milliways_bar | Dec. 18th, 2005

Dec. 18th, 2005

forced-pilgrim.livejournal.com

Monkey walks into the Bar on his hands. There's no such thing as Christmas in ancient China, but he was here last year and recognizes the decorations.

Maybe that's why he leaps into the rafters and hangs by his tail, eating mistletoe.

un_fallen

Raguel comes in late, stretching a little as he walks to work the out the soreness in his back. The bar's holiday decor throws him a little, as it has every time he's been in lately. Easy to forget it's December, when the temperature doesn't change; he's not the type to notice the piped-in music in department stores.

He heads for the observation window and sits, looking thoughtfully around the bar.

seker-pride.livejournal.com

As is once again his habit Strahan is sitting in the bar, an overloaded-with-marshmallows mug of hot chocolate in his hands and Sakti sitting somewhere not far from where her master sits.

Next to him is a radio that someone must've placed there earlier playing various songs about various things, though they all seem to be related.

At first there's a song sung by a man with a penchant for stuttering and repeating himself at odd moments. It's a song the man says is a gift from the singer to a man called Santa Claus. And after that a group of people ask the listener if they know it's Christmas yet. And following after that is a song about deer, birth defects of the nose, games, bad weather and sleighs.

Strahan doesn't understand any of this, nor does he draw the connection between the songs and the hat someone just slapped onto his head as they walk by.

All he wants to know is what sort of event has made the bar so glittery and chimey and festive as of late.

Someone should explain it all to him...

Please?

Current Mood: mellow

vaapadmaster.livejournal.com

[[ OOM: Training Session. What Mace might be pondering? ]]

ieatcorkscrews.livejournal.com

Hogswatch apron? Check

Spangly snowflakes in hair? Check

Pile of ribbon-tied bundles of random stuff? Check

Heap of corkscrew-shaped cookies from her followers? Check

Absolutely no idea of what time it is and bright and cheery as anything? Also check

Yep, that's it folks, Anoia in the bar.

cantdofrench.livejournal.com

Look!

There's an Ermengarde sitting at the bar with a cup of tea, people-watching and humming what could well be a Christmas carol under her breath. If you look very closely, you can just see the snowflakes melting in her hair.

Come say hi. You know you want to.

river_meimei

River is curled in a booth, legs tucked underneath her. On the table in front of her is a black box roughly the size of a shoebox; a soft, even voice is emanating from it. It's too quiet for words to be made out from more than a few feet away, but any that close or with superhuman hearing will be able to hear a calmly modulated voice explaining the basic physics of hyperspace vanes in Chur's universe.

River's face is absorbed, and she's listening closely. Her hands twitch as if ticking beads on an imaginary abacus or sketching in mid-air; sometimes she frowns, or her lips move soundlessly.

maydaybrat.livejournal.com

Mordred had lived his life by pretty much one, simple, philosophy - when in doubt, hit something.

This is why he is outside, dressed as a Dark Ages nobleman with his hair tied back, practicing with his sword. Granted, he isn't actually hiting the tree, but this is because trying to smooth and sharpen out dents is a bitch.

slayer_fray

Check it out. Over there. At a table. With food, no less, is Mel.

OK, so she's not happy. She'll still talk to you.

And, yes, it is a scythe, goddammit.

sabinrenefigaro.livejournal.com

Posted to the notice board...

"Wedding Invitation - Sabin Rene Figaro and Lane Kim - Wednesday, 21st, the ceremony will start at 19:00. All those of good faith are welcome."

(As usual, slowtimed, tag as you prefer, follow the ceremony posts... we all know the drill)

chalky-rider.livejournal.com

A slim boy walks through the bar door, an empty crisp packet in one hand. Technically he doesn't have to eat, of course, but some of the preservatives are so delightful.

Brushing his hair back with greasy fingers, he - carefully and with great deliberation - drops the litter onto the floor of the bar.

And then he tilts his head to one side, admiring the aesthetics.

Current Mood: thoughtful

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

There's yet another Prince of Amber in the bar. There seems to be a lot of them about, nowadays.

This one is probably the most sociable of the lot, if only because he's a wretched flirt. If you feel like meeting someone new, some interesting conversation, or a piece of fruit (he has a plate of it) please feel free to stop by.

banished-to.livejournal.com

Hel enters the bar from the stairs. She's even used to ducking under the door frame, at this point. Basket in hand she heads for her favorite seat.

no_justice

Death has a stuffed Ewok.

Death doesn't even kow what an Ewok is

Death and the Ewok are sitting at the bar (or on the Bar in the case of Kettch), looking at each other steadily, lokoing for all the world like two people caught in that awkward silence when no one knows what to say.

inquisitivehero

Hank settles in at the Bar, drink in one hand and brings out his Rather Odd Looking Laptop. He calls up a list and begins making notes, and striking a few names out with a 'd' next to them.

Every now and then he glaces up to look around the Bar.

randomsbastard.livejournal.com

Love him, hate him, indifferent to him? Regardless, Martin is in the bar with a box. It is a largish box, all polished wood and gleaming hinges. It has bottles in it. Martin has gloves on, and is carefully wiping each bottle down with a soft piece of cloth before packing it down carefully.

It should probably be noted that after each bottle is wiped, that piece of cloth is carefully disposed of in a trashcan with a lid next to it. It should also be noted, probably, that he's changing gloves every now and then.

samael-diablo.livejournal.com

Lucifer quite obviously hasn't gotten around to returning that guitar yet. He sits on a side table, leaning against the wall of the bar and not really playing anything concrete; quick chords and short melodies here and there.

This post brought to you by: yet more gorgeous new gift icons.

horseblanket.livejournal.com

Sheila? Oh, she's been around, don't worry.

She's currently stitching something together -- it looks like a very, very old frock. Which, as a matter of fact, it is.

About six months into her pregnancy, she's now stopped eating everything she can find and taken to simply staying in one place for a while and resting. Usually, that's upstairs, with her brother as her hand~~maid~~man for the time, when it isn't her fiancee.

While she's heard Lilly's back, she hasn't seen her yet.

Actually, she hasn't seen much of anyone in a bit.

Miss her?

not_that_spike

Spike steps in from his no-longer-morning run around the lake, shaking off the snow from his shoes and jacket. He stops at the bar, leaning on it for just a minute or two. Warming up, catching his breath.

Then he lays his hand on her surface, palm down. "Hey, Bar. Can you do me a couple favors? I need things that are flat and light and easy to pack but good sources of protein. Shit like jerky, dried fruit, things like that. Enough for a couple people for a couple of days. Think you can..."

Before the sentence is out, supplies appear. With a nod and a grin (I'm grinning to a damn bar, go fucking figure) he says his thanks. "Oh, and one more thing: I need Beth's and my money cards."

Two items that are, for all intents and purposes, debit cards appear. "Thanks. Don't worry, I'll take good care of hers. We're just taking a little trip for Christmas." He tucks the money cards into a very safe pocket on the inside of his jacket.

He turns to go, but one more item appears.

A miniature pine wreath. Spike's smile broadens. "Hey, thanks. Happy Christmas to you, too. Bring you a present from Venus."

Got to love this place.

undignified

Because it's not every day you get to see two different entrance posts with Ewoks in them, there's a Wes in a booth, walking a small Ewok action figure along the edge of the table.

Towards a small fort he's built out of Oreos.

Of course that's a perfectly ordinary thing to do.

He's got a chocolate milkshake, too. Because everyone loves chocolate milkshakes.

gravity_shifter

Sikozu is sitting at the bar, but facing the Christmas tree, staring at it. She knows what it is, of course, having read up on it the first day she saw it. She was rather disappointed to find it had to do with another silly human holiday ritual. Still, she thinks it's rather pretty.

Feel free to annoy.

not-like-lilly.livejournal.com

*Petunia is in the bar, knitting and relaxing a bit before her shift starts. With tea.*

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is in a booth near the trilobite tank, reading from a large blue book. He looks significantly calmer than he did yesterday, although appearances can be deceiving. He has his sign up.

The doctor is in

Have at.

jedipilot.livejournal.com

There are a couple of Joiners sitting at a booth ~~completely and totally unaware of any upcoming doom in their upcoming canon~~.

In between them are two bowls, one partially filled with a few M&Ms, the other empty. The remainder of the M&Ms are scattered between them, as are sabacc cards and the rest of the deck. Jaina grins at Zekk, throwing a few of the candies into the empty bowl, and waits for him to do the same. He eyes her warily, and reluctantly adds a couple of his M&Ms.

Feel free to interrupt the game. Zekk would probably love you for it.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

And now for the time of multiple pups.

Atton is sat at a booth, with a cup of tea that he is making a point of not touching or looking at, chatting amiably to the Dalek and to a broadly grinning Cheshire Cat sprawled in the rafters.

Come and bother them.

[You can tag one, two or all three of the pups, but be prepared that I'll probably use this journal for all tags, whether Atton is actually involved in the thread or not. It's just easier for me.]

bartyjr.livejournal.com

Barty enters the bar and goes straight over to where Morgan is sitting.

In a different millitime, he is sitting on his own, reading.

gone_byebye

Ray makes his way in through the front door, heads upstairs, and returns with a small blue bag the size of his fist. This he places on the bar, and watches his tab plummet.

"Any chance of getting a holorecorder a la the one Lieutenant Naraht got for me before the trip to Bizarro New York?"

Weeeee goes the tab into the red again.

"yeah, I know. I'll return it when I'm done. Consider this a rental."

With that he takes the recorder and his training remote and heads for the back door. Yesterday's workout didn't really happen, so he might as well get in some extra now.

aj_crawley

[OOM: Millitimed to late Friday night, Aziraphael and Crowley actually meet face-to-face. Quelle bizarre! Rated, um... high. Adult content.]

slayer_fray

The mun is a sheep.

Bleet, mun, bleet.

For lo, she has finally given into temptation and there's a joint pup entry.

Two girls from suite 132, both members of Security to some degree, both occasionally loud, argumentative and bossy, in the Bar.

The Slayer is smirking slightly as she picks up fries and a plate of something leafy from the Bar, the latter of which is set down for the dinosaur, who is resplendant today in her pink glittery bulletproof vest.

Mel and Cera. Two self-righteous know-it-alls for the price of one.

live-to-feel.livejournal.com

Couch? Check.

The Complete Works of Arthur Miller? Check.

Dog as footwarmer? Check.

Bowl of fruit? Check.

... Mary's just fine, really.

In fact, there's little to no reason to move from this spot, but company's welcome.

the4thsister.livejournal.com

Paige is asleep in a booth, she's also holding a cup of coffee that is about to tip over on some notes she's been making for spells back home.

No good can come of this, come wake up a sleepy Charmed One!

Current Mood: sleepy

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

And while Svava had been outside today (and in the greenhouse even earlier before that), a light snowfall and the evening dusk has brought her back in. She can be found at a table with a cup of hot chocolate, and with papers scattered before her. The former Valkyrie is working on runes, again, and occasionally scribbles some notes or mutters to herself.

Edielwiess, draped across Svava's shoulders as a living calico kitty warmer, is unworried.

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith inna booth, with coffee and a shopping list.

Come poke.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda walks up to the bar from her booth with a stack of papers.

It's a ( note )

"Lady Bar. Can you please Deliver these when next they approach you?"

The invites go to:

Strahan
Magius and Nina
Paige and Dave
Hank ad Catherine
Snowball
Asar-Suti and Gil
Lando
Connor
Methos
Thomas
Anita
Gimli
Guppy
Abs
Naraht
Mace
Pheobe
Piper
Dinah
Elrond
Billy
Isaac
Helen
Namo
Bruce
Hannibal
Han Solo
CJ
Random and Ramon
Sky
Ray
Silk
Col. Shepard
Lobo

young_tmriddle

Things are unsettled in London Below. Or at least, they are even more so. The Night on the Bridge is escaping its bounds. This is something unprecedented, and Tom honestly does not know what to do about it.

He's spent most of the day canvassing the Underside for more traces, but so far, nothing else has been detected and no one else is missing. Or no one has been reported missing that he knows of.

He's not crossed Knightsbridge, however. Not yet.

So tonight he hopes to consult with old friends to see if anything like this has happened in their worlds.

OOC: Gavroche has followed Tom to the bar and might be listening in to a few conversations without Tom's knowledge.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

[ooc: Letter to Crowley]

speaknoweevil.livejournal.com

Weevil's discovering fried paradoxes. Specifically, he's discovering that fried paradoxes are cheap, that fried paradoxes are tasty, and that fried paradoxes will fill an empty stomach.

The fried paradoxes are also discovering Weevil, but as their discoveries are currently limited to his esophagus and stomach lining, the narration will gracefully exclude them.

monster-made.livejournal.com

Tall, pretty vampire, dressed in black, inna bar.

Scowling at the stupid Christmas tree.

Bother at will.

sendpeanutbtr.livejournal.com

[OOM: Claire and Snow go Christmas shopping in NYC. Millitimed to 12/14.]]

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

A pale and gaunt young wizard in the bar. His grey eyes coolly observe the room.
Like his PB, he's dressed in black clothes, with his school robe over top like a cape.
Picture a prince surveying his kingdom, and you get the idea.
He seems much more confident troubled than he was yesterday somehow.

(ooc: be warned before tagging, he does NOT play nice with others. Especially now. He's deliberately looking to cause trouble or do something nefarious. ping me in crackchat or at whspr2ascrm13 if you have questions.)

cywyllog

Cywyllog is sitting near the fire, but not as close as she usually is. Insterad, she's facing the main bar, a shawl around her shoulders for warmth.

It appears people watching is more interesting than thinking tonight. Or she has everything figured out, but how likely is that? Feel free to ask.

atreides-ghani.livejournal.com

The door opens. On the other side is a lavishly decorated hallway in the Imperial Palace on Arrakis. A young woman walks through, dressed in a Fremen stillsuit and carrying a sheaf of papers.

"Leto," she says without looking up. "I've got the treaties you wanted from Stil and the other Naibs. You'll need to take a look at them before I hand them off to Farad'n for transcribing."

"Leto?" When no answer is forthcoming, she finally looks up. "Oh. Well, then."

grovecj.livejournal.com

CJ in the Bar. For a change, he did not charge in avoiding a hail of bullets. Have at.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[OOM. Cairo, Egypt 1938 - Indy is moved to a Cairo prison and subjected to more abuse when he refuses to help his captors. The trend of one-sided R-rated violence continues...]

capt_angie

The jar and sign are still on the end of the bar.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack is back in the bar.

Feel like playing with the frost?

Go on. We dare you.

caramel-colored.livejournal.com

Hunter is dirty and sweaty and tired, but her smile is still fierce.

She's hunting something, after all. Even if it's only information.

At the moment, though, she's in the bar for food, and drink, and a place the Night can't reach.

London Below doesn't have that same certainty, at the moment.

iwasalevel6.livejournal.com

Anthony was curled up on the couch, thinking. On the floor sat a cup of hot chocolate and the perpetual bowl of soup.

Current Mood: thoughtful

the_antiangst

Angel inna bar, to say nothing of the skirt.
Couch by fireplace, hot chocolate and paradoxes, notebook open to Christmas planning - the standard of the last couple weeks.
Less than a week to go, now.

it_has_teeth

Out in the lake, someone is swimming.

He never stops swimming.

To stop swimming, to stop moving, is to die.

Pity he's already dead, then, isn't it?

ed'Rashtekaresket, the Master Shark, circles his tiny domain.

He might be restless. He might not be.

You're welcome to find out.

3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com

These horribly cold early morning workouts still don't sit well with Goldilocks, but she can't deny that they are doing her a world of good. Notwithstanding that her sleep patterns are well and truly fucked up, she's finally getting to grips with some of Liam's Shang techniques, and she's getting some much-needed exercise at the same time, all in exchange for some second-nature marksmanship skills.

Goldy can't remember the last time she felt this healthy or had this much energy. And that's pleasing. She hasn't even taken a nap since Wednesday afternoon.

Tonight she's at the bar with a contented smile, quite radiant and oozing more than her usual class. Her outfit consists of a white turtleneck and tan suede pants over her usual heeled boots. A light gray calf-length coat is folded under her stool, and there are brown leather gloves on the counter near her glass of Chardonnay.

Basically, she's got the Look.

gramarye1971

It's true that Merriman hasn't been frequenting the bar of late, and so for the moment he's unaware of any nefarious plots that may or may not have been set into motion in his absence.

How long he will remain unaware -- and what his overall reaction might be to said plots -- is open to debate.

But for now, he's absorbed in the Times crossword.

[OOC: Open thread, but please ping before tagging so the mun can get to sleep at a reasonable hour. Thanks!]

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

[ooc: Millitimed to... Last week! Yes! Why not? The Tonks-Wrangles do a little decorating, and Tom and Ingress stop by. Whee!]

balletrat

*Upon arriving at the bar, Meg's received her Christmas present from her cousin; currently, she's peering at the shiny DVD cases, and alternating between squee (Ballet! On DVD!) and curiosity as to why Kitty would have dropped them off so soon.*

kitchen_maid

Amy has gotten a little bored with embroidery lately, and with all her Christmas presents made, she's ready to try something new.

And so she's settled into a booth tonight, with a book called "Knitting for Beginners" propped open in front of her, knitting needles (held incorrectly) in hand, and a skein of blue wool (which Simon Perryvall has already chewed through three times).

In short, it's not going well. Please either come help this girl, or give her an excuse to put the whole mess down for a while.

Please.

learningtosee.livejournal.com

Stella is stitting at a table, calmly knitting what will be a... something or other. She probably shouldn't be working on christmas presents in the bar, but her room is much too quiet and she is feeling lonely.

Also her mun discovered that she now has six userpics. Joy!

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

There's a Max slipping in through the front door, a few suspiciously present-like packages tucked under her arm. She slips up to her room to stow them before heading back down to the bar to curl up with a cup of coffee and watch the universe end.

Feel free to bother the X5.

blue_eyed_lord

Snow falls unmelted from his black cloak as the Rider enters from the cold. He is smiling.

Fear.

This calls for wine.

fairest1.livejournal.com

*Snow enters the bar and looks around, smiling at the festive decor. She obtains a mug of hot chocolate and a book from Bar before settling into the usual booth*

no-comb-shep.livejournal.com

Sheppard is lounging in a booth, tossing a paper wad up and down idly. A few paper airplanes are scattered across the booth's table, some looking like they've had better flights than others. For a moment, he glances to the rest of the bar, watching the various goings-on. Judging from his bored expression, company would be welcomed.

iwasalevel6.livejournal.com

[ oom: The Hollywood Plot - Girl Issues

Christine tries to make a move on Tony and gets rejected. Tony tries to make a move on Michelle and gets rejected. Elaine tries to make a move on Tony and...wins! ]

symbiote-venom.livejournal.com

Venom dives to the side to avoid a pumpkin bomb, cursing mentally.

'We had the spider. He was ours. But then this...goblin had to come along and interfere, and now...'

Venom crouches low, watching the Green Goblin carefully. He was atop his glider, his crazed eyes flicking back and forth between Venom and Spider-Man. He giggled maniacally and hurled another pumpkin bomb, this time at Spider-Man, who dodged it.

Venom lashes out at the Green Goblin with a symbiote-tentacle, but the mad-man dodges it easily, hurling another bomb, which Venom has to duck to avoid.

"Do not think I am fighting to save you for some idiotic reason like kindness, Parker. I simply want you all to myself when I kill you." says Venom, watching his temporary ally closely. Spider-Man just shakes his head and sighs, his eyes locked on the Green Goblin. "Wouldn't dream of it..."

The Green Goblin chuckles madly and presses a button on his belt. "Let's see how you handle my new toy!" A small cannon appears on the front of his glider, humming dangerously. It fires a moment later, the blast so strong the glider flies backwards several feet.

Venoms eyes widen as he watches the twisting sphere of black energy fly towards Spider-Man, who was too injured from his earlier battle with the symbiote to dodge fast enough. Without thinking, Venom hurls himself at the wall-crawler, knocking him out of the way but getting caught in the blast himself.

Venom does not feel the pain he thought he would. Instead, he feels an odd tugging sensation, as if something he couldn't see has a hook in him and is tugging him towards it. Everything goes black suddenly, and then Venom finds himself lying in a small pile of snow.

"What the..."

Venom looks around in confusion. Definitely not New York. He can see a forest in one direction, and a tavern in the other.

'Be careful' the symbiote tells him through their mental link, 'We must use extreme caution here. I sense that any violence will not be tolerated by the powers that watch over this place. Best to go by the rules until we can get out of here. Then we kill the spider.'

Venom nods, and the symbiote quickly changes until it has taken on the appearance of its host, Eddie Brock, wearing a long trench-coat, a black shirt, jeans, and running shoes. He makes his way quickly to the tavern and enters, looking around in mild confusion.

"Where the hell am I?"

jane_drew

Jane keeps her rucksack packed, these days. She can feel that the door will open soon, even though it continues not to.

That's why she comes down tonight.

To try again.

(ooc: Plotlocked, say sorry.)

Current Mood: hopeful

song_tra_bong

Mary Anne's in her booth with a bottle of vodka and a shot glass. The bet comes due tomorrow, to say nothing of her new...whatever with Julian, so she figures she's earned a drink.

She's pretty laid back, considering. Come on over--she'll even get you your own shot glass.

river_meimei

The black shoebox-sized taped book Chur gave her is on the table again. It's not playing right now, though. Instead, River has a stylus and what looks like a sheet of paper in a small frame, with a few buttons down the side. It's actually the equivalent of an entire notebook; quick taps of the stylus change pages, erase sections or save others, rotate the page or enlarge it.

She's making notes in quick, jittery motions. Anyone looking at it will see tidy handwriting that is nonetheless an incomprehensible mash of equations, diagrams, and cryptic notes to herself. (Someone with a great deal of knowledge of hyperspace physics will be able to make some headway in understanding, though even they will run into the problem of the fact that it's an insane genius writing this.)

She's absorbed in her work. There's a forgotten cup of hot chocolate on the table next to her, half-drunk and slowly cooling.

blond-w-brain.livejournal.com

Egon Spengler comes down the stairs again. He eyes the tab, and his eyebrows raise, wondering who put something in for him. Then the answer became obvious.

He taps as he's seen other people do, and says, "One quart Jolt cola, two twinkies, and a peanut butter and marshmallow Fluff sandwich please. Oh, and some M&Ms." The foodstuffs are produced, and Egon takes them to a table.

He sits, and eats. There's more chairs there, if people want to greet the man with the Hair That Should Not Have Left The 80s.

buddyofchrist.livejournal.com

oom: Reconciliation between Bodyguard and . . . body? Bodyguardee? Biff and Hermione ~~kiss and~~ make up.

sabinrenefigaro.livejournal.com

Besides the general invite for the Winter Solstice, the following people receive personal invites for the ceremony:

- Cywyllog;

- Gimli;

(Lane-mun will post here who Lane is inviting personally.)

caramel-colored.livejournal.com

[OOM: In the House of Arch, Hunter makes a report to Tom Riddle, and they investigate. Pity they don't have Scooby Doo with them.]

lastczarnian.livejournal.com

Lobo. Bar. Beer. Brooding.

Do you feel lucky?

gonna_live

Kaylee looks Smug.

Really, really Smug.

Because she knows what she's getting people for New Year's. Unlike Mal. Or Wash.

...though she hasn't heard anything about it from Simon, which is intriguing. And cause for speculation, at a table, with hot chocolate that may or may not be spiked with creme de menthe. It is also apparently cause for humming -- words written to the tune of a nonsense song called "Blue Lemming".

(Twentieth-century-types might know it as "Blue Christmas".)

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

OOM: A Letter is Sent.

devils-dandy.livejournal.com

Because the mun is crazy and has decided not to sleep, there is a vampire in the bar tonight.

He will likely be milling about, people watching, keeping an eye out for specific individuals, but he would not mind company or an interruption.

He's been almost reasonable lately, even. This is as good a time as any.

gwion-bach.livejournal.com

He's made it up to Beethoven, now, in his broad study of Western music.

In front of Gwion harper -- next to the glass of metheglyn at his hand -- is a conductor's score of the Ninth Symphony. The pages are open to the last movement.

And he is beaming.