Feb. 21st, 2006
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 01:27 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
uncommongardenr.livejournal.com[OOM: Mary tells Dickon that Colin knows about Milliways.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 01:29 ambackwardname.livejournal.comSometime after his talk with Anna, Campbell Alexander came downstairs from his little corner room again.
This time, with a sign for the noteboard:
ATTN: Those Fond of Dogs
Seven purebred Doberman Pinschers are up for sale by their owners (Campbell Alexander and Isobel Romano, of Rhode Island, Earth, 2005) and will be available to any and all Milliways patrons.
They are bred for show, service or domestic companionship. All are up to date with their shots.
Pricing depends on potential owners.
If interested, please sign below and look for us later -- "we" will probably have a sign and will definitely have a box of puppies.
And then, he's back upstairs again.
This time, with a sign for the noteboard:
Seven purebred Doberman Pinschers are up for sale by their owners (Campbell Alexander and Isobel Romano, of Rhode Island, Earth, 2005) and will be available to any and all Milliways patrons.
They are bred for show, service or domestic companionship. All are up to date with their shots.
Pricing depends on potential owners.
If interested, please sign below and look for us later -- "we" will probably have a sign and will definitely have a box of puppies.
And then, he's back upstairs again.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 01:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gonna_live[It just never stops, does it?
After Kaylee talks to Saionji and finds out a thing or two about his interactions with a fellow named Souji Mikage...
...Kaylee goes home.
Looks like some things are eternal after all.]
After Kaylee talks to Saionji and finds out a thing or two about his interactions with a fellow named Souji Mikage...
...Kaylee goes home.
Looks like some things are eternal after all.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 02:56 amriver_meimei[OOM: The psychic shields Rachel Grey gave River can only last so long before they go away.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 03:19 amtimsbooks.livejournal.comTheory: The bar, not Bar, has a tendency to provide the people who're needed to further personal fulfilment.
Proof: Twice now, Hellspawn has placed ads for people he needed, and they have shown up, almost immediately.
Test: Ask aloud for who is needed, to see whether it works.
Which explains why Hellspawn slumps against the bar, sighs and says
"I really need to talk to Andrew Wells, I sure wish he was around."
And then he waits. Feel free to join him in said waiting. Especially if you are Andrew.
Proof: Twice now, Hellspawn has placed ads for people he needed, and they have shown up, almost immediately.
Test: Ask aloud for who is needed, to see whether it works.
Which explains why Hellspawn slumps against the bar, sighs and says
"I really need to talk to Andrew Wells, I sure wish he was around."
And then he waits. Feel free to join him in said waiting. Especially if you are Andrew.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:44 ami-martha-adams.livejournal.comBefore
Of course, when one is expecting sunlight and, indeed, has taken the first step into the sunlight of the land that one has just finished freeing, it is rather unexpected to go from the first touches of said sun on eyes used to more than two days in the dim light afforded by aged and uncared-for electronics to the somewhat brighter artificial light of a pub.
Rather more disconcerting is the realization that ones boot is not crunching desert dust, but rather has landed firmly on the sort of flooring that suggests civilized workmanship geared more toward comfort and aesthetics than to utilitarian decor.
As she blinks the sun out of her eyes and looks around the dusty and grimy woman in the door makes a face which should not be unknown to most of those around: it is the "Where am I, and how did I get here?" look.
She turns, opens the door behind her, and looks out on the desert she was attempting to walk into. Thus reassured that she can, in fact, leave if she wants to she turns back to the bar and begins looking for someone who can explain what in the world is going on.
Of course, when one is expecting sunlight and, indeed, has taken the first step into the sunlight of the land that one has just finished freeing, it is rather unexpected to go from the first touches of said sun on eyes used to more than two days in the dim light afforded by aged and uncared-for electronics to the somewhat brighter artificial light of a pub.
Rather more disconcerting is the realization that ones boot is not crunching desert dust, but rather has landed firmly on the sort of flooring that suggests civilized workmanship geared more toward comfort and aesthetics than to utilitarian decor.
As she blinks the sun out of her eyes and looks around the dusty and grimy woman in the door makes a face which should not be unknown to most of those around: it is the "Where am I, and how did I get here?" look.
She turns, opens the door behind her, and looks out on the desert she was attempting to walk into. Thus reassured that she can, in fact, leave if she wants to she turns back to the bar and begins looking for someone who can explain what in the world is going on.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 07:03 amoldestcharmed1.livejournal.comHere is someone that hasn't been seen in a while. It's Prue Halliwell. She has been back longer then one might have realized as she has spent most of her time in the library, both working on the Book of Shadows as well as reading up on the magics of other worlds.
At the moment she is sitting in a booth with several magic texts on light magic as well as banishment magic. There is of course a cup of coffee in hand. Old habits and all that. SInce she has been at this for over a week she could probably use some distractions.
At the moment she is sitting in a booth with several magic texts on light magic as well as banishment magic. There is of course a cup of coffee in hand. Old habits and all that. SInce she has been at this for over a week she could probably use some distractions.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 07:05 amprince-arithon.livejournal.comArithon slips into the bar. He does not have his sword, but that doesn't mean he isn't wary and armed.
It just means that he's counting on things that people can't take away from him, in the event that it is needed.
It just means that he's counting on things that people can't take away from him, in the event that it is needed.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:02 amgentleprince.livejournal.comPrince!
Bar!
Coffee!
Apricots!
Are you excited yet!!
Yours for the next eleven hours. Have at him.
[ooc:And mun must plead slowtime for about an hour, perhaps less. Back by 1:30 pm EST]
Bar!
Coffee!
Apricots!
Are you excited yet!!
Yours for the next eleven hours. Have at him.
[ooc:
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:05 amvenusadept_2The door shimmers with several colors of light, then opens. Felix steps through, looking expectant. When the place he's stepping into does turn out to be Milliways he grins. It worked.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:14 amwithamagicwordBilly sits in the rafters, in shadows, crying. He knew this was coming, he even knew why and what would happen. He had seen it before. It still didnt make it any easier. Barry is gone, a friend is gone and a hero is gone, and he hates it, even as he knows it had to happen. So he cries and the shadows conceal him to most eyes.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:22 aminquisitiveheroHank sits at the Bar, his usual large mug of coffee at hand, his eyes overbright, and his shoulders almost-slumped. He is mentally re-running the encounters, the days, the moments, and just nodding as he does. Nonetheless, his eyes glance around the Bar now and then, and he sighs.
No peace lasts forever/ no break ever endures/ no moment ever lasts/ nor any miracle cures./
All the body can do is move on/ all the spirit can do is live./ All the heart can do is shut down/ or give all that it has to give.
So Hank sits there and remembers a good man, and thinks of a young friend, and wonders about the past and the future, and sips his coffee.
No peace lasts forever/ no break ever endures/ no moment ever lasts/ nor any miracle cures./
All the body can do is move on/ all the spirit can do is live./ All the heart can do is shut down/ or give all that it has to give.
So Hank sits there and remembers a good man, and thinks of a young friend, and wonders about the past and the future, and sips his coffee.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:34 amknight-sparhawk.livejournal.comSparhawk rides Faran, clearing his head with a morning ride.
The snow is still there and colds winds too, but, both of them feel a break in the cold here and Sparhawk wonders, if, back home, the cold will break soon.
Bundled up, on Faran's back, he sighs as they swing around at the far edge of the Lake and start back again, Faran moving at a canter.
Sparhawk is in a somewhat better mood than he has been and would welcome a disturbance or distraction.
The snow is still there and colds winds too, but, both of them feel a break in the cold here and Sparhawk wonders, if, back home, the cold will break soon.
Bundled up, on Faran's back, he sighs as they swing around at the far edge of the Lake and start back again, Faran moving at a canter.
Sparhawk is in a somewhat better mood than he has been and would welcome a disturbance or distraction.
Exit Post - Barry Allen
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:11 amsilverageflash.livejournal.comMorning, February 21...
The sun shone brightly as Barry and Sara walked to the path around the lake, hand in hand. He was dressed in the red costume he made famous, wearing it for the first time in months. He looked around at the crowd gathered to see him off. It wasn’t a large crowd - merely the right one. He smiled sadly but with pride at the friendships he had made, at the lives he had touched and that had touched his.
“Um, hullo,” he said to get the group’s attention. “I want to thank all of you for coming out to see me off. I know this is not the easiest thing for any of you, so it…it’s good that you came.” His words are not particularly eloquent. But when you are trying not to cry, it’s hard to talk.
“I guess I know how Lou Gehrig felt. Because I can’t help but feel I’m pretty lucky to have made such friends here. To have gotten the chance to meet such people as you. To have seen the worlds I have, to have done what I did here…I am very lucky indeed.
“I wish all of you the best, always. May the path from the Bar only be a happy one. Godspeed” He looks for a few specifc people.
“Wally, I’ll see you on the other side. Make me proud, as always.” Barry grins his successor and give him a hug.
“Stephanie…do good. Always.” The hug he shares with her is that of a father and a daughter, and he notices how hard this is for her. He wishes he could have spared her this. Wishes he could be here for her. But he knows she wil never be alone here. He smiles at Violet, and hopes that the first of his proteges here will be there for the second.
Finally, he turns back to Sara, and embraces her. The hug lasts forever. The hug is far too short. He gives her that last kiss. A kiss full of love and passion, a kiss that says what mere words cannot. But he must try some words as well.
“I love you, and always will. Remember that. Forever.” The words are a whisper for her alone.
He ends the embrace and looks away from everyone. Looks only at the path. And runs.
Within seconds he is past 100 mph, past 200, reaching up to 350. A red blur rcing around the lake. Suddenly, he accelerates beyond what can be measured, to nearly infintite speeds. But he leaves no wake, no damage. He is crossing over. The Speed Force is taking him home.
There is a bolt of lightning, and a crack of thunder. And along the path, there is a red costume with a lightning bolt on its chest.
Barry Allen is gone.
The sun shone brightly as Barry and Sara walked to the path around the lake, hand in hand. He was dressed in the red costume he made famous, wearing it for the first time in months. He looked around at the crowd gathered to see him off. It wasn’t a large crowd - merely the right one. He smiled sadly but with pride at the friendships he had made, at the lives he had touched and that had touched his.
“Um, hullo,” he said to get the group’s attention. “I want to thank all of you for coming out to see me off. I know this is not the easiest thing for any of you, so it…it’s good that you came.” His words are not particularly eloquent. But when you are trying not to cry, it’s hard to talk.
“I guess I know how Lou Gehrig felt. Because I can’t help but feel I’m pretty lucky to have made such friends here. To have gotten the chance to meet such people as you. To have seen the worlds I have, to have done what I did here…I am very lucky indeed.
“I wish all of you the best, always. May the path from the Bar only be a happy one. Godspeed” He looks for a few specifc people.
“Wally, I’ll see you on the other side. Make me proud, as always.” Barry grins his successor and give him a hug.
“Stephanie…do good. Always.” The hug he shares with her is that of a father and a daughter, and he notices how hard this is for her. He wishes he could have spared her this. Wishes he could be here for her. But he knows she wil never be alone here. He smiles at Violet, and hopes that the first of his proteges here will be there for the second.
Finally, he turns back to Sara, and embraces her. The hug lasts forever. The hug is far too short. He gives her that last kiss. A kiss full of love and passion, a kiss that says what mere words cannot. But he must try some words as well.
“I love you, and always will. Remember that. Forever.” The words are a whisper for her alone.
He ends the embrace and looks away from everyone. Looks only at the path. And runs.
Within seconds he is past 100 mph, past 200, reaching up to 350. A red blur rcing around the lake. Suddenly, he accelerates beyond what can be measured, to nearly infintite speeds. But he leaves no wake, no damage. He is crossing over. The Speed Force is taking him home.
There is a bolt of lightning, and a crack of thunder. And along the path, there is a red costume with a lightning bolt on its chest.
Barry Allen is gone.
In memory...
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:53 amlt-naraht.livejournal.comIt is a rather subdued Horta who enters the Bar from the back door. Naraht has just seen a very good friend literally run into Eternity's embrace. He knew it was coming, but that doesn't help much.
Many cultures consider getting totally plastered before noon to be strange if not competely unacceptable. Well, as far as Naraht is concerned, those cultures can take a walk out the nearest airlock because the wake starts now, hour of the day be damned.
He goes to the Bar and orders a huge amount of graphite along with several bottles of whiskey, scotch and other liquors. It's so out of character that it takes some wheedling before she lets him have it. He takes the tray a table in the center of the room, cranks his voder volume up and announces his intensions to the bar at large.
"If anyone would care to join me in consuming intoxicants in honor of my friend Barry Allen, you would be most welcome."
He holds up a chunk of graphite expectantly.
Many cultures consider getting totally plastered before noon to be strange if not competely unacceptable. Well, as far as Naraht is concerned, those cultures can take a walk out the nearest airlock because the wake starts now, hour of the day be damned.
He goes to the Bar and orders a huge amount of graphite along with several bottles of whiskey, scotch and other liquors. It's so out of character that it takes some wheedling before she lets him have it. He takes the tray a table in the center of the room, cranks his voder volume up and announces his intensions to the bar at large.
"If anyone would care to join me in consuming intoxicants in honor of my friend Barry Allen, you would be most welcome."
He holds up a chunk of graphite expectantly.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:54 amsilverageflash.livejournal.comOOM: The last run of Barry Allen
[ooc: contains spoilers for Infinite Crisis among other Flash-related stories.]
[ooc: contains spoilers for Infinite Crisis among other Flash-related stories.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:58 amlvpd_sidle[After he leaves.]
Sara Sidle is curled up on a couch, clutching a bright costume to her chest.
She is sobbing her heart out. And making no sound.
[ooc: Only people Sara knows, say thankya. She's not in any shape to be making new acquaintances. Also, slowtime between 11:00am CST and 2:00pm CST for class.]
Sara Sidle is curled up on a couch, clutching a bright costume to her chest.
She is sobbing her heart out. And making no sound.
[ooc: Only people Sara knows, say thankya. She's not in any shape to be making new acquaintances. Also, slowtime between 11:00am CST and 2:00pm CST for class.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:01 amprince-luna.livejournal.comDespite everything from the other day the Ventrue Prince is still confused. He's not really messed with the bar that much. Only because he's really not so sure what to think about a bar that makes things just come up out of nowhere. Means he's more than likely not fed this morning. Silly vampire. But that's quite alright. Before he ended up in Milliways he'd fed. So he would be sustained... well, for a time being anyways. Right now he's sitting in a chair over by the fire. Trying to understand all of this... not only that but Daedalus' words have him confused. It's obvious that it isn't quite his Daedalus after hearing him mention something about the Brujah having a new Primogen. Because where he's from the Brujah's Primogen is still Eddie Fiori.
Bug the vampire if you want, he won't bite. Company might actually be good for him.
Bug the vampire if you want, he won't bite. Company might actually be good for him.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:18 amnot-broomboy.livejournal.comThey sit quietly on one of the couches near the fire, chatting. Anyone who has seen Liir in the bar these past months, anyone who has spoken to him or even gotten him to speak back would probably be surprised at his animation, at how he speaks and moves and seems so very present. It has a great deal to do with the blond man sitting next to him sipping carefully at a cup of tea, listening quite intently.
There is no cigarette smoke, no verse, no morose and winding thoughts. Merely tea and conversation and a smile that will not go away even as his jaw aches fiercely from it.
There is no cigarette smoke, no verse, no morose and winding thoughts. Merely tea and conversation and a smile that will not go away even as his jaw aches fiercely from it.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 11:22 amtransgenic-max.livejournal.comBooth, coffee, notebook. It's business as usual for Max this morning. Except, perhaps, that she seems likely to actually finish the coffee before it goes stone cold, and the notebook's being ignored in favour of people-watching.
Actually, the latter bit's pretty normal, too.
Actually, the latter bit's pretty normal, too.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 11:27 ampendragon-son.livejournal.comThe door opens, as it does every hour of every day, and someone steps in. Hardly an unusual occurance, but the boy-prince who just stepped through would strongly disagree.
This is not his twin's room, and as that's where he was heading...
Melehan, son of Mordred and his lady-wife Cywyllog, is staring at the bar in utter shock. Shaking his head slowly, he pinches his arm in an attempt to wake up. No such luck. He takes a step forward, still staring with too-wide dark eyes, and wondering why the hell this place seems vaugely familiar.
Slowly, knowing it's no good, he whispers,
"Melou?"
[ooc: I'm here for just under an hour, then I'm vanishing for an hour due to class, but then I'll be back.]
This is not his twin's room, and as that's where he was heading...
Melehan, son of Mordred and his lady-wife Cywyllog, is staring at the bar in utter shock. Shaking his head slowly, he pinches his arm in an attempt to wake up. No such luck. He takes a step forward, still staring with too-wide dark eyes, and wondering why the hell this place seems vaugely familiar.
Slowly, knowing it's no good, he whispers,
"Melou?"
[ooc: I'm here for just under an hour, then I'm vanishing for an hour due to class, but then I'll be back.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 11:30 ammumbling-truth.livejournal.com(Millitimed to the evening of the 19th)
OOM: Todd meets Mary, they talk about gardening, and elephants. Then, after a brief argument about the idea of an elephant out back in the cold, Todd convinces Mary to go outside to search for it. Of course, it being nighttime, and heading to the woods, they ran into a demonic bunny who chased after them (with pauses of snacking on Mary's boot and Todd's leg) back to the bar. Mary then helps Todd to the infirmary where Nita successfully heals his leg, and checks after Mary as well.
OOM: Todd meets Mary, they talk about gardening, and elephants. Then, after a brief argument about the idea of an elephant out back in the cold, Todd convinces Mary to go outside to search for it. Of course, it being nighttime, and heading to the woods, they ran into a demonic bunny who chased after them (with pauses of snacking on Mary's boot and Todd's leg) back to the bar. Mary then helps Todd to the infirmary where Nita successfully heals his leg, and checks after Mary as well.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 12:00 pmamanda-darieux.livejournal.comAmanda flutters up to the Bar proper where she asks Bar for a pen and Paper. it arrives and she puts the pen in her beak and she writes a note.
( Paige Matthews )
Putting down the pen. lady Bar could you please deliver this to Paige as soon as possible? The letter is absorbed and Amanda flies up into the rafters to wait.
( Paige Matthews )
Putting down the pen. lady Bar could you please deliver this to Paige as soon as possible? The letter is absorbed and Amanda flies up into the rafters to wait.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 12:10 pmfrom-topside.livejournal.comThere be a Perunu inna bar. Witha baby. And a resume.
...what, just because he's a successful business man doesn't mean he's about to muck up the chance to be a high priest. Especially considering the possible biscuits.
...what, just because he's a successful business man doesn't mean he's about to muck up the chance to be a high priest. Especially considering the possible biscuits.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 01:18 pmthelastearthman.livejournal.comArthur hasn't been sleeping well lately. Which is why he's curled up in a booth with Kenna at his feet, using his bundled-up dressing gown as a makeshift pillow.
Feel free to say hi, but you may not get a coherent response.
Feel free to say hi, but you may not get a coherent response.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 01:19 pmosuwarigirl.livejournal.comBecause mun hasn't got enough he's fighting with on his system...
Kagome inna bar...well, kind of. She's shooting arrows at a badly made target set up between two trees. Hey! You gotta practice this kind of thing some time, right?
She wouldn't mind some company. Come poke!
Kagome inna bar...well, kind of. She's shooting arrows at a badly made target set up between two trees. Hey! You gotta practice this kind of thing some time, right?
She wouldn't mind some company. Come poke!
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 01:39 pmgoodbyesandusky.livejournal.comThere was a gothboy over in the corner, tucked away into a booth, though you wouldn't know it to look at him, except maybe for the chipped nailpolish, black of course, and maybe a hint of smudged liner around his eyes.
Well, and the fact that he was dressed head to toe in black, but there were other people besides goths who did that, right? Like assassins and theives and things?
He was going through another sleepless patch, or maybe an extention of the same one, sometimes it was difficult to tell really. He had cocoa, and a bowl of macaroni that was half-eaten. He also had a notebook, but mostly he was just staring at it, not writing in it.
(lunchtime, 'bout fifteen minutes left, then slowtimey, if that works for you, tag away)
Well, and the fact that he was dressed head to toe in black, but there were other people besides goths who did that, right? Like assassins and theives and things?
He was going through another sleepless patch, or maybe an extention of the same one, sometimes it was difficult to tell really. He had cocoa, and a bowl of macaroni that was half-eaten. He also had a notebook, but mostly he was just staring at it, not writing in it.
(lunchtime, 'bout fifteen minutes left, then slowtimey, if that works for you, tag away)
Dual Enterance
Feb. 21st, 2006 01:55 pmnotanormalfox.livejournal.comPre-Bar.
The door swung open and a weak beam of light penetrated the room followed by a second light-much stronger-sillouette.
FBI agent Fox Mulder frowned, Shutting his light off Mulder pushed the door open wider-looking to the petite Woman next to him.
"....I don't remember-didya see a Bar on the way into the building?"
A Hand went back to his gun then retracted. His mind went back to the feeling he'd had before opening the door, that feeling of anticipation and-
"Scully?" Mulder looked to his partner, "Your thoughts?"
The door swung open and a weak beam of light penetrated the room followed by a second light-much stronger-sillouette.
FBI agent Fox Mulder frowned, Shutting his light off Mulder pushed the door open wider-looking to the petite Woman next to him.
"....I don't remember-didya see a Bar on the way into the building?"
A Hand went back to his gun then retracted. His mind went back to the feeling he'd had before opening the door, that feeling of anticipation and-
"Scully?" Mulder looked to his partner, "Your thoughts?"
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 02:20 pmelvish-hunter.livejournal.comThe Hunter is not yet sure if she likes this place. Her Master is here, which is good, but there is so much going on. She has to focus, find something to do, otherwise, her mind will drift as it did for many years.
Thankfully, a something has been found. She currently sits at a table, sharpening her knives. Her bow, arrows and sword lie on the table itself. She'll get to those later.
Thankfully, a something has been found. She currently sits at a table, sharpening her knives. Her bow, arrows and sword lie on the table itself. She'll get to those later.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 02:28 pmsuchagoodchild.livejournal.comIt was a Monican ploy. It had to be.
How else to explain how a car door could open into such a strange place?
Trevor very nearly closes the door again and tells the driver to move on. But, if it is a Monican ploy (as it surely must be), then he owes it to his people to uncover and utterly destroy it.
Society must be preserved. Bregna must be protected.
So, Chairman Goodchild gets out of his car and steps into the establishment. It appeared to be a bar or tavern of some sort, highly archaic design.
What could they be up to now? he wonders as he wanders.
How else to explain how a car door could open into such a strange place?
Trevor very nearly closes the door again and tells the driver to move on. But, if it is a Monican ploy (as it surely must be), then he owes it to his people to uncover and utterly destroy it.
Society must be preserved. Bregna must be protected.
So, Chairman Goodchild gets out of his car and steps into the establishment. It appeared to be a bar or tavern of some sort, highly archaic design.
What could they be up to now? he wonders as he wanders.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 02:39 pmhonest-preston.livejournal.comPreston has, yet again, waltzed into Milliways when he meant to be elsewhere. He does not look as surprised about this as he did yesterday; in fact, he looks cheered as he walks to the bar and orders a milkshake.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 03:06 pmkitchen_maidAmy is out in the stables again. She's dragged a bale of hay to just outside her horse's stall, and is sitting on it, reading to the horse from a book of legends and fables from Phantasmorania.
She's hoping she'll find something that would be a good horse name, or that the horse will seem to like, but so far, the horse mostly seems interested in figuring out why Amy has decided to sit on her lunch.
"Don't you like any of these?" Amy asks, hopefully.
The horse sniffs what seems to be a negative.
Amy, with a sigh, starts the next story.
She'd probably quite like to be interrupted.
[ooc:And the mun flees for dinner. Back later.Back.]
She's hoping she'll find something that would be a good horse name, or that the horse will seem to like, but so far, the horse mostly seems interested in figuring out why Amy has decided to sit on her lunch.
"Don't you like any of these?" Amy asks, hopefully.
The horse sniffs what seems to be a negative.
Amy, with a sigh, starts the next story.
She'd probably quite like to be interrupted.
[ooc:
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 04:04 pmmilkbonesoldier.livejournal.comLast night was a philosophical night for Sergeant Wells, which is a euphemistic way of explaining why he looks a bit ground down this morning. Ah, well, nothing a fair amount of tea can't overcome, right?
... or something.
Anyway, he's awake and in the Bar, and considering a number of possibilities. They could be as simple as breakfast, or as complicated as what he's been doing in that notebook of his.
... or something.
Anyway, he's awake and in the Bar, and considering a number of possibilities. They could be as simple as breakfast, or as complicated as what he's been doing in that notebook of his.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 04:06 pmroyal-guarantor.livejournal.comAfter the incident with Steph, Roshaun and Dairine emerge from the office and head for the Bar.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 04:24 pmguppy_sandhu[ooc: After Barry's departure]
At first he hadn't been able to move a muscle.
Eventually he sank down to the ground below the tree he'd been standing next to.
Now he is curled in a little ball, chin resting on his knees and eyes still staring at the spot where the costume lay.
At first he hadn't been able to move a muscle.
Eventually he sank down to the ground below the tree he'd been standing next to.
Now he is curled in a little ball, chin resting on his knees and eyes still staring at the spot where the costume lay.
Long time no see.
Feb. 21st, 2006 04:48 pmmd_donighalHow did he know he needed to be there? Or did he know?
Whatever the case, as soon as the man in the gray suit opens the door, he senses something. To his aetheric vision, a familiar undertone at the intersection of Electro and Weak is... gone.
"Electricity always travels in a circuit," he says to nobody in particular. "And lightning can strike twice in the same place." He bows his head a moment. "Godspeed."
Since he wasn't in the bar when Naraht announced the wake, that can't be how he knows to head towards that table. It must be somebody mentioning Barry's name that tips him off... unless it's one of those nova things, anyway. Whatever the reason, human senses or superhuman, it takes him only a moment to realize where he needs to go and start going there.
Whatever the case, as soon as the man in the gray suit opens the door, he senses something. To his aetheric vision, a familiar undertone at the intersection of Electro and Weak is... gone.
"Electricity always travels in a circuit," he says to nobody in particular. "And lightning can strike twice in the same place." He bows his head a moment. "Godspeed."
Since he wasn't in the bar when Naraht announced the wake, that can't be how he knows to head towards that table. It must be somebody mentioning Barry's name that tips him off... unless it's one of those nova things, anyway. Whatever the reason, human senses or superhuman, it takes him only a moment to realize where he needs to go and start going there.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 05:14 pmfellowship-of-7.livejournal.comThe Fellowship Sorcerer has yet to figure anything out. He is in the bar, again, with hot cider and an expression which could, in some circles, be considered pensive.
Most of those circles would involve gargoyles, granite walls, or other such non-living things. No offense, of course, meant to those who happen to be living gargoyles.
He is available for both Plot and People Who Have Nothing Else To Do.
Most of those circles would involve gargoyles, granite walls, or other such non-living things. No offense, of course, meant to those who happen to be living gargoyles.
He is available for both Plot and People Who Have Nothing Else To Do.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 05:21 pmnotashortbean.livejournal.comEd in the bar, with a taped up broken nose and an annoyed look on his face. He's not doing anything except keeping an eye on the bar - he's gotta find a member of Security as soon as possible.
He probably shouldn't even have gone home last night, but he couldn't help it. He just hopes it's not too late to do something about all of this crap.
Feel free to come around - he won't snap at anybody, honest. He could use a little cheering up.
He probably shouldn't even have gone home last night, but he couldn't help it. He just hopes it's not too late to do something about all of this crap.
Feel free to come around - he won't snap at anybody, honest. He could use a little cheering up.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 05:34 pmbeautiful_ann[OOC: Slowtime looms in the future, FYI. In the next hour or so.]
Really, the first thing that strikes Ann Darrow ought to be that the dressing room in Manny's theater has just turned into a bar. Especially considering the fundamental illegality of such an arrangement.
But instead, it's the overwhelming scent of rich, cooked food, followed closely by the scent of alcohol, that takes her attention and makes her momentarily a little weak in the knees. After all, the last thing she had to eat was an apple, this morning.
It takes her a moment to get her stomach back under control, but once she's certain it won't embarrass her by growling, she takes a look around.
"When, exactly, did our dressing room turn into a speakeasy?" Beat. "Well, one with a bar, anyway."
Really, the first thing that strikes Ann Darrow ought to be that the dressing room in Manny's theater has just turned into a bar. Especially considering the fundamental illegality of such an arrangement.
But instead, it's the overwhelming scent of rich, cooked food, followed closely by the scent of alcohol, that takes her attention and makes her momentarily a little weak in the knees. After all, the last thing she had to eat was an apple, this morning.
It takes her a moment to get her stomach back under control, but once she's certain it won't embarrass her by growling, she takes a look around.
"When, exactly, did our dressing room turn into a speakeasy?" Beat. "Well, one with a bar, anyway."
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 05:47 pmqsilver-md.livejournal.comKevin is not coming downstairs today.
Those who might know where his room is can come and see him, though.
Those who might know where his room is can come and see him, though.
Entrance Post
Feb. 21st, 2006 05:59 pmjeanluc-1701.livejournal.com[OOM: In the Nexus]
The Door opens. Beyond can be seen a room decorated for Christmas. Though the architecture and furniture are nineteenth-century, some of the decorations and toys could not be made by that level of technology.
The sounds of laughter and friendly conversation filter through from an adjoining room.
A hawk cries. As it does so, a man steps through the Door, which closes behind him.
This man is wearing a red-and-black uniform. On the collar are four pips, indicators of the rank of Captain. There is a commbadge on his chest; a silver chevron atop a gold rectangle. Yes, Jean-Luc Picard has come to Milliways.
After a moment he says "This doesn't feel like the Nexus. Q! Is this your doing?"
The Door opens. Beyond can be seen a room decorated for Christmas. Though the architecture and furniture are nineteenth-century, some of the decorations and toys could not be made by that level of technology.
The sounds of laughter and friendly conversation filter through from an adjoining room.
A hawk cries. As it does so, a man steps through the Door, which closes behind him.
This man is wearing a red-and-black uniform. On the collar are four pips, indicators of the rank of Captain. There is a commbadge on his chest; a silver chevron atop a gold rectangle. Yes, Jean-Luc Picard has come to Milliways.
After a moment he says "This doesn't feel like the Nexus. Q! Is this your doing?"
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:10 pmvenusadept_2Felix is still around. He's currently attempting to figure out how to control the singing cube he got from Bar a while back. So far he hasn't made significant progress.
Anyone want to help?
Anyone want to help?
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:28 pmterror-soars.livejournal.com"WHY DO THE MUSHROOMS FLY?!"
No, Terrorsaur doesn't care about the state of your ear-drums. He's too furious to care. So furious that he drops the early 90s Gameboy he'd been playing with on the floor. JUST TO SPITE IT.
He'll calm down in a moment. Feel free to react before that.
No, Terrorsaur doesn't care about the state of your ear-drums. He's too furious to care. So furious that he drops the early 90s Gameboy he'd been playing with on the floor. JUST TO SPITE IT.
He'll calm down in a moment. Feel free to react before that.
Matilda Meets Milliways
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:31 pmprecocioustilda.livejournal.com[OOC: It's my first time at Milliways. Standard disclaimers, nervous wibbling, etc. all apply. Especially the wibbling.]
The door opens and in walks Matilda. The book she's holding in both hands and reading intently* probably explains why she exhibits no surprise; it's not likely that she'll even notice she's no longer in her and Miss Honey's new house until she bumps into someone. Feel free to be bumped into.
*A nameless translation of Beowulf obtained from the house library.
The door opens and in walks Matilda. The book she's holding in both hands and reading intently* probably explains why she exhibits no surprise; it's not likely that she'll even notice she's no longer in her and Miss Honey's new house until she bumps into someone. Feel free to be bumped into.
*A nameless translation of Beowulf obtained from the house library.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:49 pmblueskinnedboy.livejournal.comChris is drinking an apple martini and humming. He's normally a happy guy anyway--being a divine emobidment of joy and all--but lately? Things have been particularly pleasing.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:49 pmballetrat*Meg's sitting at a booth in the back corner of the bar, with a cup of coffee and a history book she is really making an earnest effort to attend to. To see the region of the door from this particular booth, one would have to crane one's neck and lean out to stare around all the other booths, not to mention the various people in-between.
The positioning is deliberate.
Glancing in the direction of the door every other minute is, Meg feels, a habit of which she should break herself as quickly as possible.
. . . so far, she's not being terribly successful.
The positioning is deliberate.
Glancing in the direction of the door every other minute is, Meg feels, a habit of which she should break herself as quickly as possible.
. . . so far, she's not being terribly successful.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:50 pmdalekity.livejournal.comThe Dalek has made extra effort today. It has a sign up saying 'One therapy session and you may be entered for a prize. Two therapy sessions and you're guaranteed to win the competition and get the prize.' There is an plastic figurine of the Ninth Doctor on the table, with a post-it note with the word 'PRIZE' on it taped to the figurine's face.
There's also a bowl of fruit and a bottle of orange juice and glasses on the table. Off to one side, there's a stereo playing soothing dolphin noises. Nearly deafeningly loudly.
There's also a bowl of fruit and a bottle of orange juice and glasses on the table. Off to one side, there's a stereo playing soothing dolphin noises. Nearly deafeningly loudly.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 06:51 pmlethe-forgets.livejournal.comSprawled comfortably on a couch somewhere near the window is a red-headed nymph, glancing confusedly between what appears to be a watch and the darkness outside. Judging from the mildly discontented frown, technology and the Underworld do not exactly get along.
Some company , however, would certainly clear up any bad mood that may be lingering - so feel free to pop over and ask her why time is so perplexing.
Some company , however, would certainly clear up any bad mood that may be lingering - so feel free to pop over and ask her why time is so perplexing.
confinedinside.livejournal.comA cold, invisible wind pressed itself onto Henry's face as he submerged deeper into the eerie hole that appeared from his bathroom some three days after he'd been trapped in his apartment without contact from the outside world. Venturing forth in this almost cave-like hole was no different from the previous trips he'd taken down into the world of nightmares, but that dread of adrenaline and fear never left him. Closer, the light at the end of the tunnel grew as Henry Townshend had reached his destination, but the sudden brightness soon became a dull color that faded out into darkness...
The same cold chill surrounded his body as Henry opened his eyes and found himself lying in a ditch. Almost expecting to see a vivid view of horrible images, Henry instead saw a quant building with the words "Milliways" etched onto the sign above. Last time Henry had seen a bar, it had been just as desolate as his apartment. But stepping inside the warm, musty area, Henry knew this place was different, if not a little comforting to be in the company of living humans. Yet he stood, confusion of his whereabouts still etched in his head. Where was he?
The same cold chill surrounded his body as Henry opened his eyes and found himself lying in a ditch. Almost expecting to see a vivid view of horrible images, Henry instead saw a quant building with the words "Milliways" etched onto the sign above. Last time Henry had seen a bar, it had been just as desolate as his apartment. But stepping inside the warm, musty area, Henry knew this place was different, if not a little comforting to be in the company of living humans. Yet he stood, confusion of his whereabouts still etched in his head. Where was he?
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 07:19 pmalwaysroomforhopeShe's fingering a sharp batarang idly. She's seen her target that filthy bastard he's never gonna get another chance to hurt anyone dammit anyone and she's watched him enough to figure she's got a fairly good idea of his weaknesses.
Now she's just got to figure out how to kill him kill him kill him put him out of action.
And after the Ed thread? She's sitting on the floor near the bar, blood on her face and bruises on her arms and teartracks on her cheeks. But the glint of homicidal determination in her eye? That hasn't changed.
Re-entrance
Feb. 21st, 2006 07:27 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_righthandman_/It's been a long, hard day at work for Chase, and he's in a bad mood.
Which is why, when the door that should lead into his house leads into Milliways instead and promptly melts away behind him, his feelings about it are slightly mixed, but the overriding one is Vacation time. Sweet.
He slides into a booth and manages a smile at the waitrat he orders his cheeseburger, onion rings and beer from.
[OOC: Slowtime probably necessary and responses may be slow, as mun is AP History's bitch tonight.]
Which is why, when the door that should lead into his house leads into Milliways instead and promptly melts away behind him, his feelings about it are slightly mixed, but the overriding one is Vacation time. Sweet.
He slides into a booth and manages a smile at the waitrat he orders his cheeseburger, onion rings and beer from.
[OOC: Slowtime probably necessary and responses may be slow, as mun is AP History's bitch tonight.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 07:28 pmplant-alchemist.livejournal.comOOM: [Russell goes home...for one day.]
It just so happens that Russell was wondering about how the whole door to Milliways thing works right as he opened the door to his room.
Silly Russell, now you're stuck in a bar again.
Except for this time the door didn't disappear. And Russell has his battered old notebook and pencil with him. And chalk. Just in case he has to use alchemy.
Russell decides to stay anyway, he's more prepared this time and, really, the bar is as good a place as any to go over his notes.
It just so happens that Russell was wondering about how the whole door to Milliways thing works right as he opened the door to his room.
Silly Russell, now you're stuck in a bar again.
Except for this time the door didn't disappear. And Russell has his battered old notebook and pencil with him. And chalk. Just in case he has to use alchemy.
Russell decides to stay anyway, he's more prepared this time and, really, the bar is as good a place as any to go over his notes.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 07:33 pmshuftiThe door opens and an arrow shoots through, smashing an isolated beer glass. A second or two later Shufti dives through the door, making quite a good roll before realising that this isn't the forest, losing concentration and falling over.
Straightening up, the crossbow is returned to the tatty belt, and the obviously malnourished kid ducks down behind the nearest booth.
Nine mouths to feed, and only boiled horsemeat for dinner.
Straightening up, the crossbow is returned to the tatty belt, and the obviously malnourished kid ducks down behind the nearest booth.
Nine mouths to feed, and only boiled horsemeat for dinner.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:05 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_lady_death/Lady Death floats into the bar. In one timeline, she floats over to Sunny. In this one, she floats over to the bar to order a glass of mead.
She turns and looks around at the others in the bar, silver-eyed gaze flicking from patron to patron.
She turns and looks around at the others in the bar, silver-eyed gaze flicking from patron to patron.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:09 pmwithamagicword[OOM: Hope, Faith, and Healing - The Curing of Billy Batson: In which Aziraphael cures Billy Batson of his Ethereal-caused trouble, and faith is renewed. Millitimed to Febuary 19th-ish.]
Barmaid on Duty!
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:12 pmmaid-of-astolat.livejournal.com[ELAINE enters from stairs upper right. She is dressed as a WAITRESS. She picks up a tray from BAR and waits in front of it.]
ELAINE (cheerfully): How may I help you?
ELAINE (cheerfully): How may I help you?
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:15 pmangela-edmunds.livejournal.comAngie's feeling much better tonight, though she still looks a little peaky when she comes back into the bar.
However, there is someone that she spots almost immediately that makes her very happy. She rushes over.
"Daddy!"
However, there is someone that she spots almost immediately that makes her very happy. She rushes over.
"Daddy!"
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:17 pmagent-seven.livejournal.com[Pre-Milliways: Distractions]
There's not a pop, a whoosh of air, or any other warning. The space in front of the door is simply empty... and then it's not.
It's actually occupied by a tall, leggy brunette clutching a round mirror roughly a foot across. The woman drops into a defensive crouch, snapping the attached cover over the mirror as she does so.
Seven has no idea where she is, but you don't get to be a highly respected member of the Obsidian Order without a certain gift for improvisation and adaptability. So, when no threat is immediately apparent, she stands up slowly and takes a more appraising look at her surroundings.
There's not a pop, a whoosh of air, or any other warning. The space in front of the door is simply empty... and then it's not.
It's actually occupied by a tall, leggy brunette clutching a round mirror roughly a foot across. The woman drops into a defensive crouch, snapping the attached cover over the mirror as she does so.
Seven has no idea where she is, but you don't get to be a highly respected member of the Obsidian Order without a certain gift for improvisation and adaptability. So, when no threat is immediately apparent, she stands up slowly and takes a more appraising look at her surroundings.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:22 pmthe_antiangstAngel, couch by fireplace, pizza and hot chocolate (what?), notebook, somewhat discontent expression.
He'll be fine once he gets things written down, really. Meanwhile, he could probably use a distraction.
He'll be fine once he gets things written down, really. Meanwhile, he could probably use a distraction.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:24 pmwalker-cain.livejournal.comCain settles onto a Barstool, after coming downstairs. His bag is at his feet, and his mind is itching for other places again. So he sits and drinks, and ponders walking once more, and where he will head next. It has been a long week after all, and some interesting meetings along the way.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:26 pmloyaltyinmotion.livejournal.comJason is curled in a booth, eyeing all the new faces in the Bar as he sips his coffee. For now he just watches, because his mind is racing and the thought of meeting someone new doesn't even occur to him. Might be a welcome distraction from his thoughts, though.
(Cuuuursed)
(Cuuuursed)
Entrance Post
Feb. 21st, 2006 08:43 pmlucky-coyote.livejournal.comA few lightbulbs flicker throughout the bar - particularly any that happen to be neon - as the door swings open. Anyone who cares enough to crane their neck to look will see a rather abandoned-looking pool patio adorned with a quite obviously false blue concrete palm tree at the edge. Behind the patio sits a strip-style motel, done over in peeling shades of pink paint. The horizon behind it is flat, far, and blue - a sure sign that the place is on the edge of a desert.
The young man who steps into the doorframe is dressed in a black suit jacket and pressed pants, with a bright red silk shirt beneath, the lapels wide and pointed. It's the sort of suit people of the 1990s would expect to see on gamblers, or bowlers, or generally hip swingsters of that ilk. His wingtip shoes are wet, and the clothes hang oddly from his thin frame, as though he put them on while his skin was still wet.
Slicking his wet brown hair back on his head, Johnny Destiny raises an eyebrow and looks around.
"Hey, cool. Not exactly what I had in mind, but." He shrugs, then raises his voice slightly to anyone who'd care to hear him.
"Hi there! ... Don't suppose anyone here's got a towel?"
The young man who steps into the doorframe is dressed in a black suit jacket and pressed pants, with a bright red silk shirt beneath, the lapels wide and pointed. It's the sort of suit people of the 1990s would expect to see on gamblers, or bowlers, or generally hip swingsters of that ilk. His wingtip shoes are wet, and the clothes hang oddly from his thin frame, as though he put them on while his skin was still wet.
Slicking his wet brown hair back on his head, Johnny Destiny raises an eyebrow and looks around.
"Hey, cool. Not exactly what I had in mind, but." He shrugs, then raises his voice slightly to anyone who'd care to hear him.
"Hi there! ... Don't suppose anyone here's got a towel?"
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:04 pmpen-velui.livejournal.comLuthien has this set of new icons, thanks to her PB being in a lot of photoshoots recently -- but that can't be the point of this post, can it?
No, really, it's not.
Actually, at present, Luthien is amusing herself with a book of poetry -- written in English, which she cannot read, but it isn't the words that are drawing her attention so much as the pages themselves; worn with time and with notes in several different hands written along the margins.
Do interrupt, however.
She never really minds.
No, really, it's not.
Actually, at present, Luthien is amusing herself with a book of poetry -- written in English, which she cannot read, but it isn't the words that are drawing her attention so much as the pages themselves; worn with time and with notes in several different hands written along the margins.
Do interrupt, however.
She never really minds.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:05 pmlt-naraht.livejournal.comPeople have come, and people have gone.
But, as far as Naraht is concerned, the wake's not over until the last entity passes out. Therefore, there is a rather intoxicated Horta whistling "Closer to Fine" at a table laden with graphite and alcohol.
Come have a drink if you haven't already.
But, as far as Naraht is concerned, the wake's not over until the last entity passes out. Therefore, there is a rather intoxicated Horta whistling "Closer to Fine" at a table laden with graphite and alcohol.
Come have a drink if you haven't already.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:11 pmroyal-warrior.livejournal.comA young man, in his late teens or early twenties, bursts through a door into the bar. He wears a short linen robe, and has a round shield on his left arm and an iron longsword in his right hand. His shoulder-length brown hair is damp and messy, and his face is the very picture of a young, hotheaded minor commander on the warpath.
Until he sees the lights inside the bar and the patrons inside, that is. He stops his arm midswing and stands still, then begins to tremble. He whirls around and reaches for the doorknob, but it dissolves and the door disappears into the wall before he can grab it. Then he looks around wildly, looking for something, anything, familiar. Not finding it, he falls to his knees and looks down at his chest, searching for the fatal wound and seeing nothing but his slightly bloody shoulder.
"May the man who slew me meet his own death this very day!" he cries, and waits for his judgment.
(Prince Amnon would probably really appreciate knowing that he's not dead, merely stuck in a bar at the end of the universe. Or maybe he wouldn't, but a terrified 19-year-old with a sharp sword and the belief that he has just perished at the hand of a faceless enemy is a potential safety hazard.)
(OOC: Mun is gone as of 11PM Central Time)
Until he sees the lights inside the bar and the patrons inside, that is. He stops his arm midswing and stands still, then begins to tremble. He whirls around and reaches for the doorknob, but it dissolves and the door disappears into the wall before he can grab it. Then he looks around wildly, looking for something, anything, familiar. Not finding it, he falls to his knees and looks down at his chest, searching for the fatal wound and seeing nothing but his slightly bloody shoulder.
"May the man who slew me meet his own death this very day!" he cries, and waits for his judgment.
(Prince Amnon would probably really appreciate knowing that he's not dead, merely stuck in a bar at the end of the universe. Or maybe he wouldn't, but a terrified 19-year-old with a sharp sword and the belief that he has just perished at the hand of a faceless enemy is a potential safety hazard.)
(OOC: Mun is gone as of 11PM Central Time)
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:25 pmkarthan-pirate.livejournal.comAvar, king and captain and former quick-tempered and great-hearted boy, refuses to be cowed by the strangeness that seems to be stalking himself and his family--most particularly his son.
And so he is once again in the bar, cutlass at his belt, and dinner on the table. The remains of dinner, at the least.
He is reading. It looks to be a foreign language dictionary, though one language would not be recognized by anyone from Earth.
'Back to basics' is apparently the catchphrase of the day.
And so he is once again in the bar, cutlass at his belt, and dinner on the table. The remains of dinner, at the least.
He is reading. It looks to be a foreign language dictionary, though one language would not be recognized by anyone from Earth.
'Back to basics' is apparently the catchphrase of the day.
Entrance Post for an Askani'son
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:28 pmncdcas-cable.livejournal.comHe has been called many things, and has many names: Nathan Christopher Dayspring Charles Askani'son Summers. He is known currently, in his time, as Cable.
He has been temporal warrior, would be saviour, soldier, hero, X-Man, son, father, brother, lover, widower, terrorist, freedom fighter, assassin, statesman, inventor, and villain.
Today he was merely tinkering, putting together idle tech he has had laying around and has been promising to work on. Today he was thinking of the next step in his plans and ideals. Today was a relaxing day, free of politics and even of Deadpool..
Until he connected one circuit too many and suddenly encountered a power surge that activated the not fully completely rebuilt Temporal Core.
There was a tearing sensation and a feeling like falling that he had felt before when he had taken similar time journeys, the flicker of a long, brilliantly lit place, elsewhere, falling through it, and then...
...and then, he slammed into something, hard.
It took him a long moment to realize there was no air, and then that he was in front of a door.
He glanced around and then took the only option open and opened it, stepping forward, into... a Bar?
He shook his head, then stepped fully inside and let the Door close.
What the hell?
Welcome to Milliways, Cable.
((ooc: *it is probably of note that he is carrying on him, visibly, a few guns of 21st century and beyond tech-levels. He is , also, a cyborg, his left arm being visibly mechanical looking. His left eye also glows softly most of the time.*))
He has been temporal warrior, would be saviour, soldier, hero, X-Man, son, father, brother, lover, widower, terrorist, freedom fighter, assassin, statesman, inventor, and villain.
Today he was merely tinkering, putting together idle tech he has had laying around and has been promising to work on. Today he was thinking of the next step in his plans and ideals. Today was a relaxing day, free of politics and even of Deadpool..
Until he connected one circuit too many and suddenly encountered a power surge that activated the not fully completely rebuilt Temporal Core.
There was a tearing sensation and a feeling like falling that he had felt before when he had taken similar time journeys, the flicker of a long, brilliantly lit place, elsewhere, falling through it, and then...
...and then, he slammed into something, hard.
It took him a long moment to realize there was no air, and then that he was in front of a door.
He glanced around and then took the only option open and opened it, stepping forward, into... a Bar?
He shook his head, then stepped fully inside and let the Door close.
What the hell?
Welcome to Milliways, Cable.
((ooc: *it is probably of note that he is carrying on him, visibly, a few guns of 21st century and beyond tech-levels. He is , also, a cyborg, his left arm being visibly mechanical looking. His left eye also glows softly most of the time.*))
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:36 pmcreator_ravenRaven is settled in the corner of a booth, elbows and knees at odd and awkward looking angles.
There is a notebook resting on the table, and occasionally he scrawls something in it. Upon closer examination it is almost illegible. Penmanship, it seems, is not one of his skills.
Not too far from the notebook is a plate of cookies, a jug of milk, and several glasses. All but one are clean.
There is also a small scattering of objects: two paperclips, three tiny blue feathers, a dried butterfly, and a tangle of brown thread. Occasionally he attempts to entwine these objects, fails, and makes a note. The butterfly is beginning to be quite crumpled.
There is a notebook resting on the table, and occasionally he scrawls something in it. Upon closer examination it is almost illegible. Penmanship, it seems, is not one of his skills.
Not too far from the notebook is a plate of cookies, a jug of milk, and several glasses. All but one are clean.
There is also a small scattering of objects: two paperclips, three tiny blue feathers, a dried butterfly, and a tangle of brown thread. Occasionally he attempts to entwine these objects, fails, and makes a note. The butterfly is beginning to be quite crumpled.
herr-farrenen.livejournal.comIt would be hard, one supposes, to mistake Milliways, the Bar at the End of the Universe for the Drover's Arms. There is s significant lack of Yorkshire farmers, for one, and it is not, as it were, situated in Darrowby.
One would also suppose that a tired, cranky vet smelling vaguely of cow would recognize this fact, and yet Siegfried, turned slightly to speak to the man behind him, breezes in with barely a glance around to deposit his coat with a careless turn of his wrist on a barstool, seating himself next to it.
"Pint of bitter, if you please," he murmurs absent-mindedly, preoccupied with searching his pockets.
"Where in the bloody hell are those castrators?"
One would also suppose that a tired, cranky vet smelling vaguely of cow would recognize this fact, and yet Siegfried, turned slightly to speak to the man behind him, breezes in with barely a glance around to deposit his coat with a careless turn of his wrist on a barstool, seating himself next to it.
"Pint of bitter, if you please," he murmurs absent-mindedly, preoccupied with searching his pockets.
"Where in the bloody hell are those castrators?"
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:40 pmthe-woodpecker.livejournal.com[ooc: A visit from the old ball and chain. Millitimed to late last night.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:41 pmabs-denham.livejournal.comThere is an Abs at the bar, reading an issue of the Holby Gazette.
'Corrupt Nurse Scandel.
Police were called to Holby City Hospital yesterday afternoon after a woman died in suspicious circumstances. Staff nurse Bruno Jenkins was later arrested on charges of theft of a precription pad...'
Every now and again he shakes his head and sips his pint.
'Corrupt Nurse Scandel.
Police were called to Holby City Hospital yesterday afternoon after a woman died in suspicious circumstances. Staff nurse Bruno Jenkins was later arrested on charges of theft of a precription pad...'
Every now and again he shakes his head and sips his pint.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:44 pmnerdanel_the_wisePregnant Elf, dozing lightly in front of the fire, her needlepoint almost forgotten in her lap.
A lap almost lost to the swell of her belly.
A lap almost lost to the swell of her belly.
Entrance post
Feb. 21st, 2006 09:56 pmspooky-crimes.livejournal.comNoah walks in to the bar. He thought he was walking in to the coat closet in his office. When he opens the door then walks in to this place so many auras and messages his spidey sense really going off the wall he falls back leaning against the wall.
He couldn’t believe his eyes he’s seen a lot of different things. That would freak most out but this was about to unnerve him… He looks around rubbing his head.
“Miranda?”
he speaks softly
[OOC: Noah can read minds let me know soon if you don’t want him to know what your thinking.. and how much he could know about you]
He couldn’t believe his eyes he’s seen a lot of different things. That would freak most out but this was about to unnerve him… He looks around rubbing his head.
“Miranda?”
he speaks softly
[OOC: Noah can read minds let me know soon if you don’t want him to know what your thinking.. and how much he could know about you]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:05 pmiambetadraconisOfficial entrance...
There's a newly-arrived Death Eater sitting in the bar, nursing a bottle of Ogden's Old—when he's not staring off into space that is.
Clearly, from the looks of him he's got a lot on his mind, thanks to him having run into someone he knows, if only in a cursory way.
You can approach if you like.
He might not be talkative but he won't bite you.
Even if you ask nicely.
[Slowtime after 11pm say thank you...]
There's a newly-arrived Death Eater sitting in the bar, nursing a bottle of Ogden's Old—when he's not staring off into space that is.
Clearly, from the looks of him he's got a lot on his mind, thanks to him having run into someone he knows, if only in a cursory way.
You can approach if you like.
He might not be talkative but he won't bite you.
Even if you ask nicely.
[Slowtime after 11pm say thank you...]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:17 pmforced-pilgrim.livejournal.comHere's something funny about Monkey: he can split off his hairs and turn them into other monkeys that are just as much himself as he is.
A giant monkey in a saffron robe is once again roaming the rafters, flipping around by his tail and dancing on the edges.
and
A small reddish monkey, apparently perfectly ordinary, is curled up near the fire, basking. He has a mango.
and
Outside, Monkey swoops and soars over the lake, riding on a flying cloud. He's dressed only in his robes (and his tigerskin shorts) but seems oblivious of the cold.
and
A genial, innocent-looking young (apparently human) monk is pottering around the bar with a wooden bowl, asking for alms and chanting softly in Mandarin.
Call it a variation on the concept of a multi-pup post. Pick one, or more than one.
A giant monkey in a saffron robe is once again roaming the rafters, flipping around by his tail and dancing on the edges.
and
A small reddish monkey, apparently perfectly ordinary, is curled up near the fire, basking. He has a mango.
and
Outside, Monkey swoops and soars over the lake, riding on a flying cloud. He's dressed only in his robes (and his tigerskin shorts) but seems oblivious of the cold.
and
A genial, innocent-looking young (apparently human) monk is pottering around the bar with a wooden bowl, asking for alms and chanting softly in Mandarin.
Call it a variation on the concept of a multi-pup post. Pick one, or more than one.
boundxkittyElizabeth is leaning against the bar, watching the goings on of the place. She's looking every bit the predator she can be, and then some. She's also wearing the same outfit she came in wearing, a very short mini skirt and a sheer shirt. The only difference from entering is the necklace around her neck, which Yrael had given her, and to cover the sheer shirt due to bar rules, she's wearing the coat that Jason got her.
She's specifically looking for a couple people, though she's open for an impromptu conversation before going home.
[ooc:Anyone who missed this but wants their pup to see Elizabeth before she leaves, feel free to start a slowtime.]
She's specifically looking for a couple people, though she's open for an impromptu conversation before going home.
[ooc:Anyone who missed this but wants their pup to see Elizabeth before she leaves, feel free to start a slowtime.]
A Little Visual Exercise
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:32 pmlearningtosee.livejournal.comStella is once again in the bar going through her optical illusions book. Now that she's getting a bit used to them she's finding them rather fun. Espeically the blurry ones that turn into 3-D images if you stare at them in just the right way for just the right amount of time.
She's staring at one now, but feel free to bug her. She won't mind a bit.
She's staring at one now, but feel free to bug her. She won't mind a bit.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:34 pmlatino_menaceRamon has commandeered a booth for this evening. By this, it's not meant that he's just sitting in a booth. It means that every available inch of table top and booth seat that he's not actually sitting on is covered with papers, pens, a laptop, a couple of large maps and several empty coffee cups. Oh, and a big sword.
Needless to say, he's busy. But interruptions will still be welcome because it's a good kind of busy. He's happy to be working again.
Needless to say, he's busy. But interruptions will still be welcome because it's a good kind of busy. He's happy to be working again.
[Out of Milliways: The Cells]
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:35 pmslayer_frayMel's adventures in Cell:
[So, the littlest Fray, she is locked up, and a Security trainee in the form of Steph comes to visit - this is clearly before Steph is locked up herself. It's, um, breaky. Steph cries. Mel punches the wall and breaks her fingers. It's a right barrel of woe.
Then Mordred comes for more of a chat, about curses and magic and how he's going to find Mike and Harth and tell them where she is.
At some point in all this, Raph arrests Bernard, and sees Mel while he's in there. Silence. Awkwardness. Patching up Mel's hand. Um... progress?
Tahiri meets Mel for the very first time, and it's... well, slowtimed, first of all, but it started as an interesting casual chat that's becoming a little more Security-ish.
Then we have the big sister. And that's breaky as well, and emotionally manipulative too. But mostly breaky.
In conclusion: Mel's liking cell just a little less than Hell. That had more space to stretch her legs.]
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:40 pmtalented-biter.livejournal.comSunny has Insisted that someone bring her out to the bar.
Cue Kitty taking the Beaver Baby from one tired witch Mummy and sitting with her at a booth, watching Sunny like a hawk as the blonde girl draws furiously.
"Need you to wite fo' me," Sunny informs her, handing the drawing over, and Kitty tries not to laugh--because it's not, really, funny--as she does so, before letting Sunny drag her to Bar.
"Need copies!"
A few minutes later several copies of a drawing are taped all over the room and Sunny begins patroling, marching back and forth, with Kitty watching rather helplessly.
And a little bit scared, because Hiss is hopping behind her, and she suspects the demon bunny is keeping the beat.
WANTED
One Count Olaf.
Horrible Actor, Bad Man.
Very dangerous.
Be on the look-out. Dumb, but consistently tricks adults anyway.
Be Very Careful.
Cue Kitty taking the Beaver Baby from one tired witch Mummy and sitting with her at a booth, watching Sunny like a hawk as the blonde girl draws furiously.
"Need you to wite fo' me," Sunny informs her, handing the drawing over, and Kitty tries not to laugh--because it's not, really, funny--as she does so, before letting Sunny drag her to Bar.
"Need copies!"
A few minutes later several copies of a drawing are taped all over the room and Sunny begins patroling, marching back and forth, with Kitty watching rather helplessly.
And a little bit scared, because Hiss is hopping behind her, and she suspects the demon bunny is keeping the beat.
WANTED
One Count Olaf.
Horrible Actor, Bad Man.
Very dangerous.
Be on the look-out. Dumb, but consistently tricks adults anyway.
Be Very Careful.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:42 pmguppy_sandhuAfter joining Naraht for the wake, Guppy is in one of the bar's darker corners, at the stage of drunkness somewhere between making no sense and falling over.
He watches the fire.
He hasn't eaten since breakfast.
He doesn't care.
He watches the fire.
He hasn't eaten since breakfast.
He doesn't care.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:50 pmtibetanmethodThere's an FBI agent at the bar.
Said FBI agent is drinking milk with aid of a curly straw and is wearing what looks like finger puppets on his index fingers. They're not speaking, or moving; he is contemplating them deeply.
Nobody ever said Dale Cooper's investigation methods were orthodox.
Said FBI agent is drinking milk with aid of a curly straw and is wearing what looks like finger puppets on his index fingers. They're not speaking, or moving; he is contemplating them deeply.
Nobody ever said Dale Cooper's investigation methods were orthodox.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 10:50 pmlast-king.livejournal.comTirian is in the bar again this evening, settled near the fire with a glass of mulled cider and a somewhat pensive expression.
He's not brooding over being Bound, because brooding over something he can't change is just going to make him miserable. So he's not. Right.
In any case, distractions from his utter lack of brooding would likely be welcomed.
He's not brooding over being Bound, because brooding over something he can't change is just going to make him miserable. So he's not. Right.
In any case, distractions from his utter lack of brooding would likely be welcomed.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 11:11 pmstilljustandrew*Yesterday, he used the wishing ring.*
*And last night, he bought a bottle of Jack Daniels and systematically got himself drunk. One night, he reassured Jonathan; he'd earned one night.*
*Despite the headache, and despite the odd bad dreams -- being back at Milliways was in there somewhere, and near the end of the night a distant echo of the really bad ones he hasn't had in more than a year -- despite all that, or perhaps because of it, he isn't regretting the one night's drunk. It's out of his system now, and it feels like against all expectation it's cleared his head.*
*Tomorrow night they go to find Angel, he and Jonathan, and find out what happens next.*
*Tonight he's here to find Meg, and find out much the same thing.*
*The front door opens, and in steps Andrew Wells, already looking around.*
*And last night, he bought a bottle of Jack Daniels and systematically got himself drunk. One night, he reassured Jonathan; he'd earned one night.*
*Despite the headache, and despite the odd bad dreams -- being back at Milliways was in there somewhere, and near the end of the night a distant echo of the really bad ones he hasn't had in more than a year -- despite all that, or perhaps because of it, he isn't regretting the one night's drunk. It's out of his system now, and it feels like against all expectation it's cleared his head.*
*Tomorrow night they go to find Angel, he and Jonathan, and find out what happens next.*
*Tonight he's here to find Meg, and find out much the same thing.*
*The front door opens, and in steps Andrew Wells, already looking around.*
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 11:40 pmtransgenic-max.livejournal.com(OOM: Curiousity. Cats. Enough said.)
There's no book tonight, no laptop, not even a cup of coffee. There's just a table by the observation window. Max sits, curled slightly in on herself, chin resting in the palms of her hands. The usual gloves have been discarded as well, though the left one is replaced by a thin strip of gauze.
She's staring out at the end of the universe, but doesn't seem to be seeing it. Wherever she is, it's nowhere near Milliways.
There's no book tonight, no laptop, not even a cup of coffee. There's just a table by the observation window. Max sits, curled slightly in on herself, chin resting in the palms of her hands. The usual gloves have been discarded as well, though the left one is replaced by a thin strip of gauze.
She's staring out at the end of the universe, but doesn't seem to be seeing it. Wherever she is, it's nowhere near Milliways.
(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 11:53 pmblue_eyed_lordSomeone enters from the lake area. He's been absent for a time, but has returned, of course. Nothing can keep him away for long.
He comes in, dapper in a black business suit, and heads towards the bar. Soon, he is comfortably ensconced in one of the high-backed chairs by the fireplace, sipping a glass of wine.
He comes in, dapper in a black business suit, and heads towards the bar. Soon, he is comfortably ensconced in one of the high-backed chairs by the fireplace, sipping a glass of wine.
