The Bar In The Middle of The Multiverse (General In-Persona Chat)

[MWBailey]

"all but him, here and now, wherever and whenever this is," Brantley said. "Old Fritzie found him in a jaunt to the Triassic, I think. Or maybe I'm mixing up the eras again. he's a small one, sort of a dwarf offshoot, as I understand it. 'bout two feet tall, crest and all--!" a squawk interrupted him as the animal in question suddenly flapped to a stop on the bar and eyed Brantley hopefully.

"Croak?" it queried.

"Cute lil fellow, ain't he?"

[Cassandra Sheffield]

Cassandra suppressed the urge to run away. She managed a weak smile, and said, "Um, sure- cute." Tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, she continued, "I'd best write that advertisement, er- I didn't get your name. Mine's Cassandra, or Cass."

[MWBailey]

"Marius W. Brantley, most folks just call me 'Brantley' or 'M.W.' "

He pulled his ID wallet and showed the A.U.N.T.S.A.L.L.Y. agent card and the Crosstime Customs Regulator's badge. I work for, um, The Pandimensional Committee. We handle interdimensional contraband crimes, and safeguard Pandimensional Causality. Put shortly, I'm what amounts to a Time Cop, though that's not really quite it."

Chthuga purred in a voice that was silky, seductive, and somehow infinitely, diabolically frightening, as the flaming serpentlike tentacles amongst her auburn hair danced and writhed.

Sally called, "Marius, dear, I'm thirsty, and milady Cthuga is getting possessive again. Do hurry back," She said. Was there just the slightest note of concern in her voice?

"On my way, dear ones!" Brantley called cheerily. "If you'll excuse me..." he said politely to Cass.

[Cassandra Sheffield]

She nodded. "Of course. A pleasure to meet you, sir." As he left, she pulled out her notebook and pen to write an ad. "Shouldn't make it too complicated," she muttered, "but I don't want to get cheated out of a proper ship..." Finally, the finished ad read: 'ATTENTION: Airship Wanted. Must be legally attained, in good repair, and fairly priced. For more information, contact Ms. Cassandra Sheffield on the airship Bluekeel.

[Zeppelin Kapitan Fritz]

A man rapelling from a rope enters the bar, apparently having done so through the ceiling. "Well, I sure didn't think that crevice was this deep. Now where exactly am I?" He examined his surroundings. "I'm in a tavern, not unlike Doyle's back home in Chicago. Now how do I get down from here?"

That last question was quickly answered as he fell to the floor after losing his grip on rope. "I'm just fine. Apparently the floor was a bit lower than I expected." he said to the bar patrons upon his hard landing. "I'm Nathan Kowalski. Pleased to meet all of you."

Shortly thereafter, a large golden retriever walked through the bar door and sat down on Nathan's feet. "Hello Solomon, I see you found the easy way to get here." said Nathan to his dog.

[MWBailey]

Brantley, Sally, and Cthuga looked up. "Odd," purred the diabolically sensual voice of the Old One. "Whence comes that rope?"

"From whichever way is 'up' outside these walls, I imagine," Brantley said. "Assuming there's actually a place out there, or even a 'there' to be elsewhere than here."

"Croak," said the pteranodon nudging his tumbler.

"Eh?" Brantley grunted. "What? you're still thirsty? how can you drink so much and still fly?"

"The pteranodon purred as Chthuga stroked his skull crest with a surprisingly handlike set of tentacles. He then then croaked several times in answer to Brantley's question.

"If you say so," Brantley replied. "But I refuse to think you can beat me at checkers with one wing behind your back!"

"AWK!"

"NEVER!"

"Bartender, bring the checker set over here, if you will," Sally called out. "We'll never get them calmed down 'til they play a game or three. Sir," she asked the gentleman who had just then arrived by rope, "Would you or your canine companion care to round out our little tournament, or perhaps lay a wager or two?"

[Professor Phineas Brownsm]

Whilst leaning up against the bar watching everything going on, "pint of your finest real beer please?" Prof. Phineas asked the barman.

The professor then gets out a notebook and opens it at a very well used page titled "how to obtain unobtainium".

"Hmmm..." He ponders to himself.

[Cassandra Sheffield]

Cassandra pinned her ad on the bulletin board in a conspicuous place, then stayed to look it over. Some of the flyers were quite interesting, such as one placed there by a Doctor ELB that asked for volunteers to help test a "marvelous time machine of my own design". Finally, Cassandra wandered over to the bar, where she politely requested (and received) a ginger ale. She sat, sipping it contentedly, and simply watched the action around her.

[Alexis Voltaire]

A youngish foxfaced man scurries into the room, looking hurriedly over his shoulder with a hunted expression. He is dressed in gray trousers and a white shirt under a fine-looking purple waistcoat, with a lacy cravat at his throat.

These details are rather overshadowed by his most prominent feature - foxfaced is not meant figuratively, he has a reddish furred face and snout, yellow eyes, and large pointed furry ears.

He seems to relax once he sees his surroundings, assuming a regal yet easygoing bearing. "Damned temporal storms." He mutters, pulling a large golden disk that seems too wide and flat to be a watch from his pocket. He opens it with furry prehensile paws, revealing a sundial-like structure, surrounded by spinning points of colored light. The bottom half of the disk is filled with moss, and has several gray stones planted at intervals around it. He frowns after a short consultation, revealing his teeth and the tip of his tongue, and closes the disk before pocketing it.

"Barkeep, pint of your best brown ale, and a toasted crumpet if you've got them." He says, sitting with one elbow on the bar, turned so that he can face the door.

[Cassandra Sheffield]

Cassandra watched the fox-like young man with interest- she was certainly seeing a lot of new things here. Wherever "here" was. Impulsively, she decided to introduce herself, and took a seat next to him. "Hello," she said, putting out her hand for a handshake. "My name's Cassandra Sheffield. Or Cass."

[Alexis Voltaire]

"Morriganus Redleaf." The man introduced himself, taking Cassandra's hand and pressing it to his lips in a formal kiss. "Or Morgan."

When his ale arrived he sipped from it in a careful manner, and crunched the crumpet down in two bites.

His eyes became more serious, and his tone less charming though still curious and civil as he spike again. "Tell me, do you come from a world of humans?" He spoke the last word as though it had an unfamiliar taste.

[Cassandra Sheffield]

Cassandra, unused to such polite attitude, blushed deeply when Morriganus- Morgan- kissed her hand instead of shaking it. The time he took to eat and drink gave Cassandra a moment to compose herself, and her face was back to its regular color when Morgan asked his question. "A world of humans? Why, of-" Cassandra stopped, realizing that Earth might be just as strange to some beings as their planets would be to her. "Uh, yes, I do. Is there anything you were curious about?"

[MWBailey]

Brantley, enjoying his drink with Sally and Chthuga, perked up when he heard the term "temporal storms." His interest piqued, he got out his blackbox and his cigarette case, linked the two with a cord that paid out from the cigarette case, and began searching for the storm in question.

Such storms, in his and his organization's experience, tended to happen when somebody, or more often several somebodies, were mucking about with present and past and the causal relationship of the two; in other words, trying to change a specific future by altering aspects of a certain past. The attempts usually failed, or produced outcomes far different from those intended, since such efforts tended to be based on rather simplistic models of causal spacetime -- when a model was used at all (too few variable allowances, for one thing). The almost inevitable result was what was known vernacularly as a "temporal storm" -- and such was the meat and potatoes of an A.U.N.T.S.A.L.L.Y. agent such as himself.

"Oh, Beloved," Cthuga said in an exasperated tone, her flames rising in irritation and worry, "must you intervene again? The last time cost us nearly three hundred parsecs and a betrothal meeting with the Great Ones."

"It's what I do, Sweet One," Brantley answered. "It's the reason the Committee allows me to keep my tentacles, remember?"

Brantley turned to the foxfaced gentleman and the lady he conversed with, blackbox in hand. "excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing..."

[Lady Chrystal]

Chrystal looked up, startled.

"Oh, my apologies. I drifted away again. My mind was miles away - or is it years? I can never tell."

She looked around the little group and smiled.

"And I believe someone mentioned crumpets. That sounds like a most civilised idea, should there be any remaining?"

She opened a boxy leather pouch on her wide belt, taking out a large piece of jade and placing it on the bar.

"And drinks for the company, if you please, Mr Barkeep."

[Professor Phineas Brownsm]

Prof. Phineas looks up from notebook..... with a grin "did someone mention crumpets?"

[Lady Chrystal]

"Hello, I don't believe we have been introduced. My name is Chrystal and I believe I heard that young man asking about a toasted crumpet. I was hoping there may be more."

She curtseyed as she spoke, smiling at the man with the notebook.

[Professor Phineas Brownsm]

"Hello Hello! it is an absolute pleasure. I'm The Professor, but some do call me Prof. Phineas." said with a slight bow and a smile.

[Lady Chrystal]

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor Phineas," she gestured towards his notebook. "May I enquire as to your researches? I am engaged in aetheric studies at the moment, but I fear that I am no academic."

At that moment, a plate of steaming crumpets arrived, dripping with butter and she took one delicately.

[Alexis Voltaire]

"I am looking for someone with a knowledge of the human magic of altering time and dimensions." Morriganus replies. "My world, as you might gather, shares many traditions and mannerisms with yours. But those with faces like your own were unknown to us until quite recently. More's the pity, if the civil ones of your kind resemble yourself."

A shadow of a smile crosses his features, and he continues. "But the humans that have come to my world are mostly brutes of a kind that shame the thinking races. We attempted to remove them by magics of a similar kind that brought them there. But I am afraid that has only worsened the problem and created others such as the temporal storms." He nods to the man who has expressed an interest in their conversation. "I just barely escaped one of their hunting parties by using a storm gateway, but I did not expect this place to be my destination. And by the readings from my Stardial it will be some time before anyone can return safely."

[Cassandra Sheffield]

Cassandra frowned thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I can't help you much when it comes to mucking about with time and space, but perhaps this gentleman- Mr. Brantley- can. Uhm, if I may ask, what exactly is a Stardial, and what does it do?"

[MWBailey]

"Yes, we do tend to be a particularly deadly species."Brantley observed wryly; as usual when he said such things, his tentacles (originally the result of alien surgical technological experimentation) threatened to make themselves known. Damn things sometimes had a mind of their own. "We often get ourselves into places and situations far and away different from anything we're prepared for, and make mistakes." Brantley smiled as if at a rather dark personal joke, and Chthuga (who incidentally looked more octopoid than human, and more conflagrational than corporeal) Purred, the noise sounding as if it were an odd sort of amused chuckle (which it was). There was a pause as if the air were full of unspoken words, and then Brantley inclined his head in Cthuga's direction. "Understood, sweet one."

He turned back to Morriganus. "I have been reminded that there are some things that I cannot reveal, but what I can should suffice for our, or rather your, purposes. He produced his badge wallet, showing his I.D. as an agent of AUNTSALLY and his Temporal Customs Officer badge. "I'm Marius Wendell Brantley," he said. "A.U.N.T.S.A.L.L.Y. is an acronym for the Committee that oversees intertemporal trade and interaction between the planes. I'm a Customs Officer for the Committee. Customs, because trying to police all of time and space itself would be ludicrously  impossible. We focus on the suppression and control of contraband items that affect the causality of Time and Space and create problematic intertemporal relational webs that disrupt the conventionally-agreed course of proper existence."

[Professor Phineas Brownsm]

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor Phineas," she gestured towards his notebook. "May I enquire as to your researches? I am engaged in aetheric studies at the moment, but I fear that I am no academic."

At that moment, a plate of steaming crumpets arrived, dripping with butter and she took one delicately.

"Of course.... I'm looking for new ideas for my infamous Ginger Braü emporium, this particular one involves unobtainium" says Prof. Phineas then taking a sip of his beverage

[Alexis Voltaire]

Morriganus's eyes widen in momentary alarm when he takes a closer look at Brantley's companion. While he gives little thought to her(?) tentacles, the ethereal flames about the being's body bring to mind legends of demon-spirits from his home world.

Morriganus is not one to forget his manners, however, and he hides his shock with a quick grin that shows the tips of white canines. "Well, it seems you may be exactly the sort of person I am looking for. I must admit, few of my people have any great knowledge of time alteration, it is too new of a concept to us. Although it seems that those who brought it there hardly know better themselves." He adds with a sniff.

Morriganus reaches into a pocket and produces the golden disk. "I have secrets of my own, but I believe in these circumstances the council will forgive me revealing this one.... A stardial is a magical measuring device. They can be calibrated for many purposes, mine is set to tune into the natural rhythms of time and space in my home world."

He opens the device carefully and sets it on the bar so that both Cassandra and Brantley can see it clearly. The tiny colored points of light cast minute shadows from the golden dial as they orbit the edge of the disk. "Some of the lights correspond to stars in our sky, though at a greatly sped-up rate for quicker observation." He explains. "Some are indicators corresponding to what the dial is calibrated to measure. Reading it is tricky, but this here," He indicates with a short black claw where the shadow of a red light and a white light meet. "Is not good."

[Lady Chrystal]

"Of course.... I'm looking for new ideas for my infamous Ginger Braü emporium, this particular one involves unobtainium" says Prof. Phineas then taking a sip of his beverage

"Really? How strange, I saw a sign indicating a store of that very element. Now where was it..?"

She looked confused for a moment, then shook her head.

"No I cannot recall. Do you have a reliable supplier, Professor?"

[MWBailey]

Morriganus's eyes widen in momentary alarm when he takes a closer look at Brantley's companion. While he gives little thought to her(?) tentacles, the ethereal flames about the being's body bring to mind legends of demon-spirits from his home world.

Morriganus is not one to forget his manners, however, and he hides his shock with a quick grin that shows the tips of white canines. "Well, it seems you may be exactly the sort of person I am looking for. I must admit, few of my people have any great knowledge of time alteration, it is too new of a concept to us. Although it seems that those who brought it there hardly know better themselves." He adds with a sniff.

Morriganus reaches into a pocket and produces the golden disk. "I have secrets of my own, but I believe in these circumstances the council will forgive me revealing this one.... A stardial is a magical measuring device. They can be calibrated for many purposes, mine is set to tune into the natural rhythms of time and space in my home world."

He opens the device carefully and sets it on the bar so that both Cassandra and Brantley can see it clearly. The tiny colored points of light cast minute shadows from the golden dial as they orbit the edge of the disk. "Some of the lights correspond to stars in our sky, though at a greatly sped-up rate for quicker observation." He explains. "Some are indicators corresponding to what the dial is calibrated to measure. Reading it is tricky, but this here," He indicates with a short black claw where the shadow of a red light and a white light meet. "Is not good."

Brantley puts the blackbox down on the bar with the end that sports a large-ish opening resembling a radio dish pointing toward the Star Dial. He examines the dial, recalling several instruments that he has seen before. He ponders for a moment, and then snaps his fingers. he takes back out his cigarette case, which he had pocketed when he proferred his badge. He pops the case open; inside, instead of the expected ten or twelve cigarettes, there is revealed what appears to be an exquisitely-miniaturized bank of very sophisticated-looking dials, viewscreens, buttons, toggles, and slide potentiometers. He touched another stud, and several more such panels flipped over like the pages of a shining metallic book, the "pages" finally coming to rest on what appeared to be a small planispheric astrolabe of the old Portuguese variety.

He manipulated several small switches in the opposing panel, and the rete and plate changed several times, until a rather complex such pairing was displayed. He compared the astrolabe with the Star dial, and nodded, apparently satisfied, then frowned as a pointer on the rete crossed a certain intersection of nine tiny lines. "Uh-oh," he said. "Conjunction?"