milliways_bar | Jan. 22nd, 2006

Jan. 22nd, 2006

foxy-l33t.livejournal.com

Everyone's fave sense offender stops by the Bar quick, to leave behind a package. Brown paper wrapping, tied up with string, and labled For Errol Partridge

With a grin, Laini bounces off again.

obligatoryass

Logan knows that Trina's got no shame. In fact, it's one of the traits they share. That and a certain narcissm about sum up what they have in common.

But he didn't think she'd sink to this.

He picks up a copy of this month's Playboy and groans.

Collecting them all and burning them would probably be taking things a little too far, wouldn't it?

((ETAOOC:Off to bed. Slowtime?))

simple-secret.livejournal.com

So enters a fox.

The large orange featherduster is patroling under tables for fallen scraps. He is paying absolutely no attention to the fact that feet are attatched to humans who do not generally like them to be stepped on. He is also occasionally rubbing against various legs if he likes the smell of their owners.

It might be a little startling. Try not to kick him too hard?

buriedmybrother.livejournal.com

[DOUBLE OOM!!!

Out by the stables, Antigone meets Salzella, who whitetexts disturbingly.

Then, she runs into Saionji, and they go into the stables and have a REALLY AWESOME THREAD.

... I think so, anyway.

Discussed: memories, death, princes, and princesses.]

ardens-guard.livejournal.com

That right there is a Prince of Amber. The more unpopular of the three in the bar but that's OK, he doesn't like you either. So there.

Anyway, Julian of Amber, in a booth, polishing his bow. It's a rather magnificent bow, it has to be said. Whether or not the same can be said for its owner remains to be seen. And you won't find out if you don't talk to him, right?

aj_crawley

Crowley stayed in the guest quarters, last night. And they're comfortable, and all, but the biggest advantage they have is that you're down in the bar from fairly early on, and thus have dibs on the prime real-estate.

Crowley's managed to appropriate an armchair over which to drape himself, closer to the fire than not, and a hefty mug of tea. His attention shifts between watching it, watching the flames, and watching nothing much at all.

The term is, I believe, 'spacing out'.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

Hellspawn is excercising.

What this means is he is hanging from a rafter, pumping his body up and down with one hand, and balancing a cup of tea with the other.

It's a britsh hero thing.

blue-star-badge.livejournal.com

Some days Adric collected dishes to be washed in the afternoons, sometimes in the evenings, and today apparently in the morning.
This was mostly due to the fact that he worked when he saw there was work to be done. As had become usual there was a mostly-clockwork dragon on his shoulder, carrying a basket made of silverware, which was only a little odd, given as it was made of silverware itself, paws made of serving forks which the basket just hooked over.

As always though, the pair was easy to distract, one more than the other, difficult to say which was which though.

(45 minutes afore work, slowtime after that, g'head and tag if that's good by you)

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Random of Amber is in a booth, picking at a banana muffin.

If this booth happens to be directly in eyesight of the door, then so be it.

If not much of the muffin gets eaten, then more of the same.

Do feel free to distract him.

aj_crawley

[Letter to Aziraphael]

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah was in the bar with breakfast, lemon and powdered sugar crepes today, and another book.

She was in her PJs, the ones with the dreamcatchers, and her plush pufferfish slippers, the ones wearing the swim goggles.

The book she had was for the most part being ignored in favor of watching the universe end out the observation window.

Go poke her or something.

( at work, patchy tags probable, but also running slowly out of projects, so, yeah, tag plz )

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

One former Watcher in the bar. It's morning (which is never good for any of the mun's pups), but he's awake so: coffee.

He's writing in a journal at the moment, though he doesn't seem especially wrapped up in whatever he's writing.

Distractions welcome.

liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com

This is not the GIP you are looking for.

But if it were, you might look over to the table near the observation window, where Liz Imbrie is drawing the death of the universe outside with an air of mingled satisfaction and worry about her.

((OOC: Mun is pretending to be academic, and thus tags may be erratic, but will all be answered.))

inquisitivehero

Hank McCoy comes out of the Infirmary, glancing around as he makes his way to the Bar and settles to a stool.

"Lady Bar? a large breakfast please."

When a heaping platter appears, he grins.

"My thanks. Ah, and a larger coffee, please?"

And a very large mug of his own brand of coffee appears and his grin widens a touch.

"Lady Bar, you do indeed take good care of me."

And he digs in with a great deal of relish. He has been working hard for over a week. The engine, as they say, needs more fuel. Even so, he would not turn away interruptions.

magius-unlocked.livejournal.com

[OOM: After a trip into a nightmare realm, Magius awakens, madness one step closer to closing over his mind.]

gorlim.livejournal.com

On his way outside, Gorlim leaves a questionably-spelled, hastily-scrawled

( note for Mary Anne. )

Current Mood: rushed

elrond-healer.livejournal.com

Elrond is settled near the fire, his eyes riveted to a book on the plants of Earth and their medicinal uses. His fascination with plants and the herbs that can be used from them is an ancient one and he still glories in the learning of new ones and new uses. Thus his attention tot he book is complete.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

Jack walks downstairs to the bar to procure breakfast. Instead, he comes face to face with the door.

There's an entire room between him and the door, but the space is irrelevant next to the meaning of the door. He can leave. He can leave at last. Confused thoughts roll through his mind, of how two weeks, compared to others, was not that long an exile from his world, not when he was able to leave for a day; of how he had thought, once, that he didn't mind being trapped here, but how the presence of the door has now brought up feelings of claustrophobia and discontent he had repressed in his eagerness to embrace the bar and (Satine) its people.

Jack stares at the door for a moment longer, then turns, nearly runs up the stairs to his room to gather his hat, coat, papers, and notebook. Back downstairs, dressed in his coat, he walks to the bar and writes

( a letter to Satine. )

He stares at this composition for a moment or two, knowing he feels less hopeful and more (jealous) empty about the Duke than he let on in this letter. He has no time for bitter feelings, though. He moves on. He has to move on.
If it was a fling, a lovely fling it was.
He can't be hung up on her forever.

Now donning his hat, he walks forward to the door, opens it, and steps out into New York City, 1933.

[ ooc: don't worry; he'll be back. soon, even. very soon.

also? i lose at the html. just thought you ought to know. ]

Current Mood: blank

laughing-flower.livejournal.com

"BLOOOOOOOOD 'N' VINNNN...." The roaring, heavily armed, blood-spattered hare screeches to a halt a few feet inside the front door, her expression morphing from 'murderous' to 'baffled'.

"I say, this just isn't on, wot!" She snorts, disgustedly. How is she supposed to hunt slimy stoats if the cave they ducked into turns into the bally bar?

copper-fray.livejournal.com

Erin is settled at the bar, drinking a glass of something that might be juice, and might be something else.

Something with alcohol.

It's hard to tell.

Being Bound makes her itchy, even if time on the other side of the door isn't moving.

Today is one of the days that it's eating at her, badly.

She wouldn't mind a distraction.

tea-and-honor.livejournal.com

<---Fox

In woman-form.

She's actually kind of digging the grey hair. It makes her look distinguished, if a little bit like Laini's Fox form.

So she's seated at a table, indulging in a cup of tea.

There are more cups, if you want to join her.

whitest_witch

The white witch receives a visit from Lucy and Adam, who have been talking. Things are. . . confused.

mogget_cat

*Yrael is sitting at his harpsichord, playing some rather interesting variations on Scarlatti's Cat Fugue.*

*Come listen to the not'cat.*

namo

Námo comes down stairs and approaches Bar.

He has a special request for her.

He gently places a handful of gems and precious metals from Aman on her surface.

"Lady Bar, could you be kind enough to convert these items into appropriate monies for twenty-first century United States and Canada?"

The Vala had spent the night looking up where it was they were going, what timeframe they would arrive in, so he could ask her specifically for what he needed.

The hodge-podge of jewels and metal sinks below the surface, replaced by a single plastic card with a balance tape around it, a small stack of green bills, and a small stack of slips of paper.

Námo thanks her, picking up the items (though he has no idea what he has been given; Lee will have to figure that out) and put them into a pocket of his tunic. Off of one of his hands, though, he pulls two rings from his fingers.

"Please apply the value of these items to my tab as well as Lee Castle's tab." As the debts change on the board, he smiles. "Thank you, Lady Bar."

With that business taken care of, he goes to a booth and sits, ordering some tea and buscuits.

He would not mind company.

[OOC: Currency conversion provided with mod approval.]

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

The Rivan King is rubbing his eyes much like a three year old as he wanders behind the bar. He scrawls up the specials:

sparkling cider, amaretto sour, toasted almond, ale, and hard cider

food

and flumps on a stool. His head is pounding but he puts on a smile and starts rubbing the bar with a rag.

"Anything for you?"

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

(OOM: After visiting Danny, and getting thoroughly shredded psychologically and emotionally, Ray carries a broken Draco to the Infirmary where Nita tries to wake him up. Malcolm stops by to help, and gets his newly arrived mum, Narcissa to see her son.
After a series of bizarre nightmares, Draco slowly wakes up, still in the infirmary. Where he ends up meeting Alessa, and they talk a bit, despite levels of sanity on both sides being an issue at times.)

perfectblue.livejournal.com

Illyria is, wonder of wonders, actually in the bar. In her own entry post!

This is likely because she ran out of ways to amuse herself, and has decided to attempt more of the dreaded conversation thing. It is likely that she will find you tiresome if she does not find your insane human logic amusing. Or even if she does!

And because there are perhaps those that do not know her or her canon: she is dressed from head to toe in red leatherlike armor that clashes utterly with the unnatural blue tinge that graces her hair, eyes, and skin. It's something to make fun of, if you enjoy getting your limbs torn apart. But hey, who doesn't enjoy that these days?

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

If you're passing out by the lake any time this afternoon, please do note the young man sitting cross legged on the ice.

He won't throw a snowball at you. Probably.

trustntheharper.livejournal.com

[OOM: Belated Christmas spirit in his soul and wassail or whatever the hell it's called running through his veins, Harper makes Alessa a little present and sings crackmusic.]

jedipilot.livejournal.com

Jaina sits at the bar, playing with the Nintendo DS that Gabe had lent her. And by play, of course, Jaina's actually carefully taking apart the device using her multitool and a couple of tools Bar provided, really curious to see how this Earth device works.

Poor Gabe.

A mug of hot chocolate and a datapad also sit on the surface near her. Ignored. Because, clearly, taking apart someone's gaming system is much more interesting than looking through the list of dignitaries her mother invited to the upcoming wedding.

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

On a table near one side of the bar, Mark is sitting, his leg propped up on a chair, crutches beside him, and camera pieces sprawled out around him. Directly in front of him is a bucket of some sort of slightly-smelly cleaning solution, and a set of brushes. Mark's cleaning his camera. Anyone want to interrupt?

medicine-bird.livejournal.com

The Bar's been a pretty uncomfortable place the last couple of days, even if there's been an afwul lot of well-played music. Unfortunately, well-played music that conjures up images of messy death is hell on a telepath, particularly one with mental shields still adjusting and not nearly adequate enough.

As a result, a Jean oblivious to the root cause of all this, but quite aware that there are things with six inch long fangs getting cranky, has decided to take refuge out in the stables. She's currently seated on a haybale with a mare snuffling at her in placid hope, and seems quite content to remain in hiding.

Anyone else coming to see the pretty ponies?

sidhe-essus.livejournal.com

There is a sidhe prince in the bar, staring rather bemusedly at a door that is suddenly there after having not been for so long. He's really not sure what to make of this new development.

Poke the faerie? He'll probably jump.

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a Carl in the bar.

Wary, somewhat nervous-He tried to call Jack and-surprise the phone was busy.

So he's come here looking for him.
But he's up for finding anybody.

teyfera.livejournal.com

The Door opens and a woman falls through, landing heavily. Her eyes are closed for a moment. She is greenish-blue, and not really quite human looking, from skin to hair., and wet, and annoyed with life as she lands face and front first on the floor.

Behind her there is chaos, and water, and shifting debris that threatens, for a moment, to follow her, until the Door shuts. She lays on the ground and breathes for a moment, until she looks up.

As she sees everything around her, she shifts, her form blurring and altering, her expression changing as well. Her skin blurs, and her face, and even her clothes, change and then she is a blond haired Caucasian woman, looking terrified, and huddling back against the Door.

She looks out at the crowd of humans, and Others, and she is terrified, alone, and quite certain she has just gone insane.

slayer_fray

It's perhaps the best Mel has felt for a while. Her mind, while still not completely empty, is hers again. And it feels good.

Having been for a swim - yes, in January - and a run arounf the lake, she strides back into the bar, security badge pinned to the holster of her gun, face flushed with effort, and acquires breakfast, which she takes to a tabel in the middle of the bar to eat.

hogwartsbadger.livejournal.com

It's an insanely cheerful Helga that comes through the door singing a bright, cheerful melody. She's carrying a basket with needles and coloured threads and a carfully folded, half finished, emroidered cloak, large enough for a small child.

Helga takes a seat by the fire and orders some mulled wine. As she waits for it to arrive she takes out the cloak, threads a needle, and with a wave of her wand, sets it to finish of the flower pattern along the edge. She's paying careful attention to the work, but that doesn't mean you can't come and talk to her.

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

Coming in from his world, if one were to look carefully one might just be able to glimpse a gray and steel landscape, pattering with rain.

"...Of all the times to appear-"

This was-the heigh of inconvenience. He was attempting to get to his garage.

Sighing, he steps in and pulls the latest EC-10 material he's somehow rescued from a raid. However his hands shake and he's unable to focus on the words.

He's definately not adverse to company. Especially new company. He's come to really enjoy human companionship.

gone_byebye

Ray found himself a secluded spot out back earlier today and spent something like two hours solid in practice and meditation. That kind of thing, combined with avoiding notice while working, tends to give one an appetite. Thus, he is back in the main Bar, and he has dinner.

He also has reading material, but it looks like it's just a bunch of layouts for the innards of some GM vehicle or other.

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

There's a Horta in the Bar.

Now, given that Naraht doesn't normally wear anything but his voder, finding him wearing some sort of garment means something is up.

The fact that it is a green visor might be a clue. Along with the deck of cards, poker chips and a PADD with a list of poker games on the table in front of him.

However, the cincher is the small sign he has posted.

Inexperienced Horta Seeking Expert Poker Instruction

Anyone want to rise to the challenge?

the_antiangst

Mun's dilemma: Too many interesting people, not enough thread capacity to go tag them all.
Solution: Entrance post!
So, Angel inna bar, to say nothing of the skirt. He's at a table, for a change of pace, with pizza and tea and a light case of table percussion.
Do come and bother. He'll even share the pizza, if you can deal with the idea of pineapple on it.

wizard_howell

Wearing a small smile, Howl opens the door to the bar and walks in, a piece of paper in his hand. He doesn't even notice where he is: his focus is on the paper. He reads:

Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the Devil's foot.
Teach me to hear the mermaid's singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging.
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.

Eyes narrowed, he reads it again. "Michael, I..."

He's not home. Hello, tavern. We've really got to stop meeting like this.

(His eyes sparkle.)

guppy_sandhu

[oom: The mun, who is an idiot, has fed the original oom to the goat because she didn't know about the Dreaming and Guppy is entirely capable of falling in a holly bush of his own accord *hugs and grovels to Dream-mun*.
Tree free dream.]

There is a Guppy at the bar, eating dinner, and seemingly in better spirits than the last two days. The many hours of meditation are beginning to pay off as his state of mind gradually improves.

Come pet the large black cat that eats at his feet, or tell him that there's a holly leaf in his hair.

whitest_witch

Jadis is sitting up in bed in the infirmary, irritably picking at a patch of dead skin on the back of her left hand, fuming. Why? Who knows. Even she doesn't really know.

capt_angie

Angie comes in from out side, her broom slung over her shoulder. Her hair is widswept and her face is red with cold. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what she's been doing. She goes the the bar.

teach-them-all.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways:

Kim practices Swords and the One Power with her teacher, the Forsaken Mesaana.

This is not ominous in any way.

the_lioness

*Alanna walks in the front door and pushes the brim of her cap up as she scans the room. Her eyes linger on the infirmary. Shaking herself, she sighs and walks up to the bar, slowly shedding layers of clothing. She orders dinner, pulling a scroll out of her pack to read while she eats.*

bloodyrockgod

One year ago today, something Terrible, Awful, No-good and Very Bad Happened to Charlie.

Which would explain, wouldn't it, why he's at the piano. Music is life.

(But not music, so much.)

puckishly.livejournal.com

Puck is perched atop the piano.

He has purple eyes now.

... What, you were expecting content?

Dream on, sister.

reluctantcleric.livejournal.com

Errol had stopped by the bar earlier, and smiled at the package he received from Laini.
Some hours later, he stopped back down, and was casually humming a little, dancing some as he walked through the bar.
He was rather graceful from all those years of gunkata training.

scapepig

Outside by the lake there is a large pig trying to work something out with sticks and stones in a complicated pattern.

He'd decided he would get into trouble if he tried to do it on the floor inside the bar at the size of this particular calculation.

audieraines.livejournal.com

Audrey needs coffee. Like now.

When you work for the President, coffee is a necessity. She's pretty sure that she'll sleep easy tonight, even if she downs a pot full of coffee. She's just that tired.

So when she receives a curious letter at the bar, she just blames it on the tiredness. Cause there's no way a dead man can leave the bar for a few days to take care of a few things, unless those "few things" involve getting toasty, basking in heavenly glow, or visiting cranky old friends to warn them of impending Purgatory.

...right?

futures_of_ash

[OOM: A day or so after helping Mel and waking up, Rachel wakes up once more in the infirmary. She isn't doing wonderfully, and she apologize to any sensitives in the Bar who may be able to pick up on her misery. She doesn't mean to broadcast in the least. That said, distractions, or visitors, are welcome.]

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

( Letter for Mary Lennox )

( Letter to Helen of Troy )

( Letter to Sir Alanna of Trebond )

coming-west.livejournal.com

Once again the door did not lead to her room in the embassy, but instead to Milliways bar.

Surprised, but not displeased, Cally is now sitting at a table with the Italian paper, Il Manifesto, her Italian-English dictionary, and a pen. She occasionally mouths the words she is reading, and if you're close enough, you can here her muttering a word to herself now and then.

Every so often she uses her pen to write the pronunciation of a word underneath in IPA-style. The front page, which has been cast off to the side, even has people circled with a line out to the margin leading to a two or three words in gibberish--or IPA again, if one is familiar with it.

Wait, isn't this how John Nash went crazy? Come distract her before she either stumbles across a brilliant mathematical formula or an evil plot to eradicate squirrels.

gravity_shifter

Sikozu has been in a better mood of late. There is probably a certain personification of winter to thank for that, along with a lovely Blue dream she had last night for the first time.

Currently, she is seated at a table, writing in a notebook. Occasionally, she sips from a chocolate milkshake, which has no other purpose than it tastes good. Progress it a good thing, sometimes.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

There is a very, very, very intoxicated writer at the bar.

Considering that Tortured Artists™ have a tendency to get drunk, this might not be surprising. Considering that Jack Driscoll does not have a tendency to get drunk, this is surprising. To those who know him, especially.

Come ask what's up. Or amuse yourself with the funny drunken playwright.

Current Mood: drunk

female-were.livejournal.com

Raina's currently laying about on a couch near the fire. She's watching the bar idly from her position on the couch, though even with the predatory staring, it's evident that she may not actually take the effort to move with the promise of that stare. It's just been one of those lazy days. For her.

Feel free to poke, or otherwise engage in conversation with the werewolf.

river_meimei

The door slides open, and River and Simon step in. It's a fairly normal day, from the looks of things; he's following her closely, with an expression of... well, not quite worry, but close attention. She's glancing over one shoulder at him, cheerful and unruffled. "--Forget to color-code the dimensional vortices," River tells her brother earnestly, as the door shuts.

Well. Normal except that, in one hand, River carries a sheathed sword.

thefirstfirst.livejournal.com

Solo of Colony L2, currently going by the name of Kris because it's better for business, is very confused. He's fairly sure the guy who had sold him his garage hadn't mentioned anything about a bar in the supply closet, but it had been a good couple of years since that discussion; it was possible he'd just forgotten. Possible, but not likely--there is a bar in his supply closet. That's weird enough that he's pretty sure he would have remembered it.

He's confused, but not particularly upset; this place looks better than the local place. He just wishes he knew why it was in his closet.

Obviously, this being both a completely unexpected event and a trip to the bar, he needs a drink, so he starts walking towards the bar. Maybe he can ask the bartender what the bar is doing in his closet.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin's around, with his usual strong coffee, reading a medical journal.

He likes to keep up, after all, even if he's dead.

street-sparrow.livejournal.com

Gavroche bounces in through the painting portal and looks around for his friends.

mogget_cat

*Yrael isn't playing music, at the moment. He is standing before the fireplace, watching the patterns of light refractions from the flames through his glass of white wine.*

dequincy.livejournal.com

"Vettorello? Can you still hear me -- Vettorello, please -- shit."

Katherine'd lost her signal, yet when that happened, wasn't quite anticipating Milliways. She knew that had she called the detective with her own phone, she'd have been in quite a bit of trouble.

Prepaid phones died a lot.

It's expected.

The bar was a little less expected, but not entirely unwelcome. Out from her purse comes her room key, and she flops into a chair, ordering a black coffee and a Physician's Desk Reference.

The second one is a tad more difficult for the waitrats to carry, but once it's in front of her, she's paging urgently through it.

Interrupt, if you want.

boundxkitty

Elizabeth is lounging in a booth. A laptop in front of her is on and there are yellow people wandering about the screen. She's watching 'The Simpsons' and eating a large bowl of extremely buttered popcorn.

Come steal some popcorn. Or watch the dvds with her.