milliways_bar | Feb. 12th, 2006

Feb. 12th, 2006

The Duo Maxwell who returns to Milliways is in a considerably more foul mood than the one who left earlier. He came home from work to an empty apartment, and a very brief message from Heero.

'Evaluation. I'll be gone for awhile. Will return.'

He takes a few moments to curse out Une the Dragon Lady, and Heero for being uncommunicative, even if it isn't his fault.

But! His partner is on a mission without him. And evaluation will mean it's something Heero isn't specialized for.

So he paces in front of the fire for a while, before throwing on a long coat in a swirl of black and stomping outside.

eldorne-girl.livejournal.com

[Contrary to popular belief, Delia of Eldorne does, in fact, have breakfast. Sometimes, admittedly, she might forget, but she does normally have it. And lunch and dinner as well]

[she's just one of those hatable people who is naturally slim and delicate looking.]

[so, cue Delia. Sitting at the bar, eating bread and cheese with a cup of hot, black coffee. Not looking quite awake yet, though don't be fooled - Delia is very, very unlikely to go anywhere in public without being aware of what is going on. Acting like she doesn't, though...]

Current Mood: content

witchy-rebel.livejournal.com

The backdoor opens, and in walk in a witch and a wizard. Well, Morgan and Barty, to be precise. And they seem to be laughing more then actually 'walking'.

No, Morgan isn't not giving up her attempts to teach her boyfriend how to ride a horse. She's evil like that.

She's also making a bee-line directly for the couch in front of the fire.

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

Coke instead of coffee today. Being sipped through a cherry licorice whip with both ends bitten off.

But she's still in the booth, with a shiny badge and a notebook. The notebook is being eyed speculatively, and she has the air of one who is plotting. As it's Max, the plot is likely foolish, destructive, or potentially lethal.

Probably all three. That's just been her luck lately.

learningtosee.livejournal.com

Stella is at the bar, a bit cross-eyed as she intently focuses on a book. She can't read, but this isn't the sort of book you read. It's title is displayed in large bright capital letters: OPTICAL ILLUSIONS!!!! Right now she's at a picture of an elephant whose legs are just...not right. Were there five? No, wait, it's just four... or no.. its... She puts the books down and rubs her eyes. Perhaps she isn't quite ready for this much optical exercise.

righthandwoman.livejournal.com

Still heading toward Athens, still unsure of their chances of landing a job when they get there.

In the meantime, Milliways offers more distraction from anxiousness--not that Zoe's anxious, because Zoe is not the one who gets anxious--than Serenity.

So she's settled at a table off to one side, finishing up dinner and watching the activity in the bar quietly.

clumsy_auror

[OOC: A day in three acts.

Act One: In which laundry is folded, and histories are discussed.

Act Two: In which dinner is cooked, and everyone is just a little bit testy.

Act Three: In which Attempts are made, and where necessity promotes creativity.

WARNING: The last part is, quite possibly, the smuttiest smut we've ever written, just so's you know. It's earthy. And also, for you Still Life fans out there, rather canonical.

(Also, warning for length. But hey, it's a whole day, so yes.)

Millitimed to Friday.

Hope you enjoy. :D]

un_fallen

[OOM: Raguel by the lake, finally taking Raven's advice.]

Raguel enters by the lake door and takes a seat near the bar. There's a light in his eyes that isn't often seen there. He's looking idly around the bar, but judging by the wistful expression, he hardly seems to be seeing it.

onetruth-sleuth.livejournal.com

Conan inna bar, buried in one serious mess of newspapers. He's quickly...and, I mean VERY quickly...skimming over sheets, seeming to blow through papers in a blur. There is a nearly untouched cola nearby.

Feel free to poke, he could use a break...

badinlatin

[ooc: because two am is the best time ever to attempt an entrance post. Be gentile. BTW - Doubt I will be longer than two hours. Guaranteed crack.]

There is a Rogue Spaceship Captain inna bar, ladies and menfolk.

What is he doing, so that you may identify him as Rogue and a Captain of Spaceships?

He is reading a romance novel.

I do not understand why either.

lightningbaron6.livejournal.com

[OOM: This scene defied summarization. Everything the muns came up with had sexual overtones. Sometimes getting stuck in an elevator and talking about feelings is just getting stuck in an elevator and talking about feelings.

Especially when Zechs and Heero are the ones involved.]

aj_crawley

Crowley is, as they say, in the bar. Nothing unusual about that, right? Only he's sitting back at his usual table, instead of lounging by the fire, which is a little odd, considering the nippy weather. Secondly, not that he isn't always well-dressed, mind you, but rather more so this evening. He's looking downright sharp, in fact.

And thirdly, he looks, perhaps, just a little, and to the trained observer, a wee bit nervous.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

There is a certain ritual in the life of the beings known as Tims. It is one everyone in the bar is quite familiar with, and probably has come to fear. After all, every living being has thier own rituals, be it the little one of always putting their left sock on first, or the larger ones of never accepting any bill larger then a 10. Yes, it's one of mine. Big bills are unlucky.

Howevere, the specific ritual I am referring to is the "Mope of Doom," otherwise known as "Death by Alcohol." Whenever a Tim gets depressed, or upset, or in an otherwise overly down mood, he can be found surrounded by a tower of empty glasses, and a table of full drinks, which he goes through like water. Except for the last time, when he gave them to other people.

But Still! Every three or four months, there is a tower of drinks and an upset Tim. It is Tradition! (Insert song on Tradition from 'Fiddler on the Roof')

Fuck Tradition.

Hellspawn is upset, and a little sad, but he ain't moping. That's for lesser people. Lesser Tims. Instead, he is celebrating. He's got the jukebox on, is pumping out some dance music, and is showing off his moves.

Front flip, back flip, land and spin, back spin... If there is one thing acrobatics is good for, and there are many things, it's break dancing.

But he's willing to slow it up if anyone else wants to dance.

And oh yeh.... He's mask-less. It's a teen Tim doing all this.

bloodandnicotine

"GERONIIIIIIIMO!"

And a blond haired vampire comes flying through the front door, at abouyt waist level, horizontal. Not of his own volition.

He lands in a heap on the floor, and jumps up immediately, ready for a fight. His hair is a mess, his jacket is ripped, and his face is bloody. But he's smiling.

"All right you bloody piece of ... if that's the way we're gonna play it, that's the... Hey. Milliways!"

And he changes to relaxed, just like that.

"Perfect timing love."

notashortbean.livejournal.com

[OOM: Put two teenagers in a room and get them drunk, and they're never going to do what they're supposed to do.

Steph and Ed are not an exception to this rule.]

withamagicword

Billy Batson practically bounces down the stairs, his eyes intent. He scans the main area, looking for someone in particular. When he doesn't see who he is looking for, he sighs and finds a seat at Bar.

He sits for a minute but then starts scanning the room again, his eyes intent. He has finally heard about Ethereals being in the Bar and put two and two together, and now is seeking a particular one. HIs usual bouncy energy is all tied up with nerves and fear and hope as he almost vibrates out of his seat.

(ooc: Plotlocked to Aziraphael, thank you.)

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Knox trudges into the Bar. In bathrobe and sweats and slippers. Sort of like Oscar Madison only without the baseball cap.

He wasn't expecting this. He isn't happy.

He is here, though, and will make the most if it. Assuming he can find some money somehow.

[ooc: mun likely to be on and off line today. let it snow.]

morgue-matron.livejournal.com

Natalie is sitting at the bar, nursing a cosmo. It's early for it here, but late for it in Toronto and no matter what time it is, she's worried and upset and the booze is looking pretty damn good right now. She isn't drinking it, because she'd like to think she's stronger than that, and because she's in this bar and Gabriel would certainly complain, but she does stare at it moodily and only vaguely consider getting food.

Gary is in as well, sitting in a back corner with his usual paperwork. He seems more harried than usual, more stressed, but the liberal sips of tea do seem to be helping matters.

Thomas sits outside near a certain tree, murmuring faintly to her about his job and Harry and what's going on at home and all manner of things. Mouse sits beside him, or rather on top of his legs in an attempt to keep him warm even if it's not really necessary.

Apropos sits in a corner with his breakfast and wrangles with his narrator. No, Po, I'm not writing it out, you little attention hog. Yes, I'm sure I'm a bitch.

Warren is bored and thus he's sitting in the corner of the bar playing with a couple of flames at the tips of his fingers. Well, if he's going to be stuck here, he might as well work on his control.

Ismena sits daintily at the bar and sips at some tea while enjoying a light breakfast of toast.

and finally

Jack Fleming sits in a dark corner of the bar, sipping at a drink that keeps making his eyes flair red. He doesn't notice, mostly because he couldn't see himself in a mirror anyway and partly because he's engrossed in his Doc Savage pulp and really, can you blame him?

inquisitivehero

Hank comes in through the Door, carrying a couple of boxes. He disappears upstairs for a moment and then comes back down and settles at the Bar, ordering a large plate of lunch and glancing around the Bar. He hauls out his rather odd looking laptop and taps at it idly as he watches the Bar and eats.

knight-sparhawk.livejournal.com

Sparhawk is rather annoyed. Once again pulled into Milliways at a moment when he wasn't expecting it, and this time at a time when his heart is heavy, he is rather put out with it all, especially since he didn't remember Milliways at all while he was gone. The weight of Bhelliom and of killing Azash stood hard on his heart, as did the death of Kurik.

Having these memories of Milliways suddenly flooding into his mind on top of everything else was... irritating and almost more than he wanted or could deal with.

So he did what he did when he was most irritated, he went riding.

Thus, now, there is a Sparhawk, on a Faran, riding out in the back area, Bhelliom tucked into his shirt, as usual.

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

It took a good ten minutes of careful mirror watching to make sure there were no telling marks on his face anymore before Jason could convince himself to come downstairs. But he's finally back.
Ivanhoe meets him at his booth with some breakfast, the usual grumbling look only slightly softened. Jason winks at him, then leans back, finding a comfortable position and carefully starting his breakfast.
Come poke the werewolf, but not too hard; he's still a bit sore.

[OOC: Unexpectedly called away. Don't know when I'll be back *insert cursing here*. Go ahead and tag if you want, I'll get back to the slowtimes.]

judo-rachel.livejournal.com

Rachel Moore is a little down.

Valentines Day is just around the corner, and she doesn't have a valentine. As usual.

It doesn't help that she hasn't seen Jimmy in what feels like forever...

Come by and poke Rachel out of her ho-hum mood.

a-fell.livejournal.com

[oom: As You Like It (or, All's Well That Ends Well.)]

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM: I Have Slipped The Surly Bonds of Earth. When things are dark, Jack finds something to hold on to. WARNING for more violence and disturbing imagery than the last one.]

the-silver-lady.livejournal.com

An Elf is seated near a window overlooking the lake, working on needlepoint.

Her expression is one of pure contentment.

unique-moments.livejournal.com

Lemonade popsicles might be a strange thing to eat in the middle of February, when it's so cold outside.

But according to Samantha's handy book of morning sickness remedies, the tart taste and the coldness will help.

Sadly, it's not.

Someone want to comfort the green Samantha?

balletrat

*Meg's sitting at a table, and frowning.

In front of her - not right in front; more in the middle of the table, far enough that she'd have to reach to pull it closer if she wanted to read it - is a book. A history book, to be precise, an overview of the twentieth century; Meg picked it up from the bar a few minutes ago.

It's not been opened yet. Meg's still eyeing it warily.*

someonesdog

When you're a woman, you have to deal with this thing often refered to as 'the time of the month'.

When you're a female werewolf, you have to deal with TWO 'times of the month', and unless you're very very lucky (although whether that's good or bad luck has never been conclusively decided), they rarely coincide.

When you're an unBound female werewolf, you have to deal with those two, AND whatever time of the month it is at the Bar whenever you turn up.

Angua is in the bar for a specific reason, but that doesn't change the irritation. It doesn't change the fact that she's suffering from PLT at a time when her body doesn't think it SHOULD be suffering from PLT.

So what we have here is a very irritated werewolf at the bar, sitting in front of a pint and tapping her fingers irritably on the bar.

And she has to be here for the NEXT THREE DAYS, godsdammit.

[OOC: placeholder really, as am going to walk the real dogs. Not locked, though! Will pick up any and all tags when I get back.]

smith-jane-mrs.livejournal.com

There was an assassin curled up in one of the chairs near the fire, pint of ice cream in one hand, spoon in the other.

She was wearing something resembling pyjammas, her hair was loose, hardly even brushed, and she wasn't wearing the usual tasteful makeup, in fact, she wasn't wearing any makeup at all.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Last night was not an easy one for Sergeant Wells. And this morning- as in, two seconds after sun-up- wasn't much better either. He's never been so grateful for being capable of sprinting in his entire life.

Nevertheless, he waited for some time before he felt quite safe in coming into the bar. Tonight's going to be even worse, he's all too aware. Might as well get in the biggest damn meal he possibly can before it all goes pear-shaped on him.

general-lando.livejournal.com

OOM: Lando buys stormtrooper armor for Sgt. Wells

eldorne-girl.livejournal.com

[somebody is just a little bit bored, and somebody is sitting at the Bar with a glass of wine, watching the room with bright, bright-green eyes]

[also wearing her high boots and short skirt - never a good indication of Delia's mind]

Current Mood: mischievous

no-more-chianti.livejournal.com

Hell of a time for Alanna to be scarce.

So reflects a disgruntled Clarice Starling as she ventures out into the cold winter afternoon.

She ought to have gone out days ago, but she'd kept finding ways to put it off. Now, however, there isn't another inch of her room to scrub, another possible configuration for the knickknacks on the table, and making her bed again would just be ridiculous. So, in a jacket too thin for the weather, she's making her way towards the stables.

They look pretty much like she remembers them, which is kind of a relief; proof that she can keep up with something around here.

Clarice knocks-- stupidly-- and, after a moment, nudges the door open.

"Susan?"

Warmer in here than out in the snow; she steps inside.

"Hey, Susan? Alain?"

maydaybrat.livejournal.com

Well, it had to happen eventually...

The Bar gave Mordred tea. Black tea, but it's still...tea.

And the prince is not that happy, really. As you would be, when your plans for drowning your sorrows are spoiled by a sentient, motherly bar.

...Tea.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

Jack has a doctor's appointment today. He's a little on edge. "A little" is fitting, as his edginess is imperceptible. Take his early glass of wine as you will. He's at the bar, now, enjoying a nice salmon lunch.

guppy_sandhu

[oom: After this]

Guppy comes downstairs and goes up to the bar. He orders breakfast and is taking it over to a booth when he notices his shoelace is undone. He puts down his toast and bends down to do it up, leaning against the door. To his utter surprise, it opens and he falls sideways through it with a suitable effeminate squeal. He stares in amazement from the other side as the door disappears again.

Bar-side, the black cat bounds up to the door, meowing as he sees his mummy disappear through to the other side. He whimpers and scratches at the door.
When he has no success, he steals Guppy's toast and lies down next to the door, waiting for him to come back.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Arithon, badge visible because as far as he knows he's on tonight, enters the bar and finds a seat at Bar herself. This only means that when he's informed what he'll be eating by Tashka it is a bit faster than normal, as instead of chittering and returning with food, Bar serves the meal.

That's right. His life is run by a rat.

So there is a bemused Master of Shadows looking at a bowl of soup, mug of ale, and plate of dark bread.

((My computer is trying to explode. I'm not ignoring you. Comments are going in odd places, but really. I'm not ignoring you.))

blueskinnedboy.livejournal.com

Here is a face not seen for a while.

Krishna--known now by mortals as Chris Patel--enters the bar, a satchel on his back and a smile on his face.

He's been a trek. And now he's back.

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

Wander in.

Head for infirmary.

Head out, now holding a small pregnant dryad.

Bartend.

Any drinks with cherry or mint half off

"What's your pleasure?"

Said quietly, as Ce'Nedra is asleep.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

Svava enters the bar from the back door. The weather had been decent today- so. There was running out by the lake, and now she is back in to grab something to eat and drink before she heads back to her room to change for her Security shift later tonight.

She is quite catchable, however.

hanild.livejournal.com

A slightly subdued Hanild has finally made her way out to the stables. Even though some of the animals are strange, she finds it as relaxing as she did at home. For the moment, she's sitting in a corner, knees pulled up to her chest, and is just thinking.

kitchen_maid

Amy is sitting at a table not far from the fire.

There's nothing on the table but a glass of lemonade.

Amy is apparently engaged in a staring contest with the glass of lemonade.

It's hard to tell who's winning.

ETA: [ooc: ~~Mun off for dinner, back later.~~ Back.]

go-between.livejournal.com

Richard is back in the booth he used to sleep in when he first arrived at Milliways. Only now, he's not sleeping. He is still taking up the whole booth, but now it's filled with ledgers and paperwork instead blankets and extra clothes. He's bent over an old ticker-tape adding machine, and comparing his figures to those in an old ledger.

{ooc: Being called away to dinner. Back in an hour or two. ^_^}

eostre-of-dawn.livejournal.com

There is a goddess sitting at the Bar sipping a Tequila Sunrise. When did she get there?

petraarkanian.livejournal.com

Petra Arkanian is not having a good time of it. She looks tired, and while to the casual eye she looks kept up, her hair is dirty and her clothes are wrinkled.

Out of desperation she has set up a small sign facing the bar. "Need to talk to anyone who knows of Count Dooku. - or the dark side of the force."

She is sitting sipping tea with her head proped up, just waiting, hoping someone sees and responds.

[ooc:Mun is back for evening.]

alec-or-alonzo.livejournal.com

There's a Phil!

And she's sipping tea and reading Canadian Woman. She's in a good mood. There may even be cookies involved. Of course, her mood would be even better with company.

ineedavicodin.livejournal.com

He's in the bar nursing a cup of chocolate milkshake, a sudoku puzzle on the table in front of him, a dog on the floor at his feet.

He's in a somber sort of mood. If he's honest, he's a little bit homesick. He hasn't seen the door for weeks, hasn't seen Cameron or Wilson either. He does't particularly want to go home, where Foreman is running his department, calling shots and ordering him around. He doesn't want to deal with Stacy, or his ever confusing feelings for Stacy. He's content to stay in the bar, where his life seems so much easier. He has a room and his dog, and he doesn't have to cook or save lives. He can just sit back and exist.

accessobrian.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: Chloe's had a long day. And now she's really freaking tired.]

It takes Chloe O'Brian a moment, but she realizes fairly quickly that this is not her apartment.

"This isn't right." She turns back to the door, but it does not open to her apartment.

Re-Enter one cranky, over-worked CTU Nerd.

[ooc: I didn't want to bore anyone with flowery "It's been a hell of a year, she came here, died, but now returns triumphant!" language, so I'm writing an ooc note. She was here, died, and now is back. But from a previous time, so this Chloe has never been to Milliways, so if you know her, she won't know you, sorry!]

river_meimei

River, curled in a booth, has a cup of cocoa (lukewarm now) and a notebook. It's a notebook of her world, which means it's actually a single sheet of digital paper, with a row of small touchscreen-buttons in one corner for things like flipping between pages.

Whatever she's working on, it's about half in Chinese and half in incomprehensibly complicated equations, with the occasional incomprehensible diagram to go with it.

abs-denham.livejournal.com

Abs comes down the stairs and goes out of the back door. A few minutes later he comes in again and scans the bar, looking on each of the couches.
Then he spies the mournful black cat curled up by the fire, heads over and picks it up.

"Where's your mummy Scamps?"

Scampi doesn't reply. This is because he's a cat. Abs sits down on the nearest sofa with a worried frown.

blankslatelogan.livejournal.com

He'd been scarce for the past little while, no real surprise when you take into account the fact that he is not always particularly sociable. But the weather's such that he's not inclined to be outside for long today. So. Brooding Logan warming up by the fireplace.

Have at.

reluctantcleric.livejournal.com

oooh, hey, it's another multi-pup post! Wheeee! (The mun's snowed in, and bored. FEAR!)
All seperate since they don't know each other. (And that's probably a good thing.... >.>
Just indicate in you tag which one you want to bother.

Over here in a booth, and reading some literature is a dead Cleric, Partridge.

At another quiet booth, there's one of the Watchers, alive and middle-aged. Also had some books, and tea by him, but he was people-watching the bar. Trying to relax. And there was a wistful smile on Giles' face.

And love 'em, hate 'em, there's a wizard git over by the fireplace. Martin was in his coop in his room at the moment. The voices were slowly fading, but focusing on the flames continued to help Draco's troubled mind. Trances seemed almost addictive at times.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace loves fire. Is it so very odd then that she's spread a dropcloth out in front of the fireplace and is now carefully disassembling what used to be a very technical-looking bit of machinery? Every few minutes she pauses and rubs at a spot just above her right eye, leaving smudges of black grease.

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

The door opens, and a man walks through, in a tuxedo and formal cape, carrying a boquet of flowers. He blinks once, then facepalms. "This isn't funny, Bar. Can't I even go on vacation without being pulled in here every third day?" Oh. well.

Come bug Mark-inna-tux. He's cute when he blushes.

cywyllog

Cywyllog steps into the bar and sighs. She has no idea how long she's been gone by bar time, but isn't quite sure she wants to be here just now.

Still, she sneaks a cup of tea and curls up in a chair for a few minutes of peace.

alwaysroomforhope

[OOM: Steph is Miserable and Angsty. Dick helps.]

leftthecradle.livejournal.com

A single candle on a table.

Two eyes fixed on the flame.

Hands folded against his chest.

The Ranger is meditating...but won't mind interruptions. Most truly interesting things in life are interruptions of some kind.

bloodyrockgod

It's dark and cold outside, but Cahrlie has good boots and a big sweatshirt, and he's in a mood.

So there's a bassist dancing outside by the lake while he listens to his iPod.

prydeful

Lockheed is pacing.

Pace, dragon, pace.

Still pacing.

Why?

Because sometime relatively soon, there will be Eggs.

...

Pace, dragon.

Pace like the mofo you know yourself to be.

Huh.

You may not be able to make a hole in the floor this quickly, but if you have claws you sure can make grooves.

howdy-howdy.livejournal.com

Dude Wrangle looks rather more at home here, now. He still lives back in Walla Walla, of course, but all his family save Kathleen lives here -- so it's here he sits, escaping the din of the flat for a little while for a cup of coffee at the Bar.

A ledger is open in front of him, and a pair of reading glasses is perched on the end of his nose.

namo

[OOC: Not open to tagging -- sorry!]

The door opens on a library and five people step through into the bar.

Námo's eyes are bright as he leads Gorlim into the Bar, kissing him once before they share quiet words and part, promising to meet up again as soon as they can -- as well as locating their wayward Lee.

Then the pregnant Elf, who has grown significantly in her month-long sojourn into Aman, all but bounces into the bar. She glances meaningfully at both Námo and Gorlim before the leave her, the two men knowing exactly what she meant with that Look.

Following close on the heels of Gorlim, Nerdanel and Namo are two smaller more human scale figures, one smiling around happily, in gorgeous purple/black robes and leading the other, brown and glowing with sun, yawning behind him, small hooves clicking on the floor. Gil, slightly hungover from the previous nights party, had had to be roused to for their return and couldn't be bothered to dress in the robes slung over his shoulder. Far easier to slip into faun shape and be excused nudity on the grounds of furriness.

"Home again, Soots," Gil said. "C'mon, let's have some cocoa. See ya Red, Gorlim, Lofty." He waved a hand at them and wound his arm through that of Sooty, who was uncharacteristically quiet, probably dreaming of Aman and all the books therein. So gil grinned and goosed him then fled for the kitchen.

Sooty leaped with shock, shot Nerdanel a grin and raced after him.

Nerdanel laughs, watching the four men-gods-faun? she had just spent a month with return to the lives in Milliways, and when she is alone among the other patrons of the bar, she hugs herself and makes for the stairs, toward her son's room.

steadfastknight

There was an AI with a guitar, playing absent arpeggios to the tune of a cup of hot chocolate. Her chording hand had medical tape carefully applied to the fingertips, as she was no masochist and knew the high e-string would cut her fingers, given the opportunity.

She didn't seem adverse to company for all she paused now and then to write down notation.

a-fell.livejournal.com

[oom: Literally, just outside. Aziraphael-Kaylee wittering.]

Current Mood: content

somnium-sum.livejournal.com

Ladies and ~~Gentry~~ Gentlemen, ~~Fae~~ Children of All Ages...

Witness the spectacle, the extravaganza. He's pulled a chair up to the greatest show on earth, which by happenstance is the destruction of the universe. Elbows on knees, chin in palms, so close his nose is touching the viewing window.

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

Aeryn with a big bag (of money) heading towards the exit. Yes, that's all you get.

If it's really urgent, you might be able to catch her before she goes.

[OOC: The start of plottiness, she's going to talk to Crais. She'll only be gone a day.]

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

There's an Atton inna booth, juggling and, as he always does, failing at it. For once, he doesn't have anything else he's doing at the same time, though he is occasionally checking a datapad tutorial.

At least, he thinks it's a tutorial. He keeps seeing subliminal messages in there. It's a bit disturbing, really.

Ignore the evil icon, he's in quite a good, nice, non-psychotic mood right now. I just felt like using it.

shang-dragon.livejournal.com

[OOM: In the office, Liam meets another member of his security team and has a wee chat with Bellatrix. He won't be inviting either one to his house for tea.]

ru-fi-ooooo.livejournal.com

Look! What's this? Someone who hasn't been inside in months, looks like.

It's a good thing the dead can't feel the cold, because Rufio would have frozen solid ages ago. Anyway, he's managed to sneak back indoors for a while... and is immediately engaged in a whispered arguement with Bar. He's laid a small bundle of demon rabbit skins on her surface and is trying to get her to accept them as payment for something.

Eventually the skins disappear and he comes away with a chocolate pie and a mug of coconut milk.

So there you have it: Lost Boy at a table, enjoying a tasty treat while the mun searches for him some more icons.

copper-fray.livejournal.com

Erin's in the bar, Security badge fastened to the lapel of her coat.

There's a notebook by her elbow and a slight frown on her face as she jots down notes.

Possibly she's reconstructing a case file. Because one nice side-effect of this enforced vacation would be a breakthrough on one of her open cases back home.

She's not, however, holding her breath for that.

lethe-forgets.livejournal.com

There is a little nymph curled up in a booth, looking determined and leafing through a pile of what appear to be Dr. Seuss books - most likely borrowed from the Bar. Her hair is held back by a long pin and her nose is scrunched in concentration.

She has, over the few days she’s been missing, managed to coerce someone from the Line into showing her the alphabet. Not that they put up much of an argument – Lethe has found that people would do most anything to stall, even teach over-curious nymphs their letters.

Feel free to ask her what she’s up to. Or to steal I Can Read With My Eyes Shut - she is, unfortunately, not quite that advanced yet.

no-comb-shep.livejournal.com

Sheppard steps into the bar carrying a laptop once more, and once again he only gives his surroundings a quick once-over before heading to a booth and sitting down. At least any distractions here won't be centered around McKay's latest complaints or Kavanaugh..being Kavanaugh. He turns the laptop on and opens a document staring at it for several moments before rubbing his forehead. "Caldwell was right about this," he grumbles.

royal-guarantor.livejournal.com

OOM, millitimed to a couple of days ago: Following this, Roshaun and Dairine head back up to their room and figure out a little more of where they stand. With kissing.

gentleprince.livejournal.com

Faramir is in the Bar, at the bar, with a lot of papers. They are detailed maps, which he is scribbling over busily with a pencil. He erases a lot, using a MARVELLOUS little tool provided by the helpful lady Bar. As a result, both he and the surrounding area are covered in pink rubber dust.

As busy as he looks, he's actually started to get a little bored with strategy and has been mostly doodling in landscape details for the past 10 minutes. He is therefor totally botherable.

ratherbeinitaly.livejournal.com

Teri's downstairs, waiting for Angela. She wishes she could stay for longer, spend more time with Angela and maybe see Kim and Jack.

But the door is there and she knows she can't stay.

young_tmriddle

OOM: Nightmares and Horcruxes: Tom's darkest secret

righthandwoman.livejournal.com

Zoe's curled up near the fire again, tonight, one hand resting lightly on her stomach. It's a fairly pretty picture, if the sawed-off shotgun in a shoulder holster doesn't throw you off.

There's a mug of tea in her free hand, and she's watching the activity in the bar idly.

alwaysroomforhope

[OOM: Barry comes to find Steph and tell her that he's leaving. There is woe. Millitimed to before Steph and Dick talk, of course, but after Ed and Steph get drunk. ...one day I will finish all my slowtimed OOMs in chronological order. BUT IT IS NOT THIS DAY.

In the same post, Billy and Steph christen The BatFlat, and share chocolate. Millitimed to before the Barry-Steph breakage, natch.]

and-far-away.livejournal.com

Sharpe stayed in his old room last night, not going home in hopes of catching Alanna.

He comes downstairs, now, and heads over to the Bar for something to eat.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

Michael comes in from Antar, in uniform, and glances around.

He's looking for someone specific, but others are welcome.

giftedthom.livejournal.com

[OOM: Roger and Thom, uh, talk. Or "talk." Nothing is really explicit. Millitimed to before Thom went to Alex.]

capt_angie

Angie comes downstairs, a cheerful spring in her step. She goes to the bar and orders some dinner- burger and chips for referance- and a Butterbeer, and then she asks for some parchment and a quill and ink as well. She heads to a booth and as she eats she starts to write a few notes on the parchment. The notes quickly become a list- a list with many scribbles and crossings out, but a list all the same.

scapepig

In one corner of the bar there is a large pig, eating his way through a bowl of raw potatoes and reading a book about clocks.

He is very friendly and likes to meet people, as long as they don't stroke him.

agirllost

[OOC note: This is millitimed to after Teri leaves. Oh and before I forget, yesterday was the mun's Milliversary.]

[OOM: Pre-Milliways: Superstition]

Kim glances around and seeing no one she knows, puts down her laptop and a file of papers down on a nearby table.

She's slightly relieved that she still sees the door. She sits down at the booth.

After ordering a diet coke from a nearby wait rat, she opens the file and begins to read an article. She did need a quiet place, after all.

[ooc: Mun is exhausted and going to lie down.]

subtle-will.livejournal.com

Down the hall, put down the satchel, shake the snow from his pant leg, Kirjava waving her tail gracefully, and opening the door.

Those walking past, greeting Will heartily, see nothing more than an empty classroom beyond the open door.

Of course, they don't see Kirjava, either.

The bar might not be a fantastic place to get work done, but Will feels rather more inclined to watching the people, tonight, Kirjava sitting bolt upright on the bartop next to him.

undignified

Things the personal journal on Inyri's datapad doesn't say: Today I was crazy, and my sister was a pompous ass. Then she got killed by stormtroopers. It was the best day ever.

Things it does say: I can't even control eating, because I don't do it enough to control it. There's something really wrong with that.

If you want to know why Wes even has Inyri's datapad, feel free to ask him. He's sitting in a booth with a drink (of WATER), frowning at the screen. (A frown! And he doesn't even know about this!)

He won't tell you, but you can ask.

[ooc: pfft, first line and real line both from Inyri-mun. :P]

ironside-pixie.livejournal.com

It's not every day a pixie leans against the Bar. Perhaps every other day. Regardless, Kaye leaning.

Every so often she flips the catch on a gold, heart-shaped lighter, watching the flame rise. Pretty.

Now that's bold.

never-mourned.livejournal.com

Contrary to popular belief, Elphaba does other things than read.

Just not often, and not in this particular entrance post.

Bar seems, at least, to have given up on the parenting books.

Instead, she's reading transcripts of sermons given by Unionist ministers and comparing them with a book on the stories of the pleasure faith.

You can just tell she was a blast at Shiz, can't you?