A New Arrival...

[onehoopyprefect]

((ooc: what the heck, let's give this a go... watch for slow response time; that innane thing called "work"))

Ford Prefect slinks carefully into the bar. This is because he's not sure if he has been in this particular bar before, and therefore should be expecting something to be thrown at him, be it glass, dagger, or Aurelian slimebeast. When no projectiles seem to be forthcoming, he straightens up and adopts his normal casual demeanor.

He catches a glimpse of a menu on a table. "Milliways, huh? I remember this place back when ol' Max was running it as a restaurant. Guess the Centaurian stock market crash took a toll." Ford sidles up to the bar, knocking on it firmly. "Barkeep, a large Janx Spirit and a small glass of water, please."

Comments

[in-it.livejournal.com]

[OOC: EEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ahem, yes. Welcome! Hee.]

Andrew had been sitting at the bar with a glass of juice, and gave the new guy a sideways glance. Catching his eye, he nodded, and smiled.

"Are you new?" he asked.

[onehoopyprefect]

Ford looks over, failing to see the moment that the drinks he'd ordered simply materialized. It was, he decided, simply a very fast and very trusting bartender. Fast because he hadn't seen him, and trusting because he hadn't asked for payment in advance.

He takes a drink as he considers the speaker, then decides on the response, "Let's just say I'm slightly used."

[in-it.livejournal.com]

Andrew chuckled. "Aren't we all?" he replied, and offered a hand to shake. "Hi, I'm Andrew. What I meant is if you've ever been to the bar before. I don't remember seeing you."

[onehoopyprefect]

It took Ford a few moments to realize that this was an Earthman, and that holding out a hand was a gesture of greeting, and not, as it was on the planet of Regillian 6, a marriage proposal.

He shook the hand in what he thought of as a passable imitation of the gesture as he'd witnessed it. "I'm Ford," he answered. "I haven't been here since it became a bar. Visited a couple of times when it was still a restaurant, quite a few years back. Well, quite a few years, subjective time, anyway."

[in-it.livejournal.com]

Andrew noticed that the handshake wasn't really much of a shake, as it rather lacked in the actual gripping of the hand. But hey, weirder things had happened, so he didn't pay it too much mind.

The name rang a bell somewhere in the back of his mind, but he wasn't able to place it, to his great annoyance. "Was it a restaurant? I had no idea," Andrew mused. "Do you know the rules, then?" Figured he might as well just ask. Tradition, and all.

[onehoopyprefect]

"Yeah, a while back, from my point of view anyway, Milliways was the 'Restaurant at the End of the Universe'. Guy named Max Quordlepleen ran the joint. Real upscale, posh place. I like this better. More my kind of place."

Ford looked around appreciatively. "Rules, eh? Everyone looks pretty sedate. What kinda rules you need?"

[in-it.livejournal.com]

"You know, I said the same thing when I first came here, but you'd be surprised. I've not ever seen them have to be enforced, but you hear things, so..." Andrew shrugged noncommittally. "There's three. No violence, business or sex in the bar. Which, really, seem pretty obvious to the more sane person, but not everyone here is sane. Oh, and no nudity, but that kinda goes along with rule 3." Andrew motioned to Ford's drink. "This isn't a rule, but your first drink is free. If you want anything else, Bar'll start a tab for you."

[slayer_fray]

[OOC: EEEEEEEEE!!!!! Someone's using the TV show PBs. I LOVE you. Yay David Dixon.]

[onehoopyprefect]

((ooc: I have to ask... I've seen it all over, and I know it refers to the actor, but what does "PB" actually *stand for*?))

[iamnotstorm.livejournal.com]

( ooc: *flailflail* I know this one! Not to interrupt nor nothin'. It's 'Played By' *only just learned recently herself* )

[slayer_fray]

[OOC: Played By. S'means you're using David Dixon, not Mos Def. And while IMO Def was a good Ford and one of the better casting decisions of the film, I still prefer the original. So. Worship of you. *snogs* Welcome to Milliways.]

[slayer_fray]

Oh what the Bloody Hell

There's a young woman looking at him from a table nearby. Considering the two empty bottles of Tequila on the table, the slightly glazed expression is only unusual because it's slight

"Mornin'. You new?"

[onehoopyprefect]

Ford takes in the barely unfocused gaze, the posture that can only be described as an un-wobble, and the depressingly empty glassware. My, but he does admire any woman who can hold her liquor.

"Is it morning already? My, where does the time go? Suppose I should have some breakfast." He raps on the bar. "Irish breakfast, please." This time he does see his requested items simply appear... a pickled pig's foot, two pickled eggs, and a large beer. "Ah, ham, eggs, and toast. Lovely."

He turns back to the young lady with a lopsided grin. "New *here*, if that's what you mean."

[slayer_fray]

She smirks at that.

"Right. Welcome to Milliways. Guess you've figured out Bar already, huh?"

[onehoopyprefect]

"Bar? Oh! Oh, yeah, sure. No problem. Good ol' Bar. Recognized it as soon as I walked in."

And if you believe *that*, there's a few planets that this gentleman would like to sell you.

"Not nearly as strange as some places. Why, I read about one planet out near the Galactic Rim that has this thing called 'sapient pearwood'. Makes some ripping good luggage. Loyal to a fault. Even if it gets lost on a hyperspace jump, even if *you* get lost on a hyperspace jump, it'll always manage to find you. Great stuff, that."

[slayer_fray]

Don't play a playa, Ford, Mel rolls her eyes and smirks, standing and heading over, patting Bar gently as she hops on to a stool

"She's sentient. So be nice to her. She'll givya a key to a room upstairs ifya need one, and will run a tab forya ifya can't pay now.

"And the Rules. No violence, no business and no sex down here.

"I'm Mel Fray. 2293. New York," and she offers a hand.

[onehoopyprefect]

Ford's eyes mist over at the most beautiful three words in existence. "Run a tab".

"She'll run me a tab? Does she know who I *am*? I ask merely for information. Just because a creature is sentient does not mean it is sensible."

Ford shakes her hand. "Ford Prefect, Betelgeuse 5. So you're from New York? The one on Earth?"

[slayer_fray]

Good question. Mel continues to smirk and her eyes flicker to the tabs board, where interestingly, Ford's name is up by the price of his breakfast, although not his original drink.

Mel has a firm grip, although it's not as firm right now as it could be.

"Yeah, the one on Earth. Um, that's the Earth with the Slayers on it. Never met anyone from as far out as Betelgeuse. What year is it forya?"

[mctrillian.livejournal.com]

OOC: I'm actually on my way out, but will be back later, Trill just would not let me leave without ...

And then there are two arms wrapped around Ford's neck.

"There you are! We've all been wondering, although Zaphod keeps blinking in and out, I haven't seen him in a bit, Arthur's upstairs--"

Trillian is happy to see him, see.

[onehoopyprefect]

"Trillian! Hi there! You're looking well. The darker hair suits you. I do miss that red outfit, though. You know how it is. With the Vogons out of the Guide offices, it's back to business, so naturally, I've been out and about doing what I do best."

Which is to say, as little as possible. But Trillian's an old friend and likely already knows that.

[mctrillian.livejournal.com]

"Suits me well, doesn't it? Yes, I've forgotten what my natural color is now -- as for the clothes, well, they're upstairs in my closet somewhere."

Trillian pauses.

"That is to say, my lab. My room. All of the above. Arthur's got a suite, I've got a closet."

[onehoopyprefect]

Most people would choose to make the obligatory "coming out of the closet" joke. Ford declines, not out of any sense of tact or decorum, but simply because he wouldn't get the reference.

"A lab, you say? What are you working on lately?"

[mctrillian.livejournal.com]

So far, nobody else has either, and Trillian's absolutely grateful for it.

"Well, I'm helping some friends here regain control of their home planet. Deposed king and his general, see. And the Guide entry wasn't too comforting -- something about collective consciousnesses and all so everyone's watching everyone else at once -- and I'm researching a way to destroy the collective without killing every single person involved."

She sighs, and gives him a deploring look.

"And so far it isn't working."

[onehoopyprefect]

Ford listens intently, moreso than he would to most people, because he knows that when Trillian gets involved in something, it's a big thing.

When she finishes, he fishes his towel out of his satchel and chews thoughtfully on the end, a bad habit he'd picked up after having the corner accidentally dipped in a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

Finally, he looks her in the eyes, and says with all seriousness, "Buy it a drink."

[mctrillian.livejournal.com]

"Does that really taste any good? Mine's horribly foul, though it works when there's nothing else to live on," Trillian notes on Ford's towel, while pondering the logistics of giving drinks to the Antarian collective.

Can a pile of rocks accept drinks?

It's a good question.

And if anyone would know about that, Ford probably would.

"Would a pile of rocks appreciate that, do you suppose?"