Hyde & Go Seek

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

So it was Col. Mustard, in the ballroom, with a candlestick.

Or was it Hyde, at the bar, with a cherry pop?

And a clean-looking Deep Purple tour shirt from '73 instead of his Doors shirt.

He's sitting there with his feet up on the adjacent stool, looking amazingly pensive.

It must mean something.

(no subject)

[macleod_connor]

Connor is sitting on the stairs - he's not in the way; he's just sitting there, a bit of a wry grin on his face. Hey, it's nearing Christmas, so what that he's done no shopping, he's not in the middle of New York traffic or anything else and no one here is trying to remove his head - he's all good. Plus, he has a friendly bottle of Scotch nearby that he uses to refill the glass in his hand, while he watches the people in the bar go about their meanderings.










[ooc: yeah, a rather late entrance post for him, as mun is off to bed, however, mun is not opposed to slow-timing if anyone wants to talk to Connor - he just won't 'officially' respond until tomorrow.]

(no subject)

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

Asar-Suti had been in the bar, just not very consicuously. For the last hours, he'd been in the kitchen with Gil and tasted candy canes and strange new ideas. A gallon of espresso, and a new black cat had come before, and candy canes again with a blue-eyed woman.

Asar-Suti likes the holiday season, and is even proud of his lights on the Christmas tree.

[[OOC: Out Of Milliways post. He does them again. Oh dear.]]

(no subject)

[qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com]

Darien wanders in...and while he's looked guilty before, he looks...especially guilty right now. Guilty and...hurt? He strides in and looks like he wants to find certain people. When he doesn't find them, he sits down at the bar. A Corona is there in a few seconds and he thanks the waitrat.

(no subject)

[sign-seeker.livejournal.com]

*Will enters, and looks around for friendly faces*

(no subject)

[hal9000a.livejournal.com]

The espresso machine has been silent for nearly two weeks, the bright light of its single eye dimmed through what could only have been an act of sabotage. Needless to say, what coffee is still available has been singularly awful.

HAL has dreamed.

There, deep in the forest, a round white orb rests half buried in the earth. It is a thing forgotten. One of several, perhaps. There is the crackle of static, and the view fades.

There is a buzz and more static. The orb is now huge. A bright star so close that it can be touched. Strength builds to a spring and suddenly the forest zips by. Alight upon that stone to leap again. Touch the tree and cling. View a world tipped on its side, the new star left far behind.

In the distance, HAL has dreamed.

(no subject)

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

[ooc: In Bernard's Room]

(no subject)

[owned-by-zot.livejournal.com]

[ooc: after this]

Kestrel is curled up in a ball, asleep, on the floor, in the back, near the laundry room and the eternally elusive bathrooms.

Considering the nature of said bathrooms, it is not entirely likely anyone will see her.

(no subject)

[empath-wiggin.livejournal.com]

[OOM: Post this, Val goes back to her tent]

(no subject)

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

* With one last absent scratch of his cheek, he gets up off his stool and adjusts his tie. Tired but satisfied, having established who the giftor was, he looks down at himself and smiles *

At least I don't look like a bum now...

* He's quite pleased with himself, new clobber and also some restraint with the wine. Perhaps this is a new leaf. Nodding to himself happily, he ascends the stairs and heads for his bedroom *

(no subject)

[notsoyoung.livejournal.com]

[OOC: Thought We'd Be On Fire Together]

David makes his way down the stairs from the staff quarters, eyes closed, making his way around the bar by memory more than anything, and when he opens them upon reaching the outdoors, there are tears obscuring his vision and he sits on the edge of the lake, and he cries silently.

[OOC: this is just a thread for plot reasons. Please do not post responses here?]

Breakfast at Milliways

[go-between.livejournal.com]

Richard wanders downstairs, ties on his apron and steps behind the bar. Anaesthesia comes running down after him and yowls to be fed. He minces up some prawns and brown rice for her, washes his hands, and takes his post.

"What'll it be?"

(no subject)

[jcrichton.livejournal.com]

Crichton's in the bar again, having still not yet run into his other self. He's probably even forgotten all about it.

(no subject)

[rebelheartalien.livejournal.com]

[OOC: Out of Milliways. Michael and Isabel in the office, Tuesday]

(no subject)

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie sits at the piano, chin on his hand, playing little two-note chords with the other.

[ooc: mun has work to do yay! so will be in and out boo!]

(no subject)

[maydaybrat.livejournal.com]

Mordred comes down the stairs with the slow movements of one who is very afraid of moving their head too much. Possibly he should be in bed, and the fact that he isn't says something about Mordred's personality.

He finds his normal table and crawls onto a chair, resting his head in his hands. Maybe coming down into a bar with a hangover wasn't the smartest of ideas...

Posted on the bulletin board

[fairest1.livejournal.com]

*Snow pins a note to the bulletin board. It reads as follows*

Attention all non-Bound patrons:
With the holiday season upon us and Bar still out of order, it is difficult for the Bound to acquire needed materials for gifts and the like. It would be greatly appreciated if those able to could help them out by picking up supplies while in their home worlds. If you are willing to participate, please sign up here with your name, home location, and time period so that those in need know who to contact for assistance.

With many thanks,

Snow White.

*this is followed by a decent-sized form for signup*

(no subject)

[nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com]

Ace, time-traveller and dalek-hunter extrodinaire, is bored. This probably isn't a good thing. There's only so much sitting in the corner booth and reading that she can do, and the one person she she can see in the bar this morning is... busy. She's a good enough reader of body language that she knows not to touch that one with a ten-foot pole. So she sits at the bar and tries to think up something to do that won't get her on the bad side of the law. Currently, she's making schematics for some sort of dalek-blasting gun with nuts from the bar.

(ooc: Mun is not here, please leave a message after the beep.)

(no subject)

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

Asar-Suti comes downstairs, already wearing an overcoat. He walks to the area around the fireplace and looks for the book he left there the other day. He vaguely remembers the tale of the world going wrong because somebody sang off-key on purpose. He looks under the futniture  and even dives his hand into the soft, hungry gap between seat and back of all the soft chairs and the sofa. He comes up with a few pieces of very odd coinage he's never seen, but no book. So he conjures it again: a complicated sign sketched in the air, crackling with purple fire, and there it is: "The Silmarillion".

He talks to one of the rats, and the creature comes back with a thermos flask a few moments later. Asar-Suti asks to be shown how it works, tastes the coffee in it, likes it, and then heads out to the lake, to walk as far as he can, hoping to meet nobody, just to read and think.

[[OOC: Mun is going to be running errands and will then be at work, so responses to any lakeside encounters will happen slowly and occasionally.]]

(no subject)

[macleod_connor]

Connor's still sitting on the stairs where he was last night, only he's exchanged the Scotch glass for a coffee mug. He's not tired, he's just watching the people. He waves to Richard behind the bar.

(no subject)

[mnt_raph]

*Raph makes his way into the bar from the lake area, yawning and stretching as he goes. And the bed head he's sporting? Gravity defying.*

(no subject)

[95-tan.livejournal.com]

Windows 95 is at the bar, and appears to have been there for quite some time, although this time she isn't frozen up. She just appears to be thinking difficult thoughts. So difficult, in fact, that she snags a passing waitrat to supply some alcohol to make the thinking easier.

With a bottle of sake on hand, she continues her thinking, chugging occasionally as her processor hits a particularly difficult conundrum.

(no subject)

[greebo-the-cat.livejournal.com]

Fresh from mauling Xander, Greebo sits on the bar and gazes at Richard, trying to look as if he's quite a cute little kitty really in the hope that he gets fed. It seems he's trying to smile, but it would be better if he had not; the effect is rather disturbing.

(no subject)

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe is in the bar. He has coffe, he has a notebook, he has an annoyed expression. He may or may not have a gun under the poncho. Approach at your own risk. ;)

(no subject)

[alas_alas]

[ooc: I'm celebrating a project being done, so, milli for the next half hour! yay!]

Echo sits up on her table, where she had been laying out. She looks around the bar for anyone she knows.

~ getting ready to go ~

[i_vanquish_evil]

Van Helsing enters the bar, passing Connor who is talking to Raph, and just meandering about, perhaps getting a drink, perhaps sitting at the bar... just - whatever. He'll be heading back to Rome soon, but is gonna chat with a few people in the bar before he goes.

(no subject)

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

*Anthy carries in an armful of red and green roses, with which she begins to decorate the room. Pity she doesn't grow mistletoe, but you know someone's going to handle that.*

(no subject)

[maybeazatarc]

Martouf is sitting at the bar today - just for a change.

CATS enter!

[emperor-cats.livejournal.com]

A man walks into the bar. He is wearing a gigantic purple cape, his hands hidden somewhere inside it. He has a very unusual hair style - it is greenish-turquoise and sticks straight up, a rising above his skull to be a little taller than the rest of his head. The right half of his face is covered in cybernetic implants, so it is with one red eye and his mouth that he conveys a very surprised expression.

He speaks, but no one understands him. A moment later, a robotic voice issues from the general direction of his facial implants.

"What happen?"

[OOC: CATS' mun feels like she is only slightly more aware of what's going on than he is. I've read the rules, have been monitoring this place for about a week or so, and have RP experience, but I invariably feel like a clueless newbie whenever I take the plunge anywhere. ^^' And, no, I don't really have anything specific planned... just CATS' personality bouncing off everyone else's for the moment.]

(no subject)

[is_a_boy.livejournal.com]

---
Blaise comes down into the bar, looking around. He sees one of the rats chewing on a breadstick and walks over. "Excuse me, can you see that these presents make it to their rightful owners?" Jeremy nods his little head. "Thank you very much." Leaving the presents with Jeremy, Blaise heads back upstairs, a small smile on his face.

(no subject)

[maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com]

Elaine comes into the bar. She is a very happy lilymaid today, and she has her sketchbook, pencils and pastels with her. She sits at a table, spreads everything out, and begins to sketch.

She soon has graphite all over her fingers, and also on her nose where she's scratched it.

(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

[ooc: Letter to Crowley]

(no subject)

[stilljustandrew]

[In the Security Office: Andrew has a Talk with Michael.]

(no subject)

[simple-creature.livejournal.com]

*Loki is pulled downstairs by David. He looks around rather nervously*

Let's go sit over there in the corner.

(no subject)

[not_that_spike]

From his seat at the bar, Spike glances twice at the shit hanging over the door to the lake and his eyes narrow.

Great. Just great.

He's working intently on something in his notebook. Or at least working thoughtfully. From time to time he gazes over at the fire like it's going to talk to him, but it never does. He writes and he thinks and he smokes, and when he's done with that he does it all over again, occasionally tapping the pen against his lips.

He looks... determined.

(no subject)

[dead-boddy.livejournal.com]

(Pre-Milliways Screenplay)

He's an average-sized man with black, slicked-back hair, black shirt, jacket and slacks. He's got shiny black shoes with spats. In his hand is a fake alligator-skin briefcase. A smug smirk is on his lips as he walks through the front door.

On seeing Milliways, he stops, the smug look gone.

His voice is soft and velvety. "What the heck is goin' on around here?" He looks around, "Hey Wadsworth! Where are you? This isn't funny."

(no subject)

[aj_crawley]

[OOC: Letter to Tonks]

[OOC: Out-of-Milliways Entry]

(no subject)

[empath-wiggin.livejournal.com]

Valentine bops into the bar, pulling her coat off, and hanging it on the (real) coat tree which seems to have placed itself by the lake door. To her great surprise, she looks up above a corner of the bar, and sees it. She blinks for a few moments, then stands on a chair. Yep. That's what she thinks it is. Mistletoe. In. The. Bar. Scurrying away from it for the moment, she sits at the other end of the bar, and examines it, standing again, and getting the mug from yesterday, complete with tea, and her tray, watching it.

(no subject)

[young_tmriddle]

( OOC: Owl to Moiraine from earlier this afternoon )

(no subject)

[ms-w-harker.livejournal.com]

(Outfit 4)

She glides down the stairs, hair down.

(no subject)

[balletrat]

*Meg wanders downstairs and into the bar and plops herself down on a stool to survey the crowd. A waitrat scurries over swiftly with a coffee, and Meg gives it an absent pat on the head.*

(no subject)

[ezekiel-36-27.livejournal.com]

Zeke opens his eyes and staaaaares from behind his pistol. This...is definitely not the alley he'd been in only a second before. Fearfully, one hand flies to his face to check his eyes, but finds them intact. Not Hell then. Not that it looked like Hell. He'd only been there for fifteen years but he liked to think he'd know that place if he saw it. And this wasn't it. This looked...like a bar. A really odd bar.

Okay, one, shoot Kenneth Dudley in the eyes. Two, bastard heads back Down where he belongs. Three, blink. Four...end up in a bar.

He closes his eyes and scrubs his face with one hand as the other puts his gun back into his coat. He moves his head as if to look upward before grinning and staring down at the floor.

"If this is another fricking movie rip-off, 'boss', I'm gonna shoot you again, I swear..."

(no subject)

[mister-vimes.livejournal.com]

Vimes saunters into milliways, looking a bit surprised for a second that he found it again, but mostly looking quite grumpy. Of course, he always looks grumpy, but this grumpiness borders on depression and a complete loss of faith in the human race.

He orders a drink from a rat, "A whi--"

"--Milk," he corrects himself.

It's times like these that he wishes he hadn't given up drinking.

It's times like these he's ashamed to be human.

He takes out a little doll, ragged and torn (and very typically the toy of a little girl on Cockbill street) and just looks at it. Its button eyes are hanging by threads and its hair is mostly torn out, and it looks very... very loved, would be the word.

See, and the thing that was bothering Vimes was that its owner wasn't. Not by somebody in Ankh-morpork. And that's obvious by the dark, dried splotches spattered on its faded, little dress.

He puts the doll on the bartop in front of him, and takes out a cigar and lights up, just as his milk is delivered.

This doesn't happen in Ankh-morpork. There isn't murder. There's certainly suicide, like someone deciding to walk through the Shades at night*, stealing without a license, or insulting a troll, but there's never murder.

And it's not a kid. It's never a kid. The people of his city may be dirty and bad and low and evil, they might be thieves and assassins, murderers and bribers. They might smell really bad...but they aren't child-killers.

Then again, Vimes is a cynical man. And on some deep level that makes him ashamed of the human race, he's not surprised.

He holds up his glass and tips it towards the doll. "Cheers, Annie," he says, his voice gruff and utterly serious, "And a promise." He takes a sip, and then says, "I'm going to find them."

He doesn't have to say anything more because that's promise enough.

---

*Or during the day, for that matter.

(no subject)

[trustntheharper.livejournal.com]

Harper is grunting and panting very loudly as he lugs something quite heavy into the bar and sets it on the floor somewhere in the center, next to a table. It looks like a server that ate a tv and is possibly also the product of an unholy union between a typewriter and a toaster oven.

It'll work though!

Hopefully.

Harper rubs his unshaven chin and scratches the back of his head. He needs some help. He hates to admit it, but he needs some help. He could probably build a slipstream engine with the right parts and equipment (although it would take him a while), but he's spent the last few years working on genetic engineering. This rudimentary stuff is, he hates to admit, starting to escape him in his old-ish age. Plus, he doesn't really have the right supplies.

Or maybe he's just panicking because he's afraid he'll be stuck in someplace, friendless, penniless, and alone (AGAIN), but in any case, he's having trouble focusing on putting the finishing touches on this puppy.

He loks around for Warren, that guy he met first night here, but doesn't see him. There's lots of babes around though. That's an upside.

Never the one for propriety, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts to the bar at large, "Hey! Any of you any good at communications technologies?!"

(no subject)

[gil-whimple.livejournal.com]

In the depths of the pantry something stirred - but it is only Gil, tail uppermost, wriggling out from under some shelves dragging a four gallon container of mincemeat.

"I knew it was here," he says, grunting with effort and Ratty peers at him over a belly roughly the size of a grapefruit and makes a tick on his list.

Squeak she says.

"Oh I should hope I made enough," Gil says worriedly. "How much Christmas cake do you think people can eat?"

Squeak Ratty replies.

"Oh I hope not," Gil says, sitting down on his tail and resting an elbow on the mincemeat barrel. "In any case I'm not icing them until next week. Then there's the stuffing to make, the cranberry sauce to make, the mincepies to make, the brandy and rum butters to make - never mind all the livestock."

He stretches right down to his hooves then relaxes. "And then there's presents," he says. "I've got to make those."

Squeak says Ratty and Gil chuckles. "No I'm not telling you," he says. "You have to wait until Christmas."

Squeak says Ratty again and advances on him and grabs one of his pasterns, tickling all around the top of his hoof. Gil - a gentleman, he likes to think - couldn't possibly kick a heavily pregnant rat so just gasps with laughter.

"No, no stop it, I won't tell," he pants. "No matter what ..."

Squeak giggles Ratty and Gil's replying shriek of laughter rattles all the jars of jam on the shelves.

(no subject)

[bandaid-polexia.livejournal.com]

*Polexia wanders downstairs and glances around quickly before sitting at a table*

(no subject)

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie sits at the bar, his head lying on his arm. He is spinning a coin on the bar top.

(no subject)

[dr-sexy.livejournal.com]

*Christian walks into the bar looking exhausted. He sits down at the bar and orders a scotch, drinks it and orders another. He leaves the second one sitting in front of him for now.*

(no subject)

[x-fhqwhagads-x.livejournal.com]

*The duck waddles in from the lake, takes a look around, then begins to waddle around the bar looking for the next person for his experiment!*

(no subject)

[boy-not-lost.livejournal.com]

Jake is in the bar, sitting at a table out of the general chaos. If he were older and worse at hiding his emotions, one would say that he was brooding.

To most others he's just sitting.

(no subject)

[alas_alas]

Echo is back at drawing, sadly, without the pretty pastels of earlier. She greatly misses them.

(no subject)

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

Gollum is sitting underneath a table in a booth. He's watching the patrons, but his luminous eyes are half-shut and he's leaning against the seat. He looks tired.

(no subject)

[fairest1.livejournal.com]

*Snow, Bigby and the kids willan on-enter the bar and willan on-take their seats in the normal booth*

(no subject)

[scottish-witch.livejournal.com]

She had been intent on returning to her office, having been called out, yet again, to deal with students out of dormitories after hours. The stack of essays on her desk on the Trasfiguration of inanimate to animate objects was not getting any smaller on it's own, and she hoped to finish it before she slept.

Milliways dashed that hope. She found herself, once again, in the barroom. The only saving grace was that she had not yet changed for bed.

(OOC: There will be brief magical violence in this thread. Both parties have agreed to it, and we beg that Security not intervene. Thank you.)

(no subject)

[joewithnoname.livejournal.com]

Joe enters the bar warily and a bit unsteadily. It's a little while later but his head is still foggy and his movements somewhat uncoordinated. Rice wine = The Devil is still imprinted in the top layer of his his consciousness. When he sees the mistletoe he gets as far from it as he can, being at this point capable of the simple arithmetic rice wine + mistletoe = death by bats.

~ asleep ~

[macleod_connor]

Connor is asleep leaning on the bar. However, unless you are immortal or very strong, disturbing him is a really bad plan.









[ooc: and mun will be departing soon for the night.]

(no subject)

[pirate_jack]

*He strolls in, grinning wickedly and humming a tune. Jack heads straight for the bar in search of rum and perhaps mischief.*

(no subject)

[capt_angie]

*Angie comes down the stairs. The normally happy, vibrant young woman is looking like she's just been told it's the end of the world. OK so technicly it is but you get the picture.

She shuffles into the bar wearing what may or may not be pyjamas and curls up a corner of a booth, and sets about nibbling on one of her thumb nails.*

(no subject)

[mr-brautigan.livejournal.com]

Evening has come to Calla Bryn Sturgis, and Ted Brautigan is not there to see it. He has instead come through his trapdoor and down the stairs into Milliways.

Smiling -- he wasn't sure he would be able to get back here -- he heads for the bar. When a rat seems to give him an inquiring look, he says, "A root beer -- wait." He thinks. What's something he can't get in the Calla (besides root beer) that he's been wanting for a Very Long Time?

"A pint of Guinness, please." When the rat runs off, his smile grows wider. He likes this place more and more every minute, and you really can't beat the view.

(no subject)

[sign-seeker.livejournal.com]

*Will enters. He glances at the bar, sees the mistletoe, and blinks; he looks rather amused, but he also veers deliberately towards the other end of the bar.*

(no subject)

[shadythief.livejournal.com]

Shadow weaves her way into and out of the crowd, breaking free of the throng in favor of the door leading to the lake. She climbs a tree quickly, finds a comfortable branch to stretch out on and lights her pipe.

"Ahh," she says, inhaling the pungent smoke. "Fortune favor me, that's the stuff."

She leans back and looks up at the stars, puffing occasionally.

(no subject)

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

[ooc: Letter to Crowley]

To Bigby, Tim, Alanna, Raph, Faith and Anakin....

[pjpettigrew.livejournal.com]

( Note to Security )

YuleHyde Greetings...

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Well, y'know, everyone and their mom is in the bar tonight, so let's throw a Hyde in there too. Except not his mom because he wouldn't like that.

He comes in from upstairs, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. Still in the same goddamn jeans and pot leaf belt buckle and crusty boots and denim vest and shades, but now he's switched to the delicious taste of Polly's Deep Purple tour shirt.

After a few quick arm swings to get circulation going, Hyde notices the mistletoe...and groans aloud.

"So they perpetuate all of the candy-coated Yuletide traditions that have been sold to the masses to keep them shopping during the holidays and tuning into specials of their favorite sitcoms...even at the end of the universe."

Hyde slumps onto a stool at the bar and mutters, "I need a cigarette."