milliways_bar | Aug. 31st, 2005

Aug. 31st, 2005

He entered with a bit of surprise - before, it had been intentional. This time it wasn't, as evidenced by the fact that he was wearing his pajamas. But there were worse places to be before bed. So he walked in peacefully enough, deciding that a taste of lemonade before bed would be well and good.

One case down. They'd head back to LA tomorrow.

latino_menace

Ramon's out by the lake, pulling languidly on a large cigar. He's mulling over something he's just heard from a new patron...and trying to think things through rationally for once. Things have gotten complicated recently.

But at the same time, one thing never changes and that's his need for revenge. So when it comes down to it, there's no decision to make. It's simply a matter of when.

[OOC: Locked to Jack please, thx!]

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

Max is sitting in a booth, in theory building a house of cards. In reality, she's spending more time people-watching than paying attention to the cards. Feel free to lend a hand to the card-house building operation. Or ask for a card game of some sort. She does those, too.

honest-johns.livejournal.com

[Last night: a dream, with Lilly]

Alain really wants to talk to Roland. Not for advice, even, necessarily, though that'd be welcome. Just to sit and smoke with him, and maybe talk and maybe just sit in companionable silence.

For the first time in his life, that's not an option. Won't be ever again, this side of the clearing.

This does not improve his mood.

He's sitting outside on Roland's favorite rock, smoking alone instead. There's an empty bag next to him that held his dinner, and a book he was reading while it was still light enough to do so. That was a while ago.

latino_menace

There's a man walking in from the lake. He's got a strange expression on his face, one of half amusement, half fear. And occasionally he glances down at himself as though there's something on his clothes that shouldn't be there.

Or maybe he's just not used to what he's seeing.

Either way, he heads to the bar. And is about to order a tequila...when he seems to check himself and gets a coffee instead.

inquisitivehero

Hank McCoy enters, carrying a small bag with him. It clanks a little, and there are other such noises from it. He walks over to the bar and settles on a stool there.

"Lady Bar, an orange juice, fruit, waffles, and sausage, please?"

He slaps some money down on the Bar, which disappears and is replaced by a large plate of the requested food.

"Ah and I found something you might like as well."

He pulls out of the bag a small item that shimmers in the light. It appears to be a fist sized round ball of glass. It is flashing with a steady blue light.

"This is a worldwide anti-tarnich and rot field, designed by Tony Stark's great-grandson from the 50th century and according to him, it ought to help ensure your health for a long time to come."

The device disappears into the Bar.

Hank nods and settles in to eat.

i-aughra.livejournal.com

The Door opens and Grumpyness Incarnate enters.

Aughra is back from Thra, hoping to get to work assembling her Milliways telescope soon...but the trip home has been somewhat annoying.

"Bar!" she barks as she climbs up on a stool. "Kainz wine! Two bottles."

animation-inc.livejournal.com

Vampire Executioner inna bar.

She's been conspiciously absent for the last few days. First off with Faith, and then off in the woods and in her room. A small break of sorts so that she can get her bearings.

This morning, she's reading a book at a table, with a light breakfast.

She looks tired and quiet

Come say hi.

[OOC: ~~ETA, am taking short nap since boychild woke me up at the butt crack of dawn, will be back soon~~ back!]

cywyllog

Cywyllog sits at a table looking rather frustrated. She has a pen, ink and a lot of paper. So far she hasn't been able to produce anything other than inkblots.

Come cheer her up?

mctrillian.livejournal.com

Trillian is in the bar because it's somewhere to be.

Warren, Max and Faith, as far as she knows, keep their vigil over Isabel when needed.

It isn't her problem, right? So she won't worry about it, right?

... Well, she does her best, sitting at a small table happily sipping coffee. But this time just one cup.

lvpd_sidle

Once again, Sara is working on her scrapbook. And keeping a casual eye on the front door.

Feel free to see what she's included. It's probably about you.

empath-wiggin.livejournal.com

Val comes into the the bar in long, flowing white robes and a silver circlet on her head, with her hair arranged in a rather ornate manner around the circlet. She grabs a mug of tea, and plunks down at a table with her bag, and a pile of papers. To those who know such things, she is in Antarian Parliamentary dress.

the-damsel.livejournal.com

The New York Times wasn't offering much in the way of entertainment, and so it was tossed aside on April's table next to her now-empty breakfast plate. She was instead scratching away in her journal, pausing every once in awhile to thump the end of her pen against the pages as she considered how to word something. It was quite possible that April O'Neil was the only person who worried about how she wrote down her thoughts in her private journal. All part and partial to a life lived in denial, and at that point it was simply habit.

She was presently staring down at the page with a subtle frown, as she was unsure if she wanted to add anything more to what she had already written. Please interrupt her, before she overthinks it or gives herself a headache.

~~[OOC: @ 12:35 ET - Mun must go to a meeting. Will be back in about an hour or so.]~~

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

There's a mermaid in the bar.

Naraht's just finished a light lunch and is resting a bit before she goes back outside to the lake. Once again, she's in a musical mood.

And it's a slightly melancholy one (probably because she couldn't find Johnny last night).

Oh Bonny Portmore I am sorry to see
Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree
For it stood on your shore for many's the long day
Till the long boats of Antrim came to float it away.

Oh Bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.

All the birds in the forest they bitterly weep
Saying, "Where will we shelter or where will we sleep?"
For the oak and the ash they are all cutten down
And the walls of Bonny Portmore are all down to the ground.

Oh Bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.

Someone please come tell her to sing something cheerful!

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith, in a booth, with lunch and a tired expression.

And coffee. Strong. Black. Possibly lethal.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Random's in the bar.

Looking like he hasn't slept much.

Yesterday was surreal.

Today...? Probably even more so. But don't tell him that.

puckishly.livejournal.com

Enter one Puck, now sans leather pants. Can't breathe in those things. At any rate, he is in the bar, perched on the back of an armchair.

[OOC: Mun has around an hour and a half before slowtime is necessary.]

badderthanyou

[OOM: pre-Milliways]

Dawn enters the bar through the front door... what? You didn't see her leave? So what, doesn't mean she didn't. So, anyway, in through the front door and she's dressed all, well, Dawn-like, but she asks the bar for something different to wear - she's been wearing jeans and stuff for days and just wants something else. She didn't figure she'd get a mini-make-over, not that she's complaining.

She sits at the bar and orders a soda... the bar won't give her alcohol anyway.

[ooc: mun is at work (yeah, systems came back online n' stuff) but is sorta-busy-ish and may be uber slow with replies.]

collects_ears

If you look carefully - you will see George, sitting at a table while eating his lunch.

ooc: He's looking for distraction, so feel free to stop by. <small

slayer_fray

Mel doesn't train, not really. She just happens to find exercise and violence fun, and gets bored easily. At home, she'd get all the training she needed from bar brawls and theiving. She knows no martial art, has no fighting style, and relies on her speed of thought and natural abilities most of the time.

This morning, she's already spent the best part of a pre-breakfast hour swimming, had an early breakfast, been hunting demon bunnies, fooled around on her skaterug, and is now by the archery targets, playing with her sparky throwing knives, sweat glistening on her brow.

It's not training. She's not nervous. It's just...

...yeah, I got nothing.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Arithon enters the bar. He doesn't have anything interesting with him, unless you consider English homework interesting. If you happen to be someone who had a hand in inventing the language, you might possibly not want to let him know. As Arithon's word has a much, much simpler premise and he's beginning to consider the benefits of simply using magic exclusively to translate for himself.

Except that it would be cheating. So he doesn't. Bards, go figure.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

Michael had a restless night, again, and he's given up on sleep altogether for today. He's out running laps around the lake, trying to convince himself he's not tired.

The dark circles under his eyes say different.

and-far-away.livejournal.com

Sharpe has brought his makeshift rifle target downstairs, and is at the edge of the woods shooting at it.

perfectblue.livejournal.com

Illyria's in the bar. Sans Play-Doh this time, but she's acquired a book on the mysteries of the human brain.

... it may or may not be "Psychology for Dummies"

At any rate, she's reading it, frowning now and then, and puzzling over the strange workings of these lesser beings.

Come chat. She's in one of her better moods.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

*Tims in bar. At his table. Worrying. Come distract him?*

kidzoom.livejournal.com

Evil speedster at the bar. He's on the lookout for friends, as usual. Funny how he looks exactly like a certain good speedster.

not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com

Castle in an out-of-the-way corner booth, lost in thought. He's wearing a CTU Academy t-shirt and doesn't know whether the Bar's given it to him to encourage him or taunt him. That conversation with 'Jack' last night had stung. And the one with 'Ramon'...

He probably won't talk about any of this unless you're either Random or from CTU. But bother him anyway. He could stand to be distracted.

lore-spinner.livejournal.com

Spider's sitting at Bar, with a grab bag of items.

Things he's seen people with, and wanted to see for himself.

A plate of fried paradoxes covered in tabasco, a rose, a floppy hat, some pieces of straw and the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

He is trying to eat, make something out of the straw, and read the book all at once, while sniffing the rose.

He can.

Almost as if he has extra hands ...

guppy_sandhu

Guppy just came off the night shift so he's looking a little tired. He grabs a couple of slices of toast and a coffee from the bar and takes them outside, where he sits in the sun looking at the lake.

clumsy_auror

[OOC: Letter to Crowley]

dreamer_fray

Creepy vampire kid brother in the bar.

On the floor, actually, sitting against the wall looking ridiculously small. He's idly leafing through a notebook with a faint, odd smile.

...Well, at least he doesn't look dangerous. Creepy is just going to happen.

not-caroline.livejournal.com

The front door opens and the serious-faced little girl peeps in. She grins, though, at the sight of the bar, and climbs up onto a stool. She takes a few pound coins out of her pocket and put them on the bar. "May I have a chocolate sundae, please?"

Of course she can.

highking.livejournal.com

[OOM: Peter dreams, and Peter wakes.]

And now Peter broods, over a cup of coffee with a few drops of whiskey splashed in for good measure.

jack_inthegreen

Jack is outside, sitting among the bluebells. Their chatter is nonsensical and soothing.

What? Didn't you know bluebells talk?

aj_crawley

[OOC: Letter to Tonks and Bernard]

bloody-awful.livejournal.com

*John walks in through the front door, whistling "La Vie En Rose".*

*Lock up your sons and daughters, Millipeople. The King of All Bastards is looking to pull.*

laughing-flower.livejournal.com

"Whooohahahahaheeeeee!"

Someone forgot to lock the back door, didn't they. Oh dear. Well, that would explain why there's a hare in a green tunic, with a dirk srapped to the belt around her waist, marching into the bar.

There isn't anything in the cosmos that can explain that laugh, however.

magius-unlocked.livejournal.com

Magius, after a late start and taking breakfast about the lake area, comes in and settles at the Bar.

"Bar, ham and greens, and ale, please."

The plate shimmers into existence and Magius digs in, his eyes sweeping the Bar area endlessly.

silver-dante.livejournal.com

Dante in the bar relaxing, come bug....

just-connor.livejournal.com

(pre-Milliways)

The door bursts open and Connor dives into Milliways. He rolls into a low crouch and spins to face the door, obviously ready to fight.

Then he recognizes the door.

Connor blinks and stands up, relaxing. He walks over to the bar. "That was seriously good timing. Can I have a stake?" The stake materializes, and he hides it in the waistband of his jeans.

He looks annoyed. Come distract him.

velocitygirl

Inyri. Bar. Whyren's. Holobook.

The mun's got no creativity right now.

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

Aeryn is in the bar with the type of smile that only the very recently 'laid' wear. But before you ask, she's not the type to tell you why she's grinning broadly. You're welcome to guess though, especially as she's singing something that sounds very much like a love song. She may have been taken over by some cupid-like life form.

not_that_spike

Whistling what could be construed as a sad little tune but isn't really -- it's just something aimless and pretty -- Spike wanders in from a walk around the lake. No running (that was earlier) and no working out (that was earlier too). The weather out there reminds him of this park in Mars-L.A. where he grew up, where it always felt like the end of summer or the start of autumn. Of course, in a domed and climate-controlled colony there wasn't that big a difference between the two, but he learned to recognize the subtle nuances.

People who migrated there from Earth usually had a pretty good appreciation for changes in seasons. Nothing as extreme as what they have outside here, though.

The Happy Hour sign catches his eye, though: how can he possibly pass up a drink called Adios, Motherfucker? He might just have to try one tonight.

sai_delgado

There's ample space by the lake, but Susan's reluctant to practice throwing the 'rizas there. She's not even spoken of it to anyone besides Susannah, not yet-- but it's not that she's afraid to, or embarrassed.

It simply means more, somehow, and so she's kept it close.

But that doesn't mean she's not practiced -- Susan's taking it seriously, oh aye, and she's made good use of the clearing Svava showed her once. Kiseki's even used to the sound, by now, barely twitching an ear.

When Susan rides him back to the stable this evening and dismounts there, she's smiling, and seems much more comfortable with the bag slung at her hip.

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine comes downstairs, still in medieval garb, and takes the tray from Bar.

She looks around to see who needs sustenance.

If you do, just let her know!

http://users.livejournal.com/_chappy_/

There's a Ryan in the bar, reading a book.

His mun is in a foul mood but he's doing ok.

Talk to him if you like.

auntie-di.livejournal.com

Aunt Diana in the bar.

Doing something important with a piece of paper, a plastic straw, a string, a spring, several Possibilities and a toy boat. Not to mention marshmallows.

Four of them.

Mmmm imp traps. Gotta love 'em.

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

Eddie has been behind the Bar, shuffling through books, noting down drink recipes that look interesting to him. There may be a subconscious selection factor in play here. He's been noting things, adding things, crossing things out. When it starts getting late, he takes his final three selections and chalks them up behind the Bar.

Specials:

Big Brothers
Widow's Woods Nightcap
Adios Motherfucker

He gets himself a bottle Coke and sticks a lemon in the neck, and waits for customers.

kayip.livejournal.com

[OOM: Exposed.]

hakkai-n-jeep.livejournal.com

Hakkai sits in a booth in front of the observation window watching the never-ending ending of the universe. He sips his tea while Hakuryu curls on the tabletop, sleeping lightly.

He looks like he could use a friend.

azarathsraven.livejournal.com

Raven in the bar, she looked sleepy and a bit rumpled. She cradled something in her hand as she crossed the floor and made her way to the bar.

"Bar?" She speaks hesitantly. "Can I have a glass of juice and maybe some sunflower seeds?"

The bar produces what she needs and she drops the money onto the counter before making her way to a table and sitting down. Stifling a yawn she takes a drink of juice and places the sunflower seeds in her hand.

This is what Ravens got in her hand.

Come and ask where she got it.

singlesoledjest.livejournal.com

Hovering just above the bar, cross-legged and amused, is a blonde ghost. He's not been around for a while, but ssshhh. Don't tell him that. Pretend he has.

Why is he amused? Well. It's a long story. But to shorten it slightly - he loves fireworks. And someone mentioned to him a wondrous 20th-Century invention. Indoor fireworks. There would be a picture, if Google had not failed utterly. But they look like fireworks, only, three inches high. At most.

The one that's going at the moment is making a high squeaking noise as it curls around on the metal tray. Mercutio is watching it with glee.

animation-inc.livejournal.com

There's a vampire executioner in the bar.

She's got a book James Heriot "The Lord god Made them All", and is sitting at the bar with a plate full of food that she's not eating. There's another Stuffed penguin and a glass of soda.

She's glancing up every so often, looking at whats around her.

Come say hi

sane-bombardier.livejournal.com

Yossarian.

Eating a plum tomato that bar gave him.

Current Mood: Alive

col-cardboard.livejournal.com

Dark haired, green-eyed pilot rumored to be the sometime-boyfriend of Jaina Solo in a booth with a drink.

No, not him. Or him.

Jag.

You know, the grim one.

Who now has new icons because the mun finally found a PB. Jaina-mun deserves love for making the oh so shiny pretties, yes she does.

So, um. Have at!

jaded-jedi.livejournal.com

Female Skywalker, curled in an armchair.

She's hiding. From what? Don't ask. From who? Don't ask.

But you can come and talk. Just don't ask.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

*Tim is floating in the middle of the bar, his eyes on the door. In his hands is a lock of hair, very familiar looking. Smoke appears to be wrapping around the hair, forming the shape of an hourglass. Theres a good chance he's trying some sympathetic magic.*

half-sidhe.livejournal.com

There's a skeleton in the bar.

Well no there's skin and hair and fiercely burning green eyes. But otherwise? she's a skeleton.

Every ounce of available flesh has been stripped off of her, and some that wasn't even available, and it might be said that she's proven she's immortal by the sheer fact that she's still standing there..well sitting there. Because any mere mortal would have expired ages ago.

Gone is the beautiful sidhe princess.

In her place is a grotesque replica. The bar has produced a broth and a ensure. And she is sipping the drink, but not eating the broth.

Come and say hi.

smallestopener

It was a rainy day in Brittany, and Ingress spent much of it writing letters. One of the House of Arch owls flies in with them, leaving them on the Bar. They are carefully addressed.

( Bernard, Dora, and Sunny )

( Eddie )

( Susan )

( Alanna )

( Cuthbert )

( Faith )

( Arithon )

( Snow, Bigby, Wade, and Millie )

redhorserider.livejournal.com

After her drink at the bar, she decides that taking up a booth is going to be a better idea for now.

She has a fresh dish of cherries and a glass of blush wine this time.

Care for a chat?

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM: Dream or memory]

He takes a booth this time, hiding there with a cup of coffee. Along with the coffee, the bar had provided a three-section notebook and pen. He's been writing in the notebook for a couple minutes; one section for what people have told him, one for his dreams, one for memories. The memories section is blank, so far; not that he's been writing much in the other sections, either. Not yet at least. There might be more if he talks to people. But then if he talks to people...he's not sure he wants to hear what they have to tell.

armoralchemy.livejournal.com

Outside, a little boy is doing a complicated dance - the sort of dance that, when sped up, can kill people.

Al remembers what Sensei said about training the body as well as the mind. He hasn't been training his body so much lately, and he knows that too many milkshakes aren't good, so he's Training. He's a good student. By which it is inferred that he is skilled as well as obedient - for such a sweet, thoughtful kid, he's awfully good at beating the crap out of people.

One day he'll have to be - but not right now. Right now, this is just practice.

sendpeanutbtr.livejournal.com

[OOM: Claire's jounal entry for August 31, 2005]

young_tmriddle

OOM: The House of Arch family on holiday

undignified

At the bar, an almost-forgotten glass of lum beside him, is Wes Janson.

A few seconds ago, he took, as is customary, a sip of his drink and a glance around the bar. Perfectly normal: a reflex sort of action.

He expected to see lots of people, the door to outside, and the patch of wall that's been blank since he got here.

Except, now it's not.

So, if you want to ask why Wes is staring at a perfectly normal door like it's about to attack him, now's the time. Before he realises what it means...

[ooc: mun's here for nine hours, erratic replies possible when she realises she forgot to pack something and runs 'round her room to find it. Wes' last post for a few weeks-- be random! Thread with each other, too! You know you want to.]

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Random's in the bar.

Curled up in an arm chair.

He's got some thinking to do. He doesn't want to actually get any of it done, but he's at least trying.

Please, distract him?

empath-wiggin.livejournal.com

Val strides into the bar, with a folder of papers under her arm, still in her white robes with elaborate hairstyle and silver circlet. Plunking at her usual table, she opens the folder, and starts to scan the papers. Someone might want to bug her. Especially as the mun needs some distraction.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is in the bar, in a booth. He just got up, so technically he is eating breakfast again, although it's pizza and chips, so probably would class as dinner.
Scampi is playing with a clockwork mouse under the table, and Guppy is doing the new Killer Su Doku out of The Times, which he appears to be enjoying.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Arithon is in the bar.

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

Through the back door, one might hear rather enthusiastic curses.

Someone familiar with the Star Trek universe might even recognize them as Klingon.

However, they cut off as the door opens and the Dendromys rolls in...carrying a rather worse-for-wear Naraht. This is no mere eel bite she's sporting tonight. There's a large scrape along her jaw, a long, shallow cut across her shoulder...and her right wrist is swelling significantly.

And the storm that rages outside might provide a clue as to what happened. Her face is taut with the pain as she heads toward the Bar.

Attention, all medical personel!

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

[From here.]

Eddie bursts out the backdoor, equal parts turned on and pissed off. He stomps through the long damp grass and leans against the bar wall and starts punching it.

agirllost

Kim and Angela are back in the bar.

Angela's eating and Kim's sitting with a slightly content look on her face but she seems to be looking for someone.

It could be you.

mogget_cat

*Very white kitty onna barstool, curled in a comfortable crescent of fur.*

*Scritch at will.*

flybywash

The mun is moved in, has survived her first three days of classes, and doesn't have to be awake until two PM tomorrow. Mwahahaha.

Or, to translate all of that into a proper entrance post: Wash is at the Bar with dinner, coffee, and a note. The former two are largely being ignored in favor of the latter.

"But I'm good at worrying," he's mumbling to himself as he reads it. "I've had years to hone it. No sense in letting all that hard-earned honing...go to waste...."

He heaves a resigned sigh and refolds the paper, rubbing one temple. "Tāmāde."

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith apparently slept a little - she looks somewhat less tired than she has been, for the moment. She's at a booth, picking at a rare steak and french fries.

Coffee, this time, not Jack Daniels.

gonna_live

About an hour ago Kaylee sneaked in, went over to the bar, and got a key. Then she went upstairs.

Now she comes back downstairs, returns the key, and gets a beer.

She smells of soap and flowers. Her hair is pulled back; it's still damp.

Sometimes you just want a long, hot bath. Especially when you're living on a Firefly-class transport and can't get one.

leplusbeau

[OOM: Last night, Bill and Fleur talk of death and flats. Warning for naughty icons and FTB.]

gil-whimple.livejournal.com

Wands are low maintenance in comparison to edged weapons or firearms but it's wise to take good care of them if one is likely to need one for offensive purposes.

So Gil uses a little fine walnut oil to polish his then pockets it and goes out into the bar to see if Bastian is there.

Of course, being a sensible faun, he takes a tray to collect empties and writes up that night's menu:

Dear Customer's of Milliways.

Get your kilts on - tonight we're going Scottish ~

Cock-a-leekie Soup

Howtowdie

The Dreaded Haggis

Enjoy.

... before looking round for someone to talk to.

alwaysroomforhope

Steph, perched high up, lurking. Not in uniform, and not in the rafters - she's employing her skaterug as a new way to Lurk. It's silent, it's fast, and it's also just plain cool.

She's just watching people, happily, cross-legged on a flying rug somewhere near the roof. Hi!