23 September 2017 @ 05:49 pm
 
Warnings for death and a description of a dead body. )

He leaves notes on the notice board and at Bar insisting that Security come find him, and curls up in a corner booth with a bottle of whiskey and plans to get very, very drunk.

[OOC: This post is open to all, but Autor won't be very good company.]
 
 
17 July 2017 @ 01:40 am
 
 
After this, there's a note for Security - both at the bar, and in the office.


There's a thing running loose upstairs somewhere. It's quick as anything, and basically looks like a bowling ball with one eye in the middle of it, and something sprouting out the top. It came in with Warfstache, and got loose. He doesn't know what it is or what it does, but he was trying to kill it so it probably isn't great to have running wild.

Gene Hunt 



That done, he returns to his pint. Damnit, it has gone warm.



[OOC: Wilford can be visited here. The one-eyed monster is free to be run into by anyone, at any time, in any place. It's very fast, and no one knows what it is or what it can do. Enjoy! :D]

Tiny!tag: Bernard Black.]


 
 
15 July 2017 @ 03:34 pm
 
When Wilford comes into the bar today, holding onto an old printer paper box, he pauses like this isn't where he meant to be. After a moment, he decides that maybe this is the best place to be, and heads straight for the bar, putting the box on top of it.

He tries talking to the bar, asking her if she can get him something from a database, though she seems unwilling to help no matter how nicely (or rudely) he asks.

Every now and then, the lid on the box tries to pop up a bit, causing Wilford to have to slam it back down in a hurry.
 
 
11 March 2017 @ 07:21 pm
 
The skinny young man who stumbles inelegantly into the bar is barely old enough to drink. In tight jeans and a shirt with a band logo visible under a cheap supermarket “work shirt,” he’s too busy reading a file he’d just stolen to immediately notice where he is.

Whether his mohawk is supposed to distract from his pink moustache, or the other way around is anyone’s guess. But by the looks of him, half of his monthly income must go into various hair products.

It’s only when Wilford runs into a table that he realises he is not in the newsroom right now. He hadn’t actually thought this daft plan would work until just this moment, and now he has only a few quick seconds to decide what he’s going to do about it. He stands in one place, stolen papers in hand, and looks around the bar looking ever so slightly gobsmacked about the whole ordeal.


[ooc: Wilford is in his very-early 20s here. He appears to be from an earlier point in time, but from his point of view, it’s all linear. Whether or not he chooses to divulge this information will depend on how much he likes you.

All threads timed to before YT's.]
 
 
13 January 2017 @ 09:52 pm
 
The parcel Fry gives to Bar includes a tape recording of his conversation with Wilford (although it says 'ABBA GOLD' on it) and a written report.

'For Gene Hunt
TOP SECRET
Report )

He will be back later to check for replies.
 
 
13 December 2016 @ 04:11 pm
This is not the end.

The door creaks open to the sounds of voices shouting in German.

People screaming and crying.

Violence and confusion.

A body drags itself in through the doorway and crumples into a rapidly growing pool of blood on the floor.

The door closes and disappears.

And Emcee is dying.


[OOC: Plot-locked to Sunshine, Jay, Eric, and Guppy. Warning for gory traumatic injury in the first thread. Reactions are welcome!]
 
 
04 December 2016 @ 01:19 am
 
 

[Security post: Wilford acts like a twat, and Gene doesn't like twats.


Visiting post
here, with brief note for Security added re: elf dolls.]

 
 
02 December 2016 @ 06:27 pm
 
[elfwarning]

Wilford is not an exterminator. He's not a ghostbuster, or an exorcist, or a medium. The point is, he is not the guy you call to deal with your problem. He's the guy who shows up to expose your problem to the world.

But he does have a sniper rifle. It's meant to be able to shoot through an armoured car, so these stupid little elves should be no match for it. Especially since he's outside, up a tree where the little bastards shouldn't be able to get to him while he picks off any that show up outside.


Something isn't quite right about this situation, but he hasn't figured out what it is yet.
 
 
24 March 2016 @ 03:38 pm
 
Later in the day, after her conversation with X, Alana leaves a note for Gene Hunt.

Dear Mr. Hunt )

She seats herself on a bar stool and waits, crossing and uncrossing her legs and trying in vain to solve a crossword puzzle.
 
 
24 December 2015 @ 10:07 pm
 
It's difficult for Guppy* to keep track of exactly who is around when you've known an awful lot of people here over ten years. So he's adopting the policy he has in recent years, and close friends** will find themselves presented with either a book token for a standard paperback, or a sparkly cupcake, whichever they prefer.

Fry, whose social life is marginally more straightforward, has made unisex beaded bracelets for Rae, Autor, Noriko, Enzo, X, Jay and Gene. Each is with a note reading 'Merry Christmas from Fry', except Gene's, which has after that 'this isn't for girls'. Coral has made something similar for Gyda, but it's pink.

The three linger a couple of minutes before they head back, if anyone wants to catch them.

[*ooc: his mun had to stop doing individual virtual presents once the time taken to work out who was around and what they should get took longer than her actual real life Christmas list.
**If your pup thinks they should be getting a present, they did :)]
 
 
26 September 2015 @ 03:03 pm
 
 
Good luck getting to the bar near the TV today. Denied his usual Saturday afternoon football due to having to work (on a Saturday), Gene was happy to find the door to the pub opening on to Milliways instead. All right, this poncey twenty-first century football isn't quite the same as the studs-up scrum of the '70s, but it'll do in a pinch. Particularly as City are getting ready to trounce some soft Southern shites. Gene hates Spurs.

So. Beer, chasers, pork scratchings, crisps, an already overflowing ashtray, the remains of a meat pie with brown sauce...they're all there, if you can see through the fug of smoke, or hear over his bellowing at the set.

'Bloody....get in there, you twat! Man on! No, you....what do you think you're doin'!?

....GET IN MY SON!!'

1-0 City.



[OOC: Here for the next twelve hours or so, with the odd slowtime for dinner, etc. Open until whenever!

Aaaaaannd, I'm not getting any notifs. Sorry guys, tagging up now!
]
 
 
07 April 2015 @ 10:27 pm
 
[oom: Field trip part 4 - The trio tie up loose ends in France. Lucy finally opens up about her problems. TW: war death, mental health.]

There are some advantages of having an interdimentional bar as your local. The current advantage is that, before her flight, Bonnie managed to lug in a crate of posh French wine and a selection of cheeses to avoid playing customs charges.

When she returns after her flight, and retrieves them, she leaves some wine for Rae and Pearse, and one for Gene for stopping her head get smacked in during the flu, and some cheese for Autor because he's a ridiculous lightweight.

She opens a bottle for herself, and starts working on a poster for the Assassins Game

'Attention Scouts (and anyone else who wants to play a game)

Would you like to meet some new people?
Would you like to win a week's supply of free cake?
Fancy a game?

Through the month of May we will be playing a game of Assassins, which is a (non-harmful) wide game in which you sneak up on one another and put stickers on them without them realising. The person who catches the most opponents in the month wins.

Sign up here!'


She pins it on the board, then sits back to enjoy her wine.
 
 
28 March 2015 @ 12:56 am
 
 
Gene stalks up into the main bar after this, and sticks a note up on the board.

Bonnie Murdock and Pearse Harman are in the cells, thinking they're other people. They're behind glass, so not contagious. Could probably do with a bit of cheering up - or she could anyway, best stay away from him.

That done, he goes back to his pint at the bar. He might stick around for a few days. This flu usually ends up with a few scuffles here and there.



[Gene not available for tagging, as I'm still technically on hiatus. Back next week! Cells post for Bonnie and Pearse, though.]
 
 
18 January 2015 @ 03:43 pm
 

Down in the office after this, there's a 


note for Security. )


If anyone wants to see him, they can.

Gene's not letting him out because he makes him feel weird, but he's not about to mention that. True to his word though, he heads out of the front door as soon as he's written the note. There's some real scumbags out there to catch, and he's had a long enough holiday around this place.


 
 
17 January 2015 @ 01:43 pm
It has been snowing all day, the minor drafts under the doors letting in faint tendrils of cold. It's enough to keep even the most enthusiastic person indoors. Or the most enthusiastic, warmth-loving person, at least. Brr.

In her meandering search for something to do this afternoon, Rae had found Dr. Lecter in the kitchens. Sitting up on one of the high kitchen stools and swinging her feet, the ten-year-old had told him all about making sleds with the others, and had shown off her sled-making badge (sewn on slightly crooked, but thoroughly attached) with pride. She was sure there were badges to be gotten for cooking, too. Trying new and unusual foods, and cooking dishes from other worlds, probably. But to get credit for the badge, there had to be proof that it'd been done.

So an idea was suggested. And heartily agreed to.

~*~*~*~

Some time later, Dr. Hannibal Lecter and the ten-year-old Rae Seddon emerge from the kitchen with a tray of small, dark-chocolate cakes, a bowl of strawberries and a bowl of whipped cream, and set their things at a centrally-located bar room table.


(ooc: The chocolate lava cakes are for everybody who'd like one; please say in your tag if you want it from Rae or from Hannibal, or both! Otherwise, you might get either. :D)

(Warnings for minor scariness and a scared minor.)
 
 
Current Mood: cheerful
 
 
24 December 2014 @ 09:12 pm
 
 
There's a note for Security in the office, and now one in the bar for patrons who know Jack.


Jack Skellington is in the cells for leaving the boxes of virus around that got some of you sick. And it was his cock-up that meant Santa got kidnapped from here. He's feeling a bit sorry for himself, so someone go and cheer him up, yeah?

Hunt



Duty done, Gene considers himself off the clock for Christmas. He gets a pint - and then a bottle of whiskey to chase the beer down and murder it - and disappears up to his room. Job's a good 'un.



[OOC: Char will be around tomorrow evening to pick up visitors. Reactions only to this, please! Gene will be around next week if there are questions/follow-ups needed. Merry Christmas, M'ways! <3]
 
 
24 December 2014 @ 11:10 pm
 
[At the end of the battle, Jack sets things right with Gene, and accepts his fate.]



At some time around midnight, a much relieved and restored Father Christmas pops in, down the chimney.

Tass, Death, Duster, Invincible, Sariel, Sonya, Matilda, Rikki, Daniel )

And then the man in red disappears off in a hurry, to put Christmas right.
 
 
24 December 2014 @ 10:19 pm
Deep in the forest, the search party have got a lead.

A ghostly wail runs through the back garden, calling people to help fight the creature.

[ooc: Battle thread still in progress, open until New Year or when everyone is ready. If anyone wants in last minute, just touch base with me or Maru :)]
 
 
24 December 2014 @ 09:52 pm
Shortly after this, Jack and Gene come into the bar. Gene raises his voice to a bellow.

"IF ANY OF YOU LOT WANT SANTA BACK, GET YOUR ARSES OUT HERE AND HELP LOOK!"

Then they disappear outside.

[ooc: Again prethreaded, but reactions welcome.]
 
 
24 December 2014 @ 08:46 pm
 
In the back garden there is the sound of sleigh bells... though they seem to be ringing a little flat.

There is a mighty BANG, and the next moment a burning sleigh with skeleton reindeer crashes down into the garden, scattering presents around, and throwing a skeleton figure in a singed red Santa costume out onto the ground. The reindeer shatter into pieces.


For a moment, the figure looks dazed, unconscious even. A ghostly dog returns Jack's jawbone to him, and then Jack slowly gets to his feet.



"What have I done?
What have I done?
How could I be so blind?
All is lost, where was I?
Spoiled all, spoiled all
Everything's gone all wrong

What have I done?
What have I done?
Find a deep cave to hide in
In a million years they'll find me
Only dust and a plaque
That reads, 'Here Lies Poor Old Jack"

But I never intended all this madness, never
And nobody really understood, well how could they?
That all I ever wanted was to bring them something great
Why does nothing ever turn out like it should?

Well, what the heck, I went to do my best
And, by god, I really tasted something swell
And for a moment, why, I even touched the sky
And at least I left some stories they can tell, I did!

And for the first time since I can't remember when
I felt just like my old bony self again
And I, Jack, the Pumpkin King
That's right! I am the Pumpkin King!

And I just can't wait until next Halloween
'Cause I've got some new ideas that will really make them scream
And, by God, I'm really gonna give it all my might
Uh oh, I hope there's still time to set things right..."




Gene is leaning against a tree, smoking. He watches without making a sound, and even at the end, says nothing for a good long moment.


[ooc: Reaction tags welcome, but Jack will be going straight off with Gene. The thread with Gene continues at the link above.

There are a number of half broken spooky toys hopping around, feel free to encounter them!

Lyrics taken from The Nightmare Before Christmas.]
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