in Milliways

[searchingfordistraction]

Rich Brook enjoys filming for The Storyteller. He honestly does. It may not be the role of a lifetime, but he could do worse than to spend the day reading fairy tales to kids.

He's always liked fairy tales.

Still, when Milliways pops up during a break in filming, he doesn't turn it down. He glances back over his shoulder first; then, when no one else seems to see anything amiss, he goes in.

At the Bar, he asks for a club soda with lime. He could have something stronger if he liked - with time stopped at home, no one would be the wiser - but it seems wrong for the Storyteller to drink while he's technically on duty.



[OOC: For clarity, Jim is in character as Rich, and will be making a much stronger effort to remain in character than he usually does in Milliways. And yes, he really is coming in from filming. DVDs don't make themselves.]

Comments

[captaincrieff]

Martin's not met anyone from his universe -- or around here -- who looks like Rich yet, so nothing seems odd about him.

'Rich' may notice something a bit odd about Martin, though. He looks mostly familiar, except for the ginger hair, freckles, and he couldn't pull off the average Sherlock height of 6'1" with even the most extraordinary of lifts.

He's in his Man with Van clothes today, and has just had a fairly easy job of moving a collection of Beanie Babies from Mousehole to Chipping Norton. The only reason he doesn't put up a fuss about the bar today is those Beanie Babies, because they mean he's not all sweaty and exhausted like he normally is after a job.

He's recently begun to notice that the Bar seems to occasionally forget to charge him for things, but he still only gets a glass of pop. It wouldn't do to take advantage of her hospitality, now.

[searchingfordistraction]

(Ginger hair, freckles, and - obviously - persona can be faked. At home, the height would be the deciding factor, since not even Sherlock is capable of making himself several inches shorter, but Jim knows very well that in Milliways, height is just another variable.

He's either another Sherlock, or the first non-Sherlock with that face Jim has run into. Either way: not boring.)

"Nice to have a place where you know the bartender will always get it right, isn't it?" Rich says.

. . . he's not sure that made as much sense as it did before he started saying it. That tends to happen when he's working. It's hard to put his own sentences together properly when half his brain is full of someone else's.

[captaincrieff]

"Hmm?" Martin looks up to see who's talking to him. He hardly even noticed Rich there, but he's tired from driving to Cornwall and back.

"Oh, right. Yeah. It was a bit weird at first, but you get used to it."

He sounds like he's not quite got there yet, himself.

[searchingfordistraction]

Rich nods earnestly, glad to find that he apparently made sense after all.

"Yeah," he says, "you do. Well, mostly."

To the Bar, anyway.

[captaincrieff]

Martin works with Arthur Shappey. Parsing oddly-structured sentences is part of the job.

"Do you, ah, come here often?" Martin tries uncertainly. It might be a failed attempt at a chat-up, or just really awkward conversation. It's hard to tell.

[searchingfordistraction]

It . . . really kind of is. But that question does come up a lot here, for good reason, so after a couple seconds' hesitation, Rich picks the less awkward interpretation.

"Uh, it pops up a couple times a week, maybe? I don't always come in, but it's often that it doesn't surprise me like it used to." He winces slightly. "That was fun to explain a couple times."

[captaincrieff]

"It likes to pop up for me after work," Martin says. He's fairly convinced that it's the Bar's way of making sure he doesn't starve, but he doesn't say as much. "Usually, after I've showered, but it seemed to have other plans today."

And boy, did it ever. Martin just has no idea what they are yet.

[searchingfordistraction]

"It's got me in the middle," Rich says. "Hours before I'll get to shower all this out."

He touches his unforgivingly slicked-back hair as he speaks, then pulls his hand away. He's always having to remember not to muss it between takes.

[captaincrieff]

Martin laughs an amused little laugh. "What...what do you, er, do then?"

Eloquence has never been Martin's strong suit. And he's fairly relaxed right now (£200 in one's pocket will have that effect on him). Just wait until something's got him worked up.

[sicaria]

Someone is watching him.

He's Richard. But he's—not.

He is, in fact, Jim.

Curious.

[searchingfordistraction]

(Is there any point in trying to stay in character?

Probably not. But he's not just playing Rich for fun, or to disguise himself from patrons who are devoted Holmesians, so he's going to make the effort anyway.)

Rich sips his drink, looking around in the casual manner of someone doing a little peoplewatching.

[sicaria]

She smooths down her skirts (it's the brown dress today) and takes a seat at the bar, still watching him. She does not particularly care if he finds it unsettling. People will find her unsettling whether she cares about it or not, generally speaking.

[searchingfordistraction]

Rich hadn't really noticed her before, but it's hard to keep not noticing someone who is persistently staring at you.

He glances toward her. Looks away awkwardly when they make eye contact. Glances toward her again.

". . . Can I help you?" he asks cautiously.

(He doesn't have enough information about her interactions with the other Rich Brook to even try to pretend to be him, so he's not going to bother. It would be self-defeating.)

[sicaria]

"Not sure," she murmurs. "Your name is Richard Brook, isn't it?"

The name could be said to belong to him, at least at the moment, regardless of the fact that he so very obviously does not belong to it.

(If she hadn't met this Jim beforehand, she might not have caught it. But whatever you put on top of a person to make them into someone else, the person underneath is still the same. Richard Brook does not have precisely that complement of scars.)

[searchingfordistraction]

"- Yes?"

Maybe she's from his world and she's seen some of his work? That's what the staring would mean back home, especially if she'd needed a few seconds to work out why he looked familiar. But how likely is it in Milliways? Rich has never met someone from his world here, at least not as far as he can tell.

[sicaria]

"I know three people with your face," she says. "You present every sign of being a Richard as opposed to a Jim."

[searchingfordistraction]

"Oh," he says, bemused.

There's a brief pause.

". . . wait, a what?"

Did she say Jim?

[semicharmed]

Matt is not at the bar, he's behind the bar.

Well, actually, he's not behind the bar either. He's coming out the kitchen door, which happens to be behind-and-more-or-less-adjacent-to the bar, and balancing a deep glass dish in two oven-mitted hands. It smells like cheese and herbs and potatoes-- and actually pretty good.

There's just waaaay too much of it.

He sets the dish down on the edge of the counte--

Oh!



Hey, Probable-Antagonist-of-the-Story Guy.

[searchingfordistraction]

(Hmm. He had no trouble with this one last time. Someone's blown his cover.)

Rich automatically reaches out to help steady the dish, then notices the oven mitts just in time.

"Oh, well, maybe not, sorry," he says, pulling his hands back in a way he hopes indicates he would absolutely help if doing so wouldn't result in second-degree burns.

[semicharmed]

"Oh yeah, sorry, it's--"

Maybe he's getting a false positive here. Maybe they really were two distinct dudes, and he refuses to believe it because of how specific that impression was.

"Hot," Matt decides.

[searchingfordistraction]

"Yes," he agrees. ". . . do you work here?"

He doesn't often see non-waitrats coming out of the kitchen here. Of course, to be fair, he doesn't spend a lot of time watching the kitchen door, either.

[semicharmed]

"Oh, no, no."

Matt shakes his head.

"Cooking is a ... new hobby. And there's actually a lot of space back there, depending when you go."

[searchingfordistraction]

"Oh. Well, it smells like it's working out well," he offers.

Rich isn't much of a cook, himself.

[semicharmed]

"Thanks."

He brightens a little, even though-- he either should or shouldn't disengage.

Maybe if he just stops trying to figure this out.

"Um, I tried one, it was okay. I can't get the spices right."

[searchingfordistraction]

"Well, you're your own worst critic," Rich says, then pauses. As sayings go, that one's a bit more difficult to apply to complete strangers than most.

"Theoretically, anyway," he amends. "If you want to get better at it."