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.
19 July 2017 @ 08:35 pm
((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.))
17 July 2017 @ 04:58 pm
16 year old Jim got a message from his older self, telling him chances to come to the bar would be virtually zero over the next month, so he'd better take one if it turned up. He didn't say why the chances would be zero, but that's par for the course.

So anyway, the kid's taken over a corner of the bar. There's a computer, a pile of junk food, textbooks, future!movies to watch and...apparently some fashion choices to make, if the magazines and bolts of cloth are anything to go by.

He's as botherable as he ever is. Possibly more than usual.
12 July 2017 @ 12:04 pm
After spending so much time with so many people during the county fair, Emcee needed time by himself to decompress.

Attention is like a drug to him. He'd missed that particular high, night after night, performing for a captive audience. But now that he no longer has a nightly audience, these days the highs are far less frequent, and the crashes are much lower. These days, the liquor and sex can only do so much.

(He misses other highs, too. But he's managing without them. Just about.)

It's a quiet early evening when Emcee settles into a deck chair on the back porch. With a glass of red wine and a basket of fried paradoxes on the table next to him, he lights up a cigarette and draws his knees up to his chest.

He's listening to classic Elton John through a pair of earbuds to drown out the silence.
10 July 2017 @ 07:51 am
Well. That was a hell of a day. Less than a day. A hell of a, what, twelve hours?

Young Jim Moriarty and William Douglas enter the bar from the same door, not speaking to each other, in the middle of the night, and both very quickly vanish. Jim to who-knows-where, and William to the room he still keeps here.

When he comes back down in a couple of hours, he settles at the bar and asks for hot chocolate. No, a drink. No, never mind, one of those computers. A computer with, what was it Cassidy said, cat videos? That's supposed to be a thing? And also with, um...you know...eh...

A napkin appears with a question, in answer to which William nods quickly before crumpling it up. And then a laptop appears, and--bless you, Bar--a cup of Irish coffee. Caffeine and alcohol, all in one place.

He's going to do some research. On cat videos. And other things.

((Two OOMs: Jim and William in 1450 Rome. They're totally on the same wavelength...until they realize that they're not so much. Warnings on the first for cheerful sexual situations with quick fading to black, but mostly a lot of conversation; the second is pretty much just arguing, with warnings for consent and homophobia issues and really poor communication.))
05 July 2017 @ 07:03 pm
Jim circa. 1992 wanders in wrapped up in a thick winter coat, scarf, hat, gloves, the lot. Without missing a beat he continues walking, shedding clothes as he goes until he's in just jeans and a T-shirt, dumping everything else into a chair. Bar lends him a pair of swimming shorts and towel, which he swaps for a bag stuffed full of books. He takes a glass of lemonade with him, and disappears off to the Caribbean inlet for a good long swim.

He's back when the sun gets low, perched on a bar stool with a decent base tan, and dripping water everywhere. He wipes his face with the towel, and says, 'okay, can I see it, please?'

The Book of Kells appears in front of him. He uses a dry bit of towel to open it up, because ancient manuscripts don't mix well with salt water and he might decide to sell it after all. In the meantime, he'll brush up on his Latin and admire the artwork. What a lovely day it's been. 

[OOC: Catch him inside or out.]
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]
29 May 2017 @ 12:38 pm
"Aw, Jesus."

It's what, four in the morning, five? and William was on his way to take a piss outside, and grumbling to himself about how it was too damned early to be up but a man's got to do what a man's got to do, and now here he is in this place.

Which he hasn't seen in quite a while. Couple of months? More? Anyway, it's too early in the morning for this. He stomps grumpily over to the restroom, and then over to the bar to ask for some trousers or something because Jesus he's just in a shirt.

And once that is settled, some of that hot chocolate they've got here. Aye, with the wee white sugary bits on top, the mallows or whatever you call them. They're nice.
28 April 2017 @ 06:02 pm
After depositing William in the cells, Harry leaves a message at the Bar:

Friends of William Douglas may this day and night find him in the cells, where they have leave to visit him.

Harry himself can be found not far away if anyone has questions-- or just wants to chat.
27 April 2017 @ 02:19 pm
"--Papal envoy! A fucking papal envoy. The fucking envoy to fucking Rome!"

It's one of those entrances where the person is so busy shouting back over his shoulder that he doesn't realize he's walked into Milliways. When he does realize it, William Douglas stares wildly around the room and shouts again: "SO YOU'D BETTER WATCH THE FUCK OUT!"

Then he stalks to the bar.

((See backroom post. Warnings for violence and homophobia in the threads.))
06 April 2017 @ 03:17 pm
I'll have some family business of my own to deal with.

Now it's dawn, another December morning, crisp and fair. His father's in bed, complaining, going back and forth between insisting that he's fine and they don't need to go anywhere, and fussing at the men packing. (William's orders, that. This is no time for Stirling Castle: the Douglases need to be on Douglas land.)

He's got his own packing to do, but as he stares around his chamber he finds his hands shaking. Ah, Christ. Maybe a drink. Maybe a drink will help. Or maybe some solid food.


It's a pale, gingerly-moving William Douglas who enters Milliways, and heads straight for the Bar. A glass of wine, some meat. Nothing fancy.

((OOC: the OOM link goes to a scene from the play. warnings for violence at the end.))
28 March 2017 @ 12:19 pm
As he suspected he would, Jim caught Sherlock's - heh, Rory's - stupid bloody cold. He went to bed angry, frustrated, and sick to the back teeth of this entire bloody bar.

He wakes up with a Welsh accent, a body that feels weirdly exhausted, and a whooooole lot of surprise at finding himself in a bedroom that is not wallpapered in Laura Ashley, cluttered with years' worth of books and theatre junk. Gethin has never set foot in a room so opulent, and so incomprehensible to him. He spends a good hour looking at the clothes, the books, the...frankly pornographic, yet extremely beautiful...photography on the wall of the library (the centrepiece of which involves his own face, and the blurred figure of a much taller man in the background. He doesn't look at it for long.) Everything is very, very weird.

In short, Gethin Roberts does not have a bloody clue what's going on. But at least there are clothes he recognises - comfortably 80s in style - and if the cold he's got means he can't go searching Jonathan out, at least there appears to be a...bar, downstairs?

What. The Actual. Hell. 

[OOC: getting in under the wire! Open until the end of March. :)]
22 March 2017 @ 11:16 am
[oom: hero work is easy, life is hard]

When Barry arrived in Milliways after ducking out of his lab he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He doesn't actually have a lot of experience playing hooky.

Still bugged at Joe, Barry decided to go out back and test a theory.

Maybe trying to run a mile in three seconds just to spite the man who was (possibly legitimately) mad at him is a bit stupid, but it doesn't stop Barry from giving it a go. What does stop him is a dizzy spell that hits not long after he takes off from a starting point out by the lake.

He trips up on his own feet and does an impressive skid and tumble in the dirt, which afterwards finds him back inside, sitting in a chair near the fireplace and picking bits of gravel out of his skinned forearms.

He's noticeably unhappy, and looking rough and dirty. The sleeves of his sweater and the button-down shirt underneath are both ripped, and he has his road-rashed knees to deal with after.

Rethinking the whole 'skipping class' thing? A little.
20 March 2017 @ 07:10 pm
There's a young medieval Scotsman at the bar, frowning and arguing with a piece of paper. Or, more likely, arguing with the Bar herself. "Christ, I don't want to read all this, I just want a box of those cigarettes. And the lighty thing. Come on, I'll pay next time I'm in here..."

Another piece of paper appears, this time a note on a napkin, and he groans.
12 March 2017 @ 02:01 pm
[oom: finding the way]

The last few days have been... intense is a word, incredible is another. Barry's not sure where he lies between the two at the moment as he steps out of Iron Heights prison and into...

"The bar?" He looks around a little stunned, and then he smiles. It's a little weary, he's been wrung out physically and emotionally, but he's recovering steadily from both.

Letting the door close behind him he swipes at his face with his hand, wiping away the last of any tears that might have been left from a visit with his dad. Straightening the sweater he has on over his t-shirt and blue jeans he walks across the bar.

Remembering from his first visit to Milliways how time can be weird here he wonders how much has passed from then to now.

Approaching the counter he sits down on a stool carefully, looking down at the bar top and hesitantly offering a greeting. "Hi, I don't know if you remember me, but-- "

A plate loaded with chicken alfredo appears and beside it a napkin with note that reads Welcome back, Barry.

Barry blinks at the food and the note, then laughs.

"Thanks," he says and starts digging in, suddenly aware that he's starving. Bar subtly provides refills as he works through the food and in between bites Barry takes in the place.

Yeah, he's pretty glad to be back.
The bar room of Milliways is always full of sound - the clatter of dishes and clink of glasses, chairs being scooted back or further in, footsteps upon the floor, rats squeaking, the background murmur of conversations overlapping one another.

But tonight the main door to the bar opens to the mouth of an city alleyway, to a caucophony of noise and music, full of seething crowds and colorful parade floats, the smells of food and sweat and smoke and beer and those colorful fruity drinks sold in yard-long plastic glasses with umbrellas in them. Mardi Gras is in full swing and New Orleans has outdone itself this time.

Yrael enters, trailing laughter from a section of the crowd on the other side. His white hair is decorated with purple, gold and green feathers, his pale face partially hidden by a sharp, glittery cat mask of gold, behind which his green eyes are bright. Over his white shirt this evening he wears a shiny waistcoat of purple, gold, green, and black. It's clearly party time, big time, show time -

"And then some!" he grins, seeing Milliways. "Fat Tuesday is upon us, Milliways! Welcome to Mardi Gras! Come, dance, explore! Laissez les bons temps rouler!"

Yrael will make sure the door stays open for any party-goer who would like to partake in the joie de vivre, and the Bar can certainly provide a change of costume...

(ooc: The post will be open all weekend and into next week as needed! Usual party-thread guidelines apply! Tag in! Threadhop! Meet new people and get into trouble! :D Yrael will be around, but his mun will not be able to tag much until Monday evening. <333333)
22 February 2017 @ 07:13 pm
Jim has been rather enjoying spending weeks being moody and depressed in his suite, mainly because Sherlock's up there to make sure he's not actually all that moody and depressed. Bloody boyfriends, and their way of making life better. Jim would grump about that if he weren't pleased by it.

He's only in the bar now because his favourite distraction is asleep and anyway, they need food. Jim puts in a large order and, on a whim, asks for a current newspaper from their world. Bar provides an iPad with various headlines, and he scrolls through until he hits upon the news that NASA has discovered a solar system where life might have evolved.

He forgets about the food, and pretty much everything else for a while. Eventually he wanders over to the Window, still reading, and then just sits looking out at the explosions. 

(The ice cream he bought will be melting all over the Bar at some point, so if anyone wants free food he's probably not going to object, or even notice.)
22 February 2017 @ 10:25 am
[oom (and then not): Jamie has a nightmare.]

It's been a while since the Bar has been set upon by this pair of boisterous Scottish boys, but here they are-- James still looking pale and sleepy-eyed, but this seems to have no effect on the volume at which he is laughing at whatever (probably filthy) joke William just told. Perhaps this is when their lordly background shows the most: their complete lack of self consciousness in taking up space, in bursting into a room and making as much noise as they please.

[ooc: two lads, one post! feel free to request both or either]
21 February 2017 @ 08:21 am
[oom: Barry's best day ever.]

The front door opens to a heavy downpour, lightning flashing and thunder booming in the distance, and a young man runs through with his head ducked against the deluge; dragging a silver rollercase behind him.

All at once he notices the change in his surroundings and he startles, tries to stop, and turns to look around and the end result is the squealing of the rubber soles of his Chuck's on the wooden floorboards as his feet go out from underneath him and he hits the ground on his backside.

"Ow," is the first thing he says, sitting in a puddle on the floor. The next is a string of bewildered half-formed questions as he looks back towards the closed door and around at the bar at large.

"W-- what-- th-- where-- I just-- -- whu?"

He'll pick himself up in a minute, when he's done staring and stuttering in utter bafflement.

[ooc: New Barry, different mun. Barry is coming in from Arrow episode 2.9, before the lightning strike. Right now he is just an ordinary guy, sans superpowers. Feel free to meet him upon his entrance, or later when he's sitting at a table trying to dry off and take in the new surroundings.]
17 February 2017 @ 11:27 am
William Douglas would strenuously deny being lonely. How can he be lonely when he's at Douglas Castle with his mother and four or five younger siblings and getting his marriage arranged and all of it? So that's not why he's come to Milliways, and he's not actively looking for James or anything like that, he's just here for a drink. Maybe to kick around a football, even in the snow. He's not lonely, he's just after getting away from all the noise with mothers and children.