milliways_bar | Nov. 10th, 2005

Nov. 10th, 2005

The lake door opens, and Kaylee comes in. There's a red mark on her face, and her lower lip is cut.

There's blood on her coat. Just a little.

Moving slowly, she takes a few steps into the bar, looking around -- and there, over in a booth -- Wash and Simon.

Kaylee raises the handkerchief -- it's dark blue, with a single flower embroidered in the corner -- to her lip, and heads over.

trustntheharper.livejournal.com

Harper was trying to work on a little machine he'd designed to buffer the gravity flux of the slipstream drive at a table, but his hands shook so much that he nearly kept dropping his tools.

Little lights flashed in front of his eyes, and every so often, shadows flashed past the corners of his eyes.

He heard strange tones of sound coming from somewhere he couldn't place.

Sometimes, he heard a voice whispering to him and he turned and stared over his shoulder with red, bloodshot eyes, but he never saw anyone.

It didn't help that he kept losing his train of thought every few minutes, too.

Harper surreptitiously popped a pill into his mouth and then washed it down with more coffee from the mug at his right, then got back to work.

Sleep was the Enemy. He knew he couldn't go forever, but he could go for a while, right? He would hold it back as long as he could, get a few hours here and there, not enough to dream, not enough to wake up sweating and terrified. He could try that at least, right?

At least until Beka got back. When Beka was let out he'd be safe. Safer.

rockfriend.livejournal.com

The back door swings open with a crash, and Ludo lumbers in, carrying an unconscious Gorlim, who appears to be bleeding from the head.

Don't hurt him, he's trying to help.

"Man hurt", he announces to the bar at large.

thatseemright2u.livejournal.com

[Dream does not take kindly to people messing with Kaylee.

OOM: Jubal Early learns this.]

stbethadettes

[OOM: Earth in 2071]

fearcrow.livejournal.com

[OOM: Scarecrow and Jonathon set things in motion. Millitimed to yesterday.]

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

((Archie leaves a note for Security and all other concerned parties with Bar.))

spooky-shrink.livejournal.com

Shrink. Bar. Coffee! (just to shake things up) Fireplace.

(ooc: slowtiming for those with post-Other distress, etc.)

namo

[OOM: Following the unpleasantness between Random and Námo (warning there for some imagery near the end), there is more unpleasantness for Gorlim, which leads us to a clearing in the woods where a shattered Vala had gone to hide and a determined Man gave chase. Breakage/angst warning accompanies all three threads.]

a-fell.livejournal.com

Aziraphael is sitting quietly in a corner of the bar with a cup of tea. It's entirely possible he's been there for some time, but he's rather adept at avoiding notice when it suits him.

Today, it suits him.

He's not really in the most cheerful of moods.

Current Mood: discontent

giftedthom.livejournal.com

*It's early. Thom pulls a chair out at an empty table.

And just sits there.*

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Sitting by the fire listening to her ipod and trying to read the 'How to Play Sabacc' book she got from Lady Bar Amanda is oblivious to the time or what's going on in the Bar. A half drunk cup of coffee sitting on the table.

As per every morning she is wearing workout clothes. Come and poke her, it'll be fun to see how high she jumps.

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah at the bar, having pancakes, not reading today, though she's got a book with her for later. She's also got her beadbox and some wire, probably going to go back to making flowers.

She's wearing a different sweater today, over her pyjammas, this one was robin's egg blue, complete with speckles, and had a sort of bas relief picture of a lighthouse and cliff on it. The sleeves were rolled all the way up to keep them out of harm's way, since Sarah used enough syrup on her pancakes to float an armada.

Feel free to comment on it, she'll probably just laugh and tell you you should try it.

elrond-healer.livejournal.com

Elrond is in the bar today, reading a large book of lore and dressed, as normal, in Edhel common clothes, his sword strapped to his hip.

He doesn't look up that often, but he is very aware of all that is going on around him.

inquisitivehero

Hank McCoy is at a table near the Door. He is eating a quick breakfast before heading back to the X-Mansion. Meaning a certain value of quick breakfast, one involving pancakes, sausage, ham, eggs, and hashbrowns, orange juice and coffee. Lots of coffee.

He is watching the main area as he eats, pondering the coming day.

slayer_fray

Mel wanders down from upstairs, looking rather aimless, and picks up a bowl of cold cereal from the Bar, along with a cup of cocoa.

After a couple of spoonfuls and a few sips, she starts poking at the cereal listelessly. But those spoonfuls were a start, right?

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

Montparnasse has been here all night. Sitting in the same booth and staring at the same table. He's been glancing up occasionally, mostly to ensure that the door is still there, or that certain individuals are not. It's been remarkably quiet over in his corner. Which he thinks he appreciates.
But a person can only take so much brooding. Come tell him to get over it or, at least, ruin the atmosphere.

watcher-g-man.livejournal.com

Watcher in the bar.
Having a cuppa and brekky.
Also reading.
Over by the fireplace.
Have at.

(ooc: mun will be mostly around, but replies will be slowtimed due to class and such. Wanted to place him in for anybody looking for him. Feel free to tag.)

boundxkitty

Elizabeth is inna booth in a slightly darker corner. She's very relaxed and is reading a book. There is also a cup of coffee that is starting to turn cold.

Come distract her from her book, or drink her coffee, or both.

[OOC: The mun is typing a sociology paper...so she may be a little slow to respond, but she is here.]

Current Mood: bored

lvpd_sidle

Sara is doing what every good CSI will when bored.

She is processing.

Interrupt at will.

[ooc: Slowtime for class.]

still-michael.livejournal.com

Michael and Kitt unwind between cases. Partnerschmoop, with a side of quesadillas.

fell-in-battle.livejournal.com

Dead lord in the bar.

Come say hi.

[Work leads to slowtime. Slowtime leads to love. Love leads to...um...not the dark side. Yes.]

banished-to.livejournal.com

Hel, still in charred clothing, has abandoned her current sewing endeavor and slipped out to the lake.

The leaves are mostly gone, their colors muted by rainfalls and time. This time of year starts to remind her of Niflheim.

She'll go in, soon.

princess-entipy.livejournal.com

There is a Princess at the bar. A cup of coffee appear in front of her and Entipy drinks it having no idea what it is. Bug her please---

gravity_shifter

A petite, red-headed alien is sitting at the bar, swinging her feet and occasionally sipping a chocolate milkshake. It's research, honest.

When she's not sipping, she's drawing intently on a piece of paper, and has a few with other drawings scattered across the surface of the bar. Feel free to ask her what it is.

macleod_connor

Connor MacLeod - at the bar - having coffee and coffee. He's been around, just lurking - it's a thing. He does it. But, he's there.

[ooc: his mun, however, is at work and thus replies may be sporadic]

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Exit, stage left, millitimed to last evening.

Random and Ramon, arm in arm, uncharacteristically solemn, slip through the bar. Random pauses only to drop a note for his son on the bar.

And they're gone.

deadirishdemon.livejournal.com

Here there be Doyle.

At a booth, eating and having coffee.

No booze yet today. Huzzah!

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Slayer inna bar, at a table with coffee, looking vexed - and worried.

Billy's been missing his training classes, and she can't find him to find out why.

It worries her, and she doesn't like worrying.

All in all, her mood isn't good.

Come say hi!

fire-of-mahal.livejournal.com

There's a dwarf in the bar. He's been working on chain mail.

Now he's working on lunch.

And a copy of Gunsmithing: Guns of the Old West, by David Chicoine.

f-for-french.livejournal.com

"ANGEL! I know you're all Mister Demon Hunter MaGee and everything but you cannot smash our coffee pot on somebody's head and expect a happy smily morning the next day! Oh wait! You're not in until noon because--"

Cordelia Chase, the self-proclaimed Queen of Sunnydale High, turns around. And around. She tries it one more time because hey, that fun Sunnydale luck might decide to work for her for once but to no avail.

"Okay this? Not funny. Sooooo not funny. Angel? Wesley? Someone?"

{~~mun is in and out so forgive but I had to put her in~~ that is, mun is for being dragged shopping and will be back soon. LOVELY threads all! *blows kisses*}

samael-diablo.livejournal.com

It's not really a warning unless you know what to look for. Lucifer sits with one bare foot curled under him and the other dangling over the table edge, a cigarette held loosely between two fingers. Ash falls occasionally onto his trousers, and he brushes it away with an absent flick.

You won't see his eyes unless he looks up.

Red is for danger?

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

So a superhero, a goddess and a mathematician walk into a bar.

No, this isn't some sort of joke.

Not really anyway.

Sarah Rainmaker, Anoia: Goddess of Things That Stick in Drawers and Adric are all laughing around a booth

The latter two seem to be getting on quite well given the shared joy of bendy kitchen utensils, the former is mostly just laughing at the things the other two are coming up with.

Go ahead and gawk, you know you want to.

(yeah, not only is the mun crazy, she's also on lunch at work, so, you know, the usual, if you want someone in particular, say so, otherwise just try your luck ^_^ )

collects_ears

There is a troubled George, sitting at a table. He slept poorly, haunted by un-named nightmares featuring disembodied voices raised in anger, shouting words he couldn't understand.. that drove him time and time again into wakefulness.

Until at last he gave up on sleep entirely.

He has a cup of tea in front of him that he has not touched and he is, at the moment, staring off into space.

gorlim.livejournal.com

Gorlim is in the bar, sprawled across the table in a booth. He looks like he probably didn't get much sleep (he was busy trying to put together a model psyche without the directions, or glue, or the little widget things that usually come in the kits with all the pieces). For that reason, as well as for the same reason he has bandages around his head (which he's trying to make less conspicuous by having hair like a scarecrow that's been dragged several miles along the ground tied to a spooked horse), he has the mother of all headaches. And a cup of tea.

And a sword.

He probably won't kill you if you come over for a chat (unless you're Martin), but don't piss him off. Your quality of life will explore new depths of truly deep shit if you do.

Current Mood: cranky

the_antiangst

Angel's at a table, with some hot chocolate and his notebook. There's nothing particularly doom-filled on the horizon, not as far as he knows, he's just... trying to figure something out.
Namely: So what do you get a bohemian filmmaker who can afford everything (even if he doesn't want it) for his birthday?
This is not so easy to figure out as it sounds. Angel's mostly drumming on the notebook with his pen, he's so stuck for ideas.
Come and distract the skirtboy. He may not go into details on what's on his mind, but he could use a distraction.

not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com

Castle's in the bar, bearing a laptop that reads "Property of Adam Kaufman" and a kitten who would like to claw Adam Kaufman's eyes out. But Adam is not around, and so Lee is lounging about in a booth, kitten on lap, intently playing some computer game that involves blowing things up.

Come chat with him!

http://users.livejournal.com/leap_of_faith_/

Maureen pushes open the door which apparently leads to the bar, walking backwards inside of it. Where was Mark anyway? Oh well, quick trip to the restroom and then she'd eat his food and wait for him to return. Because, well, what else was there to do. But as soon as she turns around she realizes that this was not the place she thought it was. "Whoa."

and-far-away.livejournal.com

Sharpe is sitting in an armchair somewhere, Danny the dog lying at his feet.

He hasn't been sleeping well, and it's starting to show.

blond-bubbles.livejournal.com

Bubbles sticks out her tongue between her teeth as she concentrates on her coloring. Her feet, kicking lightly as she sits by Bar on a red stool. So far today, she has made a couple of pictures, like this one, and this one. She is currently on her best masterpiece, in her opinion. A coloring with her beating up Mojo Jojo.

Come by and poke her. She may need a break.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

Michael is in the rafters again. He's not fretting so much as just thinking. Remembering. Where he is, where he's been, the people he's called family...

He'd be happy to talk, if anyone wanted to. Might even come back down to floor level.

perfectblue.livejournal.com

Illyria is out by the lake.

Things to notice about her:

Well, nothing. Outwardly.

If you're an empath of any sort, you might notice a whole mess of confusion, anger, hurt, shame, and attempts to suppress all of the above. Except the anger. Anger she's okay with. She might have been killing demonbunnies with wild abandon this morning.

Or maybe she's just been sitting here, staring out at the lake.

It's the one place she knows the vampire can't be, at least for now. She hasn't decided yet whether or not she's going to kill him, much less forgive him. And she doesn't yet know that trying to kill him would mean Very Bad Things for her, because she isn't really concerned with that Oath she took the other day. She'd just wanted her powers back, and having gotten them, she's not really thinking about much else.

Tag her carefully - she won't hurt you if you're anyone other than the aforementioned vampire, but she's rather breaky.

namo

A slightly saner Námo is seated in a booth.

The very back corner of a booth.

No tea, no books, and he is dressed in rather basic clothing -- soft breeches, long sleeved tuic, bare feet. Legs are drawn up to his chest, chin resting on his knees, and he keeps his eyes on the passing people.

[OOC: Meeting new people is probably not a wise venture at this point -- if your pup knows Námo, good; if not ... well, he probably won't make much sense at all.]

not-broomboy.livejournal.com

[Enter a BOY with a BROOM]
'And thereby hangs a tale.'
He is thin (and sharp).
'That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,'
He is tall.
'Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height,'
He is not green.
'To grow a man, you must not only plant a child, but harvest it.'
But it is her Broom.

He looks to it now, to the broom in his hand. His eyes focus on the growth, on the damage now repaired. What once was burnt now holds buds. Growth. Change. Where is he?
'Elphaba lives'
"For some reason, I don't think I'm in Oz anymore."

csi-catherine.livejournal.com

~~Fireball~~ Catherine in the bar, sipping at a drink. Have at.

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

It was a simple assignment.

The Liberian night was dark with a half moon peeking over the treetops. Partridge was somewhere behind him (Far behind him. Remaining with the confiscated EC-10 material)
Preston paused, taking the time to reload both 9mm berettas and pushing back the handle before moving swiftly-silently-through the abandoned building.

It had once been something called a "Wal-Mart" And even now he could see the faded outline of the logo on the wall, shopping carts pushing back and forth in the gloom...

Preston did not feel, yet he breathed a sigh of something that might have been relief when he heard the boots of the sweepers behind him at the enterance.
"Cleric!"

There he was.
The offender raised his gun-then his eyes went wide and he ran.

There is only one logical solution to an action in liberia, when facing down a cleric of the Tetragrammaton. Run. Like. Hell.
Preston, following his only logical recourse bolted after him.

The door-at the end of the warehouse-the offender bolted through it and Preston raising his guns as he did so. Without thinking he pushed inward, the automatic lock giving way and setting off a firealarm that echoed through the nether like a scream long dead-

And into a bar.
A bar full of people.

Surprise is not an emotion that clerics can feel. It is considered one of the "Dizzying highs" supressed with the masses's opiate, Prosium.

Therefore Preston's forbidden bought of emotion lasts only a second as he drops to the ground, retrieves his weapons, and watches-cautiously-for any resistence, or for his quarry.
The door closes behind him with a click.

Welcome to Milliways Cleric Preston.

[mun has to slowtime in about a half an hour for work but she'll be back/respond to any tags/play wif anyone. I am SO excited. Thank you mods, thank you thank you, thank you.]

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

[ooc: Bernard and Adam have a talk. Letter to Aziraphael enclosed.]

poetperry.livejournal.com

There is a young actor in the bar, he's curled up in a comfortable chair close to fire and under a warm blanket. The chill in the air cutting right through his slim form. He has a large book in his lap and is reading it with a wistful sort of smile on his face. It happens to be a copy of "A century of Verse".

Come give him a poke, he always has a smile.

[ooc: Wanted to put this tag up, I have to head out to a drs appointment but will be back in a couple to pick up tags.]

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

It may be hard to fathom why Indy is downstairs on the first Naked Thursday since Mel's return... but, he is.

Mel's been out and about most of the day, and Mike's been enjoying the naked time renaissance just a little tooooo much for Indy. So, he's at the bar with the familiar yellow legal pad (of doom), some coffee and a slice of pie. No prizes for guessing what flavor it is.

He's making a few notes here and there, but, short of a full Chippendales rendition performed by the list of male (and female) names on the pad, nothing else that might cheer Lilly up seems to be suggesting itself.

Indy still sees her unhappiness through the façade, just as Mike and Mel probably do, though her brave face is definitely improving. Unfortunately, even the strip routine idea seems to border on bad taste under the circumstances. That, of course, is why it's so appropriate for Lilly...

deserved_it

Who knew there could be so many fairy tales?

Besides everyone except Eustace, who's by the fire with tea, now working his way through The Brown Fairy Book.

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Spooky?]

Guppy comes into the bar, pausing to peer out of the door rather cautiously before he shuts it.
No, just imagining things.
He goes and gets a cup of tea, which he sips quietly as he watches the bar.

[ooc: ~~Mmm, food. Back in half an hour.~~ Change of plan, have been invited to go and watch Chicago with someone down my corridor. Back later. Will pick up any tags then.]

creator_raven

Somewhere in the bar there is a booth.

In this booth there is a bird.

He looks cheerful, though a little tired.

There is a cigarette in his hand, and occasionally he takes a drag.

Also there are cookies.

Anyone who knows him is probably surprised.

giftedthom.livejournal.com

[OOC: Obligatory OOM.]

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda is sitting in a booth by the back door keeping her eyes open for a certain Watcher. She is drinking a large glass of orange juice.

seker-pride.livejournal.com

[OOM: Strahan makes another attempt to learn the shapechange, with slightly better results...

EDIT: So much for slightly better results. It appears that Asar-Suti has to once again fish Strahan out of his latest jam.]

Current Mood: productive

armoralchemy.livejournal.com

A table in the corner of the bar has been turned into a makeshift laboratory. Al has asked for a microscope, petri dishes, tweezers, fresh slides, a light, nailclippers, a pen that can write on glass, and a notebook, and bar has complied marvelously. In one of the petri dishes is a small fingernail, from which Al is cutting a small sample with the nailclippers.

It would be useless to try and fit gloves over his hands, so he is merely being as careful as he can not to contaminate the slide with debris that has collected on his armor. With the pen he inscribes an array on a slide, and deposits the sample of Bubbles' fingernail in the center. He places another slide on top and puts the whole thing into the microscope.

For a while he looks into the microscope, writing complicated notes in his notebook. Then he carefully places two large fingers on either side of the slides, and it glows.

Alchemy is the science of creation. In order for there to be creation, there must be destruction as well. That is the second step of alchemy; breaking matter down into its basic componants so that those can be used to create something new. He does it every time he changes one thing into another, so it is not difficult at all to do it now.

Al leans over, and looks in the microscope again.

What he sees keeps him there for a long time.

the_seafarer

Caspian comes into the bar, rubbing his hands to warm them, and looks amused as Bar produces a cup of tea and a sandwich.

"Point taken," he says, grinning, and settles down at a table with a leather bound book that he seems to find very interesting indeed.

slayer_fray

Mel's still in the bar. Sometimes in the rafters, sometimes outsid, soetimes actually on the floor. Her movements are erratic because, well, she looks to be fidgetting.

Right now she's in the rafters. Cartwheeling form one end of one to another in a movement that looks like the Slayer equivalent of pacing restlessly.

No reason, she's just bored.

Yeah, that's it.

no-devo-quotes.livejournal.com

[OOM: There's a dream, and then a non-dream, as Sonia finds herself inescapably driven from her hometown by forces beyond her control. Warning for mild violence.]

kessel-angel.livejournal.com

Lujayne's sitting in an armchair, watching the Universe explode--in almost the same exact position her sister was in a few days ago.

How...eerie.

She's got a glass of some sort of juice, and a datapad with the news on it from the day of her death. Bar's funny like that. Hunh.

95-tan.livejournal.com

Yay, clothing! Windows 95 is happy to be warm and decently covered, even if it's by a sweater and short skirt and tights instead of a kimono.

She's doing her usual thing these days- writing in a notebook. But she's not so diligent that she'd refuse any sort of company.

~~[OOP: ZOMG FOOD. Shall return in about 30 mins (a bit after 8, Central time)]~~

Current Mood: calm

http://users.livejournal.com/_venus_de_milo/

Long time no see!

There is a crazy blond in a too short skirt standing on a table. Yes, standing on a table.

She lost something in the light fixture. Don't you do that every day?

"Here sake bottle, sake bottle, sake bottle! Come to Mina-chan!"

the_lioness

*Alanna exits the staff quarters with a thoroughly bemused expression on her face. She glances around, eyes lingering on various people, and makes her way to the bar where she orders a large cup of coffee and dinner. The food is mostly ignored in favor of caffeine.*

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

It's a good thing the crew had gotten so much done the day before, as both Ryan and Elaine were rather late coming out to the worksite.

There were about twenty windows left to put up.

"Sorry I'm late everyone," Elaine said cheerfully, and her cheeks are red, either from cold or from the reason why she was late. "I think we know what to do now, so let's get to work!"

[OOC: Sign up here if you haven't yet and your pup wants to help. If you've signed up, just tag the post; people can converse with each other, or Elaine, as you like. There will be one more post on Friday; and if you don't tag, it's assumed that everyone who signed up, showed up. Thanks, and have fun!]

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

Jason is lounging in a booth, picking at his dinner and watching the patrons.
Anyone care to drop by? He looks as if he could take some company.

theravenboy

Bran Davies has not brought flowers, today. Flowers are hard to find in Wales this time of year. He has brought his harp, however, and his knapsack, and it is quite possible that his knapsack contains some interesting poetry.

not-like-lilly.livejournal.com

*Petunia is in the bar, knitting away contentedly. A red and green afghan this time; she figures there might be someone she'll want to give a Cristmas present to.*

long-neck.livejournal.com

*Bebe sauropod inna bar! Mun could write that out, but feels that's more of a wee and adorable form, appropriate for the pup. Regardless, he's wandering around and looking for friends, both old, new, and not yet met.*

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

Montparnasse is back downstairs for a while, he intends to head home tonight at some point though. Oh course, he discovered, this morning, just how well intentions play out around here.

He's not quite as solemn as he was earlier, having slept and had time to think.
Really he almost looks annoyed. It's a vast improvement for him. Therefore, he may seem a little more normal, so long as you avoid most subjects.
~~But hey, everyone loves discussing the weather, right?~~

gone_byebye

Last night was the night for watching the window. Today, maybe not so much. Today Ray has his usual Big Glass of Green Stuff, and he's reading a book on the training of gun dogs, and is surrounded by several other books on animal control and animal psychology.

Outfit by Thinkgeek. You can probably fill in the details without too much trouble.

buriedmybrother.livejournal.com

Antigone has come out of her room, but she's not in the bar proper. Instead, she has taken her tea and the quilt off her bed to a tree by the lake. She sits with the blanket wrapped 'round herself for warmth, watching her breath fog before her. Watching unfamiliar stars twinkling in the cold sky.

liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com

Liz Imbrie has the glow of the well and often laid in her eyes. And printer's ink in a smear on her cheek. And a glass of whiskey and soda in front of her. Next to a camera, with a curious amount of rice wedged into the various crevices of it.

The girl's well-stocked.

((OOC: I swear I'm on AIM, though it keeps trying to kick me off. I swear.))

perfectblue.livejournal.com

Illyria is, you guessed it, still out by the lake.

Still various kinds of broken.

If you catch her unsuspecting, you'll see her staring at her left hand, which is free of the armor that usually covers it, and examining the small silver scar on its palm. She's found that she can make it disappear, but it is an effort, like changing her appearance is. She supposes that's due to the fact that there was magic involved that it didn't just heal entirely, and it doesn't really bother her, if only because too many other things are bothering her at present.

For those playing along at home, in the space of the last month, she's been betrayed by her one follower, went home only to lose most of her powers, came back and had the rest of them taken away from her for a short time, was cursed to live the life of a mortal, and woke up post-curse to get her ass handed to her on a plate by one short grumpy sorcerer. And that? Is the short, pretty version.

The less pretty version... well, good luck prying that out of her.

Her mun doesn't really know how she's fixing this one, so uh, help her out?

pat-rin.livejournal.com

The front door opens, and a small, dark-haired man steps through.

As he crosses the threshold, he looks up sharply. A watcher might observe a small pistol appear in his hand. After a fast but searching look around the bar, the man steps backward through the front door . . .

. . . and, a moment later, steps back into the bar. He tries this once more before sighing, very quietly, making the pistol vanish, and looking around.

Would anyone care to explain to Pat Rin why there's a bar where his office ought to be?

OOC: a mun introduction is in the backroom.

capt_angie

Angelina enters the bar, via the front door. Her cheeks and nose are flushed red from the cold wind blowing outside.

She heads to the bar and orders a hot-chocolate, which comes topped with whipped cream and a flake, and a slice of banoffee pie. Yummy!

She takes her goodies to a sofa by the fireplaec and gets comfy before she takes a sip of her drink. As soon as she does, smoke starts billowing from her ears. Bar has decided that since she was out in the cold, she needed a good dose of pepperup potion to stop her getting sick and slipped it into her drink.

Angie lets out a string of unladylike curses when she realises.

And so there is an annoyed, steaming (literally) witch sitting by the fireplace. Erm... come say hi?

but-i-will.livejournal.com

Darla.

Inna bar. Drinking blood, looking predatory.

That is all you get, because mun is trying to deal with other pup's breakage, but will welcome tags in order to get the breaky voices out of headspace.

Yes.

Darla. You know you want her.

valehero.livejournal.com

Isaac inna bar. She has fallen asleep in her booth on her side, arms and legs crossed with feet hanging off the end of the booth. At least her skirt has managed to keep down just enough to hide her hips and unmentionables.

Come and wake her up.

backwardname.livejournal.com

"... it's really not funny, this time."

Campbell and Judge walked in straight from the courtroom. Again, apparently.

He knew he'd get distracted from the case in Milliways.

But. Time to review it? All better. This helped, a bit.

So, man and dog found themselves a booth - their usual booth, with both of them sitting on one side together, the other side uninhabited - and did some of their work.

They also both looked rather bored, and would not really have issues with interruptions.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is in the bar, in a booth, playing chess with himself. But he will gladly reset the board if anyone else wants a game. And he has his sign up.

The doctor is in

Have at.

last_adam

[In the cells, early today: Adam gets put in the cells by Raph. Morgan stops by and they get into a fight. Bernard wants to know why Adam did it, but Adam's not telling. Raven helps him calm down a little, and both he and Bernard agree to look after Alanna. Finally, Alanna stops by for some woe and evasion before Adam finally gets to sleep.]

kitchen_maid

Amy has come downstairs, looking more genuinely rested and cheerful than she has for several days.

She has tea and a plate of small assorted tea sandwiches, not all of which she is entirely certain she recongizes the fillings of.

She'd welcome company.

Come say hello?

kindred_spirit

Gil has spent most of the week either helping to repair the greenhouse, or trying to focus on his books in his room.

But tonight he's here, at a table alone, ignoring the dinner in front of him and absently flipping the pages of book.

Feel free to come ask him what he's reading, but don't be surprised if he's not entirely sure.

grene-gome.livejournal.com

[OOM: The Green Knight fulfills his vow to Morgan by sending a dream to Arthur Pendragon.

The link contains pictures; the same dream is also available without pictures.]

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace at the Bar, with a mug of cocoa and a small metal box that she's fiddling with. Maybe she should have looked at the user's manual before starting this project?

ash--evildead.livejournal.com

OOM (millitimed to Wednesday night): After Lilly's release from the cells, Ash and Sheila come to an understanding. Warning for angst and gratuitous use of baby icons.

wolf-baby.livejournal.com

*A small . . . well, okay, large, but young wolf-child leaps through the painting portal from the House of Arch. She looks around and grins to herself, then moves through the bar, looking for friends.

Someone learned a new word today!*

windbaby.livejournal.com

*Wade gusts through the painting portal shortly after Millie arrives, and looks around with a grin. He gives a happy squeal and does a loop-the-loop around a rafter before looking around at a more appropriate level.

He's simply here to make sure his sister doesn't get in trouble. Really.*

the_lioness

[OOC: Ye old Security staff meeting, millitimed to earlier this week.]

shadythief.livejournal.com

There's no moment of transition - one second there's a prime piece of territory empty at the bar, the next there's an elf leaning up against the polished wood, smirk and twinkle in place.

Normally there'd be a drink in front of her, and a curly-headed kid or two around to take her mind off of things, but tonight she sits for awhile before starting in on her purple liquor.

Shady rests her chin in her hands and gazes around at the general chaos. Her hair's half free and trails down past her boots, swishing gently with every movement. A study in black and green who's studying nothing at all, really.

ardens-guard.livejournal.com

There is a Prince of Amber in the bar.

No, not the cocky short blond one. No, no the tall dark cagey one. And no, not the lanky blond one that swears like a (pretty intelligent) drunken sailor.

This is a whole new variety. Want to try and see if you like the flavour?

thatseemright2u.livejournal.com

Early's eating. Grinning, too, but his fingers are tight on the chopsticks, and his arm moves mechanically. Jerkily.

gooddoggromit.livejournal.com

See that figure huddled into a trenchcoat and hat at the far end of the Bar?

That's right, him. The one hunched over a virgin pina colada and looking more hangdog than you'd think was possible.

Gromit is showing his face in Milliways for the first time since Halloween. He knows he has a few apologies to make, and he knows some people may or may not be more forgiving than others. Particularly if you're the owner of the large wooden club now propped against his stool. It's been gnawed to within an inch of its life by a very large dog. It might make you curious.

Go on, give him a poke before he runs away again.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

Jack's sitting in his favourite chair by the fireplace. He's been a little scarce the last couple days, but careful observers may note that he's lost that dazed look he'd had in the days after the fight with the Other.

Though the remote possibility he'd be in a good mood was dashed by seeing a certain note on the Security bulletin board.

Fucking Milliways.

mediocresaint.livejournal.com

Salieri has not been in the bar for a good long time. There have been wars, and he found it... difficult to summon up the faint muse that might allow him back.

The death is weighing more heavily on his mind these days, but it's still easy enough to push the thought far, far back.

Salieri is in the bar, with a tokay, and a smile on his face.

gorlim.livejournal.com

Gorlim. Inna bar. With tea. Still headachy, but less likely to kill you if you piss him off. At least, less likely to kill you QUICKLY. He might do it slowly.

It's anyone's guess, really, whether that's better or worse.

But come talk to him anyway. He WOULD like company, and he doesn't hit girls (even if they're really irritating), and he always likes to meet new people -- ESPECIALLY if they're people with the presence of mind to tell him what Asperin is.

Current Mood: grumpy

nita_callahan

[Millitimed to Nov. 7, upstairs: Nita tracks Kim down and effectively melts her brain by telling her about the Doomy Prophetic Dream.]

no-comb-shep.livejournal.com

Sheppard comes down to the main bar, and promptly heads over the Bar herself, coming away a moment later with a beer and the sports section of a newspaper. He settles in a booth, but every so often he glances up, keeping an eye out for anyone he recognizes, or anyone who catches his attention. He wouldn't mind the company.

avonlea-girl.livejournal.com

Anne comes down the stairs, humming softly to herself, and crosses to the bar for tea.

She might smile when she sees a familiar figure, but doesn't walk over immediately, feeling a bit cautious after Halloween.

Still, her smile is very bright.

goinghost.livejournal.com

The white-haired, green-eyed, scrawny boy in tights that was suddenly flung through the door had obviously just come from a fight of some kind.

He was battered, bruised, a bit bloody, and even if he hadn't been when he'd first been flung in, when he smashed through a chair and two bar-stools and skidded to a stop against the Bar itself, he was certainly unconscious.

The door slammed shut, leaving Danny Phantom, half-ghost and boy superhero, in Milliways bar.

...Somebody might want to poke him with a stick to see if he's alive.