[OOC: apologies for long absence]

[watch-wait.livejournal.com]

Bartleby wanders in, stretching and yawning a ittle. He looks sleep-fuzzed, and his movements behind the bar are fairly automatic. "Anyone want anything?"

(no subject)

[gil-whimple.livejournal.com]

It was usually noisy at night and Gil had got used to curling up small and covering his ears when he tried to get to sleep. Usually it worked and the explosions, screams and raucous laughter didn't disturb him. But tonight the soft sounds from the corridor outside his room and the anxious murmur of voices roused him. He lay blinking in the darkness for a moment or two, ears straining, then got up and went to the door.

He opened it and stepped outside then trotted along to the room from which the noises were coming - Bernard's room. He paused - Tonk's voice, oh dear she sounded upset. Oh, and Mr Crowley and Mr Aziraphale too. Gil covered his mouth with his hand. The last time something like this had happened Sirius had been hurt so badly he had gone away. Gil raised his other hand to knock on the door then a little voice pointed out that there was nothing he could do that two angels and an Auror couldn't do much better.

He sighed and went into the kitchen. The kettle had been boiled - tea was on the counter top. Gil put it away then refilled the kettle and set it on the hob to boil again. Then he went through into the bar to try to find out what had happened.

(no subject)

[pjpettigrew.livejournal.com]

Peter enters from the House of Arch, crystal case in hand. Tonight he's all dressed in black, and not stylish black or casual black, but the formal black suit that one would wear to a funeral. That's not far from the truth; by Peter's reckoning, it's 31 October 1996. Fifteen years since his treason. Fifteen years since James and Lily died. It may not be the usual thing to wear mourning for one's victims, but Peter hasn't even thought about that.

He is more than a little stunned to see so many people in costume. "Adults dressing up for Halloween?" he mutters in a startled voice, and shakes his head. Even in his better memories, Halloween has more to do with feasts and pumpkin juice and the occasional ghost story. Costumes...not so much.

He goes over to the bar and requests a good strong drink. The bar--which, mercifully, does not alter his clothing--obliges with three: a mixed drink consisting of Scotch, tawny port, dry vermouth and bitters; a cocktail made of light rum, gin, triple sec and anisette and a shake made of Cointreau, Bailey's Irish cream, Irish whiskey and milk. Peter looks at the three, shrugs and tastes the first. It's pretty good.

The name of the drinks--though Peter doesn't know this--are James the Second Goes First, White Lily and Harry Boy.

*in which milli-time is seriously abused*

[i_vanquish_evil]

Van Helsing enters and approaches the bar to order a drink only to glance into a mirror and find himself covered from head to toe in sleek, black fur; several feet taller than usual; having grown a snout and dangerously sharp teeth and claws. Feral eyes glare into the mirror, then at the bar.

"Not remotely amusing. I don't suppose there's a chance I can talk you into changing this?" he growls at the bar.

A dog biscuit appears on the bar with the word "No" stamped into it.

"Didn't think so."

He's sure it probably looks rather strange, but he settles against a barstool as best he can and leans against the bar. He snorts and growls... not loving the bar's particular sense of humor this evening.

(no subject)

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Sitting at his table, with his family around him, Bernard blinks at Fleur, his brow furrowed, then he looks at Tonks. His face slowly pales, and he looks back at Fleur. He starts to speak and stops suddenly, clutching his hand*

Ow.

*Almost too fast to see, the words Beware the Walking Dead begin to race across his skin, in cuts just deep enough to do more than sting.

Then they go deeper.

He doesn't even have time to turn back to Fleur before he begins to scream.*

(no subject)

[moroccofor1year.livejournal.com]

*Penny wanders down, she is suddenly in a little green two piece bikini. There is stuff painted all over her body. Including writing encircling her waist 'welcome to Beautiful Downtown Burbank". and sock-it-to-me written somewhere on her. The most shocking think is her hair is now straight and short. She looks down at her painted half nakedness and just shrugs. Then she dances her way to the bar and sits*

(no subject)

[v_knidh8er]

*This isn't right. He knows deep in his bones that this just isn't right. He's never felt so naked. Not even during the quarentine and phyisical. Never has he felt so violated. So abused. So dirty.
I mean, Blue?
That's just not natural.


Defeated he makes his way towards an open barstool.
He tries very hard to not think about the hair loss. It's really just insult to injury*

(no subject)

[faithful-slayer.livejournal.com]

*Faith strides into the bar, looking very annoyed. She is dressed in an orange, black and white cheerleading costume, her hair is pinned up in a bun, and for some reason she's suddenly wearing pompoms. Needless to say, this is not a fashion statement she would have made without help.*

(no subject)

[ghdorr-phd.livejournal.com]

*With a rose in one hand and a room key in the other, Dorr makes his way up the stairs in search of a room. He pauses momentarily at the sound of a man screaming, but he sees the large group gathered around the vocalist in question... and, frankly, he is a little numb to strange things after this night. He resumes his ascent and disappears up the stairs.*

(no subject)

[mos-exuro.livejournal.com]

St. John walks down from the rooms upstairs; dressed in a dreary colour pallet of grays and blacks – he wears a distinctly sour expression as he shuffles towards the bar, palming the silver zippo in his right hand.

Obviously, the boy is too impatient to check to see if anyone is on bar duty, and he speaks directly to it himself: ordering a coffee that comes with three sugars and two chocolate ring-dings. Breakfast of champions? Indeed.

He settles down at his nook in the bar; putting his backpack by his feet. He’s gonna be there for some time - the unfiltered Lucky Strikes come out, and he lights his first in a long line of tonights cigarettes.

(no subject)

[redeemed-one.livejournal.com]

Anakin is in an absolute panic. Bernard is hurt, and no one can stop it. There's no explain, except...wait, the Bar. It must be the Bar.

With that thought, he lifts everyone within two feet of the bar off the floor and moves them as far away as he can. It's the only solution.

(no subject)

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He enters the bar, and then frowns.

What is with the red scarf across his lower face? And the black trenchcoat? And what in the world are these things? Where's his sword?((OOC: These things=Cross-pull pistols))

There are several moments of stepping back into the hall: his clothing.
Into the bar: strange clothing.
Hall: Normal.
Bar: Weird.
Repeat.

Eventually the need for food outweighs the strange, strange garb and dressed as The Shadow he heads for the bar.

*Staff quarters*

[clumsy_auror]

*The small group settles into the room, which suddenly appears to be much larger than it was, previously. Fleur guides Bernard onto the bed and settles in beside him, hovering silently; the rest of them seat themselves tiredly in chairs that appear from nowhere*

Breakfast at Milliways

[go-between.livejournal.com]

Richard drags down from his room, rubs his eyes, and ties on his apron.

"What'll it-..."

He sees the inscription on the Bar.

"What the FUCK!?!"

(no subject)

[owned-by-zot.livejournal.com]

Kestrel enters the bar again.

She's still essentially clueless as to the nature of the bar.

Perhaps by the end of the evening, she will learn.

She is dressed as a cat.

She knew about that.

She wasn't particularly expecting to be turned into the twin of her cat, Zot.

However, that's gonna happen about five minutes after she enters...

(no subject)

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

*Aziraphael walks into the bar, hesitating at the door when he sees all the weird and wonderful costumes on show. More weird and wonderful than usual, that is*

Aah. All Hallows, of course.

*he walks over to the bar and orders an apple martini, and along with his drink there appears a white bonnet. He looks at it dubiously for a moment, then shrugs. If you can't beat them... as he walks over to join Crowley, his clothing starts to change. And... er... shift*

(no subject)

[aj_crawley]

*Crowley wanders down the stairs and into the bar, grinning to himself. When he goes to pick up his drink, alongside the glass of Atlantean, there appears a soft leather mask, devil horns and all. It looks almost like an old Carnevale mask, if rather more understated. Crowley stares curiously at it for a moment before checking the date on his wristwatch. He snorts at what he sees, and rolling his eyes fondly at the bar, he ties the mask on with a grin. As he wanders over to sit with Bernard, Crowley's clothes begin to flicker and change - frock coat, breeches, stockinged calves, buckled shoes - and his hair grows longer, tying itself in a black-ribboned ponytail at the nape of his neck. By the time he gets there, he looks for all the world like an eighteenth century Venetian nobleman*

Bar Resumes Normal Operation

[big-b-wolf.livejournal.com]

*Bigby searches the area thoroughly, but turns up nothing. Beyond the graffiti itself, there are no clues. He combs the area a few times, but eventually lets it go.*

Anakin, there's nothing. They've come, done it and gone. I don't think they'll be coming back for more.

This crime scene has nothing that needs preserving.

(no subject)

[controlsthedeck.livejournal.com]

*Fate appears at the bar and orders a highly green drink, sitting and stirring it languidly, dark eyes scanning the bar. He has a slight smile on his face*

(no subject)

[theprettiestone.livejournal.com]

After breakfast (and anything that may have happened therein), Alex is sitting at a table, sipping from a chalice of wine.

(no subject)

[finalmarauder.livejournal.com]

A tall man walks into the bar. Tall, but hunched slightly, as if apologising for his height, attempting to hide it. He has a set of scars across his face, and he looks old before his time; as though he's seen far more than he should have.

He walks over to the bar, wondering quite how to order, but before he can say anything a mask appears by his left hand. He turns it over, curiously, then pales slightly, taking a step back.

It's black and simple, a half-mask with ears and a muzzle- the face of a black dog.

A moment of stillness, then he turns away, leaving the mask where it lies on the bar. He scans the room, looking for a familiar flash of pink, unsuccessfully.

(no subject)

[jcrichton.livejournal.com]

In an attempt by Crichton-mun to viciously get songs stuck in other mun's heads, Crichton comes down the stairs in a very chipper mood. He seems to be humming the "Istanbul is Constantinople" song as he heads up to the bar.

(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

[OOC: Post-Milliways]

(no subject)

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

*Anthy heads back downstairs for breakfast, and finds herself once again dressed as a ro-bot whore. She glitters sadly. Chuchu falls from the ceiling onto her head and attempts to eat her hair.*

(no subject)

[sir-apropos.livejournal.com]

Apropos, bleary eyed, makes his way down from his room, his staff thumping noisily on the steps in his stupor. It's only when it makes it to the bar that he realizes that his leg movement is restricted by...a dress. A....familiar sort of dress. This is...not what he was wearing when he got dressed this morning, no matter how sleepy he was. His brain attempts in implode over it, before he gives a tired sigh and stares upward.

"This...is not funny."

(no subject)

[slayeranne.livejournal.com]

The door opens and Buffy pops into existance on the other side, wandering through and toward the bar, looking around briefly to see if the people she talked to the other day are around. Her eyebrows raise at the costumes and such but she just shrugs it off. Having only been here once, it doesn't really seem all that much more odd that last time. Spotting the Specials board, she quickly figures it out. Must be Halloween here, though it's May back home.

Then she sits down at the bar.

Darkness starts spreading over her skin, completely changing her race and her features. Her jeans and top turn into gauzy rags. And her face is covered in a white mud-mask, with a black stripe over her eyes.

Yep, she's turned into the First Slayer. And she's not really amused. For some reason, the world just keeps trying to drive a point home that she's already gotten.

She sighs slightly and gives in to the festivities, addressing the bar.

"Strawberry shake please."

She waits expectantly. Finally, the bar materializes a shake that happens to be red. A bit too red. She tastes it suspicious, then spits it out again.

"Ugh. Blood shake."

(no subject)

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He comes back down. Again, he is The Shadow, and grumpy. So very grumpy.

"Thierik."

He sighs it, and wanders over to pat the bar and request ale.

(no subject)

[empath-wiggin.livejournal.com]

Yawning a bit, Val walks into the bar, but stops cold in her tracks. Her entire look has changed. Instead of her usual dark blonde braid, she has two dark brown buns on the side of her head. Her dress is long and white, with a belt carrying some sort of gun at the side. Picking it up, she pokes at it. Nothing happens, nothing at all. Wrinkling her nose, she blinks a moment. Wait. Wait. Running over to a mirror, she -stares-. "Oh, my holy frell, this is -so- not funny, bar. So beyond not funny." Siging, she walks over to the bar and pets her, staring at the words carved in her. "Oh, my poor baby. I'm sorry. I guess things are allowed to be wonky." Sighing, she leans back against the bar, and scans the room.

[OOC: Yes, folks, you got it right. Valentine is indistinguishable from Princess Leia. Have fun with this.]

(no subject)

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie enters from the staff quarters only half in-costume but Bar, in her infinite puckish wisdom, corrects that directly.

Especially the feet.

(no subject)

[young_tmriddle]

*It being Hallowe'en, and Door and Ingress having never tasted pumpkin juice, Tom walks into the bar to fetch her some...

All of a sudden, he's wearing a suit. A fine, tailored suit. More to the point, a fine, tailored, Muggle suit. If he knew what an Armani suit was, he'd know that that's what he was wearing. In his hand is a black leather briefcase and he can't feel his wand anywhere.*

What the bloody, buggering hell?

*He looks around and sees other people in odd get ups. Whilst Hallowe'en wasn't a dress up holiday for him, he vaguely recalls that it was so in places like America.*

What the hell am I supposed to be then?

*He places the briefcase on a table and opens it. Inside are typed documents with wearying rows of what would seem to be financial data. Also present are papers with letterhead which reads Tom M. Riddle, Corporate Executive Officer.*

Very funny, Bar. A Muggle businessman.

*He stands up straighter, liking the feel of the fine wool fabric against his skin. He grudgingly admits-*

I like the suit, though.

*Then he looks at who is staffing the bar and becomes extremely, extremely confused. He hurries over.*

(no subject)

[officeboy.livejournal.com]

Darling walk into a bar. You'd think he'd have ducked. No. Anyway, he walks into The Bar, thus not incuring any kind of head wound. Or so you'd think. Like everyone else who's become a ictim to the sense of humor or sheer evil of their costmes, Darling is victimized too. He is now Captain Blackadder. This produces a very quiet, but very long stream of obsenities and a sulk. Although, he will admit, he does have a nicer hat.

Trick or Treat!

[go-between.livejournal.com]

Richard came down from the staff quarters for supper and stumbled as his perspective rapidly took a turn. He was at least 8 centimeters shorter, and was now wearing knee-high leather boots and stylishly layered old scraps of lace and velvet.

"What on earth is this!?!"

Door's voice came out of his mouth.

"Ohgodno! Please, Bar, NO!"

(no subject)

[anya-after.livejournal.com]

*Anya comes downstairs, having been missing for a while. She's been keeping busy with Anya-type things, like plans to make money and what to do with her afterlife.

She notices her feet are clumpier and she seems to be enclosed in... fur. She feels her head.

Bunny ears.*

Damn it. Stupid Halloween.

*She clumps the rest of the way into the bar.*

(no subject)

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe comes down to the bar in stiff new clothes, the ones he got from the bar to wear while he washed the bloodstains out of his old clothes. As he takes a seat at the bar, there is a crackly noise and his clothes change on him--fair game because they're bar property.

The bar is having a rough time lately, and perhaps it's taking it out on him. His pants are brown now, and his shirt is green, with big baggy ribbed sleeves. He's wearing a hat now, although he wasn't when he came down, and it's big. And red.

Joe has been costumed as a rose. He is also wearing the least amused expression any human being could ever have.

He rips off the hat and begins to shred it, meanwhile cursing out the bar in a low, vicious tone.

The bar has been having a rough time lately. It doesn't need this shit. There's a much louder crackly noise and a reverse pop, the sound of something suddenly being a lot smaller than it used to be.

A rose is laying on the bar. It's wearing a miniature cowboy hat and a very tiny poncho, and there are two exceptionally large and sharp thorns at what would be waist hieght if it were human, which it is not.

(no subject)

[lathspell-named.livejournal.com]

Grima stumbles into the bar, looking equal parts harassed and murderous.

He is wearing a frilly blue ballgown. His hair is blonde and in a bun atop his head. He is wearing a tiara.

And on his feet are a pair of glass slippers.

(no subject)

[balletrat]

*Meg was not a Giant Anthropomorphic White Rat when she was upstairs checking on Lochiel. However, as soon as she re-enters the bar, she is, once again, something that closely resembles Angelina Ballerina (not that she would know who Angelina Ballerina was.) She does not seem terribly displeased by this; she sits down at a table and, pulling a pack of cards out of her tutu, begins to try and play 'Solitaire', which she learned last night. It's not terribly successful.*

(no subject)

[big-b-wolf.livejournal.com]

[OOC: Notice to all Security personnel posted in the office.]

(no subject)

[eternal-boy.livejournal.com]

Nick wanders in, enjoying his last day off from work. He feels his clothing crackle and eventually get...heavy. Metal. It's not an unfamiliar feeling...well, partially since its not a style he's used to, but he's worn armor before. However, as he gets a look in a piece of chrome, he shakes his head, part amusement and part wonderment. Oh God...I wonder how LaCroix will take *this*?

He takes a look at the board notices, pets the bar, and sits down on a stool.

*asleep*

[i_vanquish_evil]

Van Helsing!wolf has crawled over to the corner near where Connor and Kronos are drinking and lays down to try to sleep, one eye still open and focused on the happenings in the bar.

(no subject)

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fisshes/]

Gollum wanders into the bar and, somehow, fails to notice that he has been turned into Mr. Potato Head.

(no subject)

[sherlockdoyle.livejournal.com]

Holmes walks into the bar, wrapping his coat a bit more tightly around himself. He'd never heard of this place, Milliway's, but it appeared to be interesting and would certainly be a break from his usual schedule. Indeed, he was normally a man of habit, but there is something compelling about this place.

He stands back, half in shadow, watching the others in the bar.

(no subject)

[samael-diablo.livejournal.com]

Lucifer feels the surge of magic as soon as he enters the bar, and immediately conjures a mirror.

There's something that could be a laugh, but not quite. He lifts a hand to negate the spell...

...but then, why not? The irony hits a little too close to home, but he's not one to back out of a challenge like this.

Then he catches sight of Fate and Luck. He looks a little closer. And he does laugh.

Everyone says you're the guy, but I want to be the guy too!

[forgoodorforawesome]

*The moment Strong Bad steps through the door of Milliways, he... changes. His face ripples like a disturbed pond, eyes and mouth growing to take up much more total area. A blue wig appears on top of his wrestling mask head. His red boots become much larger and sprout blue rivets near his knees. His boxing-glove hands become red metallic spheres. In fact, his whole appearance, from the neck down, becomes a little robotic. Seemingly unaware of this, he makes his way over to the bar and bursts into song.* o/` Trick or Treat! Smell my feet! Give me something good to eat! o/`

*His voice is a little higher and a lot scratchier, and his faintly Latino accent seems to have evaporated. Also, he seems to have realized this.* What the crud-for-crud?

*It's about now that anyone watching him notices something else weird: his lip movements don't quite match up with what he's saying.* Hey! Bar! Could you give me a mirror of some sort?

*A hand-held mirror appears on the bar. He picks it up (somehow) and looks at himself in it.* Holy crud! I'm in costume!

*He leaps up onto a barstool and strikes a dramatic pose.* Stinkoman K! 20X6!

*From his new, elevated vantage point, he sees the fringes of the inscription peeking out from under the tray Gil put over it.* What's this? Some sort of a challenge?

*He moves the tray to read the whole thing.* "Beware the Walking Dead"? I say the walking dead had better beware of me! If any walking dead come in here looking for fighting, they're gonna get...

*He leaps dramatically into the air. There's a quiet "ting!" sound as he reaches the apex of the impressive leap. He hangs there for a moment, as if in bullet-time, then comes flying diagonally downward in a flying kick, to land in front of the door.*

...twenty-exty-sixted! And how!

(no subject)

[moroccofor1year.livejournal.com]

*Penny wanders back downstairs still in her 'costume' she was trying to make her hair stop being short, didn't work*

(no subject)

[hua-mulan.livejournal.com]

Mulan is surprised to find herself back at Milliways. She is even more surprised to see her fellow patrons, most of whom look even more bizarre than they did last time.

She wonders why she is dressed as Ping again.

(no subject)

[last_adam]

*Adam wanders into the bar, a distinct disgruntled air about him. His hair is noticeably darker, and he fiddles with the sunglasses that he wears, even inside.*

(no subject)

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He isn't used to the costume. Nor does he approve. But, recognizably himself under The Shadow's hat and clothing Arithon s'Ffalenn heads for the bar. A gentle pat, he'd help if he could, and he orders a mug of ale.

(no subject)

[sackedwatcher.livejournal.com]

Giles opens the door to the bar with great gusto, spreading his arms open wide to show off his poncho.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

(no subject)

[slayeranne.livejournal.com]

Having done whatever it was that she had left to do, Buffy wanders back in. At first, she looks like her normal blonde self, but after a few moments, she turns back in the First Slayer again. Eyeing the Specials board, she decides to avoid the festively named menu items, just going for a normal burger.

(no subject)

[granny-esme.livejournal.com]

Granny comes downstairs, grateful for a chance to stretch her legs. She's been up in her room all day, keeping an eye on a rather ill Lochiel, and although as per usual she'd never admit it, she's quite bored. He's been unconscious most of the time, after all.

Or at any rate, it hasn't been played out where he hasn't been, so we're going to say that at this point, they have not reached a resolution amidst the many arguments that allow for him to have agreed to ask for a healer yet.

She completely fails to notice that her appearance changes slightly.

But then, it is, after all, only a slight change...

She goes to the bar, and is very confused at what she sees.

Not the costumes.

But the destruction?

Well, she'd missed all that.

She looks around to see if she can find a bartender. Or waitress. Something.

(no subject)

[owned-by-zot.livejournal.com]

Kestrel comes downstairs from a certain room, not quite sure how she feels about what happened.

At least he'll probably remember her this time.

And at least, while she's still dressed like a cat, she hasn't been turned into a cat again...

(no subject)

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

[OOC: pre-Milliways]

*he comes downstairs, face drawn and with a lack of bounce to his step. As he steps foot onto the main bar floor, his jeans-and-t-shirt combo abruptly changes to that of a Victorian Gentleman's garb; his hair is suddenly a little longer, poncier, and when he speaks, his voice has a distinctively Irish twang:*

Feckin' 'ell.

*A note appears on the chalkboard: DAVID! - Oscar Wilde: a Victorian Gentleman with biting wit*

Oh, ha ha.

(no subject)

[gil-whimple.livejournal.com]

Gil paused, blinking, as he trotted out of the kitchen. He was still a little pink around the eyes because he, most embarrassingly, teared up every time he thought of poor Bernard. Looking around the rather quiet bar he sighed. The patrons tonight looked quite bizarre. Some had obviously made an effort themselves but others had plainly been dressed much against their will from their disgruntled expressions. Obviously the Bar was still feeling off-colour.

He rather wished that he had made the effort to dress up and enter into the holiday spirit but the kitchen and staff quarters had been so hushed for fear of disturbing Bernard that he hadn't had the heart for it.

He made the rounds of the bar, setting out bowls and baskets of exotic novelty shaped nibbles then went over to the Bar.

"All right, sweetheart?" he asked, patting her uninjured surface gently, then he reached for the chalk and began to write:

Happy Hallowe'en to all our Customers.

Due to the sad events of last night service for food may be a little slower than usual however we will do our best to fulfill your requests.

We would ask your cooperation in not moving the tray on the bar as it is protecting the injured area.

Tonight in honour of the holiday we are pleased to offer you the following dishes ~

Wormburgers

Noseblow Burritos

Werewolf in the Waldorf Salad

Have fun and beware the witching - or wizarding - hour.

Gil sighed and patted the Bar again. "See you later, dear," he said and blinks as Oscar Wilde walks past. "Is that David?" he asks. "Ooh - is that Anthy? Nice look." He sighed and wished that he had bothered then began to walk back towards the kitchen.

As he did so he slowly began to change - his horns grew sharper, his hooves heavier, his hair darker and wilder. Gil stopped at the kitchen door and turned and looked back. His eys glinted with a most un- Gil- like light and he licked his lips then scowled at his apron and ripped it off.

Just for tonight, Gil the satyr intended to have some fun.

(no subject)

[spectral-skin.livejournal.com]

Angelo wanders into the bar, carrying his guitar. As he walks in, his hair color changes, his skin lightens from grey to Caucasian pink, and a black rubber scarf appears over his lower face and chest. Which, beneath the coverings, promptly disappear, replaced by a blaze of psionic energy.

"What... Okay. Why am I Jono?"

This is spoken not with his usual Californian accent, but with the voice of a born Londoner - and telepathically, but broadcast for anyone to hear. He looks around for an explanation.

(no subject)

[i-dream-of-fire.livejournal.com]

[ooc: Post-Milliways from awhile ago]


Warning: Funny picture of Indy

(no subject)

[redeemed-one.livejournal.com]

Anakin enters. He is being a good boy and wearing his bar provided helm and breastplate. He walks up to the Bar and strokes her gently, looking around for one of the staff.

(no subject)

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

[ooc: Out of Milliways: Hallucination One]

(no subject)

[mastercomposer.livejournal.com]

*Ludwig arrives in the bar. He is dressed in a white suit, preposterously decorated, and is carrying a microphone*

I don't know what the hell happened, but I'm up for some serious rock and rolling.

(no subject)

[turnipman.livejournal.com]

*As soon as he walks into the bar, Baldrick looks rather different. He is dressed in an expensive, tailored suit, with a crisp, clean white shirt. His hair is neat and clean, and he smells not of dung, but the finest aftershave in the universe.*

...

OK, whatever's happening, I like it!

(no subject)

[third-wiggin.livejournal.com]

*Ender wanders in. He is suddenly dressed as a sunflower.*

(no subject)

[maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com]

Elaine hasn't been to the bar in days; she's been sneaking down for food and slipping away quickly. Tonight, however, her solitude is finally getting to her.

As Elaine passes the bar, she notices a faint...draft. And her head feels much lighter, somehow. Confused, she looks for a mirror, noticing as she does so that the weight of her hair is...missing.

The bar has, oh-so-helpfully, put a mirror in a convenient place.

Elaine looks at herself. And stares.

How did I get down here in only my chemise? And what is on my feet? Elaine tries to walk in them, but wobbles and has to cling to a table to gain support, and then realizes that when she bends over, people can see all the way down her...

"Oh, dear," she says, blushing from head to toe. Elaine ducks behind a tall potted plant, wondering what madness she is caught in tonight.

In the kitchen.

[la-calice.livejournal.com]

The desire to be on time for her shift wins out over finding clothes that she likes. Utena rushes downstairs, dressed in a white dress that bears a spooky resemblance to Anthy's normal clothes...

Tonight's Menu, she writes on the board.

- Pumpkin Soup
- Pumpkin and Beef Stew
- Pumpkin Tempura
- Pumpkin-and-Chocolate Pie
- other requests

She takes one more look at the costumes people are wearing and flees into the kitchen.

Later
A note written on a napkin, taped to the wall: Am out. Everything is on the sideboard, help yourself. -- Utena

Utena is now in the greenhouse.

Later still
Utena rushes through the kitchen, leaving the food and the note stay where they are. Upstairs, upstairs to bed... Everything smells like it's rotting.

(no subject)

[i_vanquish_evil]

Van Helsing!wolf wakes and stretches his limbs as he gets to his feet - all four of them. He prowls around the bar a bit, looking at the patrons and the costumes, still not particularly loving his own, but resigning himself to the fact that he must wear it for, at least, the remainder of the evening.

(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

*Tonks, looking pale and withdrawn, walks in from the staff quarters; as she crosses the threshold, her appearance shimmers and she is, once again, in her true form. She goes to the bar and orders a cup of tea, sipping it slowly*

(no subject)

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

*Tim walks in from the staff lounge. He's been quiet and unobtrusive lately, and that doesn't really change, except slightly more so. Tim pauses, adjusting to the change in height, and the change in clothing. He reaches up, pulling the hat lower over his eyes. Glances down again.*

Great. I'm part of the trenchcoat brigade.

(no subject)

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[ooc: Post/Out of Milliways Post

And that takes care of Delia for the next three weeks]

(no subject)

[leplusbeau]

*Following not long after Tonks, Fleur enters the bar. She is looks as though she has not slept and her eyes are red rimmed. She feels anything but beautiful. She finishs the last of her tea, kindly left by Crowley, and stops at the bar. She picks up a bottle of a armagnac. She moves over Tonks without a word.*

(no subject)

[morgue-matron.livejournal.com]

Natalie wanders into the bar, Nick having had to work late and LaCroix having disappeared to God-knows-where-and-let's-pray-he-stays-there. She was somewhat bored, somewhat tired since work had been hectic with all the end of the month work compounded with the holiday problems, and she desired contact that had nothing to do with her boyfriend(s?) or dead bodies. Due to her preoccupation, she entirely missed the shrinking of her clothing, the change in her hair and body, and the odd flame that seemed to constantly surround her.

(no subject)

[rebel-falcon.livejournal.com]

Han Solo is deep in discussion, with a certain wookie, over very important things.

Very important things, which aren't really -business- matters, but they are on a break.

Well, that is.

He -was- deep in discussion, with a certain wookie, over very important things; until suddenly he walks out of a Falcon corridor and finds himself somewhere else.

A... bar?

"Well," Han mutters under his breath. "I don't think we're on Coruscant anymore."

[OOC: As a note, Chewwy did -not- make it through with him. He just hasn't noticed yet.]

(no subject)

[sir-h-appleby.livejournal.com]

Sir Humphrey walks into the bar, governmental report in hand. This time, however, he looks a little different.

HEY HEY!

Um. Bernard? Someone? What in the name of Whitehall?

(no subject)

[notyour-broom.livejournal.com]

*Broom is by his beloved Bar, comforting her as best he can; he's been there since she was hurt. though the mun forgot to mention it *cough* He cannot ease her pain; all he can do is be there for her.*

(no subject)

[doc-lecter.livejournal.com]

Hannibal Lecter enters, changed yet again by the bar. He's larger, over six feet, and muscular. This time, the mask on his face is white with sandy-brown/blonde hair, and a large knife is in his hand. He examines the knife and sighs. Blunted. If the bar is going to paint me as a monster, it ought to let me be the monster for the evening, instead of mockeries of them...

He continues to the counter.

The datadog enters...

[2woolongdatadog.livejournal.com]

...heading straight for the Bar.  A traditional witches' hat appears on his head, with appropriately-placed earholes. After giving the Bar a solicitous lick, he barks once, politely.

A box appears, dropping a short distance to the floor with an internal rattle.  The corgi picks it up with some small difficulty, takes it to the nearest empty table (there's a small miracle in itself) and scrambles up onto one of the chairs.  He drops the box onto the tabletop, nudges the lid off and starts removing some of the rattley contents, picking them up delicately in his teeth then placing them on the table.

After a few minutes of hard work, the arrangement to his liking, he sits back and... 'WOOF!  WOOF, WOOF, WOOF, WOOF....'

Once everyone looks over at him, he looks down at the tabletop most pointedly then jumps down.  The particularly curious who might approach would see an open Scrabble box and a set of tiles spelling out:

(no subject)

[eternal-boy.livejournal.com]

Nick wanders back in, his shift finally done. It'd been a long and sad shift, the holiday unfortunately twisted by various unfortunates, but it was over and he wanted to relax. He sees Natalie but decides to leave her be since he didn't want to smother her. Instead, he settles on the other side of the bar, grabs a glass, pulls out a bottle from what is now a toga (well, it was better than the heavy armor) and pours himself a glass.

(no subject)

[balletrat]

*Meg jumps easily down the stairs from the residential part of the bar. Mid-leap, she reforms into an Anthropomorphic White Rat, in tutu. This is becoming habit over these past few days; she twitches her whiskers, grins as much as a rat can, and saunters the rest of the way into a bar.*

Happy Halloween!

[sgt-rock.livejournal.com]

Having finished a number of conversations and drinks and things like that, Detritus walked out of the bar some time ago to do the trollish equivalent of seeing a man about a horse. As he returns through the front door, a faint humming sound can be heard in the air about him. Briefly he becomes the center of a highly focussed dust-and-mud storm. When it subsides, the troll looks... well, still rather trollish really, but he's gone orange and brick-like and fractured in numerous places. The storm somehow deposited blue shorts on him as well, and left him blue-eyed. He blinks, peering down at himself, and extends an arm for examination.

"Wotta revoltin' development dis is," Detritus mutters.

(no subject)

[blue_ajah]

*Moiraine comes downstairs and into the bar, and stops abruptly at noticing the strange attire worn by almost everyone. *

Is it another odd day of celebration, then?

*As she observes, her dress shimmers, and slowly turns from blue to red. She looks at herself in definite surprise, then looks pointedly at the bar, with a hint of pleading in her glance. The dress color does not change back. She sighs.*

Very well. I hope, however, for the sake of certain of those here, that I am not forced to adopt the attitudes of the Red Ajah along with its attire.

*She gets a cup of tea and goes to her usual table.*

(no subject)

[sky-captain.livejournal.com]

Joe Sullivan came downstairs in the clean Oxford shirt and tan trousers he found waiting for him when he woke up.  He's not sure exactly when it is... if that matters much... because he felt like he slept around the clock and then some. As he steps off the last stair-tread, his clothes change -- sleeves lengthen, layers develop, even his hair retreats.  'Bloody...' He throws himself onto the nearest barstool and examines his Chinese robes.  'Very bloody funny!  What's going on, Bar?'  This sarcastic reminder of his six months in one of the foulest prisons in the world was not appreciated.

(no subject)

[lucius-lacroix.livejournal.com]

LaCroix sighs to himself when he sees the tell-tale glow of the bar through the door which should have opened onto the properly dark and gloomy Raven. He had just stepped out for a bite (he hated Halloween for numerous reasons, but the anonymity and freedom it offered him were not part of it) and now here he was, unable to get back in. It was starting to get a little annoying, to say the least. He noticed the vast number of patrons who seemed to be in costume, and groaned. He just hoped no one here would ask him where he got such a "cool vampire costume" from. Mortals....

He stepped into the bar, looking instinctively for Nick, but was distracted when he felt the sudden change in his clothing. He looked down at himself, and then looked up in the well-placed mirror, fighting back the urge to scream.

What a sense of humour the bar seemed to have. The joke, of course, was lost on him, as he was far too concerned with the fact that he was now a cow. He pulled the ears off with a growl, and threw them onto the floor. As he stalked to the bar he almost failed to notice that the ears were suddenly back on his head.

(no subject)

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

* Indy walks casually downstairs, looking round with amusement at the freakishly different crowd frequenting the bar *

* As he approaches his normal stool, a shimmering blue aura suddenly cloaks him. Behind the veil, Indy visibly loses body weight and a few inches of height. He is transformed into the thirteen year old version of himself, garbed in a khaki boy scout uniform complete with a faded yellow neckerchief.

* His fedora is still in place, and it still seems to fit well enough... but under the hat, his hair has sprouted into flowing mousy locks center-parted in the style which was the height of 1912 Utah fashion. His facial scar has been replaced by a larger newly scabbed cut streaking across his juvenile chin. Dirt flecks his cheeks and clothing. He looks down at himself in shock as the aura fades *

What the hell?

* He looks at the customers milling around and realization sinks in. He closes his eyes, cocks his head and smiles at the bar. His hand strays to his belt, but there is no whip or gun belt to rest his thumbs around. He addresses the bar in a higher pitched voice than usual *

Very droll. Now how about a whisky?

* The drink does not appear. He frowns *

Oh for the love of God!

* He sighs and sits down on his stool, brushing absently at the crusted blood on his chin *

Fine! You win! Just give me a root beer.

(no subject)

[mediocresaint.livejournal.com]

It's All Hallow's Eve, and Salieri, returning from thebooooathouse, steps through the door in... well, spirits of a sort.

A helmet appears on his head, and a dark cloak around his shoulders. His reflection in the mirror of the bar startles him. It's the costume from Don Giovanni that had given him his masterplan... and had doomed Mozart.

He's in fine spirits now. "A glass of your best, bar!"

(no subject)

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

For an instant, there is a weight to the air in that general area. Something that almost speaks of the struggle between two insanely powerful, in their own ways, beings having an argument on a level which few things comprehend.

Then the fade in. He is in his own robes; the Bar seems to have decided that antagonizing the being which can decide that it has Bar-like nightmares to torment its inanimate sleep is probably not worth seeing Dream in a costume.

He did, however, have to promise to be appreciative of what it chose for other people.

(no subject)

[mariomustache.livejournal.com]

*after a while of being stuck in the bar Mario had figured out that all he had to do was use his whistle to get out of it. But he was feeling down after he rescuing the princess it was the same old routine so he went done the same tunnel he had the last time.. To get to the odd but Fascinating Bar he had landed at the last time. Only be braced him self for the hard landing but he felt something weird as he went from the tunnel to the bar.

He heard what sounded like rubber bouncing when he landed and he went to talk and all he got was this tongue sticking out. As he looks at him self and Jumps realizing he looked like Yoshi. He shook his head no way could he have turned in to Yoshi. In just the going down the tunnel.. Figuring he just needed a drink he walks to the bar. In that Yoshi walk. As he tries not to stick out his tongue with he talks next time*

Can I have a drink please?

*it came out in a Squeak and high pitched sounds but understandable*

[ooc: the whistles are in Super Mario 3.]

(no subject)

[mogget_cat]

*Yrael slinks into the bar, his white fur once again shifting smoothly to black as he crosses the doorjamb. He insinuates himself among the tables and chairs, looking deeply amused. There are no bloodstains on him left from yesterday; he is impeccably clean, as usual. A slight smile brightens his green eyes.*

(no subject)

[ember_eleven]

Ember enters the bar. She gasps as a ripple runs through her. She places her hands on the nearest table to catch her balance. Except... they don't look like her hands.