Jan. 30th, 2006

steadfastknight: (Default)
[personal profile] steadfastknight
Kitt came downstairs for the first time in a while. Mostly because she'd found herself a little reluctant to be downstairs, or to be anywhere besides in the room or at home. And they'd have to go home eventually.

It'd still be January ninth out there, anyway.

So she came down, looking forward to food, and sat at the bar.

And she wondered, as she sat, how long she'd be able to be a she.
[identity profile] witchy-rebel.livejournal.com
Morgan is walking by the lake, stick in hand and absently hitting clumps of grass as she passes - still somewhat hurt and angry over yesterday, but slowly calming down.

Mostly.

But more she's outside because inside is making her itch, with too much magic and thoughts and emotions. So, she is outside, in the cold.
[identity profile] amanda-darieux.livejournal.com
Amanda is sitting in front of the fire. In a very good mood. Though it's hard to tell given that she is frowning. She seems to be considering the fact that she would prefer the fire to be purple. Will she admit that to you if you ask? YOu will just have to come by and find out.

This is a great time for anyone to come by and chat as she is for once in a long while not breaky.
[identity profile] walker-cain.livejournal.com
Cain wanders downstairs sometime early, settling at the Bar. He eyes it somewhat warily, but speaks.

"Bar... some breakfast? And paper and a pen, please?"

A small plate of eggs and sausage appears. His eyes brows rise and he nods.

"Thank you."

He digs in while pondering what to write.
[identity profile] exspdblue.livejournal.com
Sky sits in one of the chairs near the fire. He's nice and comfy, curled up with a cup of coffee. He looks around the bar for a moment and then goes back to his thoughts. His eyes reflect the dancing flames. Feel free to interrupt him.

[OOC: I can and will tag however there will be slowness due to training.]
the_lioness: (Default)
[personal profile] the_lioness
*Early in the morning, Alanna pins the following notice to the board and steps back with a small smile.*

ExpandSecurity positions )
[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com
There's a rather new face in the Bar. The Ranger (sans encounter suit) is sitting at one of the tables, watching stars explode through the Observation Window.

There is a smile with just a hint of sadness on his face and, if you listen hard, you may hear him murmuring.

"This is the way the world ends..."
[identity profile] youngtepes.livejournal.com
A dhampire is sitting near the fireplace. His legs crossed and in 19th century garb. His long blond hair flows down his back as he looks across the bar. He stands and walks up to the bar. He thinks to himself and his features are stern and unemotional.

[OOC: Mun in training. Tags will be sporadic.]
[identity profile] wellthrownstone.livejournal.com
He needed something to eat and the bar wasn't too far from the infirmary.






That didn't mean that he didn't order up a bowl of water before his food. It was simple enough work to call up her image in the liquid, her face still pale and wane even as she slept, her breathing visibly harsh. The arm that pats the bar is shaky, as is his voice as he orders.

And his eyes never leave the image of his wife.
[identity profile] walker-cain.livejournal.com
Cain writes a note carefully:

ExpandFor Abby: )

He places the note on the bar.

"Bar can you deliver this to Abby Sciuto? Thank you."

The letter disappears. And Cain smiles and wanders off.
last_adam: (Default)
[personal profile] last_adam
*Adam grins as he finishes his breakfast. It's entirely likely that the notice on the board has something to do with his good mood. Whatever it is, why waste it?*
[identity profile] abotticellilady.livejournal.com
[Past OOM: Italy, 1944. Santino, met Bianca...

Warning: Graphic Violence.]
venusadept_2: (Default)
[personal profile] venusadept_2
[OOC: Okay, maybe it's not the frog's fault.]

Here's the state of things:
Of this spot we sings.
Venus Adept by the Lake Door,
Looking 'round, no-one knows what for
Conversation things?
Here's the state of things!
Here's the state of things!


There's a Venus Adept sitting by the lake door, looking around aimlessly. The mun is having far too much fun with these songs. He could use company.
[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
[OOM: Sarge hates this time of the month.]

Sergeant Wells comes in from outside, looking very close to physically exhausted and rather pleased with that fact as he heads upstairs to the showers. When he returns and petitions the Bar for breakfast, the result is better pancakes than he's been privileged to see since- oh, ever, really, because let's be honest, even home cooking sometimes cannot compare.

Breakfast is good, in his book.
[identity profile] oldromansaint.livejournal.com
The door opened with flourish, with a waft of warm Mediterranean air following. The signs and sounds of Italian nightlife lazily and joyously penetrate, brilliant stars and fast cars. Tall buildings and active people everywhere. Quite welcoming, really. And from this scenic backdrop a single man enters, tall- a good 6'4, with the physique of a working man. His skin was elegantly coloured with Italian olive, slightly paled now from a 600 year lack of sun.

He walked inside with the well-choreographed steps of a dancer, smiling ever warmly, punctuated by a shadow of stubble across his chin and face. He looked about the room without ceasing his walk, smiling just a little more. He likes bars.

Shay hhhhhelo to my lil' freeend: Santino.
[identity profile] gotham-knocking.livejournal.com
Looking like the runner-up in a Columbo lookalike contest, Knox stumbles through the door in that battered hat and coat. For him, it's been two days since he was here, and this time, he thought he was leaving Murray's Pub. The sudden shock has diminished the effect of his first beer of the night enough that he remembers what he has in his coat pocket...

A Nikon 35mm camera. This time he's getting proof!
[identity profile] narrator-rod.livejournal.com
Rod Serling is typing on the bar.



Certainly Bar doesn't mind a typewriter, does she?
[identity profile] watcher-g-man.livejournal.com
Watcher in the bar, with tea and brekkers.
He's been around the library mostly, and one of those weird Millitime warps have been affecting his sense of timing.
So been a while, but here's a Giles.

(occ: ack, later than I thought. I'll be off and on around today [food, class, and the like], so slowtime to be expected, but will tag as much as I can.)
[identity profile] prince-arithon.livejournal.com
Arithon enters in time to see this going on.

Guess where he's going.
[identity profile] narnianknight.livejournal.com
Last night seemed like a good idea at the time. Right now, it's seeming like a very bad idea, as is moving, speaking or thinking.

Which might explain why he's in a booth in one of the darker corners of the bar, dressed in black as usual and very slowly getting through a jug of water.
gravity_shifter: (Default)
[personal profile] gravity_shifter
There is a happy alien in the bar. She's playing quite possibly the only game she's ever allowed herself to play. It's called "two steps on the floor, two steps on the wall" and is actually a training exercise. For the moment though, it's the equivalent of almost fun.

If you've never seen her wall-walk before, feel free to boggle and inquire. If you have, the fact she's in such a good mood might be enough to stop you.
[identity profile] jackdriscoll.livejournal.com
Certain things have a tendency to happen when you chose to spend the night at Milliways. For example, Bar might become frisky and give you a new wardrobe.

Which is to say, a rather perplex but amused Jack walks downstairs wearing clothes that are not of 1933: jeans, a green long sleeved shirt, a brown corduroy jacket, and white socks. No shoes.

Hey, these modern clothes aren't so bad, after all.
[identity profile] stopped-signal.livejournal.com
Mr. Universe is in the bar again, typing away at double-speed at a very shiny laptop.

There's several empty cans of Jolt scattered over his table, and several more still sealed, though he's working through them at a respectable rate.

Come and introduce yourself, or catch up if you already know him.
colour_girl: (Default)
[personal profile] colour_girl
While everyone else seems to be doing laundry, Iris is sorting though a pile of bulbs, putting them in different piles in a semi circle around her. There seems to be no specific way she's sorting them, though. At least to anyone other person.

You could ask her, if you're interested.

[ooc: ack. work, then school stuff. be back around eight central time]
[identity profile] imperfecthero01.livejournal.com
The bar can be very inconvenient sometimes. Heero tends to forget this, sometimes - but today it's seeking to remind him.

For it decided to grab him on the way back from doing his laundry. So, there is a Heero in the bar, with... a laundry basket.

Care to comment on the state of his socks?
[identity profile] door-2-door.livejournal.com
The briefcase, pen, and paper -of the work and tablet varieties, are making an appearance again today.
Two names are written, in a neat hand, on the top sheet.

Nancy Callahan

and Miho

Beneath each name is left a few lines of space, in which the man occasionally jots notes; important details about these new arrivals who, unlike the others, are not completely new to him.

If you've met him before, you can assume that he's got ways of remembering you too.
Between considering these two girls from home, he shuffles through the papers, idly scanning one now and then, drinking his coffee, or following up on previous notes and adding details as necessary.

The other side of the booth, of course, is empty.
[identity profile] banished-to.livejournal.com
After This Hel enters the bar from the lake door, the heavy red cloak wrapped tightly around herself.

She isn't upset, not really. She's just confused.

If the Aesar aren't all bad, what does that mean for her?
the_antiangst: (Default)
[personal profile] the_antiangst
It appears to be laundry day today. For Angel, anyway; to that end, his usual couch is half buried in skirts.
Do come and bother; he'll appreciate interruptions and/or help.
[identity profile] empath-wiggin.livejournal.com
Stuff seems to happen in waves, in this bar. Thus, at a table, there is a figure in under-Jedi-robes folding laundry. Said laundry is mainly skirts and shirts, along with requisite underclothing. Valentine was out of clothes. Whoops?
twiststheblade: (Default)
[personal profile] twiststheblade
Miho is sitting at the bar with a glass of juice and a bunch of grapes, occasionally sipping the juice, or eating a grape. Mostly, though, she is watching the room. On the bar, the wire cat has stolen one of the grapes, and is patting it around. Sometimes it does something especially silly, which earns it a silent laugh and a petting.

(OOC: away for a bit sorting out supper and so on. back later! fed and back now, for an indeterminate period of time.)
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_fisshes/
Smeagol is sitting at his usual table, reading Q's book and eating a sandwich. The sandwich is delicious. The book is . . . somewhat odd.

What is a "Confederate" anyway, and why is this Stephen boy fighing a war against them?
guppy_sandhu: (Default)
[personal profile] guppy_sandhu
The crisp cold air stings Guppy's cheeks as he goes out towards the lake with skates.

He tests the ice very carefully, eying its thickness, then once satisfied puts the skates on and shoots off over the lake, being careful to stay near the edges where the ice is likely to be thickest.

He refrains from doing any twirly things and juat goes for speed, letting the cool air rush through his hair.
[identity profile] dnaromantic.livejournal.com
It has been heard by his mun that people want to play with Greg.

To which he and his new icon say o rly?

But, seriously, now.

Greg is sitting at the bar reading a book about Jack Kevorkian's death machine.

Which has been helping so very much with those unpleasant dreams about Lois O'Neil, really.

Thank you, Bar.

Ladies and gentlemen, he is at your disposal.
[identity profile] magius-unlocked.livejournal.com
Magius sits at a chair near the fire, his eyes a luminous silver as he reads a book. He is hunched down in a chair, almost hiding from the rest of the bar. Mainly because he is somewhat rattled and still unsure of even what to feel these days. But, whatever his feelings, he is always glad to see and meet new people. Even if he doesn't remember that always.
[identity profile] notashortbean.livejournal.com
Ed is outside, stalking by the lake. It's quite possible he's looking for something in there, because he's keeping his eyes right on the waters.

It's also quite possible that if you were to try to sneak up on him, you'd get a grand reaction, because he is totally not paying attention to anything else.

Wanna try?
[identity profile] conflictedhero.livejournal.com
Bruce is sprawling on a large chair near the fire, his legs up on the other side of the chair as he reads a book of children's fairy tales. On a table next to the chair is a drink of the fuzzy purple kind. He is very into the book, but open to meet new people.
princeinexile: (Default)
[personal profile] princeinexile
Early in the morning, Zuko dipped down, got breakfast-- and inquired as to clothing. Bar provided him with a few outfits -- most suited to his station and culture. And the there were the jeans and the wife beater. Zuko's got no idea how to even WEAR those, so they aren't on him now.

Instead, he finds himself in familiar black silk pants and shirt, piped in crimson, frog clasps closing the shirt all the way up the slight v gap in his mandarin collar. Subtle black on black embroidery gives the impression of flames -- a dragon roiling over his back -- over pants and shirt, and he eschews sleeves for bare arms.

In short -- he finally looks the warrior-prince he's supposed to be.

He grabs a lunch in a basket, and heads outside to the lakeside. THere he is wary of 'Ed', but proceeds to prep to go through kata and practice. Lunch, and tea in a thermos, is for later.

He dances with fire, so it might be dangerous to get too close... but what moth doesn't crave the flame?
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_estsanatlehi_/
Estsanatlehi was still around, it was possible that she'd been there since the day before. At that particular moment she was sipping tea and watching the bar. It was sage tea, with honey, out of a mug with bumblebees on.

She was still wearing faded, ripped-at-the-knees jeans, and a t-shirt that was for a tour of a band called 'Alison Wonderbread'.

She didn't have her story stick, but she did have her basket, covered with a folded blanket at the moment, and sitting on the chair beside her.

What's in the basket?
Who's Alison Wonderbread?
Why the smirk?

Go ask her, she'll probably tell you.
[identity profile] iamnotstorm.livejournal.com
Sarah was out by the lake. Practicing once more, this time wearing the uniform she'd gotten from Bruce for christmas. She was only mildly surprised to find that it fit well over her gauntlets, that was good at least, meant she'd still be able to use them and stay safer than usual at the same time.

At that particular moment she was recovering from a lap around the lake, one which she'd made as hard as possible for herself by using trees and rocks and fallen limbs as an obstacle course. She was also chucking snowballs up into the air and zapping them with tightly focused lightning bolts. She wouldn't be averse to conversation, though probably not a good idea to sneak up on her.
kitchen_maid: (Default)
[personal profile] kitchen_maid
[OOM-But-Not, millitimed vaguely to "about two weeks ago": In which Amy and Perry have tea, make plans to look for a berry bramble, and dance in the bar.

And

OOM, earlier this afternoon: In which Amy and Perry go looking for a berry bramble (which they do not find), and get terribly sweet. Curiously, there's no tea.]
[identity profile] smith-jane-mrs.livejournal.com
Jane was outside, bundled up this time, as she wasn't practicing, just enjoying the cold. She'd found a good fallen log for sitting on, and was chipping away at a rock that she suspected was a geode, she just had to get it open to find out.

It had taken a bit of doing to get a chisel small enough from the bar, and a promise that she wasn't going to hurt anyone with it. That's why no one should sneak up on her, wouldn't do for her to break a promise to Bar would it?

That said, she's actually notoriously difficult to sneak up on.
bloodyrockgod: (Default)
[personal profile] bloodyrockgod
Surprising absolutely no one, Charlie is working on a song with his guitar and his notebook.
[identity profile] h-constant.livejournal.com
Again, the woman sat at the bar, but this time there was one change.

She sat with her back to the bar as she surveyed the room, her tea and saucer held in her hands. There were, as always, so many people about. So many possible dreams...

She smiled.
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_hinky/
When Abby had originally come down after last night's adventures, she had been in a mild hurry, remembering that she had to go to something called work. Not that she didn't like the fact, of course -- she loved her job more than anything. But she figured she probably needed a change in clothes than her Sunday church clothes to appear at work in.

So she hadn't stopped by the Bar on her way out, but upon returning to the place later, she made her customary visit to the Bar, which was where she found that Cain had left her note. It made her lips quirk up as her eyes scanned the contents of the note.

After she was done reading, she asked the Bar for a pen and piece of paper to leave a reply. After all, who knew when they would meet in person again?

ExpandDear Cain... )

"To Cain, please, for whenever he drops by again," she told the Bar with a wink before handing it over. That done, she exited her seat to go mingle with the people.
cywyllog: (Default)
[personal profile] cywyllog
Cywyllog. Twins. Fireplace.

The boys are playing with blue and purple pompoms. Cywyllog is happy they're soft enough so they're not hurting themselves by bouncing them off each other's heads. In fact, she's rather amused.
[identity profile] swordchucks.livejournal.com
The door opens, and, as Fighter steps on in, the distant sounds of conflict can be heard. Not /battle/, mind you, but obviously conflict, in the form of overlapping, clearly angry voices: "... in his idiotic plan. Just what does--" "-- humor him. Really, what's the worst that--" "... your yammering and get into the gold mine! Thief, start building farms."

As the door swings shut behind him, Fighter smiles heartily at the occupants of the bar. "Hi there!" he says. "Red Mage told me to go an' collect a bunch of timber but that involves the use of axes and I don't like axes on account of they're not swords," and here he finally pauses to inhale before he plunges on, "so does anybody here know someplace I can buy some timber? I don't have any money but I can completely pay in swordchuck lessons..." another inhalation pause, during which he waggles his eyebrows suggestively "... and since swordchucks are the wave of the future, you should totally grab your surfboard, hop onto it, and ride it to the factory where they're building a better tomorrow!" He seems very pleased at this. "Let's hang ten!," he ends his little sales pitch.
[identity profile] bedside-manners.livejournal.com
Janet is feeling restless again so she bundles up and steps outside.

With no particular direction in mind, she starts off around the lake, just walking, and wondering, and remembering. Mostly remembering.

It was only when she allowed her mind to wander that she felt the most homesick...which is why she tried not to do it very often.

She speeds up into a jogging pace.
[identity profile] howmanynipples.livejournal.com
Shadwell shuffles over to the bar, glares at her suspiciously, and hurriedly empties the contents of a pocket onto her counter.

"Och, that southern pansy noos what t'do wi' this," he mutters, discomfited.

The items fail to disappear.

"No sense in playin' games, ye great witchcrafty hunk o' wood!" Shadwell growls. "Ye ken well who I mean-- calls 'imself Merriman Lyon."

And slowly, almost grudgingly, the messy little pile vanishes.

Next time Merriman Lyon comes to Milliways, he will have waiting for him twenty-four (24) packets of sweetener of various varieties, two (2) tins of condensed milk, eleven (11) paperclips, and three (3) spoons.



[OOC: Not an entrance, say sorry. I've got to get to an acting workshop. I'll be home around nine PM central time.]
[identity profile] kayip.livejournal.com
[OOM: Unexpected Company. Warnings for murder of cute, furry animals.]
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/
Enters the Frost, and a run, leaping through the bar with contageous excitement and good cheer, much in the manner of one who is just too happy to sit still.

No real reason. Just a nice, cold day.

Bet he made you smile.
scapepig: (Default)
[personal profile] scapepig
Snowball is by the fire with a big bowl of carrot sticks.

Come chat to him. He'd be happy to share.
[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com
(OOM: Ace asked for trouble. She found it.)

Ace strolls into the bar.

Nonchalantly.

Betcha didn't know she could do nonchalant. Well, she can. And does so.

It's a stiff nonchalant, but still. She makes her way over to a nice, quiet, not-likely-to-get-jostled booth, and sets to work flagging down a waitrat.

She really isn't paid enough. Nope.
[identity profile] pointed-spoon.livejournal.com
Through, through the closed door steps Dworkin.

Ahahaahaa!


It doesn't

have to
close

behind him

Because it was never open!
[identity profile] blind-courage.livejournal.com
The door to the lake blew open, and in rushed an exceedingly excited doberman puppy. Attached to her leash was a very windblown, flushed-cheeked, laughing blind girl, who was doing a rather commendable (if uneffective) job of reigning the little dog in.

"Kitty," she laughed, tugging on the leash. "You are not supposed to leave me behind!"

If you had thought this particular blind girl was gone, you would have been wrong. She's been around, but busy. Spending her time curled in quiet corners, reading book upon book (with the aid of one rather large, braile, encyclopedic dictionary) and learning about modern music (Yes to soul, no to heavy metal), among other things. Had you known her before, you might recognize that she had taken to dressing in more modern clothing, although she still favored long skirts and heeled boots. She was catching onto slang, generally exploring her horizons, and spending a great deal more time in Rhode Island than she ever had expected.

The puppy was insistant upon pulling her new owner over to the bar, where she sat next to an empty stool and looked about rather importantly, likely thinking she had done a Very Good Job.
[identity profile] darling-alexi.livejournal.com
(OOM of sorts: How Alexi got to where she was in canon, and then how she got from there to yesterday's thread with Norrington. Rated I for Insanely Long and W for Gratuitous Canon Whitetext, both from the musical and the movie (as memory serves).
[identity profile] shang-dragon.livejournal.com
Liam sits at a table finishing up an old carving project. It looks much less like a piece of wood and much more like a flute now.
[identity profile] maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com
Elaine comes down to the bar to have a drink and relax a bit, as well as meet new people.

Elaine gets her chocolate milkshake along with a book.

So now she's sitting curled up in a booth, reading intently.

But she'd love company, even so.
undignified: (Default)
[personal profile] undignified
Wes is lying on one of the couches near the fire, head on the armrest, staring up at the rafters.

He is not sleeping, nor is he drunk -- he may, in fact, be brooding, after yesterday.

That can't be good.
collects_ears: (Default)
[personal profile] collects_ears
Whistling to himself, George slips behind the bar.

He glances at the Specials Board, then announces:

"Tonight's drinks are Gin and Sin, Golden Comfort, Grapes of Wrath and Green Eyes.."

"What'll it be?"
[identity profile] bloody-awful.livejournal.com
John's in the bar, with a pint of Guinness and a plate of chips with vinegar.  And an overflowing ashtray.
[identity profile] shaped-jeedai.livejournal.com
After two days to recover from the Wedding and Receptions of Doom, there is a Tahiri in the Bar.

Not so much drinking a strawberry milkshake as grinning it to death.

She's happy. Gee, wonder why?
[identity profile] bohemian-mark.livejournal.com
[OOM: Mark talks to the Loony Fangirls. Milli-timed to... sometime last weekend.]

The door opens rather uncermoniously, and Mark wanders through. It's not a very exciting entrance, in fact, It's almost mundane. Mark's arms are full of three brown paper bags, messenger bag over his shoulder. "Roger? Maureen? Could someone help me with this? I'm about to drop these...." Someone might want to tell him that he's not in the Loft.
mistressmaryquitecontrary: (Default)
[personal profile] mistressmaryquitecontrary
Mary is sitting at a table in the bar, flipping through her book on trees, her feet absently kicking against the legs of her chair.

She's concentrating very seriously. Her tree may be planted - but that's only the beginning.

You have to be careful with growing things.
[identity profile] loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com
Jason is outside, sitting by the lake. It's just starting to get dark, which means the demon bunnies should be stirring.
He gives a slow stretch and looks around, watching for Yrael.

[OOC: semi-plotlocked. Just Ping Jeffiner42 before tagging]
[personal profile] prydeful
Someone's cranky.

And tired.

And, in fact, curled up on one of the couches, with her dragon, and glaring at the fireplace.

There's a good reason for this.

We call it, "dealing with teenaged mutants who think it's fun to see what new and exciting chaos they can cause".

It may also be karma's revenge for her own teenaged years, but she's firmly not thinking about that.

(And by karma we mean the universal force type deal, not, y'know. The mutant. Her payback is most likely to involve forcing someone to babysit her twin siblings after she's given them too much sugar.)
[identity profile] flakygoodness.livejournal.com
It's been said that Geoff has been missed. Whether or not that's the reason that he's found his way to Milliways once again is unclear. But the fact remains that he's here.

He's got himself a table in the middle of the bar. Set out around the table are several plates of cookies (or biscuits, if you're on that side of the Pond): sugar, chocolate chip, white chocolate macadamia nut, and oatmeal raisin.

There's a sign in the middle of the table that reads "HELP YOURSELF!"
[identity profile] not-like-lilly.livejournal.com
Petunia is in the bar once more, after going through a rather antisocial phase. This is evident due to the fact that she has a new afghan knit about 90% of the way. It's quite the interesting design this time, black with a few shades of white in speckled and swirled patterns.

It should be noted that some quirk of milliphysics has the view from Petunia's window look out in the same direction as the viewing window in the main bar.
[identity profile] jackdriscoll.livejournal.com
Still without shoes, Jack Driscoll pads over to the bar. With a letter.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and places the letter on the bar. "Could you give this to Satine, please?" he says quietly. The letter vanishes.

Jack Driscoll heads back upstairs to his room.
kitchen_maid: (Default)
[personal profile] kitchen_maid
Amy, in the bar, and in a dazzingly good mood this evening.

And she has tea.
[identity profile] hanild.livejournal.com
A pretty blonde girl is singing softly to herself as she wanders around the observation area. The language is likely only recognizable by one other patron, and we believe she's in the infirmary.

Compnay is welcome, especially if you're going to comment on what a lovely voice she has. Even if she doesn't.
[identity profile] no-comb-shep.livejournal.com
Sheppard strolls into the bar, so busy rattling something off to himself about drives and shields that it takes him a moment to realize he's no longer in Atlantis. Shrugging to himself, he heads over to the Bar, sitting down and glancing around. "At least I walked in here after we messed around with the jumpers," he mumbles to himself, then orders a beer. He keeps an eye out as he drinks, still idly scanning the bar, and barely seems to notice the fact that he's still rather soggy and dripping onto everything.
[identity profile] air-scooting.livejournal.com
For anyone in the bar, it was a whole fifteen minutes.

For Aang, he had found his door at last, once he decided to go back inside the bar. He was joyful; he could leave, see his friends... maybe prevent things. Zuko's words were angry, but surely... he'd be able to change things--

No.

For Aang, he had found his door at last, and in some ways, he had wished it was not so.

It was fifteen minutes in the bar.

It was much longer for Aang. A few months. Two, maybe three -- how could a boy keep track, in the midst of things like... well, war?

Stepping through the door that once led to his world, it was gone again. He was tired. He looked a little more worn.

He looked angry.

"Zuko," he muttered furiously.
[identity profile] thefirstfirst.livejournal.com
Solo is sitting at a table, staring intently at a bottle of beer. It should be fairly obvious that he's lost in thought, not fascinated by the bottle. At the same time, he's not entirely convinced that both the beer and the bar aren't about to disappear; he figures it's a good idea to keep an eye on his drink just in case.
[identity profile] somnium-sum.livejournal.com
He steps through a door and it quickly swings shut behind him, with a rush of air that stinks of stagnant water. A thin frown, not at all pleased with his current condition. He walks, not gliding, but dragging his feet because his boots are soggy with water. Soaked all the way to his calf, the material of his trousers and coat hangs heavily. Wet prints mark the path he takes to the booth.

Tucked in, soon he is barefoot.
[identity profile] dragonvolunteer.livejournal.com
The door opens and a young woman peers cautiously inside. Her eyebrows immediately raise and she puts her hands on her hips, studying the scene before her. It appears to be a tavern of some sort. Well, you never know what you'll get when you open a magical door, that's for certain, but a tavern is not at all what she expected.

She looks a bit frazzled, which makes some sense, as she's spent most of the day cleaning the treasure room. This might also help to explain the large apron she's wearing over her simple red dress, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and the rather large feather duster she holds in one hand. What it doesn't explain is the small gold circlet she's wearing.

Is she a maid? Or perhaps a princess? Or, mayhaps, a Chief Cook and Librarian?

You'll have to ask her to find out.

Curiosity overwhelming her common sense for just a moment, Cimorene of Linderwall steps through the door and into Milliways.
[identity profile] fire-of-mahal.livejournal.com
Dwarves don't spend all their time at the forge, much though Gimli might find that a fair way to increase the sort of craft his people are charged with learning. Sometimes they've got to come up for air and food, and perhaps for study where they can manage it. And so it is; Gimli with something roasted and a tankard of ale, and a fat volume bound in old leather.

It might possibly lose some of its 'appropriate' look if someone were to peer over Gimli's shoulder, because it's a swanky cover for a book that's actually on gunsmithing.
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[personal profile] withamagicword
Billy is at a table tentatively poking at a laptop. He has been trying to learn computers and so far it is going well, but he is still very new to it and tonight this one is giving him a little trouble. He is frowning at it and wondering what exactly he did wrong in this life or a former one to deserve this particular torment. Nearby a book and several dvds rest, along with a tall milkshake.
[identity profile] the-eternal-man.livejournal.com
There's an old man in the bar. An old man who seems to be looking rather smug. Guess who got a job?

The tankard of ale may be there as a celebration. Or...well, it's not like he's never been seen carrying ale around before. Either way, Belgarath's in a good mood and up for conversation.
[identity profile] singlesoledjest.livejournal.com
Mercutio. Apple juice. Pasta.

Have at.


[ooc: carries heinous slowtime warnings: only have an hour and a bit this evening.]
[identity profile] firmus-piett.livejournal.com
Former admiral, in a booth.

Writing, which is an improvement over idleness.

Have at.
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[personal profile] colour_girl
Iris is still in the bar, still sorting the flower bulbs. But this time she's got her mug and a big bag of skittles on the table.

She's also humming a little bit.
[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
It's a pity it's getting late out there. Wells got down to just about his last nerve today, and went over to the Bar to ask for something that would help with the problem. It gave him a football.

No, not the pointy kind. Bloody Americans...

Anyway, he's actually kind of pleased about that, but it's night out there, dammit. So now he's got a football next to him at his table, and also a beer. One of these two things is being put to the use which God intended.
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[personal profile] the_lioness
*Hoping to be unobtrusive, Alanna exits the staff quarters and ducks into the kitchen. She returns a few minutes later with several apples and a thermos, all of which she quickly stashes in her pack. Pulling the string with her teeth, she looks around and waits for Adam.*
[identity profile] osuwarigirl.livejournal.com
Here's a rare sight. The Bone Eater's Well has once again deposited one fifteen year old Japanese girl back into the world of the bar. This, she is extremely thankful for. She stretches in her seat at a booth on one wall of the room with a relaxed smile.

Come by and say hello!
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[personal profile] kitchen_maid
[OOM: Kitchen Party! In a valiant attempt to keep themselves from cooking, Meg and Amy fill the kitchen with party goers and glitter and festive aprons, much to the chagrin and confusion of the kitchen staff. Millitimed to Saturday (some threads may still be slowtiming along). And for the record, the kitchen was clean when the girls left it. Except, perhaps, for the odd fleck of glitter. But that's glitter for you.]
[identity profile] dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com
One former member of Team Angel, sipping tea at the bar. He's just closed a copy of the Malleus Maleficarum, with a disgusted shake of the head and a grumbled "Morons."

Now he remembers why it's been years since he bothered to look at it.

OOM

Jan. 30th, 2006 10:33 pm
[identity profile] wellthrownstone.livejournal.com
OOM: Garion and Ce'Nedra at the Infirmary [Garion and Ce'Nedra spend some time relaxing after everything that happened.]
[personal profile] ladyfirestarter
Charlie McGee is sitting near the fireplace, with a mug of hot chocolate and a croissant.
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[personal profile] gonna_live
The front door opens, and somebody enters.

PAN UP: Boots clomping across the floor. Coveralls (with awkward embroidery of a vine with three flowers that used to be white) streaked with grease at the knee and on the thigh. Rag hanging out of one pocket. Open V at the chest; the shirt below is long-sleeved, sky-blue, and paisley-patterned. Black mark on left cheek. Hair mussed and pulled back in a haphazard ponytail.

The mule has been acting up, and this is one of those rare times when Kaylee's having trouble sussing out why.

" -- hey, Bar? Can I get a schematic for the Alban Roadmaster SX?"

Now, from above: Kaylee on a barstool, hunched over a piece of digital paper, leaning on her left elbow, left hand curled and resting on her shoulder.

We like camera angles.
[personal profile] whitest_witch
Jadis had managed to spill ink on her white poet shirt, so she had asked Bar for a replacement. She had been provided with a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and a 'Rites of Spring' shirt. Which she is wearing over each other. Patrons, meet. . . emo-Jadis. She is currently sat, as usual, in a chair by the fire with a book.
[identity profile] prone-to-panic.livejournal.com
Archie's been in the bar now for a while. Really. You just, um, didn't notice him before this moment. And he's not practicing new covert observation techniques or anything. He's just sitting there nicely, sipping his tea. Come chat.
[identity profile] youalleverybody.livejournal.com
Liam's at the bar, by himself this time, with a Guinness.

Come say hi.