milliways_bar | Dec. 10th, 2005

Dec. 10th, 2005

Edmund and ~~a cardboard~~ Kitty head over towards Bar from the painting to the House of Arch, at some point early in the evening. ~~Pay no attention to the timestamp on this post.~~

They clean up, on their way, as has become something of a habit, and clean and stock Bar as well for the evening rush.

And then there's a conversation that goes something like this:

"I thought you were coming up with this evening's specials?"

"... I thought you were coming up with this evening's specials!"

"..."

"..."

Edmund mutters something under his breath that is impolite, and therefore has not been recorded for posterity. Kitty shakes her head at him, and leaves him to his fate, heading down the bar to dry off some glasses.

He spends a moment staring at the specials board, tossing the chalk absently in the air, before catching it and hurriedly scrawling

Welcome to Milliways Bar Happy Hour
Specials tonight: Half Off
Firebird
Mockingbird
Yellow Parrot
Blackhawk

He steps back, giving the list a critical look. It'll have to do, for all that the theme is... rather obvious, really.

"What'll it be?"

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

Bar, booth, vampire, dinner.
~~One of these things is not like the others.~~
What more could you want?

milliways_sawyer

Sawyer's in his booth eating peanut M&Ms.

This has nothing at all to do with the fact that his mun is currently eating peanut M&Ms.

Nope.

And, just because... ponytail!

the_lioness

[OOM: Before Thom drips into the bar, the Trebonds take a walk. Much is said and not said between snowball fights.]

timsbooks.livejournal.com

From the direction of the infirmary, Tim glides out. He worked himself a little arangement, and so a regular old comfy armchair is floating along under the power of his skaterug. He still looks like shit, rather pale and drawn, but he's been bandaged, and this place is the place to be if you need healing.

"Bar? Just some water, please."

He accepts the glass, and the note that appears with it, reading the latter slowly. A sad shake of his head and he gestures in the direction of the door.

"Go with Luck, Henry Jones."

aj_crawley

Instead of sitting at his usual table, Crowley, tonight, is draped across one of the pleasantly squashy armchairs by the fireplace. He doesn't look particularly happy about it, but then, a general air of crankiness is only to be expected when London is getting colder by the bloody day.

'Course, the bookshop always does seem that little bit chillier when Crowley comes home to find Aziraphael MIA. The angel hadn't left a note, though, so Crowley's confident that he'll be home later tonight.

So, Crowley, sitting by the fire. Because warmth is good. Yes. He's taking occasional sips of his tea, but the mug is mostly being left by one of the chair-legs in favour of the idle cleaning of the demon's nails. There're bits of soil under them, see; Crowley's been spending some quality time with the winter blooms that are due soonishly.

Poor things.

iwasalevel6.livejournal.com

[ OOM: The night after this, Tony wanders into a diner and has a talk with a young waitress, who is rather serene, give or take. ]

shang-dragon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Liam and Goldy have their respective first practice sessions. Millitimed back to Tuesday.]

sir-apropos.livejournal.com

What I'm doing down here in the bar, I don't really know. It's not as if I have any friends here; I haven't seen Yossarian for ages and I believe that at this point, Gretchen must have wasted away in her attic since I haven't seen her even once for what has to be months. If they had moved on, good riddance, though I'd seen a bit of promise in the both of them. If they had merely been as scarce as I tend to make myself, I wished them as well as I could really bring myself to wish anyone.

Slack is still asleep upstairs and while her warmth had been tempting, the rumble in my stomach demanded to be placated. Thus here I sit, steak and eggs half eaten as I'm not one to let things go cold (or to be taken away), reading one of the old books Lochiel had given me long ago.

[ooc: feel free to come by--]

I'm reading.

[ooc: then why did you want an entrance post?]

Because otherwise, I'd never get fed and I wouldn't get to read.

[ooc: people are supposed to talk to you when you make an entrance post]

Well, they're welcome to talk to me, but there's no guarantee I'll talk back.

[ooc: *grumble*]

When are you going to learn you're not going to win these discussions?

[ooc: *grumble* *hates you*]

Well, yes of course. You were aware of what I was like when you brought me here, weren't you?

[ooc: Just shut up]

I thought you wanted me to talk to people.

[ooc: *hates you*]

I win. Again.

soweroflife.livejournal.com

That man, over there on the couch?

Sure, he might have just come through the door, spotted the couches and made a beeline. Maybe. But the way he's lounging, with a hefty Bag at his side, it sure as hell looks as though he plans to be comfy, whether he's new or not.

Kokopelli is like that.

trustntheharper.livejournal.com

[OOM: On the Slaver Ship. (Warning for graphic bloody stuff. Nietzscheans are Not Nice.)

Torment, for some men, is a need, an appetite, and an accomplishment.

--E.M. Cioran]

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Another NIght of Fun with Amanda and Lobo.

As per norm this thread may not be suitable for younger views for sexual content.

Millitimed for Thursday Night.

ampersand-i.livejournal.com

Marwood is curled up on a couch nearish to the fireplace, dozing. HIS couch or he thinks of it that way as he's been camping out on it for nearly a week now. He hasn't quite figured out the deal with room and keys from the bar as he's been worried about more important things - namely Withnail, his flatmate, being missing.

Also, he don't have to pay rent on a couch - unlike rooms which can become very expensive. It's the same reason he's been trying to limit himself to a meal a day. It doesn't seem likely his money's going to last long here - even without Withnail's bar tab added on.

So come poke a frazzled, sleep deprived, underfed, rather bumish Marwood. He'd like company.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda

Book

Hot Chocolate

Fire

Want's company.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[OOM. Manhattan, New York 1937 - The morning after arriving in New York, Indy and Lilly visit Marcus Brody to make travel arrangements for their little trip to Egypt. Marcus takes the various revelations about as well as can be expected under the circumstances, and they don't even tell him the whole truth...]

bartyjr.livejournal.com

[OOM:

In which Barty makes a decision.

In which Barty loves Morgan.]

lastczarnian.livejournal.com

Lobo, bar, booth, eggs, bread and bacon, coffee. And catalogs from Guns'R'Us, Planet Mercenary and a few other high-tech, machine-of-destruction places. Because you know, his Spacehawg got trashed when he was saving a world, and saving some good guys, and killing hordes of demons.

Yes, his Spacehawg was trashed while he was doing something good. Just for a change.

For a change too, he is also going to fix it out of his pockets. And will not maim anyone because of that.

Nobody even said 'thank you' to the Main Man, and just for a change (yes, see a pattern there?), he is not going to hurt anyone for being ungrateful. Because you see, Lobo can be nice like that. Most of the time, he just gets in trouble because trouble is more fun.

Weeks upon weeks in the Bar, and he did not break any of it. He pays his tab, and he is only mildly annoying to just a small portion of the patrons. But he is quite sure, if trouble happens, he will be assumed to be the trouble-maker. Reputation, you know?

Lobo finds the idea vaguely unpleasant. Maybe that's why he is grumbling while looking over new armor plating and ion boosters for his bike.

Come poke the Main Man. He might not bite, even.

(Back)

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

Garion runs into the bar.

From the front door.

Shouting.

"We're having a baby!"

He stops then, realizing where he is and how that might sound to a bar with such an assorted group of patrons as Milliways. It wasn't where he'd been expecting to go, but in this state of mind, he neither cares nor really feels like doing much about it.

"Ce'Nedra's having a baby! I'm going to be a father!"

He looks around for friends and pack before realizing what day and time it is and hopping over the bar counter. He's practically bouncing with contained joy as he writes up the specials that pop into his mind at the moment.

*You're being ridiculous.*
Yes! Isn't it BRILLIANT?!
*...you're going to be hopeless until you get this out of your system, aren't you?*

Garion doesn't answer the Will of the Universe, chosing instead to put up the specials.
Drinks
Fragile Baby
Baby Doll
Prince
Prince's Smile

All specialty drinks on me!
And he's still bouncing.

~~[ooc: hiatus! gtg put up decorations!]~~ Back and ready to go!

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

Over by the Observation window is Naraht.

No, he hasn't been around much because ~~his mun has had Murphy kick her in the ass~~ he's been resting up after the big demon war. The pack Ray loaned him for the battle is on the table in front of him since it's not exactly something he can take back to the Enterprise without having to answer a lot of difficult questions.

Come poke.

[ooc: I'm accessing the ER computer while I'm working this weekend so there will likely be many pauses between replies. I'll be so glad when I get a new computer!]

vanwithaman.livejournal.com

Would you look at this? The special's board has writing on it this early in the day:

Breakfast Specials
Cougnou
Eggnog Pancakes
Half a Grapefruit

Hi Milliways, it's great to be back - Dinah

And the Dining Car in question is also there, setting out jugs of orange juice and milk, and looking happy as can be.

"What can I getcha?"

last_adam

[OOM: Last night, Alanna and Adam talk and talk and do something stupid and talk some more. Revelations are had and admissions are made and all's well that ends well. In a way. Rated R for smut.]

venusadept_2

Felix is outside practicing with his sword. As he's almost entirely self-taught, his maneuvers are unorthodox, but they've served him well. Occasionally either he or the sword will glow with a warm yellow light.

The cold? It doesn't bother him. He's spent the last three years living north of what would be the Arctic Circle if Weyard were round.

Try not to touch the light.

banished-to.livejournal.com

Hel enters the bar. Three of the four sets of gloves she's making are complete, the third (lady's gloves, or little girls considering the size of the hands) are resting in a smallish basket that she can drape over her arm.

She moves like it hurts. Her left leg clicks, slightly, every time it shifts and the limp is worse than when its warm out.

slayer_fray

It's so quiet upstairs.

So very very quiet.

Mike's cooking again. Mince pies. Batches and batches of mince pies. And he's topping up the brandy in the Christmas cake and pudding he made months ago. And he's started experimenting on various foul. and he keeps asking Mel to try things, and much as she wants to be with him, she's worried about...

...as she gets to the Bar, she's presented with a note.

Well, that explains that then.

She retires to a table with cocoa and a book.

button-masher.livejournal.com

The door opens and Tycho Brahe walks through, a catalog for Hickory Farms meat in his hands. He looks up and sighs. "At least Gabe's not here."

And this he knows for a fact, seeing as Gabe's shopping with Jesus.

Tycho wanders over to a booth and takes a seat in it, after ordering a plate of nachos.

Yum.

[Mun's AIM is not working, but she's here until 5 pm EST]

prydeful

[OOM: Earlier today, Kitty gets a letter and a picture, and decides she needs to make a trip. No, this will not lead to doom, just an excuse for why she's gone while the mun is gone as well.]

csi-catherine.livejournal.com

Catherine in the bar, and maybe you should ask her about all the parcels and bags she's carrying before she falls over...

ways-lust.livejournal.com

Lust walks into the bar, a little abstracted. She had just been accosted by a young woman outside in her world - the fiance' of the man she'd been teaching Alchemy. During the woman's verbal attack, Lust had felt ... pity. An emotion she wasn't used to feeling, and now she has a decision to make.

Go with the compassionate response and leave the village (and the man) to their own device or kill the girl and keep him as her pet while she tries to figure out the strange memories he stirs up. She doesn't love him; she's incapable and she knows it. So why does letting the girl have him bother her?

Feel free to interrupt her deliberations.

forsaken-bard.livejournal.com

The soft sounds of the harp were soothing.

This place was suspicious. He was always suspicious of Ishamael's motivations. The man was mad. Calculating sidelong glances as he watched the patrons of this weird space. He did not really care how or why they got here. That was best left to someone like Mesaana.

Sitting by the fire, a pretty man in unrelieved black sat with a glass of ice water in hand. He was speaking in hushed tones to handsome man with dark features lounging indolently on the couch. A harp sat in his lap and he played casually as he spoke.

Asmodean and Ishamael were discussing matters, dark matters, as it turned out.

[OOC: You may have one or both of the Forsaken. They aren't in long, millitime around if there would be problems. Asmodean is prior to his previous entrance and is quite evil. Please to not be breaking his brain]

lvpd_sidle

Sara inna bar. Quite possibly keeping an eye out for a golden-haired elf lord. But not opposed to speaking to others.

She has cookies.

mctrillian.livejournal.com

The door opens and a tired looking Trillian, in brown court gown, steps in.

It's very odd. It wouldn't be if it were just Trillian in the gown, but it's Trillian in the gown, with reading glasses on, and holding a pen in her hand, getting gold gauntlets all inky.

She's also murmuring numbers.

Math at the ball. How rude.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

[OOMS: Atton laments his not being able to get to Milliways in a rather different bar and gets shot at. After escaping, he found his ship had been stolen and that he had been followed by a Dark Jedi. A week and a half later, the Dark Jedi is still following him and spouting many cliched villainous thingymajigs. Following this, Atton had a bit of a fall and found a door.]

The door opens, and Atton, now with an interesting (if somewhat disturbing) collection of bruises and hastily patched up wounds, enters. For a moment, he just stands there and stares at the bar.

And then he laughs, with something that's somewhere between hysteria and outright insanity.

But then he collapses, so that's alright then.

Come bother the not!Jedi?

venusadept_2

Felix has come back inside, and is working on his map. The lines are done, so now he's adding color. The only odd part is that all the colors seem to come from the same pen. For his sanity's sake, he's not trying to color the towns.

weighted-wishes.livejournal.com

There is a brightening...a sparkle seen from the corner of the eye, a breath of fresh air rendolent with exotic spice and possibility. The rustle of rich fabrics, the teasing hint of apple, or honey, or nectar on the tongue between one breath and the next. Childhood giggling and older secrets seem to swim in the air...then there's just a figure.

Wish is in the Bar my friends.

mistressmaryquitecontrary

It's raining in Yorkshire, today; therefore, when Mary comes into the bar, her boots covered in snow, she's dressed almost appropriately for the weather, with a neatly buttoned coat covering her dress.

She has her book of Grimm's Fairy Tales tucked under her arm. When she reaches a table, she sits down, pulls it out and opens it to the story she'd been reading recently, a little frown on her face.

The girl in "The Juniper Tree," she has decided, was not very bright. People's heads don't fall off just like that.

blue_ajah

[From here.]

A bright line slices sharply through the air, widening into a portal. Moiraine steps through into the bar, her appearance shifting from that of Syrenne as she does.

There is strain and deep weariness in the dark-eyed gaze, but her poise is outwardly unmarred. Silently, she glides to a corner booth instead of her usual table, and there seats herself-- accepting with quiet thanks the cup of tea that Holly scampers over with.

She takes a sip and turns slightly in her seat, glancing around the room, subtly observing who is present.

[Moiraine is here due to lack of recent presence, and her mun is studying at the same time, yes really. Tags may be a touch slow as a result, but will be answered. :) ]

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

Aeryn walks into a Bar ~~you think she'd have seen it~~ and takes a seat, ordering a Fellip nectar. The Bar, of course, is Milliways and after a short stint in Earth jail, she may be slightly cranky.

[OOC: Since the rescue plot has been done, even though it's slowtimed...she's here.]

gone_byebye

Ray's past the point of sleeping excessively late these days, but he wasn't in the main Bar for most of today. Some few might have seen him slip out, carrying a Hefty bag and dressed for winter. He's back now, and he got Bar to give him Chinese food- dim sum mostly, since it's been a while since he was able to get to Veggie Heaven, down on Mott Street.

Home is where they eat your food.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Sheeeeee's makin' a list.

CHeckin' it twice.

Gonna find out

...

Well, actually, at this rate, she's going to find out just how last minute Christmas shopping can be. The poor girl is running low on ideas. I mean, some are obvious. But what do you get for the trickster brother that has everything?

Ace inna booth, with the remains of a small pepperoni pizza and a glass of rootbeer, attempting to accomplish that most dreaded of the holiday chores (right after 'cooking Christmas Dinner' and 'sending out Christmas cards', right before 'setting up the tree' and 'dealing with office holiday parties')... The Christmas Gift List.

bloodyrockgod

It's about that time of the year, isn't it. And Charlie, like many a good Catholic boy, has thoughts of Mary and manger and angels. That must mean only one thing: ( music )

Of course, he knows much more than Christmas songs.

the4thsister.livejournal.com

There'a a Paige sitting by the bar yawning, drinking her fourth cup of coffee and sketching people at random, she's a little out of practise owing to the whole Charmed One thing, but she figures since she's here and there are no demons to be vanquished she might as get back into it.

Come be sketched!

Current Mood: sleepy

called_lioness

Lucy's made snow angels, today, and her hair's a bit wet still from it when she comes in and sits in a chair after taking her coat off.

After a moment she reaches for her sack. pulls out a knife from where it had been in its sheath, and a small block of wood, and studies it for a moment.

Then, hesitantly, she begins to carve.

This she's still very good at.

jack_inthegreen

One of many Jacks sits on a sofa and drinks hot cocoa as he reads*.

*Perelandra, for those interested in such things.

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

There's a preston sitting in the bar.

In the exact same place that he's been sitting in since last night as a matter of fact. Bar has thoughtfully provided a glass of water but it remains untouched. He's not crying, that part's done. He's trying to muster the will to continue.

It's not working.

There's a plotlock here. It's for the lack of brain burning. Or well...we want to prevent brain burning.

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

Jason is lounging in the Bar, once again munching on Christmas cookies. Only this time he has hot cocoa to go with them. He's flipping through catalogues and occasionally circling things with a large, red marker.
Feel free to help him procrastinate.

blue_eyed_lord

You probably thought he was gone, that he was defeated and gone.

No.

No defeat is ever truly complete. Time has shown that.

Never truly complete.

And so. After a long absence, full of much thought, the Black Rider once again descends the staircase into the bar proper. He is never truly defeated.

He was never truly gone.

He retrieves a drink (Wine. Red.) and finds a table where he can sit and watch the snow fall beyond the thin glass of a window.

All but a few would be welcome to join him.

Current Mood: thoughtful

gravity_shifter

Sikozu is at a table reading a book. Unfortunately, she's been staring at the same page for some time now. This has nothing to so with the fact that she's noticed certain people chatting a good distance away from her. Not at all.

Feel free to annoy, but be warned, the snark my fly more than usual tonight.

the_antiangst

Angel's still planning things. He's over by the fireplace, sitting on one of the couches, and when he's not drumming on his notebook with the pen, he's writing things in it (an example: how the hell do you wrap one of these things, anyway?). A mug of hot chocolate is on the floor next to him, slowly cooling.
Two weeks until the anniversary (a little time juggling aside) of one of the best nights of his life, if not the overall winner. He's going to make it count.

kayip.livejournal.com

Behrooz is sitting in a booth. He's reading a book that appears to be in Spanish, and there's a plate on the table in front of him with half a sandwich left on it that he doesn't seem too interested in anymore.

Feel free to bother.

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Canonical update]

In one corner of the bar there is a young, curly-haired man with his head resting on his hands on the table. Not really moving. With a couple of glasses beside him.
Right now he couldn't care less how bad it looks.

Current Mood: drunk

red_chilies

Near the front door of the bar, there's somewhere between a pop and a bang -- the sound of air being suddenly and somewhat violently displaced -- and then there are two men standing where there was, a moment before, nothing.

"... this was not where that was supposed to take us," the shorter of the two says.

seker-pride.livejournal.com

[OOM: Prior to this, Strahan dreams. Not really plotty; just something with which to fill in time.]

He sits in the bar next to the fire. Sakti is perched upon one of the chairs while her owner stares into his mug of hot chocolate, complete with liberal amounts of marshmallows as though it contained the secrets of life itself.

Every now and then he thinks of the dream he'd just had, before taking a drink from the mug.

He's usually a quiet sort of man, but tonight he's particularly quiet...

He does have a lot on his mind though...

Current Mood: reflective

puckishly.livejournal.com

Puck has, by this time, gotten himself cleaned up. His hair, tangled as ever, now sports no demon entrails, and he doesn't smell of blood.

There may, however, be something of the battle lingering in his eyes as his fingers idly drum the tabletop.

sf-nosferatu.livejournal.com

The front door opens on what appears to be a sewer tunnel. A moment later, a disfigured man in an impeccable suit steps through.

He blinks in the sudden unexpected light, not noticing the door closing and disappearing behind him. His eyesight adjusts and he sees...

holycraphumans!

He turns to whip back through the door, only to see it no longer there. In a panic, he all but dives into the nearest shadowed booth.

gonna_live

Christmas -- of the future!!! -- is coming. (So's New Year's. They've been conflated, roundabout towards the end of January.)

Kaylee is looking exceptionally thoughtful. And not writing anything down. Some folks get gorram nosy around the holidays.

"Captain's gettin' purple suspenders..."

speaknoweevil.livejournal.com

The front door swings open.

This is not auto shop.

The door swings shut again.

Weevil tries the door to the left of it; it opens onto the boiler room. And the room to the right of the boiler room is auto shop. Least it has been for the past three years.

Huh.

He opens it again. There's the auto shop class, and the smells of wood and oil, and no pigs wandering around.

Head wounds.

not-ho-chunk.livejournal.com

Wisakedjak is outside. He's chosen a spot for his shack, on the far side of the lake, and is now beginning to build it.

A lot of corrugated iron and wood are involved.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

Michael comes in, wearily, with a glass of Antarian wine in his hand that he may have forgotten is there.

He glances up and around, looking for people he knows.

mark-of-samael.livejournal.com

[The Dreaming: Alessa and Nyarlathotep come to an "agreement." Mildly disturbing imagery and redtext abound, with a splash of whitetext for the look of things.]

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR is bored. Fortunately, today he's decided to take care of his boredom by parking near the Bar herself again, rather by trying to annoy people.

Which isn't to sya that he won't eventually; he's just not trying it right now.

His scanner flicks back and forth steadily as he watches the rest of the crowd, humming tunelessly to himself.

scapepig

The bar's resident snow-shuffler comes in from outside and sits by the fire, warming his snout and looking for interesting people to talk to. Or uninteresting ones, he's not fussy.

fiendsoncue.livejournal.com

There are patrons everywhere.

(Take your turn, take a ride)

The Bar's a big place, when you think about it. People everywhere, going about their lives, or unlives as the case may be. All day. All night, so far as 'day' and 'night' apply in this place/time.

(on the merry-go-round)

Some of them are being watched.

(in an inhuman race)

Not all at once, obviously. But over the day (or night, as it may be) the time adds up, and these eyes see much.

(But who can name the face?)

The patterns are clear when you know what to look for, and he knows.

(Masquerade)

They are all so operatic.

[OOC: Salzella is not visibly around. But do tag this post with your pup doing something completely normal, wherever they are in the bar, and the Ghost will reply with one of his trademark roses to be delivered. No obligation to do so - no obligation for follow-up if you just want them to recieve one. Fair warning - he is not a nice man. No.

EDIT: Gone for sleep. However, all tags will be replied to in slowtime!]

righthandwoman.livejournal.com

Zoe's in a chair near the fire. She's got a mug of tea, and a slim volume on eating right during pregnancy.

She is, by the way, fairly visibly pregnant by now. The clothes she has on are looser than what she usually wears, and her gunbelt's been taken from around her waist and rigged as a makeshift shoulder holster.

~~Also the mun finally gets to use pregnant icons. Yay.~~

captain-emerald.livejournal.com

Rimmer appears down in the bar, just to look for his book he left on a table after a conversation with Paige the other day. He doesn't plan on stopping and quite frankly he doesn't look up to stopping there for long. He's not slept since yesterday, or properly for a few days now.

whitewitch-thea.livejournal.com

There's a slim blonde seated in a corner booth. It has a view of the door. It would be foolish to say she's having a good night, she isn't. However, she'll still be disgustingly cheerful if you choose to talk to her. Every few minutes she looks up from her book (which is about animals) to make sure no-one has entered. It's starting to be a nightly routine.

cywyllog

Cywyllog is naturally, by the fire tonight, where she's still doing quite a bit of thinking.

One hand holds a pale coloured rose, which is absently being twirled. She's sucking on the index finger of her other hand. Silly thorns. A girl from Britain should know better.