23 December 2006 @ 11:46 pm
 
There is a sign up- discreet though well-placed.

Free Seminar on Maximizing your Shareholder Value and Profit Margins

hosted by Special Guest Lecture TONY ROBBINS

Millitime, Millidate, in Room 2342

First 5 arrivals receive free programming update for their Blackberry that is not due to be released to the public for 3 months!



... Y'know, if this doesn't bring them running...



Info about this right here!
 
 
23 December 2006 @ 10:51 pm
 
Belar's real proud of those mountains, now that the snow's finally settled in and everything's in shape for maximum winter-time use. Time to go see if he can't rustle up some interest in 'em, as long as they're out there waiting for people, hey? At least, once he's done with his obligations.

The sign on his table tonight reads:

ANSWERING PRAYERS - BACK IN 15 MINUTES

WILL TAKE QUESTIONS ABOUT SNOWBOARDING, SKIING, BOBSLED, LUGE, OR OTHER SNOW-BASED SPORT LESSONS AFTER THAT

NO, SERIOUSLY, THERE'S MOUNTAINS OUTSIDE, GO LOOK


That, he figures, should do the trick.
 
 
23 December 2006 @ 10:51 pm
 
"Tea," River tells the bar, head tilted to the ceiling and both hands spread on the bartop.

What she gets is bubble tea (melon, with soy milk) and a small plate of tofu-vegetable dumplings. She beams, and carts them both off to a table.

They're very tasty. For the record.

(Were her dress and sweater and boots always so... J. Crew?)
 
 
23 December 2006 @ 08:47 pm
 
A few minutes ago, Tom stormed through the door to the lake and into the bar, thanks to events concerning Door and a certain pirate captain. He spoke with Laini and then disappeared into the House of Arch.

When he reemerges, he is a changed man. His tailored suit, robes, and tie are no longer in evidence. Tom now sports black eyeliner, leather pants, a clingy black shirt, and elbow length fishnet gloves with the tips of the fingers cut off. Atop this ensemble is a long, black leather duster (very much like the Marquis de Carabas', though he'd never admit it). Underneath all of these outer garments is another far more unusual layer, but it is meant for only one person's eyes.

He heads straight for Bar.

"I need a shot of Ogden's Fire Whiskey and a song suitable for, er, stripping. And something to play it upon, please."

A portable CD player appears with CD in appears alongside the shot of whiskey. He bolts the whiskey, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and grabs the CD player.

Then he heads back outside.
 
 
23 December 2006 @ 05:32 pm
 
Laini has always considered herself a quick student. After talking to Suzi, and getting the note that said that the idea worked-

She is sitting at a table, leaning back in her chair, feet propped up. On the table is a sign.

Loved One acting Odd? Willing to do Anything to get them Back to Normal? Speak to the 7-Tailed Kitsune.

Of course, while looking rather smug, she is also humming something by Right Said Fred.


(Off delivering gifts- will bbiab)
 
 
Current Mood: smug
Current Music: I'm Too Sexy
 
 
22 December 2006 @ 10:12 pm
 
OOM: Tom decides to try Laini's advice. He tries... and fails.
 
 
22 December 2006 @ 04:08 pm
 
Sable's been around. In and out of the bar, back and forth on business... and somewhere in there he's been talked into doing a comparison taste test between his own nutrient-free Special Thick Whippy Double Chocolate shake and some sort of lowfat frozen concoction of Bar's. With soymilk.

Today he's in a designer velour track suit. He enters while talking on the phone.

"Damn it, Frannie, I don't understand how the hell the stocks can be showing 'slow growth' when I've just spent five and a half hours on a conference call with Soybean International. We're going to have to be proactive on this thing-- hey, are you there? Frannie?" He stares at his phone, then around at the bar as realization dawns. He storms up to the nearest waitrat.

"You. Triple espresso, no sugar. And make it snappy, I'm running behind for my workout."

As the rat scurries off he begins jogging in place, breathing in a regular (though rather unnatural-sounding) rhythm, two fingers on his pulse. The rat returns with his drink and he downs it in two gulps, slamming the cup back onto the tray.

"Put it on my tab," he barks, and jogs toward the door. As he exits the bar onto a busy New York sidewalk, interested patrons can read the word JUICY clearly emblazoned across his rear.

[OOC: I can't be around for tagging today, sadly, but I do hope I can bring tofu-ified Sable back before the plot ends!]
 
 
22 December 2006 @ 11:09 am
 
Angie is bundled up against the cold, huddled in a chair by the fire. She's sipping miso broth from a mug and listening to her subliminal iPod tracks. This one's over-track is a crackling fire, which blends in well with the actual fire.

As soon as she warms up again, it'll be time for her lunchtime workout, but in the meantime, she's botherable.
 
 
22 December 2006 @ 08:03 am
 
For once the new cafe's barista seemed to be...distracted. Busy beyond the pale, near running around in circles as she prepared things for the evening party. She'd been doing so for well over twenty-four hours...

She didn't remember most of it.

She was still cheerful though, still bouncy, and utterly, utterly wired it seemed.

[Tag at will, but responses will be slow]
 
 
21 December 2006 @ 11:30 pm
 
Goth chick minor in the Bar!

With a salad. Being a vegetarian, Sam thrived on salads, bread, and most things that weren't meat. As such, her salad was loaded with chopped up celery, tomatoes, lettuce, spinach, tofu, cucumbers, carrots...

And more tofu.

Without anyone around to warn her for the time being, Sam recieved her salad and went to go sit down, eating the first bite and smiling happily. Veggies!
 
 
21 December 2006 @ 01:08 pm
 
It's anybody's guess as to how Illyria ended up drinking something with tofu in it, given that she doesn't, strictly speaking, have to eat or drink anything. In all likelihood she was simply curious, or even more likely, bored. All the narration knows is that one minute she was walking out the door to go kill things in her world, and the next, she was walking back in, screeching into a cell phone that is suddenly stubbornly refusing to work, and wearing a crimson velour tracksuit that says, appropriately, "GODDESS" across the back of the pants.

Apparently instead of killing things, she'd just come from tae bo.

While still blue, her hair now has subtly shaded highlights and lowlights, and the rest of the blue of her complexion has been toned down into something more, dare we say, subtle?

She's going to kill her mun for this.

But for once, she's not likely to kill anyone else! Violence is so last year.
 
 
21 December 2006 @ 10:05 am
 
Ray's been studying all the texts he can find, looking for curses, spirits, or influences of any kind that match up with the symptoms he's seen so far in the tofu incident. One more write-up on ergot poisoning masquerading as mass religious experience and he is going to hit somebody with an orbital guillotine ray.

He's taking a break at the moment for breakfast. Bar's still kind of unhappy about him insisting on PKE scanning his order every time, so while she's given him cow's milk, the cereal is Boo Berry rather than Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs.

One takes what one can get. Especially when one is wearing Incredible Hulk slippers.
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 09:24 pm
 
Whatever was in his caf was nasty as kriff. However, that is not how Zekka would describe it, as he is too sophisticated to use the word 'kriff' (unless it is in the privacy of his room or with the boys from the syndicate, of course). Indeed, Zekka is very sophisticated tonight. He is sitting upright at the bar, and the datapad in his hands is rather shiny.


Anybody who knows him should be highly disturbed at this point.
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 09:19 pm
 
There is a tall blond man outside, walking away from the Bar with his back towards the lake. He's gone over the land often enough, in depth enough, to know exactly where he needs to stand for this. It's not the kind of thing you do lightly, after all. Not even if you're a God.
( "Stay," said Belar to the sea, raising one hand. His voice wasn't loud, but the sea heard him and stopped. )
He finds the spot and leans back on his heels, hands in his pockets as his mind ranges outward. There are three very specific stones he wants to work with for this. They'll be absolutely perfect as the tops of- Ah, there's the first, and from that it's simplicity itself to find the second and the third.
( It built up, angry and tossing, behind the barrier of that single word, and a great wind tore at us... )
He closes his eyes, hands slipping free. One reaches downwards, fingers spread in a gesture of reassurance- stay there, be still, all is well. The other-

The other hand he stretches out over the land before him, concentrating, remembering.
( "Rise up," Aldur said just as softly to the earth... )
The outstretched hand turns over and lifts, just a fraction.

"Rise up," says Belar, and out beyond the lake the earth begins to heave and swell.

There are mountains rising out there. As a point of courtesy, Belar is restraining the rest of the land from shuddering too much during the process- but this would not be a good time to attempt one's first swim, or anything outdoors requiring much in the way of precise balance.
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 09:18 pm
 
He's got a clear run on a path.

Guppy takes a run-up, leaps onto the waiting skateboard, glides about fifteen feet, wobbles, and falls into a bush.

An irate pig appears behind, grabs the skateboard and snarls after him.

"Oi! Paths don't clean themselves you know. And mind what you're doing to the flora. I finished my gardening duties in super-efficient time and now you've wrecked my carefully prepared schedule. And this is confiscated."

Guppy picks leaves out of his hair and stares after the pig.

"Sorry! Um... can I have the skateboard back? It's not mine."

Snowball growls, throws the skateboard in the lake and gets to work on the path.

"If you want to apologise, doctor, you can go and get me an Arabian Mocha Sanini coffee and stop wasting my time."

Guppy rolls his eyes, fetches the pig a coffee then goes over to the lake to poke in it for the skateboard with a stick.
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 08:47 pm
 
Pre-Milliways: The situation deteriorates in the House of Arch.

Tom, bleary-eyed and extremely grumpy, stumbles into the bar through the House of Arch painting. He gets a scotch - a double - and then happens to see the signs regarding the Curse of the Tofu.

"Oh, bloody buggering fuck," he exclaims to no one in particular. "What the ruddy hell is tofu?"

He stalks up and down before the bulletin board, looking for answers and finding none.

"I need a laptop."

Fucking Miliways...
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 05:14 pm
 
There's a sleek-haired, neatly-dressed professional-looking young woman sitting neatly at a table, vanilla soy latte and tiny black cell phone within easy reach. She's poring over an issue of Vogue, engrossed.

There's a party in the works, apparently, and the insurance industry is all about who you know. And her wardrobe here is disgraceful. It might as well belong to someone else completely. Ridiculous. You've got to look right if you want to get anywhere.

One pointy shoe keeps tapping impatiently. Vogue is so passé these days.
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 03:25 pm
 
It's fashion, nowadays, for young urban professionals to claim a table in a bar for oneself, and spread out one's work on it. And William is always fashionable.

Not that he's actually doing much work. It's not the work one does that matters, it's that one looks like one's doing work. And one thing William Turner is very good at, it's making things look good.

Which is why, as he leans back against the chair back, with his polished black shoes on the table, holding his Palm Pilot and stylo like an inspired (and very prolific) poet, he makes sure never ever to show his expensive suit at anything but the best angle.

Not to mention his gorgeous hair. Few people can pull off a cut like that, I can tell you.
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 03:00 pm
 
Matt Parkman in bar proper doing one of the things that LA people (and well, yuppy people) do on a regular basis.

So he's got O-cha aGAri (Green Tea) with a bunch of other stuff that he can't pronounce. The important thing? The really important thing? Is that his plate is color coordinated. Yes. It's white and green.

And he's happily chattering on his cellular phone.

You could tell him to be quiet. Or comment on how awesome his lunch is.
 
 
20 December 2006 @ 12:50 pm
 
The man who walks in -- no, strides in, moving with confidence and self-assurance -- looks much, much different from the man who came in last night. It's amazing what couture can manage. In addition to much more upscale attire (names such as Armani, Cardin, and Bruno Magli come to mind for the observant), his hair has been properly styled, complete with product and arranged with artfully careless perfection. There's not a bead or a braid in sight.

Jack seems much more pleased with life today as he strolls up to Bar and says, "Darling, it's been too long. You know what I like, don't you? Venti, triple-shot, organic soy, extra-hot latte, and of course I know you won't forget the rum."

The drink appears instantly, and he runs a casual hand down the wood, almost absently, as he picks it up. "Merci. Be a dear, would you, and give me the latest journals? The Times -- Financial, New York, and London all three, I suppose, plus the Wall Street Journal and the Economist. I know the holidays are coming, but--"

Here there's a bit of a smirk.

"--business never stops. Especially in trade, and you know I'm not one to miss the opportune moment."

He takes the papers as well and settles at the nearest table, then begins to read the shipping news.