05 February 2007 @ 10:48 pm
 
The thing is.

The thing is.

The ThInG is, Derry--

Has suddenly decided she's afraid of puppets.

Kids. What can you do?

Well, if you're an Endless, you can cease and desist, and put the bar back to flesh and blood (or pixels, or other materials as they apply).






And maybe giggle a little and plan to try this again later.

If Derry's not afraid.
 
 
05 February 2007 @ 08:46 pm
George Cooper is not a puppet.

He IS many things. He's a former thief, he's a spy, he's a Baron and he's a bartender. Not all at the same time mind you.

And he's here to take your order.

A few additions to the specials board, before he announces:

"Tonight's drinks are Pacific Sunshine , Pain Killer, Panama Deluxe and Peach Fuzz."

Do puppets drink? There's one way to find out.

"What'll it be?"
 
 
05 February 2007 @ 07:36 pm
 
Puppet!Nathan had been drinking root beers, and fighting to urge to sing or give speeches. The best he could do for a while was hum.

But now? There was a happy, peppy music in the background. Think a show like Barney or worse.

There was a singing and dancing puppet on a table.
"Oh, I got something important to say!
You should vote for sharing today!
Oh it's great when everybody joins in!
When you vote for car-ing you win!"

He then did a little routine, and flashed a pair of victory fingers as a flourish. But when he went into the second verse, he tripped on one of the shakers, and fell on his back, one of the soft legs bending backward as he did so. (Of course such anatomy weirdness wouldn't hurt or matter really.)

"...Aww...hel....HECK! Darn it! Fudge! Not again!" And for the hundredth time, Nathan was facepalming with a felt hand as he laid there.
 
 
05 February 2007 @ 07:33 pm
 
Being a puppet has turned out to be rather..interesting..for the WWII paratrooper. Like now, for instance. George is sitting in one of the large chairs by the fire jacked up on apple juice and way to much chocolate for a felted little man's own good. Bounceing in the chair he seems to be humming along to an assortment of songs rangeing all the way from Benny Goodman down to Spike Jones and the Andrews Sisters. An interesting assortment to say the least.

George kicks his little jumpbooted feet that barely manage to hang over the edge of the chair much like the way an antsy child would. "OhhHHhHH Wheeeeere is Triiiiiigger and BiiIIiiiIill!" he starts to sing in his little puppety way. "Theeeee shoOOOOOOO-O-O-OOOoow needs a gooooo and a plLLLLLlloot! And more APPLE JUUUUICE!"

Feel free to bother him if you're brave enough.
 
 
Current Mood: hyper
 
 
05 February 2007 @ 07:07 pm
 
Ryan's getting really good at setting up dominoes. He's been practicing since last night with a single minded intent without stopping to sleep because puppets don't need no stinking sleep.  He actually has an intricate pattern forming at the table where he's working with the tiles. (He has to stand on a chair to be able to reach anything, though.) You should come help him because then you're a friend, and there's nothing better than having lots and lots of friends!
 
 
05 February 2007 @ 06:47 pm
 
Dot would not be in the bar tonight, after yesterday's incidents. But between Bob sulking under the bed and the sheer amount of boredom and lack of anything to do, she is now in the corner of a booth and keeping her back to the wall.

She really wishes this puppet thing would get the frag overwith, and this urge to break into song is really not helping her any.

Come distract her.
 
 
Current Mood: anxious
 
 
05 February 2007 @ 09:54 am
 
At some point, Illyria is just going to stop wandering into Milliways on a whim, because those whims seldom if ever turn out well.

On the other hand, they do often afford some amusement when the victims of all these spells, curses, yuppie-zombifications, malevolent houses and so on are all other people.

Today? Not one of those days, as Illyria discovers the minute she walks in. It is entirely possible that she could change herself back from puppethood if she wished, but it is also entirely possible that she's already tried that in the few minutes that her mun spent writing this, and entirely failed.

Such is the life of a former god-king, who is now a very small and distinctly cute former god-king, sitting somewhat moodily on one of the tables, because she's far too short to see anything from anywhere else, and having gotten up there with an effort entirely unbefitting of her status, she's not especially inclined to get back down.

She's really not pleased.

(And yet? Still better than Candyland.)
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 09:09 pm
 
Mun is sad. The Bears lost the Superbowl. Captain Ryan, however, is extremely happy. Captain Ryan is also still a puppet. The latter is directly responsible for the former.

So, here's the deal. Come talk to the super happy friendly puppet and cheer the mun up. He's currently setting up dominoes at one of the tables, though the fuzzy fingers means he rarely gets farther than ten or so tiles. In return, your pup can mock* Ryan when he returns to normal. Enjoy!


*Mocking may not be conductive to your pup's health.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 09:09 pm
 
Suzi has found a chair, and is curled up in it. She's not exactly staring at the fire, but she's rather not exactly doing much of anything else either. The problem with facing hard truths is that at first its even harder to operate than it was before you looked at the problem that really exists.

In this case, a young woman who has recently come to the conclusion that she hates herself is trying to stop doing so before she ruins the good things in her life. So she's emo. She looks emo. She probably doesn't show up as emo to empaths or Sime senses, but that's only because a decade of training out-habits relatively new emo brooding.

So, honestly, this post is mostly notable for what it does not contain: She has no book. She has no knitting. She has no puppy. She has no tea. She has no Whistler snuggled up against her side. She has no smile.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 08:36 pm
Mal came to Milliways for his shift early.

And found himself to be much shorter than he normally would be.

He also has no clue why his holster is a felt patch sown onto his pants, and why he only has four fingers.

"This is goin' to put some problems onto my tendin' skills, you know!" Mal squeaks up at the ceiling; perhaps the Landlord will take pity on him.

A few moments pass and Mal receives no such assistance. Tiny shoulder slump forward, and he bounces toward the bar.

"HEY EVERYONE!" Mal screams at the top of his...do puppets have lungs?

"There are no specials today, but I'm at your service."

Beat. "I can't reach the chalkboard."
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 07:33 pm
 
Unlike last night, it's the back door that opens to admit the Doctor tonight.

Also unlike last night, when the puppeting hits, it doesn't include a scarf. Leather jacket, yes; scarf, no.

He looks down at his new duds, then reaches up gingerly to feel the large felt ears.

"Not again," he mutters, with quite a bit more of that Northern accent than he's had in a while.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 07:29 pm
 
[OOM: The Morning After.]

There's a blue puppet in the bar, sitting in a booth in the far corner.

Specifically, he's sitting under the table. Bob could probably get up on one of the seats, but he doesn't want to. He'd rather not be seen, just now.

Why? Because of three things that happened last night:

1.) He got into a drunken brawl with Bill Pardy, in which Bob was the aggressor.
2.) Dot found out about the Goth strip show, thanks to Laini.
3.) He and Dot almost had sex, stopping only because their undergarments were sewed on.

He's not sure which of those three things is the most mortifying.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 06:52 pm
 
Ray went to sleep last night, got up early this morning, and started digging through his books over breakfast. Somewhere along the way he got frustrated and stabbed a finger into his Spates Catalog's general vicinity. When the book fell open, it was three pages away from an extensive write-up on EVIL PUPPETS AND SPIRITS ASSOCIATED THEREWITH.

He's been at that same table since lunchtime, and there are three empty cans of Jolt Blue beside him. He's working his way through number four.

This could get entertaining.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 03:38 pm
 
Elan walks back into the bar from outside, with a brief overheard "Just a minute, Haley, I want to say hi to some people."

As Elan walks in, however, he notices the various puppets around. With a creeping expression of concern, he looks to one hand, and sure enough, Banjo the clown, god of puppets, is there.

With a horrified expression, Elan beseeches Banjo. "What did you DO?"
 
 
Current Mood: horrified
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 02:16 pm
 
The way Cliff figures it?
He's doomed.
Or someone put a curse on him, other than the Parental Curse delivered by his mother. * Maybe both.
He'd been Bound for weeks, barely dodging that bullet. It had been the middle of their wedding anniversary dinner. He'd stepped out to get a wine glass and BLAM OMG MILLIWAYS!
True, that there were much worse places to be stuck. He couldn't argue that and didn't want to do so.

However.
Getting UNbound, home to celebrate, and then the next morning in his office

he
finds
THIS???
See Cliff all plush and cute.
See Cliff pound his head against Teh Invisible Door.
"AAAAAUGH!"
Cuteness loves company?

*("when you grow up, I hope you have some children who act exactly the way that you act")
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 01:58 pm
 
Sun's up, moon's down; Harry Wells is no longer fuzzy in any way, save that he needs a shave. He'll tend to that later, though. The hunting was awful last night (probably due to the bunny horde the night before), and he's just had two major flares of the metabolic furnace in the past twelve hours. He broke the ice in the lake and managed to wash enough to be fit company for others, but that's as far as hygiene goes this morning. He's getting the biggest breakfast of carbohydrates (fried and otherwise) he can physically carry to his table, plus a hefty dose of tea with far too much milk and sugar in it by civilised standards.

He won't be bitey if he gets bothered. Grumpy, perhaps, but he did just wake up.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 01:48 pm
 
Belar is not a puppet! But if he were, he would totally look like a big fuzzy polar bear puppet right about now. Just because.

Anyway, not a puppet. Just a big blond guy in the Bar, back to the dark blue and turquoise clothes he got in Canada, with the ANSWERING PRAYERS- BACK IN 15 MINUTES sign up on his table. Although the sign is down to about five minutes by now, because he's been extra busy today and he kinda wants a drink.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 12:11 pm
 
When Klinger had decided to dress up like a clown (very fitting for patrol duties, don't you think?) that night, the last thing he expected was this:

Wandering into Milliways as he was running away from Major Houlihan ("This is going to get a court marshal, Corporal!") and turning into, well...

:O!

"Holy Toledo, my legs are gone!"







He can't wait to go back home and tell Colonel Blake. If this doesn't get him that Section 8, then nothing will.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 07:20 am
 
The transcendent pig-puppet has flopped on the surface of the Bar again. He's admiring the felten population of Milliways, as he sips his cappuccino through a large and curly straw.
 
 
04 February 2007 @ 06:18 am
 
Michael inna bar.

AT the bar, climbing onto a stool.

It'd be easier if, you know, he wasn't ONLY SIX INCHES TALL AND PLUSHIE.

"***** @$* Milliways..."