Sirona hasn't been here since...

Oh yes, it had been Mardi Gras, and she had said to put all drinks on her tab, because she'd been celebrating and...

There had been an apocalypse here! And now everything looks almost normal again.

Sirona looks around, walks to the bar, and orders a macha chai latte. As it appears, she notices her tab flashing on the tab board as it goes up.

Notices it very distinctly. Oh. My. God!!

Exclamations like that are not helpful if you're a deity yourself and owe the bar a small fortune.

Sirona sips her drink (which is good!), and sighs.

A Medic walks into the Bar, catches sight of the tab recall sign, thinks for a moment, then walks out again. Shortly thereafter he returns with a large stand-up sign and a sheaf of papers. What does the sign say? We're glad you asked.

Attention Milliways Debtors:

Do You Need Money Quickly?

Do You Like Guns, Explosives, Bludgeoning Weapons, Edged Weapons, or Hitting Things With Wrenches?

Do You Have Eight Hours To Kill?

BUILDERS LEAGUE UNITED Would Like To Talk To YOU!

He settles back with his morning coffee and a copy of the Stuttgarter Zeitung from sometime in 1969 and smiles.

George blinked at the bar tab he was just handed over when he stopped by the bar.

"What? Wwh-what is this? How-how-how am I supposed to pay for this?"

He flopped into a chair, and took his glasses off for a moment to rub his eyes. What was he supposed to do now? Honestly? He was Bound still so any money from his hospital porter job had dried up for now.

"Wait, what?"

That's a twenty-one year old Jacen Solo at the bar, squinting at a piece of flimsi in his hand. He so hasn't been here enough times to have ordered that much caf.

"Has Jaina been putting things on my tab?

"Oh. Wait, this wasn't Anakin, was it? That would be weird.

"Well, how the heck do I even have a tab, then? I've paid with credcoins whenever I've been here."

This time, the response is a single neat word:

Timelines.

Jacen is not amused.


(( still open, tag whenever, shall try to reply in a timely manner. ))

Jack, like a good many patrons of Milliways, is currently scrambling for a way to pay off her sizeable tab. She's tried stealing (Security didn't like that), she's tried finding work (not a lot of the jobs being offered involve beating things to death), and she's tried just plain haggling her way out of her debt (you can imagine how well that worked). None of these turned a profit, and none of them helped her.

Then, very recently, a certain talking dog (Dug) offered his services to Jack in order to make up for...something. He's not sure what, but he knows Jack was angry at him, and now she's not, so it's okay! After a few attempts at training him to fetch wallets, and after a few hours of trying to figure out a way to make rock-guarding profitable, Jack finally hit on an idea that's sure to get her some cash.

"Dog for sale!"

Young woman and dopey dog are both seated at a table, one of them on a chair and the other on the floor. A small sign is sitting on the table, Jack's messy handwriting (more or less) displaying the following message:

Dog For Sale! Unique, once-in-a-lifetime chance to own a talking dog! Very intelligent, loyal companion, makes a great guard-dog! Only one of his kind, get yours while supplies last!

A similar sign has been hung around Dug's neck, though he seems blissfully unaware of Jack's intentions. This may be because he doesn't understand, or just because he's chewing on his octoplushie.

[Tinytag: Jack (Subject Zero), Dug]

[OOC: Two muns, two pups, tag away! We accept cash, check and Visa/Mastercard And both muns are for sleep now, but slowtimes are awesome and new tags are super welcome!]

Bonzo comes down to the Bar to find a check waiting for him.  Only this check is one he owes, not one being paid to him.

The look on his face when he sees the amount due is probably priceless.  For everything else, however, there is not a credit card for him to use.


--------------------------------------------

Dooku has a much more muted reaction when he gets downstairs.  He has private family accounts hidden who-knows-where that give him resources to draw on.  Still, there's a more-than-slightly irritated look on his face at the cost of this place.

--------------------------------------------
(OOC: Fett would be in for this, but he's tied up plot-wise.  Rest assured, he'll get his bill soon enough.)

There is a Barman on duty.

Sort of.

Duty, here, is more defined as Sallie chewing on a pencap while staring at one of the monstrosities that passes for accounting books in the bar at the end of the 'verse.

At one point, she takes a red marker from her pocket, uncaps it with a flourish, and scrawls a large THIS DOESN'T EVEN COMPUTE across the top of the page.

Can someone convert dollars to platinum to Spice for her? Sallie's a little lost.

[ooc: i am going to fall over into bed after i go take a benedryl. if anyone needs me, i'll be around daytime tomorrow or leave me a note!]

Before he could ask for a book, a bill appeared. A long one, detailing back a year's worth of things that could never be forgotten even while a good half of them were only props. Edward dug into his back pocket for a thin black leather fold.

He opened it and carefully laid a silver card on top of it.

"Put all of the tab's for my family and Bella on it, as well."




[OOC: Here until six-thirty, then back around nine. Open until the next one.]

When Mike took his usually place at Bar's side he was greeted by the appearance of two things.

1) a cup of tea
2) a memo addressed to him from Sallie.

The first made his face screw up in a grimace. His stomach flopped in what little room it had left in which to flop. Something about the smell of tea was bothering him today. He closed his eyes in an attempt to keep himself from retching outright. Apparently though? That didn't seem to be working. It wasn't the sight or the smell of tea that made him feel phyically ill today, but the very IDEA of it.

"Okay, MapleBaby. First rule of the day: No tea. I don't even want to think about it."

With that, the tea disappeared from view.
A few cleansing breaths later, and Mike was prepared to face the Memo.

"..."

Or at least he thought he was.
"I can't even read most of this. What is that? Chinese? Could I get a witness here?"

The paper rustles of its own accord as Bar begins to translate the text by means of moving the ink to a more understandable format.

"....woah. I...I didn't know Sallie...but she's such a nice lady. Who taught her these words?! Have you seen this?" he says angling the paper towards Bar for a better view.

"I mean...Okay, so I've been really lax about accounting, but...this right here?" he points to a selection of rather choice words. "That's just uncalled for. And that? That'd make even Raph blush!"

Cautiously Mike folds up the note and shoves it in one of the few leg pockets of his newly expanded cargo shorts that he can still reach.

"Righ. Okay. Um...so Tab Recall then, huh?"

"Right. NO, no that's fair. I mean...you've been on duty long enough. I...I'll take care of this. Dream good dreams, MapleBaby."

As Bar falls to sleep, Mike begins augmenting the SPECIALS board to reflect the activities of the day:

There was a kitsune sitting at the Bar. She was pondering something- the look of concentration on her face was obvious by the little furrowed expression. To her left was a little reddish wood box highly polished, open, with a multitude of little silken bags in various colors held within. It had been..oh..a year since she had done this and she had met quite a few interesting people since then. Of course the usual suspects were on the list.

"All right," she said after a moment, blue eyes glancing toward the paper in front of her that had various Japanese symbols in a..somewhat.. order on it. "I think I got it all done." Reaching into the box she placed each upon the countertop as she spoke various names. "These go to Will and Kate, these to Jay and Jenny. Ryu-san, Teja-san and please make sure he knows that half of this is for the forge, Doc-san, Tyler-san, Charlie, Major Lorne, Gordon- the gentleman in the glasses, James Potter, and Mal-san." Looking the list over one more time she beams a bright smile and nods. "If I have missed any of the usual please do let me know?" She couldn't help but giggle as a large smiley face appeared on the same piece of paper.

Tabs were paid for the remainder of the year and then some. It was a good comfy little base they had for, well, whatever they wanted to use it for. No notes on who had done it would be left either- sometimes it was nice receiving a gift from someone.

[tiny tags: Major Evan Lorne, Gordon Freeman, Charlie Monroe, Jenny]

Barbara gordon has averaged only a few hours of sleep a night for the past week, but the grin on her face as her fingers stop moving across her keyboard in trimphant stillness suggests that it's been worth it. She hits one last key before rolling over to the front door and opening it. She simply sits there, looking through the doorway into her apartment, for a couple of minutes, then she closes the door and rolls back over to her table to check her screens.

"Yes!" she hisses with a grin. She taps another few keys and her display reconfigures itself into a sign floating above her table.


Need help paying your Bar tab?
Have a stable door between your world and Milliways?
If you answered yes to both, come see me.

And with that done Barbara leans back in her chair and closes her eyes with a satisfied smile. She's not planning to sleep. Just rest...

Yeah, right.

Bob and Dot had a talk earlier that boiled down to Dot saying "yes I'll pay off your tab, no it's not an imposition, stop pestering me about it."

So that's taken care of. Now Bob has other things to think about. Like the fact that it's been more than a week since he talked to Ray and he has no idea whether the man's condition has improved or not.

Guardian inna bar, nursing an energy shake and looking around for a certain Ghostbuster. He wouldn't be averse to other company, though.

Sariel?

Has had a case of the disappearing door again.

That is to say, the door's started jumping about on her world's side of things, and she's been correspondingly scarce of late. So much for the entrance stabilizing in her closet...

But now it's apparently decided to turn up for her; there's a glimpse of grey hallway wall over her shoulder for the second she's framed in the doorway. then she's through, and the sliding panel's hissing closed behind her. "... Oh." Beat. "In the corridor?" She doesn't sound displeased, at least.

She's almost to Bar before she notices that tab collection sign. "Oh, lovely..." She's fishing a credit chip out of a uniform pocket all the same, depositing it on Bar's surface and leaning to murmur something quietly to the wood. "Could this be for mine, and Dale Harding's as well?"

The chip vanishes, then reappears, and though the number of credits to Sariel's name has dipped, at least her tab and a friend's have zeroed out. "Thank you, Bar."

She ends up seated on the nearest barstool. There's miso soup in front of her, which she's slowly eating in between scanning the room carefully for friends. Her expression is equal parts generally serious and concerned; guess who doesn't know the nightmares have stopped?

((Not!tag: Tanya Adams))

So there is a kitsune sitting at the bar with five silk bags sitting on the bartop. Each is filled the same way but the silk and patterns are different. Pondering something she beams a little smile before pointing to the first one. "That shall be for Ama, the next for Seimei, then Teja, and Doc. I do believe, Lady Bar, that it will be enough to cover all their tabs for the next couple of years and should they come close to being low do let me know."

Each bag vanishes one at a time only for the last to be replaced with a good vanilla milkshake. "Oh and Bar? Please do not let them know and play a trick on my brother for me involving his tab?"

Sometimes it was good to be a kami.

Totally botherable.

When Doc comes downstairs sometime in the evening, he has a pouch in hand and approaches the Bar with the intent of paying off his tab, or at least, trying to pay off his tab. He isn't the best off back home, but with the work here in the stables, it helps somewhat.

Except when he puts the money on the Bar, nothing happens.

"Bar, I...I haven't eaten anything since I checked how much I owed..."

Then he glances at the board.

And stares. Because it seems that somehow his tab has been paid. When he asks who did it, Bar won't tell him. So Doc eyes the pouch, then the Bar, and then thinks for a moment.

"Alright then. I want you to put someone on my tab, her name's Mary. Mary Jensen. I'll pay for it myself, whatever she wants or needs."

Consider it done.

"Thanks Bar." Another glance at the pouch, then he smiles. "And use this to buy a drink for Will, Merlin, Jack, Bill, Nathan..." He digs into his pocket and drops a few more coins onto the surface. "...and Billy, the next time they're in?"

Will do.

With that done, Doc smiles to himself, orders a chocolate milkshake, and settles on a stool to drink it. He's feeling a lot better, the ache in his shoulder is nearly gone, and his hair is...well, still a bit shaggy, but he trimmed it a bit himself, so he looks better.

Puss comes in unaware of of the call for tabs. When he walks up to Bar and sees the sign he gives an easy smile and wave, "No problemo!"

Hopping up onto the counter he pulls off his boot and dumps out a little pouch that jingles with coins. It sits on the counter and disappears, reappearing empty and with a reciept. A reciept saying he still has more to pay.

"Eh...small problem." Frowning he puts the boot back on, strokes his whiskers as he ponders a moment and this his face alights with an idea. "Señora, I shall have the rest for you soon. I promise. May I have a sign of my own and a pen?"

The items appear and he takes them and settles into a booth in the corner, appropriately shadowed for business purposes. He writes on the sign and sets it up, waiting. It reads:

Canciónes Por Su Amor
(songs for the one you love)
Give your love the gift of serenade as performed
by one of great skill, style, and panache
Puss in Boots

Come, messages of love should not wait.

Come inquire about his services.

[OOC: For more info see this post
Note: this post is open through Monday for any interested pups]

Here Bar, have a Scarlet. She is sitting at a table, one out in the open to be very visible. On it with her, the businesswoman has a suitcase, a stack of papers, and a very noticeable sign:

LOANS

- Need money to pay your tab?

- Out of conventional options?

- Able to think out of the box?

- Have any kind of special skills to offer?

- Have any kind of regular skills to offer?

- Desperate and out of options?

If any of the above seems to match you or your situation, there is a solution! Inquiries are free, money is easy.

...

Dare you?

Kitteh and Pip have been out of Milliways for a couple of weeks. (There was an incident with a container ship and a desert island. Don't ask.) They finally got back to the Bar today, only to find that--horror of horrors--their tabs are being called in.

Clearly, this calls for immediate and decisive action.

There are now two card tables set up on either side of the room. On one table, Pip has a pitcher, a stack of paper cups, and a sign saying "INVISIBLE LMAONADE - 5 CENTS." On the other table are three playing cards which Kitteh is continuously shuffling; his sign says "FIND TEH LADY."

Take your pick.

[tinytag: Emperor Norton]

Poor Neric. He's got very few marketable skills--he'd been more of a showman than an actual healer, and what good is an ex-diplomat?--and he hadn't paid his tab the last time he'd been here.

(In his defense, it was only recently that he had become aware of the concept of money, and it's still a bit alien to him.)

But he doesn't want to depend on Ravin for everything, so he has tried to come up with a solution, and the best he has is to sell what he brought with him from his world. (He'd planned on it eventually anyway; it's just a bit sooner than he had anticipated.)

So there he is at a table near the bar, with some of the finest silk in the universe--some for clothing, with varying amounts of beautiful embroidery, and a couple smaller decorative tapestries that he had taken from his room at the youth hall.

Feel free to make an offer.

There is a happy Ghostbuster in the bar today. His door appeared shortly after his morning run, and Winston was able to duck back into his own world long enough to collect funds for his tab, though said door did not appear instead of the kitchen this time.

No, it ambushed him coming in from the garage three hours later, on returning from a dead pet haunting in Brooklyn. This does explain why he's still wearing his jumpsuit, and why there is a proton pack on his table.

He's reading a newspaper and enjoying a cup of coffee. Tab paid.

Botherable.



[tiny tag: Winston Zeddemore]
[ooc: Mun will be around off and on all day, please expect slows.]