Think of all the luck you got.

[not_lost]

There were a lot of really weird and screwed-up scenarios that Fiona Gallagher could imagine herself in. Her involvement in these scenarios was usually begrudging and her father usually the cause, but picturing herself caught up in something beyond most people's limit of belief had officially became much easier after this past summer. (Finding yourself crouching in a hole in your backyard, covered in sweat and dirt, and ecstatic over having unearthed a dead relative's remains could do that to a girl.)

Despite that, she had to admit that the Nexus was pretty fucking crazy, even by Gallagher standards.

It had been just at a week hotel time since she'd opened the downstairs bathroom door and found the Nexus beyond, but having a magical luxury hotel where her toilet should be freaked her out a lot less than the fact that the place was essentially free. In Fiona's experience, if something sounded too good to be true, it always was, and she probably should've gone home, chalked the whole experience up to some bad seafood and never thought about it again.

She probably would have, too, if the people at the desk hadn't told her the bit about time differences and job openings.

Christmas was right around the corner, and she'd spent almost everything Jimmy had left her on that damned deal for work. (Not that she was complaining; the money had come at the perfect time, and now they'd have enough plastic cups in the house that they probably wouldn't need to wash a single glass for half a year.) Back home, it would cost her 150 bucks to get herself licensed to sell alcohol, and she'd have no guarantee of being hired anywhere. Here, they apparently only cared that you could mix a drink, and a lifetime with Frank had more than prepared her for that. The great hourly wage and tips she was earning meant she could actually afford to get everything out of lay-away this year and maybe even buy some extra stocking stuffers for the kids. The circumstances may have been weird, but for Fiona taking the position was a no-brainer.

Today was her third day behind the bar at the Smoking Room. She'd allowed herself to come through early enough to get a solid nap before her shift and was now practically chipper, turning a wide smile to the guests waiting for a drink.

"What can I get you?"

For the first time in a long time, she actually felt good about the future.

Comments

[bonetown]

When they were little, Jane sometimes used to make up stories and make Alex think that there were whole other worlds out there with other Alex's. Okay, so maybe they weren't little. And okay, so maybe Alex still lies awake at night and thinks about what Other-Alex is doing, but she's pretty sure that Other-Alex doesn't have a sweet bar like this in her universe.

Wait. What if she's Other-Alex? This is starting to hurt her brain and the day's barely even started.

This is way too much thinking to be doing without a drink in hand. "Do you have any weird parallel universe drinks?" she asks, eyes bright. "In a pinch, I'll take ribs," she says, waving it away like it's no big deal. "Ooh, do ribs come from a different animal here? Are they cow ribs?"

[not_lost]

"Depends on what you consider weird," Fiona answered, smile remaining on her face but expression bemused. "I can mix you Earth drinks, and ribs don't come from any animal here because we don't serve them. We do have sandwiches, though." She handed over a little menu featuring the Smoking Room's limited selection of finger food.

"The nachos are to die for," she suggested with a nod to the laminated page. This girl didn't seem like the sort to shy away from messy eating.

[bonetown]

Alex gets super serious because, let's be honest, nachos are totally a super serious thing. She presses a hand over her heart like she's about to recite the national anthem and stares at her new best friend. "I can't not live my life without having those nachos, then," is all she says. She can run with this. Right? She might not have any of her friends or family or Rosalita's, but nachos is a start.

"I'm Alex," she introduces herself brightly, bouncing up in her stool. "From Chicago. Are you like, a parallel universe guardian angel guidance counselor?"

[not_lost]

"No kidding? I'm from Chicago, too," Fiona answered as she jotted down the nachos order and stepped quickly down to put the ticket in at the little kitchen window. "Southside, which might qualify for alternate universe depending on where you live."

Smiling easily, she braced herself against the bar in front of Alex. "I'm Fiona. What can I get you to drink with those awesome nachos?"

[bonetown]

"Oh my god," Alex says brightly, "Chicago meet-up in space," she says, her eyes bright and wide as she leans forward on the bar with both elbows supporting her weight. "I will totally take bartender's recommendation," she confides. "I can't believe you're from Chicago! This is like that time when I was in Detroit and I saw that drag queen that looked like Dave," she says, awed. "So, why are you here? Did you move or something?"

[not_lost]

"I still live in Chicago, I just work here," Fiona explained, her smile drifting into bemusement again as she began assembling a margarita. This Alex girl was really something else. "I opened my bathroom door one day and this place was on the other side. I can move back and forth between home and here, and the pay's good, so I figured why not, you know?"

The lime-garnished drink was finished and slid across the bar just in time for the telltale ding to sound from the kitchen window. Fiona stepped away and returned with a plate piled high with what had to be some of the most epic nachos in the universe. After setting the plate down in front of Alex, Fiona retrieved a fork from behind the bar and passed it over.

"You're probably going to need it," she explained. "Enjoy."

[bonetown]

Alex waves off the fork with her hand, already hand-deep into the nachos. "It's cool, I got this," she promises with a confident smile. "I'm not exactly a nacho-amateur. I am a nach-fessional," she says, leaning her head back so that the cheese and all the toppings fall into her mouth. Biggest waste of product ever is the stuff that falls onto the counter. Not that she lets it stay there.

What is she? An idiot?

Mouth full, she reaches for the margarita with her free hand and alternates between food and drink, only remembering the whole 'you're like a man-eating yeti when you eat, oh my god, is that a whole chicken?' advice Jane had given her that once. She grabs at a napkin and covers up her mouth sheepishly. "Sorry," she mumbles, swallowing down the last bite of nachos. "I was hungry." Except she's never really not. "Do you get paid for real? Like, real money dollars just to serve drinks?"

[malachai]

"Any recognizable beer behind the bar or is it all Nexus Ale or something?" Nick asked as he approached.

Yeah, he knew he shouldn't drink, but he didn't think one beer would incapacitate his mind that much. Besides, how else was he going to test his limits?

[not_lost]

"What's recognizable?" Fiona asked as she paused in wiping down the bar to grab a pilsner glass. "We got Guinness, Smithwick's, Newcastle, Sam Adams, Molson… and a shitload in the bottle."

Setting aside the glass, she reached for the lengthy beer menu and passed it over.

"Just about anything you could want, but I don't think any of it's from another planet."

[malachai]

"That would be the island version of home brew, but since you wouldn't have the first clue what that is, nevermind," he answered, the smirk indicating he knew damned well he was being confusing as fuck.

Nick took the list and scanned it. "Good thing, too. Other planets know fuck-all about good beer. Newcastle then," he said at last and set the menu down.

[not_lost]

"I keep forgetting that people here might actually be from other planets," Fiona admitted with an astonished smile. "You'd think just walking outside would remind me." Most of the time when she stepped out of the hotel, the view was beautiful but pretty normal. Sometimes, though, it was like the universe was about to spill out into her lap.

"So, have you actually been to other planets, or were you just being a smartass?" she asked as she slid the requested glass of beer across the bar.

[malachai]

"What do you think?" Nick said, with a devilish little smirk. "Never been to any other planets, but an old friend of mine had been. And she never had much to say about the food. And the way that girl put away food, she would have if it was any good."

[not_lost]

"It's hard to believe that there's nothing good out there, though," Fiona replied with a vague but emphatic motion of one hand. "I mean, statistically there's got to be another planet that knows how to cook, right? We can't be the only one."

God, she wished Lip were there. He'd have a field day with a conversation like this.

[thelostprince]

"Just bring that bottle over."

He elegantly cocked his hand in the direction of what looked to be a mostly full bottle of grain alcohol (its faint tinge of bronze, like a drop of blood in water, was oddly reassuring) gleaming next to its brothers on the back bar display. Loki was not unlike his family in that drinking was considered a fine way to pass the time, facilitate thought, or was simply a useful talent to have. Despite his size - rather slight compared to many a warrior on Asgard - he was markedly good at it, though now he knew his lineage might have had something to blame, there.

Though he was in a bar that was obviously a crossroads between worlds, where he was likely not the strangest looking person to go through, he'd muted his clothes somewhat, having whisked away the flashier gold of his armour. Even then he was still bound up rather securely in black leather with glimpses of green, but Loki was of Asgard and generally speaking they usually didn't care that much about blending in. But at least he didn't glint.

[not_lost]

There was a kind of fierce pride that came along with being a Southside kid. Even Fiona could recognize it as a defense mechanism—If you weren't proud of it, the only other option was shame—but she was no different regardless, if not strictly proud of where she came from, at least proud of having survived it. She'd had misguided moments, though, where she'd dabbled at being somebody else, had let herself be briefly drawn into the sphere of wealth and privilege despite her innate mistrust. This guy's tone of voice, the bored gesture, they spoke of a life where you didn't request things, but were rather entitled to them. It reminded Fiona of Jimmy's mom, albeit less soused.

She retrieved the bottle of scotch and a rocks glass in her own time, and poured out a measure with a skeptically arched eyebrow.

"That's an interesting fashion statement you got goin' there," she noted, and pointedly stored the bottle behind the bar.

[thelostprince]

Only in extreme cases did Loki feel the awkwardness of being out of place; hailing from the royal family in Asgard put into motion the supposition that you belonged anywhere you happened to be, at least unconsciously. Sitting in a bar in a world he could not place was in no means extreme enough to put Loki on edge.

He noted her movements without even having to think about it. She certainly didn't jump at his request, but he didn't mind that. Worrying about what other people thought of you suggested you cared enough, and if she wasn't fond of him on sight he wasn't particularly bothered. "I suppose it must be," he said, raising one shoulder in a shrug. "Yours is to mine. Where are you from?" The curiosity was real. After all, he was still sitting in a small cloud of confusion, which was not a state Loki tended to be in often.

[not_lost]

"Chicago," Fiona answered as she leaned back on her heels, watching him with a canted head. The polite reaction to her jab about his outfit was a surprise. "That's on Earth," she added, inferring easily enough that he was from some planet or alternate universe much more fond of leather than her own.

"Aren't you uncomfortable?" she asked with a nod his way. "Even in the A/C, you've gotta be hot in all that."

[thelostprince]

The name sounded familiar, which didn't mean much. When it came to geography, Loki had quite a few places crammed inside of his head. But it did sound Midgardian to him, but it wasnt an old city. (The places in Midgard never seemed to stick around for much longer than a couple hundred years, it seemed like).

At her question, he gave her a little smile, enough to show just a bit of his teeth. "I'm not, no," he said. "You would have to drop me in a volcano for me to sweat. You are human, yes?" If she was going to mention her planet in conjunction with her home, he assumed other species were not going to be beyond her.

Since she had poured it for him and there was only so long he would allow alcohol to go undrunk, he picked up his glass and drained it in one go, not with any particular zest or attempt to show off - more like he wasn't really thinking about it. It lacked the strength of the brews he was used to, but it had a pleasant flavour, like smoke and burning.

[not_lost]

"Yeah," Fiona said, and smiled despite herself, a startled, guileless reaction to having been asked something she had, until now, figured was self-evident.

"That's the first time anybody's asked me if I'm human," she explained, and poured him out another measure of scotch. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you're not."

[rangerbecket]

Raleigh's been spending most of his time working, doing as much maintenance work as he can find around the hotel. It's what he's used to, physical labor, and it beats the hell out of spending his precious ration cards on food and alcohol in the hotel.

After a long day, though, all he wants is a drink and he sinks down on a stool at the bar and grins at the girl working. "Any beer you've got on tap's just fine. I'm not picky."

[not_lost]

"Coming right up," Fiona replied with a smile, already reaching for a glass. She pulled the Sam Adams, mostly because it was closest, slopped off the head, and pulled again. There was nothing more annoying in a bar than when the beer you were paying for was half foam.

"Long day?" she asked as she gave the glass a cursory wipe down and slid it across the bar.

[rangerbecket]

"Hell yes," he says, lifting his glass to her. "Been working on roofs all day. I always preferred that to anything else since you can see everything while you're up there. Better than other shit I could come up with to do."

It's not like piloting a Jaeger, sure, but what else is? He'll take roofing.

[not_lost]

"Better money than a lot of other jobs, too," Fiona said with a pointed glance the guy's way. In her world, there wasn't much higher praise for a method of employment. "At least, that's what I hear. I have a cousin who does contract work. Total dick, but he does well."

[rangerbecket]

"I sort of dabbled in it back home. Used to be in the..." The Kaiju apparently weren't a thing in Arthur's reality and maybe they weren't in this girl's either. No sense in sounding like a crazy person.

"Used to be in the military. I liked that but you know, can't really do it here."

[not_lost]

"My kid brother wants to go into the Army," replied Fiona, her thoughts lingering a moment on Ian and his perfectly pressed ROTC uniform before the last bit of what the guy had said really sunk in.

"You can't leave?" she asked, and her eyes grew soft with a worry that was as much about herself as it was the man in front of her. Every time she came through the door to this place, it was a calculated gamble: Making money to improve the lives of her siblings vs. the possibility of being unable to get back to them for god knew how long.