milliways_bar | Mar. 8th, 2006

Mar. 8th, 2006

iris-angel.livejournal.com

Why is it that he must always come into this bar through his refrigerator? For once, he would like to open up his fridge and get a beer and go back to sprawling on the couch. It is very inconvenient to open the fridge to a bar waiting on the other side. However, when the bar beckons you to come, you do as the bar wants. So Methos is now sitting at the bar drinking a beer and wondering how to get rid of the bar that apparently resides in his fridge.

Current Mood: thirsty

mortisbelle.livejournal.com

Vampire at the bar. Not that she currently looks like a vampire, mind you.

Also, she is again wearing the thing Bar had her wearing for Mardi Gras.

Why? Because she looks good in it.

ucav-tinman.livejournal.com

There was too much rushing through his mind. It felt...

It felt like the first time he had accessed Primo.

With one hand on his temple, Eddie rushed downstairs - uniformed. One hand held a uniform cap from the second World War, and he stopped, with that in hand, at the bar. And there, he began the process. There were things to distribute for a few people, and now, he had no time. Even with the heaviest music he'd heard, his heart had never beat so fast. But he made himself place things, one by one, on the bar.

( Ray Stantz )

( John Sheppard )

( Bonnie Barstow )

( Windows 95 )

( Laini )

( Michael & Kitt )

With all of his notes left with the bar, Eddie pulled the sleeves of his flightsuit up over his arms. A new one - not the charred one that he had worn for the run on the alternate New York. He pulled gloves onto his hands. Finally, he placed his room key on the Bar's surface, and he watched it fade. His hand bade a fond farewell, and then he was on his way to the door. There was a desolate North Korean battlefield waiting for his presence.

(Need to talk to the plane before he leaves? Please do.)

firstfallenstar.livejournal.com

The devil occasionally goes disguised as a beautiful woman. Generally when there's something to gain from it. Getting into the confidences of a judge who might be useful in blocking her enemies' pawns counts.

She hadn't expected to end up in Milliways. Her surprise might be easily mistaken as that of someone new. She'd certainly never been here in this guise.

So, newest of Milliways' devil contingent in the bar again. Have at.

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

[Short OOM: Aeryn is told what lies in store for her.]

Current Mood: scared

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda is outside wearing her sweats looking for a friend. If you're out here it might be you. Especially if you are pink and like cucumbers. But really it'ssuch a beautiful day that the immortal is just enjoying the fresh air.

Come chat. She wont bite.

[OOC: ~~Must Slowtime for a couple of hours for work. will be~~ back ~~as soon as I can.~~]

teyfera.livejournal.com

[OOM: Teyfera, scared, hungry, and alone, receives a visitor who helps her make the decision to come downstairs.]

It is a quiet, very shy, and still frightened Teyfera who appears at the bottom of the stairs. She peers out into the main area or a long time from that vantage point, barely breathing, trying to build her confidence. Finally, she takes a deep breath, and, her gaze darting around everywhere, she turns towards Bar. She fastens her gaze there and almost runs to a seat nearest the stair exit and slips onto the barstool. She sits there for a long moment, her hands flat on Bar and then speaks in a quiet voice.

"Bar? May I have breakfast please?"

A large plate with traditional Irda food appears, along with a glass, and a pitcher of orange juice. With a small whimper, she digs in, determinedly not looking around, but her senses tuned to the merest sound around her.

boundxkitty

Elizabeth's in bar. She's curled up in a booth with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea. Oddly enough, today she's wearing a skirt that doesn't end at her thigh but one that falls to her ankles and when she spins flows out in a circle. The mun likes to call them 'fun skirts.' Currently the skirt is pooled around her on the booth.

Come say hi the the wereleopard that's only been back in the bar for the last couple days.

[ooc:Mun will only be around until noon central time, though slowtime is always welcome after that.]

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

OOM: Halloween in Gotham

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Did you know that even a subway turnstile can be a door to Milliways? Till this very moment, Alexander Knox had not idea this was the case. But instead of being on the Blue Line back to his apartment, he was in the Bar. And glad that he could get some rest before heading home.

He drops into the first chiar he sees, not bothering to take off hat or coat (not that he always does). It's been a loooooong night, and he is bushed. And hungry.

[ooc: slowtime possible, and mun has a cold so his RPing might be as tired as Knox's answers.]

deadirishdemon.livejournal.com

Pointyface inna booth.

Hey, it makes a great conversation starter.

Cordy's attempts at domestication are paying off - that's root beer he's drinking, not the real thing.

red-blossom.livejournal.com

One five year old redhead superheroine inna bar, eating a PB&J. What's so different in this situation? Nothing...Well, other than the fact that she's sitting upside down on the rafter eating it.

Come by and say hi!

hanild.livejournal.com

There's a pretty Rohirric princess sitting by the fire, singing quietly to herself. She doesn't care that last time she sang she got into a nasty argument, if she wants to sing, she's going to. Listeners are welcome, even if you don't like it.

lvpd_sidle

Two CSIs are seated near a fireplace, a squirming baby between them. The CSIs are having a muted conversation.

The baby is having the time of her life tugging on her daddy's shirt.

Bother either or both.

[ooc: Will be here off and on this afternoon and early evening.]

judo-rachel.livejournal.com

Rachel Moore is in the bar.

Still.

And still in the bunny outfit from the day before as well, to her dismay...

Drinking some green tea at the bar on a stool. Kinda bordering to herself and lost in thought.

darling-alexi.livejournal.com

Alexi has lunch. Today, that's a sandwich and onion rings.
She's at a table with said lunch, as well as a notebook, which she writes something in every now and then. Occasionally she glances at the space where the front door should be, but isn't, despite seeming to be when she's not looking directly.

virii-twins.livejournal.com

There was, once again, only one twin in the bar. Though, anyone who'd seen the lone twin previously would probably get the distinct impression that this was the other one. Sometimes for as difficult as it was to tell them apart, it was incredibly easy at the same time.

He was leaning against the railing, watching the show outside the observation window and sipping at something murky from a mug, he was also glasses-less for once, eyes completely black, except for the occasional flicker of green, like fire through an opal.

He'll more than likely talk to you if you introduce yourself. They're both like that, even when there's only one of them.

(again with the stupid demanding pups. ~~I leave in like, ten minutes, then it'll be nothin' for like, an hour or so while I get to work, At work now, so, patchy/slowtime tags.~~ Aaaaaand, lunchtime, about twenty minutes, then banishment from internet until I get home in like, six hours. If that works for you, g'head and tag.)

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

After this There is a sword laying on the ground next to the door. Anyone that knows anything about sword could tell that this is a good quality and has been kept in good condition.

[OOC: it is okay for someone to pick up and for whatever reason or everyone can leave it be and the owner will be back.]

shufti

[oom: After this.]

Shufti is being grabbed by the throat by a large man with a sword as she falls backwards through the door. He throws her to the floor before crying out with pain. Summonning all her strength, she shoves him back out of the door and slams it, holding the door shut until she is sure he isn't coming back through.

She drops the boltless crossbow and falls to her hands and knees, trembling like a leaf and getting her breath back.

[ooc: ~~*flees to tutorial*~~ Back ~~latest 2.30pm EST. Will pick up tags.~~]

scapepig

There is a pig by the fire with a large map.

Why not see what he's up to?

[ooc: Those of you interested in sheep distraction that haven't seen him yet, he's nearly ready to recruit.]

skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com

One former Valkyrie down in the bar, looking through a book and humming quietly to herself.

What? Things are certainly better now, and its not morbid to be looking through Afterlives: Earth 2000, really.

by-matchlight.livejournal.com

Sweet little girl by the fireplace. Someone might nickname her Cinderella soon, though she won't have any idea what you're talking about. She has that look that small children get when plotting something. That should probably be interrupted, before Yrael finds her chasing him down with doll clothes.

stbethadettes

It's been a long time since Beth's come outside for any target practice, but there's a grim reality that's in the back of her mind almost always, despite her mostly successful attempt to take each day as it comes.

It's a hell of a lot nicer to do that here.

But time's not working the same way it used to, here or out there. And when she ends up having to go back to Cooksfield, life's going to be twice as difficult.

Her hands are pretty steady, and her aim wasn't bad to begin with. She's nowhere near as good as Spike, but she's been a damn attentive student for more than one reason.

The 1812 Overture plays in her head; she shoots where the boom of cannons goes in the song's climax until she needs to reload.

That fallen tree branch has seen better days.

whitest_witch

Jadis is curled quietly in her usual chair by the fire, notebook and pen in hand. She was most impressed by these modern pens - they just kept on writing! Perhaps she would have to get hold of one of these 'computers' - it seemed that a whold library could be stored in such a thing - but for now, she's contented with pen and paper. She's making notes about Hell. It was very interesting.

bloodyrockgod

Charlie, with guitar, of course, sits near the fireplace and sings.

( how pleasant is the wind tonight )

Sometimes the saddest songs are the right ones.

beautiful_ann

Things have been -- maybe -- a little better. Still no paycheck, but audiences have been a little better the last couple of days.

All in all, Ann's happy to see the bar tonight. It occurs to her, as she perches a barstool, that coming here after work could become a habit. Especially if it keeps appearing in the makeup room.

Last chance to hit on her before love catches her. Not to mention a number of other things.

She orders a drink and settles in to people-watch.

[OOC: Warning for possible slow tagging.]

ways-lust.livejournal.com

Lust walks down the stairs and heads to the bar. After training one very brilliant person in the ways of Alchemy, Miho (while dedicated) isn't quite up to the same level. She needs a drink and orders one at the counter.

i_vanquish_evil

This is Van Helsing.

This is Van Helsing sitting in the bar.

This is Van Helsing sitting in the bar with his dog.

They're both having a drink.

the_antiangst

This is not the gratuitous icon post you are looking for.
Probably is the dead twentysomething drag queen you're looking for, though, should you be looking for Angel for some reason.
Couch by fireplace, pizza (pineapple-bacon-extra cheese), hot chocolate, fuzzy gender line, people-watching.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Intensely aware of his brothers presence, Random doesn't quite lurk... Simply rests unobtrusively in a booth. He's got a cigarette and a glass of scotch, and he's entirely failing to relax.

But he is getting some thinking done. Which is the sort of cold comfort he likes to pretend matters. But there you go.

Please, please distract him.

ineedavicodin.livejournal.com

He stumbled into the bar, cane in hand, a string of curses on his tongue. He righted himself, and looked around blearily. His leg spasmed and his hand tightened on the handle of his cane. He stumbled to the nearest booth and eased into it, hands on his thigh. The pain receeded slowly, and he raised his hands to comb through his hair with a weary sigh.

The last several months had been hell on his leg and his emotions.

~*~*~*~
He rarely used the cane around the apartment. The space was so small, and the furniture strategicaly places to provide support if he needed it. He'd rarely needed it, until Stacy came back and messed with his head. Six years was a long time to hold a grudge, but he just couldn't let go. Until he slept with her. Probably not his smartest move, but extremely self satisfying, and a horrible realisation came with the after shocks.

He didn't love her anymore. Not the way he once had. Not the way he wanted to. He'd always love her, of course. But he wasn't in love with her. He didn't want her back. It had all been a test, a game. A mistake. The scene with Mark in the stairwell was just the final straw. He was finally ready to let her go. Once and for all. No more guilt, no more blame. Just five years and eight months of memories. Some happy, some tense and uncomfortable. Laughter and tears, the whole prism of emotions.

And now, an affair. She'd slept with him. He didn't want to be the other guy. So he let her go. Once nad for all. Physically, and emotionally. Wilson had tried to get him to talk about it. He couldn't find the words. Wilson hadn't pushed, he knew House didn't express his emotions well. He tended to bury himself in his work instead, and it didn't escape Wilson's knowledge that he'd picked up a new language. Hindi this time. Impressive.

Also a good sign he was miserable.

His work and his bike were his only escapes. He spent a lot of time alone in his apartment. Reading, playing his piano, sleeping. He snapped at his staff, which in itself wasn't really unusual. But eve he knew it was worse. He hovered dangerously close to an imaginary line drawn in the sand. He very nearly crossed it.
~*~*~*~

He grabbed a passing wait rat and ordered a milkshake and onion rings. Ah, the comforts of home. His eyes drifted to his ringless finger. The ring Lust had given him, the one Edward had warned him about, lay dull and lifeless in his pocket. He'd stopped wearing it the first day back in Jersey, but he'd kept it close.

[OOC: He's lived out recent canon since leaving the bar last week. Baltimore, luring Stacy to his bed, the migrane, the placebo morphine injection, snapping at Wilson...He's not in a good mood. At all. Because on top of that, the healing he'd done on his leg didn't hold up outside of the bar. That? Makes him grumpy. Approach at your own risk.]

elvish-hunter.livejournal.com

The Hunter walks in from the lakeside door, bow & arrows strapped to her back, sword at her side. She doesn't trust anyone here enough (save for one) to leave her weapons outside. She'd rather not come inside at all, but even the Hunter must eat and whoever told her the demon bunnies weren't very edible was right.

She orders some simple meat and bread, and some water, and then chooses a dark table to finish her meal. People watching is par for the course.

gabriel_tam

It's growing late in the evening again on Osiris, and Gabriel has been working on speaker's notes for a series of upcoming events.

He hasn't been back to Milliways since the day his candidacy was announced. That same day had seen a negotiated resolution with his son's wife, and a quiet evening with River. It had been, in effect, one of the longest and most important days of his life in some ways.

But he hasn't been back since; and in the back of his mind he's been thinking about it more and more. He's thinking about it, and about River and Simon, when he leaves his office, in fact--

--and is, finally, unsurprised when the door opens into the bar instead of to the hallway.

"Wŏ dŏng. So that's the way of it."

Gabriel straightens his coat, automatically, and heads toward the bar.

give-us-candy.livejournal.com

There should be singing. But there isn't.
There should be attempts at rudeness. But there aren't.
There should be schemes. There are.

"Over here. Nice big place to spread out."

The smallest, Barrel, skeletal but not thin, throws out a roll of parchment the Bar gives them ~~to keep them occupied and not drawing on the walls~~. Lock, the next, the devil spawn, sets down in front of the parchment, jug of charcoal in lap. Shock, the eldest (well, she's the bossiest at the very least,) and the one with the tall witch hat, walks the perimeter of the parchment, appraising it carefully.

Careful you don't step on their work. They're fairly serious about what they're doing.

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

He forgot, last month. Just clean... forgot.

It's BACK.

Name Your Own Cocktail Night.

You make up a name.

I make up a drink.

Stump me and drink free for the evening.

Eddie leans behind the Bar, under his big chalked sign, with an extra-large bottle of water and a notepad--he keeps track of these. Got a whole little book going.

song_tra_bong

You probably didn't see her leave, but here's Mary Anne coming in through the front door. The observant in the crowd might notice that it looks more like an apartment behind her than the Vietnam jungle.

She takes a seat in a booth, just people watching for the moment. Wanna buy her a drink? Ask her to buy you a drink? Have at.

jackdriscoll.livejournal.com

[ Before and After.

It's in the subtext. On the Venture, Jack Driscoll and Ann Darrow find new ways to talk. A reenactment and extension of a scene in King Kong. Some of the dialogue has been lifted directly from canon.

Back in the future, Jack tells his story to Mary Anne. Still in progress. ]

hellobugbite

He's had this nightmare often enough by this point that it's almost ceased to be terrifying.

Flying and falling and crashing and he can see their faces bright with planet-shine, Biggs and the Talons and--nonono no no not him can't be dead can't be no--waking, stumbling in the vague direction of the 'fresher, the door opens and--

somehow the 'fresher's turned into a tapcafe, and Hobbie stands there in a daze, rubbing his eyes and blinking furiously against the light.

diamndcourtesan.livejournal.com

Sometimes a girl just craves a little human company.

Especially after coming into the Bar (fully dressed, even!) and receiving a letter like this.

So. Tall French redhead at a table with, at the moment, downcast eyes and thin lips. Bar has graciously provided a mango lassi. When she looks up to look away from the letter, you might just be the one to catch her eye.

swinging-cod.livejournal.com

Well, looky here.

There's a Jayne in the bar.

Clearly not expecting to end up there, Jayne pauses, then rolls his eyes, shrugging.

Might as well have a beer.

He bellies up to Bar. "Sam Adams." A pause. "Please."

The bottle appears.

"Xiexie."

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

Angela's a little less pissed off to be in the bar today.

Not much less. But it's something.

She's sitting at a table, writing in a notebook, a paper one.

Her handwriting is atrocious. She's about the only one who can read her strange combination of chicken scratches and shorthand symbols.

That's sort of the point.

She would not mind company.

It will take her mind off of the fact that she's still trapped.

jedizekk.livejournal.com

Zekk inna bar at a booth with an entrance post. And a mug of lomin ale, because, once again, being Joined to a girl kriffing sucks.

She's off somewhere thinking. Which means, of course, he has to listen to every vapin' word.

Zekk's sort of getting tired of listening. Too bad lomin ale can't mute out head voices. With a sigh, the Jedi turns back to his drink. Distractions? Would be kriffing astral right about now.

pig-transcends.livejournal.com

"Ah, Milliways," says the Transcendent Pig, who is currently perched on an ottoman not far from the fireplace.

Funny, he wasn't there a moment ago.

jack_f_twist

Jack's looking mighty scruffy round the edges, but a man don't need to look his best to get a drink, so he's down here, leaning against the Bar, nursing a beer and what looks to be a sore hand.

Not to mention a smoke. Then again, that ain't exactly news.

gondolin-noble.livejournal.com

(OOM: Glorfindel shares the joy of Arda Marred with his cousin. Rated L for Laughter.)

dragonvolunteer.livejournal.com

Cimorene is seated at a small table with an old book and a smile. She's wearing a white shirt and loose fitting trousers today, and her feet are propped up on another chair as she tips back in her own. But she won't tip over backwards. Certainly not.

evilerrands.livejournal.com

Lilah.

Bar.

Martini.

Pile of papers that she may be studying intently, or may be completely disinterested in.

(Also? Plotlocked. Say sorry, but would you really want to tag her with a lameass entry post like this? I thought not. She's rather embarrased on behalf of her mun.)

kitchen_maid

Amy, over by the fire, curled up and settled in confortably with tea and a book.

She's not paying a whole lot of attention to the book, instead watching the comings and goings of the bar.

Company would be lovely.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

Jack's not in the bar tonight, but out by the lake, going for a walk. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, his breath clouding as it leaves his mouth. It's getting warmer though, and he's sort of gotten used to the cold after spending winter outside the bar northeast of Toronto.

It's a little scary how quickly he's settled back into the bar again; not that he has a choice, considering he's been stuck here. That's been a mixed blessing. He's not exactly eager to leave; after all, most of the people he cares about are here, and he can't see them outside. But then there's someone he used to see here all the time, someone he hasn't seen, someone he's been trying to push out of his thoughts since he got back, though everything he sees here reminds him of her. He's tried to focus on who is here, instead of who isn't, but it hasn't quite worked.

A year outside the bar and he still misses Chris. Not as much as he did at first, but certainly still enough to try and not think of her that often. No sense dwelling on something that can't happen.

He shakes himself, trying to push the thoughts away, think of something else as he slowly trudges by the lake. Some company would probably help.

ff-ambassador.livejournal.com

Inara walks into the bar, rolling her neck slightly. She's ready for a drink and some relaxing time. She heads to the bar and takes a stool, grinning when a glass of red wine appears before her. She sits back and sips gently, giving Bar a light pat.

reluctantcleric.livejournal.com

The pup's been a bit quiet of late, but he's in the bar anyway.
Dead, Bound, and loving it. He's relaxing with a book by the fire. Bar decided he should look into some Tolkien for a change of pace.
He's finding it very interesting so far.
So, dead Cleric reading some Fellowship. Dare you approach?

col-cardboard.livejournal.com

[OOM: Last night in Room 77, Jaina finally tells Jag what happened on the mission with Aeryn.

Jag doesn't take it well. Rated AWU for Anger and Woe caused by Unfaithfulness.]

twiststheblade

[OOM: In which Miho meets a book, and a book meets Miho. Starring Miho and a book, with special guest appearance by Goldilocks.]

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

[And I BET you all just missed them didn'tcha? ^^]

The door to Libria opens.

And a man steps through. Former Cleric (No, it'd never be Former. He'd always be Cleric John Preston)

Former Servant of the Tetragrammaton. (That's not right either.)

John.

John Preston took his son's hand and shouldered the weight that he carried. Frowning-he glanced back to the door.

Only to watch it vanish.
The relief on the man's face is almost painful to watch.

"....Thanks."

Let it not be said that Bar doesn't understand.
Doing his best to avoid the patrons, not on purpose mind-he's just tired he leads his son up the steps to 728.

Current Mood: accomplished

homeless-pard.livejournal.com

There is a woman sitting by the fire, and it almost seems as if she does not seek to be noticed, near shrinking into the shadows of the hearth. In truth, she's no longer incredibly comfortable indoors, especially so soon after being cursed...but some things must be faced and beaten.

And so there is a Khemrys, stitching carefully upon a blanket that pools across her lap.

guppy_sandhu

Doc.
Bar.
Sleepy expression of someone who has been working nights.

agirllost

Kim's outside and nearing the end of a night time run.

She's ignoring the cold and has been running long enough that her body's kind of warm anyway.

She stops and takes a sip from the water bottle she's left near a tree.

just-a-soldier.livejournal.com

[OOM: The aurora chair. Hidden memories. Things heat up.]

Current Mood: sore

future-leader.livejournal.com

John isn't on the verge of tears. Really. There's just sand in his eyes. This happens when you live in the desert. There is, however, a newspaper clutched in a deathgrip in one hand as the not!crying ten-year-old races in.

And then stops dead, as he hadn't been expecting to end up in Milliways.