milliways_bar | Mar. 1st, 2006

Mar. 1st, 2006

the4thsister.livejournal.com

Paige walks down into the Bar smiling, she has plans to be Unbound soon and everything's going well generally.

Once she gets into the Bar however this changes, "what the... a sailor?"

fucking Milliways!

trustntheharper.livejournal.com

When Harper came through the door, from the lift, greasy and grimy because he and Beka had just got back from a rather messy smuggling job, the last thing he expected was lots of gorgeous women running around in tight costumes.

Therefore, he raised his eyes skyward, clasped his hands together, and mouthed silently, 'Thank you.'

Ooh, hey, and it gave him a suit, too. Classy.

...With lots and lots of beads around his neck.

Mardi Gras had been long forgotten, but Harper knew plenty of holidays where women flashed people for beads. It had caught on in many a holiday in the Known Worlds.

He ordered an expensive drink from the bar, and swung a string around in a circle with his fingers.

"Ladies, ladies! The beadmaster has arrived. Who wants some?"

inquisitivehero

Hank McCoy comes downstairs, looking a little ruffled and glances around. He has to get home for some sleep before the trip tomorrow. Nothing liike heading into Manhattan to see the Avengers to bring old memories to the fore. he just wishes he knew what was going on. Something wasnt right. But then, with the X-Men, that wasn't anything new. Oh well, he would be back tomorrow and everything would be normal.

Not knowing how wrong he is, he turns and moves to the Door. He glances back once, then opens it and steps through.

jack_f_twist

[OOM: Jack joins Ennis at his chores in the stables, and after the work is done, they take advantage of the perks of the job, and go for a ride. Along their way, they find a place that might not be perfect, but is pretty damned close. Rated W for What happens when these two are alone together.]

mortisbelle.livejournal.com

Serena enters from the lake area...

And instantly feels the breeze on her legs.

She also knows its useless to argue with Bar, so... she acts naturally.

Have at, the dark ages lady looks good in a mini and fishnets.

tibetanmethod

Carnivalization, for Dale Cooper, is being wakened by singing Icelandic investors at four in the morning.

This may be why when he comes in, looking harried, nothing happens.

He looks around...and looks relieved. It's a lot quieter in here than it is in the Great Northern at the moment.

prydeful

One entrance post requested, pre-HoM.

One entrance post granted.

Kitty, with beads, and cat-ears that are making her twitch, is on a couch, reading a magazine on computers.

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

It's happened before. Surely it's not time for that ridiculous Earth holiday again? Hasn't even been a cycle since the last Halloween. Aeryn drew her cutlass, frowning at it. Was it supposed to be glittery?

"At least I'm in trousers this time..."

One masked pirate, still in Peacekeeper colours.

street-sparrow.livejournal.com

Gavroche comes out of the House of Arch.

Gavroche stops and stares.

Gavroche runs back through the painting and re-emerges a few minutes later with a camera borrowed from... someone in the House.

Fear, costumed patrons of Milliways.

howling_laugh

The idea of Mardi Gras is really something Coyote can get behind. So after a long day and night, she strolls into Milliways, wearing a corset over a heavily beaded buckskin skirt.

She's carrying a mask, and wearing stiletto heels as well as an (apparently) fake tail.

Looking around at the other costumes she smirks, and lights a cigarette.

latino_menace

Oh dear oh dear oh dear. And he'd been in such a good mood.

Ramon's come from upstairs, dressed as normal and ready to resume regular activites (which at the moment seems to involve glaring at people a lot and then stopping them killing his buddy) when he spots the way everyone seems to dressed like they're at...well, Mardi Gras.

He considers making a run for it but is torn, because what if there's an attack? And then...too late.

At least he's got the accent for it?

goinghost.livejournal.com

[After a hectic stay at Milliways, in which Danny's new "friend" Draco Malfoy sold him him out to Blodwen, Danny's friends and sister arrive in bar, are almost tricked by Evil!Danny, plans are plotted, dangerous detours are had, and with the help of Dream, Jedi!Ray, Venkman, and the gang enter the most frightening place someone could go: inside the head of a moody teenage boy.

After the day (and Danny's psyche) are saved, the Ghostbusters offer Danny a place on the team. Which is totally Jedi of them.]

blackbanthaboy.livejournal.com

There's a lanky, scarred pilot in the bar. He's all romantic-hero broody.

Or he would be, if he didn't have pancakes with lemon and sugar. It's very hard to brood in a manly fashion when you're tucking into sweet, hot pancakes. Face is resigned to this fact, and reluctantly accepts that he can't look the part all the time.

Besides, pancakes. MMMMMM.

gone_byebye

Ray makes his way down the stairs from room 2342, still dressed in his Jedi robes and generally looking like he's been through Hell. But he's smiling.

"I," he announces as he reaches the center of the barroom floor, "am going HOME."

And with that he turns and strides towards the front door. A brass pole appears about three strides away from the door; ceremoniously, he takes hold of the pole, pulls both feet off the ground, and slides down the pole and back into a certain New York City firehouse.

The pole vanishes moments later.

doc-venkman.livejournal.com

Venkman came downstairs, also from room 2342, and dressed in his jumpsuit, looking really weary and tired. There were quite a few messages for him at the bar. What the hell? Marriages... Barry's gone? Damn. What else? Something about... ah hell. He didn't want to know, he really didn't.

Then his green eyes flickered toward the wall...no, the door.

Hallejulah, he could see the door!

"YES!!!!!!!!!!! I'm going home! New York City, here we come, baby!" Peter turned around, and charged upstairs.

He was now carefully bringing a pregnant and sleepy Dana downstairs.

"Peter... what is it, it's late." She then caught the sight of the door. "...oh my god..."

She turned back to him, and he kissed her gently, "We're going home, hon. Everybody's waiting. Come on."

The couple then opened the door, and walked out into a brisk fall night in New York City.
The door shut behind them.

tibetanmethod

It's a little while after he left. Soon enough Dale Cooper will return to Twin Peaks, and to a spirited rendition of "Grýla er að vísu gömul kerling". For the fourth time.

He's got a note to leave first.

( Clarice Starling )

With that taken care of, he pats the bartop, wishes Bar a very good evening, and -- looking resigned -- goes out the front door.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

Tim is cleaning a table, whistling softly. He's taken it upon himself to start at the bottom, manual labor.

And then he looks up at the door, and walks that way. Precognition, gotta love it.

At the exact instant he is standing before it, the door slams open to reveal... Tim Hunter. A few years younger, a little healthier, in better shape, but still Tim Hunter. Not in costume, but he's been wandering.

"Fuck, what's this? They send someone to check up on me?"

"Not quite. You left. I came back."

The Tim on the outside furrows his brow, and then his eyes widen. He starts to moving, dodging to one side as if he expects a blast. "Oh, shi-"

"No. None of that." The Tim in the bar makes a gesture, and the other Tim freezes in mid step. "There is no need of that. I'm not going to hurt you. But I do want you to tell me what you're doing."

"I'm bringing my world back."

There is a pause as the Real Tims eyes search his creations person. And then brighten. "My goodness. Isn't that orginal? Good show."

He steps forward, and then past his other self.

"All you."

And the real Tim is gone. Hellspawn blinks, several times, then steps through the door, plainly confused. And even more so when he is suddenly in costume.

The old one, the one that has a flowing cape, and short shorts that show off his legs almost to his crotch.

"AHHH!"

namo

[OOM: In Aman, a month after Asar-Suti's visit, Námo is treated with the company of future!Glorfindel, who comes to defend his cousin's honour when she cannot -- and when his past self cannot. This leads to minor violence, but also to realization. Warning for utter cuteness at the end.]

venusadept_2

Felix appears to have been absent from the festivities last night.* If he knew, he would be grateful. When he materializes today he goes over by the fire and continues reading the Bible that Bar gave him a few days ago.

*Contrary to possible belief, this is not because his mun was upset at Del-mun. Rather, Rolf, Felix-mun's muse, refused to go along with any of his plans. Also, Photoshop was not cooperating properly.

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Knox enters the Bar, well-rested for the first time in ages. He showered, napped, watched TV, napped some more, did the crossword (poorly), ate the other half of his bagel, and then for a change slept for hours.

But as he heads to the Bar, he feels like something is off. He looks down and sees that his suit has turned into a police uniform. He looks at the badge.

"New Orleans? What the hell?" He'd heard the Bar can give you clothing, but not someone else's. "It's just a few days early for Halloween," he declares to the Bar.

Then looks around. It's messy here, like there was a party. And... "Pancakes...lots of people were eating pancakes!" After all, if Valentine's Day were two weeks ago...

"Hell...it was Mardi Gras." But why he's dressed like a cop, he has no idea. "Well, at least it's not a Gotham uniform." He orders his coffee and wonders.

[ooc: usual slowtime possibilities]

Current Mood: confused

gone_byebye

[OOM: Back in New York, back in December, Ray makes something official with his nephews.]

notanormalfox.livejournal.com

There's an FBI Agent inna bar!

Costumeless! Much to Mulder's overwhelming joy.
So he's sitting at the bar with a bowl of Shrimp flavored Udon, an orange salad and some choice sushi pieces.

Breakfast of champions whut.

gone_byebye

[OOM: Ray's just about made up for all his lost time back home.]

The front door opens, and someone who hasn't walked into the Bar in quite some time walks in: an overenthusiastic Ghostbuster who hasn't really noticed that he's, well, slimed. "Damn, I've missed this place," he says to no one in particular. "Hey, Bar! Can I get the green stuff before I go upstairs and take a shower? It's been a really long day."

There's a moment's pause before the Bar yields up a big glass of something dark green, faintly opalescent, fizzy, and just possibly sluggishly moving on its own.

"Thank you, Bar, I appreciate it. Wow that looks good."

Ray pats the bartop, deposits a fistful of small shiny objects that disappear instantly, and takes the glass over to a long-neglected seat near the observation window.

queens-darkness.livejournal.com

There's a dark shadowed cat lounging in front of the fire. He's not curled up into a ball, but rather spread out so that he looks as long as he is. His dark kitty eyes are closed in a content expression as he enjoys the heat of the fire.

Come poke at the shadowed kitty.

tea-and-honor.livejournal.com

Ako has on at least six pounds of Mardi Gras beads.

Hey. Human is a costume for her! These include, but are not limited to, penis beads (tucked enough that if you don't know what one looks like, you won't be scarred. Kids, and all), flamingo beads, parrot beads, frog-and-beer beads, devil beads, and dice beads.

Somewhere under all that she's got a skirt and tube-top on. They may, or may not, be printed in bead-patterns.

The effect may be a little like: this only young, and able to see her face and use her hands.

finds-it.livejournal.com

You have no idea how frickin' important this teddy bear is. No, really, you don't.

You have no idea how many men, women, children, and other assorted beings of all sort and stripe in the Nightside had been looking for this thing, or had been hoping that me of all people would find it and deliver it to it's original owner.

Jessica the Unbeliever's teddy bear was a ragged thing, some of the stuffing having run out of the left arm and the stitching a little dodgy around the edges. It's been patched a few times, chewed a few more, and I think I could see dirt from every corner of the Nightside on it if I decided to Look. But I'd nearly gotten killed for it, so you'll excuse me if I happen to think it's a pretty important piece of stuffed animal.

If you're wondering why I'm staring at it while I eat my breakfast, it's because I'm trying to figure out where to hand it over to her so that she doesn't decide I don't exist before I manage to hand it to her. Getting wiped out of existence because I didn't think things through isn't really on my menu.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Yesterday was weird for damn near everybody except Sergeant Wells, so perhaps he can be forgiven for looking just a touch disappointed at the dissipation of that strangeness when he enters the main bar today. It is not all that often that the man gets to see everyone else in the world get smacked between the eyes with the Very, Very Peculiar.

Oh, well. At least the return to relative normalcy means he can get his breakfast in peace, now that his workout's over.

leftthecradle.livejournal.com

Ranger in the Bar, sans encounter suit.

And, being reminded of a particular dish by his conversation with a young wizard, he is dining on a plate of what appears to be grilled chunks of tofu. But it certainly doesn't smell like tofu. Whatever it smells like, it would certainly smell delicious to the average humanoid.

Come over for conversation and/or trying one of the most widely eaten foodstuffs of his galaxy. If your pup is fortunate, he won't feel compeled to explain what it is after it has been sampled.

abotticellilady.livejournal.com

Bianca actually hadn't meant to come to Milliways today, but clearly her boathouse had other ideas. Unlock the door, step through, and her jean shorts and white top are replaced with...

Well.

Bianca had never hidden the fact that she had been a courtesan. But it's one thing to admit to it, it's another to turn up somewhere public in a dress that was out five hundred years out of fashion. Although she always did like wearing her heavy hair in three parts, Botticelli style, her dress is...well, it's a very dress. Dark green silk, with embrodiered flowers along the hem. It's just that, if it was any lower-cut, Bianca would probably be in violation of the No Nudity rule.

Not to mention her chopins. And the sixties thought it had the word on platforms.

Repressing the urge to facepalm, Bianca sighs, straightens, and tries to make the most of the fact she is currently wearing something that screams 'courtesan'.

At least she's an upper-class courtesan. That makes all the difference, really.

iamnotstorm.livejournal.com

Sarah was still be-beaded, it was quite possible she hadn't gone home last night, and she had finally woken up, shuffled to the Bar for a cup of coffee and a couple aspirin and had been given a plate of toast and plain scrambled eggs as well, which she accepted happily enough, if a bit blearily.

So there you have it, not-quite nekked hungover superhero at the bar with a late breakfast for all your tagging needs.

('bout fifteen minutes left for lunch, then banished to the land of internet connectionlessness, slowtime = teh luff)

gondolin-noble.livejournal.com

Glorfindel has claimed one corner of the couch as his own, curled around a smaller harp . He has only just discovered that the bar will provide things other than what is simply practical. Slowly he works his way through the chords, coaxing out the rippling notes, trying to get a feel for the instrument before going further.

transgenic-max.livejournal.com

(Not-quite-OOM: Room 493. Max begins the process of trying to figure out how to fix Tool. Doom will inevitably result.

Millitimed to Monday night, as the mun is a ditz and forgot to post it then.)

sto-helit.livejournal.com

Susan in a booth nearby, head down on the table, not moving. An untouched glass of water sits in front of her folded arms.

edit: Same pup now walking outside by the lake, ignoring the wind that's picking up, a lone huddled figure.

[ ooc: Tags may be sporadic / slowtimed due to work. ]

bitter-innocent.livejournal.com

Edmond's doing better now that he's made a few acquaintances in the bar, but he's still looking for something to occupy his time. He's not made his way outside yet, but the young sailor might appreciate the lake for a change from the interior of the bar.
At the moment he might be found in a booth with a leather bound volume and a pen. He is fairly wrapped up in what he's writing, but don't be afraid to interrupt. Besides, he's one of the mun's few nice pups.

lvpd_sidle

Glitter is the one substance in the multiverse that will not get out of people's hair or clothing, no matter how much they might scrub at it.

But, in light of last night's successful mischief, Sara considers residual glitter to be a small price to pay.

Bother the smirking CSI.

rebel-falcon.livejournal.com

Because 'Mardi Gras' has a slightly different set of connotations in Australia, and the mun's feeling cracky:

there's a Han Solo, climbing up through an access panel on the Falcon and into the Bar. Which would be a welcome surprise, if it weren't for the apparent change in apparel that comes with it.

And the make-up.

And the heels.

Han stares at himself, frozen, for several long seconds.

...well, if that's the way it's gotta be, then. He sashays on in and heads for the Bar. Could use a drink. Something ... fruity.

lvpd_sidle

[OOM: It has been one week and Sara finds that life does go on.]

doc-venkman.livejournal.com

OOM: Back in New York, and it's October. Wedding plans, and booming business.

A familiar guy wearing a Ghostbuster jumpsuit, and a bit of ectoplasm in his hair opened the door.

"Oh, back here, huh. Hey guys, want to take a peek at the joint?" He glanced back, but then remembered, Egon and Ray had those new figures he brought back. Then Winston walked over, so there now was a black man's head peering over Peter's shoulder.

"So that's it, huh? That's the crazy place you told us about?"

"Yep."

"...right. Listen, I'm gonna go check the drywall upstairs, saw some cracks that got overlooked before. Can't have the place falling down around us you know."

"Have fun then." Peter replied, as he stepped into the bar, and watched his teammate and friend walk away. He let go of the door, and it closed. But was still there at least.

"Free as a bird." Peter grinned to himself, and went to get washed up before coming back downstairs to square his account, and get some food.

venusadept_2

By the fire can be seen a Felix. He's again trying to figure out the singing cube.

____________

Near the Observation Window is Captain Picard, with his customary tea (Earl Grey, hot).

____________

Either is open for conversation.

by-matchlight.livejournal.com

There is a little match girl sitting by the fire again today. She'd been found and ushered back to her room last night, but there is so much to see in the Bar.
As long as you're quiet and unobtrusive.
Wouldn't want to get thrown out.
She doesn't understand how Bar works, anyone care to spoil her with treats?

blond-bubbles.livejournal.com

A blond, teen Powerpuff is in the bar.

Unfortunately, she had missed all of the fun and mischief of Marti Gras. But she doesn't seem that bothered with it.

She's just kicking back and relaxing in a huge recliner in front of a lit fireplace. Just reading some articles out of Teen magazine. Making a weird face as she does so.

liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com

Liz Imbrie comes in, looking absolutely gleeful. It's March, and in her world, that is totally reason to get champagne from Bar and sit down at a table with a piece of red chalk and some brown paper.

She's getting chalk dust all over the champagne glass, and she doesn't look like she cares.

agent-eppes.livejournal.com

Don is just sitting in the corner of the bar. He has a beer in hand, as usual, and is kind of feelign a little lonely. Won't you comfort him?

ooc: may be slow time ahead and he mun apologises now

liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com

[OOM: This is her first warning.]

lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com

Once there was a being. Or an idea. Yes. Once there was an idea, which encompassed all ideas, and thus became a being because beings relate better to other beings than they do to pure ideas.

And the being was one concept our of seven that found itself, call it him for he self-identifies as male, he was one concept out of seven that called themselves a Family.

Families are difficult. There is love, and hate, and everything but indifference.

Ideas, however, are often divorced from emotion and sometimes this being found it hard to express to his siblings that he cared for them.

Sometimes it was easier than others.

latino_menace

Ramon's in the bar early, despite wishing he was still upstairs. But, things to do, and there are reasons why it's not a good idea to have weapons in his room right now. Something to do with the company.

Anyway, he's cleaning three pistols, a rifle and his sword. Bit tricky when one arm is virtually out of action but hey, he's got time and nothing else to do right now. Distractions would be welcome though.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

One undersized, battered prince.

Ask him about his encounters with his boss and a demon god-thing thingy. The compound fracture of the left arm, broken ribs, and truly impressive amount of bruising on the throat are still there.

Or attack him. Whatever.

bloodyrockgod

Early in the morning, Charlie leaves the Bar with Darien in tow for Las Vegas.

Not much later--or a lot later, depending on your perspective--they're back. Charlie has an ashy streak on his forehead and a contented expression.

He's glad he went.

dragon_twin

Melou's having trouble sleeping tonight. The dreams are back and he's had enough of them for one evening. Normally he'd go wake up Melehan, but there's something more interesting he can do than annoy his brother. He can do that any old time.

So, there's a teenage mostly-Welsh prince in the bar. He's brought money this time, so he can actually order something on his own. Sadly, the bar won't give him alcohol, so he's got a glass of something called "Coke" and is sitting in a booth, watching all the weird people go by.

sansa-stark.livejournal.com

A young woman in a blue silk dress enters through the Door, her entire body trembling. Two steps into the bar she stops abruptly and looks around.

It's a long look, mostly at the Bar and any who pass in front of her field of vision. She tries unsuccessfully to swallow.

"I...I..." she squeaks.

Welcome to Milliways, Sansa Stark. Please, someone come lessen her confusion. Or deepen it.

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

Last week, almost nobody ordered the specials, and several macho types paused to ask what the hell went into them before ordering the beers.

Well, you gotta listen to the public. Besides, it's March First.

Today is Beer Day

All beers half-off.
Recommendations:

Gold Gull Pilsner (2105)
Thule Lager (2012)
Spegils Pale Lager (1995)
17th Century Icelandic Ale (1688)

Eddie doublechecks that they've got enough mugs, and then turns to the Bar. "Welcome to Beer Day, folks. It's a traditional holiday in Iceland, and all our recommended beers this evening come from there. But as always, we've got whatever you want, from whenever you want, so stop by Happy Hour and say hi."

qsilver-md.livejournal.com

Kevin is in the bar.

He has no coffee, because he's observing Lent. As he is a caffeine addict, this is proving to have a marked effect on his concentration. He's trying to read over Darien's test results.

not_that_spike

Some nights are just like this: all about sitting and smoking and drinking and smiling. Even though his mind likes to be busy, Spike doesn't need the distraction of a book or a newspaper or a deck of cards: he's got a lot going on in there, and most of it? It's fucking great.

Idly, as he sits and smokes and drinks and smiles, his fingers take a few cigarettes out of the pack. He starts building shapes with them, trying to get them to stand up next to one another. But he doesn't really care. It's just a thing to be doing with his hands. After all, his favorite thing to do with his hands is... well, she's still in their room getting dressed. For a moment he wonders if she's going to wear that green dress, but probably not. He'll take her in a green dress or jeans and t-shirt or her little fig-leaf bikini or one of his shirts and nothing else.

All in all, it's already been a really good day. Signs point to it continuing that way, even after the makeshift house of cigarettes falls over. It doesn't bother him at all: a guy can always start a project like that over and over again.

symbiote-venom.livejournal.com

Venom wanders back downstairs with a smile. Well, what passes for a smile when it comes to him, which looks rather like the sort of face a predator might make when eying helpless prey. But that's besides the point. The point is, he's downstairs again.

He takes a seat at a secluded booth in the corner, still smiling at a particularly pleasant memory from Mardi Gras.

Feel free to bug the rather bored...man? Thing? Whatever Venom counts as.

go-between.livejournal.com

Richard and Gary relaxing after Mardi Gras.

Warnings for drunken guy behavior, light pr0n, and BAMF!

tibetanmethod

[OOM: Last night, Dale Cooper talks a little too much before bed. Man's best friend: his tape recorder.]

b-a-summers.livejournal.com

Buffy comes downstairs, cheeks flushed but looking all the better for the fact she's freshly showered and clothed after a nice long run. The run actually lasted most of the morning. Not much else for a girl to do around here, after all.

So it's with a smile that she settles down with a cup of hot chocolate and a few cookies. Ah, the life of a Slayer. How we envy thee.

doc-lecter.livejournal.com

Dr. Hannibal Lecter is in the bar. He's two-legged, well-dressed and not wearing a penguin mask.

He is sitting at the Harpsichord, playing through each of Bach's Goldburg Variations, perfectly.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

The Bar must be trying to tell her something, because Molly's back in Milliways, and without the broomstick she promised to bring for Cimorene or the potion she'd said she'd bring for Corporal Klinger.

At least she's in her own clothes this time. She gets a milkshake from the bar (thank you Xander!) and settles at a table, seemingly lost in thought.

Care to interupt? She'd love it.

shufti

Shufti comes out of the infirmary, looking and feeling somewhat better than last night. She goes over to the bar and gets dinner and a glass of milk. She eats quietly, watching the bar.

_______________________________________

Guppy is in a booth by the trilobite tank, with his sign up:

The doctor is in

In the meantime, a large house of cards is emerging on the table top.

[ooc: Mun is back]

inquisitivehero

[OOM: Where-ever you go there you are...]

A tall dark haired man in lab clothes and glasses comes in the door, stops, and peers around curiously.

"What in the heavens?"

Hank McCoy was headed towards the commissary at Stark Laboratories when he walked through the door into the hall. Or it was supposed to be the hallway. He peers around him at the bar, looking very confused.

(ooc: Note - This Hank McCoy looks nothing like his more furred self. He does not remember Milliways and comes from a very different timeline than the normal one does. That said? Have at! Also many thanks to mirkat for the use of her OOM!!)

balletrat

*Meg's sitting on a stool, leaning back against the bar, her coffee mug in her hands.

She's wearing glitter paint around her eyelids and cheekbones; not blinding, today, just tactfully sparkly.

Blame Mardi Gras. She liked the effect.*

elvish-hunter.livejournal.com

The Hunter is back in the bar tonight, eating something vaguely soup-ish, with bread and wine. She's had worse.

Her arrow case is on the opposite chair, her bow and sword laying across the table, but enough out of her way.

Dinner seems like the best time to get a feel for the people, watch who they are and what they do.

badinlatin

Ash Wednesday, bar-time. It's not at home, but Mal'd been doing some figuring after sitting in the bar for a spell, and he remembered what today...could mean, to certain people.

He's eating rice because of the Chinese background in his 'verse. Yeah. He's also sort of grumpy, but he probably won't tell you why~~, seeing as how he won't even tell me, but whatever~~.

[ooc: OMG slowtime plz. Brain melted and I need to go mop it up now.]

stopevilhand.livejournal.com

The front door opens, admitting a scruffy-looking man in a plaid shirt and faded jeans with a guitar slung across his back.

The inside of the bar appears to be bigger than the outside looked like it should be, but a bar's a bar. And it's not like he's never seen dimensional incongruences before.

So, he just heads over to the bar and has a seat. Bartender oughta come by in a minute.

[ooc: only around for an hour or so, but slowtime is always <3]

and-far-away.livejournal.com

Sharpe comes out of the office and looks around the room.

He's looking for Svava, but anyone else can talk to him too.

blue_ajah

She glides down the stairs into the room, carrying a familiar leather-bound journal, one that is beginning to show clear signs of wear. Soon after, Moiraine is settled in her preferred seat, with a clear view of the room.

The journal lies open before her on the table, and a cup of tea steams near at hand. She is evidently studying something in particular, flipping back and forth between whatever she is reading and a once-empty page where she is making notes.

learningtosee.livejournal.com

Stella is sitting at a table in the bar, pondering a dilemma.

She came down tonight, looked around and spotted the door. After several double takes she slowly approached it, and took a peek to see what was on the other side. She assumed what she saw what she assumed was her home. It smelled like it.

She didn't step through though, and she's sitting trying to figure out why. Spike could come and go but would she be able to? If she left would that be it?

She sighs and then takes a sip of tea, feeling a bit alone.

Come and keep her company!

tibetanmethod

The title is The Tibetan Book of the Dead, and the name on the cover is W.Y. Evans-Wentz.

The name of the work, Dale Cooper knows, is really Bardo Thodol.

But his copy -- intentionally misnamed for publishing concerns or no -- is well-thumbed, and he's sitting at a table with a cup of coffee, and a slice of cherry pie.

Every day you should give yourself a present. This counts.

notanormalfox.livejournal.com

And the Federal Government's out in Full force tonight!

Well no, not really. There's an Agent inna bar doodling on a notepad instead of making notes, mentally turning over the whole world of the bar and...thinking.

The doodling's unusually good.

He could really use someone to pull him outta his funk.

no-more-chianti.livejournal.com

Ash Wednesday.

(Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope)

Clarice is sitting at the bar with a tall cup of coffee, brooding over it more than she's drinking it.

She hasn't had the greatest of days, all things considered.

(Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound?)

She's on the lookout for Security in general, and for a few specific individuals in particular.

This does not mean that she wants to see them.

undignified

Since his mun won't be getting sleep like she wanted ... there's a Wes at the Bar, with some lum.

Probably some Oreos, too. He hasn't had any of those in a while.

He might, possibly, be quieter than usual, and a little more thoughtful.

Possibly.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

Ginny, Is at a table.. She looks a little pale alot of green and there is a bottle of Butter beer that's just been sipped on..What's wrong? You would have to ask her..if she would tell you .. she needs a Friend.. or two..

Current Mood: sick

shakenstrfaith.livejournal.com

Ash Wednesday. While she couldn't attend mass, or get ashes due to being Bound, Scully did go with the fasting part.
She spent most of the day going over data in the infirmary, and was only having her one meal of the day now in the bar.
Meatless obviously.

prydeful

[OOM: And there they are.]

If you've ever taught sixth-grade, you might understand why the woman who walks in is giggling at the paper she's reading.

Because no, really, you can't give someone an A for a paper that claims Elijah and Moses were mutants, even if it's very creative.

She gets one of these almost every year.

And then Kitty looks up and blinks. "...Um."

This is not her kitchen.

river_meimei

The fire seems to always be burning, at Milliways; it's atmospheric. Only the specifically traumatized, those whose metabolisms favor ice, and otherwise weird people don't find it soothing to sit in front of a crackling blaze, stretch their feet out, and watch the flames.

River is in many ways deeply weird, but not in this specific case.

Which is why she's currently stretched out on the floor before the fire. She's lying on her back, palms flat to the floor, eyes closed and face relaxed into blankness; it's not entirely clear whether or not she's asleep.