Right-oh, folks, before we get too much going here, let me state clearly:
this rpg is going to start in a setting that is essentially the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar, either in another time or in an alternate reality. Characters from that story are welcome to materialize here, but my character(s) will not act as if it/they know(s) those people from the beginning. I'm not claiming any rights to that storyline or any such thing. I'm here for fun like the rest of you.
Same rules as any other RPG apply. Please don't join if you don't have a working knowledge of Hitchiker's Guide, please.
If I drop out of the action, you're welcome to keep going.
Also... third-person past-tense is preferred. Any non-God-mod species is acceptable. No canon Animorphs characters allowed. No canon H2G2 characters allowed. It is okay to use MINOR canon characters from the works of other authors, even if those characters die by the end of their respective books. You may recognize one of the entities in this scene as just such a character.
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In a perfectly nondescript old bar somewhere perfectly out-of-the-way...."Bartender, I'd like a Siberian Roulette, please."
"You sure about that, Miss?"
"My planet just exploded. I'm sure."
"Mmmn. It happens to the best of us."
A tiny, dark-haired woman plunked herself weakly onto a barstool. A tall, thin creature of indeterminate origins followed her like a shadow, standing behind her.
Cortez, what is a Siberian Roulette?"It's a drink called a Russian Roulette, a mix of everything behind the bar, on the rocks. I'm trusting that the bartender has something to neutralize every dangerous substance in there. If there isn't something to cancel each acid, base, and toxin, then I'm dead. It's also notoriously expensive, because it requires him to open anything back there left unopened. Even drain cleaner. Any more questions?"
Yes. Will you please order me one?"Sure as shootin'."
The woman raised a hand to hail the bartender.
"Did you hear him?"
The bartender nodded. He paused briefly in his actions and turned to face the woman directly.
"Miss, you understand that for business reasons I must ask you to pay in advance?"
"Naturally."
The human woman held her hand under the beam of the scanner next to the bar. The device made a small beeping sound, and the bartender immediately resumed decanting various unlabelled liquids into two tall glass tumblers.
Brilliance Cortez watched disinterestedly as the bartender carefully measured a few drops from a particularly hostile-looking bottle of an electric blue substance. The contents of the glass began to glow faintly with a hazy violet light. To the tender's credit, his expression hadn't changed, and he hadn't yet broken a sweat.
A female Andalite walked slowly forward to stand behind the apathetic patron and her curious companion. Her eyestalks rotated slowly to scan the room behind her.
<There are three possibilities here, as I see it, Cortez.>
"Do tell."
<First, perhaps the bartender has done this before, and he is certain that no harm will come of it.>
"Allowed."
<Second, perhaps he does not mind if this concoction kills you.>
"Acknowledged as a possibility."
<Third, perhaps he assumes you can morph out of any injury it does you before you die.>
"Dismissed as erroneous. If you've been watching, already three ingredients have been added that induce rapid unconsciousness in humans. He has not added any stimulants yet to counter them, so the probability stands that I would be unable to morph out. Regardless, one does not order any form of Suicide unless one is already willing to pay the price for it, both in money and in potential personal suffering."
<Your point is valid. I see now a fourth possibility.>
"I assure you, I am all ears."
<Perhaps he assumes you wish to die, or at the very least are in a mental state to risk it.>
"For an Andalite you are stunningly obtuse sometimes, Karillian."
<I do what I can.>
"Was that humour?"
<I am certain I do not know.>
Cortez, we both know it's pointless to argue humour with her. There's just no knowing."Allowed, Islington. It's pointless, but nevertheless it's amusing."
Susususuusuuu..., the creature's laughter had an odd way of making a person's skin crawl. It slithered across the mind like a snake through dry leaves.
Allowed. Amusing... sususuusuuu.THUNK.
Two very benign-looking glass tumblers struck the bar, interrupting the conversation. The liquid they contained was vaguely iridescent, but at least the violet glow was reduced to a shimmer.
"There you have it, folks. Now for a bit of legal business. Ahem." The bartender cleared his throat and recited what was clearly a well-rehearsed and familiar piece of literature.
"You acknowledge that by ordering this in the presence of witnesses, you waive your right to hold me accountable for the consequences of your request, whatever they may be?"
"I acknowledge. I persist in this request." A rueful smile broke across Cortez' face, but there was no joy in it.
"Do you speak for your companion?"
I speak for myself. The risks are acknowledged, and she has already agreed to cover my expenses in this establishment."So be it. Have at it, my self-destructive darlings." The bartender turned on his heel and walked away, picking up empty shot glasses from two less-conscious patrons as he went.
Well, Cortez, what is the protocol for this?"Raise your glass and repeat after me." Cortez held up her shimmering drink. A few small sparks skittered across the surface. The creature Islington rustled his wings softly and imitated her action.
"To Schroedinger!"
To Schroedinger...? Cortez CLINKed her glass against his.
"Right. Bottoms up." Cortez downed half the contents of the tumbler in a gulp and three sips. She paused a moment, considering the flavour, and winced briefly before swigging down the rest.
Islington sipped briefly, broke into a wide grin, and chugged the remainder of the Roulette.
So... why to Schroedinger?"Because God either does or does not play dice with the universe, and perhaps He does both."
I'm sure I wouldn't know. "Who are you kidding, Is? You're an angel, aren't you?"
Of course. That doesn't mean I can guess at His motives, though. "Oh, well. A door is a door whether or not it's open, a cat is a cat even when it's a paradox, and I believe our good and skillful bartender has chosen to let us live this evening."
So much for that."I know. More's the pity, eh?"
<I think I shall never understand this human preoccupation with self-destruction.>
"All the better for you. Would you like anything, Karillian? I'm feeling generous tonight."
<After your planet explodes, you feel generous. I am baffled.>
"All the better for you. My offer stands."
<...I think I shall decline. I will be on the ship awaiting your return and our collective departure.>
"All the better for you."
The Andalite nodded once, an oddly human expression, considering. She backed up three steps, turned, and walked out the door.
What's eating her?"Time. Bartender, I'd like a Scotch, please."
He nodded and moments later produced a glass of the familiar brown liquor. Cortez ran her hand across the scanner again to cover the cost. She mopped her brow with her dark blue beach towel and then reached into the pocket of her rather tattered grey jacket, pulling out a well-worn old book. Still vaguely readable on the front cover were two words printed in big, friendly letters.
DON'T PANIC.
