(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 01:42 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com[OOM: Return to Innocence, part two: baby!Cable and big sister Rachel have a night in. Rated DW for domestic weirdness.]
Mar. 17th, 2006
ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 02:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
latino_menaceRamon's been given something with his usual ordered bottle of tequila, which is why he's chuckling in his booth. It's a newspaper from his world, the day after he was broken out of jail. The prison riot made the front page, obviously, and reactions from various law enforcement people are downright hilarious.
He's a bit disappointed that credit wasn't given where it was due - nothing would make him happier than seeing Bauer's name and picture handed out to the world. But there's a nice mugshot of himself in there, looking good and badass, he thinks. Unavoidable, given that he was spotted running from a chopper in downtown LA.
Few things cheer him up more than the public embarrassment of the law. Ramon orders a fat Cuban cigar and grins. Come poke him. The good mood might be contagious.
He's a bit disappointed that credit wasn't given where it was due - nothing would make him happier than seeing Bauer's name and picture handed out to the world. But there's a nice mugshot of himself in there, looking good and badass, he thinks. Unavoidable, given that he was spotted running from a chopper in downtown LA.
Few things cheer him up more than the public embarrassment of the law. Ramon orders a fat Cuban cigar and grins. Come poke him. The good mood might be contagious.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 02:20 amtimsbooks.livejournal.comThe real Tim is sitting in the bar, a cup of tea in his hands. He's kinda distracted, and trying not to think about who Hellspawn has slept with, so, he's singing.
"Whenever life gets you down
Keeps you wearing a frown
And the gravy train has left you behind
And when you're all out of hope
Down at the end of your rope
And nobody's there to throw you a line
If you ever get so low that you don't know which way to go
Come on and take a walk in my shoes
Never worry bout a thing
Got the world on a string
Cus I've got the cure for all of my blues...."
Someone might want to stop him before he belts out the next line.
"Whenever life gets you down
Keeps you wearing a frown
And the gravy train has left you behind
And when you're all out of hope
Down at the end of your rope
And nobody's there to throw you a line
If you ever get so low that you don't know which way to go
Come on and take a walk in my shoes
Never worry bout a thing
Got the world on a string
Cus I've got the cure for all of my blues...."
Someone might want to stop him before he belts out the next line.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 07:52 amnot-one-drop.livejournal.comMal is sitting at a booth for the first time in a week and a half, sipping coffee and just generally relaxing. Or, y'know, trying too, because on the table is a book that Bar gave him.
It reads:
He has been very carefully not looking at it for the last five minutes. He'd gladly welcome a distraction.
Not to worry, this is all perfectly normal
So the baby's on the way; what every expectant father should know.
So the baby's on the way; what every expectant father should know.
He has been very carefully not looking at it for the last five minutes. He'd gladly welcome a distraction.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:06 amvirii-twins.livejournal.comTwins in the bar.
Not that this was by any means an uncommon occurrance.
They were still playing with the mancala set that Bar had given them the day before. It was entirely possible that they'd been playing with it since she'd given it to them. Always difficult to tell with the Twins.
They had moved from the small table near the fire to one of the other somewhat larger, though still small, tables closer to the observation window. They liked the way the brightly colored game looked in the oddly-colored reflected light of the end of the universe.
Go ahead and destract them.
Not that this was by any means an uncommon occurrance.
They were still playing with the mancala set that Bar had given them the day before. It was entirely possible that they'd been playing with it since she'd given it to them. Always difficult to tell with the Twins.
They had moved from the small table near the fire to one of the other somewhat larger, though still small, tables closer to the observation window. They liked the way the brightly colored game looked in the oddly-colored reflected light of the end of the universe.
Go ahead and destract them.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:58 aminquisitiveheroHank McCoy sits at a booth, watching the bar, not seeing really, any of it, and drinking coffee, a lot of it. Remains of breakfast sit nearby and Hank sits, eyes dark, as the activity of the bar moves around him.
Bone-, and soul-, weary doctor and scientist in the bar.
Bone-, and soul-, weary doctor and scientist in the bar.
My First Multi Pup Post (Amanda and Prue)
Mar. 17th, 2006 09:57 amamanda-darieux.livejournal.comSitting at a table are two women. THey seems to be disagreeing on something. On one side of the booth is an immortal, Amanda and on the other is a dead witch, Prue.
If one has good hearing or is close enough the conversation is going something like,
Prue: "No"
Amanda: "Please, I would be willing to pay and it would be a really nice addition."
Prue: "Have you talked to him about it?"
And so on.
Please interupt we wouldn't want tempers to flare or anything would we?
If one has good hearing or is close enough the conversation is going something like,
Prue: "No"
Amanda: "Please, I would be willing to pay and it would be a really nice addition."
Prue: "Have you talked to him about it?"
And so on.
Please interupt we wouldn't want tempers to flare or anything would we?
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 10:15 amqsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.comDarien.
Bar.
Coffee anna bagel.
..yes, he's waiting to taunt Kevin with his caffinated goodness.
Bar.
Coffee anna bagel.
..yes, he's waiting to taunt Kevin with his caffinated goodness.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 10:24 amsouvlakifan.livejournal.comSchanke's been trying to cut down on his food and drink intake since running through the last of the cash in his wallet. His credit cards were almost certainly cancelled upon his death, after all, and withdrawals from his checking account would be too suspicious.
Even so, he can't go without food completely, so he's watched his tab begin to steadily creep upward again. He's even foregone his weekly copy of Police Gazette to go with the coffee and donut breakfast he's currently working through at the bar.
Which means that, without anything to read, the detective is looking around the bar hoping for something interesting.
Even so, he can't go without food completely, so he's watched his tab begin to steadily creep upward again. He's even foregone his weekly copy of Police Gazette to go with the coffee and donut breakfast he's currently working through at the bar.
Which means that, without anything to read, the detective is looking around the bar hoping for something interesting.
jack_f_twist[OOM: Time to come down off the mountain.]
There's the hurried sound of boots thudding down the stairs, and Jack Twist swings into the bar, jaw tight and knuckles white, gripping a mostly empty flour sack slung over his shoulder. A few crumpled bills get slammed down on the surface of the Bar, and he stalks over to the front door.
When he opens it, there's dusty rushing Texas wind, smell of dirt and gasoline and there's the arc of wide burned blue sky.
And then there is only the door slamming.
There's the hurried sound of boots thudding down the stairs, and Jack Twist swings into the bar, jaw tight and knuckles white, gripping a mostly empty flour sack slung over his shoulder. A few crumpled bills get slammed down on the surface of the Bar, and he stalks over to the front door.
When he opens it, there's dusty rushing Texas wind, smell of dirt and gasoline and there's the arc of wide burned blue sky.
And then there is only the door slamming.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 11:32 ame_delmarIt's not really all that long after Jack heads out the door that Ennis is downstairs, too. Long enough that he doesn't have to see Jack disappear, but he couldn't sit around in that room, not even for a minute. He doesn't have to stop at the bar for a drink; he's got a bottle that was left in the room. Screw the fact that it's still morning, screw the the fact that people'll see, screw them, screw the bar, screw fucking Jack Twist. Ennis hobbles his way over to the fire, the bottle in one hand, a glimmer of metal showing through the fingers of the other.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 11:50 amlethe-forgets.livejournal.comLethe is contentedly curled up in a visible booth - very neatly, mind you, it simply wouldn't do to be getting herself all crinkled. Especially after the considerable effort that went into getting herself to this point. (Modern clothing is still terribly confusing and far too complicated, in her opinion.)
So, yes ... little nymph looking rather pretty. She's carefully watching the people as they pass, perhaps waiting for someone in particular.
So, yes ... little nymph looking rather pretty. She's carefully watching the people as they pass, perhaps waiting for someone in particular.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 12:26 pmsister-lucy.livejournal.comThere is a large geisha in the bar. Lucy hasn't been in this guise for a while and it feels good to be back in kimono again. She always did like dressing up.
She's sitting at a table, long legs stretched out beneath it, sipping a parasolled drink, as she is wont to do. Her parasol itself is also present again, twirling above her as it so often does.
She's sitting at a table, long legs stretched out beneath it, sipping a parasolled drink, as she is wont to do. Her parasol itself is also present again, twirling above her as it so often does.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 01:44 pm3rdtimelucky.livejournal.comAfter a little handgun practice, in comes a ruddy-faced Goldy through the back door, insulated from the sting in Winter's tail by a plain black toboggan, leather gloves and a quilted faux fur coat. Sure, it's dangerous to wear such a garment around here—she would never hear the end of it from Red—but this girl has never exactly been risk averse. In any case, she has the insurance of certain Miho-related ball-breaking if she is compromised.
Not that Red secretly has balls.
It's just a turn of phrase.
Anyway... she stamps most of the brown slush from her boots and makes her way over to the bar, where she peels off the hat and gloves, fixes her hair back into some kind of order, and settles in to enjoy some coffee, a tuna melt and fries.
Not that Red secretly has balls.
It's just a turn of phrase.
Anyway... she stamps most of the brown slush from her boots and makes her way over to the bar, where she peels off the hat and gloves, fixes her hair back into some kind of order, and settles in to enjoy some coffee, a tuna melt and fries.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 02:20 pmprince-arithon.livejournal.comThere may be fates worse than death, but chances are there are no fates worse than Arithon's cooking. Thus: he's in the bar and heading for Bar in order to save himself from that particular fate.
The tree, for those of you following along, is doing quite well on a diet of tea and baking soda and toast. Bianca seems to be resigned to it.
The tree, for those of you following along, is doing quite well on a diet of tea and baking soda and toast. Bianca seems to be resigned to it.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 02:24 pmdeadirishdemon.livejournal.comDoyle inna bar, with lunch.
And pointy, greenish-grey skin.
Hey, it's St. Patrick's Day.
And pointy, greenish-grey skin.
Hey, it's St. Patrick's Day.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 02:35 pmscapepigAdded to the many signs on the notice board...
'STiLL LooKing foR a waY To paY YouR TaB?
ShEEp diSTRacTorS wanTEd
To diSTRacT a fLocK of ShEEp (aBouT 45) foR one houR bY non vyolEnT mEanS on fRidaY 24th marcH. muST Be aBlE To TuRn inTo a naTivE oR domESTic animaL fRom 1950s EngLand.
paYmunT EighT ShiLLingS SixpEnce and Two Big poTaToES. plEaSE SEE SnowBaLL (pig) foR inTERviEW if noT alrEadY sinEd up.'
Having put the sign up, the pig retreats to the fireplace and waits.
'STiLL LooKing foR a waY To paY YouR TaB?
ShEEp diSTRacTorS wanTEd
To diSTRacT a fLocK of ShEEp (aBouT 45) foR one houR bY non vyolEnT mEanS on fRidaY 24th marcH. muST Be aBlE To TuRn inTo a naTivE oR domESTic animaL fRom 1950s EngLand.
paYmunT EighT ShiLLingS SixpEnce and Two Big poTaToES. plEaSE SEE SnowBaLL (pig) foR inTERviEW if noT alrEadY sinEd up.'
Having put the sign up, the pig retreats to the fireplace and waits.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 03:07 pmguppy_sandhuThe doctor is in
But if you want him, you're going to have to wake him up first because he's curled up in a booth, sleeping like a tot. Bless.
Poking him makes him squeak.
But if you want him, you're going to have to wake him up first because he's curled up in a booth, sleeping like a tot. Bless.
Poking him makes him squeak.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 03:24 pmiamnotstorm.livejournal.comSarah hasn't got an ounce of Irish in her.
But has that sort of thing ever stopped her before?
The answer you're looking for here is: 'no'
Cue superhero dressed in an Irish flag-toga, carrying a bunch of shamrocks, yellow flowers and all, and wearing a tiara she made herself out of carefully cut and bent Guinness cans.
There are also green streaks through her hair, and liberal amounts of green glitter all over.
Honestly she looks a bit like a demented Statue of Liberty.
But has that sort of thing ever stopped her before?
The answer you're looking for here is: 'no'
Cue superhero dressed in an Irish flag-toga, carrying a bunch of shamrocks, yellow flowers and all, and wearing a tiara she made herself out of carefully cut and bent Guinness cans.
There are also green streaks through her hair, and liberal amounts of green glitter all over.
Honestly she looks a bit like a demented Statue of Liberty.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 04:00 pmabotticellilady.livejournal.com[Pre-Milliways: Bianca indulges in a long-unused talent]
And from the House of Arch's painting steps...a boy. Short, yes, but he probably hasn't finished growing, has he? He's dressed in green and black and white - black trousars, a white shirt and over that a black and green doublet that may or may not look familiar. He's a good-looking boy, really. Androgynous, yes, but beautiful - oval face, oval blue eyes, golden skin and a golden braid shoved down the back of his clothes.
Bare feet, though.
Still, he walks over to the Bar itself like he knows where he is going.
Which, of course, he would. Seeing as 'he' is really Bianca.
[ooc: Note - yes, she's crossdressing. She does this in canon. And she can, in fact, pull it off extreamly well. She may keep the pretence up, or she may laugh and admit what she's doing. Luck of the draw]
And from the House of Arch's painting steps...a boy. Short, yes, but he probably hasn't finished growing, has he? He's dressed in green and black and white - black trousars, a white shirt and over that a black and green doublet that may or may not look familiar. He's a good-looking boy, really. Androgynous, yes, but beautiful - oval face, oval blue eyes, golden skin and a golden braid shoved down the back of his clothes.
Bare feet, though.
Still, he walks over to the Bar itself like he knows where he is going.
Which, of course, he would. Seeing as 'he' is really Bianca.
[ooc: Note - yes, she's crossdressing. She does this in canon. And she can, in fact, pull it off extreamly well. She may keep the pretence up, or she may laugh and admit what she's doing. Luck of the draw]
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 04:38 pmred-as-rose.livejournal.comHer mun has one nasty-ass sinus infection.
And that leads to sloppily-written entrance posts, but today, Rose Red is not arguing as she comes out of the painting of dogs playing poker and finds herself a comfy chair to flop over.
She doesn't order anything, because she totally lacks a job.
And that leads to sloppily-written entrance posts, but today, Rose Red is not arguing as she comes out of the painting of dogs playing poker and finds herself a comfy chair to flop over.
She doesn't order anything, because she totally lacks a job.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 05:18 pmnamo[OOM: Gorlim, Námo and Nerdanel all work though relationship issues, setting some things straight. Millitimed to laaaaate last night, IM RP log, warning for angst, emo, and all the drama associated with the Vala and Man.]
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 05:19 pmjackdriscoll.livejournal.comJack enters the bar. His vision is suddenly obscured by a plastic green cap with an orange and white fan at the top. His clothes, also, have transformed from a suit and tie to orange cargo pants and a long green t-shirt that reads, "KISS ME, I'M IRISH!"
When Jack sees himself in the mirror, he is quite mortified.
That might be an understatement.
[ ooc: mun is having a sudden bout of tiredness and knitting fever. tag if you wish, but this baby's in slowtime. ]
When Jack sees himself in the mirror, he is quite mortified.
That might be an understatement.
[ ooc: mun is having a sudden bout of tiredness and knitting fever. tag if you wish, but this baby's in slowtime. ]
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 05:48 pmtin-foaly.livejournal.comSo.
After a lengthy absense, a metre-tall centaur in a lab coat strolls in through the door, looks around, GRINS, and sets up his laptop at the first table he finds.
Being a fan of techno stuff, he also sets up a little gadget that displays a 3-D lazer sign.
KISS ME I'M IRISH!
He has a pin saying the same thing on his shirt.
His COMPUTER is also labeled "GENUINE LEPRECHAUN."
After a lengthy absense, a metre-tall centaur in a lab coat strolls in through the door, looks around, GRINS, and sets up his laptop at the first table he finds.
Being a fan of techno stuff, he also sets up a little gadget that displays a 3-D lazer sign.
KISS ME I'M IRISH!
He has a pin saying the same thing on his shirt.
His COMPUTER is also labeled "GENUINE LEPRECHAUN."
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 06:56 pmgaelic-fae-girl.livejournal.comMolly had finally saw the door the other day, so she was able to go home.
She came back in with some money from her account to cover her tab.
However as soon as she entered the bar, her simple outfit of a jumper and jeans changed to a step dancer's traditional dress, and there were now green, white, and orange ribbons in her hair.
She blinked and glanced down at herself, "What the fuck is this?" She stomped over to the bar, her tap shoes clicking loudly on the floor.
She paid her tab, and asked, "I don't step dance, what the hell is this?" She just got a shamrock shaped card saying, 'Happy St. Patrick's Day!'
"Oh, for fuck's sake, we don't do this. Most just go to church. Can I lose this?" The outfit didn't change, but she was offered some tea. Irish Breakfast. It'll have to do.
She came back in with some money from her account to cover her tab.
However as soon as she entered the bar, her simple outfit of a jumper and jeans changed to a step dancer's traditional dress, and there were now green, white, and orange ribbons in her hair.
She blinked and glanced down at herself, "What the fuck is this?" She stomped over to the bar, her tap shoes clicking loudly on the floor.
She paid her tab, and asked, "I don't step dance, what the hell is this?" She just got a shamrock shaped card saying, 'Happy St. Patrick's Day!'
"Oh, for fuck's sake, we don't do this. Most just go to church. Can I lose this?" The outfit didn't change, but she was offered some tea. Irish Breakfast. It'll have to do.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 07:22 pmbohemian-mark.livejournal.comThe bar door opens, and in comes a basket of laundry. Then another. Then, behind another bag, is a blonde filmmaker, calling out to someone. "Hey, Fred, thanks for the help. Yeah, I'll get that script to you next week. Right. Thanks." Looking around the bag, he blinks. "This is certainly not the laundromat." Facepalming, he hauls the baskets and bag off to the laundry room. Later, he commandeers a table, and spreads out the laundry. Come and look. It's a strange conglomeration of jeans, khakis, skirts, t-shirts, frilly things, boxershorts and underwear. You never know what you'll find in the Loft's laundry.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 07:43 pmasar-suti.livejournal.comOutside the bar, down by the lake, there was a slightly purple woman smoking some cigarettes and waiting for better weather, looking at the sky with disapproval.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:09 pmmollyprewett.livejournal.comMolly's in the bar, wearing green robes, but not drinking beer. She's keeping an eye out for anyone she might like to avoid, but it probably isn't you.
Care to join her for some tea?
Care to join her for some tea?
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:18 pmjedizekk.livejournal.comOnce upon a time, if Zekk had to pay for something (which, often, wasn't the case), it would involve first scavenging the streets of Coruscant for something to barter with. A module from some archaic ship dating back to the mid Old Republic, lost trinkets from some smuggler's cover, hawkbat eggs...
Zekk always had a knack for finding things. It's a knack that had paid off.
It's been years since Zekk's been that orphaned street kid, but the memories still stick with him. So when he comes downstairs to pay his tab, with a credit chip containing money from his personal account back in the Galactic Alliance, he can help but feel a surge of pride. It's one thing depending on others - Peckhum, the Jedi, Jaina - to pay for him. It's another thing having to scavenge for a chance to pay for a meal.
It's another thing entirely to hand over the money to bar like it's no worry in the world. Zekk grins widely as the credit chip disappears and his bar tab's reduced. As soon as that's taken care of, he orders a lomin ale and walks over to his favorite booth.
Now it's time to relax.
Zekk always had a knack for finding things. It's a knack that had paid off.
It's been years since Zekk's been that orphaned street kid, but the memories still stick with him. So when he comes downstairs to pay his tab, with a credit chip containing money from his personal account back in the Galactic Alliance, he can help but feel a surge of pride. It's one thing depending on others - Peckhum, the Jedi, Jaina - to pay for him. It's another thing having to scavenge for a chance to pay for a meal.
It's another thing entirely to hand over the money to bar like it's no worry in the world. Zekk grins widely as the credit chip disappears and his bar tab's reduced. As soon as that's taken care of, he orders a lomin ale and walks over to his favorite booth.
Now it's time to relax.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:25 pmpointed-spoon.livejournal.comA sharp clink echoes, just a little ominously, when the gold coin is launched at the bar. It bounces, rolls, is absorbed and a goblet of wine appears.
Still, somehow, feeling defeated, despite a small random act of violence, the hunchback picks up his drink and begins a shuffling walk towards his booth, mumbling petulantly.
Still, somehow, feeling defeated, despite a small random act of violence, the hunchback picks up his drink and begins a shuffling walk towards his booth, mumbling petulantly.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:28 pmriver_meimeiRiver is in Roland's old armchair -- the one that's large, comfortable, and perfectly positioned to command a clear view of the entire room. She's curled with her legs tucked under her and her head resting against a wing of the chair, gaze sliding from one thing to another.
Someone's not in a great mood. This much is clear.
Someone's not in a great mood. This much is clear.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:29 pmnot_that_spikeIt's just kind of one of those nights: Friday, lazy, and he has no idea what the hell St. Patrick's Day is really all about in a historical sense, not being from Earth, not having any Irish background in his family anyhow. He always figured it was just an excuse to wake up the next day with a hangover, and he's never really needed a formal excuse for that.
In one way, Spike feels like there's a giant weight off his shoulders. The past couple nights have been interesting: the conversation with Gren, and coming clean with Faye. Kind of liberating in a way. Tonight, though: tonight's for something different. Walking through the bar, hand-in-hand with Beth, a book tucked under his arm and a fresh pack of smokes in his pocket, he figures tonight's just kind of for relaxing. For kicking back and enjoying the company of the most beautiful woman in the whole damn universe.
They make their way to the usual table: the fire looks warm and inviting as hell. He pulls out the chair for Beth, then moves his over so he's sitting next to her. No mere physical object designed to keep people at respectable differences from one another over polite conversation is going to get in his way. Hell no: he wants to be right next to her, and that's where he ends up. He sets down the smokes and lighter and book and turns to Beth.
"Get you anything?" It's kind of a loaded question, but it's a good one. He lets it stand.
In one way, Spike feels like there's a giant weight off his shoulders. The past couple nights have been interesting: the conversation with Gren, and coming clean with Faye. Kind of liberating in a way. Tonight, though: tonight's for something different. Walking through the bar, hand-in-hand with Beth, a book tucked under his arm and a fresh pack of smokes in his pocket, he figures tonight's just kind of for relaxing. For kicking back and enjoying the company of the most beautiful woman in the whole damn universe.
They make their way to the usual table: the fire looks warm and inviting as hell. He pulls out the chair for Beth, then moves his over so he's sitting next to her. No mere physical object designed to keep people at respectable differences from one another over polite conversation is going to get in his way. Hell no: he wants to be right next to her, and that's where he ends up. He sets down the smokes and lighter and book and turns to Beth.
"Get you anything?" It's kind of a loaded question, but it's a good one. He lets it stand.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:32 pmmilkbonesoldier.livejournal.comSay what you like about the holiday, say what you wish about customs, but if you think for one instant that Harry Wells is wearing green because of any pissant Welsh or Breton punk who grew up to be a missionary bishop, you've got another think coming. Wells is- let's put it as simply as possible- the exact opposite of Irish.
Thus, tonight's beverage of choice? Bass.
And it's not green.
DEAL WITH IT.
Thus, tonight's beverage of choice? Bass.
And it's not green.
DEAL WITH IT.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:39 pmmistressmaryquitecontraryThe back door of the bar opens, and in comes Mary Lennox, accompanied by a gust of wind.
Her arms are wrapped tightly around her book, her hair covered in snowflakes and her eyes round and surprised.
She's seen snow, here.
But she's never seen it snowing before.
It's - interesting.
Her arms are wrapped tightly around her book, her hair covered in snowflakes and her eyes round and surprised.
She's seen snow, here.
But she's never seen it snowing before.
It's - interesting.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:42 pmteach-them-all.livejournal.comAfter leaving a package at the bar for Daria, (because after all one could never have too many young minds to shape), Mesaana sat calmly at an out of the way table with a cup of tea.
A tall woman with short hair, icy blue eyes, wearing a rather elegant dress of grey silk sat having a cup of tea. Not what you would expect for a Forsaken.
A tall woman with short hair, icy blue eyes, wearing a rather elegant dress of grey silk sat having a cup of tea. Not what you would expect for a Forsaken.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:44 pmiambetadraconis[OOC: I just want to thank my anonymous benefactor for giving Rabastan six months paid time plus extra icons. You are very much loved.]
Meeting Gorlim, it seems, was the best thing that could have happened to him.
He's looking as though the proverbial dark clouds have cleared and the weight that was on his shoulders has gone from tons to ounces.
And he's even cheerfully wearing the green hat someone put on his head and the equally-green beer that's in his hand.
Yup.
He's in the best mood he's been since he got here.
This ale isn't all that bad. I wonder why they don't serve it at home.
Meeting Gorlim, it seems, was the best thing that could have happened to him.
He's looking as though the proverbial dark clouds have cleared and the weight that was on his shoulders has gone from tons to ounces.
And he's even cheerfully wearing the green hat someone put on his head and the equally-green beer that's in his hand.
Yup.
He's in the best mood he's been since he got here.
This ale isn't all that bad. I wonder why they don't serve it at home.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:44 pmshortofcrazyRiley ducks in the door, blinks, then grins and disappears for a second. He comes back in quickly, black messenger bag thrown over one shoulder. He walks through Milliways, seeing the decent amount of green on patrons, and he blinks as he leans over the Bar. St. Patrick's Day? It's February. But, hey, whatever works, and his T-shirt is, happily enough, an olive green.
Even if his ancestry is, uh, English.
"Piece of paper and a pen, please, Bar!" he asks, picking up the pen when it appears and scribbling a quick note. His handwriting would probably be nearly indecipherable to anyone who could even read English.
( Wes Janson )
He takes a DVD box set out of his bag and slaps it down cheerfully on top of the note. "Could you make sure Wes Janson gets this, please?" The DVD's and the note disappear.
Riley pulls his laptop out and sets it on the Bar, hopping up on a stool and letting his bag fall on the floor. He orders a beer--it shows up green and he eyes it warily--and starts typing away. Mmm, computers plus alcohol equals happy Riley. Talk to him! He doesn't bite!
Even if his ancestry is, uh, English.
"Piece of paper and a pen, please, Bar!" he asks, picking up the pen when it appears and scribbling a quick note. His handwriting would probably be nearly indecipherable to anyone who could even read English.
( Wes Janson )He takes a DVD box set out of his bag and slaps it down cheerfully on top of the note. "Could you make sure Wes Janson gets this, please?" The DVD's and the note disappear.
Riley pulls his laptop out and sets it on the Bar, hopping up on a stool and letting his bag fall on the floor. He orders a beer--it shows up green and he eyes it warily--and starts typing away. Mmm, computers plus alcohol equals happy Riley. Talk to him! He doesn't bite!
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:49 pmsong_tra_bongSomeone who has been conspicuously absent for a few days in no way related to her mun being locked out of the network is now back in the bar. Not for long though, if the bag and rifle beside her are any indication.
Mary Anne's going home, but for now she's enjoying a drink and watching the people go by. Got anything to say to her? Have a seat.
[ooc: tags may be slow as mun is packing for her upcoming trip, but wanted to put her girl in the bar tonight. there may be an exit post later, but this post is still open until I say it's not.]
Mary Anne's going home, but for now she's enjoying a drink and watching the people go by. Got anything to say to her? Have a seat.
[ooc: tags may be slow as mun is packing for her upcoming trip, but wanted to put her girl in the bar tonight. there may be an exit post later, but this post is still open until I say it's not.]
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 08:57 pmnamoBy the fire is a slightly damp white tiger, grooming the snow from his large paws. He looks relaxed and content, a gentle, quiet purr audible when approached.
After grooming, he settles down, his bright blue eyes half-closed as he stares at the flickering flames, his tail swishing idly.
After grooming, he settles down, his bright blue eyes half-closed as he stares at the flickering flames, his tail swishing idly.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 09:33 pmthe_antiangstIt would seem the couches are a good spot for sewing projects, even if it's supposed to be getting warmer out. Angel's got room to spread things out, which is especially helpful in the beginning stages.
Translation: He's taking up nearly all of a couch on his own, and cutting up some relatively garish tablecloths. Looks like another round of skirts is on the way. There's a completed one next to him as well, but it's pretty obviously not from this batch - just reclaimed from Mark's laundry. The notebook's around somewhere, probably on the floor, but he's all written out for the moment.
Translation: He's taking up nearly all of a couch on his own, and cutting up some relatively garish tablecloths. Looks like another round of skirts is on the way. There's a completed one next to him as well, but it's pretty obviously not from this batch - just reclaimed from Mark's laundry. The notebook's around somewhere, probably on the floor, but he's all written out for the moment.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 09:36 pmsmallestopenerIngress whirls into the bar in a green tutu and matching tiara.
It's not necessarily for St. Patrick's Day. Green is just a popular color for the House of Arch family.
It's not necessarily for St. Patrick's Day. Green is just a popular color for the House of Arch family.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 09:37 pmangela-edmunds.livejournal.comAngela comes into the bar and sits down at a table with books. And a notebook.
Still writing furiously, still eating as healthy as she possibly can.
Still dressed impeccably, because that's important to her--to the whole person she is trying to create.
Smiling secretively.
And wondering what will happen when that door appears.
Whenever that will happen...
Still writing furiously, still eating as healthy as she possibly can.
Still dressed impeccably, because that's important to her--to the whole person she is trying to create.
Smiling secretively.
And wondering what will happen when that door appears.
Whenever that will happen...
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 10:08 pmawesome_lillySomeone still has a sign. And a grin. And more potential whores to talk to. You're probably one of them, and if so?
Madam Lilly Wants YOU...
...to be a whore. Hey, odds are good that if you've wound up here, you're probably already a slut. Sure, try to deny it, but I was here on Halloween. I remember the leather. So why not make some money at it? Join Madam Lilly's Delicate Flowers*, have sex, and pay off your tab. It's a win-win situation! Just not a business. Because that would be Wrong.
*Male, female, dead, and other are welcome to apply. Must be willing applicant and of legal age in home universe. Applicants may be required to demonstrate skills. Madam Lilly's Delicate Flowers is an equal opportunity employer.
[OOC: post is locked to anyone who tagged backroom post with interest, but if you'd like to talk to her and haven't tagged yet, or inexplicably do not want to be a whore, reporter, bouncer, etc, just ping 'da emmy gee' on aim. Thanks!]
Madam Lilly Wants YOU...
...to be a whore. Hey, odds are good that if you've wound up here, you're probably already a slut. Sure, try to deny it, but I was here on Halloween. I remember the leather. So why not make some money at it? Join Madam Lilly's Delicate Flowers*, have sex, and pay off your tab. It's a win-win situation! Just not a business. Because that would be Wrong.
*Male, female, dead, and other are welcome to apply. Must be willing applicant and of legal age in home universe. Applicants may be required to demonstrate skills. Madam Lilly's Delicate Flowers is an equal opportunity employer.
[OOC: post is locked to anyone who tagged backroom post with interest, but if you'd like to talk to her and haven't tagged yet, or inexplicably do not want to be a whore, reporter, bouncer, etc, just ping 'da emmy gee' on aim. Thanks!]
He's baaaack...
Mar. 17th, 2006 10:14 pmsymbiote-venom.livejournal.comAnd then, not to be cliche, there was light.
Eddie blinked in surprise, narrowing his eyes against the light assaulting them so suddenly. He re-opened them slowly, glancing around, his head feeling light and groggy. His mouth, feeling a bit odd without being filled with deadly teeth, struggled to form words. It didn't take too long.
“Where am I?”
And then it hit him. It hit him like a freight train.
He was back!
He didn't really know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, to be honest. It was just surprising. He'd convinced himself it had all been in his mind, since he'd re-awoken in New York feeling rather unpleasant.
But clearly, it was real. Or he was having the same delusion all over again.
He was sitting in a large, rather comfy arm-chair, close to the fire. His clothes were quite damp, and the roaring flames served to warm his chilled bones. Ordering a drink from a passing wait-rat, Eddie glanced down to realize his wrists were still bleeding. He noticed that, apparently, Bar had provided bandages, which he grabbed from a nearby table and used to quickly wrap up his profusely-bleeding forearms.
Where had he gone wrong? What had he done? It had seemed like such a noble deed at the time. So what had happened? Why hadn't it gone as planned? It haunted him, because in the end, he could only come up with one answer.
It was all his fault.
With a sigh, Eddie ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. Was he dead? Or had he simply been brought back? Was there some way he would know if he had died or not? Scooting his chair closer to the fire, Eddie took the drink the wait-rat had brought him, not bothering to check what it was. All he knew was he needed time to think, a warm drink, and the comfort of the fire.
And, perhaps, somebody to talk to.
Eddie Brock, back in the bar, a very changed man.
Eddie blinked in surprise, narrowing his eyes against the light assaulting them so suddenly. He re-opened them slowly, glancing around, his head feeling light and groggy. His mouth, feeling a bit odd without being filled with deadly teeth, struggled to form words. It didn't take too long.
“Where am I?”
And then it hit him. It hit him like a freight train.
He was back!
He didn't really know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, to be honest. It was just surprising. He'd convinced himself it had all been in his mind, since he'd re-awoken in New York feeling rather unpleasant.
But clearly, it was real. Or he was having the same delusion all over again.
He was sitting in a large, rather comfy arm-chair, close to the fire. His clothes were quite damp, and the roaring flames served to warm his chilled bones. Ordering a drink from a passing wait-rat, Eddie glanced down to realize his wrists were still bleeding. He noticed that, apparently, Bar had provided bandages, which he grabbed from a nearby table and used to quickly wrap up his profusely-bleeding forearms.
Where had he gone wrong? What had he done? It had seemed like such a noble deed at the time. So what had happened? Why hadn't it gone as planned? It haunted him, because in the end, he could only come up with one answer.
It was all his fault.
With a sigh, Eddie ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. Was he dead? Or had he simply been brought back? Was there some way he would know if he had died or not? Scooting his chair closer to the fire, Eddie took the drink the wait-rat had brought him, not bothering to check what it was. All he knew was he needed time to think, a warm drink, and the comfort of the fire.
And, perhaps, somebody to talk to.
Eddie Brock, back in the bar, a very changed man.
A corgi nose pushes open the door...
Mar. 17th, 2006 10:56 pm2woolongdatadog.livejournal.com...and a long-absent Ein nudges his way inside. He sniffs the air, seeking familiar scents, but finding none, picks the most interesting one which doesn't either look like someone who would eat him or kick him.
He walks over and curls up in front of River's chair, right where he'd be an excellent footwarmer.
He walks over and curls up in front of River's chair, right where he'd be an excellent footwarmer.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 10:59 pmdragonofgrey.livejournal.comDraco was in a quiet booth, composing some letters, and keeping an eye out after his run-in with Ramon last night. Martin was awake, and on his shoulder. Huh, doesn't really look like a chicken anymore either. More of a pygmy owl now. And now with silvery-grey feathers with green shading at the tips. Draco was dressed in dark green robes, but that had nothing to with the holiday. That was more of his typical attire. The bar gave him tea and sodabread sarnies for the holiday though.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 11:25 pmclumsy_auror[ooc: Draco and the T-Ws. Millitimed to... whenever works best for all involved! XD Massive thanks and props go to Di for her patience and slowtimey goodness.]
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 11:46 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_clearly_penny_/[Before this: What Penny's been up to.
Featuring hideously embarrassing nightgowns and terribly busy hospital staff.]
To say that Penelope Clearwater is disappointed to be back in Milliways might be an understatement.
"Bloody hell ..."
She turns around and yanks at the door, to no avail.
She hadn't expected it would help.
"This is an emergency, you know," she informs the door crossly. Crossness is good for warding off hysteria.
They'll never believe I didn't run away-- this isn't going to help me one *bit*.
Featuring hideously embarrassing nightgowns and terribly busy hospital staff.]
To say that Penelope Clearwater is disappointed to be back in Milliways might be an understatement.
"Bloody hell ..."
She turns around and yanks at the door, to no avail.
She hadn't expected it would help.
"This is an emergency, you know," she informs the door crossly. Crossness is good for warding off hysteria.
They'll never believe I didn't run away-- this isn't going to help me one *bit*.
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2006 11:55 pmweighted-wishes.livejournal.comThere's a being inthe bar. A quiet being with small Ash leaves dangling in it's hand. Today had been pruning day, and it had hurt both Maple and Wish to do so...so Maple is recovering at the temple, while Wish is here working out the concept of necessary cuttbacks.
...and so Wish is seeking some small bit of peace and contemplating the sparkle veined leaves. Wish is in the bar my friends, come, do you dare?
...and so Wish is seeking some small bit of peace and contemplating the sparkle veined leaves. Wish is in the bar my friends, come, do you dare?
