milliways_bar | Dec. 5th, 2005

Dec. 5th, 2005

For some time now, out beside the bar, there had been two specific metallic shapes. One large and brushed-bronze, softly humming as a wireless connection transferred and built data between the darker shape below. Mirror black and smaller, the car was silent but for soft whispers that matched the motion of the red light that tracked back and forth at its prow.

Michael had made it an order that Kitt talk to Eddie, try to work with him to adapt his code to give himself more protection, so Kitt had done it. It had been his idea, but with an order, it became necessary. At last, both came inside, Kitt looking slightly dazed and Eddie looking satisfied.

"Coding has certainly changed in twenty years," Kitt murmured, one hand pressed to his temple.

"I would expect it to," answered Eddie, his voice more neutral and unaccented.

"So did I," said Kitt, "but I wasn't quite aware how much. Would you like a drink with me?"

"Nothing alcoholic."

"Oh, of course not." Kitt waved the idea aside. "But as it's cold outside, perhaps hot chocolate?"

Eddie tilted his head. "Hot chocolate?"

"...Dear heavens, we must get you educated."

eldorne-girl.livejournal.com

[there are disadvantages to drinking heavily]

[namely, hangovers. Thankfully, Delia is almost over hers, but the green-eyed flirt is still feeling somewhat miserable]

[of course, Roger could have something to do with that, too. He nearly always does]

timsbooks.livejournal.com

((IM: Tim dreams. ))

Tim is seated at the bar, a hot cup of tea in his hands. He looks rather better then he has the last couple of days. Which is a good thing. Hopefully. Either he's coping, or he's repressing. Both of which could be devestating, although one in a much more 'Mad Mage Destroys Bar' type of way.

But thats not to say you shouldn't say hi.

river_meimei

River's in the bar. She's curled up in an armchair, legs tucked underneath her, leaning against the chair's wing.

The chair has a good view of the bar. Both doors.

She's glancing around, every so often. Keeping an eye out for someone, from the look of it, though with River it's always hard to tell. Maybe she's just watching things no one else can see.

sendpeanutbtr.livejournal.com

[OOM: After talking with Jack, Claire gets proof.]

sheila-nagig.livejournal.com

She steps in from outside with a shiver. It's cold, being a tree and being snowed on, so she quickly settles herself into a couch at the fire with a mug of peppermint hot chocolate.

Mmm, toasty.

The smell's intriguing. Really. Come talk to the pregnant goddess. It's a limited-time offer!

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

[OOM: Millitimed to a few nights back, Ron and Harry loaf in the cells and talk to Tonks, Ron tells Zor what happened the other night, and then talks to Raph about killing.]

ectnotert.livejournal.com

"This place is weird"
-S. Dali

It was rather interesing. It seems that the rooms come stocked with a wardrobe as well as the usuual acouterments. So, I was finally able to get myself a new outfit. Basic black, because, well, I look good in it darn it! But, on to the important things.

"Bar!"

And I slap my hand down on the surface, just to make sure I have her attention.

"I'll have a large mug of beer."

And just like that, a mug of beer appears. Not really, a large one, just one of the ones humans like to call large.

"No, no, I mean a LARGE glass."

The mug vanishes, to be replaced with a mug about the size of my head. Which isn't to say I have a big head, but it's larger then the average humanoids. I can't help but shake my head again.

"Thats kinda closer, but to me, that's a size small. Try again."

This glass vanishes, and for a moment, there is nothing. The Bar probably hasn't run into someone with my thirsts before. And thena beautiful thing appears. A metal mug, filled to the brim with beer, a good four to five feet around, and three feet deep. Now that, is a mug of beer.

"Thanks."

I take my beer and turn to the room, looking for someone in the know, or possibly distracting.

iustus_rex

[ OOM: Edmund and Kitty, ~~sitting in~~ setting up a tree... ]
[ Takes place roughly 2 December, or whenever Kitty brought the tree in. ]

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

As usual Amadna is sitting on the couch by the fire reading a book. There is a cup of coffee and some pastries sitting on the table by her.

Come poke at will.

inquisitivehero

Hank is at the Bar, working on his laptop and a few clinging snowflakes showing that he has come in from the snow recently.

He is drinking from his large steaming mug of coffee and watching the bar between sessions of typing.

The smile on his face shows he is quite content and open to talking.

fourth-of-three.livejournal.com

It has taken two whole days to get used to, and become comfortable around, the bar.
He is still holding out some hope that he will soon wake up from this unfortunate dream
In the meantime, he is people watching and wondering if the women are truly that much more amiable than the men. Not that the young Gascon would think to complain.
Come distract him, but be gentle. While he is rather easy to unsettle, he is also quick to anger.

magius-unlocked.livejournal.com

[OOM: Militimed to last night: Magius stretches his magic and performs an act that changes him]

Magius is sitting outside on the bench in the garden area. He is watching the whole back area, but his gaze often wanders down to a small, brown, lopsided flower. When his eyes touch it, they are filled with a wonder and tenderness and he smiles softly.

He is in a good mood and wouldnt mind being interrupted.

silverageflash.livejournal.com

He's making a list. He's checking it twice. And he has been known to dress in red.

But he's much younger, doesn't have a beard, or a sleigh, or a elf workforce at his command. and lacking x-ray vision and super-hearing, he doesn't know who's been naughty or nice (which around here is a blessing).

It's simply Barry sitting at the Bar, making a list of the friends he wants to get gifts for.

Come say hi and beat the X-Mas rush (or, if you are from Earth 616, the X-Men rush).

[ooc: mun will likely have slowtime, and should apologize for not resisting the above pun.}

last-human.livejournal.com

One might think it was a little early for Dave to be eating breakfast.

This is true, it is.

But he's not eating breakfast, is he? He hasn't been to bed yet.

And he's sitting with his feet on the table next to a can of beer, reading a comic.

lvpd_sidle

Bah, humbug doesn't precisely describe Sara's mood. Feliz Navidad doesn't as well.

In an attempt to distract herself, she is working on a gift list for the upcoming holidays.

Someone might want to tell her that legible writing will greatly assist her endeavors.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy comes out of the office. He looks pale and very tired as he heads straight to the bar.
"Coffee and a bacon sandwich please bar. With as little grease as possible no offence to cooking intended."
What appears is what he asked for, plus a satsuma and a bowl of porridge. He puts the satsuma in his pocket and begins to eat the rest. He eats quickly then heads out of the door back to Holby.

lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com

It is, you know, Desire's fault.

Its all Desire's fault, of course, but this more than most. It doesn't take an evil karaoke machine, no, something that innocuous could never get Dream into a pair of sunglasses.

The fact that Del and Desire also have them on doesn't really help. Doesn't help at all.

But there they are, Dream looking dubious and wondering if, perhaps, he should get drunk again before allowing his Sibling to have its way.

And Del is there, looking very Del, and hopeful that her brother won't back down.

So Dream takes up a microphone, sighs, and waits for his siblings to figure out what they want to sing first.

((Connection issues abound. Look for links to this post as Mir, Madb, and Bansh struggle for a time when all are on.))

gorlim.livejournal.com

Traitorous medieval-type not'Scottish warrior in bar with baby girl, aged two and a half months.

This is not at ALL a gratuitous icon post.

Because an intention to actually RP makes it not gratuitous, right?

So does cranberry juice.

Gorlim has a cup of cranberry juice which he is alternately sipping and stirring with a finger which he then allows his daughter to suck on. She seems to be enjoying it. He seems not to be bothered much by the prospect of baby spit infiltrating his drink.

The child can, of course, be returned to her mother if, for example, a certain oath-brother wanted to show up and do a certain Thing which actually does not involve sex. They do occasionally practice brother!schmoop for its own sake, you twisted, twisted people.

The narrative will not cease digressing into passive-agressive muntalk and revert to IC. Thank you and good afternoon!

[~~Mun has scampered off to the grocery, will return in about a half hour!~~ Back!]

Current Mood: weird

kitchen_maid

Amy is outside, on a walk, bundled up in her cloak.

The tiny tracks around hers in the snow indicate that at least one of the squirrels is probably around here somewhere.

Feel free to join her. Or throw a snowball at her. Or whatever.

give-us-candy.livejournal.com

And with that, there are three.

"TUB! COME." A tub comes out of the shadows, full of their weapons, with a note.

Don't use these on the others.

Shock crumples the note and inspects her Axe. Still sharp. Lock takes out a lighter, which also has a note.

You burn anything and no more treats.

Barrel takes out his bashing stick and swings it around a little bit.

"How come you didn't get a note you little goody-goody? Oh, think about what you just said stupid!"

They grab their bowls of slop and find a nice table to sit at.

Bother at will!

[ooc: Be back in a bit]

mnt_raph

Fuckin' brrr.

*Says the ex-turtle as he comes in from the Lake Area, heading towards the Bar.*

namo

There is a quiet, sombre Námo sitting at a table near the observation window. Amazingly, there is no tea, but there is cocoa, which he occasionally sips. There is a large hound asleep at his feet, which is what Lírë tends to do more days than not when inside.

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Slayer inna booth.

Lunch, coffee.

Fries available for stealing, if you're a friend.

gone_byebye

Ray is in the Bar, with a cup of cayenne-smelling hot chocolate, a big ol' copy of Tobin's Spirit Guide (a most ominous-looking black book with yellowed pages), and a pair of fuzzy green slippers.

The observant and the nosey will note that his black T-shirt in fact has a small Ghostbusters corporate logo where the pocket would be on a more respectable shirt.

namo

[OOM: Short scene Millitimed to Sunday morning between Gorlim and Námo.]

kindred_spirit

It's been almost a week, for him, since Gilbert spoke and Anne refused him. He hasn't been back to Avonlea since, staying in White Sands, working and studying and trying not to think about Anne.

He thinks he's following the last of his students into the White Sands schoolhouse, and instead . . .

Grumpy, annoyed, rejected, and dejected school teacher in the bar. And none too happy about it.

Feel free to bother him. Unless you're Bran Davies or Anne Shirley, he'll at least be polite.

Probably.

blue_eyed_lord

The Black Rider wanders into the bar, his black cloak thrown back from his shoulders. His ice-bright eyes glitter in cold amusement; he seems in quite the good mood.

He wanders over to Bar and gets a glass of red wine and a book, settling down comfortably. He might be humming The Twelve Days of Christmas under his breath, if one were to listen closely.

venusadept_2

Felix is leaning his chair against the wall, and has his eyes closed. He's not asleep, though; he's having in-head conversations with his Djinn.

What do they discuss? Politics, battle, the weather, bridges, birdcalls, physics, time, life, the universe... Pretty much everything.

Come on over; Echo will hear you coming and tell Felix to open his eyes.

tea-and-honor.livejournal.com

Ako is in the bar. She's, you know. Ako. Currently white with pink hair, which clashes terribly with her tails.

Go ahead and talk with her.

((Player has personal issues which may cause her to have to slow-time, get offline, or just have a quiet break down leading to long pauses. Thank you.))

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Holby]

What has been just a few hours bar time has been more than a day and a half Holby-time. When Guppy left the bar this morning it was Saturday evening, now it is Monday morning. This can be deduced by the fact that he has clearly slept and is having breakfast again. Physically at least, he looks a little better.

[ooc: Mun back in an hour (5pm EST)]

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

The door opens slowly, and a few snowflakes blow in, along with a behatted-and-bescarfed bohemian filmmaker with a cup of coffee. Starbucks, to be precise. He seems to be staring at it wryly. "Why do people pay so much for this stuff?" With a shrug, he plops down at the bar, ordering another coffee. Real coffee this time.

melcene-beloved.livejournal.com

She makes her way down the steps carefully in a new gown, one she had been given by the Queen of Riva. She had never heard of such a thing, had been told that Riva had no king or queen and was ruled only by the Rivan Warder, but the little woman had been very insistant and her large Alorn of a husband had shown her Cthrag Yaska. The sight had been frightening, but had accomplished it's goal.

But she now had a dress worthy of coming downstairs in and thus she was.

Carefully, she made her way down to the bar itself and got herself a bowl of clear soup and a cup of tea. She looks a bit nervous, but she could use someone to talk to.

the_lioness

[OOM: Alanna and Adam: on angels, marriage, brothers, pillow fights and tea parties. Millitimed to this morning.]

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

Garion looks to Ce'Nedra, who's hand is on the mane of Horse. They're heading home again. No dramatic goodbyes or worried looks.

They all have a feeling they'll be back soon enough.

And thus do the three walk out and back to Riva and the Vale.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

( Letter to Sir Alanna of Trebond )

( Letter to Veronica Mars )

( Letter to Hank McCoy )

watching_you

[Warning for sexual content in a number of these threads.]

[Last Wednesday evening, Veronica Mars discovered something quite distressing, something that has serious consequences for her relationship with Duncan.]

[In her distress she comes to Milliways, and after having an interesting evening, she partakes in some light conversation with a very pretty man, not realizing that he is one of the Forsaken. Oops?]

[As the conversation winds on, she takes it upon herself to seduce this stranger for a one-night stand, in order to get revenge on Duncan. She's eventually successful, or at least she thinks she is, and Ishamael takes her to his apartment. The two talk innuendo for a while, as well as exchanging kisses, but eventually Ishamael gets bored. He invades Veronica's mind, twisting her memories and thoughts.]

[When Veronica wakes the next morning, she's left with a pounding headache. Because he's a stud, Ishamael leaves memories of really hot sex behind, which is nice of him. Because he's also an evil bastard, he also leaves Veronica with an acute and unshakable spectre of guilt, which is not so nice of him.]

[Thus Veronica survives her first encounter with the Forsaken, sexually satisfied but mentally disturbed.]

Current Mood: uncomfortable

the_seafarer

Snow is a marvelous thing.

Snowball fights are, as well. Which explains why Caspian, when he comes in from the lake area, is red-cheeked and grinning, and totally soaked. Snowflakes melting on his eyelashes make the bar lights splinter into rainbows, and he grins, happily, and shakes some water from his hair before heading over to get some hot chocolate.

agentlemantrue.livejournal.com

Sometimes, you're in a good mood. Most of it probably because you're oblivious to the world's problems at the moment. But, still. A good mood is a good mood.

Charles is in a good mood. He's got a package that he tries to give Bar to give to someone, but she won't take it.

...Hmm. Odd. But, seeing as Charles doesn't know that much about her, he shrugs and goes to his favourite chai- strike that. Tonight, Charles is going to sit on the couch.

He's reading. And it's entertainment reading tonight. "Die Unendliche Geschichte," by Michael Ende. Come say hi, or bother him, or just be around! There's a chance that package is for you.

[ooc: Back!]

hanild.livejournal.com

Hanild is sitting at a table, eating dinner and watching the bar at large.

She's still a little wary of the place, but feel free to chat. Though if you have dark hair, be prepared for initial suspicion.

avonlea-girl.livejournal.com

Tired though she is, from a restless night spent largely at the window of room 203, Anne can't hide herself away forever, and so comes downstairs, looking rather pale.

Her hand tightens on the banister, but she makes no motion to move over to where Gilbert is talking with another redhead.

Instead, she goes to sit by the fire, where she can curl up in an armchair with a back high enough to hide her from Gi--from whoever might look over, and stares into the crackling flames as if they might hold some sort of answer.

They don't. Not really.

alec-or-alonzo.livejournal.com

The door opens and in strolls Phil. In one hand she's carrying a folded up slip of paper and in the other a ball of yarn, some knitting needles, and what appears to be a crumpled up knitting project of some sort.

Sitting down at one of the tables, she un-crumples it. It's a scarf. Maybe. Or a sock? Well, it has stripes. Crooked ones. She stares at it, as if willing the stripes to straighten themselves, and finally gives up and orders some hot chocolate instead. Perhaps she'll see some friends who can distract her. She's clearly willing to procrastinate.

richest-duck.livejournal.com

He's eating his dinner in one of the booth, after requesting bar makes him some proper haggis. It was a test, in a way, to see if the bar really was able to make everything like he had heard. He had to admit, it was a good haggis, just like his mother used to make.

He does wonder about the bill though. No one has mentioned it so far, but he would like to know how those things are taken care off.

He checks a newspaper, once again from a different dimension than his own, and it's fascinating. He'd love to check out the library he had heard about, to check if there are any legends or stories about treasures in the area. It's what he likes best. Duck against nature, and duck coming out victorious with riches. Or maybe there's gold in the ground here, it's possible. Amazing he hasn't thought of that! And then there's the matter of the lake. It seems big enough to have mysteries lurking at the bottom, and if there's one thing Scrooge likes, it's trying to figure out a mystery.

nerdanel_the_wise

Nerdanel, now dressed in appropriate clothing for her thanks to Asar-Suti, is seated at a table eating stew and bread.

Green really does become her.

She is still new, does not know many here, and socialization is always welcome.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Amberite Sr in the bar.

Come stop by. He's got enough nachos for two. And is more than willing to share.

mnt_raph

*First there was nothing. Then, something pierces the silence.

Imagine, if you will, that magic is an elevator cable.
Imagine that cable is begining to fray.
Imagine the high pitched squeal that comes from such an action.

Now imagine that this sound is coming from the direction of the Bar.
It's a quick, sharp, attack on the magic and super auditory senses of those close to the Bar.
Like the sound of screaming breaks right before impact.

And just as quickly as it starts, it stops again.
Sharpness dulled by the thrumm of incantations that slowly adjusting themselves to account for the strain.*

not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com

CTU agent sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, staring pensively into it while "Fairytale of New York" plays on his iPod.

He's up for a nice chat, if anyone wants to distract him.

kings-guard.livejournal.com

Athos, who had been right behind D'Artangnan when walking over the threshold to Monsieur de Treville's hotel...blinks.

'Zounds! So soon a return?'

But he, at least, has the advantage of having visited before and therefore walks to the bar easily enough, despite the reopening of the wound which has been incapacitating him somewhat.

'Good Lady something to bind it, if you please. And wine.'

And with that, Athos settles into a booth. He concentrates more on drinking than seeing to his bleeding shoulder, it has to be said.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

OOM: in the office, Michael and Ron have a talk. It goes... not so well, then better.

blond-bubbles.livejournal.com

A warm smile is on Bubbles lips as she walks in from outside, shaking some cold, white snow from her hair. She had a great time making a few snow angels as she took her usual walk. And maybe later she will go flying.

Right now, Bubbles is going to warm up with a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows.

She sits at the bar, dropping her coat to the floor next to her, smiling as she takes a slow sip from her mug that had appeared for her. Her blond hair, dripping with melting snow.

Come by and chat.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace has finally discovered the joys of the iPod. The bar patronage at large should be glad, because her previous favored mode of music listening involved a boombox.

So she's sprawled on the couch with her new iPod toy, working on Sudoku puzzles. This is not to say that she does not want interruption - she'll rattle away at you cheerfully, given half the chance.

conflictedhero.livejournal.com

Bruce settles on a chair near the Door. He spills a number of books onto the table surface, and is much more careful with a laptop which he places carefully, then opens. And then he begins to research. Soon he is lost in numbers, figures and equations having to do with variable radiations. Interrupt the geek at will.

foxy-l33t.livejournal.com

Fox in the bar, at a table. Laini is making notes and peering at a map hologram projection in the air in front of her. Notes- and plans. Lots of plans. Plans that cause her to cackle and giggle at times.

Should you be worried? Probably not.
Unless your name is James Norrington.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

Bar has been on edge for weeks now.

So has her Barman.

She's been messing up orders, fumbling glasses.

He's been having nightmares, night terrors, cold chills, then freezing limbs.

And anxiety has been passed back and forth between them, snowballing until every magical twitch within a ten foot radius of her varnish makes her tense inwardly. But mostly, when people she's designated as 'nice' are near her, she feels safe.

So, when Raph, a trusted friend, typically loses his wad, Bar is unprepared.

If wood could recoil violently, she would. As it is, Bernard, who is chatting with a patron across the bar, jumps and goes pale.

Magic, save the Servete spell, has never affected her all that well.

This is an understatement.

Bar

(green stalks stabbing the green green sky stabbing stabbing the brown dirt under his cheek god make it stop make it stop)

stops serving

(it cuts it cuts violet light violet violent violet i do good work boss cowboy hat cowboy not a cowboy all american kid all american motherfucker)

and Bernard whirls around in his seat to look at Bar, then stands and walks to her.

Because he knows, now.

They both know.

His left hand lies flat on her surface. Not stroking. Just there.

His right hand goes to his left forearm.

It burns, but not with cold.

balletrat

*Meg comes down the stairs and into the bar, and heads over to the main counter for a cup of coffee.

She looks quite composed and ordinary; a little quieter, than usual, perhaps. A little drained. But quite composed, and cheerful enough, for all that.*

ways-lust.livejournal.com

'Lady' Lust slinks into the bar. She glances around to the others as she passes them, her gaze mildly challenging - daring others to approach her, perhaps?

p3-premonitions.livejournal.com

Phoebe's sitting in a booth with her head on the table. She's a bit tired, though she likes it here. It's different and just what she needs. She's looking forward to relaxing, but is not opposed to company.

jeannie-genie.livejournal.com

Jeannie feels a bit badly. Last night, she had a magical mishap and-- well, even if he wasn't upset, she is. It's a distressing thing to happen to a genie, having magic perform quite that strangely.

And she still hasn't been summoned.

It's causing a sulk.

Someone should come visit with her, and distract her from sulking. A sulky genie isn't good for anyone's health, or original shape.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

Molly has been working the Hogwarts greenhouses, and has a smudge of dirt on her nose as she dons her heavy woolen cloak and scarf and gathers the large basket full of hot-house flowers to take back to the Gryffindor common room for decoration.

She leaves the greenhouse for the path up to the school. It's snowing heavily and so she hurries along, not wanting to miss dinner entirely. However, when she pulls open the door to the entrance hall, she finds herself looking into the interior of Milliways.

"Evem better!" she says happily stepping inside and dusting the snow from her cloak. She's always happy to meet new people or catch up with old friends!

they-are-too.livejournal.com

The door flies open, and yelling can be heard beyond the entry. "I told you, Jacob, that we shouldn't have gone down that road!" Will and Jacob Grimm stalk into the bar, Will almost pulling Jake along by his collar.

Jake stops and stares around. "Um, Will? This is certainly not the inn at Bremen."

Welcome back to the bar, Brothers Grimm. Pity you don't remember it.

[OOC: Will and Jake are under new management! Be nice, but they won't remember a twit of anything that happend afore, say sorry.]

slayer_fray

She tries, she really does.

But she can't stay cooped up in the suites for very long. She gets itchy.

So. Slayer. Rafters. Turning somersaults over one like it's part balance beam part gym horse.

...I don't know how the gun stays in the holster either.

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Okay, yeah, so you all know that girl, who does this thing where she saves on space by dropping all her pups entrances into the same post? Yeah, she's doing it again:

^Sarah was once again wearing her candycane striped socks and her christmas tree skirt. Not the skirt that goes around a christmas tree, but a green skirt that looked like a christmas tree. She was also cutting pictures out of a stack of color laser printer pages and stacking them up by size, she also had a bare wood desk-top drawer set and a large bottle of glitter modpodge.

^Adric was picking up abandoned dishes, as he was prone to do, being the assistant dishwasher and all. He would more than likely be happy to stop for conversation though, and didn't mind at all when people called him over to collect dishes.

^Anoia was decked head to toe in sparkling snowflakes, and really it was a wonder she hadn't blinded anyone yet, especially given that most of the light reflecting off of them seemed to be coming from her. She tinkled when she moved, and she was once again tying bright festive ribbons around small bundles of drawer-sticking impliments in that booth over there.

^Jane was at the bar, not drinking tonight however, at least, not drinking anything stronger than a Jamacian ginger brew, the thick foamy kind that burns going down even when it's ice cold, which hers certainly was.

^Clive had been inspired apparently and was perched at one of the small tables near the observation window, scribbling away half-frantically in a notebook. His camera box was nearby, though the camera was still packed away, working on lyrics it seemed instead of filming.

(ooc: And the mun realizes she is craaaaashing. Slowtime is lurve)

doc-venkman.livejournal.com

Peter had been busy practicing, while Dana had been sleeping where she could.
Stress and an actively kicking baby does not help in the sleep dept.
They were both now at their usual table in the bar, chatting.

Peter then went to the bar, and saw the note that was left for him.

He swore a curse, and then ran to the cells.

He came back a few minutes later, and slumped back into his seat. Dana tried to reassure him, but he continued brooding some.
They (and the mun) really need a distraction.

mnt_raph

*There's a note at the bar for

( Doctor Hank McCoy )

clumsy_auror

After seeing Bernard back to the flat and making sure he's all right for the moment, Tonks hurries back out into the bar, parchment in hand. It's a

( note for Alanna. )

And with the note delivered, the witch returns home.

watcher-g-man.livejournal.com

Have a butcher!

There's a Watcher in the bar.
With a cuppa and a stack of books by him.
Yes, researching some more.

Doesn't he need a break?

mumbling-truth.livejournal.com

Over by the fireplace, you might hear the scribbling sound of writing. The source is a tawny haired teenager curled up under a blanket on a chair, frantically writing and erasing in his notebook again. The notebook looks fairly new and unused. (He's filled up his other one.)

Go ahead and say hi, Poet Todd's shy but friendly.

not-ho-chunk.livejournal.com

Gray Jay is in the rafters again, in bird form, watching the room.

95-tan.livejournal.com

You know what's great? Sake. At least, 95 thinks so, judging by the largish collection of empty bottles beside her.

For a smallish woman having consumed a large quantity of potent alcohol, she's amazingly upright. (Amazing to anyone who hasn't drunk with her before, anyway.)

Current Mood: inebriated

wizard_howell

This is his little secret, this place. No one in Ingary knows about it. And now that he's found the secret to getting here whenever he wants (and why shouldn't he have it figured; he's a wizard after all), he can be here as much as he likes.

Tonight, he likes it. He walks through the door and finds himself at the pub, the view through the window captivating and beyond incredible. Howl simply stares at the window for a minute, two minutes, three minutes, before tugging at the sleeve of his suit, standing tall, and surveying the patrons.

He's wearing his hair black tonight; a change of pace is always pleasant. Besides, it sets off the green of his eyes and he knows what a compelling combination that is.

shelley_winters

There is a redhead sitting at the bar, idly and innocently eating a pomegranate.

The paperwork on Antar is getting under control, things seem peaceful, and she's never tried these before. It's nice. If a little difficult to eat - she has long since abandoned her spoon and is using fingers instead. Her fingertips are stained dark pink with the juice.

She looks happy.

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

One 'poofy dressing' vampire in the bar.
He's got dinner and a rather aloof air.

The mun, however, is eying a few specific individuals...

Come tag him if you like. He's oblivious.

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

The back door to the lake thumps open, and in drives KARR, muttering to himself. He's covered in a layer of snow, and as he moves, it falls off in a trail behind him. His scanner twitches from side irritably as he moves to his favorite corner, still grumbling. "That's the last time I recharge out there in this weather." Come talk to him if you want, but watching out for the swiftly-forming puddle around him might be a good idea.

steadfastknight

She had thought to go into the motel room to confess to Michael why she'd not been in the motel room for the last few days. The fact that she was a she did indeed have something to do with it. A big damn something. But as it was, she walked into Milliways instead, and thought that might be both a hint and a mixed blessing. So that was how she approached the bar, slightly wary, a little iffy - but she had hot chocolate all the same, and sat there. Feeling inappropriately relieved. As if she'd been let off the hook. So there she sat with her long black hair, her vividly red eyes, clothes from nineteen eighty-three, trying to figure things out.

venusadept_2

Felix is currently sitting at a table with a very large sheet of paper and a very small pen. He's drawing a map of Weyard from memory, for an indeterminite purpose.

Feel free to say hi; he can always come back to the map.

scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com

Back in Port Royal, Norrington has the strangest feeling he's being watched...

jaded-jedi.livejournal.com

Mara's in the bar, because it's the last night of a paid account and mun is determined to use ALL the icons. Except maybe the dancing ones. Unless you get her on that subject. (it's not hard)

She's sitting crosslegged in an armchair by the fire, her hair unbound and long around her shoulders and she's wearing a robe. Don't let that fool you. She's still armed. To the teeth.

live-to-feel.livejournal.com

[Libria, Palace of Justice, Room 101: John Preston's interrogation of Mary O'Brien is not exactly going particularly well.]

fearcrow.livejournal.com

Slightly black eye? Check.
Sore jaw? Check.
Sniffling? Check.
Tired? Check.

But it could be a lot worse for Jonathon Crane, stuffed into his usual booth and looking sulky with a mug of coffee. If he were a supervillain and everything, he'd be muttering about "that Batman" and plotting ways of getting even with the Dark Knight.

And we know how angelic he is.

guppy_sandhu

There's a Guppy by the fire, drinking coke and imagining it has vodka in it. After Saturday he asked Bar not to serve him more than two units of alcohol in one day.
Which doesn't mean he wouldn't like some.
He sits, watching the destruction out of the windows and stroking the cat.

Current Mood: broken

boundxkitty

OOM: Raina & Elizabeth have a quarrel in the forest.

whitewitch-thea.livejournal.com

A not quite as insane as yesterday witch is seated in a squishy chair by the fire. She looks entirely lost in her own thoughts, staring at the flames. She might have given up on a cure.

learningtosee.livejournal.com

Stella is in the bar.

Not drinking tea, (shock and amazement) but orange juice, and is listening to the activity in the bar while giving her eyes a rest. She's more or less used to blurvision, though she still has her trusty cane near her. She's knitting a scarf to go with her mittens. She did forget to ask Bar to put the yarn in a specific order. Fairly obvious, no one would be caught dead in a scarf this particular shade of yellow.

flybywash

Can it be? Is...this a Wash with an actual entrance post?

Gasp. Shock. Horror.

He's at the bar with a sheet of digital paper and a stylus in hand, tapping the latter against the wood top with a thoughtful expression as he gazes into the middle distance. It looks like he's working on a list.

Well. Two of them, to be more accurate.

("Hoban" is at the very top of one of those lists. This was only so he could scratch it out, eight very emphatic times, and draw an angry little frowny face next to it. And possibly add the words "UNDER PAIN OF DEATH. AGAIN.")

Interruptions would not be unwelcome.

[ooc: mun's brain is still a little fried from three successive almost-all-nighters this weekend. Tags will come, but they might be on the slow side.]

boundxkitty

After OOM

Elizabeth is sitting in a booth. There is a shallow cut above her right eye. Which is better than earlier that night when it was close to needing stitches.

She's dressed in a big fuzzy sweater and jeans. The sweater mainly to hide the bandages on her right arm. As well, to commemorate her mun's town reaching a temperature of 10 degrees today, Elizabeth is wearing a pair of warm, fuzzy socks.

She's wrapped around what looks like a big bowl, but on further inspection it's really a huge cup, full of hot chocolate. Though anyone with a keen eye might notice that her right arm is a little stiffer than normal.

If one who has the ability to smell blood and wounds were to approach her, they would be able to smell an hours old wound on her. Though the worst of them isn't visible.
Come question the injured wereleopard

gone_byebye

Things may be all right with Bar (not that he's noticed one way or the other), but Ray's more than a little on edge these days. Comes of having a war in the works in a friend's world.

Tonight he's got to do something physical if he wants to avoid going into full-on spastic twitchy geeklet mode, so if you're looking for him you'll find him outside. The practice clothing Bar gave him is a little light for the cold and the snow and such, so he's got his jacket on over it- but the boots ain't half bad. So there you have it: a parapsychologist in blue jacket, white trousers, and brown boots, practicing his 'sabre skills in the mucky bits of the snow as he tries not to get zapped too often by that blasted drone.

badinlatin

[OOM: Mal rides his horse on the trails he hasn't seen in a long time.]

chelleuncurled

Michelle's at the bar and she's thinking about drinking. She knows it doesn't solve any of her problems...but for the first time ever, she looked at Tony and didn't see him.

Tony refuses to let her touch him, won't sleep next to her, and keeps saying the most bizarre things. She fears she might have lost the man she loves forever, and the one who took his place doesn't see her as much more than a friend.

Come over and convince her not to drink or give recommendations.

Current Mood: discontent

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

Just because Susannah has proved that she can cook, doesn't mean that she actually does, except for special occasions.

Therefore, the Deans are in the bar, eating Chinese food. There are little cardboard boxes, not because they're in any way necessary, but because it's a comforting thing for a couple of exiled New Yorkers.

Susannah has a nice white, and Eddie has Coke.

Eddie's giving up Coke for Lent, just to prove he can. But it's not Lent yet!

regan_tam

Several days have passed since the Tams were last in Milliways. It hasn't been an idle time; the trip from Osiris to Lavinia was filled with scheduled stops for very carefully arranged business meetings. Business, and now political; it's such a very fine line between the two in the early stages, of course, and Gabriel and Regan Tam are experts at walking fine lines. (Or dancing them, Gabriel said once, with a painful twist of humor.)

The trip has also been filled with quiet talks alone together, in rooms where the music is turned up to cover the soft sound of their voices. Gabriel's been explaining things.

Some of those things have been horrible. Sickening. Some of them have been unbelievable. All of it would seem a dream, a disjointed bizarre nightmare, except that every day he adds more, and except that Regan knows Gabriel very well. He's utterly in sober earnest. He means every word.

Even so, there's a part of her waiting to wake up.

That part gets a lot smaller very suddenly, when the unobtrusive door in an empty side-street opens onto the chaotic bustle of the mó shù bar at the end of the universe.

simon_doctor

The front door slides open, and in comes a voice in midsentence --

"...the one who named it, or did it have that name already?"

-- followed by Simon and Kaylee.

Whatever they're discussing, it's clearly amusing.

lightningbaron6.livejournal.com

[OOM: Duo Maxwell bestows a new name on a comrade over lunch.]

bartyjr.livejournal.com

[OOM: Barty wants to use his pensieve to revisit his last conversation with Morgan. There's something he needs to listen to again.]

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

It's becoming a common sight, Max curled up in a booth with one odd book or another. Cults again this time, the translation discarded for the moment. She doesn't seem to be any less frustrated with this avenue of inquiry than she was with the other.

Feel free to bother the X5. She's not quite yet at the stage where she'd be inclined to throw the books at people.