milliways_bar | (no subject)

[ooc: *fangirls madly*]

"Sir, are you all right?"

Standing, he attempts to crack his back but only succeeds in not falling over. "Other than the infuriating knots in my back, I am perfectly all right. Though I could use something to eat."

A slight smile. "The bar rents out rooms, sir--if you ask for a key, it will be provided. Though I'd be glad to buy you a meal. I'm Sara Sidle." And she offers a hand with another smile.

He takes it firmly. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Sidle. Would that I had made it yesterday, so that I could have saved myself from that confounded couch."

"Now what sort of meals can the Bar provide? Is it limited to only alcoholic beverages, or might one be able to find some poached eggs?"

"It can provide anything you want. This is the end of every universe after all." Said casually, like discussing the weather. Sara has been in the bar for a while.

"Poached eggs, a bagel with cheese, coffee and a pot of tea if you will, Bar."

The food appears.

"Good heavens, I've never seen technology like this before. Where did the food come from?"

"From the Bar. She--yes, it's actually a she--is sentient. And it's not a good idea to insult her if that should ever occur, for she will get revenge."

A wry smile. "I asked once what kind of technology this was and the answer I was given was 'magic'. Given what some of the patrons can do and the worlds they are from, I'm not inclined to be much of a skeptic here."

"How extraordinary. Do you mean to say that she has an Artificial Intelligence?" The Bar lets him know what she thinks of that by removing the pot of tea.

"Come now, I meant no disrespect." A teacup grudgingly appears. ~~How does something appear grudgingly?~~

"Magic you say? In our travels my companions and I have rarely come across such nonsense. And when we do happen across it, there is almost certainly some cause."

"With all due respect, sir--what you might consider nonsense in your world is accepted fact in another. What you might call fiction turns out to be true as well, in a different universe. Hell, I've met some of my childhood television idols here."

A brief pause. "I'm cautioning you not to make hasty judgements of such. One of my friends here is a god of magic, among other things, and most certainly would not respond well to such blithe statements." Neither would Eska, but she's not trying to break his mind. Yet.

"Pardon me, Miss, but in my line of work, one rarely accepts things simply on the statements of another. You'll excuse me if I have my doubts."

"Fair enough." She hopes to be there when he winds up either on the wrong side of Snow White or tutu-ed via Meg.

Then again, maybe they don't need to see the tutu.

He can probably see unholy glee in her eyes. She will definitely enjoy whatever is to come.

He can indeed see it, and it unnerves him slightly. He picks up his eggs and tea and finds a seat.

"Whatever might happen, sir, don't say I didn't warn you. Have a nice afternoon." She walks away, chuckling slightly to herself.

Ray drank an awful lot of coffee this morning, and while coffee is your friend, a true friend wouldn't make you have to go to the bathroom every fifteen minutes. He emerges from the men's room, a textbook on crystallography under one arm.

Yes, he reads science textbooks in the bathroom.

Anyway, his course to his table takes him past the fireplace area; he stops at the sight of someone unfamiliar there, blinking a bit. If he were someone else he'd at least be trying not to look like he was staring, but Ray has the approximate social graces of an eggplant sometimes, so there is nothing to hide the 'you're not Eska and I don't know who else you could be' look on his face.

Arturo looks at Ray and, uncomfortable from the stare, wipes his face with the palm of his hand. Checking to see if anything's come off, he relaxes upon seeing nothing.

"I'm sorry my good man, but is something the matter?"

Ray winces. "Oops. Sorry. You, um, look like someone I used to know at Columbia. You're not related to Al Rossum, are you? Used to teach introductory engineering? This would've been about fifteen years ago. Last I checked he'd gone on to Princeton and the tokamak labs there, but..."

And then the voice penetrates his brain; he almost blurts, Were you the Nelvaanian shaman in the second Star Wars movie?, but stops himself just in time.

"Not to my knowledge, sir. I am Professor Maximillian Arturo, Professor of Cosmology and Ontology. Much as I would have liked to make Tenure at Princeton, their labs were not suited to my needs." It's clear that this last bit may be his own attempt at explaining why they didn't hire him.

"Aaaah, okay." Ray smiles and sticks out a hand for the shaking. "Ray Stantz. Formerly associate professor of parapsychology at Columbia. Wound up on the wrong end of a terminated grant, had to go into private business and research. Good to meet you."

Arturo grasps the hand firmly. "A fellow Professor. Tell me Mr. Stantz, have you had much work with the Astral Plane in your field?"

"God yes," Ray says immediately. "Not personally, unfortunately, but I've had to deal with more than my share of astral entities and incidents happening to other people. Why, you having trouble?"

He digs into a pocket. "My card," he says, handing over a Ghostbusters business card.

Arturo takes the card, looks it over, and chuckles. "No, Mr. Stantz, not currently. However, an associate of mine, Mr. Mallory, was trapped on there for a time. I presume he might have some questions for you on the matter."

He returns to the card. "Do you mean to tell me that you hunt ghosts?"

"Among other paranormal and ectoplasmic entities, yessir. And if the tone of your voice is anything to go by, I have a feeling I'm going to have to prove it. Am I right?" Ray smiles. "I get that a lot."

"You are quite right indeed." Arturo's face gives the impression that he's open to the possibility, but it's going to take evidence.

Ray nods. "No problem. Here's exhibit A." From his belt he pulls a device about the size of a man's two hands together, tugging a pair of sensor arms free from inside the top. "Psychokinetic energy meter. Measures the disturbance in the quantum valences of areas or items where some paranormal influence's been in operation. You get a pretty consistent ionization rate across the interface between the etheric and prime material planes when something like a ghost makes its presence felt- the damn things can't help but leave traces at the energetic level if they're going to interact with baryonic matter. Occasionally they leave more tangible traces, of course, but that's neither here nor there. The meter works pretty nicely for just about any kind of paranormal influence, but we- my colleague Egon Spengler and I, he did high energy physics at MIT before going parapsych- designed it to trace and study the actions and influences of ghosts."

"You mean to tell me that this device tracks energy being manipulated between planes?" Arturo considers this information. If they could somehow incorporate this into the timer, they could track wormholes. It might be possible for them to retrace their steps home!

"Yep, pretty much. It's only designed for the psychokinetic energy spectrum, specifically, but a friend of mine here took one of my older models and modified it to work with Einstein-Rosen bridges to ensure that he could get back to this specific piece of the space-time continuum no matter where he went when he walked out the door."

And that piece clinches it. If it can track Einstein-Rosen-Podolski bridges, it can retrace their wormholes. "Does it have a time limit? Or could it pick up on any activity at all?"

"Depends on the strength of the original distortion," Ray says. "I've seen it pick up some pretty old and weak PKE traces, though. You'd have to ask Warren about how good the bridge scanning is- I haven't worked with him on that part of the modifications."

"Thank you, Mr. Stantz. You may very well have provided me with the information necessary to get my associates and I home."

Ray nods, but cautions, "Don't thank me until it actually works, Dr. Arturo. I haven't seen Warren's modifications in action and I can't vouch for them personally. My only work with artificially generated spacetime holes was years ago- I mostly work on dimensional containment now."

"Yes, perhaps I was a bit premature in my thanks. However, if this proves true..."

"Dimensional Containment? What do you contain?"

[OOC: Sure, I figured as much.]

For answer, Ray points at the meter. "Didn't think I just hunted ghosts and took photographs, did you? I gotta do something to keep the disruptive ones from pestering the living. Research doesn't pay for itself, you know."

"Hello, sir," Gil, aproned and carrying his tray, smiles. "New to Milliways? Can I get you anything from the kitchen?"

Arturo smile in return. "But of course, my good man. I could do with a pot of tea."

Gil beams. "What would sir prefer? We have Earl Grey, of course, Darjeeling, Orange Pekoe, Lapsang Souchong, various fruit or herbal teas including peppermint, chamomile and sassafrass, green tea, red tea and black tea - um - and PG Tips. What's your pleasure?"

Arturo laughs lightly at the selection. "No no, a simple English Breakfast would suffice."

"Ridgeways Imperial Blend," Gil says reverently. "I can personally recommend it."

He nods to the nearest wait-rat who scampers off to the kitchen.

"Have you been here long, sir?" Gil asks, moving a small table closer to the couch. "Don't think I've seen you before. I'm Gil, the cook."

Arturo pauses and looks after the rat. "Indeed I have not." He extends a hand. "Professor Maximillian Arturo. My associate, Mr. Mallory, and I just slid in last night."

Gil shakes his hand warmly. "Very pleased to meet you, Professor," he says. "Errr - slid?"

"Er, yes. You see, my associate and I travel between dimensions using a device which creates a wormhole. We call the act of travelling between dimensions 'sliding.'"

"Really? Cross-dimensional travel sounds interesting. I can do the spatial stuff by Apparating using my wand," Gil produces it for a moment, then pockets it again, "but I'm not sure that would count as a device."

"You mean to tell me that you travel using a wand? Of course, if the technology were small enough, it could work..."

"It's - um - magic," Gil explains, aware that he's not the person the Professor should be talking to. "The wand just focusses my natural magical abilities - apparently. And I can do lots of other stuff to. Mainly," he shrugs, "practical stuff."

{ooc: slowtime is fine - pleased to meet you too}

*Tim is quite good at premepting things. For example, as Arturo gets up, Tim happens to be approaching with a tea tray with a nice pot and a couple of cups, and the fixings. Of course, it's floating in front of him, not being carried, but hey.*

Good morning there.

Rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes, Arturo blinks at Tim. "Good heavens, the service here is phenomenal."

*Tim nods.*

Oh yes, it's great. I just help out when i can.

*he does have a shiny star shaped badge on his coat, "Milliways Bar Security: Deputy Chief.*

Forgive me I'm forward, but you have the scent of a dimension traveler on you....

Arturo stares at the man. "Now how the devil could you have known that? We've only been here since last evening."

Looking at the badge, Arturo blinks. "Bar security? Surely it can't get that rough here?"

*Tim taps his nose.*

You have the odor of transupstantial space about you. It's very distinct to those who can dtect such things.

*Tim glances around.*

Sir. We get people here from thousands of variations of Earth, and other planets. We get heros, gods, villains and devils. There are issues when people don't follow the rules.