themselves, the associated nuclear particles decay pretty quickly and that's the end of that."

He takes another pull at the coffee. "Pretty close to Irish coffee, yeah," he says. It's not really the most accurate description but he's come far enough awake to not want to be cruel to a man he considers a friend. "But it tastes better than normal, and it's a lot stronger than normal. The guy in I Come in Peace had a rig the size of a small bathroom to process his coffee for him. This stuff looks like the end result, so I'm going to assume it's roughly the same process and not think about it too much, since it's doing a great job of making up for my lack of REM sleep."

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"Ahhhh. So we get to the bottom of the matter.

"First off, I would stick with Irish coffee. At least today.

"Second, you don't need me to tell you that this is not a solution. You would be better off finding out why you aren't dreaming. You know that too.

"So I won't preach about the evils of coffee. I'll ask if you have any clue as to what the problem is."

[gone_byebye]

"I know why I"m not dreaming," Ray says patiently. "It's because I wasn't sleeping. You can't get into the REM portion of the sleep cycle if you're only out for two hours- the human sleep rhythm requires at least a hundred and eighty minutes of consecutive downtime to achieve the proper set of brain waves in each phase. That's why it's better to sleep for three hours than five. You're not in mid-cycle. And before you ask, I slept for two hours because I spent the rest of that time trying to send Washu's device back... it's supposed to respond to voice commands, but my Japanese accent is terrible, and it wouldn't open the portal to take itself back to her. About all I managed to get it to do is this."

He reaches into a pocket and drops a book in front of Flash. The cover says The Gods of Mars, by Edgar Rice Burroughs. If Flash opens the book, the text is that of Lo!, by Charles Fort.

"The thing won't take a simple command like 'go home', but it will transmogrify one of my favorite childhood books into another on cue."

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"Oh dear." He's not happy, but at least Ray was trying to do the right thing. At first.

"I'm not thrilled with a transmogrification device, to be honest. But I appreciate that you ar being smart about the thing in the first place. Really.

"I hope you have your room locked. Around here, someone could use that for the same kind of mischief I was afraid of with this device in its other mode. It's one thing if Meg wants to become a dragon, lord knows why. It's another if it happens against someone's will. Or if someone uses it to make lead into gold.

"Perhaps you need to find a Japanes speaking patron?"

[gone_byebye]

"Yeah, my room's locked," Ray says. "Washu keyed it to all of my bio-signs, though. Voice, retinal scan, respiration, pulse rate, you name it. I think that's the problem. I'm pretty sure I’m getting my inflections right, but it won't operate without my pulse and stuff being in exactly the same state as they were when I first made contact with it. She also keyed it to the mental state of any intelligences involved- all three people have to be willing, and their biosigns have to indicate that none of us are under duress. I believe it works on the books because there are no biosigns or mental indications of anything whatsoever." He rubs at his face and finishes off his coffee. "I may look for someone who speaks Japanese, though. At least they can correct my pronunciation if I'm getting it wrong. It seems to be happy with my pronunciation of a few words, though- open, follow me, stay here, things like that."

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

"Hello, Flash!"

Asar-Suti comes out of the building site for the staff quarters (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/3654190.html) for a short break and notices the Cotumed Hero with his green pastry.

"That's not a normal colour for bread, though?" he asks.

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"Good morning, Suti.

"No, it's not. But the day is apparently March 17 on Earth - or here, I'm not really sure. And that's a day when the people of Ireland - a country on Earth - celebrate their heritage. The national color is green, so everyone who celebrates wears green. And some bars and restaurants like to color the food accordingly.

"The bar, it seems, like the Irish."

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

"Oh, Ireland, yes, I have heard of it." Asar-Suti nods enthusiastically.

"In fact, there's an equivalent on my home world, called Erinn. So if I meet Blais today, who's from Erinn, I should probably stand him a mug of green ale or something?"

And then some - Asar-Suti muses that he hasn't seen Blais for entirely too long a time.

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"Only if the green is not as fake as this is. And if he's a proud Erinnite.

"I know a few Earthers who hate the day. It's often a celebration of Irish ale and whiskey rather than irish culture. Though the cops I knew loved it, and made a party of sorts."

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

"Oh, he's a proud Erinnishman, a proud Cheysuli warrior, and a a very laid-back fellow in general; I am sure he'll try anything that can get you drunk. He likes his drink and his wenches, which is rather Erinnish of him, and Irish was well, if I get that right."

Asar-Suti shrugs; any cultural holiday can descend to an excuse for getting legless, can it?

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"That's a fairly traditional Irish attitude, yes." A traditional human one as well, he thinks.

"Though officially the day is connected to a saint called Patrick. Certainly the wenching would be frowned upon by the churchmen."

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

"And getting stinking drunk is nor?"

Asar-Suti grins. "And our Erinn is a bit like Ireland used to be before there were any churchmen. Churchmen aren't invented on our world yet."

Asar-Suti might add that the ancient Irish churchmen were much more laid-back than the modern ones, if he knew that, which he doesn't; also, he luckily doesn't know that it is he who embodies some sort of evil projection of said churchmen, in his world. So, two nice explanation that go unexplained.

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"Officially, it's not permitted, either, but my friends on the force used to tell me that theri parish priests knew a few things about how to get drunk and not lose sight of the holy orders.

"Though I'm skeptical.

"I wouldn't say your world is better off without churchmen - a truly religious man is often an asset to the community. But the churches on Earth, like any large organization, have a way of becoming rather empty."

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

"I know - I have researched Earth religions, especially Christianity, around Christmas. I even went to a religious ceremony (http://www.livejournal.com/users/asar_suti/4855.html) on Earth during that holiday."

Asar-Suti shrugs. "And our world didn't have churchmen, but we had other religions - the Cheysuli had their gods, and the Ihlini had, well, me, and the Erinnish had some totally different powers again..."

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

"Christmastime on Earth can be beautiful, but I tend to find the relgious ceremonies less meaningful than the family events. Used to always have dinner with my predecessor and his wife. That meant more than all the services, or the gifts.

"Dare I ask if anyone worshipped you?"

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

Asar-Suti makes a face, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes - but grinning as well, to show he's not really angry at all.

"Of course they worshipped me! They served me, abjectly, did my bidding, and drank my 'blood', as they called the essence that contained and conferred my magic. I had some very nice and dedicated worshippers, thank you!"

Asar-Suti laughs, and notes, with something of astonishment, that the thought doesn't make him melancholy at all.

"Christmas is much nicer, though. We were a bit austere - purple flames, and an underground hall of black glass columns, and everything very numinous."

[silverageflash.livejournal.com]

Barry laughs along with Suti, but shudders a little. At some level, it isn't so easy to tlak to evena jovial reformed dark god. The air certainly crackles with a tiny bit of lost but nto forgotten power.

"A friend actually suggested that in this costume, I could pass for Santa Claus, with the beard added. Did you encounter the legend of Santa?"