milliways_bar | Feb. 16th, 2006

Feb. 16th, 2006

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

"...cloud your judgement!" The blond man's voice is raised just enough that the tail end of the sentence preceeds him through the door leading in from the lake.

The woman looks away, dark hair falling to obscure her expression, her voice pitched low enough that it doesn't carry, though it was likely an argument, judging from the sudden tightening in the man's jaw, the belligerent expression.

"You can't stay here forever."

She looks up sharply, eyes narrowing. "You really think I don't get that? This is only, what, the third time we've had this discussion? The fourth?"

He turns his back at that, and stalks off towards the door.

Max sighs, glancing around for an empty table. She finds one, and sinks into a seat, resting her chin in the palm of one hand, weary. After a moment, she glances up, scanning the room for familiar faces.

(OOC: Max is very much available for tagging. The mun will be very fond of you if you tag, in fact, as she is trying to distract herself from stressing over her midterm tomorrow.)

mogget_cat

*Aw. Isn't it cute? An ickle white kittums curled up before the fireplace.*

*Come pet it and make it purr.*

regan_tam

Gabriel is at a fundraising dinner tonight. It's a relatively minor event, benefiting the Interplanetary Health Consortium, and he's attending as a highly regarded negotiator for Birnam Corp. Gabriel Tam is not officially a parlimentary candidate, not yet, but the rumors have been whispered in the right ears, and are spreading. The formal announcement may be a week and a half away, but there will be any number of eyes watching him with political calculation.

Ordinarily, Regan would be at his side, smiling and making pleasant chatter under the bright lights. But she's been fighting off a cold recently, and it's a minor enough event that tonight she opted to stay home. Tea and oranges, she thought, and comfortable clothes, and curling up on the couch with a new novel. It's only going to get busier from here, after all, as the campaign picks up.

And if the house is empty with him gone, if she catches herself listening sometimes for the sounds of Simon and River playing in the other room --

Well. That's foolish and megrims, she tells herself, and puts the wishing firmly out of her mind.

...At least until she gets up for more tea, and steps into the kitchen. And finds herself, teacup in hand, in the bustle and noise of a semi-familiar crowded bar.

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

Yesterday Eddie was running outside in the snow (like a fool) and slipped and strained a muscle in his leg. This does not suit him to standing behind a bar all night, but try telling him that. You practically have to sit on the man to get him to stay in bed and not hobble off to work.

Mind you, that's not necessarily a task without its rewards of its own kind.

Anyway, Eddie is asleep and Susannah finally feels she can safely come out here without having to keep a hawkeye on the bar to see if the silly man has decided to go to work after all. She's got hot chocolate in a little cupholder thing rigged onto the arm of the chair (Valentine's present) and is sitting near the fire reading.

diamndcourtesan.livejournal.com

OOM: Hardly the first time Desire's left someone in tatters. Millitimed to early morning, yesterday -- which happens to be sometime in July. *shifty*

Please also note that this is Desire from 1899, meaning before itshehe comes to Milliways. Just so's there's no confusion or more breakiness than is absolutely necessary.

gonna_live

[That long black cloud is coming down.

Earlier tonight, out back, Kaylee goes outside. So does Simon. And so does Jubal Early.

Say it with me, class: This Cannot End Well.

There's an escape, in which things are discussed.

And then, later, Simon and Kaylee go visiting River's intentions.

Insert ominous music here.]

a-fell.livejournal.com

Aziraphael comes into the bar.

He's wiping his hands on a hanky, somewhat fretfully, but tucks it away into his pocket once he reaches the wonderfully wide expanse of tea-dispensing wood.

Be-tea'd once more, he potters over to tuck himself neatly into a booth, sipping slowly and watching the bar with some curiosity.

Current Mood: thoughtful

virii-twins.livejournal.com

Now there's something you don't see every day. Something that Milliways probably hasn't seen at all yet.

Just one of the twins. All by himself. Over there by the window.

The other one's probably lurking around somewhere. Probably, but with them it's always difficult to say.

( mun has to leave in 15 minutes for work, but as always, they're bitchy and demanding, so here y'go )

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Hey look it's Amanda.

Oh dear is she knitting, no lokos more like crocheing. Heavens what is the world coming too. The purle and white yarn is being formed into...well hard to tell at this point as she seems to have just gotten started.

There is as always tea and fruit that seem to be untouched. What is different are the chocolates sitting next to said fruit. Hmm, wonder if she would be willing to share.

silverageflash.livejournal.com

Barry comes down to the Bar for a moment, and leaves a note...

( To Eska Smith, Ray Stantz, Guppy Sandhu, Hank and Catherine McCoy, Lt. Naraht, Stephanie Brown, Violet Parr, Gil Grissom, Asar-Suti, Billy Batson, Jack Knight, Clarice Starling, Sir Alanna, and any members of the JLA ) He signs it with a lightning bolt. He feels like he's left off some names he should have included, but trusts the Bar to give the note to the right people.

He lets the note sink into the Bar, and leaves.

venusadept_2

Here's a Felix. He's not being grumpy today. Also noticeable is that his scabbard is empty.

Also? He is slightly transparent. He can still be seen well enough, but if something beyond him is glowing or particularly real, it will also be visible through him.

[OOC: If Hank happens to check on the sword, the same is true of it.]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Sergeant Wells awoke early this morning, as he always does, and went for his run and his workout before the sun was properly up. It took a while to run through properly; this is what happens when you put your concentration into getting the forms exactly right. He came inside for some of it, as the hanging bag Bar provided him with was no longer an option. Raphael's, in the back room, proved an admirable substitute.

He's clean now, and while he got enthusiastic enough that he'll have bruises and sore spots tomorrow, there's small sign of them anywhere that anyone can see. Thus, he's putting his morning time to good use. It's a poor soldier that doesn't take care of his equipment, after all. The bag Bar gave him is being repaired quietly, one painstaking stitch and patch at a time.

It's slow going, but it's not as if his superiors are going to take him to task for that.

lvpd_sidle

[OOM: Barry and Sara watch the old Batman series. Warning for whitetext.]

perfectblue.livejournal.com

This place is enough to drive anyone mad.

As it is, Illyria is very, very restless.

She doesn't know what waits on the other side of that door. She hasn't been back since every exit had ended badly. But she's not one to shy away from a fight, and at the moment, she may even be hoping for one.

The question of return is not on her mind, nor is the idea of saying goodbye. She thinks briefly of leaving a note, but she settles instead upon watering her plant and leaving it outside of Winnifred's door, for lack of anyone better to leave it with. The girl would take care of it out of her fondness for living things, and it could be easily enough reclaimed upon her return.

With neither hesitation nor very much concern for what she might be walking into, Illyria opens the door and steps through.

(What she finds on the other side? That will have to wait until she returns to tell it.)

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

First time in a good long while (for him) Random of Amber's back, in the bar, and perfectly happy to sit with a cigarette, a newspaper, a cup of coffee and a rather relaxed grin.

He looks, of course, rather tired. But not unpleasantly so, because, like he said, he doesn't need much sleep and a bit of interrupting it isn't taking too much of a toll yet. So while it's coffee he's drinking and not tea, things aren't so bad as all that.

balletrat

[OOM: After their return from Antar, Meg and Andrew have a talk.

Which turns into a fight, of a sort.

Final score - Andrew: 0. Meg: 0. Carpet: 100 (pieces of Meg and Andrew on the floor). Room: -1 (inhabitant). For now.]

lvpd_sidle

Sara is near a fireplace.

She has a large amount of chocolate with her.

And she seems to be grumbling to herself.

If you possess a Y-chromosome, approach with caution.

~~[ooc: Slowtime for class at 1pm CST.]~~

cywyllog

Welsh princess inna bar.

In a chair. By the fire.

Wine, not tea.

Tired and moody.

reapsandcons.livejournal.com

"Hel-lo, Der Waffle Hau--"

Daisy cuts herself off mid-sentence, because whatever this place is, it certainly isn't Der Waffle Haus. Which is very odd, since the windows of the building definitely showed Der Waffle Haus on the inside, and she even thought she saw Rube and Georgia sitting there.

Apparently -- well, apparently not.

It's not the beginning of strange events for Daisy.

"-- hello unfamilliar bar in the place of Der Waffle Haus! I can still get my lunch here --"

goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com

Clive was around, doing his best not to be in a sulk, he was in fact, doing quite well. The purple feather boa was a great help with this, as was the Cure on the headphones.

He was still curled up in a chair in front of the fire, but he was re-painting his nails, some black chrome, some black with silvery speckles of glitter.

Though easily startled he was still readily approachable.

( *siiiiiiighs @ pups who demand bar-time even when the mun has little time to play* Fifteen minutes, then banished for the next six ish hours, if slowtime's good for you, g'head and tag. )

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

Writer at the bar.

Although he is not a woman, it's safe to say "approach with caution," as he does tend to be bitchy on his own. It does not help that his drink of choice today is coffee.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

It isn't much not much at all, really, just a twisting
turning, curving, slip of
water vapor. Around the edges of the door, twisting and spreading out into the bar. Invisible
even if it is looked at straight on. In the manner of such things it can almost be noticed from the corner of an eye. It is cool if stepped into, or if a questing tendril touches cheek, eyes, or the nape of the neck. Just mist. Desh. Water and air, held together by the alchemy of science and co-existing peacefully with the riders within it. Theire.

gaelic-fae-girl.livejournal.com

See that Irish artist in the bar? See the fuming expression, the flashing blue eyes?
If you were a certain English magician, no not that one, the other one, only not the Other, since he's gone, but you get the idea.
Anyway, he could tell you what that particular expression meant.
There was hot chocolate, and a large slice of Death by Chocolate cake by her.
Beware of the famous O'Reilly temper. Especially now.
You have been warned.

(ooc: slowtimed thread since mun's gonna be in and out of classes. tag with caution anyway. *g*)

namo

The Vala is again in the bar, again by the fireplace, again quietly sitting with a glass of wine.

His mood is grim.

Perhaps someone would like to try and distract him from his brooding.

gorlim.livejournal.com

BEHOLD!

He lurks.

Like... a lurking thing.

Traitor in the bar. Skulking, as traitors are wont to do. In a booth. Skulkishly.

Yes.

inquisitivehero

Hank settles in at his usual table near the Infirmary. He has several strange silvedry boxes with him, which he places behind the table. He puts out a sign on the front end of the table:

Attention:
Chocolates, pain medications, heating pads. and muscle relaxants can be obtained here.

Then he goes back to his usual working on the computer, his nose twitching now and then.

(ooc: Closed to new threads, thank you.)

(ooc: the sign is down and the clueless doctor has retreated to the Infirmary)

moroccofor1year.livejournal.com

*A blond wanders through the door and is pleasantly suprised when she turns and the door disappears. She wanders over to a booth and sits. She'll figure out where to stay and everything later. Penny's just glad to be back. Come bug.*

worst-wizzard.livejournal.com

Rincewind in the bar.

Reading, although his book seems to be upside down.

Occasionally, he glances around the room.

stopped-signal.livejournal.com

Mr. Universe comes downstairs, with his computer as ever, and sets up at a table.

Coincidentally, the one he's chosen is in sight of the infirmary door.

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

The young man in the booth near the door is singing to himself again as he tosses and catches a delicate crystal ball.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Perhaps it's slightly morbid, but he likes it. It makes him remember things.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

[ Upstairs, in Jack's room: Love is blind and you're far too kind, don't ever let it show. ]

stilljustandrew

*There's an Andrew on the stairs, coming slowly down into the main room.*

*Where he pauses for just a moment to stare at a certain figure at the bar with a look of near-loathing, before he takes a quiet corner table and sits there with a mug of the best coffee in the multiverse.*

*He never used to drink coffee, before he came here and met Meg.*

[OOC NOTE: Mun has to go in a few minutes and is not sure when she'll be back online between now and late Monday night. Slowtimes are love. Andrew can be assumed to have left Milliways and gone back to California as of the end of his subthread with Jonathan; he will be back Tuesday.]

guppy_sandhu

There is a Guppy in a booth near the infirmary, eating a salmon and cucumber baguette whilst continuing to plough through the slightly lower mountain of paperwork.

He got the note from Barry a little earlier. It's now in his pocket.

alien-isabel.livejournal.com

And the alien princess is in the bar. She looks a little different than last time she was here, there's something even more obsessive about her appearance. Her walk has also changed and become even more confident. This is all rather disturbing really considering how put together she had already been. She heads to the bar with a smile, orders a salad and a bottle of water and sits down.

the-silver-lady.livejournal.com

An Elf is once more working busily with her needlepoint, softly singing to herself.

She had spoken earlier with her daughter-by-heart, and is now utterly baffled with the intricacies of human biology.

Perhaps someone not afflicted could explain such to her.

teach-them-all.livejournal.com

A Dark Lord is sitting in the bar, delicately sipping a cup of tea. Notably, this Dark Lord is a tall, thin woman in a soberly cut dress of bronze-colored silk. Her icy blue eyes fling calculating side-long glances around the room. If she is suffering from the feminine affliction about the bar, then she is making no note of it. Such... earthy afflictions are beneath one who has transcended humanity as she has. The body is a thing to be subjugated by the will.

The Forsaken is keeping a careful eye out. It never hurt to be cautious. Approach with considerable caution.

watching_you

Veronica Mars comes into the bar, from upstairs.

She looks rather unkempt - her hair unbrushed, her feet beslippered, her eyes wincing and seeking a vengance that will never come. She stops at the bar briefly, to order some purple tylenol and a bowl of chocolate ice cream, then proceeds to one of the couches, where she gingerly lies flat.

"Nnnnrrg."

short--round.livejournal.com

Sounds begin emanating from the door. They start growing louder and indistinct shouting can be heard. The door opens and in comes a young Asian kid. His stumbles a bit and stops, precariously balancing on his toes as his eyes go wide. He thought he was just running through a store and then this? "What the heck?" His thick accent shows through and he looks around. "Where is this? Mr. Jones?" He asks warily.

scapepig

Outside there is an increasingly restless pig clearing the paths.

The last two days he's only been inside the bar to eat, preferring to spend as much time as possible outside, closer to nature.

He cannot therefore be described as being in the best of moods. But not so much as to be uncivil.

the4thsister.livejournal.com

Blonde Paige inna Bar, sitting by the fire, looking very happy and drawing something in her sketch book.

((slow time will be necessary soon but I'm about))

eldorne-girl.livejournal.com

[Delia is in the bar, poised and watchful, pretty as a doll in her green silk dress and braided, coiled hair]

[in the bar, at a table, glass of wine on the table but for once she's not drinking it...]

[instead, the delicate-seeming lady is staring out into space, though not a flicker of emotion shows on her lovely face.]

Current Mood: numb

jedipilot.livejournal.com

There are times Zekk likes being Jaina's mindmate. She's been his best friend for so long, and they've gone through so much together. He couldn't imagine having this sort of connection with anyone else.

And then, there are the times where Zekk abhors it.

Like today, for example. With Jaina curled up grumpily in the booth seat across from him, hugging her knees to her chest and glaring at the world - well, bar. On the table, there's a half-consumed chocolate milkshake and a plate of fizzer-sweets, most of which are gone by now. And the only thing out of all of that Jaina's bothered sharing is that kriffing headache that won't go away.

No. For today, Zekk does not like being Jaina's mindmate at all.

twostandingby

[OOM: After this]

Tycho presses the button and the apartment door hisses open and this is emphatically not his building’s hallway. "Emperor's black bo--" He cuts himself off, his hand instinctively falling to his hip even though there isn’t a blaster there to draw.

And so there is a stunned blond pilot standing just inside the doorway, dressed in standard civilian clothes - knee high black boots over dark brown pants, charcoal-colored shirt, and a black nerf-hide jacket. Take a good look, because this might be your one and only chance to see the unflappable Tycho Celchu flapping uncontrollably. Or, well, staring open-mouthed, anyway.

Because it’s a large bar where the hallway should be, filled with all sorts of strangely-dressed, wrong-looking people. Because when Tycho looks back over his shoulder, there is no sign of his apartment or anything familiar. Because he’s pretty sure he’s not drunk or dead.

...What. The. Kriff.

shaped-jeedai.livejournal.com

For the second night in a row, there is a Jedi in the bar with a Security badge pinned to her jumpsuit.

Unlike most of the other females around, she is not grimacing in pain or searching desperately for meds and heating pads and chocolate. Oh she's got the cramps and a few aches and pains not normally associated with lightsaber workouts... but Tahiri is smiling.

Smiling like she wants very much to kill something tiny with big eyes and soft fur and eat its wee little heart.

Apparently, the Yuuzhan Vong parts of her don't mind this time of the month so much. In fact, they rather enjoy it.

bloodyrockgod

Here is a Charlie, the smallish blond one with the guitar.

He is not playing "Freebird." Not at the moment, anyway.

princeinexile

There is a Zuko by the fire place, with a book in his lap, a hot cup of tea at his side, and a lot on his mind. So much that he doesn't really notice when the fire responds.

After all, a portly old man made out of fire and walking along the stones before it disappaits, only to become a young boy who capers not unlike a monkey is fairly noticable, but Zuko seems pretty oblivious.

If you poke him, the fire might stop dancing to his heartsong.

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

(Her menses had always been light, some months no more than a few of the spots her mother called "a lady's roses."*)

Susannah has a book and a glass of iced tea, but she's only really paying attention to the one with ice in it. The book is laying facedown open to the middle, while she looks up into the rafters with a thoughtful, almost preoccupied expression.

She doesn't look all that aware of her surroundings, but that's probably not the case.

*Wolves of the Calla, p. 121.

abs-denham.livejournal.com

Abs comes through the door, his face bearing a deep scowl. He gets a coffee and sits at the bar sulking and generally being childish.

safetyoverstyle.livejournal.com

Cassie Sandsmark is in the bar, sitting cross-legged on an armchair, looking GRUMPY with a capital G, R, U, M, P and Y.

She has a cup of chamomile tea in her hands, and a stack of chocolate bars beside her.

Come bother her, if you dare.

[ooc: mun here for an hour only, alas.]

dragonvolunteer.livejournal.com

It has not been a good day for Cimorene.

First, she woke up with cramps.

Then she knocked over a huge pile of goblets while cleaning treasure room 4, which means she has to reorganize the whole thing over again.

Then Antorell showed up, seemingly just to annoy her, so she melted him. Stupid Wizards.

No, it has not been a good day, so she's sitting at a table nursing a cup of tea. Sometimes that helps.

fell-in-battle.livejournal.com

In the bar.

Is a Shiloh.

There are two people he actually knows here.

Change that at will.

venusadept_2

Felix, somewhat more transparent now than earlier, has managed to obtain a singing box.

He is, more precisely, slowly fading away. At this point, anything can be seen through him, though only dimly.

The box is a cube, about three inches on each dimension, and it's singing. Specifically, Vivaldi's Concerto in G Major, Opus 8, Number 1. This is more commonly known as The Four Seasons: Spring.

Really, it's quite insistent. It's also repeating from the beginning when it finishes.

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

Security girl in the bar. Sitting near the observation window, in fact, rather than her usual booth. Her attention seems split between watching those around her, and doodling in her notebook.

It isn't, really. The doodling's entirely unconscious. Which might explain the hydra trying to eat the globe.

Bother at will.

judo-rachel.livejournal.com

Rachel Moore is currently outside of Milliways.

Yes, she is seriously PMSing right now. Like most of the other women in Milliways. Thankfully, she doesn't have cramps.

But that doesn't mean that she isn't bitchy. No, not at all.

Just ask the huge pile of splintered logs that she has judo-kicked into near-oblivion.

And she's still going!

So much for karate being a stress reliever...

lvpd_sidle

Gil Grissom is in an unaccustomed position.

He is holding his daughter with one hand, and comforting a friend with the other.

And yes, he is having to assure her that no, nature does not hate women implicitly.

[ooc: Slowtime for an hour--whee, new canon!]

watching_you

Sometime after this, Veronica can be seen working furiously with a marker and piece of cardboard, by the bar.

After a minute or two, she posts a sign:
Women of Milliways:
Don't let the ~~oppressive patriarchy~~ men keep you down. Just because they think your period is something weird and unnatural that should be hidden and banished away doesn't mean it is.

P.S. Don't trust random strangers pretending to be your OB-GYN. They don't know what's good for you. Only you can know that.

Then she stomps off, fuming.

Edit: a few minutes later, the sign has an edit, in a different script.

Beware All Fuzzy 'Doctors' Prescribing Drugs - He Doesn't Know What The Hell He's Talking About.

Edit again: A little while later, the first part of the note is signed:
- Signed, Veronica Mars (Not a random stranger.)

[ooc: I must get me to bed, for I have an early morning. Sorry folken! I'm cool with slowtiming things though, if you are.]

beauty-marred.livejournal.com

Narcissa storms downstairs in a foul mood. The thing that is perhaps making her the most annoyed? There are no potions, no spells for this. She just has to cope, and coping for a Malfoy - or a Black for that matter - is generally unpleasant for those around them.

She orders her usual fruit plate, but this time, with chocolate fondue and whip cream on the side. And a glass of sherry.

Do you need any further warnings?

accessobrian.livejournal.com

Chloe O'Brian is in an odd state of mind currently.

And the signs that are up, You Know Which Signs, aren't helping. You see, Chloe just got here, so technically, she hasn't gotten in sync with the others yet, ~~and you and yours should thank the mun for that,~~ and she finds it just plain weird that anyone would even mention something that personal to anyone aside from their own doctor.

So she takes a look around, spies a calm spot, orders a chicken salad and soda, and settles in.

If you're seeking conversation with a woman who isn't currently ~~bleeding down there~~ in a foul mood, come, sit, flail and complain about whatever your little heart desires!

no_justice

So you know the one about the pirate who walks into the bar with a steering wheel on his crotch?

It's a little bit like that. Only instead of a pirate, it's a seven foot skeleton in a robe of Ultimate Dark. And instead of a steering wheel, it's a scythe with a blade so thin and sharp that it's almost translucent, giving a blue glow at the edge where it slices the very molecules of the air. And instead of his crotch, it's his hand.

Right about the bar, though. At which he sits with a Milky Uberwaldean.

ash--evildead.livejournal.com

Ash is in the bar. If this isn't readily apparent to the casual observer, it's because there's a large pile of parenting books in front of him. He's been reading up.

Unfortunately, he still hasn't found the 'What to expect if your child is genetically predisposed to demon attacks' chapter.

grimy-brian.livejournal.com

Who's the white student boy
That's obsessed with little plastic toys?
BRIAN!
Ya damn right!

Who is the dude that would risk his Hat
For no other man?
BRIAN!
Can you dig it?

Who's the cat that won't wake
'til the daylight starts to fade?
BRIAN!
Right On!

They say this cat Brian is a bad mother
SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
I'm talkin' 'bout Brian.
THEN WE CAN DIG IT!

He's a complicated man
But no one understands him but his Hat
BRI-AN!

(Inna bar.)

Current Mood: bouncy

iwantmybook.livejournal.com

Not only is Ash in the bar, so is ... Ash? This one looks more manic than the other. And he's got two human hands.

WTF?

killer-bride.livejournal.com

Beatrix in the bar.

Beatrix No Happy.

Beatrix No Happy =/= good thing. Please do not feed the unhappy assassin with sharp, pointy objects.

molly-razorgirl.livejournal.com

Joining in the group of Very Unhappy Women is a highly irritated street samurai. She is not pleased with the fact that she's running, by her count, about 9 days early.

If she's cramping, she doesn't show it. She merely comes down from her room and grabs a beer from the bar, all but snarling her order, and then plops herself down in an armchair, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

Archie can still be unobtrusive when he cares to be. Observe how he's actually been in the bar for quite some time, and you're just now noticing him. Isn't that amazing?

blueskinnedboy.livejournal.com

Chris sits near the fireplace, his feet up.

As per usual, he looks well-pleased with his existence. The flute in his hands may have something to do with that--or may have nothing to do with it at all.

part-fools.livejournal.com

It's been some time since Benvolio's last and first time in the bar. Some time in which he was never quite sure how to get back, although he's never stopped trying. He had begun to think he'd imagined it: the sight, the feel, the smell of him.

So when he finds himself back, his face lights up, and he stays standing near the door, scannign the bar for a familiar face.

forest_king

The door opens, closes, and then opens again.

A young man with plain (and slightly wrinkled) clothes and rumpled black hair leans into the bar, looks around, curiously, and then turns and calls over his shoulder,

"Willin? When did we put a tavern in at the top of the North-Northwest Tower?"

stone-cold-dead.livejournal.com

God, I'm such a damsel in distress.

There is a pool of blood on the floor, where none had been before. No cause visible, it simply spreads. After it reaches about three square feet of surface area, a body fades in over it, white-skinned and cold.

The pain is fading, replaced by cold, cold enough to chill you to the bone. The last thing I actually feel is Max's lips.

System shock. The lungs begin working after a moment.

I come to, still cold. This place is strange. My back still hurts and I'm lying in a pool of blood. Max is nowhere in sight. I turn my head to the side and I'm no longer staring into a light, but at the base of a table, with chairs around it.

"Chairs?" I whisper.

no-more-chianti.livejournal.com

Clarice is in the bar.

She's being social!

Kind of.

... You may be saying to yourself, "Hey ... Clarice is female and Bound. Has she got the Curse? The Dot? The Stranger from Down South? Her Red Friend? Is she menstruating, PMSing, on the rag, a victim of the Red Monster? Is Aunt Flo paying her a visit?"

Well, dear reader.

Decide for yourself.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

Angela Dawn Edmunds, fifteen years old, five-nine, 130 pounds, red-gold hair, blue eyes, sits in the easy chair by the fire.

Her shoes are off and her feet are tucked neatly beneath her. She's nearly to the end of Otherland: City of Golden Shadow, and the next book is waiting in the wings.

There's a glass of iced tea beside her, and upon occasion she sips from it.

She's dressed in black trousers and a purple top that accentuates the paleness of her skin nicely. Her hair is up in a stylishly messy updo.

She's very engrossed in her book, but she'd not mind conversation.

P.S.: Even if she is on her cycle, she won't get weepy unless provoked. Have at. :)

prettymaids

125 years. Thats how long it's been. And it's taken her body a few months to catch up with living. But catch up it did, so Drusilla is sitting curled up on one of the sofa's her hands clutched over her tummy and a large box of chocolates.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

Former Valkyrie in the bar, sitting and looking over a couple pages of notes. Her eyes are narrowed at something, and Svava is tapping her pen against the table. There is a cup of hot chocolate near at hand, and crumbs on a plate give evidence to cookies. If anyone wants to tell her that chocolate is not an acceptable substitute for dinner, they are quite welcome to go jump in the lake. With the shark. Under lots of distress.

For other fun reasons, Svava does look enough like a blonde, former-vampire, in case anyone has any issues about that they would like to try to bring up with her.

someonesdog

Angua enters the bar.

Angua inhales.

Angua says to herself: "well, bugger this."

Angua leaves again.

not-like-lilly.livejournal.com

After spending the morning feeling rather more grouchy than usual and gathering that she certainly wasn't the only one in the bar to feel this way, Petunia decided that tonight would be an excellent time for her to present some specials.

Thus, a new menu has been posted:

Menu for Thursday, February 16

Fruit Salad

Salmon with Basil Cream Sauce

Chicken Breast with Broccoli Pesto

Chocolate Bread and Butter Pudding

Ginger Tea

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

Moody writer inna bar, inna booth, with a cat who keeps sniffing the glass of brandy he's nursing. The writer's changed from his stuffy 1930's clothes to a loose and modern combination of jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie.

Just 'cos he's moody don't mean you can't...attempt to say hello to him. Or the cat.

flybywash

The other day, several things came to Wash's attention again with renewed fervor.

Number one: His pregnant wife is due in three months, give or take a couple weeks.

Number two: Crowley might have said the Washburne branch of the family tree's about as magically inclined as a teapot, but that doesn't really negate the whole "witches and wizards as ancestors" thing, nor, therefore, the possibility -- slim as it might be -- of Naomi clapping her hands and making the food stores explode on her fifth birthday.

Number three: Remember the part where Zoe's giving birth in three months?

There's only one logical course of action.

"Hey, Bar?" Wash asks, gripping the edge of the wooden plank. "Do you have any books on bringing up a witch or wizard baby when you're, uh...not, so much?"

Thirty seconds later, he's huddled in a booth with A Muggle's Guide to Magical Parenting and an expression that's only a teeny bit strung out. He even manages to keep the whimpering down to once every four and a half minutes.

kayip.livejournal.com

Behrooz is idly circling around the lake, watching it a little determinedly.

This may be because the demon rabbits, which he'd barely noticed before, are now kind of bothering him. The dim memories of wolves circling in the backgrounds of his dreams isn't helping.

But he stares at the lake. A lot.

mnt_raph

*Raph walks in from the Staff Hallway.
As per usual, these days at least, he's covered in engine grease.
He's just about to settle onto to a Barstool for a brew and some food when he happens to spot this sign from Beast and this sign from Veronica.

He blinks a few times, before he stands back up and makes his way towards the Lake exit.*

gotta can of spagetti'os onna roof....

*Is what he can be heard muttering before the door slams behind him.
There's only so much information an ex-turtle can take.*

buriedmybrother.livejournal.com

Antigone slips in from outside, dropping into a chair and falling back against the cushions.

She's not tired, really. She rarely is.

But it's rather delicious just to sit like this.

balletrat

*Meg's original plan, in coming downstairs, was to get drunk.

Recent events have only furthered her resolve.

Therefore, after this, Meg can be found at the bar, still covered in stone dust and scratches, drinking a cup of coffee. Into which has been poured a liberal dose of absinthe.*

singlesoledjest.livejournal.com

Mercutio is walking on his hands.

Or at least, he was. He's just rolled to his feet, rubbing his wrists.

wretched-boy.livejournal.com

A young man stumbles through the door to the bar - dark haired, gangly with comparative youth, sprawling headlong into this unexpected way station.

It is not what he has ever been taught to expect, it is not what he had dared dream; and yet. And yet there is nothing of her beloved face. Aye, it is what he was promised, true enough, but like no manner of punishment he has learned from book or play.

He looks up, eyes adjusting to the light, watching the strange figures move, talk... even laugh.

"O, true apothecary, thy drugs are quick!

...What manner of hell is this?"

He gets slowly to his feet, his voice nigh on a whisper, struck almost dumb.

"I pray you, visions, speak."

fire-of-mahal.livejournal.com

The back door opens and there is a faint jingling from a little below waist height on most adult humans; Gimli's come in from the forges, or whatever it is the Dwarf does out there. He's muttering to himself in Khuzdul, so good luck understanding him. On the other hand, he's got a decent bit of dinner and a full tankard to work with, so there's that.

So. Dwarf. On this day of all days.

Any takers?

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells has been busy most of the day, generally well outside the bar. Football, y'know. And distance running. Things like that.

Thus the poor benighted soldier is entirely too wrung out to notice the Ominous Signs as he enters the bar, fetches himself some dinner, and goes looking for a spot to sit.

river_meimei

The door opens, and River steps in.

Calm, and poised. Bare feet feel the floorboards, brush lightly over cracks and ridges. Her eyes slip across the room: the people, the rafters, the chairs and tables and corners.

She's looking for someone.

pure-ebony.livejournal.com

[OOM: A replacement is purchased.]

She's a little surprised when she enters again.

But Bellatrix smiles widely, once that's passed.

Now...well.

Now she knows the rules to play by.

She's still smiling as she gets a mug of hot white chocolate and sits on a couch. Bellatrix drinks, and watches the room with eyes that barely blink.

guppy_sandhu

There is a Guppy by the fire with a small pot of marshmallows, which he is toasting. By this we mean sticking them into the fire until they catch then blowing them out again.

Makes them nice and gooey.

He'll be happy to share.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco stopped down in the bar. Martin was up in his coop again, sleeping.
He walked over to the bar, and noticed the note for him appearing.
He quickly scanned its contents, and crumpled the note savagely in disgust.
He got out his wand, and waved it at the note, Evanesco.
The note promptly vanished, as he put his wand away again.
He went to stalk toward the Security Office, but then a familiar face briefly stopped him.
Tonks? No... he knew that expression, seemed familiar, but so young?
"Aunt Bella????" He debated on walking over, and just decided to go look for Security anyway.

prototype-karr.livejournal.com

KARR is still rather twitchy. Valentine's day has come and gone, much to his relief, but he's noticed how the women of Milliways have been acting lately, and it's put him on edge. The AI parks himself in his favorite spot, his scanner moving rapidly as he eyes the other patrons. For the moment it seems safer than seeking out some hormone-caused fury.

agirllost

[ooc: This is justice: Kim dreams of revenge]

Kim's back in the bar. She's still not hungry, but she's breaking off small pieces of a cookie while she tries to get through another article.

It's really hard to concentrate on schoolwork right now, though.

anythingbutblue

Faye's draped across one of the couches by the fire like she's the Queen of Sheba. On the floor by one end of the couch is half a bottle of wine and her nearly empty glass.

She stretches, yawns, and finally pulls a nail file out of her pocket, giving her fingernails a critical look.

It's been a slow day.

latino_menace

It's pretty unusual for this guy to be seen practising with weapons other than guns, but then, swords are going to be more use to him over the coming years. Ramon figures it'll be best to keep Asandir's lessons in the forefront of his mind though so - one Latin terrorist, outside despite the cold, going through some drills.

He's pretty damn good really. And it's an excellent way to burn off frustrations, he's discovered.

abs-denham.livejournal.com

Abs has stopped sulking now, because his housemates told him it was immature. He is currently at the bar looking at a blue post-it note and drinking a pint of beer.

super-xj9.livejournal.com

Yay!

A female that won't go totally PMS on a guy!

It's a Milliways miracle. Only available at your friendly, neighborhood bar that we all know and love.

Though technically, she can't. Being a robot and all.

Come by and poke!

last-king.livejournal.com

[OOM: The Last Battle. Deals explictly with events in the last book of the Narnia Chronicles.]

--And into a tavern?

There are times when a newcomer's first entrance into Milliways is fairly obvious.

Take, for example, the young man in armor who just came crashing through the door backwards, his hands outstretched as if he'd been holding on to something that is no longer there. He lands in a sprawl, then rolls to his feet with practiced ease--and looks around, confusion and wariness showing plainly on his face.

It's a safe bet this one didn't expect to end up where he is.

[OOC: Not locked, per se, but please ping Catalinaa42 on AIM before tagging? Thanks!]

mnt_mike

This Happy Hour begins not with a bang, but a whimper.
Well, more like a quiet scream.
You know the kind that would be really really loud were you standing next to it, but since it's being muffled by a couple of floors and quite a few walls it only manages to sound like a whisper? Yeah, it's sort of like that. And were you to pay attention to such quiet-scream-like-whispers it might sound like this particular one keeps repeating the word, "crap," over and over and over again. Each time getting that much louder and more distinct, until the sound itself becomes a tangible bright orange blur that whoooshes past you and anime leaps right over the Bar.

"CRAP! Uh...I mean, Happy Hour! YES! Totally Happy Hour. A totally fashionably late on purpose Happy Hour. Yup. Totally just fashion. And to um...commemorate the uh...fashion.
Anyways, Bar is Open!"

He very quickly scribbles on the black board behind him the following specials:

Music
Sex
& Cookies.

e_delmar

There's a man in a bar. This shouldn't really come as a surprise, as there are many men in this particular bar, and this particular man tends to spend time in many bars. But none of them had been like this.

The hat comes off, and he wrinkles it in his hand.

"Well."

[OOC: For ease of the mun's mind, Ennis does not have but a passing resemblance to any other characters portrayed by Mr. Heath Ledger. Also, Ennis is from halfway through the story, so there are bound to be spoilers.]

eternal-boy.livejournal.com

An End

iustus_rex

When Edmund enters Milliways from the House of Arch midafternoon, he seems... terribly preoccupied, really.

He heads over to Bar, and holds a whispered conference of sorts, eventually resulting in a large -- very large -- book appearing on the bartop. He thanks her, and thanks her again when tea is added to his order, before somehow managing to balance the lot of it as he heads for a booth.

One of the couches by the fire would doubtless be more comfortable, but it's much easier to try to keep the contents of the Giant Book a secret if he's burrowed into a booth, and that would seem to be what he's trying to do.