(no subject)

[itakesouls.livejournal.com]

*George address the bar at large*

Umm, excuse me! Is there anyone in here that can help quickly heal some bruises? It would be greatly appreciated!

(no subject)

[bloodandsouls.livejournal.com]

[OOC: Err... Continuing from here - yes, it's still the same conversation... but I hope to wrap it up tonight...]

*Dizzy ponders the conversation thus far and nods*

Okay, I can understand that. I think. But here's my question. How do you deal with knowing that you died, knowing that to the people in your life, you're gone? Isn't that... I dunno, hard to deal with?

[ooc2: no rush on this, take your time]

(no subject)

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Drained of all energy, Bernard carefully carries the sniffling Ingress into the nearest booth, with a mug of jasmine tea. Running after Ingress was more tiring than he thought it would be. He makes a mental note to speak to Mat about Ingress's family situation.*

*Ingress is still upset, and Bernard rubs her back as she sniffles against his chest. He doesn't really know what he's saying, but it seems like the tone is the most important thing in situations like these.*

Calm down. It's ok, sweetheart. Just relax for a minute. You've had a long night.

Moving things upstairs

[fairest1.livejournal.com]

*Snow, in labour, is helped up the stairs by Fleur, Liz and Tonks*

My room's just over there. Ah! *winces as another contraction hits*

(no subject)

[iopenthings]

*Door comes rushing in, Tom close on her heels. Door is out of breath and close to tears. Tom looks frantic, his forehead creased with guilt. Both are very pale.*

Has anyone seen...

*Door suddenly spots Ingress asleep on Bernard's shoulder and hurries over to the booth.

(no subject)

[girl-of-gray.livejournal.com]

[OOC: Post-Milliways]

(no subject)

[bloodandsouls.livejournal.com]

*Before heading up to her room, Dizzy stops at the bar.*

Excuse me, do you have anything that might make these bruises heal faster? *She holds up her arms, now covered with multicolored bruises.*

*The bar doesn't react, of course, but a small dark blue bottle appears on the bar.*

Thank you! *Diz takes the bottle and heads upstairs.*

[OOC: post-Milliways entry, timeline-wise being... yesterday, I think. Took us three nights, but we played the scene out. W00t!]

(no subject)

[muddypetticoats.livejournal.com]

*After putting away the items used in the delivery of Snow's twins, Liz washes thoroughly at a large work sink in the back room. Once clean, she wearily trudges back into the main room of the bar, ordering a tea laced with brandy from the bar proper. She takes her cup over to the table where her notebook lay forgotten, and sits down. She rests her face in her hands for a moment, rubbing lightly at her forehead.*

(no subject)

[prettyinpinkand.livejournal.com]

From the corner, Barbie screams as loud as she possibly can, 'HELP!<

(no subject)

[capt_angie]

*angie stands from where she's is talking to Snow White and looks around the bar, her face is pale and she's shaking slightly*

IS THERE A DOCTOR AROUND HERE ANYWHERE? OR ANY ONE WITH ANY MEDICAL EXPERIENCE AT ALL?

(no subject)

[fairest1.livejournal.com]

OOC: Post-Milliways entry

As posted by zombie snow.

(no subject)

[torollthedice.livejournal.com]

*When Mat has finished resharpening his knife to his satisfaction, he realizes that there are still pieces of Barbie scattered around the floor. Much as he'd like to leave them there, it would be disrespectful to the management to make them clean up the detritus.

With a sigh, he heaves himself up, and picks up the four pieces of Barbie. He carries them to the bar, and dumps them in an unceremonious heap. As an afterthought, he requests a pen and paper from the bar, and scribbles a quick message. He leans the sign - TOOTHPICKS: TAKE ONE - against the pieces of Barbie's mangled body, and saunters up to his room, whistling.*

(no subject)

[ookookook.livejournal.com]

*peers around the bar sadly, carrying the same book as yesterday* Ook?

*bangs on bar* Ook!

*whiskey appears* Ook.

[OOC: Um. Hi. I saw someone mentioned something about The Librarian turning up? Er, yeah.]

(no subject)

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*Thom is sitting at the bar and disemboweling a disposable camera. He pauses every few minutes to request more toothpicks from the bar, which he's been turning into tools, but which he keeps losing.

He mutters, scratching his head* Mithros. I've never seen anything like this.

(no subject)

[wine-women-song.livejournal.com]

*Dionysus, back from his random wanderings, enters the front door of the bar, taking in the patrons. He spies the regulars and the new folks, feeling at home in this place away from places. It's become a new sort of home to him, away from all the bustle of the modern world, a place where he finally feels back in touch with people.*

*He walks up to the bar and sits down, taking a sip from his ever-present silver flask.*

(no subject)

[arrakis-witch.livejournal.com]

*Once again, the slender young woman slips into the bar. Her eyes are glowing violent blue. She seems calm, until you look closer and realize that her shoulders are stiff with unease. She glances left and right, takes a deep breath, and walks to the bar.*

Spice.

(no subject)

[pubdog.livejournal.com]

Good evening all and one, and welcome to Milliways Bar's happy hour.

I am the management and head barman, Sirius Black, and I'll be serving you this evening along with Bernard, Gil, and Bacchus. We do accept tips. Some of us handle explosives. The two may be inversely related.

The specials tonight, as there seems to be a flu going round *glances back towards staff quarters* are cream of chicken soup, hot toddies, and other comfort foods. Of course the usual pub food is available too, but if you've never tasted Gil's soup, my friends, you have not lived.

Please be reminded that the management strongly discourages violence, murder, and other professional activities in the bar proper.

*leans back into the kitchen* Gil, Kassandra's very eager to try the soup -- almost ready?

*leans out again*

What can I get for you all? First round's on the house to commemorate the first birth at Milliways. Congratulations, Snow!

(no subject)

[young_tmriddle]

OOC: Pre Milliways entry: Tom, Door, and Ingress in London Below (no smut for a change!)

(no subject)

[weallscream.livejournal.com]

*Slumps in a booth, the dark circles under his eyes darker than usual. His train set is packed (haphazardly, in all honesty) and beneath the bar. Each piece has got the name "PAUL" (and occasionally "PUAL") scratched possessively on it. Paul has what can only be classified as a hangover.*

(no subject)

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

*He settles into his preferred seat. As always the concept of actually entering via a standard method are ignored. So no doors, paintings, or holes in the roof are utilized.*

(no subject)

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine comes downstairs. As usual, her outward appearance is that of serene calm, but this evening there is an air of something else... something undefined.*

*She goes to the bar and asks for spiced wine, bread and cheese, and takes these things to a booth, where she sits, apparently deep in thought.*

(no subject)

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

*Anthy waters the roses. Their thorns are sharper than usual, and their petals are poisonously bright. She does not notice when Chuchu falls in the fountain and chus piteously.*

(no subject)

[hard-core-dick.livejournal.com]

*Jamee wanders into the bar from the area of the staff quarters, holding her hand close to her chest, but walking much more comfortably. She settles herself at the bar, a few stools down from Billy, and rests her hand gently on the bar.*

Gimme some more of that Schlivovitz.

(no subject)

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Tim slips through the front door, his brow furrowed, kicking at the floor as he mopes towards the bar. His grey mood is evident in the very posture of his body, the droop to his face....and oh yes, the grey cloud which hovers above his head, casting everything he sees in a dim light. No rain, no lightning, and he probably doesn't even know its there, but for now it obediantly follows his emotional dictates.*

(no subject)

[-mr-morden-.livejournal.com]

*Morden approaches the bar and pulls a handful of credits out of his pocket. As he glances down at the coins, he looks momentarily unsettled, but drops some on the bar and asks for coffee. It's a relief when the coins disappear, and he shakes off the sudden mood and sits at the bar, sipping coffee and people-watching.*

(no subject)

[leplusbeau]

*Fleur sways rather tiredly into the bar and plops rather gracelessly down in front of the bar.*

(no subject)

[jcrichton.livejournal.com]

Crichton comes down the stairs. Scanning the room, he doesn't see a familiar face that had been there for some time. "Has anybody seen Chiana?" he asks the room in general.

(no subject)

[bobby-gadling.livejournal.com]

*wanders in, still wearing the now-battered fedora. He smells slightly of rosemary and looks tired but satisfied.*

I could murder a Priest's Collar.

(no subject)

[iopenthings]

*Door enters, looking worn out but happy, and heads to the bar, glancing around for familiar faces.*

(no subject)

[musical-muse.livejournal.com]

*Lady Tere settles in the middle of the bar and a web strung with millions of tiny spheres appears in her lap. She weaves her fingers in and out of the strands, coaxing forth music*

(no subject)

[samael-diablo.livejournal.com]

*Lucifer enters with barely a glance for the rest of the room's occupants, heading straight for the bar*

*his hand flicks once and a pencil appears, weaving absently over and under his fingers as he sits and hums thoughtfully*

A glass of the house red, I think.

(no subject)

[muddypetticoats.livejournal.com]

*Elizabeth enters through the portrait, not as exhausted as when she had left the previous night, but still visibly tired. Once again, she totes her notebook and pen with her. Rather than moving to the bar proper, she forgoes a drink for the moment, and instead crosses directly to her now-accustomed table. She sits, stifling a yawn with one hand.

She pulls her notebook before her, but does not open it. Instead, she simply sits back and observes the cover. For the past two nights, she has attempted to write only to be distracted from her task, and she does not expect tonight to be any different. Idly, she wonders if her notebook serves as some magical amulet that draws people to her.*

Or perhaps it is the ink...

(no subject)

[balletrat]

*Meg, depressed, sits at the bar, occasionally staring mournfully at the coffee stains on her tutu. From time to time she kicks her chair moodily.*

Bar?

I need more coffee.

Now.