15 August 2017 @ 07:11 am
A small air plant--spiky, free of any soil, perhaps a bit dry--sits on top of the bar. Now and then as one of the Milliways doors opens with enough force to create a draft, it skids a few inches along the surface.

((Pffft, sorry, sorry, forgive me, I dared myself to do Succulents AU this week, but then Jehan-mun beat me to it. It's all a bunch of nonsense. Bossuet is an air plant, a Tillandsia neglecta, currently homeless. Feel free to interact, but be warned that he's, you know...a plant. Please don't throw him in the fireplace.))
14 July 2017 @ 08:25 am
The French presence in Milliways may have quieted down a bit, as new guests come to the place and old residents settle into their ways. But it's 14 juillet, the Fête nationale, anniversary of the kick-off of one of the greatest Revolutions, and Lesgle isn't letting it pass unmarked.

He's an old hand at this by now, and bustles around behind the bar. Gets out the tricolor flag, the bunting, the cockades. Cheese, fruit, crackers. Sandwiches. Red wine, champagne, and Various Blue Drinks. A welcoming smile for all comers.


reads the chalkboard, and



Ça ira!

((Good heavens, this guy has been doing this for four years? Party thread rules apply--hop around, talk amongst yourselves, have fun! I might throw in some of my other characters as well for partying purposes.))
16 March 2017 @ 10:27 am
[oom: Harry loses his temper, then wakes up not quite feeling like himself.]

Smoking with the flu-- it's a stupid thing to do, and Ashley knows that, but first off, he's still pretty sure this is all a dream, and second, dream or not, the place is unsettling enough that he can do with something routine and calming. So he's standing just out back behind the bar, looking more than a little under the weather (pale and feverish, red nose, every couple drags on the cigarette punctuated by a barking cough), but perfectly alert, aware of everyone who passes by.

For all that he bears Harry Percy's face and frame (and he hasn't quite worked that one out, except as another element of the dream, why should suddenly be so much younger, and be in the kind of shape he was definitely never in, even in his twenties), he doesn't carry himself in anything like a Percy-ish manner. He leans idly against the back wall of the bar, jeans and a leather jacket, a checked shirt and a bland jumper. And the cigarettes. He has an approachable look-- not Harry's resting scowl-- he'll probably share.

[harry currently believes himself to be ashley cowgill from the TV series happy valley. i'll be on slowtimes for today, but around properly tomorrow and through the weekend]
05 January 2017 @ 11:32 pm
You -- yes, you, whoever you are -- got an invitation to the party. All of Milliways is welcome!

If you choose to come, you'll find Bar directing you to a big round tent that went up this afternoon on the lawn outside the bar. Marius and Cosette and various friends spent a lot of time this morning ferrying decorations in, and the waitrats spent a lot of time in the afternoon ferrying food in, but the doors won't officially open until close to sunset.

But this isn't a cheap white plastic tent, oh no. It's warm and domed and made of thick fabric, something like a very large yurt. A bit of magic keeps out the drafts, making everything extra cozy.

There's a fire in the middle of the floor, with a low screen encircling it but also magic meaning that this fire puts of warmth but will not actually burn anything, even if you step right into it. The floor is wood -- great for dancing, if you feel like it! There's a piano over against the wall for anyone who wants to make some music.

Everywhere there are garlands of European evergreen branches and herbs, studded with bright dried fruit and sparkling ornaments. (Mistletoe might very well be among them, though the Pontmercies haven't thought to supply that as an intentional party game.) There are candles and lanterns everywhere, and a big chandelier. There are no electric lights at all -- it's all fire -- but a good number of them are magical, so that nothing's going to get set on fire or covered with smoke. The general intended impression is of genteel, welcoming festivity, in a very French and very early 19th century European way.

There are food and drinks galore. Come in and enjoy the party!

[OOC: Party-style post! Subthreads for various categories and activities, etc. Open from now until whenever!

Edit: As of Joly's arrival, Cosette now has a mini-polaroid camera. Fear, Milliways. Feel free to assume that she's popped up to take a candid picture of your character(s) at any point, as long as they're not doing or wearing anything scandalous! She will happily give the resulting picture to your character if they want; it probably won't be a very good picture, in terms of composition or focus, but it will be cheerfully enthusiastic.]
19 December 2016 @ 07:40 am

It's not a properly proper Happy Hour: even though Lesgle has been practicing in the kitchen since he saw the notes about the Elf Problem, he still needs Bar's help with the cooking. But he's taken over the space behind the bar and has put up specials:

Salade niçoise

I recommend the ratatouille or the pissaladière, as Mme. Bar is responsible for their production; I myself am attempting the salad and the chickpea crêpes. Brace yourselves for disaster!

All meals are gratis, but donations to funds for young patrons, bound residents, or the Milliways Scouts would be welcome. A disclaimer before anyone gets the wrong impression: I am not from Nice nor have I ever set foot there. It keeps moving: one treaty or another has picked up that fine old city and relocated it variously to the Duchy of Savoy, the French Republic, the French Empire (hideous phrase!), the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia, et cetera. Mirabile dictu. But I am given to understand that we have orders from on high: Be Nice. And further I am given to understand that these are Nice dishes to share. And so you have it. Soyons gentils.

While he cooks and serves up plates, he's chatting with a collection of the wretched doll things. How do you do, my you look lovely today, and how is your grand-mother, is your bunion still troubling you, what a handsome hat you have there, it really brings out the color of your eyes.

As they disappear, he rounds up more to take their place. Ugh. Nasty things, spies, but at least these ones are easy to spot and easy to send away.

((Open until whenever! Thread-hopping welcomed and encouraged!))
07 August 2016 @ 11:06 pm
Joly nearly bounces into the Bar, delighted as always to see Milliways again.   Alcmaeon flutters along beside him,  the little finch hopping around the unoccupied tables and chairs. 

Joly greets Madame Bar cheerfully, and puts down enough money to cover a day's meals and drink-- and blinks when a packet appears for him, wrapped neatly in brown paper and lettered horribly with what's unmistakeably his own handwriting.  

Alcmaeon pecks carefully at the package. "I didn't see you do this" he chirps. "I don't trust it." 

"Well, and I don't remember doing it, but there must be some explanation--and I don't think Madame Bar would pass it on if it were dangerous just to look, surely. " He gives Madame Bar a fond pat.  "So we're going to look." 

But not without  a drink, and a table, and maybe a meal. And gossip with any interesting company that comes by.

(Joly and Alcmaeon are from the same Daemon AU verse as last year!  Joly's daemon Alcmaeon is a tit. Yes, they've both heard the jokes. But they will probably still laugh.) 

(OOC: for another hour or so, then shifting to slowtimes, but not gonna miss AU week!)
14 July 2016 @ 08:08 am
The fourteenth of July again--again!--makes it time for Milliways' third annual celebration of the Fête nationale. (Has Lesgle really been here long enough for that? Is this what eternity feels like, periodically scratching your head and reckoning up which anniversary this is? Well, it's been a good long-enough-for-that, and he'll do his best to make it a good anniversary.) So this is probably a familiar sight to bar regulars: the tricolor flag draped behind the bar, the bunting and cockades.

As Lesgle begins setting up drinks--red wine, white wine, and blue things*--Bar surprises him with a large cake: not in the shape of the Bastille this time, but an elegant three-tiered affair reading * LIBERTÉ * ÉGALITÉ * FRATERNITÉ * around the rim of each layer.

"Why Madame Bar! You are, as always, not only a pearl beyond price, but a true patriot."

The Bar gets a kiss, and if you're not careful, you might too!

*Some of the blue drinks are relatively harmless cocktails featuring blue curaçao. Some of the blue drinks are Romulan Ale. Drink at your own risk.

((Unfortunately my internet presence is patchy today, but this is open all day. Threadhopping encouraged! Talk amongst yourselves!))
28 June 2016 @ 04:56 pm
Hux is back in the bar— this time by choice.

He looks tired, as per usual, but there is no surprise evident when he comes through the door: only relief, and something that might be pleasure. He enters quietly, a datapad under one arm, and makes his way to the Bar, setting down his pad on the surface before taking a seat. He's wearing his uniform boots and trousers again, but this time the jacket is missing, and his shirt-sleeves are rolled up as he leans on the counter and looks around.

"Can I get a menu of some sort, please?"

He's here to work, really, rather than to drink or socialize, but some company would do him the world of good whether he admits it or not. While he waits for his menu, he pulls his pad in front of him and starts making his way through the long list of reports demanding his attention.
26 June 2016 @ 05:00 pm
So arresting Henry was weird.

And it has, to his faint irritation, set Hotspur into a rare contemplative mood. Of course, even a year on, having the time and space to be forced to actually think things through is still not a circumstance to which he is accustomed. But when riding, practicing, tramping through the woods, riding again, and then practicing some more do nothing to dispel his nagging thoughts, he ends up sitting at the bar, prodding moodily at a plate of leafy greens that the bar insists are meant to be eaten.

(He is skeptical.)
03 May 2016 @ 09:07 pm
This evening, Jim can be found lying on a sofa with a laptop balanced on his midriff. He's idly watching the screen, as his hands work the controls of a mini drone that's flying around the bar at rafter-height. It's small, about the size of a sparrow, but it's got a few very good cameras on it. 

There's a new T-Minus on the table, lying next to a vodka and a small toolkit, because he's absolutely planning to take it apart a bit later on. He hasn't looked at it yet though, being more interested in who's around the place and how long the battery will last on this thing.

[OOC: open until the weekend!]
There are children everywhere, and have been for at least a couple of days. Lègle does not consider this to be his natural environment. But Joly has been a champion of head-counts and damage control, and other people have been stepping up to provide cake and entertainment and sensible things like that, so--so it's time for him to take his turn and do his duty.

Joly occasionally (frequently) makes noises about nutrition, which seems to include fruits and vegetables. So Lesgle is behind the bar chopping up strawberries and melons, mixing up fresh lemonade, and stirring a quietly simmering bowl of punch. It's not even a little bit alcoholic!

If you look to be under the age of sixteen or so, he's likely to wave you over and ask if you'd like anything. If you look to be over the age of sixteen or so, he'd be very grateful for some adult conversation.

(What else is nutritious? Hmm. When he has a spare moment, he starts pulling out fixings for ham and cheese sandwiches. That's nutritious, right?)

((Open thread, party style, tag in, hop around!))

((...heh, no, really, please do hop around and talk to each other because i can't keep up with so many threads! :D ))
25 March 2016 @ 08:43 pm
((Quests for all! Bossuet and Joly found themselves on a very traditional sort of adventure, and came through it in good spirits. In other news, Arthurian-style legends sure did involve a lot of weird things. And also naked ladies.))
21 March 2016 @ 06:53 pm
Jim is lounging on one of the sofas by the fire, reading a magazine (Empire, because he is apparently interested in movies) and looking the epitome of lazy. Jeans, baseball cap, earbuds in, one leg hanging over the armrest. And beer! Cheap beer even; a few empty bottles of Bud, and a huge bag of barbeque crisps. These last are mostly untouched, which probably means they're stealable for anyone in need of either a snack, and/or chilled conversation.

(If he happens to also be lounging in the perfect position to watch the entire room, and also the back door, it is surely coincidence.)
08 March 2016 @ 06:53 pm
Jim's in a towering good mood tonight. The preliminary stages of the game are always fun, always full of promise. So many things can go wrong if the ordinary people can't manage their roles, or someone decides to try and get clever

But their involvement is a way off yet. Until then he's free to lay it all out in his head, perfect and clean and untouched by idiots. And that's why he's lounging in an armchair by the Window with his feet up on another, baseball cap on his head, a pint of bitter (yuck) and a packet of crisps at his elbow. He has one earbud in so he can listen to Bach while he amuses himself by tossing a tennis ball in a relentless rhythm against the glass. 

[OOC: Open until Friday!

Must crash for the night; will be back in the am <3]
15 February 2016 @ 02:19 am
[Not technically OOM:

Enjolras and Javert run afoul of the handcuffs situation.

Luckily, several of the Amis are there to lend moral support! For some mysterious reason, Javert is less than appreciative.

Millitimed to before Jay's Happy Hour with the key, and preplayed this way because of the number of involved muns out of town or otherwise afk this weekend. :D?]
04 February 2016 @ 05:22 pm
Some things a person expects when coming into Milliways. Waitrats, the Observation window, old faces and new, occasional barfights, time-crossed intra-universal conversations . . .

X, however, is not expecting Bar to hand over multiple stacks of paper, each about the height of an 8-year-old, and a note:

Congratulations on becoming the new acting Head of Security. These papers are now yours to deal with. In a timely manner. Good luck!

X is going to get a new understanding of just why Mel hates paperwork. All paperwork.

29 January 2016 @ 09:34 pm
[a whole passel of OOMs: Valjean is discharged from the infirmary, but there are still questions to be settled with Cosette. Then, Marius and Cosette have a conversation of their own.

Sometime after that (and also sometime after this one), Marius and Enjolras catch up.]

Anyone who witnessed the commotion of Valjean, Cosette, and Javert's return to Milliways may recognize the pale, black-clad young man who accompanied them, now sitting in front of the fire.

Though he has now been in Milliways for several days, Marius Pontmercy has been avoiding the main bar at all costs. However, it still really is quite cold (especially coming from a Parisian April), and the sudden winter makes his shoulder ache, and there's really only so much aimless wandering a person can do, and eventually, one of those comfortable-looking chairs before the fire is all but irresistible.

Marius has received explanations of Milliways from several sources, but he has come across another copy of the welcome pamphlet and is reading it, brow furrowed, with all the care of a scrupulous lawyer perusing a contract.

[ooc: Marius is awkward and antisocial at the best of times, and this is-- not that. So apologies in advance if you don't get very far with him.]
18 January 2016 @ 05:24 pm
((After Valjean's rescue, Joly comes home and talks it over a bit with Bossuet. They decide to invite Marius to breakfast. As usual, making conversation with Marius Pontmercy is an uphill battle.))
13 January 2016 @ 05:17 pm
Mr Segundus has noticed a curious phenomenon.

Despite the fact that he spends the vast majority of his time at Milliways in the library, making use of the remarkable collection of books of magic, every time he returns to England, he cannot quite recall anything that he read.

He tried, therefore, to sneak a book away with him-- but somehow, every time he tried, he would find he had left the book back in the library, or in his room, despite all his efforts to remember to bring it with him.

So he tried making notes. But that, it seems, did not work either, for here he stands, frowning at a little packet of handwritten pages that appeared on the Bar as soon as he entered. So that's where he left them.
12 December 2015 @ 01:20 am
Hotspur wanders into the barroom looking, dare one say it, almost pensive. He ought to be experiencing ecstatic joy at the recent, apparently permanent departure of his enemy, but somehow he's-- not.

But that's nothing a ride can't fix! Passing by the Bar, he pauses and says, "Good Mistress, I have lost those gloves you did give me. --ay, again. If you would once more indulge me--?"

Bar complies.

Which is why Harry is presently not riding, but trying to figure out what you're supposed to do with mittens on a string.