19 July 2017 @ 09:21 am
 
There is a little girl and a large head of lettuce at the bar.

The girl has a glass of orange juice, a poloroid-type photograph of her, the head of lettuce and her blue ribbon from the Milliways summer fair, and a pen and paper, and she is trying to word a letter of some sort.

The lettuce is just sitting there.
 
 
02 July 2017 @ 09:32 pm
Outside on the grass, from the Scout Hut towards the beach, there is bunting and fairy lights and a large banner.

MILLIWAYS THIRD COUNTY FAIR

The fair is here for the whole week, and there's something for everyone, so come along and join us!



[ooc: OPEN TO ALL!
Threadhopping encouraged!

For further details, this post, and this post.

Horticultural show entries are now CLOSED.
Sports threads are now CLOSED.
Stalls/other are OPEN]
 
 
30 June 2017 @ 04:33 pm
She had almost missed it, she knows, but there wasn't any way she could've made her choice any earlier. Not with how she'd been feeling when she arrived.

But with a day or so of time to recover, when the grief isn't so fresh, young Rae Seddon made sure to make her choice for Cubefall.

---

So there is a small bird the color of the early dawn sky that can be found perched and singing in the apple tree next to the greenhouse door this afternoon, or perhaps enjoying the sensation of flight as she flits effortlessly through the air.
 
 
29 June 2017 @ 08:27 am
A rather downcast and troubled little girl comes into the bar today, closing the door quietly behind her. She hadn't been looking for Milliways - she had been entering her bedroom with the intent of flopping down on her bed and resolutely not crying for a while.

She recognizes the changes to the bar room which signals the advent of Cubefall, and the knowledge lifts her spirits somewhat, but she doesn't know if she is up to enjoy whatever potential changes offered to her.

The vid-screen that pops up when she scoots up onto a bar stool offers an array of choices: a pretty little mermaid who might explore the depths of the lake without worry, a boy her own age, an almost graceful-looking robotic antelope-type creature, and a small bird the color of the early dawn sky. They're all tempting - all a way to push everything away for a while and not worry, not be scared. But she doesn't know if she could enjoy a Cubefall change just yet, with the day's happenings still fresh in her mind. She carries with her the sounds of kids crying, the image of her teachers' strained faces as they tried to be strong for their students, to offer strength and guidance to children navigating the treacherous sea of fear and grief for the sudden loss of a classmate, not allowed to react for themselves where their students could see.

When she had tried to tell her mother why she was so upset on the way home from school, her mother's reassurance that they were safe did not help. That wasn't the point. Not really. Her mother did not understand.

"Thank you, Bar. I'll... choose in a little while. Not... not now, I think," she murmurs, folding her arms on the counter top and resting her head on them. She'll choose sometime when she feels like she could actually enjoy the temporary change.
 
 
19 June 2017 @ 08:51 am
 
Young Rae Seddon is staying indoors today, as a morning rain shower has relieved her of the need to water her plants in the garden. The lettuces are forming heads and growing surprisingly well, she is daily happy to see, and the spinach will likely be fully grown soon. The carrots and radishes are beginning to fill out, too, though they are quite small still. Their leaves were left rather ragged by the bugs Rae found munching on them the other day.

(The garden pests book Rae consulted said the big ones she'd found were celery worms, but then it had to mention that they were the larva form of a rather large and pretty butterfly, so Rae had spent the day moving them to some of the taller plants growing by the forest edge. The pest book said most other pest problems - ants, aphids, caterpillars, wire worms, potato beetles, moles, mice, and mites - could be avoided by mixing up a spray involving garlic and mint and cayenne and dish soap and water. She has the spray-bottle in the kitchen's under-sink cabinet for re-application when the rain stops.)

So this morning, the ten-year-old girl is sitting on the couch near the fireplace, drawing in faint pencil-lines on a piece of white fabric, an embroidery hoop and a case of embroidery floss and needles by her side for when she finally decides what she wants to make. Currently, she is sketching an approximation of an open book upon the cloth. It is nestled in the corner of the cloth next to a rough drawing of a cat.
 
 
01 June 2017 @ 05:17 pm
 
The weather in Milliways is finally coming a little bit closer to Djehuty's tastes. Not that he needs to feel the cold, or the wind, or the snow, or the raw semi-Scottish damp, if he doesn't want to. But it's nice now to feel a bit of sun.

In fact, he's liking it so much that he's even contemplating starting a little Milliways-style garden by his mansion in the Duat. So there's an ibis-headed man striding serenely amongst the various plantings, taking notes.


((Oof, it's bedtime for me, but I'll be back!))
 
 
01 June 2017 @ 08:51 am
 
The morning dew hasn't fully evaporated yet when ten year old Rae Seddon heads out to the garden, carrying a full and slightly too-heavy watering can. It's heavy enough that she has to use both hands, and then has to make a second trip back to the bar for her garden gloves (bright green), a dirty, three-pronged claw-like cultivator tool for helping loosen soil, and a plastic cushion (purple) for kneeling on so she doesn't get too much dirt on her faded and torn jeans (mostly blue).

The girl sets down the purple, plastic cushion on the soil in between the rows, and kneels on it, working to loosen the roots of grass and other weeds trying to infringe upon the garden plants. (She settles the uprooted weeds into bare spaces on the lawn so they can do some good there - plants are only weeds where they are unwanted, after all.) She talks to the garden plants as she works, encouraging them to grow. Her radishes and carrots are leafing out, and she thinks the lettuces are already taller, but she isn't quite sure.
 
 
Current Mood: determined
 
 
23 May 2017 @ 09:55 am
A little over a week ago, ten-year-old Rae Seddon had claimed one of the unused rows in the garden for her own use, planting a number of different seedlings (after consulting with a handwritten list of how far apart they needed to be) there. The row is now home to seedlings of three kinds of lettuces, radishes, spinach and tiny carrots.

If you should be outside on this bright and sunny day, you may see her, a small, thin figure in a faded pink t-shirt and torn blue jeans, giving encouragement to the plants as she pulls up weeds trying to grow around them and carefully waters each of the seedlings in turn. Once they are all free of weeds and are well-watered, she moves on to the other plants in the garden that look like they could use some care.

She hums to herself as she works.
 
 
Current Mood: cheerful
 
 
17 May 2017 @ 11:10 am
 
A ten-year-old Rae Seddon is sitting at one of the tall bar-stools, this afternoon, swinging her legs as she peruses a giant seed catalog set before her on the counter. Springtime has come to Milliways again, even if it's still late winter at home, and that means that summer's coming, and with it the fair! She has had lots of fun growing vegetables and technically-fruit for the fair gardening competitions in the past, and wants to grow something this year, too.

But what to grow? It's hard to choose!

Rae has narrowed her choices down to 'something she hasn't grown before,' but that still leaves a lot of options.

"Hmmmmmm," she says, eloquently giving voice to the conundrum as she turns a page.
 
 
13 May 2017 @ 09:31 pm
 
Auxin comes in from the back garden, having completed his run for the morning. He heads for a quick shower (the showers here beat anything he can get at home) and then leaves two notes at the bar.

Autor, Lady Rae )

With that, he gets a bacon sandwich and a pint of Winkles Old Peculiar, which he takes over to the fireplace while his hair dries.
 
 
13 May 2017 @ 10:32 am
 
The stuff Jay had given her had worked - Rae couldn't remember the last time she had gotten a full ten hours of restful sleep not interrupted by nightmares or delayed by insomnia. It's amazing how different the world feels without the faint ache of tiredness in her head and shoulders and eyes, without the sound of an alarm clock shrieking to wake the dead.

But, having gone through the step of making sure she is well rested before she leaves, Rae has set herself on the path that means she must go through with it. She must leave. There is no backing down now. Rae expects that if she chickened out today and then later went back to Jay asking for another night of dreamless sleep to prepare herself, he would throw her out the door himself.

And she wouldn't blame him.

So she must go through with it.

So this morning, Sunshine comes down the stairs to the bar room wearing a three-quarter-sleeved, button-up, lavender shirt, its collar neatly pressed and with a sheer, white and purple flower-printed scarf knotted at her throat, and a pair of beige dress pants. Her hair is up, fixed in a neat bun. Her ears are adorned with simple, fake diamond studs. Her hands are clean and her nails neatly trimmed, her scars hidden. Rae isn't very good at lying, but she is very good at telling stories. Her appearance radiates proper, upstanding member of the community, who lives a blameless life and contributes to the good of her city and its people, yet is being unfairly persecuted by an overzealous and misguided member of law enforcement.

She will see how good of a storyteller she is, today.


Rae lingers in the bar long enough to have a light breakfast - her stomach isn't up to much, but going into this meeting running on empty doesn't seem like a good idea, either. The toast and eggs and juice are finished and the dishes taken away much too soon. Then all there is left is to get to her feet, to double-check she has everything she could conceivably need - her hand brushes the familiar weight of the little pocket-knife in its pocket - to go over to the door and grip the doorknob... and go.

The door closes quietly behind her.



(ooc: Feel free to catch her before she heads out. <33333)
 
 
03 May 2017 @ 12:25 pm
 
Sunshine is looking restless, sitting at a table and watching the room. She has a cup of tea long gone cold before her, as well as a blank pad of paper and a pen, but isn't doing much more than fidgeting with the pen at the moment.

However much the possibilities of what waits for her in her world scare her, now that she has made the decision to go back, she is anxious to do so. But there are friends in Milliways Rae refuses to leave without saying goodbye to. Just in case.

She'll leave notes if she absolutely has to; she's just resisting the idea that it's her best option.
 
 
19 April 2017 @ 01:58 pm
Emcee comes downstairs looking like the opposite of what he'd looked like to anyone who'd seen him last.

That is, he looks like himself. And more importantly, in the bigger scheme of things, he feels like himself.

Clad in his usual repurposed tuxedo trousers and suspenders, a white sleeveless undershirt, and grungy boots, he's also made the effort to put on makeup. Smoky blue eyeshadow, crimson lipstick. Because this is who he is.

When he reaches the Bar, he receives a note from Sinric saying a fond farewell. And he also receives a note from Bar herself, saying that he has bartending duty now. Never one to shirk a bartending shift, he takes a moment to ask for a few items before agreeing and lets her have her nap.

He sets up an iThing music player on the back shelf to play a collection of electro swing, beginning with a little ditty called Star Wars - Cantina Band. Emcee has no idea who or what this is but it's catchy, and he bops in place as he writes the specials on the board.

Happy Hour Specials
Cocktails:
Gin Rickey
French 75
Sidecar
Bee's Knees
Corpse Reviver
Hanky Panky


With that done, he pours himself a glass of cherry schnapps and snacks on Belgian fries from a huge bowl, enough to share with anyone who comes by.

[tiny tags: cassian andor, baze malbus, chirrut imwe, mary of guelders]
 
 
18 April 2017 @ 10:14 am
 
Spring is in the air at Milliways. Literally, if you are allergy prone. Flowers are in bloom, the grass is green, the mud is everywhere, and the demon bunnies are busy ensuring the next generation will be a large one.

In the midst of all of this, smoke wafts across the landscape - bitter with the scent of burning flesh and mechanics, mixed with the salt air of the sea and the scent of sun-baked sand.

Somewhere in the smoke, somehow, between one cloudy drift and another, someone appears sprawled on the grass. A thin man, bloodied and marked with blaster char. A man who, for once in his life, is completely and utterly bewildered. As he lies there, the injuries he came with fade, ghosting away as if they never were.

This new addition to Milliways doesn't have much time to consider his new and much muddier lot in life before he is joined, at not so far a distance, by a second man. A mountain of a man, armored and scarred, the last remnants of the sand from a past life whipping past and disappearing into the grass.

(Tiny tags: Chirrut Imwe, Baze Malbus, Anakin Solo)

(OOC: The boys are going to be investigating the Bar, so feel free to find them there (covered in mud) or out back (also muddy).)

(OOC: Alright my lovelies, we're going into slowtime - new pups are still welcome, and while play may be sporadic tomorrow we'll both be back tomorrow night. May the Force of others be with you.)
 
 
04 April 2017 @ 01:58 pm
 
It's one of those Spring days. One of those days when the sunlight is bright and warm upon your face, but the breeze is cool and refreshing. When the trees' first leaves are still that impossibly bright green, still just beginning to unfurl and turn to follow the sun. The grass is soft and clean under one's feet, and the garden plants are starting to wake up and get down to some serious growing.

And there is a Sunshine, feeling better - feeling more herself, certainly - sitting on a stone bench in the lee of one of the blossoming cherry trees. Her head is tilted to rest lightly against the tree trunk, her upturned eyes partially closed. The morning sun warms her back and shoulders, but the rest of her is dappled with the shadows of the blossoms above her, fluttering in the breeze.

If one were feeling generous, one might say she is meditating, or practicing mindfulness, or something high-minded like that. A cynic (or someone who knows her) might remark that she's probably fallen asleep. With more accuracy, one might say that Sunshine is just letting herself be, at the moment. Not thinking or worrying or trying to accomplish anything. Just soaking in the sunlight and existing, for a while.

It's very easy, when she lets herself unfocus, to let her gaze drift into the more visionary depths of her Dark Sight. At the moment, Rae is following the cascade of little sparks following the veins in each flower petal, basking in the tree's delight in the warm light of the Spring sun, the way its branches stretch and reach for it with every fiber of their being, and the tree's trust in the strength it draws from its roots, spreading, searching, down in the darkness under the earth.

It is occasionally good to be reminded that one can be pulled both ways and still sometimes, somehow, find peace.
 
 
23 March 2017 @ 08:41 am
Sunshine does her dead-level best to keep to her room while she's sick, letting the rats bring up food and water and tea at regular intervals. Some hallucinations are sensible - Lois Lane knows better than to put her coworkers at risk by bringing illness into the office - but some are not. And Rae can't really blame any of them for not wanting to be cooped up in boredom and misery when their lives tell them they should be out and about.

Her efforts work for a few days, but then -

Singer, performer, and prospective starlet Delysia LaFosse makes her way down the staircase in the self-assured, graceful way that suggests someone who isn't suffering from the flu, but is full of good cheer, graciousness, and vibrant energy.

The word she's going for is vivacious. It's just the sort of thing influential movie producers are looking for in a love interest. For casting a love interest, too.

But none of that is going to happen if she doesn't keep in practice. A strikingly pale fellow in white is idly improvising at the piano when she approaches. Thank goodness it isn't Michael; he would just be his impossible, insufferably handsome self at her and throw her off her stride with protestations of love. Delysia sweetly cajoles the pale fellow at the piano into playing accompaniment for her so that she might practice for tonight at the night club, and he kindly agrees.

Delysia knows a little about setting up microphones, and soon has a makeshift stage in the area just behind the pianist. And then the music begins:

"If I didn't care," she sings into the microphone, fever-bright eyes fluttering closed, "More than words can say... )
 
 
Current Mood: sick
 
 
13 March 2017 @ 09:17 am
 
Sunshine is pretty sure she must've slept crooked or something last night. She woke up tired, which is not out of the realm of what counts as 'normal' for her, but also aching like she had hauled rocks the previous day. A full-body crick-in-the-neck. That was new, and not something she wants to become a habit. So, despite the aches and pains as well as the cold, heavy clouds, and sporadic rain lingering from yesterday's storm, Rae forces herself to get up, get dressed, and go outside to stretch and do her morning run.

Though 'morning' is being generous. Dawn is still late, this time of year, and the overshadowing weather just delays daylight further. The bar grounds and lake shore are as dark as midnight.

Usually, her morning run is almost serene, if she doesn't let herself dwell on why it's necessary. She uses her run as a good opportunity to spend some time getting her thoughts in order before the day begins, her Dark Sight letting her find her way through the dark with hardly any effort. But Shiva wept, it's wretched outside today. Even with her running shoes' good traction, the mud of the saturated ground requires her to pay attention to every footfall to keep from slipping in it. She stumbles more than once, and the going is more arduous than usual.

By halfway around the darkened lake, she knows she has to slow down. Her head is pounding, and her chest isn't thanking her for all the lungfuls of cold, wet air. Rae leans on a rain-soaked tree trunk, coughing so hard she see sparkling bursts of color behind her eyelids. Like fireworks.

Damnation.
 
 
04 February 2017 @ 03:15 pm
 
Emcee (modestly dressed, no makeup except for eyeliner) comes downstairs, a paperback book in hand. He takes two folded notes from between the book's pages and leaves them with the Bar to be delivered to Abe no Seimei and Sinric. The notes both read:

I would greatly appreciate it if you could help a friend of mine who has lost his memory. Will you please advise? We will be in the bar; or if you miss us, please leave me a note and we can arrange a meeting.

Thank you!
-MC


Emcee then makes his way to a quiet corner booth to wait for Eric and/or the recipients of his notes.

The book he is reading is titled 1984.
 
 
25 January 2017 @ 09:23 pm
The door opens, briefly showing a view of a slightly cluttered living room.

A vampire steps through.

The door closes behind him and disappears.

He is tall, the vampire. Dressed in dirty blue jeans and nothing else, with a bare chest and bare, muddy feet. His hair is tousled and his eyes are wide.

This isn't Sookie's kitchen.

He turns and sees the bare wall. No door.

The look in his eyes edges toward full-on panic.


What is this place?
And why is he here?



{ooc: and welcome to Season Four of True Blood. This is Eric. He is a vampire. Those are the only two things he knows about himself. Clean slate, child-like naïveté. Please don't break him.}
 
 
20 January 2017 @ 06:49 pm
 
There's a vampire in the Bar.
More specifically at the bar, lounging.

(It's easier when your feet can reach the floor, even when you're seated in a stool).

He's got a bottle of TruBlood (yuck) and a newspaper from back home.