Feb. 7th, 2006

[identity profile] ironside-pixie.livejournal.com
Kaye is seated by the lake, arms folded around herself, fully glamoured. She can still feel it though, the particles of air drifting through her wings, even if she can't see them. There's a slight buzzing in her head and she knows it's because she's only slept in snatches. Every so often she lays the iron edge of a bone-handled knife against her arm, watching it flush an angry red.

[OOC: Beware if tagging, she's barely ate and slept, so she's feeling a bit loony and emo.]
supersymmetry: (Default)
[personal profile] supersymmetry
Winnifred Burkle is vaguely sleepy, but for whatever reason (perhaps too much caffeine, perhaps just because her mun is in the same inexplicable state of complete awareness), she cannot sleep.

As a result, she is grudgingly awake, and attempting to read the latest issue of Popular Science.

She looks rather less interested in the above than she could be. Perhaps it's a boring issue, or perhaps she's just wondering why she still cares about what's going on in her old field of interest back on an Earth that she'd most likely never return to.

Maybe she's just cranky about the insomnia.

Whatever her reasons, she's still Fred, and still wouldn't dream of being rude to anyone who offered their company.
[identity profile] king-emeritus.livejournal.com
Trent had stopped coming to that door in North Xanth. He had a wife he had to tend to, and the version in the bar...

Well. He'd known his wife could be selfish.

But actually stepping into the bar from where he'd been, with his wife youthened to match him, was unexpected to the highest.

He raised both eyebrows in deceptive mildness as he found himself wondering just why he'd come so abruptly. But then, as he saw the notice on the board, he looked up into the rafters. Summoned? He didn't know the Brain Coral obeyed such summonses.
[identity profile] spooky-shrink.livejournal.com
If it seems like ages since Doctor Crowe has been in the bar, well, he's been here, just lurking about. But it's late, there's scotch, and he's been missing the chairs by the fireplace. So now, he's sitting in one.

Scotch is better with company, so feel free to say hi. (Though that does NOT mean he'll be sharing the scotch. Sorry.)
gonna_live: (Default)
[personal profile] gonna_live
[So a couple of days ago, there was this field trip to India, and Kaylee came back exhausted.

Before she collapsed upstairs, she and Simon talked a little.

And the next morning, they talk some more, now that Kaylee's awake. It...could have gone worse? A lot worse?

At least there's coffee at the end.]
[identity profile] wheels-spun.livejournal.com
Multi-pup posts that is...


There's Wheel, sitting by the fire, guised as an elderly lady in peasant's clothing, apparently working with her yarn. She's either spinning it or knitting it. Either way, whatever she's doing, it involves a lot of wool.



Somewhere else is Strength. She's kneeling on a rug, attending to her feline companion, who seems to have developed a sore foot. Likely something got stuck between the toes and Strength is doing her best to remove the object despite the lion's patent reluctance to cooperate.

There are just some things you can't get wild animals to do...



And last but not least, there's a chief of ravens flying about the bar, taking in the sights of all sorts of people milling about. There's no need to worry though: there won't be any unforseen bird-bombs descending your way.

Of course, if you want to talk to him, let him know and he'll visit you.



[I should have it mentioned that although I'm posting an entry for my characters, I am heading for bed in a few minutes. If you don't mind waiting for a response please feel free to tag the character of your choice.

I'll respond as soon as I can.]
[identity profile] astral-brat.livejournal.com
Little Skywalker brat boy creeping into the bar. Is it really early, or really late? WHO CAN TELL.

Whichever it is, he's wide awake, and humming some cantina medley he really shouldn't know as he wanders over to Bar for a chocolate milkshake.

Looking a bit like he's been crawling through the forest back home in search of interesting animals, imitating his cousin.

He's got a twig in his hair.
[identity profile] timsbooks.livejournal.com
Hellspawn drops from the rafters, whistling, and heads over to the notice board.

"WANTED! SOMEONE FROM THE LAND OF XANTH, FOR HELP ONLY SOMEONE FROM THAT REALM CAN GIVE! Please contact Hellspawn, the guy in the mask and tight clothing who seems to live in the rafters."

And then he takes a seat nearby, where he can keep an eye on the sign.
[identity profile] amanda-darieux.livejournal.com
Sitting in front of the fire Amanda holds her cup of tea in hand. Staring into the distance. Really there isn't much else that one can do without some company. So come and chat, she wont bite....well maybe if you ask nicely.
[identity profile] conflictedhero.livejournal.com
Bruce is outside, bundled up and enjoying the cold. He doesn't go out here at Milliways much because, really, he doesn't like nature all that much. he spends enough time outside back on Earth that he enjoys the nice warm inside weather at Milliways. But sometimes, it is just nice to go walking in the cold, and enjoy the scenery. Even if he does have a pad and pen sticking out of pockets for notes and for sudden ideas. You can take the geek out of the lab, but you cant take the lab out of the geek.
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[personal profile] slayer_fray
You'd have to be crazy to go skinny dipping in the lake at the break of dawn at this time of year.

Mel's not known for her sanity.

After the swim, she dries herself off quickly and pulls on her clothes, pulling a relatively new, bright orange sweater over her wet hair. Rubbing her hands together, she sets off at a casual jog in the direction of the woods.
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[personal profile] lvpd_sidle
Sara is down in the bar.

Judging by the empty coffee cups, she has been there a while.

Bother at will.

[ooc: Slowtime at 1pm CST.]
[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
Yesterday was a good-mood kind of day, but that was dissipated before Wells went to bed. At least he managed some sleep, which is more than he could say for the evening before.

We shan't comment on the quality of the sleep, thanks.

For now, at least, he's all right. He's got breakfast, and tea, and a couple of paper targets sized for pistols. Once he's finished with eating, he's heading outside, but for now- tea.
bloodyrockgod: (Default)
[personal profile] bloodyrockgod
When Charlie sits down at the bar, a note pops up along with his morning waffles. He reads it, and sits for a few moments, frowning.

Abruptly he stands and goes out the back door to the lake, leaving his breakfast untouched.
[identity profile] leftthecradle.livejournal.com
Enigmatic bald guy in the bar.

The Ranger is sitting by the fire, peeling an orange. Though, if you look closely, it's kind of hard to tell if he is peeling the fruit or if his fingers are simply guiding the orange as it opens its skin for him.

He'll be glad to share, however.
[identity profile] narfed-pinky.livejournal.com
White lab rat.

Genetically altered.

Swinging by a thread.

Dressed up as Robin...

...

Only in Milliways...


[ooc: Slowtime when needed]
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_estsanatlehi_/
Estsanatlehi was over by the fire once more, with a larger flock of fuzzy, brightly colored chicks, some solid colors, some patterns, stripes and polka dots mostly, though there were a few that were more involved, spirials and one that had a star on its belly, another with a thunderbolt down its back. There was also a duck. The duck was green and sitting in her lap. She had them all barricaded in, using herself on one side, and pillows on the other so that they wouldn't get in anyone's way.

Jane was at the bar, enjoying a lunch that wasn't a cheeseburger for once, but instead was sushi, which she was eating quite deftly with chopsticks, glancing around the bar on occasion. Since arriving she'd lost some of her paranoid edge, and oddly, she didn't miss it, really she looked happier than she had when they'd first arrived, even though, or because, she knew what was on the other side of the door.

The Twins had finished with the polar bear puzzle Bar had given them the day before, and were currently seated in a booth working on one that depicted a lovely island view, palm tree, surfboards, the works. They were also watching the bar over each other's shoulders, just in case.

Clive was over near the Window, headphones on, feet propped up on a table, doodling and alternately watching the show outside, and the show inside. There was a basket of paradoxes on the table as well, but they were mostly untouched.
[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com
(OOM: Ace has a busy time of it. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe she dreamed it.)

Ace is at a table, with pizza, and rootbeer. Why pizza? Just seems like the day for it, is all. She also has a very dirty bit of machinery on the table as well, on a dropcloth so as not to get oil everywhere. She's busy studying it, looking for now, though she'll probably be at it with tools once her lunch is finished.

It's not a very interesting-looking thing. Mostly metallic, roughly square-shaped, with trailing wires. Ace certainly seems facinated.



(ooc: Time for lab, so I'm off for possibly as short as two hours, or as long as four. Depending. Fun times.)
[identity profile] mop-jockey.livejournal.com
Bar's like Mom, really. She always gives you what you need and sometimes what you want. Lately, seems Bar has been trying to steer Lenny away from cold leftovers.

"I just don't like making you work so much is all." He pats her and takes the hot plate of noodles and wanders around a bit, checking out who's around before settling on a table close by Bar.

Catch him for a chat, before or after he finds his seat.
[identity profile] tweak-ears.livejournal.com
Inuyasha hasn't had a good or a bad day for a long time until now, as his thoughts wonder around in his head. The thoughts of his brother and Kagome and everyone else that is in his life, as time draws in and captures him in the web of life. His mind might not be clear but his body is fast and quick as he goes to a table in the back and takes a rest.
[identity profile] csi-catherine.livejournal.com
The CSI quotient in the bar goes up to two, now.

Catherine sitting in a booth, nursing an orange juice, looking like marriage suits her. Come bother.



[ooc: Mun begs slowtime for class, offers apologies and snogging to all. Be back around four or five-ish.]
[personal profile] iustus_rex
Alas, poor Edmund, I knew him well--

Wait, sorry, wrong entrance post.


There's a reason, as Edmund sidles into Milliways from the House of Arch, that he's, well. Sidling, for one thing. Looking remarkably as though he doesn't want to be seen, for another.

Of course, no matter how many years a man might spend learning to move silently through a forest, without disturbing any of the native life, it's... really not the same sort of environment, inside a restaurant or bar, now is it?

So perhaps that's the reason that every time he tries to be quiet and still and invisible, he's really just making more of a quiet sort of spectacle of himself.

This is probably not, in fact, his goal.

The end result, however, is an Edmund with quite a lot of tea, and also no doubt quite a lot more attention than he'd meant to draw.
[identity profile] how-pathetic.livejournal.com
Sesshoumaru is a wondering fool to many people that look at him, as he teleports from this world to the next. His besy schedule hasn't been so easy on him, as he finally gets a break from everything back in his time period. He is calm and relaxed as he enters the bar and wonders to it, ordering a glass of wine. He takes his time, as he his eyes wonder and he spots Amanda. He doesn't do any rash as he sends her a glass of wine to her.
[identity profile] crazy-swale.livejournal.com
It's always a strange thing, to worldgate unexpectedly.

Stranger, perhaps, when it isn't a worldgate at all -- and if anyone's going to be familiar with them, the man who enters Milliways just now is surely the second-best -- but just the front door, opening to the wrong location.

And that's not entirely unusual, maybe, to have a door open somewhere other than where it's supposed to, except that again it's not very often that the door apparently chooses for itself.

Be that as it may, aside from a few blinks the man who just entered (whose player will, someday, find the story as to why his nickname was "Old Crazy Swale" at the start of his canon) doesn't actually look terribly surprised at all to find himself here, and makes his way over to ask Bar for several rolls of duct tape.

"Entirely as a precautionary measure, of course," he explains.
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[personal profile] latino_menace
Ramon's outside, having comandeered Arithon's horse for the morning. He's practicing riding with his sword, getting the feel of using it while mounted and swiping at imaginary targets to test the boundaries of balance.

Mostly though, he's just having fun careening about the place and hitting at things. If you're going to approach, give fair warning in case he doesn't rein himself in in time, yeah?
[identity profile] jackdriscoll.livejournal.com
[ Last night, Jack and Mary Anne had a talk. Still slowtimed. ]

The writer walks down to the bar, hat and coat in hand. He walks intently to the door until he stops mid-way, blinking and stunned. The door isn't there. A second later, his re-Bound status dawning on him, Jakc throws his hands up and groans, turns to the bar and tries to order a stiff drink.



Minutes later he's skulking in a dark booth with a cup of hot chocolate. Maybe it's for the best, but he's not over the moon about the bar mothering him right now.
[identity profile] princessjosiane.livejournal.com
Josiane is not moping. Princesses do not mope. They drink. That is what Josiane is doing.
[identity profile] bohemian-mark.livejournal.com
Mark is in the bar.

Oh. You want more detail? Fine. Mark is at a table in the bar, with a textbook, a script, a camera, three pens of various sorts, a messenger bag, and a pot of coffee, with requisite cup. His attention, however, is not drawn to any of those things. He seems to be pale-y gaping at a piece of paper. In fact, he has been doing this for the past fifteen minutes.

Perhaps someone should cut in.
[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
Continued from here.

The back door of the Bar opens, and Sergeant Wells heads out into the Scottish February with only a bit of a grimace at the mucky weather. At least he managed to secure a decent bit of winter kit for it, he figures. He spares the forest only a glance, instead heading for an area he's already picked out; it's away from the Bar itself, not to mention the stables, and it's relatively flat and grassy. In truth he'd selected the region because it would make a good football pitch. The important thing, though, was that he'd stashed a couple of good stout sticks there- the ones he uses to mark the goal zone when he's practicing. One stick receives the honour of being hammered into the dirt and having a pistol tournament target attached to it.

He looks over his shoulder at his companion. "I dunno what sort of targets you lot use with those blasters of yours, but the closer I get to the center, the higher my score," he says.
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[personal profile] no_justice
The horse is white. The rider wears black.

They appear from... well, it's not obivous where they appear from. It would be nice to give a long and graphic description of rends in the fabric of reality, with blue sparks and smoke and big crashing chords, and lots and lots of adjectives.

But that's not that case. They just trot down from somewhere that isn't here, and arrive in the stableyard. There's a few seconds in which the horse's feathered hooves appears to be at a spot somewhere a couple of inches below the ground, but he soon remembers where he's supposed to be.

The rider dismounts expertly, patting the horse's steaming flank with the experienced affection of someone who has been riding the same horse for centuries
[identity profile] mahtigwess.livejournal.com
There's a bunny.

Don't you worry none, though, 'cause he ain't one've them demon bunnies from out back, no.

Ain't nothin' like that.

Jus' a normal-lookin' bunny, for th'most part.

O'course, there's the bit where he's sittin' an' nibblin' at th'leg've your trousers, but I reckon that's just a popular misconception regardin' property rights an' suchlike.
[identity profile] rebel-falcon.livejournal.com
There's a Han Solo.

Without a vest on.

This is because the vest is being held in his hands, stretched out between forearms, and on it? Are little birds. They may be alive or dead. Han looks kinda sheepish.

Also, there is a shameless abuse of Millitime happening here, for the sharp-eyed!
[identity profile] killer-bride.livejournal.com
As new icons are quite commong among Beatrix's mun's pups, there is certainly no reason for Beatrix to be in the bar simply to show off new icons. She's here because she's getting a tad restless, wondering how, exactly, she's going to pay for her roaring rampage of revenge. She hasn't spoken to Alanna yet and she's not exactly proud of that fact.

So she's at the bar, sipping at a glass of water and eating a chicken ceasar salad, thinking.
alwaysroomforhope: (Default)
[personal profile] alwaysroomforhope
And a Steph. In civvies, in an armchair by the fire, with a book. Well - mostly in an armchair. There're limbs hanging out everywhere, but Steph does that. And the book? She's so not paying attention to it. Who would, when there's all these interesting bar-people to look at instead?
[identity profile] banished-to.livejournal.com
Hel enters the bar, brushing slush off her boots before she heads for the fire. She's had a lot to think of lately.

Most of it hasn't made her smile, but she's done a lot of thinking.
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[personal profile] kitchen_maid
Amy is out in the stables, resting her chin on her hands and her hands on the top of a stall door.

Amy can't actually see the occupant of the stall. She's not even entirely certain that the thestral is there.

This has not kept her from keeping up a cheerful and dizzying monologue with him for the last twenty or so minutes. Just in case.

She would also be happy to talk to someone she could see, should anyone happen along.
[identity profile] somnium-sum.livejournal.com
[Out of Milliways, he learns to hate the smell of apples.]
[identity profile] anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com
Anthy is at the bar, sipping a purple berry soda; her feet dangle, and every now and then, very carefully, she swings one.

A magazine is spread on the bar in front of her, and she's poring over glossy color photographs of rosebushes.
[identity profile] oldromansaint.livejournal.com
[OOM:Post this, Santino and Jack have an outing.]

Santino entered the bar with his usual flair, dressed up to the nines in standard Rocker gear. Black leather pants, jacket and deliberately regular black leather shoes. He must have multiple pairs of this gettup, or doesn't wash his clothes.

Come and find out.
alwaysroomforhope: (Default)
[personal profile] alwaysroomforhope
Now there is a Steph outside, by the lake - well, the small part of it that's not iced over, anyway.

She is in a bathing costume and carrying a towel.

She is quite possibly insane. But that's okay. Nobody minds, do they?
[identity profile] not-like-lilly.livejournal.com
Petunia is at a table in the bar, knitting. The blanket's getting larger, and she isn't getting any more social, so those wishing to chat will likely be best to approach her.
[identity profile] dragonofgrey.livejournal.com
Draco slowly woke up on the couch. He felt a lot better. There were dreams, but peaceful ones, sometimes he was flying. Othertimes, he seemed to be low to the ground, almost like a ferret, but this was different somehow.
The voices were slowly emerging, but as a distant annoying buzz. He eyed the way to the infirmary. No, sod that place. He was tired of it. And this couch seemed comfortable. And the waitrats could bring him something here. He sat, keeping the blanket around him, and watched the flames in the fireplace idly. He found focusing on them kept the voices quiet, and miniscule.

(ooc: warning, he's not as breaky, and insane, but still borderline so have care with taggage. Also the mun will be in and out some for dinner and such. Feel free to tag anyway)
princeinexile: (Default)
[personal profile] princeinexile
Prince in the bar.

With books on guns. Music has been forgotten today; alas, he is born to a warrior people.

Seats empty in the booth, and he seems, for a change, relaxed. He has a full ea pot, ginseng tea. Sure to stimulate the mind. Muhc like conversation would.

Come stimulate.
[identity profile] not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com
You can't see Castle. He is invisible like a ninja.

...Okay, no, he's not. He's in plain sight in a booth with a drink and a tabby cat curled up next to him.

Bother at will.
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[personal profile] guppy_sandhu
[oom: Room 147: Guppy continues to fight the physical and mental symptoms]

The frozen lake is inviting, but having fallen in last time Guppy decides it isn't worth the risk. It is only likely to be milder now. Instead he runs for a while around the lake, occasionally feigning a trip so that he can practice his rolls.
In his physically weakened state, he is soon tired and rests at the lakeside near the bar.
[identity profile] jedizekk.livejournal.com
Zekk's sitting at a booth in the back, playing - rather nervously, the mun might add - with a stuffed monkey lizard - he got from Bar moments earlier. Every now and then, his head darts upward and glances around the room, as if searching for someone.

Really, he's not enjoying this waiting thing at all.
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[personal profile] boundxkitty
Out by the lake, there's a large black leopard lounging on the shore. For anyone with the nose for it, the smell of blood is in the air, because she's been feeding. For those that don't have the nose for it, the carcass of something small and furry, though not a demon bunny, is sitting closer to the trees. And, like any decent feline after a feeding, she looks content. Enough so, that she's completely safe to come examine or talk to.

Poke the leopard! It's fun. Like petting a cat...only bigger.

[ooc: mun had to go to class, but shall return after. Slowtime = love is back]
clumsy_auror: (Default)
[personal profile] clumsy_auror
[ooc: Amy and Meg drop by to meet the baby, and share the fruits of the Kitchen Party. Millitimed to last week.]
[identity profile] gorlim.livejournal.com
It is possible that Gorlim has decided to take up a hobby. It is possible that hobby is knitting. It's hard to tell by the look of what he's doing, though. It looks a bit like some complex origami version of cat's cradle with chopsticks. Also a spoon has gotten tangled up in it somehow.

He's still managing to drink while doing this. He is apparently not bad at doing things while tied up. It's the tying he's having issues with.

[ooc: Mun is here for a half hour, then must go to class, but will be back about... er... four hours afterwards. o.o Yes, it's a late class.]
[identity profile] bothbutneither.livejournal.com
Gren walks in from outside: long duster on, saxophone in hand. He's been out serenading the lake, despite the cold.

He likes how it sounds out there. Outside always has different acoustics from anywhere else. Sometimes the wind takes the sound, carries it away like some precious cargo. Other times it wraps it around him like a blanket: not smothering, just comforting.

Tonight it was a combination of both. The stars overhead twinkled in a way he'd never seen before, and he doesn't think that was just death playing tricks on him with her brilliance and enhanced senses.

It was nice to play. He's never needed an audience to enjoy making music.
[identity profile] giftedthom.livejournal.com
*Thom is seated at a table, looking fixedly at the front door.

As if he is waiting for something.*
slayer_fray: (Mel/Lilly)
[personal profile] slayer_fray
Mel is in a booth with a pizza.

...what you want more? Rut off, I'm tired.
[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com
It is well known that the couch by the fireplace is infernally comfortable. So, perhaps, it is not entirely Ace's fault that she has fallen asleep on it?

So. One smallish British pyro, in the oversized patch-adorned bomber's jacket, in stocking feet, asleep on the couch, her boots neatly tucked underneath, the cup of tea she had gotten to keep herself awake going cold on the sidetable.

Awwww.

She's so cute.
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[personal profile] venusadept_2
I think you know the drill by now:

There's a Felix with new icons.

He's not very friendly.

It's your choice what to do, but I'd suggest avoiding him.
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[personal profile] shelley_winters
The door opens from a corridor of the palace of Antar, and in wanders a small redheaded figure.

It has been a few weeks for Shelley, and she knows she has to get used to it again. So after collecting a cup of hot chocolate, she makes her way to an armchair and curls up to watch the bar go by.
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[personal profile] namo
[OOM: In Room 144, Námo and Lee have a quiet, schmoopy moment.]
[identity profile] medicine-bird.livejournal.com
Over on a sofa by the fireplace, a Jean:

She's got a chess board set up, and seems to be playing both sides.

There's a bit of unconscious favouritism in play, as white seems to be winning.

Care to make the game more even?
[identity profile] ms-w-harker.livejournal.com
Mina glides downstairs again tonight. First time in a while she's chosen to be in public two nights in a row.

Again, she's looking for someone. Are you the one?
[identity profile] shang-dragon.livejournal.com
Liam's sitting by the bar drinking a cup of tea and keeping a eye on the patrons.

Is he on duty? I laugh at you. Try finding a time when he considers himself off duty.
[identity profile] cellist-dana.livejournal.com
Peter had been busy with the current case for a couple of days now, and Dana was getting a bit worried. He and Ray were both involved on it, and Egon was monitoring. She just hoped everything turned out all right for all of them.
She had some hot milk with chocolate flavoring, and a light dinner. Mostly eating just because of pregnant with bebe, but she didn't have much appetite otherwise.
[identity profile] singlesoledjest.livejournal.com
Mercutio has just come in from the biting cold outside, and his cheeks are flushed and his hands stiff. He's drinking mulled wine in a corner.
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[personal profile] scapepig
Snowball has the clock book out again. He's making notes and calculations on a sheet of paper next to him, writing with a finely sharpened pencil stuck between his trotters with tissue.
His charcoal broke.
[identity profile] transgenic-max.livejournal.com
It isn't uncommon to see Max curled up in a booth with a book in hand. Whether she ever actually reads them, or just uses them as a prop for her people-watching, is anyone's guess. However, it's usually mythology, or occasionally straight fiction.

Child psychology is new and strange territory. And she does seem to actually be paying attention to the book.

Which isn't to say she isn't paying attention to anything else. She's good at multitasking.

So, yes. X5. Booth. Coffee. Strange reading material. Dare to ask why?
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[personal profile] the_seafarer
Caspian (also known as Joe, in some circles) (where by "some circles" we mean Sunny), is sitting by the fire whistling absent-mindedly, a closed book nearby and a pot of tea.

Too much tea for one person, really, and shockingly, he doesn't seem inclined to drink any just yet. This must mean some great inner turmoil of mind!

Or perhaps he simply isn't thirsty.
[identity profile] maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com
Elaine comes downstairs. Walking over to the bar, she spies a tray.

She picks it up, thereby starting her shift.

Barmaid on duty.

Exit

Feb. 7th, 2006 09:28 pm
[identity profile] bedside-manners.livejournal.com
[OOM: Janet can still see the door.]

Open the door, open the door, open the door, open the door...

That was all that had been going through Janet's mind lately. She couldn't ignore it as much as she tried, still half wanting to hear Cassie's voice repeat those same words over and over.

She walks downstairs, stepping in time along with the words that wouldn't disappear, thinking about the door that wouldn't disappear either.

She stops abruptly at the foot of the stairs, looking across the bar, through the crowd of patrons.

Open the door...

Without warning, the words stop and Janet is heading for the door.

This is pointless, there's nothing on the other side of it, she thinks. But Janet is curious, and if it will stop the dreams, she'll do it.

Janet faces the door, staring at it, her hand hovering over the handle. She closes her eyes for a moment, opens them, and turns the handle.

She doesn't know why she's not surprised to see an event horizon instead of a blank wall, but the familiar sight is comforting.

She also doesn't know where she'll end up and doesn't wonder how there's an event horizon without a Stargate, but none of that matters.

The only thing on Janet's mind now is that her daughter is on the other side. "Cassie."

For the first time since her arrival, Janet is able to leave. She steps through.
[identity profile] never-mourned.livejournal.com
Elphaba is quite possibly avoiding Glinda still.

She said they'd talk about--that.

She didn't say she'd make it easy.

The book from Eddie is placed with a note that's brief and to the point--very brief, consisting about of Thank you. -Elphaba and nothing else--on Bar.

Who is still giving her the five times damned parenting books.

"This," she informs the counter, "is getting ridiculous."

But since there's not a hell of a lot she can do about it, she takes the book and a glass of wine and settles on a couch.
mnt_raph: (Default)
[personal profile] mnt_raph
*Better living through breweries.
Raph is at the bar nursing one of Sam Adams Brewing Company's finest.
Mmm. Beer.*
withamagicword: (Default)
[personal profile] withamagicword
Billy sits in a booth, tapping at a laptop again. He is humming along to some music playing quietly on the laptop, Steven Curtis Chapman's Bring it On. He is working on homework and pondering a chocolate shake. But he is most definitely disturbable.
[identity profile] just-a-soldier.livejournal.com
Oblivious. That's the word for someone who is completely unaware that fate, or a certain doctor, has already decided something that will cause immense doom and possible sadness. And right now it suited Aeryn Sun perfectly. Mostly because that's what she was, leaning against a sturdy tree, half-smiling.

It wasn't due to anybody, she was just happier than usual. So she let the wind pick at bits of her hair and breathed deeply, savouring it while it lasted.

[OOC: Locked to the evil Doctor Jack, say sorry. However, there will be an entrance post later...hopefully :P]
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[personal profile] guppy_sandhu
There is intense concentration radiating from one area of the bar. Two medics. One table. Covered with sticks of different colours.

Abs is watching intently as Guppy is removing one of the sticks (a pink one) whilst trying not to move any of the others.

The slightest breeze, sneeze or jarring of the table and the pile is going to wobble.

Re-Entrance

Feb. 7th, 2006 10:02 pm
[identity profile] spin-a-web.livejournal.com
When the Door opens, Peter Parker comes stumbling through, losing his balance and his booksack, and landing on the floor. As he pushes himself up, he glances around and almost falls back down again.

At first he doesn't remember Milliways, but the memory starts coming back through and he nods, slowly, glancing around.

Weird. After his last entrance, and then no Door for so long, he hadn't thought he would ever see the place again. But here he is.

Well.

Might as well sit for a minute. Time had stopped for him the last time he had come through the Door, so, hopefully it would again. He glances at it then nods and walks forward.

Welcome back to Milliways, Peter Parker.



(ooc: as mentioned in backroom post, pup under new management. He will remember previous entrance, but vaguely.)
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[personal profile] kitchen_maid
Amy, over by the fire, curled up in her usual spot and drinking her usual tea.

Nothing unusual about that at all, really.

She's welcome company, if anyone else is looking for a nice warm cheerful spot to sit for a while.

And there's nothing unusual about that either.
[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
Sergeant Wells has not had the best of days today,b ut at least he got to shoot stuff. That's alway s something of a balm to his nerves- not so much because of the shooting itself as because it means he's doing something he knows inside and out.

That's over for now, though. He's settled in at one of the tables with some kind of soup and bread and a pint. Could probably do with some company, the way things look at the moment.
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[personal profile] oneman_onevote
[OOM: Millitimed to AGES AGO, OMG, Havelock Vetinari gives Nita Callahan a brief knife-fighting lesson as part of her Christmas present.]
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[personal profile] cywyllog
The boys are tired. They'll be asleep in a few minutes, Cywyllog knows, so it has to be now. She herds them to the bar, lifts them each on a stool and then places a few bags on the bar's surface. One bag is emptied, and as usual, everything that can be returned to the bar is. As well, a small pouch of coins is given to cover the tab.

Cywyllog hesitates as she opens the second bag. "I cannot take this with us, so if you would not mind keeping this for me?" Slowly, the boys newly acquired toys are placed on the bar's surface in two piles. Their stuffed fish from Raven, their buffalo from Changing Woman, the crowns from Megan, and lastly, the carved foxes from Mordred. Those had been the hardest to try and explain to the twins why they have to be left behind. The toys disappear, and she breathes a small sigh of relief.

Melou is lifted off his stool and down to the floor, then Cywyllog takes Melehan in her arms. She hesitates, wondering if she should leave a note for anyone, but assumes she'll be back at some point. Finally, they make their way to the door. "It is your door, anwylyd," she kisses Melehan's cheek, "you have to open it."

He does, and the three of them walk through, the door closing firmly behind them.