(Untitled)

[works_in_space]

Kirk is not surprised to get a cupcake shaped like a stovepipe hat with his coffee today. it is February 12, after all. And that's one of those days that means a lot to many people, being the birthday of both Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin (literally on the same day in 1809

Comments

[isaysimplewords]

[OOC: I'm gonna be on sporadic slowtime here, what with classes and schoolwork and such, but I could not help myself.]

If Cal were telepathic, and the type to eavesdrop, and further if he were stupid enough to comment on what he so rudely overheard, his response to Kirk's conundrum would be a very simple one, just two words:

People suck.

As it is, though, he's just checking out the cupcake, because it's a serious work of art.

(That he is showing more interest in the cupcake than the man to whom it belongs says a great deal about how much progress he's made with the idea of "fictional" people in Milliways. Once you've met Mickey Mouse, and your friend has relocated to the Star Wars universe, James Kirk is not that big a surprise.)

(No matter how many hours you wasted watching the original Star Trek stoned out of your gourd.)

"Special occasion?"

[works_in_space]

"Lincoln's birthday. February 12. The Bar apparently knows that I'm something of a Lincoln buff." The Bar always knows more than it should, which bothers Jim a tiny bit (and lot less than it used to). "I think the brim is chocolate."

[isaysimplewords]

"Sounds like her," Cal says with a nod. "Especially the chocolate part." He sips his coffee and says thoughtfully, "You know, they keep the calendar with the dates on it here, but I don't think I've heard anyone say what year it is. I don't think it would mean much, but the dates don't either, really."

Cal doesn't generally think much about how time works in Milliways. It tends not to be worth the headache. It's still interesting sometimes, though.

[works_in_space]

"I think that the year would be incalculable. Billions of years after the Earth has been swallowed by the Sun, possibly trillions. I think that the date is maintained just to have some sense of order or passage of time for patrons.

"If it matters, my year is 2288." He sips at his coffee anew.

[isaysimplewords]

Right, the end of the universe thing. Cal still tends to think of that more geographically than temporally, even though that's both impossible and contradicted by the Window. Though really, it's not any more impossible than Milliways itself.

"Came here from 1997," he answers. He's getting used to putting it that way - it's perfectly true, and saves him from having to explain that he isn't really from anywhere at the moment. "Cal Chandler." He offers a hand to shake.

[works_in_space]

"Jim Kirk." He shakes Cal's hand. "I'm a little familiar with your era, thanks to the Bar as well as some studies."

[isaysimplewords]

"Nice to meet you, Jim," Cal says. He suspects Kirk (he can't help thinking of the man as Kirk) could probably one-up him in era familiarity. He never watched Star Trek sober if he could possibly avoid it. The songs were famously terrible, to start with.

(Cal, being from a musical world, has slightly different memories of popular culture than most people do.)

"I think you're the farthest from the future I've met," he remarks. "Most people are from ahead of me, but for the most part they're all within the next decade or so."

[works_in_space]

"I've noticed that tendency. I can't say if it reflects on whoever or whatever controls the place, though. But it is...curious.

"I have a friend, however, who's from several thousand years in the future, from a radically different world." Where some of the people have tentacles, among other things.

[isaysimplewords]

"I could probably count the people I've met from before me on one hand," Cal says. Then he takes a few seconds to stop himself from doing so.

"That sounds interesting. A lot of the worlds here seem to be - kind of the same, with just a couple things that are different. You'd think there'd be more variety." Even things about Milliways that are less strange have a strangeness all of their own.

[works_in_space]

"You mean in terms of worlds that would be less parallel? I'm starting to think that there is some underlying rule of evolution that affects not species or even worlds, but timelines as well. Which sounds outlandish, but I've seen some things along the way in my life that would match it." Like at least three alternate Earths in his galaxy.

[isaysimplewords]

Cal can't help but laugh.

"Outlandish? Here? Is that even possible? That makes as much sense as anything else."

[works_in_space]

"I see you've been here long enough to get a sense of the place. But this goes beyond the Bar.

"Or seems to. If, as some suggest, there are an infinite number of timelines, the force running the Bar might just be selecting from a sample set of its liking, ignoring worlds that don't serve the plans.

"Never mind that the Bar also has surprisingly few non-humans." Which has always bugged Jim.

[isaysimplewords]

Cal listens thoughtfully, sipping his coffee.

"I guess there'd have to be some kind of limit. I mean, this place is . . ." He pauses, searching for words. His vocabulary isn't very well-equipped for this kind of discussion. "Sometimes, trying to look all the way across the room makes my eyes cross," he says finally, "and sometimes I can do it no problem. But it's not - infinite."

He sounds a little doubtful even as he says that last. Milliways always has enough tables, enough space at the Bar, enough chairs and sofas by the fireplace. If there is a limit, then what is it?

[works_in_space]

It's Jim's turn to think. "Hmm. The room has always seems as big as it needs to be, but not too big. But I never thought to ask anyone else what they see. It is possible that no two people see the same Bar?

"If so, that does imply something about the nature of the room as at least something of a psychic phenomenon. Which in turn raises new questions." He looks puzzled. And intrigued.

[isaysimplewords]

"That - yeah." Cal nods slowly. He's getting in over his head, but this is rarely something that stops him from talking. "I mean. Everyone seems to recognize it as a bar when they come in, but - I kinda doubt that bars from your time look the same as mine. And I met this guy from the eighteen hundreds the other day, Ben Wade, looked like a cowboy, and I'd bet money that his bars don't look anything like ours. But - it's all still a bar. To all of us."

[works_in_space]

"Bars in my time don't vary that much from yours. At least the bars I know. But then, bars at starbases are usually simple and San Fransisco is a bit old-fashioned. But I take your meaning." He'll have to ask Katherine when he sees her, assuming she wants to talk about something so trivial.