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.
12 July 2017 @ 09:33 pm
Fry is sat at a table, looking at a small pile of ten bean seeds in front of him.

This is a stupid holiday homework project. Why can't his new teacher ask for a 'what did you do over the summer' scrapbook like a normal person?

After about ten minutes of staring at them, he opens the scrapbook and writes.

'1. I can line up the beans in a row.'
10 July 2017 @ 10:55 am
Wilford wasn’t worried, exactly, that he’d never find this place again. Okay, he was. And he was ready to blame it all on Walter. His idiot brother showed up out of the blue, and then Milliways stopped showing up. The bar has disappeared for weeks before, and came close to being gone for a couple of months, but this time was a little more worrying. But it’s here now, and when Wilford steps through, he’s both startled and relieved. And then he remembers why he’d been so antsy to see this place turn up again. He spares a quick glance down at the folder in his hand before rushing across the bar and up the stairs. He’s gone for just long enough to stash his folder in his room, before coming back down in less of a rush than he went up.

There’s something different about him today, and it’s not just the obnoxious red and white striped jacket he’s wearing. His hair’s longer, and actually styled instead of just cut. Now, while it looks like he hasn’t shaved in a while, it seems intentional, rather than out of an exhausted laziness.

Buster spots him before he spots Buster, and rushes over to say hi! Wilford puts up with the jumping and yelping for about three seconds, before heading over to the bar to borrow a few things.

Five minutes later, he’s outside teaching his dog how to play fetch. Sort of. He’s got a small bucket of baseballs, which he’s tossing into the air and hitting into the woods for Buster to chase after and search for. He doesn’t seem to be having any luck in finding them though, and eventually comes back so Wilford can give him another one to chase.

[ooc: catch him inside, or out.]
08 July 2017 @ 12:13 pm
When life gives you watermelons, you might also get lemons

There's a black rain cloud hanging over Wilford today, as he absently picks at his lunch at the bar. The nerve of some people, just showing up uninvited like that and ruining what was shaping up to be a perfectly good day.

Wilford's got the TV tuned to some garbage, where a zombie is being made to run obscene obstacle courses, but he's not really watching it. It's just noise to keep his mind from running too far away from him.

Seriously why now?
06 July 2017 @ 08:47 pm

Jim walks into the bar, laughing. He looks around, says 'no', and walks out again

Annnnnd, then he's back and is presented with a note. Just like that, his good mood evaporates. Not that he really has carpets, at least not in places the dog is allowed to go. But...ugh.

Well. Whatever. He checks for Sherlock - no go, and that lowers his mood further. He talks to Bar about London - no go, and no prizes for guessing how that makes him feel. So he goes to get the dog, and just goes home. It's apparently one of those days after all. Bleurgh.

06 July 2017 @ 11:40 am
Wilford needs to get off of Billy's sofa before he goes insane, which means something else needs to be taken care of first. After letting Buster outside to run around, he stops by the bar to leave a note.

Jim Moriarty )

After that, he goes back to slowly start packing up his things.
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.


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]
28 June 2017 @ 11:17 am
Wilford’s stitches are out, but that doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It just means that he’s able to move around a bit more, now that the worry of popping the damn things out has passed, and now he’s finding a whole host of new ways in which he can make himself hurt.

It does mean that some of the little things, like bathing and dressing himself have become a little easier. Which means when he shuffles into the bar with Buster at his heels today, he’s just an unshaven mess, compared to the greasy, unshaven mess he was last time. Before making his way to the fireplace to get comfortable, he stops by the bar to order something that isn’t a turkey sandwich or cheap Chinese delivery. He’s surprised when he’s presented with a small rainbow cake, decorated ornately with nuts and dried fruit.

“What’s this for?” Wilford asks.

He gets a napkin. Happy birthday

“It’s not my birthday,” he says.

Then congratulations on not dying

Wilford rolls his eyes and enlists the help of a rat to move his cake and plate of gimbap, and the diced chicken for the dog, over to the fire, where he slowly gets settled. He might even be willing to share his cake if you ask nicely. In the meantime, he'll be playing with some Legos. He's building a catapult to fling random small items across the room.
26 June 2017 @ 01:33 pm
[OOM: A believable lie is best couched in the truth.; or, a month passes. Sherlock is busy.]

The door opens from a long, brightly-lit corridor in a London hospital. Sherlock walks in wearing a hospital gown with a dressing gown over it, pulling along his IV on a stand. Technically he's only supposed to walk to the end of the hall and back -- but a little rest at the end of the universe should be fine, right?

He takes in all the changes, toys, and creatures that suddenly populate the bar in a glance. He sighs, wraps the dressing gown tighter around himself, and tugs the IV stand along to the nearest comfortable chair, which he folds himself into as best as he's able.
26 June 2017 @ 12:03 pm
It's noon. Or as close to noon as the asteroid on which Milliways was built ever gets. And as the not quite real sun heaves itself to directly overhead, the change sweeps over the building, inside and out. The entire Bar- walls, floor, furniture, everything- breaks out in a profusion of Legos, Capselas, Meccanoblox, and every other construction toy imaginable. And Ellen, who had been practicing hitting straw-stuffed mannequins with a hockey stick for reasons of her own, finds herself dropped directly behind the Bar. A vidwindow pops up in front of her, and in front of every other patron to enter:

Hello! Welcome to Milliways. Today, Milliways marks the Cybertronian holiday of Cubefall, the anniversary of the day upon which the Allspark first landed on the rocky world that would become Cybertron. Would you like to sample some possible reconfigurations? (y/n)

Ellen's has the additional line:

Since we're a bit low on Cybertronian patrons this year, you got nominated to do the explaining.

Ellen would say something about this, but she's got vidwindows popping up in front of her. And while some of them are okay, well...
Vidwindows! Yay! )
"The Genghis Khan thing is starting to get old, you know."
25 June 2017 @ 01:26 pm
Wilford's off his painkillers, because he's sick of being strung out on top of everything else. It turns out that hey, having your insides scrambled around and sewn back together hurts! Like, a lot! Go figure.

He's with Buster over by the fireplace again, propped up on every cushion and pillow he could find, with the dog sprawled out over his legs. It's still surprisingly uncomfortable, but there's not a whole lot he can do about that.
21 June 2017 @ 08:22 am
Wilford is sick of Billy’s living room. He’s sick of staying with someone whose culinary experience barely extends beyond a turkey sandwich. He’s sick of… everything, really.

He shuffles into the bar with Buster close at his heels, and makes slow tracks straight for the fireplace. He’s figured out that he can just about sit up comfortably if he keeps his feet up on the table and puts about three cushions behind his back, so that’s what he does to get settled. It’s a slow and painful process just getting down onto the sofa, but he manages it eventually. Once he gets there Buster climbs up with him, laying across his lap like a living blanket, and giving a semi-toothless snarl to anybody who gets too close - waitrats included.

How Wilford looks is probably a good approximation of how he feels. He hasn’t been able to shower in days, so he’s a bit of a greasy, unshaven mess, though he hasn’t got enough hair on his face yet to pull off that intentionally scruffy look his older self used to wear. The circles under his eyes are so dark, it almost looks like he was punched in the face, and he’s still looking awfully pale. The hoodie he’s wearing is about three sizes too big, but at least it’s clean. Wilford won’t let Billy get close enough to help him bathe, but he’s happy to let the man do all the laundry he wants.

In short, Wilford is a hot mess today, in every possible way. But he’d rather be a hot mess here, than on Billy’s horrible sofa, watching his horrible TV, and eating his horrible sandwiches.
19 June 2017 @ 01:26 pm
[oom: You’re a tough little bastard, you know that?

warning for uncomfortable and invasive medical procedures]
19 June 2017 @ 09:38 am
At some point, Wilford manages to sneak away to leave a note for Jim.

Jim Moriarty )

There's something a bit off about the handwriting. Like maybe the person who wrote it has had more than a few too many to drink.
15 June 2017 @ 01:02 pm
 So, things are still a bloody mess, and Jim is about dead on his feet. Once again, he did not intend to come to the bar and once more, here he is and unable to get back out. He doesn't have the energy to yell at Bar this time, so he goes upstairs and takes a shower and even tries to sleep...which lasts forty-five minutes, before he's woken up by his brain screaming about all the things that need to be done. Progress has been made, but he's not going to be able to rest until he's removed the people at the root of the issue.

So he drags himself back downstairs, and the door still won't open. He turns to look at Bar. She produces a sandwich, and a pint of cold water, with her usual silence except it still manages to be pointed. Jim grits his teeth, and slopes over to the nearest stool.

'Forcing care on people is a violation of their human rights.'

Bar does not seem overly concerned. 
12 June 2017 @ 09:23 pm
The door bursts open with a crash, and a man falls through backwards, landing flat on his back and sliding a few feet before coming to a stop.

His nose is bloodied, and for a moment he lies quite still. Then, he opens his eyes and blinks in slight bewilderment.

He sits up.

Well, this is odd. The skinheads must have thrown him in a pub and left... for some reason other than to go to the bar for more beer.

He gets unsteadily to his feet.

"I'm gravely injured! You're all witnesses. I don't have to do my accounts." Bernard announces to the room in general, stumbling over to the bar to see if he can find either a bartender or a handkerchief.

[ooc: Mild violence warning in first thread]
12 June 2017 @ 10:26 am
Wilford has had an amazing week so far. The story is the only thing on television, and he's been run ragged keeping up with new updates to run every few hours. Other networks have picked it up by now, but that's just the natural course of things. His name's the one that's out there, and his quality of life is already vastly improving.

(Okay, Billy's still footing his lunch bill, but that'll only last for a few more days.)

Life is fucking fantastic at this point. And to celebrate, Wilford is at the bar eating a dinner he can't afford to eat at home, with a glass of wine he also can't afford. Thanks for that, Jim. That boxing money sure has come in handy, lately.
12 June 2017 @ 06:46 am
It's the middle of the night in Beach City when Pearl slips out of her room and into the Bar, a sword tucked under each arm. Not that she's sneaking. She has any number of reasons ready to hand for why she's still going back to that strange place... her work on the door, the potential access to new technology and research, the need to monitor if any other gems have arrived there...

Alright, the swords would be be a bit harder to explain. But if she's going to linger here for perfectly legitimate and logical reasons, she might as well be able to practice to pass the time! Right?

(ooc: feel free to waylay her at the bar, or en route to the practice room!)