Weekend Entertainment: Test Drive Thread!

[damncompass]

Happy Saturday, all!

Guess what next week is? February 1st! And that means that it's application time again! So, let's use this thread for any test drive characters that you're considering apping to the bar!

Rules (such as they are!):

Post in with a character you're considering apping, and everyone else can reply with their characters, approved or otherwise. Have fun!

Comments

[notthewolf]

Sitting at the bar is a young man nursing a beer. He has a paper in front of him, and is making a few notes on it, sketches for various metal armaments. Every so often, he chews the back of the pencil in thought.

He could possibly use a distraction.

[x_dragon]

George isn't sure what the heck is going on - one minute he's walking into a storeroom, the next he's in a barroom - but the guy at the bar seems friendly, so he heads over to see what he can find out.

"Excuse me?" He says politely while peaking at what the man is drawing.

[notthewolf]

Peter looks up from his paper with a smile. "Yes? Can I help you?" There's not much Peter can tell him, as he's fairly new himself, but he can at least be cheerful to the man.

[x_dragon]

George can't help the feeling he's on a movie set or being mind controlled but decides to take things as they come. His clothes are very worn and he himself is rather shaggy, though maybe not by Peter's standards.

"Could you tell me where I am? I think I'm a little lost." If this is a time travel thing or some other dimension thing, it'd be best to play along he decides.

[notthewolf]

"Well, to be completely honest, I'm fairly new myself. I just got here yesterday. I've been told that it's a tavern called Milliways. It's... well, it's an afterlife for some and an escape from life for others." There's a bandage on the right side of his neck, as well.

[x_dragon]

George's eyes lock onto Peter's for a moment before darting around the rest of him. No dilated pupils, no greying of the skin, no apparent shakes. He seems fine but George will keep a weather eye on him from now on.

"So this isn't a set at Paramount then?" He says jovially. he's tempted to ask the man which he is, dead or visiting, but it wouldn't be the most polite question. Of course if Peter starts trying to eat people, then courtesy goes out the window.

[notthewolf]

Peter returns the other man's gaze with sincerity and confuseion. "A what at what now? I don't think I know what sets or mountains have to do with anything. It's just a strange tavern that appears in various places for people."

He looks no different than any other person in the bar, except for the darkly-stained hands and bandage on his neck.

[x_dragon]

"Wait, are we talking Howl's Moving Castle here or something like the Tardis?" George asks, not quite catching onto the blacksmith from a different world vibe eter has going on.

[notthewolf]

There's an even more confused look on Peter's face as the other man speaks. "Uh. I don't think that I've heard of either of those things. We have castles back home, but they're decidedly in one place. And I don't even know what a Tardis is."

He pauses. "Sorry. My girlfriend said that there are people here from many different worlds. I'm likely from a much different world than you are."

[x_dragon]

"And I take it you are from a different world than me," George says a bit hesitantly, having trouble believing, but then he's in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, can fly, is bulletproof, and can breath fire; who is he to disbelieve?

Deciding to take it all in stride, he offers his hand. "I'm George, George Bailey."

[notthewolf]

"I would assume that is the case. You're wearing a different sort of clothes, and talking about... odd things. What is a Tardis, by the way."

Peter shakes with a smile. "Peter. Good to meet you."

[x_dragon]

George's handshake is firm but friendly, not aggressive at all.

"It's kind of hard to explain. It's sort of a ship that travels through space and time. Looks like a phone booth...I mean a blue box - sort of like an outhouse? - from the outside, but it is much bigger on the inside."

[analytical_necromancer]

"This is not proper," says a pale man in a very proper and dark suit as he tucks a silver key into his waistcoat. Turning to leave through the door, he finds it gone. "No, this will most certainly not do."

[littlegreycells]

"Hastings, I don't think this is my office...Hastings?"

The effete little man with the Belgian accent looks quite lost. But also quite fascinated.

*shrieks and flails yay*

[sunbaked_baker]

There's a red-headed woman in a bright t-shirt and jeans weaving her way through the tables, a large tray of cinnamon rolls balanced against her hip. It's time to try and get her tab back into the black before she heads home, which means that marathon baking sessions are back on the menu. So to speak.

Rae looks over towards the man, hearing the tell-tale tone of a newcomer.

"Good morning," Rae offers, with a friendly (and somewhat sympathetic) smile for the man. "You're right that this isn't your office - this is Milliways. It tends to show up unexpectedly."

Re: *shrieks and flails yay*

[littlegreycells]

"Milliways? It showed up in my apartment?" He looks baffled. And the young woman's clothing are a bit strange as well. Certainly not ladylike.

Re: *shrieks and flails yay*

[sunbaked_baker]

Not ladylike, nor of sensibly demure colors. Even the apron she wears is a bright blue, dotted with yellow sunflowers.

"There's really no telling where it shows up," she answers. "For example - for me, it tends to show up in my bakery. Which, while it's nice to be able to take a break in the middle of the day, can be disconcerting."

Re: *shrieks and flails yay*

[littlegreycells]

"How is this possible?" He sounds perturbed now. His sense of order has been violated. "I am in one place and then I am in another, just like that?" His accent is more pronounced now. "I must be dreaming."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Not dreaming, no," she says, kindly. "Where you were is still right through the door behind you."

She'll save the idea of being Bound for some other time.

"Would you care to take a seat? Something to drink? The first drink is free for newcomers - as you can imagine, it's often needed."

[littlegreycells]

"I do not like to cloud my brain with the drink." Pause. "But I am not the American tea-total-er, either.

"Are you a waitress here?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Judiciously applied drink can help ease a mind just a easily as too much can cloud it," Rae smiles. She is most definitely not a teetotaler.

Though she does like tea. >_>

"I'm a patron - but I do sell my baking here to help pay for my room and board," she replies, stepping over toward the unmanned bar so she might set down her tray of gigantic, freshly-baked cinnamon rolls. "In Milliways, you hardly ever have to worry about the bartender being too busy. The bar can serve on its own."

[littlegreycells]

"That is sheer nonsense. Is this an elaborate prank?" Is it April Fool's Day and somehow he is not aware.

Non, that cannot be either.

[sunbaked_baker]

"If you pause for a moment, I think you'll find that you know it isn't, sir," Rae replies.

"But I'll answer any questions you have, and help if I can. I remember my first time finding this place - I know how unsettling it can be."

[littlegreycells]

"Very well. I shall pause." Fortunately, Poirot is not beyond the charms of a pretty woman.

[sunbaked_baker]

"It's weird, I know, and surprising, but it's not quite nonsense," Rae offers a slight smile. "My name is Rae, Rae Seddon. I'm a baker from the city of New Arcadia, in Independencia, on Earth, in the year 2004. You said you were expecting your apartment, when the door brought you here. Where and when are you from?"

[littlegreycells]

"2004...that is incredible..." His little grey cells are working overtimes right now. "I am Hercule Poirot, the detective, and I am from London in 1931."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Poirot," Rae smiles. "I've never been to London, myself, but I've heard stories. Would you care for something to drink? Or perhaps a cinnamon roll?"

[littlegreycells]

"A roll might be nice. And a sherry." And some proof any of this is real.

[sunbaked_baker]

The roll, she serves onto a plate with a napkin, fork and knife - the man doesn't exactly seem like the finger-licking type - but the sherry, it appears as ordered upon the surface of the bar.

"There you go," she says, grinning slightly as she serves up the cinnamon roll beside the sherry.

[littlegreycells]

"Mon dieu..." It is rare that Poirot is speechless.

The moment passes.

"Is this possible in your future? Matter from nothing? Or from energy, in some permutation of Dr. Einstein's ideas?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae hesitates, not having the slightest clue who a Dr. Einstein might be.

"Not really in my future - usually even a transmuter needs something to start from... But it's possible here."

[littlegreycells]

He sips the sherry. It is perfect.

"There was a fictional detective who once suggested that once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how incredible, must be real. I had always dismissed that as the thoughts of a marginally talented writer. I must reconsider." He pronounces "incredible" in pure French.

[sunbaked_baker]

"I've had that quoted at me before," she grins, wryly. Though that had been Yolande, back in her own world, related to something wholly different than magical bars and impossible things before breakfast. "You'd be surprised how often it's applicable."

[littlegreycells]

"This would seem to be a moment for surprises." He daintily cuts a small piece of cinnamon roll and tastes it. "Magnifique! And you are chef, and not this impossible place?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"That'd be me. They came out of the oven just a little while ago," Rae beams, pleased.

[littlegreycells]

"My compliments to the chef, then. You have matched the best bakery in Paris." Calmer, he begins to study the room. The tables, the fireplace, a window that from his angle he cannot see out of. "You said room and board? This is more than a bar."

[sunbaked_baker]

Take that, best bakery in Paris! Rae chuckles, pleased by the compliment.

"It's more like a strange hotel, in a way. A place to eat, sleep, and meet, all on its own. There are rooms upstairs for rent, the kitchens, and a garage, as well as through that door," Rae motions, "the gardens, lake, and forest."

[littlegreycells]

"And when I go through the door I came in, I will be back home. And this place will be gone." Another impossible thing.

Maybe it IS all a dream?

[sunbaked_baker]

"It might show up again someday, though," she smiles, kind. "Time moves kind of funny here. Another impossible but true thing - for myself and for many others here, no time passes back in our worlds while we're here. So you might stay for a while, and then when you returned through your door, you'd return in your world to the very moment you left."

[littlegreycells]

"And then I could show Captain Hastings or Miss Lemon?" And prove to himself it's real?

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae's eyebrows lift slightly. "I should think so?"

[littlegreycells]

"Then I will try. Later. After I have my cinnamon roll and my drink." He can't wait to show them.

And will be very disappointed when he tries.