milliways_bar | Nov. 12th, 2005

Nov. 12th, 2005

gorlim.livejournal.com

Gorlim is in the bar. He still has a bandage around his head, and he's still keeping his hair scruffier than a crow's nest to cover up that fact as much as possible, but at least someone has seemingly brushed the twigs out of it and made him take a nap. No one can get by on THAT little sleep ~~except, as circumstances are proving, Gorlim's mun~~. As a result, Gorlim is marginally less pissed off than he was the last time he was in here, which means he isn't likely to kill you.

However, that may change if you are an Amberite other than Random, who is curiously missing. Gorlim would very much like to find out where he and his pet ~~Fluffy~~ Ramon have got to. But he'd like to talk to anybody else who happens to bump into him. You can never have too many friends, especially when you know that the Dark Lord will be assimilating your lover's entire scope of emotions and memories about you next week, and meanwhile you've got a god going insane in your head.

Current Mood: discontent

ardens-guard.livejournal.com

Prince of Amber inna bar. Again. Man, for someone who had said he wasn't coming back after the first time, he's certainly around a lot.

It's doubtful his disposition has improved, but hey, you never know unless you try, right?

spinningcoins.livejournal.com

Rosencrantz has procured an orange from the Bar.

Seated at one of the tables, feet propped up, he's methodically peeling off the rind in long, spiraling strips, wrapping them around his fingers as he goes. The very tip of his tongue's poking out of his mouth.

It's a good distraction. Maybe he'll even get around to eating his food once he's done playing with it.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM: Act of Remembrance.]

not-a-surgeon.livejournal.com

Bonnie came in to the bar, looking pleased, yet a few thousand dollars lighter. She got her coffee and settled at a table, and then let a set of keys jingle onto the table's surface in front of her.

That was probably, she thought, the most ridiculous impulse buy she'd ever made.

hogwartsbadger.livejournal.com

Helga pushes open the door, stumbling slightly as she steps into the bar. Whether this is shock or surprise at finding Milliways were her bedroom was suposed to be, or if it's just natural clumsiness is uncertain. Perhaps it is a mixture of both.

Helga, always one to look on the bright side, settles herself in a comfortable booth and orders a glass of mulled wine from a waitrat. It returns with the drink before turning to leave, but Helga stops it from doing so.

"Excuse me Master Rat, I was wondering if I might speak with you for a spell, if, of course, you are not too busy..."

The rat blinks in confusion. This is not how these things are suposed to work. The customers place an order, the rat delivers and goes onto the next customer. No one has a conversation with the rats. Untill now apparently.

What ensues is a very one sided conversation, werein Helga asks the rat questions about it's job and then patiently tries to interpret his answering squeeks and gestures.

The poor rat looks increasingly bemused. Come and save him!

trustntheharper.livejournal.com

[OOM: Beka and Harper talk, a few secrets are revealed or semi-revealed, and Harper sleeps at long last...for however long security will let him.]

mogget_cat

*There is an intensely bright pillar of light somewhere deep in the forest. A whirling column of pure light, bright as a miniature sun, burns with no obvious source. It is not happy.*

*Not a good idea to approach.*

*Not a good idea at all.*

*Don't.*

Current Mood: not

tophat-andtails.livejournal.com

The door opens and slams shut loudly. You might just catch a flash of blue as a small figure barrels through, one hand clutching at a top hat perched precariously on a small head.

He doesn't stop to look where he is, or where he's going - therefore the unfamiliar surroundings don't register. He just dives under the nearest table and takes cover, one dark eye peeping out at the door.

If its your legs that Dodger is currently hiding behind, mun apologises on his behalf - as he most certainly won't.

He might steal your wallet though.

redhorserider.livejournal.com

[OOM: War and Famine visit Kuala Lumpur (Millitimed to Halloween night)]

aj_crawley

Crowley's there. He doesn't look too terribly much the worse for the wear, given recent events. Tired, a little, and perhaps a bit more sober than usual, but nothing more. He's flicking idly through a newspaper - keeping up with the times, again - and taking the occasional sip from his glass of wine.

Things are looking up.

[Not plot-locked, per se, but please ping before tagging.]

blue-star-badge.livejournal.com

On a wonderfully bright chilly morning like this, Adric is once again, or maybe still, out by the lake.

He's still got the scarf Bar gave him, and surprisingly he isn't sticking bent utensils together, nor is he attempting to pin down block transfer computations, nor is he practicing.

It seems really that his mind wandered off while he was sharpening one of his knives, as the knife is still in one hand and the oilstone is still in the other. He's just staring out across the lake at the moment though.

Maybe someone should go check and make sure his brain hasn't iced over.

(~~and the mun must go to work, tag anyway though if you don't mind slowtime~~ back for about twenty minutes while on lunch, then patchy tags afterwards while working on dinky projects)

giftedthom.livejournal.com

*In a corner.

Looking tense. Lacking complete sentences.*

empath-wiggin.livejournal.com

The front door opens, in the strange sliding way it has when is is being a portal to a futuristic world. A woman stumbles through the door, dirty, tired, and obviously not in thebest of mental states. She blinks for a moment, then facepalms, shaking her head. Trudging over to Bar, she retrieves pen and paper, along with a towel, to clean her hands long enough to write a couple notes. It isn't long before she finishes them, handing them to Bar, with a few whispered words. Then, grabbing the 'droid to open the door, she trudges out again. If you're quick, you might catch her.

( To Bernard Wrangle, head barman )

( To Max, Michael, or anyone and everyone else from Antar )

( To anyone who would wonder or worry about where Val is )

vaapadmaster.livejournal.com

Back from morning practice, Mace Windu heads upstairs, and after a shower, returns downstairs for his first meal of the day.

Bar introduces him to spicy pundi rice, and he orders a salad with pickles and bean sprouts, and tea.

Vegetarian? Almost.

Feel free to bother him.

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

~~A horse enters a bar and walks over to the bartender. The bartender looks at the horse and says, 'hey buddy, why the long face?'~~

Garion wanders in from outside. Where has he been? What has he been doing? It's anyone's guess, really, but he is followed by a horse. Or rather, Horse. He'd tell Horse to stay outside of find his way to the stables but he has a feeling it wouldn't work. As it is, the horse settles himself to stand at the corner of the bar.

Garion writes the specials up and hopes for the best. He's been hoping to see a few people.DRINKS
Horse's Neck
Sweet Flower
A Walk in the WoodsThen he settles down and waits for orders.

"What'll you have?"

madetomend.livejournal.com

Sally has her boxes of cloth and thread again and she's humming softly as she goes about sewing together a few bits of cloth to make a pot holder or two... or three or four. Come have a seat and talk for a spell!

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

There is a Sarah, she's in the bar, not beading, not reading, not weaving, nope, she's just sitting with a mug of cocoa and watching the universe end over and over and over.

Either that or she's sleeping with her eyes open, hard to say really, why don't you go poke her and find out?

(blah blah blah, few minutes left for lunch, then patchy replies due to patchy projects, so, yeah, tag at will)

mctrillian.livejournal.com

From zero, two.

The door opens and in come Max Evans and Trillian, both looking very tired, but at least dressed in casual clothing.

Not talking, just exchanging glances -- but they probably are talking, and if your name is Michael or Isabel you're probably picking up on the fact that they're discussing lunch, but they're not making any noise about it -- they wander over to Trillian's usual table to talk.

And catch up with anyone who may come by to say hello.

Yes, they know her daughter's gone.

the_antiangst

Angel inna bar, to say nothing of the skirt.
He's at a table, with tea and paradoxes, and still puzzling over what to get Mark for his birthday. He's a couple of steps closer, but still mostly stumped.
Come and distract him.

inquisitivehero

[OOM: Hank invites Catherine over and she makes a discovery which leads to a Question. Then He comes over to meet her mother, and things go surprisingly well. Rated PG-13, with Warnings for showers, schmoop, romance, garden talk, and revisitation of Hank's origin.]

last_adam

[In the cells: Last night, Lucifer shows up for a father-son chat. Alanna stumbles in and collapses. And finally, today, he's let out and he takes Alanna back to her room.]

samael-diablo.livejournal.com

Lucifer is still sitting down, bare feet propped up on the table, balancing rather dangerously on two legs of the chair. He throws and catches one of the black glass chess pieces.

His eyes are closed.

[OOC: Mun is only around for a couple of hours and Lucifer is...not in the best of moods. If your character doesn't know him well already it might be wisest to tag another time.]

namo

Dressed ever the same -- breeches, half-unlaced tunic and bare feet -- Námo returns to his booth.

Sits in the corner, knees drawn up protectively to his chest, unblinking eyes watching those around him.

avonlea-girl.livejournal.com

Anne had come downstairs, looked around, gone into the stables, looked some more, and wandered a bit outside.

She hasn't, it seems, found whomever or whatever she was looking for, however, and so she is back inside now, with a cup of tea, poring over glossy leatherbound books.

Dickens, to be precise.

Every now and again she looks curiously about the room, before resting her chin in her hand and turning another page.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace does not appear to be in the bar.

For those patrons who tend to get a bit twitchy when Ace isn't immediately visible (you wise, wise people), a bit more information:

Ace is outside, by the lake. She had been playing fetch with Magic, a new game for the pup that she's only just managed to figure out. But now the game has changed into something like 'keepaway', as Magic tries to keep possession of her lovely stick, and Ace chases after her, all the while (when not laughing) trying to explain the principle of the thing to Magic. But alas, Magic is a dog, not a shapeshifter, or a god that can sometimes look like a dog. She does not understand English.

Both are getting inordantly muddy, but really, that's all part of the fun.

C'mon. You know you want to get muddy too.

col-cardboard.livejournal.com

[OOM: Jag calls home. Parents are less than thrilled to find out he's still sweet on a certain Jedi.]

f-for-french.livejournal.com

Cordelia Chase enters the bar from the stairs, looking quite pleased with herself, and sits at the bar proper before ordering a chicken salad sandwich and a diet coke.

Please feel free to ask her what she's smiling about. He's only sitting a few yards away.

doc-lecter.livejournal.com

Dr. Hannibal "the cannibal" Lecter walks out and posts the night's dinner specials.

Appetizers:
     Sweet Potato Soup with pumpkin bread
     Warm Rasin Bread

Main Course:
     Red Indian Vegetarian Curry
     Yellow Chicken Curry
     Thai Beef Curry
     Vietnamese Snake Curry
     Lister Curry^*

Dessert:
     Green Tea Ice Cream
     Guiness^R Ice Cream
     Mango and Papaya Ice Cream
          (all ice creams hand-made)

^*His stated favorite curry.

no-devo-quotes.livejournal.com

[OOM: Hey, look, Sonia's got some more angst! A missing day of crzy grief, a suicide plan, and then a new house. Sortof. Plus, bonus whitetext abuse.]

guppy_sandhu

At one side of the bar there is Guppy, who is on his break drinking tea and doing the Su Doku from his newspaper.

A little way away is Abs, who came off the night shift, and is eating lunch having found the only bread left at home had blue fluff on it.

Come poke either, or both.

the_lioness

[OOM: After being released from the cells, Adam brings Alanna back to her room and they talk, but one huge thing remains unsaid.]

hogwartsbadger.livejournal.com

Helga pushes the door open, humming cheerfully to herself, and carrying a small sewing basket in one arms and a heavy, fur lined cloak in the other. The bar is perhaps not the ideal place to start repairing a winter cloak, but then she wasn't expecting to end up here. Her humming only falters for a moment, before she makes her way to a chair by the fireplace.

She cuts a length of strong thread from a reel in her basket, threads it through a large eyed needle and then directs the needle to start hemming the cloak with a muttered spell. She orders a camaomile tea from a waitrat and sips it as she watches the needle carefully, directing it with a wave of her wand when it starts to go off track.

red_notebooks

Jarod's a little busy. He's washing dishes. Sure, he was only told he had to wash the breakfast dishes, but he got so carried away, that he kind of started and hasn't actually stopped yet. He's actually spent a great deal of time conversing with the wait rats and learning about things going on in the bar and behind the scenes. Just little things that the people no one notices would pick up on. Stuff he could get on his own anyway, really, if he wanted to.

But, he's wandering around the bar, picking up glasses and plates and flatware and such and carting them back to the kitchen for more washing.

He's rather busy, so if he doesn't immediately notice you when you speak to him, don't feel bad.

capt_angie

Angie is sitting at a booth eating dinner -some kind of casserole- and drinking from a bottle of Butterbeer.

Company is always welcome.

spooky-shrink.livejournal.com

Dr. Malcolm Crowe is sitting by the fireplace. His usual glass of scotch is sitting on a small table beside his chair. Beneath it is one of the reports on Acute Stress Disorder that he and Peter Venkman have been reading up on, in response to the recent Other-ness.

When Bar gave Malcolm the report, though, it came with a copy of Robert Graves' 'Goodbye to All That,' and the doctor is just starting to get into the first couple of chapters. He has a feeling it's going to be good, if also sad, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't enjoy a distraction or two. So have at.

unique-moments.livejournal.com

Samantha's in the bar, still tanned and with a placid smile on her face as she flips through photographs. Every once in a while she'll tilt her head and giggle.

She looks much like usual, with that silly grin on her face, only dressed in an odd assortment of clothing: shorts, a shirt obviously belonging to Andrew and slippers with cowheads on them.

Isn't she adorable?

deadirishdemon.livejournal.com

Doyle is not giddy.

Really.

But you'd never know it to look at him.

He's sitting at a booth, eating, and humming under his breath, and occasionally laughing for no reason.

Somebody has a happy.

shelley_winters

And by the window, wondering at the nature of the universe... or possibly just staring aimlessly, there is Shelley.

Her dream journal is missing. She's... worried? A little. There was a reason she never let anyone read the whole thing, after all.

But it isn't as if anyone can actually use it - or even understand the context of most of it.

Right?

kingly-auror.livejournal.com

Kingsley.

Booth.

Tea.

Daily Prophet crossword.

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith comes out of her room with a big bag, putting two notes down on the bar's surface and quietly requesting that they be delivered to Andrew and Alanna. This accomplished, she acquires one last cup of coffee and sits at a table, bag at her feet, watching the room.

She's on the way to Antar for a bit. Come see her off?

balletrat

*Meg is sitting at a table in the bar, several pages of paper spread out in front of her, thoughtfully twisting a curl around her finger.

It's her turn to take the brunt of putting together an edition of the paper; that's fair, and just.

It's just a pity she can't spell, is all.*

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah, wearing one of these with these and carrying a few dresses on hangers as well as more than enough shoes to choose from stepped into the bar, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. They had plans after all, and she had every intention of following through. She'd even brought clothes like she said she would!

( mostly for Girl!Magius, but if anyone else wants to ask what she's up to feel free ^_^ )

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

[OOC: So here it is, what Aeryn's been up to in four parts. Crichton wasn't even supposed to be in it *eyes self* Heck, I just ran with it. I'm only really qualified to play Aeryn. Enjoy.]

[OOM: Aeryn finds Talyn and Crais who she convinces to talk to the others aboard Moya. This results in a reunion of friends and a difficult chat. But in the end, she says her goodbyes, at least for the moment.

hands-unclean.livejournal.com

Lady Macbeth is not homesick: that is a humor for the weak of will. But she will not say she does not enjoy the lake, for it reminds her of home.

She had been standing on the shore, half-singing "Greensleeves" to herself, but something intruded on her reverie.

She's looking at you: what do you have to say for yourself?

red-blossom.livejournal.com

The door to the bar slowly creaks open, and in steps in a rather sleepy redhead kindergartener. She slowly steps in, then blinks her large eyes open as the door softly shuts behnd her. What she sees before her is not what she is looking for. "Wait...Where'd the bathroom go?!" She floats up a bit and to the center of the room to get her bearings right.

pee-jee.livejournal.com

Well, look at that.

It's PeeJee! And she seems awfully relieved that Bar decided she could have real clothes this time. Not that Halloween wasn't fun, but... drafty.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

Svava, curled up with a book in a chair by the fire. She did say that she would try to get back to studying, but-

She is rather shivering and staring at the fire insted.

gone_byebye

Ray has been doing most of his work today up in his room, but now he's just about screwdrivered out. So he's found himself a seat not far from the viewing window and he's got a glass of scary green stuff, and dinner, and a couple of books. The dinner's getting more attention than the books, though, so he could probably be interrupted sans trouble.

perfectblue.livejournal.com

Illyria is sitting in her old favored spot near the lake. It's getting cold out, now, but she was never bothered by such things.

If you didn't know better (and most people don't), you wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary about her.

Adaptation is compromise, but sometimes it's the only option one has.

So she's adapting. To the fact that nobody can really know what happened, not in the way she (and possibly one other currently in existence, and one who had been not-her) knew it. The doctors knew some of it, the ones who made their study of mortal brains, but the mind of a goddess is a complex thing, and she was finding it easier to simply (not forget) lose those things which could not be spoken or thought of in the depths of her consciousness.

(This is only the first layer.)

Perhaps she is affected no less, but nobody will know it, not unless they can read such things, or they have reason to guess.

She looks perfectly calm.

And unless you're one of a few specific people, you won't be able to break it.

She is, after all, (after everything) a goddess.

wizard_howell

( OOM: just after this )

"Kingsbury, Kingsbury, how I hate thee..." Perhaps if he backs through the door, Howl reasons, the king's footmen won't be waiting for him, or they won't notice him. "Of course, that's entirely futile. The 2000 pair of seven-league boots were just the tip of the iceberg. Oh, Calcifer, how do I get myself into these... hullo."

This is not Kingsbury.

What magic is this? It doesn't feel like the Witch, but her work can sometimes be difficult to perceive.

Howl turns back to the door with a roar. "SOPHIE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

blond-bubbles.livejournal.com

"Pepsi please, Lady Bar." Bubbles says simply as she sits on the red stool next to Lady Bar, still her her new body. An instant later, it appears in front of her, a white bendy straw on the side of the glass.

With a small sigh, she slowly sips at the soda, her thoughts, unclear.

red-mare.livejournal.com

It grows chill in Scotland early at this time of year, though Jah-lila knows nothing of this. She only knows that this place is cold, and that her coat, while shaggy, is not yet up to the task of wind and cold together. So- not for the first time- she is dragging sticks and branches together into a pile suitable for lighting a reasonably sized fire. Anything greater will have to wait for Kindling.

call-me-ree.livejournal.com

[Out of Milliways: Irene arrives from yesterday. Blame RL woes forcing me to delete the entrance.]

The front door opens itself, and a woman enters. She's close to sixty--maybe right up next to it--and wearing an expensive grey silk dress. She's barefoot, and her pantyhose are shredded.

Beyond the door is the noise and smell of New York City, interlaced with distant choral voices, singing a song of incomprehensible beauty. Then the door shuts.

Irene Tassenbaum returns to Milliways for the first time in four years, and she looks lost and amazed.

[Not plotlocked, although it is plotty.]

sai_delgado

When Susan comes in, she's a little quiet, and mayhap a little tired-looking, but seems otherwise all right.

A short while later, she has hot chocolate in hand, and is drifting across the room toward the couch by the fireplace. She's taking the long way around, in order to stay as far away from the front door as possible.

iwasalevel6.livejournal.com

Over the river, through the woods, from the hills of New England came Tony's mun inna new car. Braving the longevity of Interstate 95, she arrived in the state of Maryland not two hours ago and had seated her hiney in the chair in front of her computer not fifteen minutes ago. What did this have to do with Tony? Well, since mun was I-95'd out, but wanting to RP at Milliways, she threw Tony in the bar and looked at her fellow muns with doe eyes asking if it would be OK to slowtime in case I-95itis bit her too hard and forced her into bed early.

As for Tony, well, he was sitting at a booth reading a newspaper. What else was new?

cywyllog

Cywyllog opens the door, her arms laden with blankets, and find it leads to the bar. She decides this isn't a good time and is about to close it again, when she feels a small figure brush past her and inside.

"No!" She drops the blankets and gives chase, catching up with the culprit at the bar, underneath a stool.

"You are supposed to be asleep." She chides softly, crouching down and holding out her arms. "Come on."

The boy, clearly not tired and obviously pleased with himself, ambles into her lap and wraps his arms around her neck. Cywyllog sighs and stands, then orders a cup of warm milk from the bar. She carries it and her son to an out of the way booth, where she hopes he'll settle down enough to go back home, and to bed, in a few minutes.

fiendsoncue.livejournal.com

[OOM: Someone is about outside the bar...]

goodboyladdie.livejournal.com

Laddie comes into the bar from upstairs.

He is completely naked.

jaded-jedi.livejournal.com

She's in again...this time falling through another door as another blast rocked the ship.

Bar liked to yank her through randomly. Maybe to drunken her up before heading back to fight some more?

But here she is, in an armchair, staring out the viewport, drinking some caff.

Come and chat.

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

After this series of events.

Aeryn stumbled through the door and breathed a sigh of relief to see that she was back. The familiar jolt she got whenever she entered left her a little light-headed and she made her way over to a booth, slipping in silently.

"I'm home...finally."

Welcome her back, or annoy her, anything really.

[OOC: Will be here quite a while.]

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

After Talking to Dr. Stanz Preston has made his way into the bar again, and he's sitting on a bar stool. Every once in a while he looks at his PIU and sighs, loudly.

Teasing, taunting, harassment, kind words. All are welcome. Preston needs to learn to grow a thicker skin.

agirllost

Raking leaves is a good way to forget about a lot of things. Mowing also makes it hard to concentrate. It's almost too cold to continue both of these activities but Kim's trying to squeeze in a little more time before winter.

She comes in from working and orders a hot chocolate, somehow needing the comfort. If you know her well you might notice a slight detatchment from the world but otherwise she seems okay.

Come bother her.

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR, in bar, feeling a little below par.

He's still cranky about the fact that the number of occupants in Bonnie's garage has grown.

banished-to.livejournal.com

Hel is in the bar. Her player sorta has AIM kinda but not really. Please, do ping in anyway.

kindred_spirit

Gilbert Blythe is at a table.

Gilbert Blythe is drinking tea and reading.

Gilbert Blythe is not brooding.

Well, not much.

mogget_cat

*There is a white, tiger-sized cat in the forest, running. He is not happy.*

*He's not hunting anything, really, though might if the right target crossed his path.*

*If you are a friend of his, you would probably be safe, however.*

clumsy_auror

There's the sound of rather raucous laughter coming from a certain table in the bar. Upon closer inspection, it would seem that the Barman and his girl are engaged in a rather enthusiastic game of Exploding Snap.

Everyone's still got their eyebrows, but really, it's only a matter of time.

wer-storm.livejournal.com

There's a Peter.

Inna Bar.

With hot chocolate. Come ~~mooch~~ say hi!

key-youth-bert.livejournal.com

Gunslinger, couch, coffee and a cigarette.

Still business as usual, for a little while longer.

stilljustandrew

*The front door opens and in walk Andrew and Faith, the former carrying a digital camera and a rolled-up street map, the latter scanning the room worriedly. She turns to Andrew with a few brief muttered words; he nods. With a quick hug, she hurries off.*

*Andrew moves to a table, flags down a passing waitrat to order a sandwich, unrolls the map on the tabletop, and pulls out his ubiquitous notepad to make notes.*

*Eight days left, back in LA.*

honest-johns.livejournal.com

Alain sits at a table, nursing a mug of spiced cider.

As is usual these days, he has his back to the front door, and he looks a little distant. A little preoccupied.

un_fallen

Raguel comes in late, and after a quick glance around, chooses his old seat near the observation window. He's looking thoughtful tonight.

mumbling-truth.livejournal.com

Poet in the bar.
Writing, curled up with a blanket by the fireplace.
Hot apple cider steaming in a mug by him, and a plate of pumpkin-ginger cookies
Have at.
(ooc: moving on up... to the evening post)

mnt_raph

*See Raph.
See Raph work extra shift.
Work it, Raph. Work it.

....

Um...wait a minute.
At any rate, please take note of the special T-shirt he's sporting.
On the back, in very large letters, it reads

BABYSITTER.*

river_meimei

The door slides open. Yes, slides; perhaps it shouldn't be able to on those hinges, but physics have always been a bit optional at Milliways, and it's what the door on the other side is doing.

River Tam steps through, looking about herself with interest.

Boots, today, and Roland's too-large duster worn somewhat incongruously over a light dress made of floaty layers of purple fabric.

asar-suti.livejournal.com

Through the front door, a slightly violet deity came, with a wheelbarrow.

Beyond the door, before he closed it, was a mediterranean forest of cork oaks and chestnut trees.

On the wheelbarrow, there was a wild sow, motionless and frozen, as if she'd been hit with a petrificus totalis charm. That was precisely what had happened - apart from the part where Asar-Suti had adapted the spell from swishing the wand and saying the word into a rune.

Asar-Suti wheeled the creature through the bar room and out the back door, where he proceeded to push the wheelbarrow to the edge of the forest where he'd prepared a dump of chestnuts and acorns and apples and bruised fruit from the kitchen.

He very carefully unloaded the sow, placing her right side up (fortunately, that wasn't all that difficult with a four-legged animal), and then withdrew to a safe distance before he took the charm off.

She was very confused for a moment, but then she discovered the food, and seemed to very much like that.

Asar-Suti stayed where he was for a while and watched her.

[[OOC: Plot-locked to Vaii/Teirnan, say sorry!]]

tibetanmethod

There's singing. In Icelandic. And it is -- to put it neatly -- raucous.

The front door opens.

"Diane, it's 2:18 am, and as you can hear, the Great Northern's visiting delegation from Iceland has yet to leave. I received the earplugs today in the mail; they are deeply appre -- "

Special Agent Dale Cooper lowers the tape recorder in his hand and looks around. Then he raises it again.

"Diane, as you may or may not know, dèja vu -- from the French -- translates to 'already saw'. In most cases, those who experience this feeling can't quite place where it is they remember the images or smells or feelings from. This, then, is not a textbook case of dèja vu. It seems I've returned to Milliways."

He looks out the window, and shakes his head a little.

"The universe may be ending outside the window, Diane, but at least there's no god-awful singing."

Clicking the tape recorder off, Cooper makes his way to the bar.

anythingbutblue

Faye's eyes are pink from crying and she's clutching her gun like it's the only thing left that she can trust, but she looks determined when she comes charging through the door.

She stops dead in her tracks, though, and her grim expression slowly gives way to complete surprise as she takes a look around.

She hasn't had any suspicious mushrooms lately.

"What the hell is this?"

kitchen_maid

Amy is up later than usual, it seems, with her sewing and her tea, settled into a chair near the fire, and trying to keep Simon Perryvall from nibbling on the threads she is sewing with.

She'd be happy to have someone to talk to.

Come say hello?

shang-dragon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Upstairs]

If one were to look out back by the lake, they might see a muscular redheaded man practicing a series of punches, kicks, and blocks. Despite the chill in the night air, his skin is covered with a fine sheen of sweat.

Liam is pushing himself.

Hard.

He's been dead a year. He has a lot of time to make up for.