11 August 2017 @ 05:44 pm
Noriko comes through the door looking...essentially not at all like her usual self. In place of the usual modern and rather baring clothes, she's in polished boots and a fitted waistcoat, pulling at a black knotted neckcloth. Her hair is neatly queued back with a securely tied black ribbon, and from the securely-stitched leather harness (that thankfully somewhat obscures the fact that she's wearing breeches) hangs a short sword.

It isn't the typical British boarding sabre, because the person wearing it isn't a typical British officer, despite the captain's bars on her bottle-green coat. A coat which she is hurriedly shedding, because she really quite hates wearing it, leaving her in shades of cream and white in her shirtsleeves. However, upon not finding the valet that should be by the door, she stops and looks up: then over, at what ought to have been an open door and the lieutenant she'd last seen on the other side of it, seeing neither.

"Ah. Well," she says to herself, and re-folds the letters, carefully hanging her jacket on a nearby coat tree.

If only she had the faintest idea where she was, collecting herself might be a somewhat faster process.

[ooc: AU week Noriko is a go! She's coming from the Temeraire series of books by Naomi Novik, and is a captain in the British Aerial Corps under somewhat...peculiar circumstances.]
 
 
20 July 2017 @ 05:00 pm
 
Noriko is sitting in the bar today working on something.

She has a flat of blown-glass balls, hollow and with a hole in each, and is busy arranging tiny ferns and succulents in each one, layered above a spread of miniscule pebbles. There's a whole palette of colors in them; deep greens, glossy wet blacks and grays, oranges, lavenders, seafoams. Someone needed to take a little while to do some calming redecoration for her room. Considering she lives here more than she lives at home...it might as well be nice.

She'll keep an eye out for people she knows.
 
 
30 June 2017 @ 03:01 pm
 
Noriko comes through the door (happily now no longer a colorful bird, though it was fun for three days) and upon looking around breathes a small sigh of relief; she's been at a very fancy party if her clothing is anything to go by, it being a white dress that sweeps over one shoulder and leaves most of her left side entirely bare. Her hair is done up in a knot at the back of her head, showing off the undercut flower at her nape and all in all leaving her looking as much unlike the usual Noriko that shows up in Milliways as possible. And now she's somewhere comfortable where she doesn't need to parry back way too many stupid come-ons. It amazes her that men will try even if she's in the company of someone else.

But. Well.

"I'm gonna need a drink."
 
 
11 June 2017 @ 10:30 pm
 
Noriko, today, comes into the bar in workout clothes; baggy harm pants pegged around her knees, a tank top, and soft wrap boots. She hadn't intended, specifically, to come into the bar, and so she tosses her hair out of her sweaty face before asking for a tablet and a cheeseburger, and a very large drink. That done, she'll be parked on a chair at a table, watching a video series on blacksmithing different weapons.

She knows nothing about blacksmithing, but it's entertaining, and she's game for random knowledge. She's balanced on two legs of the chair, sitting backwards with her feet hooked up on the rungs, and...oddly, not touching the table at all. She's good at finding her balance points.

Currently, Nori is absently flicking open and shut a bamboo fan, and thinking. This could have ramifications.
 
 
14 May 2017 @ 09:59 pm
 
It's been a while for Noriko. Not overly long, mind, but long enough that there are some noticeable changes. The short hair is probably first, and the stuff in her arms is probably second, given there's also a stack of books under her arm that she's trying not to drop. She didn't exactly intend to move her crap here, but she supposes given other things changing, she can bite the bullet and change her stuff here too. Some of it, anyway.

She sets all the things down on a table, and steps up to the bar to start a conversation, going back and forth with a steadily-growing stack of replies on napkins being discarded to one side, and the numbers on the tab board by her name shifting--though not always down. Eventually, with a sheet of paper spread out in front of her, Nori seems satisfied, until she points at a line drawn on the floorplan. "Just...no window right there, huh? 'Cause that's a little weird. Full frontal and all."

She'll be trading room keys after that, and making a couple trips up and down the stairs in between snacks, and there will be decorating stuff later, once she makes sure the magic hasn't messed with her clothes and things.
 
 
22 January 2017 @ 04:51 pm
It's been a while for Noriko: she was in around New Years, and then left for a little while, and comes back in today in a windblown coat over leather leggings and a long-sleeved tunic. It's now nearing the end of Janurary, and Noriko smiles as she steps through to the bar, relieved at being out of the dreary weather.

She's holding onto a bag as she comes in--purple hair dye since she just got her blue touched up, and a bunch of earrings--and asks for a jewelry organizer to dump all of them into. It's several dozen plugs, all different materials and with inlaid or painted or varnished patterns: the ones she already has in are clear glass with tiny black flowers inlaid. She also asks for a mirror, and a sterile piercing set as she retreats into a booth.

Definitely botherable as she sorts jewelry. And does other things.
 
 
01 April 2016 @ 03:39 pm
 
Noriko comes into the bar with the rain, a nylon hood over her head--also covered with a borrowed fitted cap over her mohawk--and on her modified rollerblades, skipping off them and bending down to pick them up from the floor. She blows the wet forebraids out of her eyes and closes the door behind her to keep from getting too wet, setting down a backpack half-full of origami paper and groceries; tea, honey, rice, and some assorted other ingredients to make mochi. Well, a different location won't kill her, she supposes. She'll be in the kitchen either way, and this kitchen is better-stocked.

Once the rice is set to cooking, she'll be parked with the origami paper at a table near the kitchen entrance, working on several plum-blossom paper balls.
 
 
22 August 2015 @ 10:36 pm
 
Noriko has been busy for the last hour or so. She's amassed hundreds of origami cranes in all shades of the rainbow and all sizes, and in wildly different patterns, which she's gently layering into a tall glass jar; those metal fingertips make for incredibly sharp folds. As she fills that up she's making dozens of miniscule birds to drop in and cover the spaces, and while it may not be the requisite thousand it's certainly enough for her. (By her math, though, she should be pretty close.)

While she's layering carefully, she's got earbuds in her ears thumping out music to which she's murmuring along with the rather fast rap. She's got good flow, nobody can deny that part.
 
 
17 February 2008 @ 02:20 pm
 
Some time during the afternoon, two completely different people, upon noticing that the bar had been unmanned for quite some time, came to the exact same conclusion and had the exact same solution.

So it was that Remy LeBeau, Thief turned Delicate Flower, and Domino Harvey, model turned bounty hunter, found themselves behind the bar at almost exactly the same time, there was a quiet discussion and an agreement was reached. The specials board was written up and they both took an end of the bar.

The board, for the curious, read as follows:
Specials for the moment
1/2 off any drink ON FIRE
1/2 off any drink we don't know by name.
All tips benefit charity

So there you have it, ask for one, ask for the other, don't ask for anyone and see who you get, fun for the whole family!
 
 
10 February 2008 @ 08:29 pm
 
Lilly's been out of the bar for a couple of weeks, and okay, she forgot to leave a note, but it was an emergency. (Well, it was making umbrella drinks with Meg in the suite one night and deciding they would taste better on an actual beach. Totally an emergency.)

She's back now though, sitting at the bar and sipping a banana daiquiri. She's pouting a little. It just doesn't taste the same without a tropical breeze and a view of the ocean.

At least her tan's still perfect.
 
 
06 February 2008 @ 02:12 am
 
Well hey, look who's back! That's right, ladies and gentlemen, it's Miniver. The usual palm tree Miniver, 25 years old and ENTIRELY too drunk to care that as soon as he tumbles in from LA, Bar outfits him with copious amounts of glitter and eyeliner.

If he could see himself, he'd probably think it was hot.

The tipsy poet takes a look around, decides this all can only lead to fun, and finds himself a seat and a beer.
 
 
05 February 2008 @ 07:13 pm
 
Remy meandered his way down the stairs, as he was prone to doing, surprisingly, he'd forgotten what day it was. This didn't happen very often.

Except for the fact that it did.

In any case, he barely even noticed the fwip, nor did he notice the cat ears. He did, however, notice the tail, since that arrived with something more of a bendy-straw crackling noise, and when he opened his mouth to say: "What t'hell?" he noticed the fangs as well. Those were going to take some getting used to.

Apparently someone decided that Remy needed to be more true to his nature. Or something.
 
 
22 January 2008 @ 12:20 pm
 
Remy was not, as he had been recently, wearing a corset and yoga pants. In fact, he was wearing a big fuzzy sweater and yoga pants and curled up around a box of tissues and a mug of tea in one of the chairs near the fire.

Somebody, it seemed, had managed to get himself a cold.
 
 
12 January 2008 @ 12:03 am
 
That guy in the bodice and the yoga pants was back. Cobalt and copper today instead of burgundy and gold.

He was sprawled across one of the chairs near the fire, looking entirely comfortable for a guy wearing a bodice and a pair of yoga pants. He was rolling a coin back and forth across his knuckles, and was quite likely making lists in his head of things that he'd need for a road trip.

G'on and talk to him though, you know you want to.
 
 
05 January 2008 @ 05:24 pm
 
Since a certain Holiday Party, a certain Delicate Flower had decided that he quite liked corsets, thank you very much.

The harem pants, eh, not so much, maybe for special occasions, yoga pants, on the other hand, were quite comfortable and still showed off his, er, assets.

Hence, Thief/Deliate Flower sprawled in a booth wearing a teal and chocolate corset, and matching yoga pants. Go on and bother him, you know you want to.

(recycled EP? Whut? >,>)
 
 
03 January 2008 @ 11:08 pm
 
Boredom strikes in even the most patient people, causing them to do a number of strange things. They'll hang upside down, they'll play checkers with themselves, they'll do anything to escape the lull of reality.

Nick was not a patient man. Ever. Especially not in life, so his death wasn't much different. What he was doing was something one would consider utterly ridiculous, if they knew him.

He was braiding strands of his own hair, looking up in a cross-eyed manner at his fringe as he wound one strand over, the next under, and on the process went. He'd gotten bored with reading, he didn't feel like going out onto the range and shooting, and he certainly didn't feel like being beat in chess by Bar again.

Hence the hair braiding.

Botherable!
 
 
02 December 2007 @ 04:47 am
 
Not really OOM, just upstairs a certain Delicate Flower decided it was time for another open house.

C'mon up for a visit, he doesn't bite unless you ask.

Repost? What repost? I see no repost here. And I certainly didn't edit the linkpost accordingly. Pffft, why would I do that? >_>
 
 
18 November 2007 @ 08:36 pm
 
Miniver had wandered into the bar after work with the intention of getting a drink before Pickles got home back in LA. He'd gone over to the couch and flopped down in front of the fire, intending to wait for a rat to wander by. But it's been a loooong few days, and within minutes, he'd ended up dozing off.

So now the couch is occupied by a scruffy fellow with bassett-hound eyes, dressed in stagehand black, dead asleep.

It might take some effort to wake him up, but it never takes much effort to mess with the unconscious...
 
 
18 November 2007 @ 03:25 am
 
[OOM Millitimed to Wednesday night/Early Thursday, wherein there's a whole lot of banter between Remy 'Gambit' LeBeau, and Pickles 'Pickles' Pickles, the former needing to unwind, and the latter figuring he'd do that the best way both of them knew how. Obvious warnings for sex, booze, and bad jokes ahead.]
 
 
15 November 2007 @ 09:45 am
 
Remy was back.

Okay, so he'd been back for a week or so, but most of that was spent lurking upstairs just in case he had any appointments.

Tonight though, tonight he was actually downstairs, sprawled across one of the chairs near the fire, just watching the flames and rolling a coin back and forth across his knuckles idly.

G'on and poke the introspective Thief, he probably won't be bothered by it.