milliways_bar | Feb. 25th, 2006

Feb. 25th, 2006

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

He's been busy today, with one thing and another. But tonight all of that is done, and sleep is nowhere in sight; so Wells has his tea- pot of the green stuff, it's hardly got enough caffeine in to be worth mentioning- and a seat by the fire, and a notebook.

It's a decent night, really.

rigthegames.livejournal.com

Enter Sands.

Not looking as smart as the first time, with his shirt rumpled and his hair unwashed. His mouth is a fine line of tiredness and tightly coiled nerves, and his sunglasses are pushed as firmly up the bridge of his nose as ever. The walking stick has, apparently, been left in his room.

He hesitates in the door to the guest rooms, hand on the frame and a frown on his face (it’s all so loud), but only for a second. Then he shrugs and takes a step forwards. And another.

Fingertips trailing the wall, he begins to walk the perimeter of the bar. Under his breathe, a faint murmuring of 'three... four... five...' can just be heard.

[Mun is shockingly bored and in need of entertainment. Feel free to come and bother.]

boundxkitty

[OOM: Elizabeth settles back into her life in St. Louis.]

diamndcourtesan.livejournal.com

Five days of bedrest, even if it's very, very good for you, still makes a girl very, very antsy.

So even if she can't go very far, Satine goes.

Which means: one (1) French courtesan/dancer-type, in a comfy chair enjoying people-watching. Maybe you know her, maybe you don't. Maybe you saw her spectacularly dramatic entrance last Sunday and want to give her a hearty "WTF?" Whatever the case may be, come talk to her.

She's not dead yet, but it may be some time before she goes for a walk.

gentleprince.livejournal.com

Faramir is in the bar, which SHOULD have happened quite some time ago, but didn't.

Blame muns.

He has booze. And cranberries. He's fond of those.

He also has a pretty badge on his belt, right next to his sword. So far it hasn't talked to him, mysteriously grown or shrunk, or shown any signs of being controlled by a Dark Lord, so even though Liam said it's enchanted, he's kind of okay with that.

Come say hello.

river_meimei

Milliways has an improbable number of corners. Many of them are well-supplied with shadows; most of them have excellent views of the rest of the room. To a certain extent a place like this is unconsciously shaped by its inhabitants, and a good percentage of the patrons here are at least mildly paranoid.

River's settled in a booth in one of these corners.

Back against the wall, legs stretched before her along the bench, toes pointed. She has a mug of hot chocolate -- marshmallows and candy cane in it, because if you're in a magic bar you may as well be decadent about it -- and is scanning the room, eyes flickering over things that are there and things that probably aren't.

ucav-tinman.livejournal.com

Bit by bit, Eddie's bar tab has been lowering from the astronomical figure it'd been. World by world that he'd visited and used his skills to win a bit at the casinos, it'd been going down.

Today, Eddie stands at the bar and places a roll of money on the surface. His bar tab hits zero.

He'll be leaving soon, and he doesn't know if he'll be coming back. To be even is important to him.

[Repost. Am back.]

latino_menace

Hours and hours after this fight...

He'd worn the anger out of himself eventually, by dint of simply being too exhausted to sustain it any longer. So there was a change back to regular form - and the uncomfortable realisation that he was a good distance from the bar, bleeding all over the damn place from several knife wounds and a bullet through the shoulder...and now had to walk back.

Nothing to be done about it though, so he'd made his way through the forest, stopping off at the scene of the scrap to pick up his discarded sword and guns. And now he's back, looking rather the worse for wear.

Of course, the first thing he does is collapse into a booth and order a strong drink because, priorities. The rat, to its credit, brings medical supplies back with it. And at least Bar's not giving him shit about alcohol any more?

forthsdaughter.livejournal.com

Take a mun with a terrible migraine.

Add a character from 1917.

Throw in Modern Forensics from 2005.

Watch Nefret's eyes widen.

Interrupt if chosen.

puckishly.livejournal.com

[OOM: When Christmas Gifts Go Bad.

No.

Really bad.

Featuring condoms, codfish, snark, sentimentality, necrophilia (?), kidnappings, and proof that romance is truly alive.

Or at least undead.]

notanormalfox.livejournal.com

[OOM: Milliways for a man like Fox Mulder is heaven and validation, hell even redemption all rolled up into one, but after a Conversation with Welles awakens some rather unpleasant memories for the FBI agent he finds himself in need of a little Soul Searching.. The Universe reveals a bit of a personal truth and Mulder tries to make sense of what he saw while on "The blessing way" Rated WC for Whitetexted Canon from Various sources, Q&A W/U for questions and answers from the Universe and D for Disappointed.]

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: So Sorry to Say-Celldweller

backwardname.livejournal.com

[OOM: Campbell told Anna he'd deliver something. It doesn't go perfectly.]

gabriel_tam

[OOM: Thursday morning, Gabriel Tam travels to Lavinia, where he meets with Andronicus Crowley concerning upcoming events.]

timsbooks.livejournal.com

((OOM: Concerning incarceration, and Oops.))

The front door slams open. Oddly, instead of bouncing back and hitting the person who slammed it like it should, it just stays against the wall. Maybe it understands.

In the door itself, there is a figure outlined in blue flames, his black clothes as normal. Even the red tie. Behind sunglasses, a darker blue glow blazes. His hands are clenched as he walks forward, each foot carefully placed. It should be noted that the blazing aura is doin g no damage whatsoever.

But Tim is a little bit ticked off at having been held hostage by figments of his imagination for well over two months.

Come let him know he's been missed, maybe?

spin-a-web.livejournal.com

Peter walks in the Door and pauses, glances back, then shrugs and comes inside, letting the Door close. A long day, filled with webslinging and teaching and all, and a small drink in a really weird tavern sounded like fun. Or maybe that was just6 exhaustion talking to him. Again. Exhaustion had a nice baritone voice. Soothing.
...
Really!
Peter wanders in the bar and settles at the Bar, ordering a soda and fettuccine and glancing around.

regan_tam

[OOM, set Wednesday night: After Kaylee and Gabriel's disastrous conversation in the bar, Gabriel returns home.

Where he and Regan have a painful, emotional, and long-overdue talk.]

magius-unlocked.livejournal.com

Magius sits in a booth, drinking red wine and pondering Things while watching the Bar area. He is awake and wondering if this is a good time to wander about some, but he still feels loggy a bit, so he rests in the booth and watches around.

latino_menace

After this conversation, there's a note left at the bar.

( Arithon )

With that done he takes himself off to sleep and, hopefully, start healing up.

http://users.livejournal.com/_computer_wiz_/

Dairine is down in the bar today.

She's sitting with Spot, currently enjoying a breakfast of cereal and orange juice and trying to figure out what she might want to do for the day. She'd have to find Roshaun of course, as just about anything she'd come up with would include him almost automatically, but there's no harm in thinking on it.

She's open to ideas.

http://users.livejournal.com/_pale_ghost_/

Ghost is sitting in the rafters.

Don't ask how he got up there or what he's doing there. He's just there, sitting in his faded tye dyed jeans and his ragged white t-shirt with the holes near the edges. Pale pale hair falls into an even more pale face but he brushes it away from his eyes, looking out over the bar with a tired, bittersweet smile.

Perhaps you can see his feet.

always-thirsty.livejournal.com

Smug.

Thomas looks smug.

Thomas looks smug and satisfied and languid as he lounges over by the couches. Obviously, he couldn't go back to Adam again as it would end up hurting the poor man, but he was a fine enough meal for an incubus and a good lay all in one go. He's considering going out to the willow tree today now, or if he wants to do it later. As it is, he's sipping coffee and nibbling on a chocolate crossant.

eternal-boy.livejournal.com

He's sitting in a corner, sipping at a meal and considering the paper in front of him.

He had to leave a note. He had to leave something. He had to say something, but he didn't know what to say. In the end, he ends up writing something simple with as little emotion as he can manage.

( To Alex of Tirragen )

It's left at the bar and he himself settles down in a booth with a book.

He's not on shift for a few more hours.

[ooc: incidentally, Nick is also part of the Curse plot, though his own plot has made him scarce. Feel free to mistake him for Lysaer]

ezekiel-36-27.livejournal.com

Zeke's in.

What, you're looking for a long entrance post for him?

He's here for a beer and a burger and perhaps even for a familiar face. That's all, really. You're welcome to make your face familiar to him, wander over... wonder why he doesn't have a heartbeat, even, or why he smells like sulphur.

f-for-french.livejournal.com

Secretary/Assistant Bringer of Hope to the Helpless at the bar.

She's munching on her salad, as per usual, and sipping from her bottled water, as per usual, and flipping through a book on demons...

As per usual.

Well, she's got nailpolish for later, but the smell always puts her off her food when she tries to do the two at the same time so it's demonic studies for the moment.

fell-in-battle.livejournal.com

Shiloh.

In the bar.

Sharpening his sword near the fireplace on one of the couches.

Friends, family, or countrymen are welcome to come by. Or, you know, anyone else.

finds-it.livejournal.com

Still here.

What? Thought I'd left? The place is quiet, peaceful, somewhat insane (but then, what decent bar isn't?), and serves me good booze without me having to bitch for half an hour. Plus, you know, the bar snacks aren't deadly, alive, or frightening.

I'm looking over the item that had been the object of the case that brought me here, a stuffed bear belonging to, of all people, Jessica the Unbeliever. The whole of the Nightside was probably waiting on this thing reaching her arms so people would stop disappearing into nothing, but as long as I'm here, I'm going to enjoy the peace ane quiet... especially if what the one person told me is true about this place being like Hawk's Wind Bar and Grill.

That being said, I've got breakfast and some milk and the world's looking pretty damn fine.

forge-fire.livejournal.com

[and so that I don't flood the entire front page of the bar, the rest shall be in a MULTI PUP POST! *cues the trumpets*]

Hephaestos sits in a corner, sipping at watered down wine and popping an olive into his mouth occasionally. A bowl with bread and cheese and a touch of honey sits before him, but he seems content with the olive at the moment.

Gary's at the bar, but outside. Gary Perunu, that is. He's sitting and reading, a cookbook of all things, while Andrei crawls on the cold grass nearby. He's bundled up some, but he likes the cold more than Josh. He looks up every so often to check on the little one, but the baby seems content to keep near his "uncle".

Friar Carl is sitting in a booth, fiddling with Something.

We capitalize because it more than likely will end up being Something that explodes.

Yamino of all creatures sits quietly at the bar, watching the patrons and sipping at a cup of tea. He's got a bit of flour in his hair, but he hasn't noticed it yet. Then again, such a thing is almost as common to find on him as his glasses.

Ismena is sewing. It's what high born ladies do when they have nothing else to do and with Zakath gone at the moment, she truly has nothing else to do. She could study, of course, but she's found her mind lacking the focus of late for such things and she's not in the mood besides. As it is, she's quite content with her sewing, but she wouldn't hurt for company.

Natalie Lambert looks half asleep over her considerable coffee cup. She's been working day and night, double and even triple shifts lately since Doreen was out for maternity leave and Eddie'd gotten a better job at a research facility. They were looking for someone new, but for now, she was overworked and tired.

So she came here for monsterhunter snuggles. Or conversation. And coffee. Definitely coffee.

Darien doesn't NEED your silly multipup post. He will no doubt find a Charlie post and pounce. That being said, he's sitting with a cup of coffee and lounging in his pajama bottoms on one of the couches.

Sir Gareth has paperwork.

You probably see it instead of him.

Feel free to chat with the paperwork. It could use a little light conversation.

notanormalfox.livejournal.com

There's an FBI agent coming into the bar.

From the outside.
Looking a little wet and more then a little cold Mulder shoulders his way to a place by the fire after recieving (which much-thanks) a cup o' coffee.

So. One FBI agent warming his hands against the fire thinking-considerably more relaxed.

Current Mood: accomplished

randomsbastard.livejournal.com

Random is not back in the bar, although at first glance it may look like it. That's because his kid is in the bar.

This is the adult, non-kidnapped version of the boy, though, and the whole new memory reconciliation thing hasn't happened yet.

Which is a way of setting the plot in the open, as well as a mild warning that snark involving leprotic camels may be in the offing if you annoy him.

Martin has food.

leplusbeau

[OOM: In which Fleur wonders why she can't participate in a plot. ]

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

Jack is in the bar, keenly dissappointed by the lack of anything exciting happening to him at the moment. Which means he's back to playing jacks. Sometimes loosing interest in that and just tossing and catching the ball, watching the morning patronage with an amused smile.

A slow day, for the Frost.

twiststheblade

Miho is in front of the fire, doing some basic yoga floor-excercises, and wincing a lot.

Jadis is sat at the Bar, eating a salad, and generally looking like the cat that got the cream. This never bodes well.

Valentine is sulking in a booth, bored, and contemplating alcohol as an alleviation for the aforementioned boredom.

Bother any and all, at will.

kittenscrap.livejournal.com

Petra sits at her usual table with the kitten dozing off underneath her. The maps are rolled up neatly under the table and a bucket holds the purple, red, blue and green soldiers she uses. Now simply a binder sits on the table with a piture of China sketched lightly on it. One of each color of play soldiers sits next to the binder. She absently hums while chewing on the end of her pencil, regularly ignoring the plate of food infront of her.

[ooc: oops. Mun didn't change logins, will tag in correct login.]

i_vanquish_evil

Gabriel Van Helsing is tinkering with a set of Tojo blades. Apparently they've gotten a little slow - perhaps they need oil or maybe the spring's a little worn. There's obviously something wrong as they don't make that fun humming buzzing sound when he squeezes the trigger. He'll figure something out.

Current Mood: determined

shufti

The door opens to reveal Shufti in a dress* holding a pair of slightly pink trousers.
She looks fairly surprised, and then strangely feels embarrassed about the fact she is in a dress. She goes to get a glass of milk from the bar then sits by the fire, warming her hands and trying to look more male.

[ooc: *Nb. Under normal circumstances Shufti is a girl dressed as a boy. Today she is a girl dressed as a boy dressed as a girl. Go figure]

shakenstrfaith.livejournal.com

Another FBI agent in the bar. Currently reading with her notepad by her. Also some lunch.
Still keeping to observations and not thinking of how scientific principles would take one look at the place, and throw up their hands in disgust.

banished-to.livejournal.com

Hel is in the bar.

Her player is eaten by plot, somewhat sleep-depping, possibly needing to do more fight threads later (oh, ye cursed, ping me), and running between 98.9 and 99.7F.

Confusion, crack, and incoherency are all possible.

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Holby, 18/2/2006. Dreams, utter confusion and back to work.. Rated C for Cheese and Crackiness. Lyrics by Benny Hill.]

The door opens from a busy accident and emergency department and Guppy steps in. Unusually for a work day, he is tieless (they are now officially banned for MRSA issues). He heads to the bar and gets a coffee, before settling by the fire to do the Su Doku out of his newspaper.

prettymaids

Drusilla is sitting in a booth, with lemon tea and sponge cake. A small baby doll by the name of Julia is craddled in her arms and she's crooning a soft lullabye to it.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word,
Mama's gonna bye you a mockingbird..."

the4thsister.livejournal.com

Paige is in the bar, looking frankly pissed off, she'd been threatened yesterday, and while she hadn't scared, cos hello Charmed One! She had been bloody annoying someone would do that here, still she'd threatened back, so it could have been worse.

So yes Paige inna bar drinking a diet Pepsi and wondering just how much trouble she'd get in for vanquishing another patron.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco was in a better mood today, though not happy about the weather since that meant no riding on the broom today.
Trying to distract himself with Animagus studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts studies in the meantime to keep down the pent-up energy.

onehoopyprefect

It's a familiar face that comes in through the door. Well... sort of familiar. If you can look past the beard, the greying hair, and the age lines, you might recognize him. If you know what you're looking for.

And if you did, you'd realize that Ford Prefect has just come back into the bar, significantly older than when he left.

He looks around, taking a deep breath and smiling when he realizes where he is. "Ah, Milliways! Hoopy!"

Then, he sneezes.

"Waitaminute..."

[ooc: Future!Ford inna bar! This weekend only! Get 'im while he's... old.]

not-one-drop.livejournal.com

Mal comes down from his room, a bit more awake and still slightly shaken from the discovery that he can't go home, as well the conversation with Mina, and with Audrey. He doesn't quite remember everything, but he knows he made a fool of himself. Waking up in a bed without knowing how he got there is always a bad sign.

Remembering her words, he goes to the Bar and leaves a note on her surface, and says, feeling rather a fool; "Please give this to a member of Security." The note disappears.

He then orders coffee on Susan Sto Helit's tab, and sits down at a booth. Conversation might be risky, but you can give it a try.

[ooc: Back now!]

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

He's feeling better. By "better" this means he's not having nightmares, he's not destroying his room, and he doesn't look broody for once. He's at the fire again, reading. He wouldn't mind being interrupted.

Current Mood: relaxed

bloodyrockgod

Charlie is out by the lake with his guitar( ,singing )

He's not bothered by the cold.

not-death-eater.livejournal.com

The bar is a place where anyone can come. The good, the bad, the pretty, and the ugly. Many times, people appear when they least expect it. Sometimes, people don't arrive when they intend to. And then there are times when people are planning to arrive, but not until later. The latter is the case in one Lucius Malfoy.

The door opens, and Malfoy enters, striding into the room, with a black satin eyepatch over one eye, and dressed in long, elegant green robes. He seems slightly startled to see the bar, but strides over to Bar herself and orders a cup of tea. It arrives cold, weak, and over-sugared. Swearing, he turns and looks for the door. There is only a wall. For now.

[ooc: Lucius has returned to the bar. He, for once is planning on behaving for the moment. If there are any issues, please ping me at quiverby before thread. I'm attempting to avoid doom for now.]

blueskinnedboy.livejournal.com

Chris ambles into the bar, still wearing his tuxedo from the symphony though the bow tie hands loose about his neck. He sits and stretches out his legs, quietly orders a martini and commences people-watching.

Looks like it'll be a fine night.

youalleverybody.livejournal.com

The door opens and Liam comes in, from his house rather than from downtown Sydney.

He's humming to himself cheerfully.

saionjisenpai.livejournal.com

Saionji enters the bar, the usual Ohtori uniform freshly pressed and his shoes newly shined. He doesn't get anything from the Bar, just leans against it and looks around for Antigone.

go-between.livejournal.com

Richard and Gary have a Very Awkward Conversation.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways

Arithon and B fight, break, and make up.

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

[Yet Another Note for Security, though on the bright side, there is no one in the cells to accompany this one.]

leftthecradle.livejournal.com

Out in the field by the lake, the setting sun paints the browned, winter grasses with amber and gold. Upon those grasses rests a beautiful crystal cluster within which different colored lights dance. In a huge sphere with the crystals at its center, red and blue orbs dance.

And, within and among them a solitary figure dances his own pattern. Yes, the Ranger is playing the game he so recently introduced to young Draco. His robes have been shed and, clad only in a loose pair of trousers, he darts, leaps, spins and dives in pursuit of the blue orbs and in evasion of the red.

Barefooted and barechested as he is, the cold doesn't seem to bother him.

This round should be over shortly. Perhaps the lights and motion has attracted the interest of other people.

queens-darkness.livejournal.com

There's a dark fae sitting on a couch by the fire. He's surprisingly taking up very little of the couch, curled up on one end of it quite comfortably. And he's reading. The book is black though if you can catch a glimpse of the cover the silver script will read Poems by Robert Frost.

Come poke at the fae, he's reading poetry which means he's relaxed.

shang-dragon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Narcissa and Beatrix are loosed on the world. Millitimed to last night.]

lt-naraht.livejournal.com

Enter the Horta.

Naraht has long since recovered from his hangover. But he is staying away from the graphite for a while. At the moment, is he is enjoying a delectable treat of white marble with silica sprinkles and listening to music generated by his holocomputer.

His 23rd century version of iTunes has an ironic sense of humor. "I Am A Rock" just came on.

captainbrass.livejournal.com

Pulling his jacket closer to his body, Brass mumbled under his breath about the idiotic climate changes of the desert. At least in New Jersey, there was a White Christmas some years. Las Vegas apparently felt no need to atone for its cold snaps.

At least he knew Vegas now, just as well has he had known New Jersey. Callahan's was his haunt, just as Flynn's had been almost thirty years ago. A little bar on a side street, and it's only neon lights came from signs that said Bud and Coors. Opening the door, he looked down at his feet, shaking some stray ice off of his shoes. But when he looked back up, he was in a bar, but it certainly wasn't Callahan's. No way Teddy had come into enough money to do the place up this nice, even in Vegas.

Was he really tired enough to stumble into the wrong bar? Man, what a day. And he probably shouldn't be drinking.

But then again, one couldn't hurt, and he could always call a cab.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

Molly's back, wearing a nightgown and dressing gown, and slippers. She was on her way to her dorm room, to call it an early night so she could read, but the door brought her to Milliways instead. It's been doing a lot of that lately.

With a philisophical shrug, she tightens the sash of her dressing gown and decides to get a cup of tea from the bar.

She wonders who she'll meet tonight?

balletrat

*Meg comes into the bar through the back door; she's been practicing by the lake, and her face is flushed and bright from cold and exercise.

Sliding onto a barstool, she receives a cup of coffee and a pad of paper, on which she proceeds to note areas in need of improvement.

She's been distracted the past few weeks - to put it mildly - but now there's no excuse not to get back on her game.*

asar-suti.livejournal.com

There was a formerly Dark God by the fireplace, with several large books and a notebook.

And lots of coffee. Of course.

grapesarefun.livejournal.com

The whirlwind appears with a tinkling music of some sort.

When the whirlwind disappears, there is an obvious cartoon Elf (dressed very skimpily) standing in the middle of the room, arms folded and his head cocked to the side.

"This isn't level 69," he says. "Well... shiiit."

magius-unlocked.livejournal.com

Magius settles near the fire, watching it with interest. There has been much ado lately, and it has been most definitely not about nothing. So he is thinking and watching flames and humming softly to himself.

xan-shaped.livejournal.com

Xander is sore.

SORE.

That's the absolute last time he holds the punching bag for baby Slayers.

... You know. Until the next time Buffy asks him.

Besides, now that he's sidled up to Bar and gotten a milkshake to recuperate with, his outlook on life is getting rosier.

elvish-hunter.livejournal.com

The Hunter has been spending most of her time outside, familiarizing herself with the outside portion of the bar, especially the forest, and sharpening her skills. Not that they need sharpening.

She's even been sleeping among the trees, coming inside only for food and drink, which she does this evening. Rather than take it directly back outside, she decides to adopt a table. The inside of the bar - and the creatures in it - are worth scrutinizing as well.

petraarkanian.livejournal.com

Petra hums as she plays with her toy soldiers and her map of Aisa. They are still set in the correct places, except one unit. This is the one Petra is toying with.

The other maps lay under the chair. Kit is no where to be seen.

Also, Petra is completly tone deaf.

[ooc: Mun is being forced off computer by parents. Will be on tomorrow.

caramel-colored.livejournal.com

Hunter comes in from the House of Arch, ordering a glass of ale from Bar before settling herself at a table.

It has been some time since she's gone hunting, and she's starting to look a little restless.

gramarye1971

Merriman has a glass of cognac in front of him, along with a stack of essays that are in the process of being marked.

Judging by the amount of red ink that is covering the essays he's already marked, he may need another glass of cognac before he's finished.

shufti

From somewhere just behind the door there is a massive explosion. The door shakes and clouds of white smoke and dust begin to come through as it changes into a gaping hole in the wall.

Behind the hole there are screams, from both men and women, pieces of masonry falling all around the place and total and utter chaos. A few seconds later, a small skinny kid stumbles through the hole, which turns back into a door as she passes through. Thick white dust covers her hair and dress. At the instant she passes through the door she is screaming with the others, a large copper bar raised above her head ready to strike the unlucky souls on the other side of the door.

When she realises where she is she stops dead and stops screaming. Instead she gasps, trying to take in the clean air, and rubs her dust-filled eyes as they stream. She drops the copper bar and sinks weakly into the nearest chair, curling up with her hands on her abdomen, completely exhausted.

creator_raven

Something small and quick and black drops from the rafters, thunking solidly into the seat of a chair.

Black wings resolve into the tails of a long black coat, and Raven fishes in his pocket for a few cookies.

It is not long after this that a waitrat approaches with a pot of tea and a plate of cookies.

Someone, it seems, is predictable.

At least in certain ways.

tibetanmethod

The very best thing about having access to a bar in your hotel room at the Great Northern (clean place, reasonably priced) is that the coffee at this bar is a lot cheaper than room service.

So.

Special Agent Dale Cooper, with a cup of coffee, sitting on a barstool and doing something with a few toothpicks. Building what looks like...a hypercube?

outta-a-chair.livejournal.com

Colin does not need Mary to go to the bar.

Colin can--and is--going on His Own.

Colin is also staring about the bar again with fascination, cheeks pale and eyes wide.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells had some discussion yesterday that led to some thinking today, but there is really only so long a man can go about doing that before his skin starts to itch. Now he's got dinner- rice, lentils, onions, the smell of cumin- and a pint; why mess with a winning formula?

He's also got a small sketchpad and a set of coloured pencils. Most of them are in the green/grey/brown/black family. They might almost match the mottling on his uniform. But they're going to have to wait until he's finished eating.

river_meimei

River's been out with the horses. Her cheeks are flushed, and her fingers are cold, and there are black hairs from Boukephalos's winter coat scattered over her sleeves and skirt and the long tails of her coat.

And she's glowing with the fun of it.

River likes horses.

stilljustandrew

*Andrew's in a good mood.*

*It's especially good because this time last week, he wasn't sure he'd ever be in a good mood again.*

*So: Bar. Fried paradoxes. Root beer float.*

*Life is good.*

song_tra_bong

[oom: After being taken to the cells, Mary Anne got an unexpected visit from Julian. Then, Jack Driscoll found out his friend went nuts and decided to check on things. Finally, Lady Macbeth has a few choice words for her.
If you haven't taken the opportunity already, feel free to poke the crazy girl with a stick.]

kitchen_maid

Amy has settled over by the fire this evening.

Well, not perhaps settled. She looks fidgety, tapping one foot against the floor and fussing with her dress and her hair.

She's drinking coffee this evening, which may explain why she's jittery.

Or it might not.