milliways_bar | Dec. 7th, 2005

Dec. 7th, 2005

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

There's a Max in the bar, sipping coffee and people watching, the books abandoned for the moment in favour of less frustrating pursuits. Feel free to come tell her to stop staring, or ask what she finds so interesting.

Or bother her in general, really.

firstwizard.livejournal.com

Zedd is sitting by the fire with his back turned on the bar. It may not be very apparent, but he is taking a little nap. He has been up the past few night because he couldn't sleep, but at least it's nothing sinister. It's just one of those things that happens to you once in a while.

If you notice that he is sleeping before you wake him up, try not to be unnerved by his open eyes.

steak-man.livejournal.com

But Cypher is sitting at the bar, looking particularly paranoid and jittery.

He's finally disassembled his cell phone; it lies in pieces on his little patch of counter. Now he appears to be working on an old-fashioned rotary phone. He's already removed the front casing.

And he's drinking Jameson again, because it's as untechy as it gets.

http://users.livejournal.com/_the_empty_one/

Every time he re-enters the bar, it gets hard. Worlds and times and his god is dead and...

And Ismena. Here. Dead. Still loving him.

Though he killed her.

Every time 'Zakath enters the bar, he remembers everything which has happened in it. Everything, which is why he turns white and stumbles into a chair.

trustntheharper.livejournal.com

[OOM: Harper spends a large bit of his surf contest prize money on something less-than-wholesone. This one's NC-17.]

[OOM: Harper gets sicker, and upon his arrival to Earth, he runs into just a bit of bad luck...]

live-to-feel.livejournal.com

[In Libria's Room 101, the interrogations get dangerous.

But the next day, in the same place, it's Preston's turn to confess.]

[Whitetext in the first thread comes from 1984.]

latino_menace

Ooh look! A terrorist! A terrorist with a bag! But no, nothing exploding in it or whatnot. He's just moving house is all - but is taking the opportunity to get a meal here before he's forced to put up with Random's cooking.

...

It seems fairly likely that he'll be back in the bar three times a day or so. Around breakfast, lunch and dinner times. But in the meantime, feel free to interrupt him.

ectnotert.livejournal.com

"Thinking up random quotes is hard. I shouldn't have started."
-R. Asprin

Back down to the bar. As I do every day. It doesn't make me feel any better that the person at the keyboard has gotten lazy with the entry headings. Makes me worry, really.

"Bar? Yeh, gimme a cigar, would ya?"

And just like that, there it is. God, a Pervect could get used to this lifestyle. Matches from the ashtray on the bar, and I'm inhaling. Ahh. Nothing is quite as tasty as a fresh cigar. And from the taste, this one if jusr rolled. Magic, what can't it do?

But, cigar in hand, I let myself watch the floor, looking for red hair. Hell, If I'm gonna be stuck here, I might as well get a job, right? Right.

But I wouldn't mind meeting new folks.

magius-unlocked.livejournal.com

Magius sits at a booth near the Door, his eyes sweeping the area. His pouches are full of spell components, his staff leans against his side, and His gaze is sharp as he watches the Bar. Battle comes and the mage is ready.

inquisitivehero

At his usual table near the Infirmary, Hank has a breakfast platter set to the side.

Instead of focusing on that, his attention is on the array of pouches before him, each one filled with medical supplies of different kinds, undergoing a last inspection by his hands and eyes, in preparation for the battle.

He saw the note up yesterday and he is ready. He has left a note or two just in case and is hoping to see certain people this morning to speak with them personally.

He is up for interruptions as he thinks of battles both past and future.

elrond-healer.livejournal.com

Elrond is out back, in armor and with his sword out, going through the motions of battle exercises. He moves with a sinuous grace and, at times, almost faster than the eye can see as he practices battle moves older than he is. On one hand, Vilya flares blue and bright as it's magic wraps around him as well, and the air's resistance fades before him.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda is sitting in a booth prepared for battle. She has her sword, her lightsaber, and some daggers. There is a plate of fruit and toast in front of her as she prepares herself mentally for the battle to come.

banished-to.livejournal.com

Hel is settled in "her" chair, sewing on a pair of dark blue gloves. She's at the embroidery portion of these as well. The different colored flosses have been separated out, and now and then she asks Svava to separate out a specific strand for her. Its easier that way than if she does it for herself.

Svava is in a smaller chair, reading out loud from her Afterlives book. At time Hel laughs, softly, when something weird is mentioned.

You can't gross out a death goddess.

If you wish to speak with either or both of them, do, please, join.

goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com

If one were to guage Clive's mood by his level of goth-ness, then he must be having a fairly good morning so far, as there is lipstick and eyeliner and probably more than enough eyeshadow, no top hat today, though he is wearing the collar as it's sort of a security blanket.

He's sitting in a booth, re-painting his nails with the black chrome polish that bar gave him with his breakfast, he's started quite a collection, matte black, charcoal black, black with sparkles, one that inexplicably only painted in polkadots.

He was done with breakfast, except for the crusts of his toast, he never ate the crusts.

He's quite involved in what he's doing, headphones on and all, someone should make him jump, see if he gets nailpolish all across the back of his hand.

(ooc: and the mun is off to work, might get a few posts in before lunchtime, and then half hour for lunchtime and uh... no idea after that. Slowtime = very much the love)

lvpd_sidle

She is still shaken from seeing Tony--Anthony--the night before, though they had only exchanged glances.

Sara is looking contemplatively at one of the fireplaces, her thoughts miles away.

gone_byebye

Ray was up quite late last night. You know how you're supposed to get a lot of rest the night before something physically or emotinoally demanding? It's bull. Your body knows something's coming and won't let you sleep.

Ray read three whole chapters of Tobin's Spirit Guide to his daughter before he finally felt the urge to actually rest. And even then it still didn't properly work.

This may explain why this morning's order involves Sumatran coffee and a bowl of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs. Possibly it may have something to do with the letter addressed to Romana that he puts into Bar's care, too, but that's hard to say.

So. Parapsychologist, inna bar, with 100% and then some of the USRDA of caffeine.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

He knoweth not what knowledge awaits him.

And yet.

He is there.

They say that when the student is ready, the master appears.

Happily, Arithon only has to be told about shopping, he doesn't actually have to go.

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah was in the bar once more, earlier than usual, but practically bouncing, she'd had some good coffee that morning, and already was nearly done with her christmas gift making and/or buying.

She's got caramel cream cocoa and a plate of warm irish soda bread, with shallots in place of currants, because she wanted savory to go with the cocoa.

She'll share the bread, probably, and is more than open for conversation.

(sneakyposting from work, may vanish at any time, but not likely, slowtime possible, also not likely)

cywyllog

Back in the bar and downstairs today is Cywyllog. As usual, she is curled up by the fire, with a cup of tea. And she's doing a lot of thinking.

Feel free to bother her, ask her what she's thinking about, or just tell her to do something more interesting. Suggestions are welcome, too.

a-fine-girl.livejournal.com

A man walks into a bar.

...

Wait, that's not it.

Okay. So, a woman walks into a bar.

...That's not it either. Because she didn't really walk. She sort of... ambled. Sleepily. Dressed in fitted jeans and a tight, light-green t-shirt.

And, well, she wasn't really expecting to walk into a bar. She was actually expecting to walk into her kitchen. For some coffee. Because coffee is good.

Especially when you're not awake.

"...Whaa? Where the hell'd my kitchen go?"

[ooc: Need to go for studying, and then test. Slowtime is love, will be back in about three and a half hours.]

last-human.livejournal.com

Early afternoon, and Dave's eating breakfast. Chicken vindaloo, beer milkshake and papadoms. Occasionally he glances at the blank TV screen above the bar, wondering if he can get it to play movies.

If someone objects to sappy romances being played in a public area, they should probably stop him.

not-ho-chunk.livejournal.com

Wisakedjak, by the Bar, with applemash.

...Liver failure is not his issue. He can drink as early as he likes.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

Michael's around, waiting for Andrew so he knows when they leave.

Maria's with him, and the baby.

Come say hi.

and-far-away.livejournal.com

Sharpe is in the bar ~~with a brand new icon set~~, sitting by the fire with a cup of coffee and his dog at his feet. He's just watching the flames right now, but wouldn't mind an interruption.

namo

Námo sits in a chair near the fire, staring into it, brooding.

He's gotten good at the brooding.

Why yes, it is an imaginative entrance post.

namo

Námo approaches the main door, his face set in a grim mask, and stops a few feet in front of it. Nerdanel quickly stops behind him, glancing from the Vala to the door. Her confusion is evident, but she stands silently aside, daring to hope the Lord of Mandos had been truthful.

It was not difficult for Námo to do this. He was the master of spirits, and as he chose a particular time, a particular place, he opens the door and step through it with one name echoing in his own mind.

Kanafinwë.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

It's a popular past-time just about now, and Ace is hardly immune to it - Making Christmas Gift Lists. So Ace is curled up on the couch with some cocoa, blueberries and a notepad, trying to figure out what to get everyone. Somehow, having nearly unlimited shopping options only makes things worse.

And she should probably be chewing the blueberries, not the pencil. Girl's gonna get splinters one of these days.

a-fine-girl.livejournal.com

Y'know, it's only natural to want to talk to a new person.

'specially when they're sitting at the Bar, munching on a chicken salad, and still eyeing said Bar, because they're really not quite sure what to make of it.

And then there's the careful avoidance of looking at the Observation Window.

All the marks of a newb.

Come welcome her to Milliways!

doc-venkman.livejournal.com

Peter's outside despite the cold weather, and the snow, going over combat maneuvers.
The training and practice were paying off, his movements with the bokken seemed smoother, and more controlled.
He was bundled up, and his breath steamed in a cloud as he moved in the snow.

randomsbastard.livejournal.com

Millitimed to last night:

Dad,
Ran off with beautiful Fox. Will be back some point after Tea.
~Martin

watcher-g-man.livejournal.com

The battle was fast approaching, so Giles was in the bar, mentally preparing, and killing time before it.
He had a cuppa and a stack of books on the table.
Also some curry that he was idly eating at times in between reading passages.
Times which try men's souls, knowing all hell would break loose once again, but can do nothing except wait.
Giles has experienced many of these over the years.

cellist-dana.livejournal.com

Dana was in the bar. She had heard about the piano, and eyed it thoughtfully.
Luckily it wasn't that hard to work around her 23 week pregnant stomach to sit at the bench.
She started with some scales, seeing if it was in tune. When she was satisfied enough with the tones, she started playing.
One of Beethoven's piano concertos by the sound of it.
Different skills then what cello playing required, and she hadn't played as often as she used to.
But it came back easily. Something to get her mind occupied and not thinking about her concerns.
About Peter and that battle.
About being here with a child on the way, and one stuck back in their world.
And especially about that damn hidden door.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

Christmas holiday gift lists. Yes, Svava is working on one as well. Unlike others, she already has a couple boxfuls of gifts hidden under the bed in her flat. She did some of the shopping early while in Paris, once. So, she is checking off most of the names already on her list, until she only has a handful that she still needs to get something for-

And there is already a shopping expedition in the works to get these done, soon.

Svava is quite easily interrupted, however, as she is sitting cross-ways on one of the armchairs, with hot chocolate close to hand, a calico in her lap, dressed in jeans, boots and a long sweater.

((Mun is off to bed early, tag for slowtime if you wish))

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

Susannah hovers into the bar from the lake area, snow in her hair, looking delighted.

It's really beautiful out there.

She gets a cup of hot chocolate and a notebook and pen from the Bar, then glides to a table and establishes herself.

This involves creating an enormous pile of stuff on one of the chairs, including a huge green peacoat, earmuffs, a scarf, a shawl-blanket-thing and gloves. Underneath all that, she's wearing a sweater.

She likes winter. She just doesn't like being cold.

She opens up the notebook and begins to brainstorm Christmas presents, with frequent hot chocolate breaks.

nomorethesource.livejournal.com

It's possible that you don't see him sitting there. The booth he's in is pretty dark. And he's really not making himself known. Just observing tonight.

Or is he?

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith's in the bar, with coffee, food, and a sharp killing stick.

It'll be soon.

She's ready.

grovecj.livejournal.com

OG entering the bar. He is very glad his hallway closet gave way to the Bar, because right now, he needs a rest from Families' problems.

He heads to the counter, seeming to have had a long day...

Have at.

iwantmybook.livejournal.com

There's a flash of light, and a newcomer appears in the bar. He spins around with a look of nasty, triumphant accomplishment. "HA!" He holds that pose a moment, then straightens and looks around the bar. "Waitaminute ..."

He looks remarkably like Ash. He sounds like him too. Except for the evil smirk, and the fact that he has both hands. "Where am I?"

live-to-feel.livejournal.com

[Back in Libria, one life ends.

Another one just gets really overemotional and pissed off and shoots things, but that's just to lighten the mood.]

venusadept_2

Felix is engaging in a new pastime tonight. He is standing near the fire turning himself into a pile of sand and back repeatedly.

Bwrrrrr: Felix levitates a few inches and collapses into sand.

Fwoop: The sand rises up and forms into Felix.

Bwrrrrr-fwoop, bwrrrrr-fwoop, bwrrrrr-fwoop.

scapepig

Outside there is a pig, shuffling the snow away to clear the paths leading to the lake, as Asar-Suti's latest garden employee.
He works hard, but will quite happily chat to anyone out and about as he goes.

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Yesterday Guppy took Aeryn home because she wanted to talk to Abs. Once there she knocked him out and went off to teach Abs a lesson, leading to eventual arrest and rescue. But as none of these threads have been finished yet, they'll be linked in and millitimed back over the next few days. Say sorry. I.e. this is millitimed to after that.]

Guppy is in the bar, drinking tea and watching the destruction out of the observation windows.
His mum wanted some time with his dad alone.

mogget_cat

*You'd think a position like that wouldn't be comfortable, wouldn't you? Guess again.*

*There's a not'cat sprawled across as much of the couch as it possibly can. Come pet it and give it food.*

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

[OOM: A routine mission goes down an unexpected path as Zechs and Heero meet a dangerous old... friend.]

bloodyrockgod

Charlie. Guitar.

(No shoes. He's inside.)

And of course, he's singing.

( And would that be . . . a happy song? )

Why, yes. Yes, it's a happy song.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

And Random, father of his bastard Martin, is on the other side of the bar.

He, however, is eating miso soup, tempure, and ebo su. With chopsticks.

And, yes, scotch.

He's feeling social. Do stop by.

the_lioness

[OOM: Earlier this morning, Alanna and Adam discover that something important has gone missing.]

*An unusually tense Alanna and Adam exit the staff quarters and make their way to a corner booth. Alanna fidgets as she sits, her hand lifting to her throat as if checking for something. When a wait rat approaches, Adam orders a cider and leans his head back. Alanna orders a steak. They alternately spend long minutes looking at each other or staring off into space.

It has been an interesting day.*

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

It's the first Wednesday of the month.

And that means...

Name your own cocktail night!

YOU give me a name

and I will invent a drink for you.

Stump me and DRINK FREE for the night

Eddie stands before the chalkboard, a stack of references to one side and a towel tossed over his shoulder.

"Evening, folks. Let's rock."

woolonyourface.livejournal.com

[OOM: The baby almost Isn't, but thanks to the Smeagol, who is repairing the damage that he wrought, it Is.]

mapmakerchur.livejournal.com

There is a hani at a table, eating some sort of greyish-white pudding (with a fork) and drinking a White Russian. From the lazy slant of her ears (and her over-precise fork-use) it might be inferred that this is not her first drink of the night. She is also turning a small gold (or at least gilded) coin over and over in her hands, occasionally extruding a claw and tapping the coin with it.

Come talk?

balletrat

*There's a ballerina sitting at a table in the bar, cup of coffee in her hands.

She's doing more mending; the needle goes up and down into the fabric perhaps a little more forcibly than necessary. She's a little tense.*

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

Out back, in the snow, is a behatted-and-bescarfed man, filming the squid through the ice on the lake. It's not the grandest of shots, and who the hell knows why he's doing it, but there he is. Mark Cohen, the now-famous Mark Cohen, filming odd stuff. Typical.

creator_raven

Raven is settled in a booth, a plate of cookies--or rather a plate filled with the remains of cookies--is on the table in front of him.

He also has a glass of milk.

One hand is idly toying with the ragged threads on the edge of his coatsleeve, while the other spins a set of three bone pins.

He appears absorbed in the motion, though occasionally he stops one, frowning thoughtfully.

Interrupt him at will, he's fond of company.

whitewitch-thea.livejournal.com

Witch inna bar.

Basket of chocolate chip muffins? - $5.00

Comfy seat by the fire? - $70

Not being possessed and having a good day? - Priceless.

north-witch.livejournal.com

[OOM: Serafina seeks out the cave that brought her to Milliways before.]

There's a blast of cold air as the door opens--perhaps less remarkable now that winter has set in at Milliways. The woman who steps through still seems incredibly underdressed for such weather, and the gray goose on her shoulder still seems alert and intelligent.

The difference is that this time, Serafina Pekkala looks considerably less surprised to find herself in Milliways.

[OOC: Plz to ignore any posting of personal journal entries to the bar. >_> OOM link now actually leads OOM.]

http://users.livejournal.com/_fisshes/

oom: Setting Things Right

The front door opens, and Sméagol walks through, but only for long enough to walk up to the bar and speak to it directly.

His tab, for some reason, is completely erased, and he eyes the others around it.

“Attatch my tab to my accounts,” he says, after a while, “And withdraw as much as makes up for the property I’ve used.”

It’s amazing how much interest accumulates over the millions of years it takes for the universe to die out. And he had an inheritance to start out with, long ago . . . withdraw the equivalent of five units of currency from then, deposit in five different banks on five different worlds . . . he can live forever on that. Even if he’s now dead, and doesn’t really need to. His tab disappears.

"And, er, transfer enough money to George Weasley's account to make up for what I took from it." It's a substantial amount, but once again, the tab does not go up. That finished, he walks back to the door again and pushes it open.

Through it is a wide, green country, with peacefully rolling hills, and small, furry-footed people milling about industriously. He stands and stares at it for a minute, and there are tears in his eyes, plain for anyone to see, before he steps through.

The door closes behind him with a creak, but not before anyone can see him suddenly turn transparent and smoky. It’s the hardest thing to go to just the right time that he is a ghost there, but he does it.

Sméagol’s about to do the only brave thing he’s ever done.

inquisitivehero

Hank settles at the bar, quiet and alert. He is drinking coffee, and his eyes are searching the crowd restlessly.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

Jack's sitting at the bar, listening to his iPod, when, through the headphones, he hears an odd beeping noise, which gets faster as it continues.

He's just starting to worry when he looks down at the iPod's screen and resists the urge to facepalm; the track listing on the screen says: "24 Soundtrack - Sean Callery - 24 Theme". He turns back to the bar and orders a beer, resisting the urge to bang his head on the bar top as the music starts up.

Fucking Milliways.

Current Music: 24 SDTK - 24 Theme

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

How many Archies are there in the bar? Really, how many Archies does one bar need?

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

[OOM: High times...

Angela comes down into the bar, with a beaming bright smile on her face. Her eyes are a little bloodshot, and she's looking for food.

"Hi, Bar," she said. "Can I have some natchos please...oh, and a coke?"

The order appears on the bar, and she says, "Thanks" and goes to take a seat. Everything tastes soooo good.

And boy, does the view out of the Observation Window look fascinating or what?

nomorethesource.livejournal.com

At this point, Cole decides to make himself more noticeable. Of course, all this really requires is leaving the dark booth and bringing himself up to the Bar.

He's got the Book with him, along with a big quill pen (some things just have to be done right). He's writing in it, but his attention is obviously elsewhere.

how-pathetic.livejournal.com

Sesshomaru, has been in the bar for some time now. He isn't doing much, as he can't explain his interest in wanting to hang out here, but it seems to just draw him in. He is sitting at a booth in the corner, moving a glass of water around in his hands as he looks at everyone and thinks.

http://users.livejournal.com/_fisshes/

oom: Setting Things Right in Middle-earth. Hope comes in unexpected places, for more than one Ringbearer.

2nd-feanorian.livejournal.com

[[OOC: After this.]]

Námo had gone. Námo came back soon, and with him came another.

A scruffy elf in modern human clothes, carrying a backpack and a guitar case, which he dropped just inside the bar door, throwing himself into Nerdanel's waiting arms.

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

There is a very puzzled-looking Max poring over a book on holiday celebrations. Specifically, winter holidays. They're not really something she's ever bothered with before. But given that a few people she cares for seem to be excited about them...well, hell. It might be fun.

Come bother the X5 before she gets any strange ideas.

Current Mood: curious

capt_angie

Angelina is sitting at a booth. She's wearing a white tank top, and dark jeans, and heavy boots and her long dark hair is pulled into a pony tail. A black robe is hanging over the seat behind her and a pair of leather gloves is on the table. Her broom and its servicing kit is spread out in front of her, and she's trimming the twigs of the broom. Preperation work for tonight, or maybe she's just destracting herself. It's not much longer now.

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

There's a dandy in the bar. Dressed as ~~poofy~~ snazzy as ever.
Well, snazzy for the time period. Frock coat, top hat, and lace. Oh my!

He's at the bar, staring at what appears to be a note, in a language he's never seen before.
Distract him?

the_antiangst

(Upstairs: Following tonight's conversation, Angel takes Mark's camera up to his room, and also leaves a stunning use of logic, in written form.)

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

It's been a few days since a certain mission, and Heero's mood certainly hasn't improved much since then. First there was paperwork: the bane of his existance. And then there was more paperwork, and all the other such lovely things that followed the wrapup of a mission. All in all, there hasn't been much time to do what he really wanted to do.

Which is why he was very glad to find the bar instead of his apartment, today. Most people would use it as a chance to socialize. Even he would use it for other things, usually.

Today, though, he's using it as a chance to analyze code. But it's a very special code.

Still. One Heero Yuy, at a booth with his laptop, who surely needs a distraction. Come make him stop working?

gone_byebye

Ray's been in the Bar for... pretty much all of today, really. At least, he's been in Milliways. Sometime after his breakfast he went upstairs.

Anyone who saw him up there would report that he spent his time lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling, but there was no one to see.

Not that it much matters; He's in the Bar now, in uniform, with pack and goggles ready.

This time he's staring at the Observation Window. Look, his eyes have to be somewhere while his brain is off a-wandering.

subtle-will.livejournal.com

No rain today, but a paper due and so Will, when he enters, waits for the black cat with him to leap up onto an empty stretch of Bar while he lays out his book--the Book--and papers and pencils as she settles into a watchful half-circle of shadowy silky fur.

But it is easy to be distracted in a bar, and so the Book may well be pushed aside soon for some hot chocolate. It is a winter evening, after all.

[OOC: Mun is homeworking, so tags will be slower, but steady.]