milliways_bar | Oct. 11th, 2005

Oct. 11th, 2005

[OOM: Cuthbert, Susan, Alain and Lilly take Paris!

- well. Get taken to Paris. But the sentiment holds. Millitimed to Saturday evening.]

balletrat

[OOM: Meanwhile, tonight, Andrew and Meg have picnicschmoop.]

idle-gentleman.livejournal.com

Whatever time it currently is in Milliways...it's approximately 4am in London. Which is why, when the door opens and Arthur stumbles in, he's a tad...cheerful. But then again, isn't he always?

Still, the appearance is immaculate as always and for him, that's probably the important thing.

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah had made it into the bar again, and this time she'd been drinking. Not a lot, but enough to make her giggly.

This was probably also the reason she had shimmery metalic lightning bolt stickers at the outside corner of each eye, very nearly chartruse glitter eyeshadow and silver holographic confetti in her hair. Probably.

At that particular moment she was perched at a table near the observation window, bare feet swinging, elbows resting on the table, chin on her hands. She also had a blue plastic bag next to her chair with a picture of a castle on it, it was apparently full of small souvenirs that she was looking for homes for.

(~~I know it's late, but I'm awake and have free reign of the compy for another hour or so.~~ I'm gone now. Slowtime tags are fantastic tho! Say thankya)

aj_crawley

[OOC: Letter to Bernard]

conflictedhero.livejournal.com

Bruce is in the bar. He is reading a report on recent developments in gamma and other radiative technologies, ignoring his breakfast which has gone cold.

His eyes rise and sweep the bar occasionally, before dropping back down to his book

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

OOM(Paris): Amanda, Lucy, and Victor: The Resue

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Looking tired and refreshed at the sametime Amanda has a smile on her face. She walks up to the bar and orders a Sundae and takes a seat. Her mind seems to be in Lala land, please come bring her back. She wont mind, I think.

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

Montparnasse is in the bar this morning which is, in no way out of the ordinary. However, after yesterday's doom, he's rather more removed than usual. Sitting in a corner booth, and for once, minding his own business. He's hoping to avoid Illyria, and Fred, or anyone else who saw the fiasco, really.

There's no need to humour this wish, but there it is.

but-i-will.livejournal.com

Darla's in the bar, mainly because her mun doesn't know where either of her pups ended up after yesterday's currently slowtimed doom.

Come talk to her, but be wary of following her anywhere. She bites.

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

[OOM: Naraht finds that there are worse things than traveling coach]

banished-to.livejournal.com

general-lando.livejournal.com

Into the Bar comes Lando Calrissian, unwilling bureaucrat. Why does everything require so much paperwork? But after four days of alternating between recordkeeping and real work, Lando has taken a break. Still, he looks tired, and he's actually left his cape at home.

Come say hi and divert him from the joy of Alliance recordkeeping.

[ooc: mun is busy with many workish things and slowtime is the order of the day.]

macleod_connor

Connor's elevator has been acting like a normal elevator lately, until now...

The doors open into what he thinks is his loft, but he opens his tired eyes to discover...

"Shit."

ie: the bar.

Not exactly what he had in mind. He needs a shower and a change of clothes and to clean his sword.

He sighs and steps off the elevator into the bar.

[ooc: mun at work... responses may be slightly delayed.]

Current Mood: pissed off

locked-holmes.livejournal.com

[OOM: Baker Street 221B, March 1890--One Month

A month locked out of the bar is more than enough to send Holmes whining to the ever-patient Watson.]

inquisitivehero

Hank is in a booth, tapping at his laptop. He glances up every now and then and then back down to the figures on the screen. He looks content.

Lets see how long that can last.

darling-alexi.livejournal.com

"--You know, I think that'll work out perfectly! I'll call you tomorrow to solidify the details, all right? ...Hello?"
('Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life)
Well then.
That'll be something for her to make a note of; most people who appreciate their job security do not hang up on Alexi Darling. As she moves to hang up herself, however, she notices her cell phone is suddenly not picking up a signal.
(Try to make ends meet, you're a slave to money, then you die)
That's odd. She should most certainly be getting a signal in her office. So she looks up, and notices this is decidedly not her office.
(I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down)
In fact...
It looks rather more like a business opportunity.

(OOC: Locked to whatever of the Rent contingent may be around at the moment. She'll have an open post later.)

number-ten-ox.livejournal.com

There's an Ox in the bar, and he's got a great whacking book in his ~~forehooves~~hands.

No, really. When Number Ten Ox went home last time he brought more word back to Master Li, and a few inquiries got made. At last it was determined that Ox should make a deliberate attempt to get back here. And hey, it worked.

Maybe he can find that red-headed foreigner what he was talking about when he tried to tell him about the Fire Drug and the Bamboo Dragonfly...?

http://users.livejournal.com/_perfect_pixie_/

Pixie in the bar, in a foul mood. Bother at your own risk.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

OoM: Tom and Arithon talk after Ingress' lesson.

lore-spinner.livejournal.com

So there's this guy. Except he's not really a guy, he's a spider. And people call him that. Spider. Or sometimes they call him Anansi. And sometimes, well, he gets called all sorts of different things, these days.

This guy Spider, he went up to the bar with a seed in his hand and asked for a glass of water.

He put the seed in the water, and now he's growing elephant ear leaves -- long vines of 'em -- out of the glass.

Every now and then, he twines some of his silk with the vines, and they get longer and stronger.

Someone might want to save the booth before it gets taken into the underbrush.

yami-no-yugioh.livejournal.com

The bar has a practical intelligence that the Pharaoh likes--useful, and not particularly aesthetic, though some people might abuse it to make it so. Yami leans both hands against it and asks, "May I have the cheapest meal on the menu, please." Ramen, apparently, though it doesn't look as if it's out of a package, so that's some improvement over everyday life. "Thank you."

He bows like Yugi would, but only briskly, palms together, then picks up the bowl and the pair of chopsticks provided and goes to take a seat by the fire. Better chairs.

and-far-away.livejournal.com

Sharpe is outside with Danny, training the dog to retrieve. This seems to involve shooting propped-up rag dolls off the target wall, for Danny to fetch.

princess-entipy.livejournal.com

Entipy is down in the bar... She has acquired an embroidery hope and she is hard at work embroidering flowers. She's pretty good at it too... Come bug her.

street-sparrow.livejournal.com

Gavroche comes in through the painting, a skein of thread in his hand.

watcher-g-man.livejournal.com

Mun's done with tests, and got shiny new icons to show off so...

Watcher.
In the Bar.
With a cuppa.
Have at.

jack_inthegreen

It's the green guy again.

He goes first to the Bar and lays down an envelope that has a slight bulge. "Will you see that Thomas Raith gets this, please? And could I have some spiced cider?"

Taking his cider, Jack flops onto a sofa near the fireplace and opens a thick book. Gil working nights plus Jack not needing to sleep equals it's time to re-read The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

( In the envelope is this note, and a small opaque stone. )

~~[ooc: mun is heading home and begs slowtime.]~~

namo

By a window, bathed in the glow of the destruction outside, is a large striped tabby. He is sprawled on a tabletop, comfortable, lazing there somewhere between waking and sleeping. Occasionally, he opens his eyes to glance about the room, their unnatural blue hue disinterested in most.

Námo is content as a cat, and would welcome visitors.

gris_bug_man

[OOM: The team fights for one of their own.]

Grissom is in the bar, in a corner. His head is cradled in his hands and his shoulders are shaking.

He needs Jack.

inquisitivehero

OOM: After this, Hank returns to his room.

always-thirsty.livejournal.com

Thomas walks in, looking perhaps a little less edgy than usual but still oddly sad. He stops at the bar, which pops up for him, of all things, a rock and a note.

He reads it through before taking the rock into his hand.

And while he can't say he's in distress, he does go to look for his new employer.

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

[OOM: In which Naraht impersonates landscaping. Again, more spoilers for _The Romulan Way_]

mahtigwess.livejournal.com

The cookies are... there, somewhere.

Possibly in potentia.

Rabbit's sprawled on a couch, with coffee and cigarettes.

Probably mocking the person typing for him.

jedizekk.livejournal.com

[OOM: Zekk prepares dinner for Tahiri. And blackmails Jaina all at the same time.]

The door opens and two Jedi walk in, each carrying a container of some sort. Zekk glances around the bar, glaring at anyone who seems close to giving him a second glance. He's not entirely comfortable in the frilly pink apron Tahiri's forcing him to wear, yellow flowers non withstanding.

Jaina rolls her eyes as they continue to walk towards an out of the way booth in the back, his paranoia little more than an amusement to her. She stops by Bar briefly to order a couple of glasses of Corellian ale, passing her container off to Zekk to carry the drinks. Finally they sit, placing the containers on the table as they wait for Tahiri to show up.

In the meantime? Feel free to bother them, or poke fun at Zekk's lovely apron.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy comes down the stairs, carrying the kitten, and heads towards the door. He reaches for the handle then stops.
"Don't ever come home. Don't ever phone home. Don't call me. Don't call your mother."
I have to do this eventually. I can't stay here forever.
But I can stay here longer
"She'll have nothing to do with you. How could she possibly love a child who has betrayed his own father?"
He turns and walks away from the door, settles in a booth and puts his sign up.

The doctor is in

"Now you're on your own."

Make his day. Come and occupy him so he has an excuse not to go back to Holby.

mumbling-truth.livejournal.com

Todd had another early day of work in the garden.
He was now in his usual booth, with a notebook nearby.
He was currently reading some Whitman though.

"WHOEVER you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams,
I fear those realities are to melt from under your feet and hands;
Even now, your features, joys, speech, house,
trade, manners, troubles, follies, costume,
crimes, dissipate away from you,
Your true soul and body appear before me,
They stand forth out of affairs—out of commerce,
shops, law, science, work, farms, clothes, the
house, medicine, print, buying, selling, eating,
drinking, suffering, begetting, dying,
They receive these in their places, they find these
or the like of these, eternal, for reasons,
They find themselves eternal, they do not find that
the water and soil tend to endure forever —
and they not endure.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem,
I whisper with my lips close to your ear,"
You, Whoever You Are. from Leaves of Grass

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM: Sin of Omission - After his argument with Nina, Jack can't sleep.]

Jack's sitting under a tree by the lake, hunched down into his jacket. He has the earbuds for his new iPod in his ears, the Oxford Book of English Verse open on his knees, but he's doing more staring out at the lake than reading, and he's not nodding his head along with the music.

No he hasn't spent all night out by the lake. He had to wrap that bandage around his knuckles at some point, after all.

Anyway, his entire demeanour just screams "go away". Like that ever stops anyone, of course.

Current Mood: cold
Current Music: Bruce Springsteen - Devils & Dust

shelley_winters

[OOM: Shelley at her flat in Tackleford]

eternal-boy.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: Nick dreams]

Nick trots downstairs, looking pleased with life and holding a stack of invitations. They're placed on the bar with instructions:

( For Charlie )

( For Faith )

( For Arithon )

( For David )

( For Liam )

( For Connor )

( For Natalie )

( For Gabriel )

( For Eris )

( For Delia )

( For Ophelia )

( For Alanna )

( For Thom )

( For Adam )

( For Vachon )

( For Janette )

( For LaCroix )

( For Fleur )

( For Kitt )

( For Svava )

( For Meg )

( For Richard )

And then he sits at a table with a glass of his dinner and hopes to see a few friendly faces.

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

Montparnasse hasn't been outside for a few days so that's where he is today. He's still avoiding Fred and Illyria, which is stupidly done by spending time outdoors, but he wanted fresh air.

So, dandy walking by the lake, come distract him.

truly-royal.livejournal.com

Sara skips downstairs, very visible in a bright yellow-and-pink salwar and kameez. She gets a virgin pina colada from the bar and sits down at a table, looking around with bright, animated eyes for someone interesting to meet.

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

[OOM: Naraht races to reach the Romulan Senate in time.]

solitashawk.livejournal.com

Shayera inna bar.

Looking dazed.

She hasn't had anything to drink and she's not eating.

She's just sort of sitting there.

Like she can't quite figure out where she is or why.

((Follows this - spoilers for Rann-Thanagar War #5, if you haven't read it yet and/or if you care about that sort of thing at all. Also, yes, I'm back - feel free to pester Shay here, although she may be a bit shaken up... aheh.))

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

It started as reading up on Council procedure.

But the chair by the fire is terribly comfy.

And fixing engines is exhausting.

So, there is a sleeping pyro by the fire.

So pokable!

robinton-harper.livejournal.com

Masterharper Robinton is sitting on a bar stool, harp on his lap and smile on his face.

Zair is nowhere to be seen.

But the song should be distracting enough. It's lovely, and slow, and sweet.

Stop to listen.

galactic-prez.livejournal.com

So there's this, like, Galactic President, right? And he walks into a bar.

...What? He does.

And that crashing sound you may have heard outside? So not his fault. Must have been those zarking mattresses again. Zaphod takes no responsibilty for the antics of the mattresses that may or may not have been ~~smuggled~~ ~~poached~~ stored aboard his ship.

"Hey, hey, home sweet Milliways." To Bar. "Hello, you gorgeous thing. Miss me?"

The rather sizeable drink he gets in response is just the answer he wanted.

shelley_winters

The door opens and a small redheaded young woman wanders in.

It's been months on her end, and the difference is visible. Her hair is longer, she looks as if she's been sleeping, and the faintly visible freckles indicate that she's actually spent some time in the sun.

Shelley blinks immediately at the change, then smiles - with a slight edge of hesitation, but genuinely as she takes a seat at the bar, ordering a cup of coffee and a plate of paradoxes for sharing purposes.

It's nice to be back.

foxy-l33t.livejournal.com

There is a rather soot-dusted Fox curled up on the bar, seven tails wrapped tightly around her. Someone is le tired from scrubbing out and repairing her work room, and is taking a nap. Ug.

Though left with the Bar was an addressed package.

( For Raven )

http://users.livejournal.com/_our_king_/

There was a Ron in the bar. A Hermione, as well.

Hermione was sitting at the bar, a book in front of her, and Ron was standing near her, trying desperately to get her attention, rather like a puppy.

A puppy looking at her with pleading, puppy eyes and whimpering, as if to say "Pet me. Peeeet meeeee."

As such, he was being as annoying as possible, as any attention was better than no attention at all.

He lowered his bony chin onto her shoulder, occasionally sticking his cold nose into her neck (he was acting like a puppy) and read over it (she hated that). As she turned the page, he stopped her hand. "I wasn't done that page yet," he informed her, and then he waited for a very long time, pretending it was taking him ages to read it, when in fact, he'd already finished (she hated that too).

With luck, his Very Clever tactics would evenyually wear her down and she'd pay attention to him instead of her book (which she'd been reading all day).

Come and talk to the two of them, before they either bicker or start sucking face again. Or do both.

weighted-wishes.livejournal.com

There were no doors that opened, no flashes of light to reveal a figure, no sense of entrance at all, but suddenly, there was a Wish in the Bar at the end of the universe. Now, Wish wasn't here to relax, wasn't here to chatter, Wish was here for business. Always for business.

The business of granting of course, and the folk at Milliways were avid dreamers, strong willed and bright. Enough to draw such as now sat at a table.

There was no need for advertisement, no need to call out, for the draw of ones dreams come true is a powerful thing...but that fact should never prevent amusement. So, Wish was blowing bubbles.

Golden, drifting things with worlds within. Worlds of fantasy, of magic, of golden sunlight and unicorns. Worlds of long lazy days and children with the eyes of ancients. Worlds of retribution and ruddy, blood tinted light. Even worlds that remained as dark as pitch, faint screaming audible from the fragile bubble. After all, no one ever wishes for the same thing, and the reasons behind such were as diverse.

Come people...make a wish.

[ooc: please read the back room post before tagging Wish]

the_seafarer

It really is a good sword.

Caspian had been out, sparring with himself--a better idea than the alternative, really, to burn off energy and keep himself from thinking too hard. And now, he's come into the bar proper to refresh himself, laying the sword before him on the tabletop, looking at it every now and again, as if it would have some answers.

It's just a sword. It has nothing to say.

jaded-jedi.livejournal.com

A Jedi Master sits at the bar, sipping at a kyleme, reading a datapad.

Nothing's levitating, for once. She must be at peace in her mind. Again, for once.

Come and chat.

clumsy_auror

The population of the bar just went up one Auror.

...Well, actually, that happened a couple of hours ago, when Tonks came home from work and had dinner with her family.

But now she's out in the bar proper, sitting on the couch by the fire, and writing a letter.

Her brow's a little furrowed.

dalekity.livejournal.com

Dalek is by a booth, doing what Daleks do, which in this case, is sitting by a booth wearing a wooly hat and scarf with a plate of hot bread on the table next to it. You can't say it isn't making an effort.

((Mun is here for an hour or so.))

creator_raven

Somewhere, someone is smoking a cigarette and eating cookies.

That isn't Raven.

Raven is reading a book and eating cookies, though he has tea today, instead of milk.

There's several cups on the table. Clean ones.

Stop by if you like company, or cookies.

Or both.

kitchen_maid

Amy, having allowed herself exactly one day to be glum and mopey in her room, comes downstairs. Tea and company, these things are good and distracting, and so she's scanning the bar for people she knows. Spotting Caspian is a very good thing. Ordinarily.

But her smile dies even before it reaches her lips. Because she has never, ever seen this particular side of her brother.

So she sits down at the closest table, eyes a little wide and full of concern.

Feel free to come say hello, but understand she may be pretty distracted.

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

Jason is draped across a booth armed with a book and coffee.
Come poke him, it'll do him good.

darling-alexi.livejournal.com

Alexi Darling has had something of a trying afternoon.
(If it rings of truth, then throw it out the window)
She's stuck in a bar at the end of the universe, if she wants to take Mark's word for that - and considering the observation window, she's certainly got no reason not to.
(If you need any proof, it's any way the wind blows)
The door has yet to reappear, and from the sound of things, she'll be waiting quite a while for it to do so. She's still not sure what to make of a bar that serves people by itself, either.
(If you're asking me, I'll tell you that I don't know)
And... she's not exactly here on her own. There are people who know who she is. But they seem to be delighting in the bar's tendency to make her flounder, so she might as well be.
(So it goes, so it goes)
Anyone want to come and bend her worldview further?

supersymmetry

After this mess, Fred is in the woods by the lake. If there were a cave around, she'd probably go sleep in it.

As it is now, she's not really all there.

If you can find her, she might talk to you, but don't expect sense out of her just yet.

the_antiangst

Angel inna bar, over by the fireplace, armed with hot chocolate and his notebook.
It's... been a long afternoon.

highking.livejournal.com

Peter comes in from the House of Arch.

He looks gloomy, and rather as if he's not been getting enough sleep. He gets a mug of coffee from the bar and sits at a table, sipping it slowly and scowling at it, a little.

gorlim.livejournal.com

While Namo has been amusing himself in cat-form, Gorlim has spent his time between caring for his wife and daughter, and trying to figure out a way to ease the Vala's pain.

With Gorlim, this has naturally turned into a downward spiral of poetry and alcohol with the added aspect of a pyromaniacal fixation that has led to several burned fingers and an influx of scented wax present on his person.

Now the recently elusive Gorlim is in the booth. He has with him a large book of poetry, a mug of ale, and a lit candle through whose flame he is idly passing his fingers as he reads. The frequent cursing and muttering may be taken as a sign that all does not bode well in the mind of the misguided teacher.

Current Mood: pessimistic

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine's waitressing tonight.

She's not hungover, at least.

Not terribly happy, either, though she can be cheered up.

not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com

Mildly obsessive-compulsive CTU agent in bar, flopped on a couch and quietly singing along to R.E.M. on an iPod.

No, he's not drunk. Really.

But doesn't he look pokable?

maxwellsdemon02

It's getting into fall now, and outside the bar someone has raked up several rather impressive leaf piles.

They're very innocent looking leaf piles. Really. Even though they are juuuust about the right size for someone to hide in.

.....

Muhuahahaha.

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

[OOC: Immediately after this.]

The Door opens and a Horta glides in. But this Horta is rather different from the Horta that left not long ago.

For one thing, the orange of his carapace is shading much more toward red and the grey looks a little more purpleish.

For another, he is slightly bigger...if by "slightly" you mean that he's gone from being a little over a meter tall and weighing a quarter ton to being a meter and a half tall and weighing a little over half a ton. But, trust me. It is Naraht. Turns out Horta have a late adolescent growth spurt. And he's changed in other ways that don't show on the surface except for the way his fringe keeps going from being tightly coiled to hanging limp.

Naraht notices his surroundings, sighs and heads for the Bar. Maybe it's not too early for a graphite or three.

Want to poke the Horta? He's been through a lot and could use some wise counsel.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

There be a Tim, within the confines of the area commonly referred to as The Bar. He is a good Tim, and a relaxed Tim. He is a Tim who is beneath the surface seething with tension. So, he has his sign up.

"WELCOME TO MILLIWAYS, HOW MAY I HELP YOU?"

He also has an overnight bag sitting on the table. He seems to be packing up a nice amount of spell paraphanalia.

susan-death.livejournal.com

There is a severe-looking young woman at the bar, hair pulled into a prim bun, black dress neatly buttoned and pressed.

She has a rather full black bag (something like a briefcase, only more filled with crayoned drawings), and an umbrella.

The umbrella might, if you squint, look vaguely like a poker.

More than vaguely if you're the scissors-monster, perhaps. Or a bogey-man.

She takes a sip of tea, every so often.

You can see her, if you're paying attention. She's not entirely anti-social.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

Very dated OOM, back to last Wednesday, roughly. After Svava and Meg return from Paris, after Arithon is crazy at Archie, but before Raven takes Archie flying, there is-

[OOM: Last Picnic of the Season]

Warnings for smut and mangled explanations of british history and voyeurism.

balletrat

*Meg has been out back, practicing with her gun, for a large portion of the afternoon-shading-into-evening.

After all, she'll never get better if she doesn't practice.

The sun has set, and she's about to head inside, when she sees movement from within the greenhouse, and pauses, puzzled. Anthy doesn't garden in there, these days -

She turns, and heads in.*

[OOC: Warning for disturbing imagery and violence.]

mnt_raph

*It's cold and rainy out on the roof. Cold and rainy never really bothered Raph before...sometimes being a mammal sorta sucks. He's sitting at the bar alternating between black coffee and a tumbler of whiskey.*

lucius-lacroix.livejournal.com

It isn't often that Bar gives LaCroix present with his blood. In fact, She never does. So when his glass of wine appears sitting on top of a note labeled For LaCroix he has a pretty good idea what it will be.

He was expecting this, after all.

But it doesn't mean he has to like it.

He sighs and folds the invitation, slipping it away. He won't forget. And if Nicolas trully wants him there, he will be there. But he won't enjoy it.

~~damned contrary vampire~~

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

Susannah is in the bar. She's got iced tea, a book, and a comfortable chair.

(But then, she almost always does.)

Bliss.

The book is Anansi Boys, and she's not sure how she feels about it. On the one hand, the man can write, she'll give him that. And the world he's created is deep and rich; both the fantasy, and the future she never got to see.

On the other hand... Spiders turning into people. People turning into spiders. The seven-legged spider on the cover. It's a little like picking at a scab.

Still. Bliss.

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

At some point this evening, Montparnasse returns to the bar to have a small cut seen to and get a drink. In place of the drink he receives a note. He looks at it for a moment and sees the room number. That is the important detail after all.

"Thanks anyway, Bar." He says, as the drink does finally appear, and heads off toward the stairs.

[ooc: If you want to tag him, use the earlier lake post pls.]

fairest1.livejournal.com

*Snow is in Milliways, making a quick run to Bar for provisions before heading back to the HoA. Catch her quick.*

guppy_sandhu

He has approached the door several times today, but each time cannot bring himself to go back yet.
So Guppy is at the bar, nibbling at some sandwiches that he doesn't really feel like eating. And trying to be fine.
Have at.

empath-wiggin.livejournal.com

Wiggin-Skywalker. Bar. Notebook. Pen. Ink. Tea.

Simply add adjectives and adverbs. Instant entrance post!

queens-darkness.livejournal.com

Doyle is lounging inna booth. He is dressed normally enough for him, black shirt, jeans, and shoes. Snick and Snack are again hidden on his person. His ankle length hair is braided tightly, and is sitting on the booth next to him like a coiled snake. Even slightly relaxed, he seems ready to react to any problem that he deems needs his attention.

At his booth he has a cup of coffee and is people watching. He was true in what he had told Merry. He didn't need to talk to everyone in the bar. Some gave away if they were dangerous just in how they walked and acted.

Come tell him that he's watching too intently. Or strike up a conversation with him. He'll appreciate it. Really.

[OOC Warning: The mun has crashed for the night.]

renevatio.livejournal.com

Lincoln runs into the Bar breathless and leans against it. His hands leave sweat-marks on the counter.

"Bar, I need a censor's uniform from the Merrick Institute. And -- and a paper and pen, please." Both appear at once: he takes a moment to make sure Merrick isn't in sight and that Jordan is safely inconspicuous, and then scrawls a note. "Please make sure this gets to my friends. Sheppard, Wash, Mercutio, Naraht, Christian and Sharpe." He pats the Bar one more time. "Thank you so much, for everything."

He grabs the uniform and dashes into the bathroom. Five minutes later, he and Jordan are gone.

The note reads:

Jordan & I have gone back to Institute. Promise to return not dead. -Lincoln

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

Michael comes into the main bar. Maybe from the staff quarters, maybe through the front door, his player is not certain.

He looks a little tired, either way.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

(OOM: Ace is really not having a good month.)

ladyfirestarter

[OOM: At the Taos installation, earlier this week.]

Charlie McGee walks into Milliways.

This time on purpose.

"Yes!"

lovesnotbroken.livejournal.com

Allison come in through the door to the lake. A Puppy is trailing behind her on a leash. They have just come from a walk. Allison goes to the bar and gets a bowl of water for Triumph and a scotch and soda for herself. She put the water bowl on the floor for the puppy... Come talk to Allison... or the dog.

sai_delgado

[After this.]

She comes back into the bar and heads straight for the couch by the fireplace, with the briefest of stops for hot chocolate-- mayhap out of habit.

Susan curls up there, quiet and thoughtful and with both feet tucked under her. The mug is held in both hands as if to draw warmth from it.

gramarye1971

Merriman enters the bar, and quickly removes his rain-soaked hat and overcoat. As he hangs them up on a (conveniently-located) hatstand, little rivulets of water drip from both articles of clothing onto the floor. Shaking out the long sleeves of his teaching gown, he heads for a chair by the fire, and catches the eye of a passing wait-rat.

'Mulled wine, if you please,' he says to the rat, which hurries off. By the time he reaches the chair the rat has returned, bearing a tray which holds the requested glass...and a fluffy white hand-towel, neatly folded.

Needless to say, the rat receives a larger than normal tip.

the_seafarer

[ooc: After this (still occurring)]

Kiseki and Corella and the other horses don't need care, not this late. Likely all they want, is sleep, and perhaps a few pieces of hay to nibble on during the night. It is quiet, and peaceful in the stables, and no one is about to see tears, or hear words of regret and hope and forgiveness, except these horses, who cannot speak to say.

There may be a suspiciously damp spot on Kiseki's neck, however.

[ooc: Locked, please, to Susan and Amy.]

highking.livejournal.com

Narnia-doom done with for now, Peter is back at his table with a cup of tea and whisky.

He looks less gloomy now, and more solemn. It's... different, if maybe not an improvement.