milliways_bar | Jan. 10th, 2006

Jan. 10th, 2006

magick-willow.livejournal.com

*Willow walks downstairs, carrying a laptop case. She's decided to test out a theory on wireless internet in bar. She grabs a mug of cider on her way to find a seat*

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

It's getting dark out. Or perhaps it's not, you decide. Regardless, if you look very carefully in a certain tree, you might see a pair of leather-clad legs swinging. If you're really lucky, she might jump on you.

silver_flecks

Delirium's sitting with her daughter next to her.

Derry's getting big.

She's laughing and babbling with a few words even understandable to most people here and there as she watches her mummy work.

And Del is working, stringing beads on thread.

This is called, after trying to go to sleep and giving up, the mun's resigned herself to SOMEONE'S voice being particularly loud, so she may as well get an entrance post.

"Yes, I know," she replies thoughtfully to the babbling, and then a moment later, "No, you can't have a Malibu Barbie. Negative stereotype. Thingies. I don't know." A pause, then, "It is NOT that I can't get the plastic twisty things off, you little rugrat person Derry delightful girl!" Tickling her and when Derry laughs, Delight laughs with her.

namo

[OOM: Room 144 -- After leaving Lee in the bar, Námo returns to his room furious. Gorlim senses this and immediately comes to him. They discuss their CTU agent, the ending of the First Song of Eä, Gorlim's desire to return home, and Námo's offer and promise to him. Minor woe warnings, as well as minor sexual stuffies toward the end that fades before we can make too many people uncomfortable. ;)]

gorlim.livejournal.com

This is not the Adan you are looking for.

He's just the messenger.

Gorlim scrambles down to the bar sometime significantly after a certain recently posted OOM, and sets a letter on the bar for delivery.

( To Bernard )

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

After long days away from Milliways Amanda is back. Downstairs and...sleeping. It would seem that she has fallen asleep on the couch by the fire. It also seems that her dreams are rather troubled as she is tossing and turning. There isn't any screaming...yet. So perhaps someone should wake her up before she falls off the couch.

firewitandhate.livejournal.com

Sadly, for all the drink last night, he never got drunk. So, starting to figure out what exactly the laws of this... time were, Loki Skywalker is getting used to Milliways.

Feel free to give him whatever helpful information or recriminations you feel like directing his way.

(ooc: Mun may be sleeping/napping, so there may be some slowtime)

withamagicword

Billy sits at the Bar and sips on a chocolate milkshake as he watches the bar. His pad is next to him, as is a novel that Bar provided, and a stack of papers for him to work on. Seems even with his current situation he cant avoid homework. But he can put it off. So there he is watching the bar.

venusadept_2

Felix's hand has recovered, but his disposition has not. In other words, Felix is in a Mood.

He's currently stomping around the lake. The ground around him is shuddering.

Anyone want to break the Mood?

silverageflash.livejournal.com

OOM: Barry dreams, and learns that the finish line is near.

Barry left the room quietly, careful not to disturb Sara, and came downstairs early. He's been at the window for an hour now, studying the end of the universe, and feeling oddly calm.

He'll tell Sara, of course. How could he not? But for now, he isn't ready to tell anyone else. There will be time. And in that time, there is much to do, for the Bar, for his friends.

For the moment, though, Barry just looks out the window.

[ooc: slowtime, as always, is possible]

Current Mood: contemplative

goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com

Clive was in the bar, same place he'd been the day before, top hat still on the table next to his notebook, scribbling away, the book was almost full at the moment, and now more full of lyrics than doodles.

Someone might want to ask him if he's slept, because he obviously stopped scribbling long enough to go get food, as evidenced by the french toast sticks beside him, though he has only eaten one, perhaps two of them, still scribbling away, intently focused.

(mun's at work, slowtime is possible, so if that's good with you, tag away, though be warned, Music's got him, which means he's probably contagious, though it's far from the worst it's going to get.)

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

Carl Denham's being drawn to this place.

That's the easiest way to put it. That and Jack's here, and he's worrying that-well? His friend might be even more crazy then he is.

So, Carl has a stack of magazines under one arm, and some apples, and he's looking out for Jack.

But hey, others can tag him too.

door-2-door.livejournal.com

The Salesman has settled into a booth today, out of the way, and quiet. His coffee, paperwork, and a briefcase are spread out over about half the table. The rest of the booth, however, is clear.
Probably not for the purpose of welcoming company, but it lends itself well to it, don't you think?
Either way, the man is seemingly unconcerned with his surroundings. Just don't believe for a second, that he's actually distracted.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Drumming fingers.

Staring out the observation window.

Half-cold tea.

Neglected newspaper.

You get the picture. Random of Amber is in the bar.

lvpd_sidle

She had woken up alone. And for some reason, that had disturbed Sara.

She makes her way downstairs, finding a booth and ordering breakfast.

wolfskincoat.livejournal.com

The same red hat and gloves. The same black sheepskin coat. They are all removed on enterring the warmth of the bar to reveal the small person - not quite a little girl, not yet a grown woman - underneath, flushed with what may be the sudden heat, or may be recent exersion.

Clad now in black pants and a white turtleneck sweater, Red ruffles out her hat hair with one hand as she makes her way to the bar and orders a hot toddy, cupping it in both hands and breathing in the warmth.

banished-to.livejournal.com

Hel has no idea.

She makes her way into the bar, ducking under the lintel, and heads for a corner where she will be out of the way. Not unnoticed, but out of the way.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

One of the most aggravating things in the world is fixing your sleeping schedule. This, alas, is the sad story of mun's life at the mo, wanting to go to sleep but not for the sake of seeing the sun. So she's throwing Jack in with the hyperactive coffee icon because she'd really, really, really like a cuppa right about now.

Jack, being a smart boy, is drinking coffee now, as well as a bowl of oatmeal. There's an uneaten apple sitting on his table top that he's not going to share with anyone, because he's stingy like that.

monster-made.livejournal.com

Kate is tired. Having just woken up will do that to a vampire.

She's also hungry, which is not necessarily a good thing. But she's in the bar, so she's going to try the old blood-in-a-glass-from-the-bar trick and see if it works this time.

Feel free to find out if it does.

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

The Lord of Winter is standing by the lake.

Bruised, bloody, battered and looking rather rather victorious.

Go on. Speak to him.

Dare you.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda and Lando walk back into the bar after a trip to Tatoonie. Where they had a delightful date. There is no schmut or sexual content of any kind. Just a nice pleasent journey with a side of plotting. Plotting for what? Well only one way to find out.

They two take a seat at a table hand have a nice meal.

[OOC: This post is just the OOM. Please no tagging for conversations with these pups here. Thank you.]

banished-to.livejournal.com

After this

Hel has made it out into the cold, by the lake. It is more than possible that she was noticed, because fifteen feet of fleeing death goddess is rather noticeable.

Warning: she is very likely to use things the size of Men as makeshift teddy-bears.

gone_byebye

Ray's got an evening shift watching over Danny tonight. He'll be bringing along a couple of new books. The ghost keeps threatening to kill him and making new attempts at insulting his ancestry, but sooner or later he'll find a way to get hold of Danny's friends and start the ball rolling, and in the meantime the whole confinement thing has him twinging with guilt. Hence, books.

For now, though, he really needs to get out of doors, so he's done like he said to Raph last night and opted for daytime running instead of evening. It's cold as anything, but at least he's under an open sky.

mnr_splinter

[OOM: Michaelangelo receives an unexpected visitor in Suite 134.]

Shortly after lunch, Mike heads downstairs with his master in tow and points out the front door to him. The short kimono'd rat simply nods favorably to his student and ambles across the bar with his walking stick tapping on the bare boards. Apparently indifferent to any of the clientele or surroundings, he opens the door and continues out into the New York alleyway beyond.

Once the door has closed, Mike doesn't stick around either.

smith-jane-mrs.livejournal.com

Assassin innabar... well, heading down the stairs and flicking her hair back over her shoulder before heading over to the bar proper.

If you want to talk to her you're welcome to join her over there.

Despite the smirk and the probability of snark, she's really quite personable.

last_adam

*Shepherd's pie and a cider. Oh, yes, and an antichrist to go along with.*

sendpeanutbtr.livejournal.com

Claire by the fire. Peony in her lap. Add tea and a book and you have the usual.

Except today the book is really a newpaper. And it isn't so much baby names this time as apartment listings.

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah walked into the bar, there was a paper and sequin tiara crooked across her forehead and she was wearing a pair of wire and tulle wings. She had managed to weasel her way out of a tutu, but was wearing a long gypsy-style skirt and a jingly anklet.

She shook her head, nudged her tiara back into place and padded over to the observation window, chiming gently all the way.

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

[OOM (with rocks in): Mark ~~comes out of the~~ raids Roger's closet.]

The door opens, and a stereotypical musician walks through. Messy blonde hair, leather jacket, band t-shirt and ripped jeans. Not to mention the Fender guitar case. He sits down at a table, pulls out the guitar and tries to tune up.
This won't tune. So we hear.
That's not a musician, though. That's Mark Cohen, sans camera, scarf, and glasses, and looking one hell of a lot like his roommate. Feel free to boggle.

[ooc note: Mark is under the influence of Music with Rocks In. It can be contageous. But it doesn't have to be.]

withrocksin

The front door seems to have disappeared. If not for the sheer amount of potential around the bar, Buddy might have to be just a bit upset about that.
Oh well; this place will do, for now.
So patiently awaiting for your ears to behold
Somewhere along the line, he got his hands on a guitar. To that end, he's down in the bar - in the vicinity of the piano, let's say - and playing nothing in particular. Still sounds damn good, though, whatever it is.
Do hope you're paying attention.

guppy_sandhu

There is a large black cat asleep on Guppy's feet as he sits in his usual booth near the fire.

He is doing the Su Doku from the back of the Holby Gazette, but his mind is elsewhere. Mainly it's generally feeling irritated at the fact that Abs is effectively blackmailing him into being stuck here for the week. He feels restless and cooped up, not to mention the fact that he hasn't been able to visit his father.

The doctor is in

[ooc: Mun back but working, responses will be slow]

Current Mood: bloody annoyed

mumbling-truth.livejournal.com

Well here's someone who hasn't been seen that much of late.
Probably because he's been relaxing with the love of his life, and patiently waiting for winter's end.
The filled up notebooks in their room also attested to the amount of writing he's done. Pages of stories and poems.
Even inklings of a play were beginning to emerge.
As it was, once again, Todd the Poetboy's in the bar.

http://users.livejournal.com/_hear_no_evil/

[OOM: "The world is the place I mean," Tom said.

But I don't think we're in Kansas, anymore, Tommy.

After all, this is not Nick's world.]

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam is bartending.

Have at!

kindred_spirit

School is back in session in White Sands, which means that Gilbert has gone back to using the schoolhouse door, which means that it was really only a matter of time before he wound up back in Milliways.

But he's had a very nice break, from both teaching and the bar, and he's not displeased to be here. After all, being here should be more interesting than making the list for this week's spelling bee, especially since he can't quite remember how to spell all the words for it.

Chrysanthamum? Or is it chrysanthemum?

So, here's Gil, with tea and a contented smile.

Come talk to the boy. Especially if you know whether that should be an a or an e.

firewitandhate.livejournal.com

Loki Skywalker walks through the back door, out into the outside with a sky completely different. He's just wandering around the lake and associated places, seemingly unbothered by the lack of heat outside.

At the moment, he's looking at the sky, apparently thinking.

scapepig

There is a large pig by the fire, still playing with his new toy. He has a large sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal, with which he is drawing a complicated diagram.

Now and again he stops and rubs his bandaged ears on the floor. Itchy.

astral-brat.livejournal.com

~~Baby~~ Little not'Jedi at the Bar, eating noodles.

Ben seems quite happy for now, though he's withdrawn from the Force again. Always the bad feelings, he senses. Either that or it's too loud, too many distractions, in the main bar like this.

There's also a red-and-grey X-wing beside his bowl. He might have ~~stolen~~ borrowed it from Wes last night. (At least he didn't pick up the yellow-and-black one...)

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin comes downstairs, a little wary of the place still, especially since this is the first time he's come downstairs without his brother. He's okay, though.

He heads to the bar for coffee.

seker-pride.livejournal.com

[OOM: Strahan's still confined to his room; only this time, he's dreaming rather than staring into space.]

Current Mood: awake

undergnd-leader.livejournal.com

There's a Jurgen in the bar, wrapped in a borrowed coat smelling of mothballs.

He's reading, something that he's been doing ever since arriving.

One would think he's afraid to go back.

dreamer_fray

Mel's gone off somewhere to beat stuff up.

Without Harth.

He is not sulking.

He is sitting perfectly happily at the bar with a glass of blood. And vodka.

What?

[OOC: Is late, and I must to the train. I love you all. Slowtimes will be picked up if anyone wants to carry them on.]

gravity_shifter

Sikozu is somewhere in the bar, on the floor, surrounded by books. It's research time again.

If you're observant enough, you might notice most of the books have to do with childcare in some way. Feel free to ask why.

sanguimmuno.livejournal.com

The heavy robes on the man who has just entered Milliways are floating about two inches above the ankle. There's a valid reason for that, but it doesn't matter now.

What matters now are spirits. And lots of them.

Salazar Slytherin enters, takes one good, long, angry look around, curses, waves his robes to their normal slack state and goes straight to Bar to order a drink.

Come, bother, he just might tell you why his robes were all floaty!

95-tan.livejournal.com

She heads for the karaoke stage. Gone is the pink kimono; she's in something a good deal more revealing. The bundle of blue fabric is still there, of course- even with the new image, some things just can't be let go.

She pulls a microphone from... somewhere.

( ...and sings )

In short, the idol singer content of the bar has increased by one.

[OOP: Yeah, With Rocks In plot. Contagious, if you're down with that; Girl in a silly outfit singing if you're not. La.]

Current Mood: excited
Current Music: White Destiny, Pretear OST

not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com

Castle ~~burning~~ sitting in a booth, looking a bit out-of-sorts.

Because mun is working on large, unpleasant term paper, he won't be hugely inclined towards conversation, but he's around.

Fire at will.

goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com

Clive was still in the same booth, he'd finished with one notebook and had had to get another from the bar, writing more quickly than before, brow creased, still intently focused on his work, though he hadn't slept even yet since his meeting with Buddy the day before.

There were the remnants, now petrified, of a french toast stick breakfast, gluey maple syrup and a handful of french toast sticks roughly the texture of plywood. In his defence, he'd eaten a few of them, y'know, three. It was just that there were other things that needed his attention

He was also just a little contagious to some people. To everyone else, he'd probably just look crazy.

(yup, he's got a bad case of Music Pox if you want him to give it to you, great, if not, that's good too. I can be ping-ed on AIM either way: JediGorse )

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

There is an Ace, at the Bar, munching on her dinner of quesadillas and coke. This is an Ace in an intolerably cheerful mood - amazing how good news can cheer one up. She'll probably share the food if, y'know, someone asks.

Or takes.

She's amenable to that too.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

There is a young british midshipman in the bar, 'studiously' watching the Observation Windows. Studiously, perhaps, if this was something Wellard had to do. However, this being something he has chosen to do- It is certainly done with much more interest.

So, with a cup of tea at hand, he is sketching and recording constellations in between explosions. (While things are busy exploding, there are sketches of flying ships, though not based on anything really factual. They are rather fun to figure out, though.)

Current Mood: bemused

2nd-feanorian.livejournal.com

There was a Noldorin harper in the bar, idly playing ragtime on the piano.-

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine comes downstairs.

Her T-shirt now says "Married Milliways Barmaid--Hands Off!" She didn't ask the Bar to do that.

Wonderful, silly Bar.

Come say hello!

h-constant.livejournal.com

Hobart watched the tea.

She watched the faint few bubbles on the surface swirl and stick to the rim of the mug, pale against the actual brew - tiny windows into the world beyond that surface.

The edge of a fingernail brought a rift among them, popped them, scattered them, eliminated them, and brought such ripples in its wake.

Somewhere, someone screamed.

Not all dreams are blue.

royal-guarantor.livejournal.com

OOM: Waking up

Roshaun and Dairine walk down the stairs together, in mid-discussion.

He's every inch a king, as usual and to Dairine's irritation.

Tag either or both.

badderthanyou

[OOM: Dawn's Diary]

And.... this is really not the bathroom people. This is a bar. And while I could, possibly, take a look at my head here, I really think my bathroom mirror would work much better. Really.

Whatever.

Dawn, complete with mild cranial injury, makes her way to the bar for something to eat. Hey, she's here, she might as well take advantage of it. When she goes home, there's a crazy vampire and far too many potential slayer types to contend with. Not to mention, a town full of not much.

mistressmaryquitecontrary

It's been a few days since Mary Lennox has ventured into the bar - well, to be honest, it's been a few days since she's ventured far out of her room in the Manor.

When she enters, she doesn't intend to stay long, but she's had a lot of time to think, little as she wants to, and she comes to the conclusion that there's a few things she has to do.

She looks her stiffest as she walks in through the back door and through the room, in order to place two letters on the counter

( Ingress )

( Duo )

This accomplished, she turns away from the bar; her expression is sullen, but her head is high and straight.

badinlatin

Mal is back for his second straight appearance, but this time with a purpose - he's going out to the stables. He hasn't checked on Tequila in longer than he would like. This is why he's picking up a thermos of cocoa before he goes out in the cold.

He's got a smile on his face though, so if you catch him he'll be in a good mood.

[OOC: will be slow for a bit, but am also working on slowtimes from last night.]

deadwood-doc.livejournal.com

It had been a long day. A couple of new arrivals to camp -- brothers -- had decided to try and double their money at the Bella Union. Someone should have warned them that, in the end, the house always wins.

They lost everything.

That's when the shooting started.

After it was all said and done, one of the brothers was dead. He was the lucky one; the other had taken a scattergun shot to the gut. Doc Cochran had worked on him for hours in one of Bella Union's rooms (with Cy standing over his shoulder constantly dropping cigar ashes into the boy's wounds), but in the end there wasn't much he could do but tell the whore who'd been serving as the informal nurse to bring up a bottle of whiskey and try to keep him as comfortable as she could until he passed. Dying from a gut wound is a long and painful experience.

And so it is that Doctor Amos Cochran, a half-empty bottle of his own whiskey in hand, stumbles into his office which also serves as his home. At least, that was the plan.

The bottle drops from his hand and shatters on the floor as he stares wide-eyed at his surroundings. His voice is gravelly and sounds as if the soul behind it is three times older than the body that carries it. "What in God's name is going on?"

creator_raven

Raven is settled in a booth, a wide band of soft leather in her hands. She appears to be sewing patterns on it in red and blue and gold thread.

Unsurprisingly there is a plate of cookies by her elbow and a glass of milk in front of her.

Occasionally she tilts her head, frowning slightly, and chooses a slightly different shade of thread.

Also there are paperclips. She's sometimes easily distracted.

Though she does not, it seems, mind interruptions.

That might be what the second and third glasses are for.

geeky-agent.livejournal.com

Chris pushes open the door, expecting to find her outside of the club and instead finding herself inside of Milliways.

She blinks a few times before realizing where she was. Deciding this change in scenery is a good thing she walks further into the bar, confetti trailing from her hair and clothes, looking for a few familiar faces.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Sooo, wizard in the bar, there's still a cane by him, though his leg's been healing nicely now.
It's partly for show and sympathy these days than needed use.
Draco's got some dinner, and he's carefully watching the bar as well.
Never know who might turn up.

vaapadmaster.livejournal.com

Jedi Master in a booth, with tea. Feel free to bug him.

nita_callahan

Nita is lounging on the couch by the fire, with tea, in the right bloody community this time.

Well, lounging for a given value of lounge. She doesn't quite have that boneless flop down.

jedipilot.livejournal.com

Jaina sits at a booth, idly picking at a nerf burger while staring at a small list on her datapad. A couple of datachips and a chocolate milkshake sit on the table nearby.

She stares at the list for a second before crossing out something on the screen and scribbling a couple of new ideas down instead. Her eyes look up to the door for a moment and Jaina shakes her head, turning her attention back to her notes.

jaded-jedi.livejournal.com

[OOM: Mara has a surgery, then wakes up...looking crappy.]

The door opens, and a pale, sallow skinned Mara Jade Skywalker pads through the door in hospital garb, a robe held tightly around her. One sleeve of the robe is bloody, from a ripped out IV.

She looks disoriented, then worried, turning to make sure the door is still there.

She shakily heads to a table and sits. Maybe getting up so soon wasn't a good idea.

terror-soars.livejournal.com

Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!

...No, you were right, it's just a bird. A big red pterodactyl-shaped one.

But as it soars around the skies of the grounds near the bar, it transforms into a robot. It aims its shoulder cannons and fires glowing yellow (plasma) bullets at some sticks standing upright in the snow below.

The targets hit and handily demolished, Terrorsaur lowers himself to the ground.

"I still got it!" he crows. He smiles at the carnage.

The smile slowly drops from his face as he shoulder cannons deactivate. "Terrorsaur the Stick Smasher. Yeah, they'll be naming warships after me."

Villains always talk to themselves. It's a rule.

Want to be around to hear him?

still-michael.livejournal.com

Well, look at that. There's someone you don't see every day.

Unless you're Kitt, in which case the sight of Michael Knight with a cheeseburger would be something almost disturbingly regular.

Michael was only in Milliways for a bit, long enough to see if there was anyone he knew that he should check up on, say hi to. (Kitt was still upstairs, probably a small mercy. They tended to wrap up in each other anymore.)

Not that he'd be adverse to meeting someone new. A little leery, maybe, but not adverse.

flybywash

The door slides open, and Wash walks into the bar.

Yes. That's the right verb.

Walks.

Because the crutches that've become a permanent fixture -- and by all rights should have stayed a permanent fixture -- are finally, finally gone, replaced by a slim black cane with silver scrolling along its length. (It also has a pterodactyl handrest, because if there's one thing Mal does best, it's think up amazing get-well-soon presents.)

He hops onto a barstool, grinning rather ridiculously, and orders a beer. You have to be subversive if you want to find alcohol in an abbey.

pirate_jack

The front door slams open, letting in the smell of the sea and the sound of whistling-- it's a familiar song by now to anyone who knows this man, very likely.

Captain Jack Sparrow strolls through, heading for the bar.

And if occasionally he rubs at the palm of one hand, as though to deal with a tense muscle or a deep-down itch -- well, there's no visible mark there, and he seems mostly able to ignore it easily enough.

[OOC: Due to network problems + the late hour, I must plead slowtime for Jack!threads. All tags will be answered tomorrow night. Thanks!]

the_seafarer

As much as Caspian likes being out in the stables, there's a limit to how long you can spend working on your boat or grooming the horses or repairing tack before it becomes truly mind-numbing.

Besides, he needs some supper.

He seats himself at Bar, after brushing the hay from his shirt.

He may be ordering tea.

qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com

Darien stalks away from the couch where Kevin sits, confused, and heads for the bar.

He needs a fricking drink.

learningtosee.livejournal.com

Stella's vision is finally a perfect 20/20. She couldn't resist going down to the bar to celebrate. Lightly. She's still not quite used to it, and her eyes occasionally ache and so does her head, but not at the moment. She's up at the bar drinking tea. She'd love to talk.

gone_byebye

Exercise today was good, if solitary. Ray came back in from running, went upstairs, and got his sleeping out of the way for a while. He's in the main Bar now, having acquired dinner, a glass of the green stuff, and a place to sit. Currently, he's eating while reading an enormous black book, bound in dragon skin (or so he's told), with a chain protruding from the book. The chain is wrapped around his wrist at the other end. He seems okay with this.

Bother him? The book won't bite.

gentleprince.livejournal.com

Misty-eyed prince at a round corner table.

Composing poetry.

And since you cannot POSSIBLY be doing it properly if you haven't any ink on you, he does: a streak of mahogany across his forehead where he brushed his hair out of his face, a smaller smattering on his right cheek following the path, and a good deal on his fingers.

He spends rather a lot of time staring into space, and rather less time scribbling intensely, and if you were to come peer over his shoulder, you'd see something ( like this. )

the_antiangst

(Upstairs: Following their somewhat WTF-worthy conversation inna bar, Angel... borrows Mark's spare camera. Someone ought to catch the crazy on tape, after all. Quin-approved.)

never-mourned.livejournal.com

Elphaba's actually out for a second night in a row.

This is unusual in and of itself.

What's more unusual is the fact that she's glaring at Bar rather like she'd enjoy setting her on fire.

It might have something to do with the book she was presented with.

Which she's (grudgingly) reading for lack of anything better to do.

And snorting quite often at what she reads.

stilljustandrew

Fade Back In: Andrew and Jonathan immediately upon their return to LA.

Face The Music: Andrew and Jonathan go before the Council.

Yeah, That Went Well: Andrew talks to Meg, a few days later.

yankeedoodle_dr

Someone stumbles through the door, mildly inebriated after a couple hours of drinking in the officer's club.

Not that the guy's not always mildly inebriated.

It has to be said that what he was expecting to see wasn't another bar. He blinks at it, then catches the door before it closes and peers out, just to check he didn't turn round on himself on the way back to the Swamp.

Nope. "Huh." He lets the door close behind him and looks around this second bar. "Trapper? Did the still mutate while I was away? Or is this a hallucination brought on by too much alcohol? Cause I approve if it is. Good brain. Sorry, kidneys, brain overrules you on this one," he tells his abdomen, and sits himself down at the Bar.

Someone tell Hawkeye Pierce he isn't in Korea anymore.

[ooc: New mun, so! Hawkeye doesn't remember Milliways. Maybe he's from a different point in his timeline -- whatever, handwave. It hasn't happened. That's all, with love. :D!
ETA: sorry about slowness guys. mun at varying levels of deadness. but still here for now. :)]

stilljustandrew

*The front door opens, and in step Andrew and Jonathan.*

*If they both look tired, it's for a very good reason. The intercontinental travel alone, over the last few weeks, has been enough. But they've done what they went home to do.*

*All hail the frelling conquering heroes.*

kitchen_maid

Amy is in the bar, with ~~a proper entry post for the first time in days~~ tea and scones. She's trying to untangle the mess of thread that used to be her neatly organized sewing box.

Simon Perryvall, who came downstairs with her this evening, is not helping with that project very much. Of course, if he hadn't gotten into the workbox in the first place, it would still be neatly organized.

He is helping eat the scones, but he's a very small squirrel, and she's got rather a lot of scones.

Come talk to her? She'd welcome the excuse for a break, and will probably offer you a scone.

master-cat.livejournal.com

Having established something of a routine by this point, Perrault enters Milliways and takes a seat at Bar, ordering a cup of tea and a roast game hen. For now, he is making his best effort to draw little attention to himself and keep a careful observation of the other patrons.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

[QSM: A note posted in the Security Office.]

burning-evil.livejournal.com

A day after this...

There's a young man curled in a chair by the observation window. He's barefoot and bare chested, wearing only a tattered pair of jeans. He even appears to be shivering a little bit and certainly looks cold.

He's good at appearances. And the other body really needed time to put itself back together again.

Still, he certainly looks like someone should buy him a warm drink.

[OOC: Please read this before tagging, especially if your pup is human or can tell what he really is. Thanks! Also - the OOM is abstract, but still contains violence, bloodplay and smut. Don't read it if the implication of any of that bothers you.]

river_meimei

It's been several days since River was in the bar. Marriages in your family and your pseudo-family, and visits to exciting new places, are kind of distracting.

Right now, though, she's ensconced under a table in a corner of the room.

She's running one finger across the floor in whorls and zig-zags as if writing or sketching on it, but the movement is absent-minded. She's watching a different section of the floor entirely, head resting against one upraised knee.