milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Wash is once again by the fireplace with his copy of Jurassic Park. He's curled the cover back on itself in a way that makes his book-loving mun wince, the better to try and hide the title; no use in scaring Dr. Malcolm if they happen to cross paths again.

The streak of paint from last night is still on his forehead, though it's quite smudged and much fainter. You'd think technology from five hundred years in the future would be better at getting that stuff off.

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"Whatcha reading?"

Wash glances up. "It's called Jurassic Park. Ever heard of it? Great book. Apparently not so much with the fiction, though."

With a smile, "Don't think we've met, have we?"

Iris grins. "Icy. I remember that book. I liked the compys best."

"No, I"m very new." And bound. "My name's Iris."

"Thought so. I'm Wash. Nice to meet you." He offers a hand. "And...sorry, the what?"

"Nice to meet you, Wash. You know about the paint right there?" Gestures to her own forehead.

"The little scavenger dinosaurs? The...er..."

Tries to remember. "Procompsognathids."

Is proud that she remembers. "They call them compys in the book."

Wash rubs his forehead, smiling wryly. "Yeah. I know. My wife so kindly informed me last night after she'd stopped laughing. I can't get it off."

And then he sighs in exasperation at himself and adds, "Right, right, those. Sorry. For some reason I was thinking compys, computers, I don't know, my brain's a weird and confusing place sometimes."

Meanwhile, his mun makes yet another mental note to read the bloody book already. *headsmack*

She chuckles. Aw. "Happens to the best of us. Are you an artist?"

"Understandable. I named my first computer Compy because of the little dinosaurs." Her older brother teased her relentlessly when he found out, but that's another story.

*patpat* Her mun has read that book more times than is sane.

"Artist?" He laughs. "Hell no. I'm a pilot. Best I can do with art is draw a mean stick figure and shatter small panes of glass when I try to sing. The paint's from the renovations they're doing back there." A gesture with the book in the vague direction of the staff quarters.

"I'm sure there's someone out there who has made a living drawing mean stick figures and shattering glass." Probably a super villain. Iris' father always had lame-ass villains.

She glances in the direction he indicates. "Icy. Are they finished painting? I'd be willing to help." One of the more useful aspects of being a speedster.

Apologetically, "Yeah, everything's pretty much done, I think. But you could try talking to Bernard -- you met him yet? 'Bout my height, red hair, wears black all the time, kind of the guy in charge around here?"

Shrugs. "I'll ask him. That's all right though. Maybe I'll paint my room."

He grins. "Or there's always that option.

"So where're you from?"

"Well, if I'm going to be living here, I might as well make the best of it."

"Late 21st century Earth."

"Another one? You people are everywhere." Clearly teasing, though. He wiggles further upright in his chair and adds, "Twenty-sixth century here. I despair at ever meeting someone from my time who's not on my crew."

Iris chuckles, not taking any offense considering he's teasing and anyway it's so very true. "You can never have too many."

Pats his shoulder before sitting down nearby. "Sorry, Wash. If I do find someone from that time, I'll make sure to let you know ASAP.

What's the twenty-sixth century like anyway?"

"In under ten words? Less with the Earth existing and more with the space travel." A beat as he does the mental arithmetic. "That's eleven words, isn't it. Damn. Anyway, we've moved out and colonised a bunch of other planets -- at least a couple systems' worth -- and like I've been telling everyone else, just 'cause the Earth's gone where I am doesn't mean it's going to go boom where you're from."

Rapidly adds up words on her fingers and nods. "Yeah, eleven."

Iris nods hesitantly. "Well, I haven't been here long but I've noticed that timelines get very screwed up here."

Wash snorts. "Don't need to tell me that. I'm not even going to get into the part where I was here for five days and, when I finally got back home, found out that I'd been gone for less than an hour. It's enough to make you lose all faith in the basic laws of the 'verse."

Iris wrinkles her nose. "Ugh. So what is this place? The Anti-Narnia?"

Eyebrows go up. "If I knew what Narnia was, I could tell you."

"Hoo. How to explain Narnia..."

This is very much like trying to explain Leprachauns to Anthy. Iris needs to be more careful about her cultural points of reference.

"It's a magic land that you can access in many different ways. Some children visit it through a wardrobe. And when they return home, they find that only a few seconds have passed.

More complicated than that but...it's a very good series of books. Slightly religious overtones but it's harmless."

"Huh." Wash's brow furrows. "I dunno, sounds a lot like this place to me. Really kind of disturbingly like this place, actually...."

He glances around the bar, almost as if expecting a big sign to pop up that says 'WELCOME TO ~~MILLIWAYS~~ NARNIA!'

Well, if a talking lion shows up, we're all doomed, Iris thinks but there may in fact be a talking lion and she doesn't want to confuse Wash so she doesn't say that.

"Hm. Thinking about the later volumes in that series, you might have a point."

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