milliways_bar | Feb. 9th, 2006

Feb. 9th, 2006

judo-rachel.livejournal.com

Rachel Moore seems to be giddy as she reads the letter in her hand as she stands outside of the locked door of the Moore Detective Agency's business office. Her other hand holding onto the little hand of a boy named Conan Edogawa, who just looks up at her like she's lost her mind.

Her smile grows wide as she reads the letter's neat and precise handwriting, before she presses the letter to her chest with a delighted laugh. "It's a letter from Jimmy, Conan! He actually wrote me!" she laughs again.

Rachel frees her hand from Conan's as she takes her key and unlocks the Agency's door. Blinking as her mouth opens in shock. Through the doorway is not her father's business office, but what looks to be a pub of some sort.

Rachel Moore. Meet Milliways...

(OOC: Double-post, tags open to both Rachel and Conan, or both)

seker-pride.livejournal.com

[OOM: Strahan's first night in Amanda's world. Not a lot happens - even the potentially leading-to-something-suggestive-and-explicit disrobing of Strahan doesn't lead to anything other than fluffy cuteness in the form of a small furry red panda.

But it is cute.

And fluffy.

[Millitimed to ... well, before Amanda's and Strahan's return to the bar, which apparently does not have a specific date to it.]]

Current Mood: cute

myladyrhiannon.livejournal.com

[OOM: (After nearly two months' wait, Rhiannon's solo!plotline moves along.) Rhiannon and Teirnan meet Keely in the forest, confront her, and Rhiannon plants a subliminal message in Keely's mind telling the hapless princess about "the thing she must do".]

Current Mood: predatory

maydaybrat.livejournal.com

[oom: After playing his not'sons one last time, Mordred has a vision of his past death, and their future murder. Millitimed to the 5th]

eldorne-girl.livejournal.com

[ordinarily, Delia is really not a morning person. Today, however, she's been up for a while, so she actually looks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to...]

[well, you know. Flirt and annoy people. Also, look for and apologize to her girlfriend for kicking her out for Thom's sake. That's fairly high on the list, too]

[not that she'd say no to flirting before she finds her, though. Delia, after all, will be Delia]

bloodandnicotine

Spike stalks up to the door, a smug smile on his face. A backpack filled with goodies from Bar is thrown over his shoulder, presents for Angel and the gang.

"Well, see y'all later. God, I hope so."

And he turns for the door. But you can catch him, if y'ant too.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

So he's got them both, right? Sitting right there in front of him. Iron box with reverse wood in, several different types thanks to Sherlock, and flask with lethe water, direct from the nymph.

Carefully, very carefully, Tim unscrews the lid from the box. With rubber gloves on, he slides his hands into the box, drawing forth what looks for all the world like a drink stirrer wrapped in paper. That is set carefully on the table.

Then, equally as carefully, the canteen is opened, and a dollop is poured into a shot glass. Recapped, set aside with the box.

Hands near to shaking, Tim lifts the wood stick and sets it in the water. He's expecting something, some kind of change... but no, it still looks the exact same.

And so now he's sitting there, staring at the shot glass, trying to decide if he wants to do this. He wouldn't mind company.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

When the door opens there is a glimpse into a dark alley. There are fires burning in strange shapes that are slowly dying down and there is a body lying on the pavement, it's head is about half a foot away from the body. In staggers Amanda, bloodied blade in hand.

She falls into the nearest chair. Waving down a wait-rat for a rag and a scotch.

[OOC: This is NOT a plot. Just an entrance. Anyone can feel free to tag.]

virii-twins.livejournal.com

The twins were outside sparring again, in the matching track suit-type-things from before. They weren't using swords today but were fighting hand-to-hand, only ghosting occasionally, both smirking faintly.

They were having a good time. Apparently smacking your siblings around was one of those pan-uneversal amusements. The snow wasn't quite as churned up as it would have been were they using swords, but they also hadn't been outside too long yet.

Go, watch, oogle, interupt, throw snowballs, whatever.

(stupid demanding pups, I'm off to work now, couple hours slowtime eminent, followed by patchy tags while there, but g'head and tag if that works for you and/or you don't mind slowtime.)

withamagicword

A bouncy Billy descends the stairs and slides onto a stool at the Bar. He has his laptop and settles it securely and then orders breakfast.

When the large platter appears, he digs in with a grin. Yes, that much food really is disappearing that fast.

But he is interruptable and wouldnt mind saying hello.

jedipilot.livejournal.com

Jaina takes a sip of her hot chocolate and turns the page of the book resting on the table top in front of her. She leans back in the booth seat as she continues to read.

It's not the most interesting of material to the Jedi, but a bet's a bet and Jaina's determined to win it. Because, losing to Wes Janson? It's a scary idea. So, Jaina, book, and page 155: the tango.

Although, every now and then, she skips around in the chapters, looking for some other strange Earth dance she may be able to teach her husband later.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Random of Amber is awake. Awake, damnit. At this hour in the morning. It's obscene.

However, the coffee he's holding provides a lifeline to sanity, which he desperately needs.

Feel free to stop by and see the slow transformation from up-early-Amberite to very-seldomly-omicidal bar patron. Odds are if you let him get through half a cup, he'll be safe to talk to.

elrond-healer.livejournal.com

Elrond sits near the fire, studying a book on Earth herbs as related to medicinal uses. He glances about sometimes as he sips some Earth style rosemary tea, an affectation he has found a fondness for. At his side are several other books in various lanbguages from various worlds, on herbs and plants. While he reads, he hums an ancient Edhel melody, the tune quiet but true-noted.

cywyllog

[OOM: Back home, life continues as normal for Cywyllog and the twins.]

attic-girl.livejournal.com

Fuchsia has ventured downstairs this morning and settled in what she thinks of as her usual spot. Not that she's here often enough for it to be usual. Regardless, she's curled up in a chair, watching the stars.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

If there were dreams last night, Wells has forgotten them; he slept, yeah, and he woke, and by the time he was awake enough to think straight the dreams had gone. He doesn't mind. It's more than he'd expected, to have a night where he didn't wake feeling more ill-used than before.

But there's a feeling of wariness that he can't seem to shake this morning, and a sense that something is coming. So today Sergeant Wells is putting off breakfast for a bit, and going outside instead. One day, soon or late, he's going to open the front door and step through. On that day he's going to need to move fast, and every day of his life thereafter, if he's not to wind up a sample on some biologist's table somewhere in the MoD.

So today, Harry Wells is teaching himself to run.

Not the run for fitness that so many of the Bound and the other patrons undertake. Not the run for endurance that the more dedicated ones are after. This is the sort of run that men of Harry's age have mostly given up, because neither muscle nor ligament nor tendon nor bone likes the thought of it any more. This is the sort where you crouch down in the blocks, still as silence, and the world narrows down to a fistful of muscle fibers and the ground ahead of you. Then- oh, then, then something smacks you in the back of the brain, down where the reflexes happen without the thinking mind getting involved, and for ten seconds there's nothing in the world at all but the next step, one after another after another.

It hurts. It hurts like fuck. He's past forty and his muscles never saw this coming. He can feel things tear when he does it. There's acids and things rising in the blood to burn in protest at the lack of oxygen- oh, it hurts all right. But that's nothing new, he's hurt like that before- and anyway, that's healing, twice as fast as it ever did before and all on its own. He can injure himself, yeah. But the condition won't let him fuck his legs up permanently, not like this; so as long as he's got it, he might as well put it where it belongs. Under his thumb, where he can use it.

One hundred yards and ten seconds at a time, over and over again, Harry Wells runs.

[OOC: I don't have a high likelihood of AIM today, I fear. Email's best if you need to ask a question or arrange something.]

flowerofsteel.livejournal.com

Eowyn is not the sort to wait for a practitioner's permission.

Which is why she is leaning in the doorway of the infirmary, looking at the bar, her left arm in a sling and her right still slightly limp. She looks pale, and is garbed only in her tunic and leggings, which are not proper clothes for a woman of noble blood at all - but boredom overpowers propriety, especially when one is in a place such as this.

Eowyn lifts her right arm, weakly, and leans upon the tables and chairs as she makes her way to the bar, looking around at the patrons as she does so.

inquisitivehero

Hank comes in through the Door and heads straight to Bar. he sits down and orders a large coffee and shakes his head. SOme days the students at Xavier's can be truly inspired in their mayhem. After a few minutes of soothing sipping of his coffee, he pulls out his rather odd looking laptop and starts tapping away at the shiny.

i-hate-brownies.livejournal.com

A clatter arises from behind the bar, followed by silence.

Then a pair of mouse ears peek over the edge, followed by the wide eyed face of Rool.

"I don't think anybody heard us..."

royal-guarantor.livejournal.com

Roshaun comes downstairs and heads for the Bar.

Even perched on a barstool with a lollipop in his mouth, he still manages to look like a king.

He won't turn away company.

guppy_sandhu

Outside where the air is quite nippy and bitter,
A curly-haired doctor is trying to get fitter.
First he was running, hair blowing in breeze,
His stamina good as a sloth with a wheeze.
So now he is rolling, he's quite good at those,
Being skinny, quite graceful and light on his toes.
Forwards and backwards on snow and on grass,
Occasional slipping to fall on his arse.

With quiet persistance he mends his mistakes,
Though his fingers are cold and his arm rather aches.
He cartwheels on both sides his cheeks all aglow,
His side rolls result in a facefull of snow.
On a bench clear of frost the black cat sits and watches,
This most strange behaviour, successful and botches.
Do not fear approach, come grasp at this chance,
To see Guppy in this extraordinary dance.

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin's around, if anyone wants him, either for infirmary business or just to talk.

He'll be happy to chat, whether you know him yet or not.

stopped-signal.livejournal.com

Mr. Universe is still sitting at the same table as last night, hunched over his laptop.

He seems to be designing some kind of tutorial.

knight-sparhawk.livejournal.com

The Door opens and snow swirls beyond it for a moment before Sir Sparhawk, on Faran, rides through.

The horse stops almost immediately, and stares around at the Bar as if startled. Sparhawk, bent over to avoid the snow, looks up and then groans as he glances back at the vanished Door. memory floods into him and he sighs as he slips off the horse.

"Milliways."

It is spoken as one half oath, one half prayer and the look Sparhawk casts around is both gladness he is there and sadness and despair.

"We're back."

Faran makes a noise, and there is a definite sense of 'well, naturally', to his tone. Sparhawk grins at his horse then nods towards the back Door.

"Come on, we had better get you settled. No telling how long we will be here this time. Of all the times, now the Bar had to pick us out and snatch us in. I hope it is ready to deal with Bhelliom..."

And Sparhawk leads Faran out into the back.

Minutes later, he is back, brushing snow off of him before he comes in and he settles onto a barstool for a few moments, clad in solid black platemail and his cloak, armor that shines darkly.

"Bar, Ale please."

The drinks appears and Sparhawk takes it gladly.

Anakha is back in the Bar.

gentleprince.livejournal.com

Based on the theory that you can never have too many Tolkien sorts in the bar, especially one after the other, Faramir is Millitiming about at some point BEFORE Eowyn's entrance (to make things easier for everyone concerned) with a book and a quill pen stuck behind his ear in his thick hair.

The Prince is friendly and never averse to company, especially if you like telling stories.

gris_bug_man

Grissom inna bar, letting his husband take their daughter for the day.

He's busily working on his paperwork, blissfully unaware that canon-induced DOOM may be approaching. Then again, it may not be.

Bother at will.

95-tan.livejournal.com

There's an OS in the bar.

She's drinking tea and being cheerful.

So, overall, not a whole lot going on that's out of the ordinary.

Yeehaw.

Current Mood: calm

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Still about, we have a Random.

Procrastinating?

Maybe.

Anyhow, he's reading a book under the table. As in the book is under the table, not him.

mommywitch.livejournal.com

So. Piper's in the bar.

And mun is not feeling original.

What a terrific day in the bar it is.

[OOC: This is the "please, please please bug Piper post!" So, um. Despite unoriginality of the mun, please do.]

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda comes down and puts something on the bar with a

( Note )

They disapear into Bar.

"Thank you."

And Amanda heads back up to her room.

somnium-sum.livejournal.com

Bone-white, shadow-grey, Roiben's sitting at a table with his boots kicked up on an opposing chair. Lounging, with his head tilted back so he can study the rafters. On the table is a bowl full of purple-red cherries, and a couple of poetry books opened and forgotten.

[ooc: And I need to flee! Slowtimes are good times.]

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah the young superhero
Was counting from thirty to zero
If she were asked: 'why?'
She'd likely reply, 'because hiccups are fun, only not though.'

There was an Alzarian boy
Who took quite a serious joy
(bordering on fanatical)
In all things mathematical
And saw numbers just as a toy

There was an assassin named Jane
Who usually ate sushi plain
'Til one day the Bar
Gave her sushi bizarre
On a plate that was shaped like a train.

There was a young Gothboi named Clive
Who was happy just being alive
He had notebook and pen
Ice cream soda and then
A bak-ed potato with chive

An ancient Earth Goddess called Ana,
Made lots of things out of manna
She could change age at will
Younger then older until
She looked like somebody's gran'mama

There were two men white as snow
Identical twins don'cha know
They sparred day and night
In darkness and light
But now were doing a puzzle quite slow

Anoia the spoon-giving Goddess
Had never been seen in a bodice
Her usual attire
Was a little less dire
But better that dress than a codpi'ce

(This entrance post brought to you by GoGirl brand energy drinks and insane levels of boredom at work with no 'net access.)

venusadept_2

Here's what seems to be becoming a too-familiar sight: Felix is glaring at the world around him.

Tonight he's outside, leaning against the outer wall.

[OOC: If you don't want your pup snarled at, don't bring them here.]

beauty-marred.livejournal.com

Draco continues to improve, and so, Narcissa is relaxed for probably the first time since she arrived.

Currently, she is sitting at a table, still near the infirmary just in case, picking at a fruit plate and drinking tea. And watching the other people. She needs to start paying more attention to her surroundings, and those in it.

ways-lust.livejournal.com

There is an Emotion in the bar. It's also Sin.

Guess who? Or perhaps that should be, 'Guess what?'

twiststheblade

The evil has been sown - having spent some time teaching Fuschia to blow smoke rings, Miho is now seeing just how many things she can do with smoke. There seems to be. . . much more Fun (yes, with a capital 'F'), in the Bar. So she is blowing a series of rings to make bullseyes, and skewerig them with streams of smoke. She might try for hearts next, but maybe that's a bit out of her league.

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

Eddie is behind the bar again tonight, not for Happy Hour, but working on some administrative stuff. The bar doesn't entirely run itself. He's keeping an eye on the room as he does, though, and it's very rare that he's not up for conversation, even if you aren't the guy he's looking for.

i_vanquish_evil

This is what Van Helsing looks like when he's walking down the stairs, tugging on his shirt after a long, hot shower - something he doesn't get so often when he's home, so he takes advantage of it when he's at Milliways.

queens-darkness.livejournal.com

Far apart from each other, so the mun's head won't explode, but any are taggable. =)

Elizabeth is lounging full out on a couch by the fire again tonight. There's a bowl of chocolate covered popcorn sitting on the floor within reachable distance, so she doesn't, you know, have to actually get up to eat it. There's also a coke sitting next to the bowl. Come poke the lazy leopard.

Over in a dark corner of the bar, in a dark booth sits Raina. Yes, she's finally in the bar proper again. Her dark eyes are watching the bar while she eats her steak and chocolate moose pie. Feel free to threaten or otherwise harass her. Just as long as it doesn't get deadly or anything. Or, if you don't understand why she should be harassed just send your character over to poke her.

And ~~finally~~ Doyle is sitting at a well lit booth in the bar. There's a cup of tea sitting slightly forgotten on the table. The reason it's forgotten is because he's studying a steele sword that he's decided to use for practice. Because Bainidhe Dub really isn't a sword that he wants to expose most of the bar to.

kawaiiorihime.livejournal.com

(Circa Bleach anime ep. 62) Orihime had just finished healing Ichigo, and some other injured Shinigami. It had been a very long, strenous day in Soul Society, and she was looking forward to resting. Only to have the door open to Milliways.

"Ah! Milliways again! Sugoi!" She clapped her hands some, and decided to go sit in a booth and relax. Maybe with a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake.

(ooc: mun's semi-here, so will have to slowtime, but I'll get tags when I get back)

scapepig

There is a rather sad-looking pig outside, under one of the trees with his head resting gently on his front trotters.

Current Mood: homesick

not_that_spike

Some nights he wonders when he became a hand-in-hand type of guy. It's definitely sometime in the past year and a bit: not a chance it was before that. Before he got here it was gun-in-hand or cigarette-in-hand. From time to time he has the idle thought that if they see what a fucking pile of mush he turns into when Beth is around, the ubiquitous They will take away his bounty hunting license.

He doesn't give a damn. Whatever moodiness had a hold on him the past couple days, it's sure as hell gone now. It's not like he's even looking at anyone else: Beth's hand is in his, and his eyes are on her, and there's not a thing in the universe that's going to distract him. They wander into the bar like a couple of high school kids going out for milkshakes after a dance or something: the stars he sees aren't through the viewing window.

They're in Beth's eyes.

And maybe, just a little, in his. Making their way to the usual table by the fire, Spike pulls out the chair for Beth and gets her settled: there's definitely a private language only the two of them share right now. He sits next to her, never letting go of her hand.

Love you, love you.

It kind of amazes him how good it all is.

bloodyrockgod

[OOM: Darien and Charlie celebrate their two-month anniversary. Rated V for Vegas Baby, I for Invisibility and S for Snuggles.]

how-pathetic.livejournal.com

Sess was looking for Amanda but it seems he was to late and he hates that, as he finishes his drink and leaves for the night.

col-cardboard.livejournal.com

Grim pilot.

Green ale.

Booth.
First time the mun's done an entrance post of five words or less. Go her?

gris_bug_man

[OOM: Grissom learns that empathy can only go so far.]

herald-captain.livejournal.com

Kerowyn is sitting at a table, drinking a cup of tea. There's book of strategy open in front of her and she glances at it in between people watching. She'd not say no to a distraction.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

Angela is in a booth, with milkshake and french fries. She looks lovely, by the way, sensible makeup, nice blouse, jeans that fit.

Not that the blouse is really her, but oh well. She's trying.

However, what she is reading is totally Angela: It's a book about the size of a brick, called Otherland, Volume One: City of Golden Shadow. She's well into it, turned sideways in the booth, balancing the hardcover book on her knees, munching a fry when she remembers to eat.

It's an older series, but it's pulled her in.

Still, she wouldn't mind talking.

mnt_mike

Mike stands behind Bar.
If you happen to be familiar at all with the children's television show Fraggle Rock then you'll recognize that shirt. Poor Wembley must be so cold...and a whole lot bigger in person than you'd expect. Curious.

"Ladies and Gentlemen.
Dance your cares away.
Worry's for another day.
Let the music play,
Down at Fraggle Rock.

Yes, that's right.
Down at Fraggle Rock.^*

The drink special tonight is The Muppet.
So step right up and let's see of the Ol' Bar is up to making some Doozer Towers.

Bar is open!"

[^* This bit is not sung, but rather dramatically read. If you don't, you're a stronger mun than I.]

myladyrhiannon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Rhiannon, in Homana-Mujhar, observes Keely and the thing Keely must do, as Rhiannon has bid her to do...]

Current Mood: excited

countofserenno.livejournal.com

Dooku is out back from the Bar, meditating, since Dooku hasn't a whole lot else to do in the Bar. Someone should come interrupt him...he won't bite. Really, he won't.

lavender-cat.livejournal.com

*There is a very pretty boy sneaking in through the front door, head cocked to one side as though listening for something. That something not being the noise that one would expect from a bar. He jumps a little, looking around quickly, lavender eyes wide.*

Oh...

*It's been so long since he's been in Milliways that he'd almost forgotten it.

Confused Nathaniel-kitty in a bar.*

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

The running went well. And so did the recovery, at least so far as the first day's worth of recovery can ever go. Likely he'll pay for this morning's exercise tomorrow.

For the moment, Sergeant Wells is content to sit in one place, over by the fire, with his feet propped up and the remains of a vegetarian dinner nearby.

gaelic-fae-girl.livejournal.com

Irish artist in the bar.
She had some tea by her, and was idly sketching.
But she also seemed lost in thought.

blond-bubbles.livejournal.com

Bubbles Utonium is in the bar. After what seems like forever for her mun...

Idly flipping through a teen magazine, Bubbles sips at her soda on occasion on her stool. Reading through some of the articles with only mild interest.

She is SO bored...

Come by and poke her.

seker-pride.livejournal.com

Sitting near the fire, Strahan is reading the book Amanda gave him; specifically, the part she's marked off for his perusal. It's a strange custom, he notes, marking off a day of the year to celebrate an emotion.

What the Cheysuli - so emotionally constipated a race - would say about celebrating something they don't even have a word for in their language...

There's Niall, sitting with Ian, enjoying mugs of honey brew, and discussing families and kings and rulerships, but no cabbages, shoes, ships or ceiling wax. They occasionally laugh, and Ian will, from time to time, pat Niall's shoulder as they recount what Niall's children have or have not gotten themselves into.

Right now, the kiddie talk involves Niall's son Hart and Hart's strange but growing interest in dice and runesticks...

And not to be left out, there's Hale. Not in the bar at all, but outside. Being most un-Hale-like by playing pouncing games with Kya and burying himself in the snowbanks, then popping out of them.

The spring friskies seem to have come early for our stoic warrior and his lir...

[Tag whichever one captures your attention; we'll be here for another hour or so yet.]