Wednesday DE: What if...

[yakalskovich]

Many of us have these headvoices they used to play and retired, or have written in fic  but not RPed which are still a background presence in our minds.

Bring them out!

Tag in here as if the tag was an EP, then tag out to others, and go wild. I am turning notifies off, so no limits.

Except: please no characters that are presently extant in Milliways, only complete retirees or no-shows. Also, assume they have been to the bar before,  no first entrances. Have fun!!

ETA: Of course you can tag the visitors with your current pups, too, especially if it's somebody you've missed or would love to see!

Comments

[equal_of_any_man]

Olivier pulls up a seat by the fire, caving a toy for his daughter.

[scots_wolf]

"What's that going to be?"

Urquhart is sitting nearby, long legs and huge boots stretched towards the fire as he sips mulled cider from a large mug.

[equal_of_any_man]

"A horse. My daughter loves horses. I hope it might give her something to distract herself with." He shakes his head. "My wife is heavy with child and soon to give birth. My little Mary worried."

[scots_wolf]

"Pregnancy is always fraught with danger," Urquhart says. "At least in our time. It gets a little better in that shiny future so many people here are from."

[equal_of_any_man]

"We lost our second child." He nods sadly. "I wasn't able to bring her here in time."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart nods; these things happen in their time. "And now your daughter fears something might go wrong again," he states. "Perhaps have her learn something new, too. Something helpful. I remember how proud I was when I brought home the first fish for the family table that I caught myself. It was as big as my lower leg, back then."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart is outside, looking at the pumpkins ripening in the vegetable patch.

When he was alive, he never knew vegetables like this, despite the glaring gaffe in his canon to the contrary. But he has become quite fond of them here in his afterlife. Now, he is choosing one to go into this night's vegetable couscous.

Botherable, of course.

[ancient_justice]

There is a lady at the bar, drinking a double espresso while watching the room from large dark eyes.

She is wearing a pinstriped business suit with a moderately short skirt and heels, and her dark curls are loose on her shoulders. The one unusual thing about her are the patterened dark tights she is wearing -- they are covered in a pattern of tiny stylised feathers.

[the_prince_of_crows]

There's a rather large man, or what is best described as a man, who comes up to the bar. With a sort-of British accent and a lot of hand gestures, he orders a bottle of beer and proceeds to slump onto one of the stools.

He's wearing an oversized t-shirt with a faded logo and a pair of black jeans. Short, slicked-back black hair tips a scarred and pallid face. He turns to the woman next to him, a sardonic grin on his face.

"So, who are you?"

[ancient_justice]

"Good afternoon," the lady says politely. "Do you want my name, my profession, or what I stand for?"

It would all be an answer to that question.

[the_prince_of_crows]

Sevatar thinks for a moment, eyes turned towards the ceiling.

"Usually when I ask that, I get a name. Those other things are fine as well."

[ancient_justice]

"My name is Ma'at," she says, with a little smile. "Which I suppose tells you very little. The profession is goddess, and I stand for justice."

[the_prince_of_crows]

"A goddess? I don't think I've met one of those before."

He takes a swig of his beer. "My name is Sevatar, the profession is murderer, and I stand for justice, judgement and punishment."

[ever_lovin]

Ben comes in, his usual blue uniform replaced by one in orange and black. He does a double take when he sees he's not in the engine room of the Milano and let's out a, "Whoop", when he sees Milliways has invited him back.

[rogue_wraith]

So, there's really only one way to react when a bar shows up in the middle of the ship evacuating you and the newly formed squadron that Command was trying to shove together in the wake of the Death Star runs. Turns out, funnily enough, the Empire doesn't like it when you blow up their new shiny death stations.

Who knew?

So when Wedge finds a bar in the middle of Home One... welp.

If he's sane, this is amazing. If he's lost his marbles... at least he'll have a good time while other people panic. Either way... things are looking up.

Or they will be, once he finds a 'tender.

[iprotectyou]

A giant of a man sitting at the bar beams at the newcomer.

"There's no tender," he says, his Basic heavily accented.

"You just order what you want, and it shows up by magic. Hi, I'm Baze Malbus. May the Force of others be with you!"

[rogue_wraith]

"No you're not." Wedge snorts, his Basic coming at a faster clip, used to calling out commands under a hail of canon fire. "And I'll even be nice and not bop you one for taking his name in vain, since you're going to get me a drink."

[iprotectyou]

"What?" the man who apparently isn't Baze Malbus says, his tongue thick and much slower than this newcomer's.

"I... I've never met anyone who knew me but I didn't know them," Baze says, giving him a sidelong look.

"But if you want a drink, your first one's free."

[rogue_wraith]

"You better believe it buddy." Wedge walks with a confidence that is utterly ignoring the fact that he just told off a guy that is both taller and broader than him, who is evidently fond of carrying around an actual canon like it's a personal weapon. "Corellian Ale."

[iprotectyou]

"Bar, tell this man I'm Baze Malbus," Baze pleads with the counter. She pops up a Corellian Ale and a napkin to that effect.

"See, even the furniture agrees with me. Bar never lies. She's got a wicked sense of humor, though. What's your name?"

[childofrebellion]

This wasn't the cantina Cassian was heading for but Milliways has better caf and is safer, he loosens his leather jacket slightly as he enters.

When he sees a familiar flight suit, he walks over to see if the pilot's one he knows. At the counter he orders his own caf and says, "Just order. What squadron are you with?"

[rogue_wraith]

Wedge blinks at this stranger in wide-eyed innocence while he fervently ignores the starbird emblazoned on his shoulder.

"Squadron?" He repeats, as if he'd never heard of such a thing before in his LIFE.

Pays to be cautious when your current bounty could buy a nice little apartment on Couruscant.

[childofrebellion]

Cassian shakes his head, he's not on base and this pilot's probably new to Milliways, its not like him to be so incautious. Its just been a while since he was near someone so clearly Alliance, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed that, "Of course not, but a pilot? I fly a U-wing if you know of them. Cassian Andor."

A starfighter pilot, which is what this man is no question will know that detail and its a beginning. His job is building trust, he can do it here and be honest, which is a nice change. Cassian offers his hand to the pilot.

[rogue_wraith]

Wedge did not just squeak like a five year old girl. That was DEFINITELY someone else you heard there, shut up.

No really, shut up, he's a grown man who does not squeak when he meets his heroes.

Such liars we have here today.

"Ca...Cassian Andor? The Cassian Andor? But... your name's on the wall. I mean. Some of us don't believe it, because, I mean, there's always theories but..." And no, Wedge actually hasn't stopped shaking Cassian's hand for these last few minutes.

[childofrebellion]

This is weird. Cassian's work has never been that well known around the Rebellion, its better that way,

"I hope there's not another of me. Theories about what? I'm just an Intelligence officer."

He should probably try and get his hand back.