milliways_bar | Feb. 1st, 2006

Feb. 1st, 2006

notashortbean.livejournal.com

Ed's not drunk anymore - which is pretty much to be expected, considering he's had about 24 hours to get through that and the hangover. Somehow through getting drunk, he ended up with a roommate, which is something he just plain doesn't understand at all.

He's not gonna complain about it, though. She's kinda hot.

Anyway, he's had a lot of time to think about things since then, especially about what happened when he left the bar after just coming back here. He'd gotten home, and found that time had kind of progressed - and not only that, but his dad was oddly... gone.

Searching for him hadn't turned up anything, but before Ed could worry too much, he'd ended up right back at the bar. And then things had gotten chaotic and drunkified, and, well.

But now he's had time to think. And time to worry. So he's gotta go right back out there.

Since he has no idea when the bar door might reveal itself to him again, and he remembers what happened last time, he drops a few notes on the bar first. Three, to be precise.

For...

( Duo Maxwell )

( Steph )

( Al Elric )
None of the notes are signed. Hopefully the recipients will be able to guess exactly who gave them these notes.

Ed pats the bar, as it accepts them. "Thanks," he says, and heads off for the door.

not-a-surgeon.livejournal.com

Bonnie came in, focusing on a book and a catalog more than her surroundings, but that was nothing new. She was, judging from her backpack, somewhat prepared.

The question was - for what?

ms-myers.livejournal.com

[ OOM: An unexpected visitor has dropped by... ]

blankslatelogan.livejournal.com

What do you do for fun when you're trapped in a bar at the end of the universe? Logan had already explored the forest and the lake area - had spent several days at it, in fact. Just to be thorough. Or pretend he's not stuck after all. Anyone's guess.

Now he's sitting at a table, with a beer, not quite people-watching.

stilljustandrew

[OOM: A voicemail exchange, between somewhere in California and Rome.]

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

(Millitimed to the past several days, primarily in the Infirmary)
OOM: Draco continues suffering through his current madness in the infirmary. And he recieves some help and visitors.
Firstly, his mother, Narcissa, has been keeping an eye on her son, and like any protective mother, making sure her boy tries to eat regularly.
Later... After escaping from it in a nightmare-induced flight, made from his memories out back to the frozen lake, his mother, and Tom Riddle help him. Later, Malcolm and Tom both meet with him seperately to further help. Malcolm by way of tough shrink approach and hypnosis, and Tom by way of Legilimancy, and reassuring comfort.

ectnotert.livejournal.com

"Next person who tells me the way home was with me the entire time, I'm smacking them."
-D. Gale

Another day like any other here. Just a day, lounging, drinking beer. At least, it is until I hear the voice.

"Aahz! Aahz, It's Skeeve! Can you hear me? Grab the rope Aahz!"

I jump to my feet, peering about, searching for any sign of this rope. Then I spot it. Right against the wall, where they said the door is. A hefty piece of strong rope. Without even a seconds thought, I grab onto it, and find myself being pulled right THROUGH the wall. And away.

((OOC:Aahz has left the building. He'll be back))

bloodandnicotine

Spike is dancing.

Not just dancing, but a hootin and a hollerin as well.

You see, something has appeared to him. A door. A very spoecial door. And even though when he opened it up, it was stilla rain drenched battlefield outside, the door is still open for him.

So he leaps up on top of the bar and shouts for all to hear.

"DRINKS ARE ON ME!"

virii-twins.livejournal.com

Even in a place like Milliways, a couple of six and a half foot tall albino rastafarians should stick out, yes?
In any case, there are a couple of them, over by the observation window, standing shoulder to shoulder, one watching the destruction outside, the other scanning the bar. Occasionally they trade off, other than that they don't move at all, and are more or less silent.

Who are they? What are they? Where did they come from?
They probably won't tell you even if you ask, but couldn't hurt to try, right?

( mun is heading off to work, like, now, but pups are very demanding, be slowtime for about an hour and a half, then back, tag away however, I'll pick up later. )

elrond-healer.livejournal.com

Fresh in from a walk through the back area, Elrond settles into a booth.

There, he begins reading from a scroll, and thinking, and, every now and then, writing down notes on a pad of paper.

He appears to be concentrating very specifically on something, but he also watches the bar with interested eyes.

inquisitivehero

Outside the Infirmary door, at his usual table, Doctor Hank McCoy sits, studying files on his rather odd looking laptop. His ears seem rather taut this morning as they flick at just about every sound from the Infirmary, and he makes frequent trips into that place. Also on his table is a bowl of breakfast cereal and a large mug of coffee.

gorlim.livejournal.com

There is a somewhat melancholy traitor hanging about in the bar this morning. He's staring at the fire in a hypnotized sort of way.

It's probably a good idea to come distract him.

If you're his brother, even better.

gentleprince.livejournal.com

The population of princes in the bar has just increased by one.

Faramir is in a booth with his nose in a book and a bowl of cranberries on the table. Every now and then he even remembers to eat one.

It should be noted that he DOES look up towards the infirmary door rather often.

gris_bug_man

Well now. Here is someone you hardly ever see this early.

Grissom is in the bar, a squirming baby resting on his lap. He's feeling almost completely at ease. God help him when she learns how to crawl.

Feel free to bother.

~~[ooc: Slowtime at 11:00am CST. Returning 1.5 hrs afterwards.]~~

oldromansaint.livejournal.com

The level of Italians in has been raised by one, as Santino is now amongst us. Without looking back at the closing door, he took a seat. He honestly doesn't expect to be using it for very long.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells rests a hand on the Bar.

"I know it might be a mite early in the morning for this," he says quietly, "but I've got to get this done, I figure. . . What can you give me that'd do for a soldier's funeral?"

There is a pause, in which the Bar does nothing.

"Oh, for- not for me," he says with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, thank you. A funeral when I haven't got the bodies, all right? What've you got?"

Another pause. And just as he's about wondering whether to explain further or give up, two packages appear. One, examined, contains a bottle whose contents Wells knows from personal experience make a splendid antiseptic. The other- "Yeah," Wells says, his voice failing him briefly. "Yeah, that'll do. Thanks."

He pats the Bar gently and heads upstairs. When he comes back down, he's in the clean, new uniform Bar provided for him, and he heads outside as far as he can go.

somnium-sum.livejournal.com

Slightly rumpled and ruffled from lack of sleep is the knight sprawled out on the floor beside the fireplace, garbed in glamour: claret waistcoat, a lacy cravat, a coat of black velvet and breeches of fine doeskin with leather boots to the thigh. He, with a plate of honey-slathered toast and a steaming cup of coffee, head bowed over book of verse opened and propped against his knee.

shang-dragon.livejournal.com

OOM: This morning by the lake. Adam's trial period is up.

twiststheblade

Miho is out behind the Bar, in stockinged feet, running through a series of sword kata. She's not exactly barefoot, but it's hard to practise on grass whilst wearing rollerblades. . . It might not be a good idea to sneak up on her, but as long as you make some noise, she won't skewer you. Probably.

someonesdog

She should get an entrance post. And I think it should contain curry.

So: Werewolf. Bar. Vegetable biriyani. And beer.

Better mood than normal, really.

mnt_raph

*Raph emerges from the Staff Hallway.
Seems that someone relocated his bike to an out of the way portion of the gym. Raph took the hint, and has been working steadily on the bike ever since. Well...so long as the gym is unoccupied, that is.

But now? Now it's time for a beer and a pick-up shift.
Maybe lunch.

He takes a spot at the end of Bar and sets about trying to remove the engine grease from his hands.*

stopped-signal.livejournal.com

Hacker. Table. Laptop. Many empty Jolt cans.

Has he actually slept in the last two days?

guppy_sandhu

There are two medics in a booth by the fire having a rematch. Today it's a Cluedo set the bar came up with.

"I think it was done in the lighthouse by Professor Mushroom with the carrot."

Guppy blinks. "What carrot?"

"That carrot."

"That's a stake"

"No it ain't, it's got leaves. It's an unusual version. Have you got any of them or not?"

Guppy looks down at his cards.

Beat.

"Yes. I've got the, er, carrot." He shows the card then moves his figure. "Superintendant Onion, Fire escape, grenade."

Beat.

"I've got a pineapple."

namo

There is a decidely melancholy Vala hanging about in the bar this afternoon.

He is seated close to the fire, his eyes unblinking as he stares into the flames.

Námo has discovered that Things change, and he doesn't much like it.

floating-skull.livejournal.com

Okay, so there's a skull in a bar, right? It happens to be pushing a very thick hardcover book with its jaw across the floor. It stops at a table, heaves a sigh, then bites down on the book's cover and slowly begins to hover up into the air.

Very slowly. Making that creaky groan that people do when they're straining something.

clumsy_auror

[OOC: Mal gives a gift, and gets a handy lesson in return. Among other things.

whitest_witch

Jadis is perched on a barstool, eating a salad and making notes. She has a couple of sheets of paper with various scrawled diagrams, and complicated looking equations on. She looks pretty engrossed, but relaxed. She's not that likely to bite anyone's head off. Not today, anyway.

iopenthings

Door's at the bar, sipping a raspberry russian. She's got an appointment, but not until a bit later, and so she's dropped in for a visit.

not_that_spike

For a long time, the only person Spike knew here from his own time and location was Ed. Well, Ed and the dog, but the dog doesn't count as a person even though Ein thinks he ought to. And Spike kind of liked it that way: made things easy. Not too many questions, not too many things he had to answer for.

Now, all of a sudden, there's a lot of them: Ed, Ein, Faye, Julia, Gren, Stella. All he has to say about that is thank fuck Vicious isn't here.

It isn't that he thinks about this shit a hell of a lot: it's just the way things are and no matter what fate throws at him, he'll be okay. He can deal with it. The only thing that would set him off in a really bad way would be if anything -- anything -- from his past ended up hurting Beth in any way.

But he's not anticipating trouble. Especially not today: he's done his first official workout since before he and Beth left for Christmas-on-Venus and he feels really good. He stops at the bar for a couple bottles of cold water before moving over to the usual table by the fire. It's a good table: he can stretch his legs out; he can pretend he's not smoking as much as he is by flicking cigarette butts into the fire; he can watch the flames if he feels like ignoring people; he's got a good view of the bar's comings and goings.

Plus, he can always see Beth when she walks into the room. Of course, there's not a hell of a lot that keeps him from noticing her. Ever.

shaped-jeedai.livejournal.com

There is a girl in the greenhouse.

She's there because it's warm and has growing things (well, growing things and a weird sort of stain that doesn't feel quite like life ought to). And because, more importantly, as far as Tahiri knows Zekk's never been out here and won't think to look for her here.

She's wandering around barefoot with the book Ray gave her, trying to attach the names of flowers to their descriptions. She still doesn't know what to plant yet, and maybe it'll be easier to decide if she actually knows what some of these things look like.

undignified

Wes is sitting at the Bar, glancing 'round every so often at the not'door -- but it's still definitely a wall.

In the meantime, he's got a chocolate milkshake and a bowl of new (to him) Earth candy -- jelly babies.

Man'll turn diabetic soon, no doubt about it.

eostre-of-dawn.livejournal.com

A goddess steps through the door. Only, it doesn't look much like a goddess at the moment, she's got far too many sweaters on for that. A few moments later though, she's peeled off most of her outerwear, retrieved her tequila sunrise from Bar and has settles herself in front of the fire.

Ahh... Milliways.

kayip.livejournal.com

[OOM: Adaptation. Still lost in the woods, but never really alone.]

virii-twins.livejournal.com

The Twins had spent most of the day in their room, at some point they'd returned to the bar to get swords, not as good as they had at home, but they'd do for practice at least.

Judging by the amount of churned up snow, and even the mud, it was clear that they'd been at the duel a while. They couldn't move quite as quickly as they could at home, but they were still surprisingly fast, perfectly sure in their movements.

Jackets had long since been shed, leaving them both in shirts and vests and still going at it full-beam.

Go, watch, ogle, interrupt, whatever.

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

Stop us if you've heard this one.

Two librians walk into a bar.

One's a cleric, considered the best that his society has to offer. The other is his son, bound to follow in his father's footsteps.

You haven't heard it?
Two Librians for the price of one. Tag at your leasiure.

bloodyrockgod

Charlie. Guitar. Bare toes.

Add tea and an invisible boyfriend and you've got a recipe for a very contented musician.

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith is at the piano, playing Rachmaninoff with one hand and sipping unnaturally strong coffee with the other.

Feel free to comment on either of these things.

button-masher.livejournal.com

The door opens, and Tycho wanders in, eating a carrot...grimacing as he remembers his earlier conversation with Gabe...about carrots. Eugh.

He finds a seat in an armchair, and settles into it. Mm. This place is kind of nice. But he won't ever say it.

[ooc: canon puncturing may occur...plz be careful, kthnx. and the mun is going to go for a bit, kids came home and she feels sick. So if you want, leave tags and she will reply to them for slowtime!

She may not be back on till late tomorrow or not till Friday, however. :( She apologises.]

hollywdcockroch.livejournal.com

There's a Carl Denham inna bar.

He's got a pamphlet and it looks like he hasn't slept, but it's not one of those "Alcoholic" not-sleeps, it's a-well-a good not sleep.

Says he's been busy.

Grinning, he plays with the pamphlet, folding it into a paper airplane and out again.

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

The door opens, and Mark bikes into the bar, coat pulled around him, and dripping wet. Looks like someone doesn't know where his towel is. Or the operation of an umbrella. He props the bike against the wall, and drips over to a table, and plunks into a chair, pulling out a rather soggy notebook, and scribbling away. Someone might want to hand the boy a towel. Please?

balletrat

*Meg's in the bar, sitting at a table, with Derry.

Derry is, for the (rare) moment, asleep in Meg's lap. Meg, meanwhile, is attempting to sip her coffee around the baby's head.

(She's quite sure it's been more than a week. It must have been more than a week. It's been a week, Meg is convinced, since the last time Derry slept.)*

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

[OOM: Room 108--Jason is in his room, recovering.]

[Open for visitation, but please Ping Jeffiner42 before tagging. Say thankya!]

mop-jockey.livejournal.com

Lenny Inchpot likes his pasta with marinara, so he's eating a rather large plate of said meal.

He has also decided to treat himself to a glass of wine.

And there are candles. Three, to be exact. A tall one in the middle, flanked by the two smaller candles.

Anna Marie liked candles.

Dinner by candlelight.

His friends back home would laugh, shake their heads and roll their eyes.

And he'd invite them for a bite, his treat.

cywyllog

You might not think that one of the armchairs by the fire can hold three people comfortably. Well, it can, mostly in this case because two of the three people are merely two years old and are sitting more on their mother than the chair.

Cywyllog is actually used to it, and since the boys are pretty much asleep, she's not going to disturb them immediately. She wouldn't be adverse to company either, provided it's the quiet kind.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

The shoes continue to be neglected. The alcohol, however, does not.

So there's a writer curled up in a booth nursing a strong drink. And the books, today? Also neglected.

Bother.

torch-reporter.livejournal.com

Chloe's sitting at a booth tonight, enjoying a mug of hot coffee while she flips through an old edition of the Daily Planet. Her digital camera lies on the table nearby. Y'know, just in case anything out of the ordinary - well, for Milliways standards anyway - happens.

A good reporter should always be prepared.

[mun apologizes if replies are slow as she finishes up figures for a paper.]

shelley_winters

[OOM: In her room, Shelley has not been eating in her misery, attempting to sleep off a concussion and is ill from catching a chill. And then she recieves a visitor.]

copper-fray.livejournal.com

Erin is settled at the bar, finishing up dinner.

It's been an interesting few days, if markedly lacking in catastrophe. This makes a nice change.

She doesn't expect it to last.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM: Down The Gravel Road. Jack finally finds a sanctuary, of a sort.]

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

Today, Jack is rather subdued.

No, nothing's wrong. He's just being quiet, for a change. Looking a bit rumpled, like he's been sleeping somewhere strange, curled up the wrong way.

His hair sticks out in odd places.

lyra_silver

It's a chilly, clear evening in Lyra's Oxford. She and Pantalaimon had to be careful, climbing into the window over the iron fence of the Botanical Gardens, not to freeze themselves or let Lyra's coal silk coat catch on the points of the fence. When they come into Milliways, they shut the door quickly behind them, so as not to let any cold air in.

[ooc: Am here and open for any tags, but moderately sleepy. Expect slowness. Also, in two hours I shall turn into a pumpkin and be off.]

gonna_live

Once upon a time in the magical world of Milliways, Kaylee and Eddie Dean were having a conversation. Kaylee said wistfully that she'd always wanted to try bartending, only...mechanic, and lack of time. Well, says Eddie, How about you take a shift and see what it's like?

So. Cookies have been dropped off at the Dean residence as a way of saying thanks; the Black Books of Bartending Lore under Bar have been perused (on Eddie's advice), a few specials have been chalked up on the board:

Specials:

Wooly Mitten
Pink Cello
Tangerine Dream
New Canaan brandy

And Kaylee is leaning on Bar, looking eager and adorable. You know how it is. Sometimes you just want to duct-tape her mouth and drop her in the hold for a month.

"Hey, folks. Happy Hour's open. What'll you have?"

caramel-colored.livejournal.com

Hunter comes in through the House of Arch painting.

There is a fading bruise on her left cheekbone, and a fine tinge of sweat on her face.

She orders a beer from the Bar, and heads for a corner booth.

There might be a hint of easing tension in her posture when she finally settles in.

Might be.

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

He sits at the bar, his eyes on a small bowl near his hand. He's eating, for a given value of 'eating' and drinking...

Well, yes, he's definitely drinking.

ineedavicodin.livejournal.com

Doctor in a booth. With soup and a rehydrating drink, and a bottle of pills in his pocket.

He has a look of misery about him, and every once in a while he grunts and rubs his nose. He shares his mun's annoyance today, that burny-tingly feeling that you have to sneeze and you just...can't. He's not amused.

Please distract him, although the mun will have to call slowtime about 11, maybe 11:30 est.

virii-twins.livejournal.com

The Twins came padding in from outside with a Jedi in tow,

One of the pair lead Tahiri to a booth while the other went to get something warm to drink from Bar.

hanild.livejournal.com

Hanild is sitting quietly in the observation area. She's not singing today, rather, she has a mug of ale and is simply watching the stars.

Company is welcome.

river_meimei

It's a wait for mail, sometimes, when you live on a spaceship; sure, you have a port of call somewhere, and a box there, but you have to wait until the next time you swing by there before you get mail. Every couple of weeks at the most; longer, when you're busy with jobs, or in another corner of the 'verse.

But Serenity made a stop recently, to restock and pick up sundries like mail.

Which is why River, when she steps through the door in a purple sundress and black sequin-laden shawl, is cradling a new issue of Physics Monthly under one arm. (This is a journal OF THE FUTURE!; it's on one double-sided sheet of stiff digital paper, with a touch-screen of buttons in one corner to flip pages.)

song_tra_bong

Mary Anne inna booth. In contrast to spending last night getting hammered, tonight she's working on solid food.

A pizza, to be specific. There may be spinich. Also, bacon.

Way too much pizza for a girl to eat alone. Come on over and help her out.

[ooc: mun is not sure how long she'll be around, but wanted to give her girl an entrance post in honor of defeating the Paper of Doom.]

stbethadettes

Two things catch Beth's eye when she gets downstairs: the Happy Hour specials, none of which she's had before, and the tall bounty hunter by the fire.

Happy Hour first, then the world.

Or Happy Hour first, then just Spike. She'll happily take what she can get.

buriedmybrother.livejournal.com

Antigone has been spending a lot of time outside, either in the greenhouse or out in the snow.

This has not been for the purposes of avoidance.

Not even if your name starts with "R" and rhymes with "Zaven."

At any rate, even though it's long past dark, Antigone is still sitting on the greenhouse floor, letting the warmth and the scent of flowers surround her.

It's zen, in a way.

Not like she knows what "zen" is.

[OOC: Sleep. It calls to me. May we slowtime, lovely people? I love each and every single one of these threads, and you deserve an awake!Merc.]

fairest1.livejournal.com

Winter is still going strong, and for Snow SAD works in reverse. She's feeling rather energized these days, keeping up with the kids most of the time, and generally in a more cheerful mood than before. And thus, this blustery day finds Snow curled up in her old booth with a mug of hot chocolate, under gentle orders from her family to get in and relax on her own a bit. She couldn't decide what to read, so asked Bar for a recommendation.

As her mun has a somewhat cruel sense of humor at times, it may be best if someone interrupts her before she gets too far into it.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

Angela is down in the bar, with her mp3 player, her head bobbing along with the music, some mid-21st century neo-punk or something.

Or the Grateful Dead.

Hey, if she can't smoke pot anymore, at least she can listen to the Dead.

As usual, she's wearing baggy black clothing and too much makeup. She's eating a burger and fries and drinking a coke.

She'll pop the earbuds out of her ears if you want to talk to her.

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR drives into the bar from the lake, but he stops before he's fully inside, holding the door open with his prow. His scanner flicks from side to side rapidly for a moment until he's satisfied with his quick scan and drives in completely. The AI makes his way over towards the bar herself, parking nearby his scanner continues to move rapidly. Every so often he turns slightly from side to side, seeming to be on the lookout for something.

stilljustandrew

*The front door opens, and in comes Andrew, pocketing his cellphone.*

*No luck yet in finding Angel. Which, he has to remind himself sternly, is probably a good thing.*

subtle-will.livejournal.com

Will is a quiet sort, so it wouldn't be surprising if you hadn't noticed him walking through the door, Kirjava like a shadow at his feet.

Whether you did or not, however, he's sitting at the bar, with a copy of The Death and Trials of Socrates and a cup in front of him, Kirjava sitting motionless on the bartop.

Clearly Will is branching out this term.

scapepig

By the fire is Snowball, who has nearly completed the plans for his windmill, and is just making some last minute adjustments.

Come say hello. He is in a good mood.

3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com

>> February 1st, 2006: The Aspiring Thieves

[OOM: Goldilocks and Mary Anne improve relations upstairs last night. Vanilla pudding and combat boots become issues as things progress, but their rather laid back approach turns a little more fiery after an uninvited Endless drops by to bum a smoke. Rated R.]

called_lioness

[OOM: In the stables, Edmund comes across Lucy and Corella. Honesty leads to upset, and a decision is made. Rated W for Why Can I Not Post A Happy Pevensie Family OOM?]