I posted this interest check a couple of years ago and didn't get much of a response. I still like the idea and figure it's worth at least one more shot. Anyway, without further ado:
Back in the old days, when Humanity had only just left the ole Cradle of Civilization, space was pretty much a strictly military-scientific realm. Your average John Q. Astronaut or Yuri Alexeivich Cosmonaut had a pretty hard time unwinding out in the void. Them days are past- and I mean long past. You got bars, casinos, whole resorts orbiting this or that little star, millions upon millions of miles from Earth. But that's mostly in the centers of commerce and industry, and along the major trade routes, where humans rub shoulders with all kinds of funky-looking aliens. Some of 'em friendly, and some of 'em a bit touchy when you bring up probes and cattle mutilations. But we're a long way from center, friend. A good long way, as it happens. Out here, long-haul freighter captains and hard-drinkin' miners are your most common sort, and never mind the pirates.
But I thank ya for choosing the Asimov Lounge on good ol' Tsiolkovsky Station anyway. It's the best saloon this side of Alpha Centauri, if I might say so myself. Might not look like much- but we serve as a much needed oasis for folks that find themselves out this way, humans and otherwise. Little known fact- the Grays just love Mojitos. Did'ya know that? It's true. Just about anything with rum in it, really. I'm dead serious, they'll drink down Admiral Nelson like it's Pinot Noir, and then talk about its wonderful bouquet- whatever the Hell that even means when you're talking about hard liquor.
But I'm ramblin'. If you're a miner, a small time courier, or a "gentleman of the spacelanes," this is the place for you, friend. And if you're after gainful employment, I hear the station is hiring on new hands in most sections. Did y'hear? Dreadful accident last week in the airlock, wiped out a lot of good people. We held a little party in here, actually, in memory of the honored dead, and all that. If yer not really qualified for government work, I could actually use a few more employees, since Jack and Linda called it quits and moved back to Mars. Weren't cut out for life out here, I guess. Some of the other shopkeepers on Main Street- that's what we like to call the Promenade, Main Street- are looking for folks. Hell, there's even a couple of open storefronts, if you got a bit of capital stored up.
Anyhow, I'm Dan O'Brien, I own this fine establishment. Now, are you gonna let me gab all day, or are you gonna order a drink?So, if my rambling intro didn't give you the general idea (or if you're the tl;dr type), this RP is supposed to center on the bar (Asimov's) on a space station (Tsiolkovsky) in an out of the way part Human space. If you're clever, or if you bothered to read the title of this thread, you will have noticed I'm going for kind of a Cheers in space kind of thing. Since we're focusing on the bar, and, presumably, the regulars in said establishment, it would make sense if your character lived and worked aboard the station. Aside from that, I'm pretty much open when it comes to characters. Merchants, hard-ass cops, pirates, barflies, cocktail waitresses, scientists, musicians, itinerant vagrants, whatever. Want to play an alien? Please do! I'd love to see some weird, exotic aliens get into the mix on this.
Anyway, if this strikes your fancy, leave a comment to that effect, and maybe we can get this off the ground.
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