milliways_bar | Jan. 11th, 2006

Jan. 11th, 2006

qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com

The door from the lake slams open...to absolutely nothing.

A flurry of silver, however, reveals one Darien Fawkes standing in the doorway. He closes the door behind him, calmly enough, before sauntering in with an easy swagger made all the more bizarre by the red eyes he's sporting.

"Say hello to my little friend..."

...the accent only makes it freakier.

namo

Yes, it is late.

But the Vala has had a long evening.

So now he is seated on a sofa near the fire, legs crossed and his chin resting on his fingers.

You guessed it. He's brooding.

[OOC: Sexual teasing and references below -- beware!]

timsbooks.livejournal.com

The count of supraheros (supernatural superhero) in the bar has raised by one. Oh, yes, he's bee sleeping in the rafters this entire time, thanks to the lovely time hopping that Milliways does.

So it should come as no surprise that the man in the mask drps easily to the floor, landing light as a cat on the balls of his feet. After a beginning life in the circus as a trapse artist, anyone could be as graceful as the only surviving member of the Flying Hunters.

Oh, it gets worse. Come talk to him for a bit, you'll see what I mean.

gonna_live

[This afternoon at Southdown Abbey, Mal and Kaylee decide to take a break from Shepherds and awkwardness and go back to Serenity for a while.]

iustus_rex

An owl flies in from the House of Arch, with a note for Nick de Brabant.

( The note. )

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda is sitting on the couch watching the Universe end. There is a book laying on her lap as she sips her tea. The distant look on her face suggest that her mind is further away then the stars in the distance. As for her mood the only way to relly find out is to come over and talk to her. Or be an empath and well there isn't anything I can do about that.

ultimatetourist.livejournal.com

Beowulf Schaeffer is laying down in a booth, playing around with a hologram projector. On the table are the remains of breakfast, and some odd fizzing drink.

He's also moving his mouth silently as the holograms change overhead. Sometimes a Kemplerer Rosette can be seen. Sometimes an odd Outsider ship. Sometimes an asteroid crumbling in a flash of violet light. Other odd images too.

Go ahead, ask him what he's doing.

milliways_sawyer

Sawyer's sitting in his booth with a cup of coffee and a briefcase.

Yep, he's wearing a suit. He almost looks respectable. He must be up to something.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a Carl in the bar. Or maybe he's just never left.

Suffice to say you might notice there's something different about this particular filmmaker. For instance, He's Whistling a rather jaunty tune

The time has come
To be a lover from the Argentine
To slick my hair down with Brilliantine
And gargle heavily with Listerine
Wow!
It's time for Max
To put his backers on their backs
And thrill them with amazing acts
Those aging nymphomaniacs...

Secondly, scanning through broadway magazines like they're the holy grail. Picking some up and throwin' them down.

Pardon him if he hits you we beg, he's not himself as of lately.

[Carl with Rocks in him. Ping if you're in the mood to catch it, but if not just come and marvel at the crazed little fat man]

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah was in the bar once more, she wasn't wearing the wings she'd had on the day before, but she was wearing the tiara, at a jaunty angle.

The observant patrons might notice that there were other colors and shapes of paper tiara bases stacked up to one side, and tubes of glitter glue and sequins and other random bits of sparkly stuff.

Others might notice the sign first, it went a little something like:
Make your own Fairy Princess (or Prince) Crown
Today only!
Free!

She was, it seemed, intending to spread the joy of fairy princessdom, go on, you know you want to.

(mun at work, tags may be patchy, may be randomly slowtimed, don't know, rainy, few small projects, so, uh, she'll be here all day!)

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin is sitting curled up on a couch, somewhere with a clear view of the door.

He and Charlie were on the absinthe last night, after putting an unconscious Darien through the front door, so he's feeling a bit sorry for himself.

red-mare.livejournal.com

Jah-lila is not Bound, as she had been before, but she has opted to stay here a while. The place is prone to giving her interesting dreams. And besides, the tiny pard- her people have no concept of the domestic cat- is fond of the place.

So there is a red unicorn mare out by the lake, making a game attempt at pounce-play and batting ~~paws~~ ~~hooves~~ forelimbs with the little brown cat who follows her more often than not.

lvpd_sidle

This is Sara.

She's reading a book.

Read, Sara, read.

This is her trying to be cheerful and failing miserably.

Fail, Sara, fail.

door-2-door.livejournal.com

The Salesman has, again, claimed a table in the bar. They provide a better view than booths, you see. So there he sits, with coffee and a newspaper. The latter of which, he's pretending to read. Generally he'd be rather convincing about it, but today he seems easily distracted. By people, mostly.
You know the drill by now, and if you don't know the man yet, you ought to correct that.

[Ooc:Still around; til prolly midnight EST]

jedipilot.livejournal.com

Zekk sticks his tongue out at Jaina as he reaches across the table to grab the pile of M&Ms sitting in the bowl. She glares at him as she collects their cards (the astral new ones Wes gave her for Christmas) to shuffle and deal again.

So much for lightsaber practice this morning. Seems like an early round of sabacc during a breakfast of caf and waffles (not to mention those M&Ms that keep disappearing from the sabacc bowl) was the favored idea.

Arguing quietly with each other, Jaina begins to deal out the next round. Anyone care to join?

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Come see the short man in the back booth playing fortune teller with a die. Just the one, six sided. Tossed once, twice, considered. Once, twice, considered again. The pattern one-two seems to be a theme in where they land, too.

He's bored. Happily so, because he's hearing pretty things in the numbers, but still, bored. Do pay a visit.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

This is not the Jack you are looking for. Move along.

Unless you were looking for Jack Driscoll. Then you would find him by the fire reading a book with a cup of hot chocolate. Bother at will.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda walks up to the Bar and places a ( Note for Dave )

The bar absorbs it and then she walks back into the infirmary.

the_lioness

[OOM: Adam and Alanna, millitimed to last night.]

bloodyrockgod

This is not the worst Charlie's ever been hungover. It's not even in the top ten.

No, it's not the hangover that's caused him to be at the piano, playing a half-hearted warmup and then, forlornly:

Ev'ry time we say goodbye
I die a little,
ev'ry time we say goodbye
I wonder why a little,
why the gods above me
who must be in the know
think so little of me
they allow you to go.
When you're near
there's such an air
of spring about it,
I can hear a lark somewhere
begin to sing about it,
there's no love song finer,
but how strange the change
from major to minor...
ev'ry time we say goodbye.
Ev'ry single time
we say goodbye.

It's not the hangover at all.

sidhe-essus.livejournal.com

Essus is playing human today. He's sitting by the fire, sipping from a cup of tea and leafing through an old book with the air of someone who's not so much interested in what he's reading as unable to think of anything else to do at the moment.

Feel free to bother, he doesn't usually bite.

goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com

Clive was still in the same place he'd been since meeting Buddy.

There were two notebooks beside him now, both full, and he was working on a third one. He was also eating, nibbling chickenstrips almost idly with one hand while he continued to scribble half-frantically with the other. He' had to get something to eat when his hand became so shaky that the writing was illegible even to himself.

Most of the lyrics he'd pinned down weren't so good, at least, not just sitting there on the page, he had to write a few more, then find someone who could make them heard

(he's got Music Pox and he's got them bad. I'm at ~~lunch~~ work and therefore unpingable, but yeah, should be easy enough to let me know if you wanna catch it. Otherwise, just worry at him. Or ignore him, he's used to that too. And lunchtime is over now, so patchy tags and slowtime are the watchword of the day.)

sto-helit.livejournal.com

Granddaughter of Death, not quite so ill at ease, with a drink in hand. Insert creative, original, funny entrance post here and come bother.

gone_byebye

Ray slept last night, but it doesn't appear to have paid off, at least in the conventional sense. Today he's in the main Bar in a Ghostbusters company shirt, cargo pants, and Cthulhu slippers. He's got an eye-swimmingly complicated set of three dimensional schematics hovering in the air at his table. Gotta love those UFP holocomputers, even when they're being used to produce circa-2006 stick-and-ball CAD diagrams, eh?

venusadept_2

Felix is disgruntled. No longer in a Mood, just unhappy about being here when he should be there.

So he's sitting in one of those dark cornery things, rubbing the Mars Star. It's slightly out of sight to disguise the glow.

Obviously, he doesn't want to be disturbed. Just as obviously, I want you to disturb him. Who will you please?

[OOC: patchy today, as there are TV shows I want to watch, so I'll be shuttling between dorm and computer lab.]

jed-leland.livejournal.com

Jed is at a table with a newspaper and coffee. He looks cheerful, as always.

Also, his mun is insane. Have at.

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

Witness:

A young man, perched warily on a barstool.

Witness:

A small cellophane wrapped pack of raisins. Being finished.

Witness:

The saddest of sighs. He liked raisins.

The above? A series of tableaux: of all that is sad and tragic in life.

Now, feel free to come tell Jack he's being ridiculous again.

[ooc: or squee along with the mun at the new iconspace, much love to the lj fairy.]

eternal-boy.livejournal.com

Nick wanders down, a little sleepy for all that he's had plenty of sleep. He's off his usual cycle, but he'd noticed a lack of something in his bed and decided that this warranted investigation. The note explains all when he gets it, though, so he simply settles down for a cup of dinner at the bar counter and hopes to see a friend.

elrond-healer.livejournal.com

Elrond wanders downstairs, his eyes alight with humor and joy and his face lit with contentment. He moves with a spring in his step that enhances his usual grace even further. His clothes are immaculate as he heads for the bar, one old tome carefully placed on the top. He smiles and settles on a stool there.

"Lady Bar, a glass of Tindalen, please?"

The glass of reddish liquor appears and he sips it then nods.

"My thanks."

Then with a glance around the bar, his eyes still gleaming with happiness, he begins to read.

csi-catherine.livejournal.com

After this, Catherine stops by the bar with a note for

( Dr. Hank McCoy )

"Thanks, Bar," she says, patting the surface lightly as she drops the note; it vanishes, and she bites a fingernail as she heads off towards her room. There's a lot of work to be done now, and soon.

guppy_sandhu

There once was a young doc called Guppy,
Who had fluffy black hair like a puppy,
He sits in a booth
With a teapot for two
And hot water if you should want coffee.

This entrance post may be modified should anyone come up with a better last line. Ahem, whatever, Guppy in a booth, have at.

[ooc: Mun has just noticed how much pharmocology she has left to learn before friday and fleeeeeeees. Back later]

cywyllog

Cywyllog had the boys outside earlier this afternoon, where much fun in the snow was had. If you listened closely, you may have heard the giggles and the almost incessant "Mama, look!"

Currently, though, all three are back inside and curled up by the fire, Cywyllog in the middle with a boy on each side. Tea and warm milk was in order.

Company is welcome.

ff-ambassador.livejournal.com

Inara wanders into the bar, possibly looking for someone in particular, but mostly just enjoying being here. She walks up to the bar and seats herself on a stool.

"Can I have a pot of tea please, Bar?" A delicate pot and a cup appears before her.

namo

At some point between late, late last night and late this afternoon, Gorlim had left his side.

But the Vala had not left the sofa or the fire.

He has ordered another cup of the tea Asar-Suti had kindly left him, but he still broods.

Now he has even more to brood about.

Care to bother him?

medicine-bird.livejournal.com

The thing with world-saving do-gooders is that they don't generally take well to sitting still. Jean, although she'd argue with the label, is no exception. As a result, she's settled into a booth with her broken leg propped up, having gotten her hands on a laptop computer and a simple joystick somehow. Through further magic of Milliways she's also gotten an old copy of Star Wars: X-Wing vs. TIE-Fighter to run on it.

Definitely not the Blackbird, but it'll do for passing time.

She seems to be having a little trouble with the Vengeance scenario, and a mutter of "Damn Super Star Destroyers..." can be heard now and again. But it beats just sitting.

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

[oom: John Preston Vs. The Mechanical Hound. or at least a distant cousin of Bradbury's famous monster. Appearing for Plot-type purposes, John Preston does battle with a Librian hound and wins...barely.]

There's a man and a dog in the bar.

Or at least you might think it's a man and dog since both look like they've been through hell. Preston's black cleric coat is far blacker, torn in places across his back. And the dog Isn't much of a dog either..

Making sure to disconnect the creature's head from it's body, he slings the still-kicking form of the mechanical dog down onto a table and flips a switch under it's belly, the kicking legs retracting and the razor sharp red paws (were they always red?) disappearing into the thing's feet.

He then leans back, wincing as his back meets the furniture, fighting an oncoming wave of...sleepiness.

[No worries on Preston's medical condition-although doctors are definately welcome. As far as injuries his back's just been clawed to hell and the dog's given him a strong injection of morphine. He heals really fast however, and will probably be out of bar by nightfall with a bounty out on his partner.]

firewitandhate.livejournal.com

Loki Skywalker seems to have gathered most of the rhythm of the bar. After last night, he's just sitting in a booth, looking around. He's apparently in the running for the Milliways people-watching championship.

hopeitsworthit

Sammy was right, Dean really needed to get out. He is especially glad he decided to get out when he nails another one of the bunnies with his Winchester shotgun. What can he say, it's a guy thing.

Current Mood: relaxed

princessjosiane.livejournal.com

Princess at the bar.

With a drink.

Swinging her legs.

Dead princesses are allowed to be in good moods, too.

jediwarriorgirl.livejournal.com

Tenel Ka comes into the bar from the forest, having just completed a twenty-kilometer run around the frosty lake. At least, she thought it was about twenty kilometers; she might have guessed a little bit off. Either way, it felt good to be able to go out and push her body through the run without having to worry so much about who was watching and whether or not it put forward a proper image.

She was getting very tired of that.

She now sits contentedly on a hard barstool and drinks a glass of water, with a little sliver of citrus fruit on the side.

saionjisenpai.livejournal.com

He's not sure if he should be, but Saionji's back at Milliways. It beats staring at Wakaba's ceiling all day, anyway, and the food's cheap.

He went outside the first time he was here (oh yes) and now the green-haired teen is out back again, shivering a little in the cold. The denim jacket doesn't quite cut it; it's never this cold in Houou. He tried the greenhouse first, but the roses there are all red.

He's standing in Anthy's rose garden, now, fingering a green rose and thinking about plucking it. He wouldn't be able to take it with him, though.

futures_of_ash

[Coming from Here]

Such great events as returning to a place you love should take place with a great deal of memorable fanfare. There should be lightening and thunder, great rolling grumbles of welcome...

But there isn't. There's hardly a ripple at all, just a girl suddenly standing about two feet from the lake shore, water rippling just below her feet. Her dress has seen better days, far better, the time streams having ripped and battered the great skirt into nothing but crimson tatters. She lost her slippers somewhere, and her carefully coiffed hair hangs in waves about her face now.

Passage through the time streams is never kind, and to one in her condition, it is perhaps begging for death to attempt it. Perhaps that is why blood drips ever so slowly into the water below, each drop precious and unnoticed behind the greater, numbing hurts. She doesn't cry out as she wavers, losing strength and concentration, slamming to her knees and then into the water below. No, she doesn't cry out.

But the lance of sheer, overwhelming pain as her body moves to gravity's will and not her own? That single mental scream that sounds so familiar and twisting? That she cannot stop so easily. She cannot stop that, nor the second, pained whimper as she slowly lifts her body once more, forcing it to move as it should through sheer will and no other force.

It seems Rachel has come home, forgive her for the tears.

[Plot locked to Arithon and Alanna]

ucav-tinman.livejournal.com

Eddie walked in from what looked to be a booming nightclub, full of dancing bodies. The music was loud and thumping, and Eddie was sans-shirt and smiling. He was wearing his arctic-print BDU pants, though, and looked to have an interesting lip-print in the vicinity of his shoulder.

The AI was rather pleased.

empath-wiggin.livejournal.com

Val's in the bar, at a table, with papers strewn around her in about four character sets and only Force knows how many languages. Three universes, even. Feel free to boggle. She might even give you a language lesson.

[ooc: Mun having emotional problems again. Please do tag, but know slowtime might be possible in event of total breakdown.]

symbiote-venom.livejournal.com

Eddie Brock walks down the stairs and makes his way over to the bar, taking a seat and glancing around before ordering a drink and a special bite to eat for the symbiote. A bar of chocolate and a beer appear before him, and he nods his thanks to Bar, too busy munching on the chocolate to say anything. Once the candy has been consumed, he sips his drink and looks around for any familiar faces. He's been brooding in his room for several days, trying to understand what's been happening to him. No luck yet.

95-tan.livejournal.com

So... mitsu-me no yoru ni
So... On the third night,
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's time once again for that singing and dancing sensation, Windows 95!
WARUTSU no ko wa yonamo ni UE-BU wo utsu
The children of the waltz cause ripples on the face of the world

Her cute outfit and strange lyrics are sure to charm your heart! Or just puzzle you!

( She is doing a routine of saccharine cuteness now, as a matter of fact! )

You know you want a closer look at Milliways's new idol singer!

[OOP: Plot With Rocks In, so if you need infection, here it is. If you don't, well, cute girl performing!]

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: "Peony Pink," CLAMP School Detectives

narnianknight.livejournal.com

Rilian is downstairs, dressed in black ~~and looking rather a lot like Hamlet, according to Jill~~ - residue from his days as the Knight, perhaps - and curled up in a booth, sipping tea and writing on a roll of parchment, occasionally stopping to tilt his head and reread what he's written.

unseelie-girl.livejournal.com

The door opens. There's only one dog with her at the moment, leading the way in with its flat, black eyes, its nose sniffing the revenants and the spectres and the humans and everything else and in-between.

It's not the NeverNever, that's for sure. But it's also not Chicago, which is where she should be. But even the Fae get things wrong from time to time, and she steps into the bar, a vision in a green gown with red hair that falls in rings past her waist, golden eyes like cats', and a look of curiosity on her ageless face.

If she was at all versed in pop culture, there'd be a quip about Kansas right.... here.

The Leaninsidhe has come to Milliways.

[OOC: Mun would like to note that while technically Lea's from after the events of Dead Beat the mun hasn't actually had the pleasure of reading it yet. Because hardback's expensive to import, you know? So - forgive me any ignorances :P Also, I'll probably be heading for a nap sometime soon, but I'll warn ye' when that happens.]

ancient-servant.livejournal.com

The door opened, and an ancient Egyptian walked in.

And ancient Egyptian vampire.

"Oh, it's this place again," He said, looking around with a shrug. He hadn't been here since his portal drowned in New Orleans, and Bianca had taken him to Sydney instead.

Khayman looked around, found a chair in a dark corner, and sat down with a sigh.

[[OOC: No worries, same mun as before - he just hasn't been in for so long that many people here have probably never met him.]]

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

The front door bursts open, and Eddie and Susannah Dean enter, beaming. Through the door, briefly, New York City is visible. Eddie disappears into the Staff Wing with an enormous amount of luggage, while Susannah hovers over to the bar and gets herself a cup of coffee.

She also removes a leather thong from her wrist and gives it to the Bar, with instructions to give it to Crowley.

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

It's been days now, or so he thinks.

Perhaps it's only been hours. Hard to tell here, since he'd stopped wearing a watch back in Boulder and ther was no clcok in the room, but his stomach was rumbling and that meant it was time to eat, at least, if nothing else.

So Nick comes carefully down the stairs, a little thin and tired-looking, and heads over to the Bar.

He goes along the walls, where there are less people. Odd to see this sort of group when your mind is used to the desolation on plague.

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

Eddie returns from the Staff Wing, still wearing his heavy coat, which he sloughs off behind the Bar before he begins to chalk up the specials.

Happy Hour Specials

Brooklyn Zoo
Bronx Cocktail
Manhattan
Queen Charlotte
Jealous Queen
Tipsy Island

I'm back, baby!

Under the coat he's wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt with the Statue of Liberty on it.

inquisitivehero

The Door swings wide on a barren landscape, where a rapidly disappearing mansion and grounds stand. Beyond the door, explosions march towards the Door across a landscape bucking with the force of unleashed energy and a timestream that is closing in on the gap.

A huddled group stares at the door for one moment and then with a leap, Hank McCoy is through, carrying Goldilocks in his arms. He is battered and looks tired, with a haunted look in his eyes.

He lands and looks back immediately, his eyes urgent and body tense as he awaits his friends' arrivals.

galefromkansas.livejournal.com

[OOC: From here.]

A young girl, barely into her teens, peeks her head into the Bar from the Staff Wing. Her hair is in two pigtails with blue bows, and there's a band-aid on her forehead.

Dorothy has been asleep for she doesn't know how long, but she does know she's hungry. Still, there are so many people out here...

Toto solves the problem for her by slipping between her feet and squeezing out the door; she chases him into the main bar. "Toto! Come back here!"

perfectblue.livejournal.com

Illyria's in the bar, with shiny new icon, and because her mun is once again forcing her to be so.

This is all you get, because the mun feels like crap and the goddess is rather indifferent.

This is not to say that she shouldn't be tagged: she's always rather indifferent, unless you're something interesting. It won't stop her from her usual line of tactless questioning.

So uh, have at?

bloodyrockgod

It can't be helped.

That's all there is to it. It can't be helped.

No amount of talking, playing or singing has done a thing. Getting drunk didn't make him feel better and he has little hope in yoga being cheering.

This is too much even for tea.

So Charlie changes his clothes for the ragged t-shirt and jeans he wore the last time he walked through the door, and comes downstairs, his backpack over his shoulder. There's a note for Darien in their room--as for everyone else, well.

He'll be back. That's all.

[ooc: back after new canon. whee!]

iwasalevel6.livejournal.com

Now you see Tony and Michelle.

Now you don't.

Before they walked out the door to their home in Los Angeles, they left a few notes for their friends:

( Read more... )

There's also a letter for Bernard:

( Read more... )

theprettiestone.livejournal.com

Alex is in the stables, grooming Ghost and talking softly to him.

What? Horses like being talked to. Sometimes.

Ghost seems rather more interested in Alex's pockets. There may be carrots there, after all.

queens-darkness.livejournal.com

There is a shadowed cat lounging on a couch by the fire. He's slightly bigger than your average house cat but not by much. He's people watching, though he looks more like he's being lazy than anything else. Don't let appearances deceive you.

Come find out where the kitty came from. He won't bite.

xan-shaped.livejournal.com

Xander is in the bar.

On a couch, to be precise, in a checkered shirt and jeans. He's got a mug of cocoa in one hand and a three-ring notebook in the other, upon which many words are scribbled, crossed out, and re-scribbled.

He is making a frowny face of concentration.

[OOC: All are welcome, but ping before tagging, yo. Merky Dee's the name, Milliways is the game.

... Shut up, I know you know.]

saint-aequitas.livejournal.com

Let's see.

Pepsi, paradoxes, and - as he's finally stopped coughing up his lungs - cigarettes.

The mun's shaking her head disapprovingly, but Murphy's going to do what he wants regardless.

So for the moment-

MacManus in a booth; smoking, eating, and possibly people watching.

eternal-boy.livejournal.com

"...as his heart begins to beat for the first time in centuries."

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda is in the bar late tonight. Sipping her strawberry smoothie she is over by the observation window. Not on a couch or chair but on the floor. Reviewing alot of papers. She doesn't seem to be aware of the time.

Come poke as you desire.

captain-emerald.livejournal.com

Rimmer appears downstairs at the same time as Kris Kochanski opens the door and walks in from Red Dwarf, which unlike the boys from the Dwarf they never lost the five mile long, big red mining ship. This isn't good. They just stare at each other.

Feel free to tag Kris , Rimmer or both of them. ~~The mun is trying not to break a uninetwork computer and at the moment failing.~~

undergnd-leader.livejournal.com

There's a Jurgen in the bar because his Mun hates slowtime and because nighttime works for librians in particular.

He's got a rather thick leatherbound book in which he's reading-rather deeply.
then, setting the book down he sighs and studies the bar almost wistfully.

x5-599.livejournal.com

Zack is sitting at a well-lit table, people watching. He's trying to make it seem as though he isn't watching for anyone in particular, though this doesn't appear to be working so well. He's a little too edgy for his surveilance to be casual.

wizard_howell

With a resounding laugh echoing, the door flies open and a twenty-something man with dark hair and green eyes stands just inside, hands on his hips. He mutters something beneath his breath about rugby and cwrw Cymru before he actually seems to realise where he is.

"Dear, dear. What will my sweet supportive and loving sister think of me leaving in a flash like that?"

The question is purely rhetorical: he knows exactly what his sister thinks of him, and some of the things she's called him are not fit for polite conversation.

"And my niece and nephew... well, next time then." He gives another satisfied little laugh before positively draping himself over the bar. His leather jacket says Welsh Rugby on the back, and he's humming what sounds like a song beneath his breath.

And it's not particularly in tune, either.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

Carl's still here.

What, did you think he could have left?

Dressed in a tux and tails (lord knows where he's gotten them from) Carl's got a BIG sign.

SINGERS WANTED.

INGENUES, DIVAS, BEGINNERS WELCOME.

MUST BE WILLING TO SING, ABLE TO TAKE DIRECTION.

NOW HOLDING AUDITIONS. FOR AS-OF-YET UNTITLED BROADWAY MUSICAL.

My showgirls had the biggest tits!
I never was the pits in any way!
WORKMAN, BUM, BAG LADY:
We believe you, thousands wouldn't
We believe you, ev'ry word
We believe you, thousands couldn't
We believe each word we've heard
MAX:
I used to be the king...
WORKMAN, BUM, BAG LADY:
The King?
MAX:
The king of old Broadway...
BLIND VIOLINIST:
It's good to be the king!

[Carl with Rocks in him. Tag if you want to be infected and or/ be in Carl and Marks as of yet untitled musical. (ask mark what it's about. Carl only loves the music and the actor side of it) if not, just come and ask him why he's being such a weirdo]

un_fallen

Raguel is feeling restless.

He can't quite put a finger on it, but ever since the new year dawned, bright with blood and fireworks, he's felt like he's missing something. Maybe something important - and in his profession, missing something is as good as inviting failure. So he's in the bar on a weeknight, thinking on voices and feathers and half-remembered dreams that are probably best forgotten.

He'll have to get back to work soon. But everybody needs a break to think.

Current Mood: pensive

thatseemright2u.livejournal.com

Jubal Early's improving his mind.

The small flickering screen occupies a good part of his attention, but he's got enough left over to watch the door, out of habit, and to spoon up his boiled white rice and dog-flavored protein chunks. Just like his mother made. She knew.

It's news; months' worth. Chunks of information whittled down. More time's passed than he thought. It's a slippery thing.

agreathunter.livejournal.com

Because there is new "Lost," there is a Locke, seated at the bar with hamburger and French fries. He's in a rather good mood.

shall-go-free.livejournal.com

Xas enters the bar, steps measured and silent.

He fetches a glass of wine from Bar and settles in a booth, back pressed to the wall and feet tucked up comfortably.

There is a book on his lap, and he appears engrossed in reading.

Disturb him if you like, he is not unfond of conversation.

gonna_live

Kaylee is sitting at the bar with a cookbook and a beer.

Because there's a nice kitchen at her disposal at Southdown Abbey, and no doubt the Shepherds wouldn't mind if she did a little bit of cooking practice. Especially if they got to eat the results.

And if she's a little bit distracted by the whole getting-married-in-a-few-days thing...suppose that's forgivable.

miss-eyre.livejournal.com

Jane Eyre inna bar. Accompanied by her embroidery, as she is afraid she is getting quite horribly out of practice. She is also accompanied by her tea, unsurprisingly.

guppy_sandhu

Because the mun is slowly going insane and is becoming an antagonist to work...
Guppy is at the bar, eating dinner and drinking pink lemonade with an umbrella and a cherry in.

Snowball is sitting near the fire wearing his new card crown with sparkly things on that he made with Sarah.
He sneezes occasionally. Nostrils like that aren't good with sequins.

balletrat

*Meg is sitting at the bar, fidgeting with the empty coffee cup in front of her.

There will come a moment when she'll get up to get more. But that is not this moment.*

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

Jason is curled in a booth with his iPod and a book. Either the music is that soft or he's one of those people who can do two things at once. There is a full pot of coffee in front of him. Care to mooch?

qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com

After dodging his Keeper, Darien leaves the Keep...

...and finds that the door is one back to Milliways. He closes his eyes, looks out into the bar, and thinks about whether he wants to go back in. He's not sure if he can go anywhere else even if he wants to and a part of him rails at that, but the rest of him just reminds him he's being a coward.

He has to go back. For Kevin. For Charlie.

God, Charlie. You know, a pretty bright man, think you've heard of him, name of Einstein? He once said that "anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new.”

Yeah, this from a guy who looked like he mistook a weedwacker for a hair clipper.

That being said, the old guy did have a point. I'd made a mistake, forgotten about my shot because of my brother coming back. The most important thing now, though, was to get my ass in there and fix it.

And thus, Darien Fawkes enters the bar in search of many things, but above all...the chance to make up for his mistakes.

i_grenfelz

Sneeeeeak.

Carmela has no wish to be caught by her mother sneaking into a bar on a school night. She closes the door carefully behind her and breathes a sight of relief.

Then she spots this, and squees something that probably includes the words "Kawaii!" before bouncing over thataway.

sendpeanutbtr.livejournal.com

You can always tell when the Lost muns get new canon, can't you?

Thus, Claire by the fire. Playing with Seth.

It's like. . .magic or something.

[[ooc: zzzz. Slowtime?]]

howling_laugh

Coyote strides into the bar, pausing to blink for a moment. She's dressed more for a high-end club than for bar crawling, but this works too. She slides onto a stool and tosses her coat onto the one next to her.

Collecting a colorful mixed drink, she kicks off a pair of sparkly stilettos and examines the crowd.

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

There's a young, dark haired woman stalking towards the bar. There are a few differences from her normal appearance: the leather jacket she's almost never without is missing, there are knives strapped to her forearms, and there is a pair of child-sized handcuffs dangling limply from one hand. She is also bleeding anger and tension so thick that it's almost palpable.

These things might have something to do with the explosive return of a particular rescue party.

She aquires a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the bar, turns sharply, and heads for a semi-dark booth. This is not a good thing.

the_antiangst

Angel inna bar, to say nothing of the skirt, or the camera.
...Wait a minute, camera? Isn't that usually that other Rent contingent guy's thing?
And yet, Angel's definitely got a camera. Pretty shiny little thing, too. A certain Slayer might recognize it.
He's also got pizza (pineapple-bacon-extra-cheese fun!) and his notebook. And lots of napkins, since there's no use getting grease on either the notebook or the camera. As to where in the bar: the usual, one of the couches by the fireplace.
Have at, and mind the fuzzy gender line if you don't already know better.

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

Jason retreats to his room and gets some unexpected comfort from Svava. Millitimed to last Wednesday.

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

It is January and cold and snowy still in Scotland, so when Archie comes in from out back, he must first make a small detour back to his and Svava's flat to drop off his great-coat before he comes out tto he bar proper for his customary tea.

Come talk to him, he's friendly.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

[OOM: Culture Clash and a Priest In the Cells]

gone_byebye

It's been an interesting day and it really only gets more interesting. Ray comes down from upstairs, settles down at one of the tables, and falls to writing out a note on his holocomputer. This is saved, then closed.

From here, he's got a very good view of the observation window, and a lot of things to think about as he watches.

notsoyoung.livejournal.com

So there's a thing going on again.

David.

Booth.

Blood.

No newspaper. This time, there's a pad of lined paper in front of him, and he's only just begun to start the next chapter of Richard's story.

Come interrupt!