Mar. 9th, 2005

mogget_cat: (Default)
[personal profile] mogget_cat
*Yrael, still sleepy, wanders out from the back corridor, looking vaguely around for something near floor-level.*
[identity profile] faithful-slayer.livejournal.com
Faith is still in the bar, sitting on the sofa with a bunch of copies of travel brochures around her. At the moment, she's flipping through one for a place called "Old Salem" which she strongly suspects would bore her to tears, if only because it's in North Carolina. Shame the "pick-your-own-berries" places don't have good PR.

Feel free to come interrupt her.
lastgunslinger: (Default)
[personal profile] lastgunslinger
Roland is looking at the front door, smoking.

His cigarette burns down. He stubs it out, gets up, crosses to it, and puts his hand on the knob.

His eyes narrow.

And his wrist twists, and he opens the door a crack.

What he sees --

His jaw sets, and he closes the door.

Then he goes back to the bar and rolls another cigarette.
[identity profile] grimy-brian.livejournal.com
*Brian has a daffodil behind his ear and is wearing army trousers and a green t-shirt. He's lying on the floor. Pretending to be a hill*
[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
[ooc: In the Staff Quarters Sunday night. Rated NC-17 for explicit sexual content. Sorry for the delay, but this fucker's yooge and beyond plotty. :O]
[identity profile] mediocresaint.livejournal.com
Salieri's in the bar once more. This has nothing to do with his mun avoiding a very pregnant essay. Definitely not!
[identity profile] key-youth-bert.livejournal.com
I asked one draught of earlier, happier sights

Cuthbert's learned to expect the unexpected, at Milliways. But even so, there are things you can never be prepared for.

Ere fitly I could hope to play my part

He'd come to accept and love a Roland who's so much older, in so many ways, than the friend he remembered. He'd come to be content with the friends he's made here, and stop spending so much of his time yearning for those who were gone.

He wasn't prepared for Milliways to suddenly give him both his brothers back.

And he's even less prepared to have one taken away again, just as suddenly.

Think first, fight afterwards, the soldier's art

But they are ka's prisoners, all of them.

And so, Cuthbert and Will Stanton approach the bar, where Roland sits. They're ready to do what must be done.

Bert wonders if Roland will be.

One taste of the old time sets all to rights
[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com
Ace is curled up against the fireplace, enjoying the warmth. She's a bit down, feeling homesick for no particular reason. She can come up with a list as long as her arm as to why she should be glad to be here, but... yeah. Feel free to bug her.


(ooc: mun can only be on for an hour or so... then must be scholarly and attempt to fix the run of bad luck I've had lately.) (ooc: Back! Frazzled. But back.)
gone_byebye: (Default)
[personal profile] gone_byebye
Morning: the Universe's way of saying 'oh, you weren't doing anything important with that REM sleep, were you?'

Ray trudges into the bar, stacks his usual books and digitalia on one of the tables, shuffles over to the bar for coffee, and then plunks himself down in his seat again.

Awake is such a tricky thing, some days.
[identity profile] iwasalevel6.livejournal.com
Tony has the angst. He's also in the bar. What else is new?
[identity profile] timsbooks.livejournal.com
*Tims in bar. Whoowhoo! Anyone need him for anything?*
[identity profile] femme-wizard.livejournal.com
Actually, thinks Esk on reading the note on the bar, some birds taste quite nice, and cat's certainly better than one of Throat's sausages.

But it's evening for her, so after feeding the trilobites, changing the rose petals, checking on the pregnant rabbit and the books, she retrieves the book she had left in bar yesterday, orders an ale and settles down by the fire, hoping today will prove a lot more sensible than yesterday.

[OOC: Mun has some work to do, so replies may be slow.]
[identity profile] prone-to-panic.livejournal.com
Look over there in the corner near the fireplace and you might discover a sailor slumped in one of the cushy chairs, fast asleep with a book lying open on his chest.

Don't worry about him too much, he's slept in far less comfortable places. The question is; what's he doing down here?
milliways_sawyer: (Default)
[personal profile] milliways_sawyer
James walks slowly down the stairs. He has a full backpack on his back; the tip of a boomerang can be seen barely peaking out from under the top flap. In his left hand, he holds the key to his room; in his right, a stack of letters. He walks over to the bar, places the key and letters on top, and whispers something to it. The key vanishes as does the letters.

Satisfied, James turns and walks toward the front door. His hands are shaking and his bottom lip is trembling, but he suppresses the urge to bolt back up the stairs. He takes a deep breath before he pulls the door open and steps quickly out. He must have caught the door jam on the way out, because now he's falling forward, and he instinctively closes his eyes so as not to see the floor he knows must be rushing up to meet him...

The door closes shut behind him with a quiet click.

The bar holds letters now for a couple of people. They are folded neatly in thirds and have names printed more-or-less neatly on the top flap.

ExpandSnow )

ExpandClaire )

ExpandEris )

[OOC: Post-Milliways]
[identity profile] lukes-diner.livejournal.com
For the past week or longer, Luke has opened the door to his storeroom carefully as if he expected snakes on springs to jump out.

Nothing has happened, of course.

Until today.

He looks at Milliways, bemused. Here again. May as well make the best of it.
[identity profile] lorelaivictoria.livejournal.com
For those who know to monitor such things, the molecular makeup of the bar now contains one Lorelai. Avec coffee.

And waffles.

She is fairly stable and unlikely to react with volatility to other atoms. Feel free to experiment.
[identity profile] skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com
Valkyrie*, Bar.

*Though identifying characteristics to tell she's a Valkyrie are missing; armor and whatnot got left in Nevada in 1983. Don't worry, she'll get it back Besides, Valkyrie is more of a job description than a physical recognition, anyways. So we'll just put Svava in jeans, a pink blouse, and carrying a big knife/small sword across her back. ... Its a Valkyrie thing.

Oh, just end the rambling explanation and have her enter already.
[identity profile] testpilot-hal.livejournal.com
Hal's here, dressed in civilian attire and looking like someone woke him rudely from restless sleep. He's back for yet another cup of exceptional coffee, but something is troubling him. That something is the mug in his left hand, the same mug he attempted to return to the Bar yesterday. The same mug that he accidentally removed from the Bar a second time. It is this mug that he now places on the Bar.

"Bar. Hello. If you please, could you not ..."

The mug proceeds to fill from within like a small rising tide of rich Columbian perfection.

"... refill this mug? Just wait. A minute or two."

Bar stops filling. If it were possible for the patch of polished wood beneath the mug to look slightly dejected and confused, it would.

"Thank you."

Hal sits at the bar, chin in hand, staring at the mug. He's approachable, of course, but in a paradoxical mood.

[ooc: Hal-mun has left for the day. Thank you.]
bloodyrockgod: (Default)
[personal profile] bloodyrockgod
Charlie comes downstairs with Seth in a carseat and an impressive bag of baby paraphenalia at his side--including, of all things, the CD player Bartleby gave him for his birthday. However, he sets the car seat on a nearby table and himself at the piano.

He's remembered a lullaby.

Expandwhen you dream )

He takes Seth out of the seat and moves to the table, to do whatever it is one can do while holding a not-quite-month-old baby in your lap.
nita_callahan: (Default)
[personal profile] nita_callahan
Nita's at the bar with her Poetry book, reading and re-reading T. S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and trying to figure out what it means. Feel free to distract her, or discuss poetry, or whatever.


[OOC: Apologies if replies are slow, I'm doing homework.]

Bartending!

Mar. 9th, 2005 02:58 pm
[identity profile] sendpeanutbtr.livejournal.com
Claire steps behind the bar, after leaving a sleeping Seth with his daddy. The bar produces another note for her, this time in the carefully messy handwriting of a child. She opens it and reads it with a sad smile and then puts it in her pocket.


"What can I get for you?"





[[ooc: She's here for two hours, kids. Get it while the gettin's good. Which just sounds so dirty. All threads at 7pm EST can be wrapped or slow-timed, if you don't mind. please and thank you. :)]]
river_meimei: (Default)
[personal profile] river_meimei
The door slides open, and River enters. One hand traces along the doorframe, and then trails along the wall as she makes her way further into the bar. She looks... not upset, but perhaps a bit more distracted than usual.
[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
*Hair still wet from the shower, Bernard emerges from the guest quarters looking a little tired after all the hammering working on the Staff Wing. He's got a letter in his hand, and he sits and re-reads it, smiling.

He probably wouldn't mind being distracted.*
[identity profile] b-ko-chan.livejournal.com
*Oddly enough, there's the shadow of a pigtailed girl on the wall, but no pigtailed girl in sight. She is flipping through a shadow book.*

*sadly, to herself* Finding someone in the phone book is hard when you don't know their last name . . .

Or their first name . . .

And they don't have a phone number . . .
[identity profile] shockinglycute.livejournal.com
The bar is now slightly more colorful, thanks to the addition of on small yellow beastie. It stretches, yawns, scratches an ear, and then wanders off to see what sort of wacky hijinks it can cause if there's anything to eat.
[identity profile] notsoyoung.livejournal.com
David is just sitting in the bar.

Nothing special.

Just feeling loved.

[OOC: Mun is gone out for a few hours.]

[OOC: Back. Bowling was fun. Broke 120 on both games, but never won either. BAH.]
[identity profile] youalleverybody.livejournal.com
Liam heads in through the front door, and over to the bar.
not_that_spike: (Default)
[personal profile] not_that_spike
Really, he's too damn lazy about certain things to want to do them all the time: he needs the right motivation.

There are some people he'll do anything for though, whether he feels like it or not; no big surprise, Spike signed on to help with the staff quarters building project in exchange for wiping out Beth's debt to the bar.

Beth doesn't know this yet.

He sits, feet up on the opposite chair, a big glass of ice water in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Just taking a break. It's nice to be back down here again, especially after the fallout from all the shit with Hotaru.
[identity profile] maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com
Elaine is clad in breeches and linen shirt, and drops her cloak on the ground beside the lake. Elaine draws her sword and begins her practice slowly, warming up her muscles.

This is good. She needs the activity to get the last few days out of her head. Melancholy and worry and just a little bit of infatuation (this last she pressed down very deep not ready yet, not ready...it wasn't good, and if she didn't try to break from the madness, she was afraid of what would happen to her.

It had only been a short time since the nightmares had ended. She didn't have them anymore, though she still woke to the scraping of stone in her ears, her body the temperature of the stone coffin they'd placed her within. She wondered idly if Ryan remembered the grave. She figured probably not...she still suspected she hadn't quite been dead when they interred her. She suspected they were much more thorough in Ryan's time...

You're warm now, she thought. Don't think about that. Elaine concentrated on footwork, as Alanna had told her to do. Elbow down, follow through, butterfly sweep...

She was quickening her pace now, her sword flashing in the dim light of late day like fire...

Quickfire...

Elaine slows, then stops, looking at her sword. "Quickfire," she murmured, looking at the sharp length of silver metal. "I think Alanna will be pleased."

And after a moment, she's practicing again with renewed vigor, and she's smiling.
i_vanquish_evil: (Default)
[personal profile] i_vanquish_evil
Van Helsing's awake... probably hungry and definitely wanting company or distraction.

He's aware that Natalie is trying to find Beowulf.
[identity profile] mini-supes.livejournal.com
Kon somehow ends up in Milliways on the way to detention. Something that, while it won't look good for his record, is a welcome break from the usual three hour long stretch.

He walks to the bar and orders a milkshake, cursing Vi throughout the process. Damn addictive things...
[identity profile] prettyhelen.livejournal.com
Heeeeeere's Helen! All waitressy looking. In bar. With Tray and Pegasus.

Come badger her!
[identity profile] eternal-boy.livejournal.com
Nick wanders down...singing low under his breath, a peaceful smile on his face. His voice is rich, tone clear even at that volume, the ancient words flowing smoothly from his tongue in a rich baritone. He's in a new suit, steps sure but light, body swinging gently with the melody of the song.

Anc ieu non l'aic mas elha m'a I never held it but it holds me
totz temps en son poder Amors all the time in its bail, Love,
e fai'm irat let, savi fol and makes me glad in anger, fool in wisdom
cum selhui qu'en re nos torna, as one that never can fight back,
c'om no's defend qui ben ama, because one who loves well cannot defend himself.
qu'Amors comanda 'cause love commands
qu'om la serv'e la blanda: that men serve and soothe it:
per qu'ieu n'aten for which I expect,
sufren suffering,
bona partida a good reward,
quan m'er escarida. whenever it is granted.

Eu dic pauc q'ins el cor m'esta I tell little of what's in my heart:
q'estar me fa temen paors; fear makes me silent and scared;
la lenga's feing mas lo cors vol tongue hides but heart wants
so don dolen si sojorna: what on which, in pain, broods so:
ie'n languis, mas no s'en clama I languish, but I do not complain
qu'en tant a randa because so far
cum mars terra guaranda as the sea embraces the earth
non a tan gen, there's none so kind,
prezen actually,
cum la cauzida as the chosen one
qu'ieu ai encobida. for whom I long.

A smile as he settles at the bar, in his old spot, ordering his usual after a quick scan of the room, looking for new faces to greet and familiar faces to meet with again.
[identity profile] forsaken-bard.livejournal.com
Asmodean walked down the stairs with harp in hand. He paced over to the bar and leaned against it. Though before he played a single note, he studied the harp for a second. He would appease the patrons of the bar a little later.

He walked over to the piano, and set the harp down on top. With very little delay, he began to play the piano. The melodies that came from the instrument were getting more intricate. They were still soft, because he was practicing not performing, but the melodies were getting better.

Feel free to interrupt his practice. He probably will not mind.
[identity profile] faithful-slayer.livejournal.com
Faith is in the bar, all yesterday's signs of happiness or relief wiped from her face. She's sitting in a chair near the fireplace, gazing into the flames, looking very tired and very resigned.

Come try to cheer her up if you want, but don't hold your breath.
[identity profile] anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com
*The door to the outside opens slowly, and Anthy steps in, daintily tapping the slush and mud off her shoes. She hangs up her red jacket and heads for the bar.*

Green tea, please. No sugar.

*She wraps her hands around the teacup, and peacefully breathes in the steam.*
[identity profile] empath-wiggin.livejournal.com
Val's in the bar, wandering around, cleaning up dishes while keeping her nose in a book. Yes, she somehow is capable of holding a tray, wiping down tables, and clearing the bar, all while her attention is held on the book, her MP3 player on, headphones secured. Be careful. She might bump into you if you're not paying attention.
bloodyrockgod: (Default)
[personal profile] bloodyrockgod
Soon after Claire's shift is over Charlie takes Seth back upstairs. He comes back with his guitar and sets himself up near the fireplace. He puts the guitar on his knee and strums absently for a bit, thinking.

When he sings, it's soft and meditative.

Expandblackbird singing in the dead of night )

Then once again, he strums absently.
[identity profile] firstmarauder.livejournal.com
There is a flash, and a crash, and a barrel-chested young man.

"YES! DID IT AGAIN!"

Sirius Black pumps his fist in the air and playfully punches the wall of Milliways, joyously. After a jubilant moment he looks around and realises, however, that he has once again come to Milliways alone.

Well, James was in a snit anyway and Moony didn't really want to go out and Peter was being insufferably Peter. It's just as well.

Besides, there's plenty for a charming, handsome, brilliant young man to do in a place like Milliways, right?
[identity profile] prince-arithon.livejournal.com
Enter Arithon. He found Nick.

Now they're headed outside, and as they walk Arithon removes a small pouch and a pipe from his belt pouch. He looks grim, but that has rather been standard, hasn't it?
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_our_king_/
Ron woke up, from where he had dozed off in a booth the previous night. He was a nervous, emotional wreck. Watching an innocent girl--in a ripped, cleavage-revealing shirt--get eaten alive by a killer talking plant and then spending half the night questioning your sexuality because a male elf kissed you and you liked it (not knowing that elves had a tendency to exude veela-like powers), tended to leave a person such a wreck.

He peered around the room, hoping for someone to talk to, and slowly stood.

His wand was still up in the rafters, so he climbed up onto a table and reached up to get it.
balletrat: (Default)
[personal profile] balletrat
[OOC: Pre-Milliways.]

*Meg is looking for gunslingers.

Andrew is just looking confused.

Either way, they're both in the bar, now.*
[identity profile] scottish-witch.livejournal.com
Minerva has finally given up. She has brought all the essays that need marking with her, and has taken over a corner booth. She has a quill, an inkpot of red ink, and a full pot of tea. She is prepared.
[identity profile] no-prisoner.livejournal.com
Eddie takes up position behind the bar, looking cheerful, if slightly subdued for himself.

"Evenin, folks, and welcome to Happy Hour here at the end of the Universe. Specials tonight are the Grumpier Old Man, the Blue Eyed Boy and graf. Come and get it."
[identity profile] timsbooks.livejournal.com
*Tims in the bar. Yey Tim! He's actually working, he's got out a couple of notepads, and three crystals. He's watching the crystals, making notes in the books from time to time. He seems to be testing the crystals reactions to various magics.*

Hmm. Okay, so kryptonite, when exposed to intense solar radiation produces stronger levels. Makes sense. However, the solar radiation has no measurable affect on either the thangarite or the solid magic..... hmmm
the_antiangst: (Default)
[personal profile] the_antiangst
Angel's been downstairs for a while, hanging out by the fireplace. No, really, he has. You just haven't noticed him before now.
shelley_winters: (Default)
[personal profile] shelley_winters
Because she usually is at about this time, Shelley is in the bar. She's wandering a bit aimlessly, and looking about, but the person she's looking particularly for doesn't seem to be around. Feel free to waylay her.

[OOC: Will be around for an hour, maybe a bit more? Who can say?]
mogget_cat: (Default)
[personal profile] mogget_cat
*Yrael is curled up on the bar, dozing lightly. His tail twitches every so often.*

*Not'cats are allowed catnaps, too, you know.*
[identity profile] bandaid-polexia.livejournal.com
*Polexia wanders downstairs and sits at the bar. Come talk.*
[identity profile] ihlini-witch.livejournal.com
Ginevra quietly sits in a booth, with tea and chocolate-covered strawberries, still reading a women's magazine, but a different one.

She is getting the hang of being a modern woman.
[identity profile] asar-suti.livejournal.com
Asar-Suti comes into the bar from the staff wing, having conjured supplies and helped with the tearing-down of a few old structures.

Sometimes, it's useful to have somebody who can banish specific bits of building, as opposed to just swinging a sledgehammer. Asar-Suti is rubbish at swinging sledgehammers, but good at banishing and dissipating substance.

As Esk has obviously fed the trilobites, Asar-Suti goes and hangs out around the bar, talking to people, and glad for conversation of a non building-related kind.

He knows entirely too much about the different sorts of wall plugs and screw anchors by now.

OOM:

Mar. 9th, 2005 10:09 pm
steadfastknight: (Default)
[personal profile] steadfastknight
[OOM: Open High-Ways: Taking Svava home, and coming back with takeout. And Bonnie ends up being 'taken out' by Karr - over his shoulder, no less.]
[identity profile] silverageflash.livejournal.com
There is a red blur, and then there is a new note posted on the bulletin board...

ATTENTION DOCTORS, HEALERS AND OTHER PRACTITIONERS OF THE MEDICAL ARTS

The management of Milliways is seeking to create of a registry of patrons who possess medical skills, both of scientific and magical origin. This will better allow patrons and staff to find medical aid in a timely fashion.

If you are interested in being this registry, please sign in below, indicating your name, specialty (if any), and years of experience.


The bottom of the note signed "The Flash" and next to the signature is the familiar lightning-in-a-circle symbol.



[ooc: In case this is not entirely clear, Flash is not around for conversation just now.]
[identity profile] honest-johns.livejournal.com
Alain comes downstairs. He looks tired. Physically he's been catching up on sleep; emotionally... well, it's been a busy few days.

He's wearing a new shirt. It appeared in his closet yesterday, which unnerves him slightly, as he has a feeling the method of delivery did not involve anything so prosaic as a maid with an extra key. But it fits, and is comfortable. Old jeans, old workboots, and the omnipresent ancient guns with their glowing sandalwood grips.
[identity profile] eternal-boy.livejournal.com
Nick walks in from the lake, Arithon in his arms. The small sorcerer is thin and sickly looking and very obviously passed out. Nick looks from one side of the room to the other before shouting.

"I NEED A HEALER! NOW!"
[identity profile] action-antihero.livejournal.com
Jack's sitting in one of the stuffed armchairs by the fireplace, reading Fellowship of the Ring, and is quite glad he's not in the dead-centre of the drama going on, for once.

He's also in a relatively good mood, so feel free to come over and make him put the book down for a while.
[identity profile] theotherbernard.livejournal.com
A man wanders into the bar. He has an exceedingly grubby coat, a cigarette, a small bottle of whiskey, and... the hair. If ever hair were uncouth, this man's achieved it. He staggers to a table and sits down.

Uh, dudes

Mar. 9th, 2005 10:52 pm
[identity profile] got-batteries.livejournal.com
"Where am I," he said looking around. He had just gotten up from the fire after reavealing something personal to Charlie, now he was here, in some type of bar.
gonna_live: (Default)
[personal profile] gonna_live
Kaylee Frye enters the bar, coveralls on, but she's without the engine grease that usually accompanies it. This time her work is here. But first, a snack and something to drink. And hopefully she'd see Wash or Simon to talk to them about the whole monetary aspect of this job thing.

She sits down at a table, laying out the diagram she'd made of her plan for the wiring in the staff quarters and begins to change things on it.
[identity profile] xan-shaped.livejournal.com
Xander is down in the bar. He feels a bit akward for some unknown reason. Almost like he ought to say good-bye.



[ooc: Current mun has given Xander up for adoption, soon another will be taking over. So this is my adios thread :) ]
[identity profile] ratspeakergirl.livejournal.com
Anaesthesia comes downstairs and leaves a note on the Bar.

Richards out again today. Bar will give you what you ask for if your polite to her. If youre not, then you might get something not so nice, like cat. An not the fluffy prety kind that you pat, either. That or bird, which dont taste much better than cat does. So polite is good.
[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
*Bernard's still in the bar.

He's just, you know. Quiet. Or something.

Yeah.

Usual table.*
mnt_mike: (Default)
[personal profile] mnt_mike
Mike clambers down the stairs fully clothed for once. It's....it's a look, we'll give him that. He's bundled as if he's expecting the next ice age to hit any second now. About half way to the bar he stops, sneezes in a most spectacular way, and then continues onward to the bar where he orders a large bowl of chicken broth and some additional chemical handwarmers.
Poor guy.
[identity profile] i-grow-old.livejournal.com
J. Alfred Prufrock walks into the bar for only the second time in his life. He look arounds and laughs to himself still only half believing this place exists, but certainly ready to welcome a break from his reality.