12 September 2017 @ 07:46 pm
 
 
OOM:
Point of no return


Jim trips through the door, biting his fist to hold back a scream. Where has all the noise gone? He can't bear the silence, it's not natural. It's not....

...Dublin. Fuck. No. He wasn't expecting Milliways.

He disappears from the bar to try and keep out of sight. But the walls of the generic hotel room close in at once, no matter how much he paces, no matter how much he hits his head to make it work again. The rooms are silent and empty, and he can't bear that either, so he comes back downstairs.

Bar tries to offer a glass of water as he passes. He doesn't even see it, and just heads to the Window. It's busy out there but he can't hear it, no matter how close he presses to the glass. Knowing it wouldn't make any noise out there either doesn't help. He hits the glass. He'd break it if he could. He'd break everything if he could.


[OOC: Warnings for a mental break?]

 
 
 
04 September 2017 @ 04:28 pm
 
 
Jim is in a ridiculously good mood today. Just...yeah. The sort of mood that makes a person grin at random, and sometimes just laugh out loud (because quite apart from things being brilliant, they are also funny), and just generally exude good humour.

He bounces up to the bar, and says, 'Bar. Darling. Give everyone I like a free drink.'

But this means only three - four? - people will get one. He contemplates for half a beat, then makes an expansive gesture. 

'Screw it. Make that everyone I don't actively despise.'

Hmm. Also a tiny number?

'And everyone I haven't met. But don't tell them who it's from, it'll give entirely the wrong idea. And I'll take some lunch. Early dinner? Whatever. Food. Junk food.

He is presented with pizza. PIZZA. He hasn't had one of them in mooooooonths. This is very very very good day.


[OOC: Everyone is totally welcome to have a free drink! Even if you think Jim hates your pup, just assume Bar is being generous with his tab. He won't mind. And this post is open until whenever! :D]
 
 
28 August 2017 @ 12:57 pm
 
[OOM: You don't tell him. You don't tell John.]

Home, finally. This hospital stay was far too long -- and he can admit he made it longer through his own doing (John will not leave that particular point alone, now that they're both back in 221B) -- and it's a relief to climb his own stairs, lie in his own bed, pull on his own clothes.

And it's even more of a relief to open a door in his flat and find Milliways on the other side.


Sherlock Holmes is still looking a bit wan as he enters the bar, but there's no IV stand trailing behind him and the hospital gowns are put away. Back to normal, if his life can ever be called normal.

And there's a gift waiting for him, that he hasn't been able to pick up. First stop is at the bar -- "I believe there's something for me?" -- and he's presented with a viheula, one of the most exquisite instruments he's ever seen.

There's only one thing to do.

He has to learn to play this beautiful thing.

Sherlock sits on the floor near the fireplace to begin doing just that.


[ooc: NSFW warning in the second thread.]
 
 
28 August 2017 @ 08:33 am
 
"Yes, yes, I'll write the letter to go with it!" William Douglas backs through the door, laughing. "I'll do it myself, I can write, you know...oh." This is Milliways. Not the usual door. But fine, not a problem, Milliways is fine. Fine!

He has a bundle under his arm, which he sets on the bar as he asks for a bottle of wine and the means to write a letter.
 
 
25 August 2017 @ 09:04 pm
 
 
For someone who doesn't like having their stuff messed with, Wilford sure is oblivious to what could happen when he messes with someone else's. His latest prank, needless to say, is not sitting well with Jim, which is why he looks less than pleased today. Also why he takes his phone out of his pocket, and shows a picture on it to Bar.

'I'd like this cake, please. Minus the 'happy birthday'. And you can make the bomb real, if you like....but as you won't, just deliver it to Wilford as is. Thanks.'

There are times for subtlety, and this is not it. That done though, he asks for the time machine specs and starts flicking through things needed to build it. 

'Do you have this stuff to hand?'

Bar's silence says no. But then the Lost and Found box appears on the counter. Jim raises his eyebrows at it, and sticks his hand inside.

An iPhone case with Nicolas Cage as the Mona Lisa.
An eight foot cardboard cut out of Will Ferrell.
A package of 1000 communion wafers.
Ticket stubs for a Hanson concert circa. 2009.

'...is there anything actually useful in here?'

The note says, keep going. So against his better judgement, he does.


[Tiny!tag: Vyvyan, Bernard Black]
 
 
21 August 2017 @ 07:38 pm
 
 
Jim hadn't intended to find the bar today but okay, whatever. It's a break from Dublin's incessant rain. He dumps his bag at a booth, then goes to the bar to retrieve his lute and fife...and then the vihuela, because if Sherlock hasn't been in to take it yet, he might as well have a play on it. The instruments are produced, along with a pile of paper with a note stuck to the top.

Get started on this, would you? - JM

Jim scans the first couple of pages, then raises his eyebrow at Bar.

'Time travel. Really?'

Bar says nothing, so he scowls and starts scribbling a note back. It goes along the lines of, I'm not here to do your donkey work... but his heart's not in it, because, c'mon, how often is he going to get the chance to build a time machine?

He needs some food first, though. A bacon cheeseburger, a Coke, and some Haribo gummi bears. He carries them over to the booth with the instruments, and settles in for the evening. Music and science. Today is looking up.


 
 
18 August 2017 @ 04:10 pm
Sherlock is dressed down today -- for him -- in silver jeans, a snakeskin jacket, a mesh tanktop embroidered with flowers, and several scarves wrapped around his neck.

He sits at one of the tables, cross-legged in a chair, with a guitar, a notebook, and a pot of tea.

He writes more than he plays. He doesn't really need to hear the music yet. It's loud enough in his head.


[ooc: Adult content downthread.]
 
 
16 August 2017 @ 08:21 pm
 
 
Jim looks far more chilled than the last time he was downstairs. Okay, black leather still makes up the majority of his appearance - because it always does - but he looks far less sharp, far less strung out, and perhaps on the verge of relaxed. He's commandeered a sofa by the fire this time, lying over it and strumming an acoustic guitar, quietly singing some old blues tunes. 

 
 
13 August 2017 @ 07:18 pm
 
When Mycroft steps into the bar today, he's absolutely exhausted. He finds himself a quiet table, and before he even drops the stack of papers down onto its surface, flags down a waitrat. Breakfast, coffee, and a cigarette are all needed before he goes any further.

He's not looking forward to what's coming up next, but it has to be done. And of course, it has to be his job to do it.

(ooc: Glam rock AU. Expect slowness from me; I'm feeling rather unwell and may randomly decide it's time for bed.)
 
 
12 August 2017 @ 03:54 pm
 
 
Jim wanders downstairs around midday, a man on a very clear but laid-back mission. He's dressed down from his usual life, but there's no question of ever appearing like a normal person. He's barefoot, in skin-tight leather trousers, and a loose black shirt of which he's only bothered to fasten one button in the centre. There's a lot of smooth white skin on show, leading up to a heavy collar fastened around his neck, leather and studded. His hair is an artful mess, and of course he'd never dream of going out in public without heavy application of black eyeliner.

He heads straight for the piano, carrying his guitar and a practice amp. But first things first; a rat is sent for a bottle of champagne on ice, three cold beers and a bottle of whiskey, and he empties half an ounce of cocaine out onto the top of the piano. This is all necessary for the creative process - and he wastes no time in getting on with it, plugging the guitar in and strumming quiet chords, singing along in a voice that's almost gentle, but with an unmistakeable throaty rasp. Say what you like about his lifestyle, he's very good at what he does.


[OOC: AU week write-up here!]
 
 
11 August 2017 @ 06:56 pm
[Fabulous, glamorous, and covered in glitter.]

The door to the bar opens to the sound reporters jabbering and photo shutters clicking, and in sweeps Sherlock Holmes.

He's made up, dressed up, and wearing platform heels that make his already six-foot figure even taller.

(He looks amazing. He knows it.)

Press conferences are exhausting. Thank goodness he can get away for a bit in an intergalactic bar.
 
 
31 July 2017 @ 12:58 pm
 
Sherlock had two reasons to leave the hospital today. Yes, the nurses scold him and tell him he's not supposed to just leave; but he brings the IV stand with him everywhere, and he's functioned quite well on stronger drugs.

Reason Number One, another meeting with Magnussen (on his terms, thank you very much, he is not going to subject himself to Magnussen's particular brand of intimidation again.) This one at Speedy's, and which provided a very startling piece of intelligence that he is still mulling over.

He knows it's a deal with the devil. John is worth marching into Hell.

Reason Number Two, he got a very ... troubling. Yes, troubling video over the T-minus from Jim, and -- well.

He's here.
 
 
29 July 2017 @ 02:00 pm
 
 
Jim is at the bar again. He looks a bit more dishevelled than normal, and there's evidence of a rather spectacular fading black eye. But he's smiling just a little bit as he addresses Bar.

'I know what'll get you to let me out. But it's hardly fair, is it?'

Bar, it seems, has nothing to say about this. Jim's face twists in a flash of anger, but then he smiles again and asks for a couple of golf clubs. A driver and a putter. Both are provided, along with a large bag of balls.

Jim proceeds to drop one, set himself, and launch a beautiful swing straight at the Observation Window. Oh, he knows the glass won't crack, but it makes him feel better anyway. Then he goes outside, and starts hitting balls down towards the lake.

He'll be back inside later, not eating dinner. In the meantime, watch your heads if you're out on the grounds.


[OOC: catch him at any point, in or out. Open for a few days. :)]

 
 
27 July 2017 @ 05:04 pm
 
 
Not-really-OOM:









[AKA, Jim really doesn't do well stuck in this bar, AKA just another Episode, AKA being in love is The Worst. TW for mentions of sex, blood and suicide.]



 
 
25 July 2017 @ 09:11 am
 
Wilford's had a couple of days to really think about what Jim had to say, while he's been hiding out upstairs. The last time he had to do something like this, it didn't end well, and doing it now just makes everything itchy and restless. But nobody's come banging on his door to haul him away, so at least it's going better than last time.

He has to get out though. He can't stay here forever, and there are things he needs to take care of. If he can figure out how to take care of them, that is. He's not going to do that hiding away in his room, so he waits until morning to take Buster downstairs and try to solve his problem over breakfast. While Buster chows down on his usual breakfast of tuna and raw egg, Wilford has a quiet conversation with the bar. He suspects that maybe this place had something to do with the problem Jim caused, but he gets neither confirmation nor denial, and eventually gives up.

The problem — one of the problems — is that he can't keep Buster here. Too many people are prepared to snatch him up the second it looks like he's been left alone, which is what led to the problem with Jim in the first place.

Eventually, Wilford knows what he has to do. By then, the risk of having his hand bitten off because Buster is too laser-focused on his food to pay attention to where he's putting his teeth has subsided, so Wilford reaches down and untwists the tags from his collar, taking everything but the one with his name and giving them to the bar. That's only half of a solution though, but he has no idea what to do about the second half. So he sits back and waits for an idea to come to him.
 
 
23 July 2017 @ 02:56 pm
 
 
Jim's been out in the forge all night, working on a Thing. He left in the morning, took a walk in the grounds and then went upstairs for a swim. Now he's down by the bar. He's tired. He's distracted. He's...still not getting anywhere with Bar letting him out of here.

'I already promised you I won't kill her.'

A napkin appears, which he reads and crumples in his fist (though he can't exactly argue with what it said).

'You know I could just tell Mycroft, and he'd do it for me? And I haven't. Let me out.'

Another napkin. More quiet rage. Jim sucks a breath in through his nose, and stretches his neck 'til it pops. But he (almost) sounds polite when he appears to give in, and sits down.

'Let me see some kyber crystals then.'

This, Bar will apparently oblige with, though they're as small as Galen said they'd be. And they come with an obligatory sandwich and glass of water, because even when denying him what he wants, Bar will apparently make sure people get fed.


[OOC: catch him anywhere (other than swimming, unless you have access to his room somehow). I may be occasionally sporadic due to work, but here for hours and this is open for a good few days. :)]
 
 
20 July 2017 @ 11:17 am
 
William Douglas isn't always the cheeriest visitor to Milliways, but he's been in an ample good mood today and when he pops in this evening he settles at the bar with a smile.

He orders food and drink "--And a book. Why not." Let's have all kinds of education. Self-improvement. Broadened horizons. What had Joly said? That people argued about characters in plays? "A play. Christ no, I've no idea which, you pick something."

So he's comfortable and expansive at the bar, with some bowls of nibbly things, making not-very-earnest progress on a book. Easy to interrupt.
 
 
20 July 2017 @ 03:02 pm
 Dr. Hannibal Lecter's breakfast today is chocolate themed.

Hand-roasted honeyed oats with cocoa nibs under a chocolate cream, coffee spiced with raw cocoa and cardamom, and finally a few lovely dark pancakes with cranberry preserve.

He is eating slowly, and savouring every bite.


[[OOC: Warning: among the pancakes are veriohukaiset as well as chocolate pancakes, so beware of stealing them!]]
 
 
19 July 2017 @ 08:35 pm
oom  
((William Douglas and young Jim Moriarty go back to 1450 Rome. Mostly talking and exploring, some fade-to-black/not very explicit sex. And a vihuela.))