Kathleen J. Forbes (forbes_md) wrote in city_limits, @ 2009-05-31 00:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | au inquisitors, kathleen forbes, patrick o'rourke |
The Store of 7 and 11 (Inquisitors)
A half hour after Hayden had issued orders for the team found Patrick and Kathleen in an alleyway across the street from the only establishment that seemed to be open in the area this late at night/early in the morning depending on one's point of view. A digital clock on a building nearby had shown it to be nearly three in the morning, local time, and the only thing open seemed to be this place called a 'Seven/Eleven'.
There had been enough time for them to realize that the people in this version of the world were indeed human, though they did seem to have a strange way of fashion by the looks of those they had so far encountered on the streets. A fashion that Kathleen found a little odd but made her look out of place with her breast plate armor and long black skirt. In order to fit in a little bit, she had unrolled a thin black robe that had been tied to the small of her back and covered her armor and weapons as best she could.
In the shadows away from the streetlights, she stood beside O'Rourke as they observed the shop and its patrons coming and going from this store with a green and red 7 and 11 signage. "What do think, Sir?" she addressed the elder Inquisitor with respect. "Shall we investigate it further inside?"
"Aye, I think it's worth at least a look." The fashions were very different indeed, at least for the women. He was overdressed in his uniform, but that in itself wasn't as strange: there were a few men he'd seen wearing uniforms of some kind, perhaps factory workers. Women, on the other hand, he had yet to see them wear much of anything at all.
Scandalous.
"You're going to stand out even more than I, for certain." He told her a bit ruefully. "It seems they dress for the weather and don't care about modesty."
He sighed. "Ah well, can't be helped." With that, he gestured toward the entrance.
"No, sir. It's none of our immediate concern." Kathleen said for his benefit in regards to the way the women of this world dressed. She had seen women wearing pants with no other function but to be very provocative in tight fitting denim. It was a little overwhelming, to not only see that but women whom were not Inquisitors freely walking around at night unescorted by a male. It could only mean trouble she thought. Yet again, she realized that this was not their world, but the United States of Chicago. She had heard Rhiannon wrong when she had reported her finding.
As a North American colonist herself she could not help but be a envious of those in this world. Would this mean those living here in the United States of Chicago had broken away from Her Majesty's Empire. "Do you think they are ruled by a Monarch, Sir?"
"I don't think so..." Patrick said, gesturing toward the newspaper displayed in a box outside the store. President gives speech on terrorism was the headline of a paper called the Chicago Tribune, and had a picture of a man behind a podium, a seal displayed on the front.
"If it is a monarchy, it isn't one we know my dear." Patrick wondered what this country might be like if it didn't answer to the English Monarch.
Was Ireland free as well? A Nation once again?
He shook the thought off as irrelevant and pushed on into the store. A bell rang as they walked through, and the shopkeeper stopped what he was doing and stared at them. Patrick gathered from his reaction that they looked very different indeed from average.
"Can I help you?"
Kathleen had stared at the newspaper photo for a moment, and picked up on the significances of it. Truly Amazing , she thought. A few seconds later, she followed O'Rourke's lead and walked with him into this brightly lit store with all sorts of merchandise in colorful packages and provisions with strange descriptions written upon them. What are Doritos? Sunchips? 44 oz Big Gulp for 89 cents? Mega Millions? Bud Light Lime lager? She was a bit overwhelmed inside with all the advertising for such and such products.
When she heard the man with the most usual hairstyle behind the counter asked if he could help, Kathleen spoke up immediately. "What's a Slurpee?"
The fact that the products were different was no surprise to Patrick. In his decades as an Inquisitor he'd been to the furthest corners of the Empire and seen many strange foodstuffs and eaten stranger things than what was on display here in the store. What they saw here reflected the immigrant culture that made up the Colonies even in his own dimension, only with a different flavor.
He allowed Kathleen to chat up the local and instead focused his attention on the contents of the store. Would they be able to get the supplies they needed here or would they have to go elsewhere?
The store clerk, wearing a pair of shorts and a 7-11 t-shirt with the name 'Reggie' displayed on the badge pinned to it, watched the strangely dressed man and woman warily. Their weapons hadn't escaped his attention but they hadn't made any moves to try and rob him.
What's a Slurpee? What planet is she from? "Um, it's just a frozen drink. What's with the costumes? Scifi convention in town or something?"
Kathleen lifted her arms with open hands to show she had no weapon at the ready. The sleeves of her black robe slid partially down her arms exposing her wrist guards. "Oh this," she said referring to her clothing. "We are travelers," she explained. It was not a lie. They had traveled from elsewhere. She looked back toward her companion and saw that he was inspecting the merchandise on the selves, so she felt free to continue her conversation with the gentleman in loose clothing.
Noting his name tag, "Mister Reggie, may I have one Slurpee, please." She asked not as a question but as a order from a menu. The Inquisitor expected Reggie, the 7 and 11 keeper, to serve her one, as a confectioner behind the counter did in her world when she made a request.
"Um, they're right behind you." Reggie relaxed slightly at the lack of obvious weapons at the ready but still regarded the strangers with a wary eye. "Just go ahead and fix yourself one and I'll ring you up when you're done."
Patrick finished his casual inspection of the store, his initial impression confirmed. While it stocked plenty of items for casual convenience, it wouldn't be able to supply them with foodstuffs or medical supplies for any length of time.
He joined Kathleen at the front, having heard this 'Reggie' tell her where to get a 'Slurpee' and decided to try one for himself. "It seems we are to serve ourselves."
She turned her head to look up the senior Inquisitor. "Huh? Interesting." It all but made her more curious.
The blond Inquisitor walked up to the Slurpee machine and tilted her head a bit as she tried to figure out how this apparatus processed an ice drink. There were two handles, one for each flavor labeled, so that was easy enough. The graphic attached illustrated clear enough instructions without words, and the advertisement shown the end result. Now which flavor to choose, Cola or Mango-Strawberry. She knew the latter to be two fruits, so that would be safe, and the color seem more appealing. She pulled out one of the clear plastic cups from its holder, and placed it below the nozzle for the fruity drink, and pulled down on the handle. The Slurpee drink poured into her cup from the machine till it was about to over-fill. Kathleen panicked and looked over to O'Rourke for assistance. "How do you stop it, Sir?!"
The red Slurpee crest over the top of the drinking cup and spilled into the over-fill trap.
Patrick had been watching closely as she filled the cup, thinking he might try one himself, and instantly went into action at her panic. The Irishman moved to flip the handle back up, but instead he knocked over the cup and spilled the contents on the floor.
"Bloody hell!"
"Hey!" Reggie cried indignantly, watching them make a huge mess at the Slurpee stand with increasing dismay. "Get out of here before I call the cops!" They had to be on drugs or something, and he didn't want anything to do with them. He was going to have to clean that up too.
Patrick understood their predicament well enough that he took Kathleen by the arm and gestured for them to leave the store. "Aye, and I think we've overstayed our welcome."
Kathleen should have know to returned the handle back up into the start position but the dazzling flow of a potential delightful beverage distracted her mind. Back in her own world it had been a long time since becoming a Inquisitor and wife of a husband with the means to support a house hold service staff, that she had any need to self-serve from a beverage machine. This opportunity to do so inside the Store of 7 and 11 was liberating.
She ran out with the senior Inquisitor at his urging, and once they had made their getaway a block away from the store, the two of them burst in to laughter over their misadventure at the convenience store. They looked at it as a lesson learnt and they would do better the next time. They were human, so therefore not perfect.