Social Milliways - The Restaurant at the End of the Universe! (IC Social Thread)

Apprentice Spycoder and Apprentice Kittie
The Bar

?I don?t give a sith what Master Lyoth does. Little does he know, I am a girl perfectly capable of takin? care of me self!? Apprentice Kittie reported to Spycoder as she collapsed in her arms. Her head nodded, and he realized that she had gotten drunk on fruit drinks. The girl didn?t get out much. Sitting back up in the chair, the brown headed girl fell forward and flopped onto the table, knocking her fruit drink in her hair.

?Ella, you might want to get back to the Academy-?

?The Academy? Who cares about that old thing?? Ella brought her head up, grinning stupidly, then flopping back on the bar. Spike blushed as he glanced from the people throughout the bar. He smiled again, trying to lift Ella up.

?The Academy is new, Ella. New, as in not old!? Spike drug Ella in between tables, a giggle coming from her mouth.

?WEEEE!?

?Ella! Shh!? Spike started to leave. Then he looked at the fruit smoothie. A drop of sweat from the drink ran down the side, and he could imagine the taste. So leaving Ella, he took another sip of the drink.

?Nice to meet you, you filthy man!? Ella had held her wobbly hand out to the young man in black and white armor. Spike knocked his drink over as he ran over to his friend.

?We were just leaving!? Spike told the man.

TAG: Sithy, others

 

Sergeant Isk

The veteran seatrooper considered both jedi: the girl on the floor by his table; the young man bounding over from his spilt fruit drink.

The maitre'd was very easy going here, compared to some places he had gone on shore leave.

"Get her out of here, Kid." Isk growled finally.

Tag: Spycoder, Leonard, any

 

Sithy Insurance: I am going to insure that my characters, when they perish, turn up at Milliways at least once.

IC: Ruth, Moe the Sentinel (interim bar staff), and Sergeant Isk

The restuarant?s arched entrance-way was one more occupied, by a young lady in a dark grey flight suit, with raven black hair, and naturally pink lips that drew a person?s gaze.

She was looking bemusedly into the establishment?s interior, while behind her, a column of orange fire was stark against the dark background of the landing field/ car park.
The blazing craft at the crown of that fiery pillar succumbed to gravity, and crashed upside-down to earth with a loud shatter that saw the newcomer ducking desperately, before turning to see what the hell it was!

?Gosh! What was that?!?

The well-mannered exclamation drew the nearby seatrooper?s attention from his new drinking companion of the divine, and the jedi double act beside their table. He stared over Spycoder?s head at her, whilst she recovered from her shock.

Outside, with all the efficient alacrity of a track marshal at a Formula One race circuit, a yellow bulldozer was pushing the burning wreckage of her snowspeeder over to the side, and out of sight of the patrons.

Isk followed the woman?s progress as she staggered past his table to the bar, where a very, very tall humanoid in old, platelet style armour and an encompassing mauve cape, was tying a white apron round his waist in the universal, ?I am your bar-being for the night? signal.
Looking above the worker?s shoulders, there was no visible face. Just two red eyes burning like coals from within the shadowed recess of a yellow metal helmet.

?Hello. Don?t get many npcs in here.? It nodded down to her.

The average sized woman, who barely seemed to top the new barman?s midriff, placed both hands on the polished wood counter before stammering a greeting in a language that had the Imperial frowning.

?Gen dobre.?

?Yeah, this is not some Virgillian Hall of the Dead, young lady. This is Milliways, the ?Restuarant at the end of the Universe?. Make your orders in English, Basic, Galactic Standard, or speak into the Universal Translator.? The being glared down at her. ?Alternately, if you are after a job, take this bag of ice over to that femme with the blue and white aura.?

The seatrooper saw this second of the two bar staff, indicate S65horsey?s table, where the hunched woman still sat, waiting to be served.
He looked over at the Divine Guy.

?Leonard, hold the fort. I will be back in a few minutes.?

Isk quickly made his way to the bar and grabbed the bag of ice. ?I?ll just take it over, shall I?? He did not engage the newcomer, but noted how she recoiled upon recognising his armour.
Obviously not one of the Emperor?s most loyal servants.

The bag of ice chunks made a loud retort as it cracked onto Sey?s table.

?Here you go, Miss.? He said to her. ?Did you actually order anything??

Tag: S65horsey, Spycoder, Trieste, any

 

IC: Leonard T. Boscoe

?Pardon my astrogational ignorance, Proph?, but where the hell are we??

Well that was a really good question. Leonard didn't exactly know where they were. "Here" was a decent answer, but probably not the one that Sergeant Isk was looking for. However, as usual, the divine sent Leonard the answer he was seeking. This time it came from a tall humanoid behind the bar.

?Yeah, this is not some Virgillian Hall of the Dead, young lady. This is Milliways, the ?Restuarant at the end of the Universe?.?

"I think it is very safe to say that we are at Milliways, the Restaurant at the end of the Universe," Leonard said with complete authority. He took a swig of his Peroni. Not bad. Then a thought struck Leonard.

"Say, Sergeant, do you know where the end of the Universe is? I don't seem to recall my geography very well at all, seeing as the Universe is a bit of a disperse body..."

TAG: Sith

 

OOC: A (very) rare OOC comment in this thread to say thanks to all users posting in here. You guys rock!

 

Sergeant Isk

""Say, Sergeant, do you know where the end of the Universe is? I don't seem to recall my geography very well at all, seeing as the Universe is a bit of a disperse body..."" Leonard called across the room.

Isk looked over and tapped a finger into his own chestplate: "End of the Universe?! Mate, I am a seatrooper; without a beach, a dock, or something, I cannot even tell where the sea ends!"

Tag: Trieste

OOC: Sorry for delay; I missed the tag.

 

Sergeant Isk, Ruth

The monochrome armoured seatrooper turned from Sey's table, and returned to the bar, where the new dumpy-looking woman in the flightsuit had paid for her beer and was swigging from the green bottle.

A week, Real Time, had shifted, so by now she should have lost her ingame fear of his Imperial uniform.

"Hi."

Ruth turned from the tall barperson, and looked at Isk over the bottle, a few bubbled of froth finding their way out the side of her mouth. She put the beer down and wiped a sleeve across her lips.

"Nice."

"Everybody is a critic." She noted huffily. "Can I help you?"

"Ya busy?"

Ruth shrugged. Unless there DJ started playing some music, she would start getting seriously bored. "Not doing anything right now, why?"

Isk could not explain how he knew what he knew; it was like ideas and knowledge were streaming into his head from out of the ether.
He jumped and leaned over the bar, feeling with a hand along the shelves on the staff side for something.

"Err hello. I am right here, you know?" The tall staffmember in the platelet armour and the apron, protested, miffed.

The seatrooper ignored him, and grabbing hold of what he somehow knew he was looking for, pushed himself back, and using the Ebla Beer pump for leverage, managed to drop back onto the customer side.

He grabbed Ruth's unresisting wrist, and put the leather strap of a chunky chronometer over it, pulling the buckle closed.

The former snowspeeder gunner looked on in interest while she used her other hand to lift the bottle to her lips. "This doesn't mean we're married; you know that, don't you."

"Vortex manipulator, Miss. We're needed to provide weekend cover at the RPF Adoptions Academy." Isk looked up into the pilot's eyes. "Ever been to Iskalon?"

Her mouth opening to respond, coincided with his finger hitting the SEND button, and a bright flash that enveloped both beings, the Imperial and the Rebel disappearing as if they had never existed.

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Marte Nalo

Marte walked up to the door of Milliways and peered inside. The place appeared to be mostly dark with few lights. Testing the door, Marte found it unlocked and opened it. Kriff, I hate doors tinted like that, he thought as his eyes were assaulted with bright lights. Walking inside, he looked around and realized he was the only one in the place?or at least it appeared that way, until someone who Marte assumed was the bartender walked out from a back room.

"This place still open?" asked Marte.

TAG: the bartender (whoever that is) or anyone else

 

IC: Sergeant Isk

The Imperial seatrooper, helmetless, clad in white partial armour and the nominal black undersuit, had been in Reception at the Roleplaying Forum Academy when the junior wizard, Harry Potter, had grabbed a visitor pen off the counter, and proceeded to cast an Area Effect frost spell inside the room.

Isk, sensing trouble and already seeing one person turn to ice in the micro-second in took the ring of cold magic to expand around the schoolboy, had hit the emergency teleport on the vortex manipulator strapped to his wrist.

Ah, Milliways. He had been here some time ago, in his off-time from working at the Academy, but had been recalled to cover for Toshiko Sato, the former Torchwood operative, who normally greeted visitors.

The sergeant sighed, deciding he would give it at least forty-five minutes before returning.

The place was dark, apart from a few lights, and deserted, at which point, he realised he had materialised in a back room!

?This place still open??

Isk froze, ironically, seeing as he had come here to avoid just that!

He stared wild-eyed at the person beside him. ?DON?T do that! Almost had a heart attack, I did.? He rolled his eyes, voice lowering to a barely audible mutter: ?Great, you scared me into sounding like Yoda.?

Isk gathered his wits and softened his expression. ?What would you like to drink, young sir. I?m buying. And by buying, I mean, commandeering in the name of the Empire, and leaving an Empire-will-compensate-you note in the till.?

Tag: jcgoble3

 

Walter Haywood

The first thing Walter Haywood did, prior to entering any buildings, was to check the windows. Milliways was no exception, although it took a great deal of work to inspect the windows of a restaurant whose windows were the only thing between it and the vacuum of space - also the end of the universe. The latter was a bit less of a predicament than the former, if only because he still had a few hours until then. By contrast, braving a hard vacuum armed with only your grungy fourth hand clothes, a ratty brown trench coat, and one impeccably well-kept brown fedora was quite the ordeal.

Fortunately for Mr. Haywood, he had remembered his anti-vacuum cigarillo, and he dutifully puffed away as he peered in. The lights were bright, but there were only two blokes inside, and neither of them appeared to be the bartender. Taking a long drag on the AVC, he rolled up his sleeves, adjusted the brim of his hat, and punched the window full on.

He fell right through, the window still quite intact, and the force of his own momentum brought him hurtling down past the two patrons and into a display of very expensive looking glassware. The resulting noise was perhaps best described as ka-whiff CHINKLE CHING CHING CRASH TEEDLE CRASH CRASH CRASH CRASH SLICE CRASH SMASH, although some liberties may have been taken with the onomatopoeia. Nonetheless, Walter had definitely landed in the glassware, which was now definitely broken, and he had definitely done this by somehow not punching a window he was punching.

In retrospect, this would have seemed less fantastic had a note of Mr. Haywood's bizarre magical abilities been made earlier. Yes, Walter was a sorcerer, the sort of thing that would command a great deal of respect in other universes and gets used for the sake of cheap laughs in this one. He was also a fairly talented one, having single-handedly developed magical cigarillo technology at the age of 22, which would have been a major innovation had it not also come saddled to that pesky "lung cancer thing" that its chief competitor, magical beer, did not have to deal with. Of course, sooner or later their livers would give in, and Walter would have the last laugh.

Presumably from beyond the grave. Chronic smoking and all that.

And so Mr. Haywood was quite possibly the single most destitute genius magician in the multiverse, doomed to forever be dressed like some kind of magic hobo with great taste in hats. The years (and constant smoking) had not been kind, and Walter looked eighty and bedraggled at the relatively young and un-bedraggled age of 47. It was this grey, haggard, bearded face that greeted the other two patrons as he emerged from the glass rubble.

He tipped his hat, as was his usual greeting, and pointed to the bar, then to the two patrons. He waited a moment, shook his head in resignation, got up, and poured himself a glass of Glenfiddich on two ice cubes. He gestured to the other two, in what he hoped was a fairly obvious inquiry as to whether they wanted anything.

Oh, yeah, that's right. Walter's mute. That should also have been mentioned earlier.

TAG: Sith-I-5, jcgoble3

 

IC: Marte Nalo

"What would you like to drink, young sir. I?m buying. And by buying, I mean, commandeering in the name of the Empire, and leaving an Empire-will-compensate-you note in the till."

"You mean, steal?" Marte asked in shock. Before the Imperial could reply, Marte continued, "I guess that's okay; after all the universe will be dead before anyone can throw us in jail. I'll have a Corellian spiced?what the...?!?"

This last exclamation was in response to a man dressed like a hobo who appeared to be in his seventies or eighties passing right through the nearby window without breaking it and crashing into a display of glassware, which did break. Marte was speechless as the old man tipped his hat, poured himself something to drink and gestured at him and the Imperial. Marte guessed he was deaf and, not knowing any form of sign language, looked around for something to write on and with so they could communicate. Locating a durasheet and a writing utensil, Marte handed them to the hobo, motioning for him to write down what he was trying to say.

TAG: Sith-I-5, darthramza

 

IC: Sergeant Isk

He was affronted by the abo's suggestion that he meant 'stealing'!

"Call it what you like; I am going to have a Peroni." He moved round the bar, and searched the small glase-doored fridges set into the wall, for signs of the green bottle he was after.

"Ah-ha." He pulled out the required beverage and nodded at the hobo. "Now, where would the barkeep store the opener?"

Tag: Any

 

IC: Marte Nalo

Still waiting on the hobo to write down what he was trying to say, Marte turned back to the Imperial. "I'll have a Corellian spiced ale. So, how's life in the Empire?" As he spoke, Marte looked around for the bottle opener. "I've only heard about it through school textbooks. I'm from over two hundred years later." Locating the opener, Marte handed it to the Imperial. "Actually, I just realized we haven't introduced ourselves yet. I'm Marte Nalo. And you are..."

TAG: Sith-I-5, darthramza

 

IC: Sergeant Isk.

"I'll have a Corellian spiced ale. So, how's life in the Empire?" The man asked.

"Morale is down. We lost the Emperor and almost the Death Star, at Endor. But then," he reflected in a lower tone, "we lost Vader too, so it is swings and roundabouts, really."

"I've only heard about it through school textbooks. I'm from over two hundred years later."

"Cheers, Mate." Isk acknowledged as he took the opener, and levered the cap off the green bottle.

"Actually, I just realized we haven't introduced ourselves yet. I'm Marte Nalo. And you are..."

Isk said nothing until he had handed over the pint glass of Corellian Spiced Ale, some of the spice granules coating the rim of the glass.

"You want a slice of lemon with that, Nalo? I'm Sergeant Isk, of the Victory Star Destroyer Wraithis."

Tag: all

 

IC: Marte Nalo

"You want a slice of lemon with that, Nalo?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass on the lemon," replied Marte.

"I'm Sergeant Isk, of the Victory Star Destroyer Wraithis."

"Nice to meet you." Marte stopped to take a long drink of the ale. "I have to admit that from what I've seen in schoolbooks, I've got no love for the Empire, but you seem like a pretty nice guy. How much of a personal life does the Empire allow you? I mean, do you have a wife, kids, that sort of thing?"

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Sergeant Isk

The team leader laughed, "The Empire gives no time for that sort of thing, especially given how long the tours of duty were." He took a healthy swig of the beer, then a more savouring pull on it, letting the bubbly liquid work its way round his tongue. "No, my platoon, and then my crew, were my family."

The seatrooper grew melancholy.

"My best mate though, MUL-1546; Mull, we called him. He died aboard the Ambivalence."

Isk's voice tailed off as he stared blankly over Nalo's shoulder, then after several moments, seemed to shake himself awake. He took another sip of his Peroni.

"And you, sir? Any family or friends?"

Tag: Nalo, hobo, anyone

 

IC: Marte Nalo

"And you, sir? Any family or friends?"

"I've got a wife and three kids. I'm the head coach for a professional limmie team, or bolo-ball, if you prefer that term. I was hoping to find someone here from a slightly later time than me that could tell me how the Storm?that's my team?did in the 265 season." Marte took another long drink of the ale, draining the bottle and then setting it down on the bar with a thunk. "Unless the hobo over there qualifies, I'm out of luck." Suddenly Marte burped. "Excuse me," he said, as he looked very embarrassed.

TAG: Sith-I-5, darthramza, anybody

 

IC: Sergeant Isk

"Limmie," The trooper echoed in growing recognition, "limmie...; oh, you are something to do with that game over on the Role Playing Forum, aren't you?" He started nodding animatedly in answer to his own question.

"-was hoping to find someone here from a slightly later time than me that could tell me how the Storm?that's my team?did in the 265 season." Nalo put his emptied bottle down with a thunk. "Excuse me."

"Why, where you going?" Isk joked, poorly. With a reluctant sigh, he opened a hidden zip on his uniform, and pulled out a black badge-wallet.
"I am really sorry about this, and I swear this was not deliberate; you have not been set up in a sting or anything." He flashed the tin.
"Logic and Reason: Special Victims Unit. You seem like a nice guy too, so I'm sure there is an innocent explanation. Why do you want to know how your team did? So you can go back to your time, and put money on them to win or lose?"

Tag: Nalo, any

 

IC: Marte Nalo

"You seem like a nice guy too, so I'm sure there is an innocent explanation. Why do you want to know how your team did? So you can go back to your time, and put money on them to win or lose?"

"Absolutely not. I don't gamble on anything in any way. I'm just over-stressed, and it would help relieve that stress if I knew how things would turn out. Anyway, since you're from an earlier time and the hobo over there is ignoring us, it looks like I won't be able to get that information, so I might just get out of here. I don't want to miss too much time and have people wondering where I'm at." Marte fished for his wallet and dropped it on the floor. As he picked it up, Isk caught a glimpse of a few thousand-credit bills in the billfold. Marte pulled out a fifty and handed it to Isk. "I've gotta give you some kind of tip for serving me. It's Republic credits, but it's all I've got on me."

Tag: Sith-I-5, any

 

IC: Sergeant Isk

The seatrooper shook his head and pushed the note back to the team coach.

Increasingly pre-occupied with what might be going on, back at the RPF Adoptions Academy, he did not read anything into the outsized tip, nor the sight of the thousand credit bills in the man's wallet.

"Nah, you keep it. I don't work here, remember? And besides, you did find me the bottle opener."

Truth to tell, if this Nalo character was going to drokk off anyway, it would make the sergeant feel less guilty for having to return to Iskalon. He could feel in his bones that he might be needed back there.

"Look, sorry about this," he apologised again to Nalo, this time bringing up his wrist to show the other the vortex manipulator leather-strapped there. He pressed a button to open the comlink channel that would connect him to Academy' Reception. Still looking at Marti, he transmitted. "Is there anybody there? One knock for 'yes', two knocks for 'no'."

He paused to wait for a reponse. "Hold on, Republic credits?"

Tag: Nalo

 

IC: Marte Nalo

"Nah, you keep it. I don't work here, remember? And besides, you did find me the bottle opener," Isk said.

"If you're sure. Can't say I didn't offer," replied Marte.

"...Hold on, Republic credits?"

"Like I said, it's all I've got. In my time, the Empire was history long ago. A third Republic covers half the galaxy, but the whole galaxy uses Republic credits."

Tag: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Sergeant Isk


"If you're sure. Can't say I didn't offer," replied Marte.

"...Hold on, Republic credits?" He had asked.

"Like I said, it's all I've got. In my time, the Empire was history long ago. A third Republic covers half the galaxy, but the whole galaxy uses Republic credits."

"Yeah, but remember that the Republic that the Empire replaced, lasted thousands of years, so even without the Emperor, one could be forgiven for expecting the next galactic government to last at least until your time. Hardly seems worth the effort, now."

"Sergeant? This is Fen. Where are you?" The child's voice was unexpected; not one of the normal staff, though Isk had seen him get frozen in the area effect spell that the seatrooper had narrowly avoided.

"I'm at Milliways." He told Fen, who he knew as a pre-teenage Jedi Padawan.

"Frag you doing at Milliways?!" The voice exclaimed.

"I got out of there as soon as Potter set off his spell; emergency teleport brought me to it's last location. The Restuarant at the End of the Universe. So, you guys need me back yet?"

There was just silence on the line.

Isk looked across at Nalo. "Fen? You there?"

Tag: Nalo, any

 

Walter Haywood

The remarkable thing about being mute, as Walter had discovered long ago, was that if you didn't impose yourself upon a conversation, you could just sort of fade into the background. Needless to say, that's precisely what he did. Oh, he'd taken the strange not-paper and not-pencil from the Nalo chap, sure, but he's opted to just sit and sip his scotch while listening to their conversation.

Walter had a fondness for listening. He considered nearly everyone he met inherently more interesting than he was, and he loved learning all the weird little details of their lives. For example, both of these blokes were from a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, and one of them was from before the other! Outrageous! They were talking about currency.

Currency is of remarkable interest to wandering vagabond mages, you see, as they don't have any of their own. Hence why they're wandering vagabonds. The mage part is pretty inconsequential. So basically they like money the way your average man in the street likes money.

That was a rather pointless anecdote, wasn't it? At least the scotch was good. In the mean time, the conversation had drifted to some guy calling the sergeant

Who, he found himself scribbling, if you don't mind my asking, is Fen? - Walter.

He imposed the not-paper in between the two gentlemen to try and get their attention.

TAG: Sith, jcg

 

IC: Sergeant Isk

The seatrooper looked at the silent hobo. ?Ah. You?re alive then??

He plucked the small square of yellow flimsi from the other?s hand, and looked at the query asking about Fenlaka.

?Fen is a twelve year-old twi?lek lad, a jedi padawan, who is helping to demonstrate ?Lightsabre Basics? at the Academy where I work.?

Isk?s attention was attracted to some text scrolling across a panel on his vortex manipulator. ?My player says he was unable to see whatever you were linking to at Youtube? UMG not available in his country?? The seatrooper shrugged. ?That mean anything to you??

Isk eyed the fifty cred note, which Marti had not yet made an effort to put away. He picked it up off the counter, and proffered it to the penniless-looking patron. "There you go, mate. Don't say the Empire never did anything for you."

Tag: Walter, Nalo

 

IC: Marte Nalo

Marte had no problem with this Isk giving the fifty to the hobo; after all, from the looks of him, the hobo needed it. He put his wallet back in his pocket, nodded at the hobo, and said, "Well, I've gotta get going. It was nice talking with you, Sergeant, and I'm sorry I can't stay longer. Who knows, maybe we'll run into each other here again sometime." Marte pushed the door open and waved good-bye to both Isk and the hobo.

TAG: Sith-I-5 or darthramza