milliways_bar | Mar. 29th, 2006

Mar. 29th, 2006

valehero.livejournal.com

Isaac inna bar. He's having some fun out by the lake. And, by fun, I mean he's swinging his sword around...No, not THAT sword! Goddess, get your head out of the gutter!

Anyway, Isaac's out by the lake, practicing and testing sword techniques on a floating boulder. Feel free tp poke...Uh, no pun intended...

And, for the record, Mun now feels like an idiot... XD

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

[OOM: First, Quinn Abercromby left Milliways, trailed by a curious Robbie Preston. Then he turned around to find the door was gone, and that Robbie was in Alnwick Castle with him. Introductions were made and people were met with, and Robbie saw something of that world...

maybe just a little too much.]

Out back, from under the trees, there is the sudden sound of frantic hoofbeats. A black, cobby horse with a white blaze charges into the open, burdened by not one but two riders. It's some distance, and several moments, before they come to a stop.

If you thought Quinn Abercromby stared at his environs the first time he came to Milliways, you should see the look on his face now.

http://users.livejournal.com/_mums_the_word_/

[OOM: Upstairs, Cecilia Crouch does some thinking about her son Barty's difficult situation. Eventually, she has an idea.]

tibetanmethod

Getting a glass of warm milk from Milliways is both faster and cheaper than ordering it from room service. Cooper's a fan of this.

Cooper is also sitting in a booth, jacket off, collar undone.

It's the end of the day; he's winding down.

timsbooks.livejournal.com

You know "The Thinker?" That classic statue? Well, that, my friends, is how we find Hellspawn, right now, sitting in the rafters. And pontificating.

" What am I? What has made me?
A creation of a young boys mind.
Am I my own man, or anothers?
And do I treat him in kind?"

He drops from the rafters, spreading his hands at the last moment to ensure a safe glideing landing.

I fine myself in this position, unsure of my own place.
Thrown about here and there, Lost in time and space,
My emotions, HA! Emotions, it's what they call emotions.
Is it love, is it lust, am I going through the motions."

Dramatic turn, gazing at The Window.

"Here at the end, do I find my own end, the end of my wandering?
I Roam around, I move around, never let one girl tie me down,
So why is all I see those red curls, that smiling face, meandering
I hear her call my name.... And the seeds to my ruin are sown..."

And he collapses upon a chair, staring off into nothing.

not-death-eater.livejournal.com

He strolls in the front door, shoots his cuffs, edges up his collar, and sneers. And then, he bursts into song.

"On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered 'round
And they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found
The head nurse spoke up, and she said leave this one alone
She could tell right away, that I was bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone

I broke a thousand hearts, before I met you
I'll break a thousand more baby, before I am through
I wanna be yours my Dark Lord, yours and yours alone
I'm here to tell ya Master, that I'm bad to the bone
Bad to the bone
B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone

I make a rich woman beg, I'll make a good woman steal
I'll make an old woman blush, and make a young woman squeal
I wanna be yours my Dark Lord, yours and yours alone
I'm here to tell ya Master, that I'm bad to the bone
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone"

And stops, a horrified look upon his gorgeous features.

"I, DESPISE, This place."

gorlim.livejournal.com

[OOM: Gorlim makes a new friend in the woods, and introduces it to Namo. It's really tiny.

No warnings apply. Except maybe for cute.]

soweroflife.livejournal.com

Kokopelli is outside, down by the lake where the earth is softer, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and the fingers of one hand sunk deep into the earth, palm resting against the grass. The Bag is sitting beside him, and his eyes are closed.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda and Knox take a trip to og shopping in Gotham. There are no warning needed.

leftthecradle.livejournal.com

[OOM: Happy endings are not guaranteed. Not even in the Ranger's time. And there are some things that even Tea cannot fix (Sorry, Ako).]

knight-sparhawk.livejournal.com

Sir Sparhawk, Knight of the Pandion Order, Queen's Champion and Consort, and Paramount swordsman of his world, was having a lousy month.

He was tired, not sleeping well, and had been mostly not finding any sort of peace in Milliways of late. Troubles from home filled his heart and he found himself lingering downstairs often, but not talking to anyone and wearing such a fierce scowl that it made many others even retreat from his presence.

It was a similar morning and day when he found himself sitting in that booth and drinking beer. Something whispered in his mind and he glanced up, an as his gaze swept across the room, he saw what had been missing for weeks. The Door was back.

With a surge of strength, he rose and hurried upstairs, then outside. In a short hour he was back, armored and cloaked and leading Faran towards the Door. On seeing it the Horse kicked up his heels and made several patrons dive out of the way.

Sparhawk leaned down and opened the Door and they passed through the Door... and were gone.

jedipilot.livejournal.com

Over there, right over at the booth in that corner right there, sits a ~~midget~~ short, ~~one-quarter midochlorian~~ completely human Jedi. With her crutches leaning against the table and a deck of sabacc cards and her chocolate milkshake right in front of her.

This Jedi, should one be curious, will in no way ever spawn piloting microbes with her husband. Or girl-children that can fit in her husband's pocket, thus allowing Lando Calrissian to manufacture a new line of Jedi Pocket™ toys. In fact, while she will one day be spawning a brood of five children with her husband, they will all be quite average sized (or slightly shorter than have it, seeing as pilot genes do tend to trump height genes in the Star Wars galaxy after all) and none of them will be able to fit in Jagged Fel's pocket.

Naberrie genes non-withstanding.

Hence, there is a Jaina Fel, newly released from the cells last night, playing a game of solitaire again. Kriffing rodder of a leg.

By the way, if your name is Zekk, Wes Janson, or Atton Rand, I'd stay away - far away - if I were you. Midget or not, she can still kick your ass.

[ooc: This entrance post is to be blamed on certain people. Ya'll know who you are. ♥]

[ooc 2: Mun's going to be in and out from this point on until 7:30 pm EST. But tags and slowtime and everything are love!]

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Legs spread out on the couch by the fire she is reading a book. A glass of wine resting on the table next to her.

She looks content as deciving as that may be as she has been reading the same page for the last 20 minutes. Conversation would be a welcome distraction.

oldschooljedi.livejournal.com

Qui-Gon thought it was a safe day to be in the bar. However, as he was getting a drink, it seemed a good day to tell a story... in song. So, leaning against the bar, he began to sing...

( A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away.... )

Blinking, he sits down, but not after getting a glass of Whyren's. What, by the Force was that?

[ooc: Not here for long, but it was too tempting. Will return later tonight, and pick up tags then. Yes, I'm going to the special hell.]

goinghost.livejournal.com

Danny flew into the bar, ghosted out, but wearing his bookbag. The way he figured it, it'd be a lot easier to do homework if he had access to multiversal geniuses.

One of them had to have some sort of basic knowledge of quadratic equations.

Funny though, it was almost as if the bar had its own beat. Clink clink, went some glasses. Scuff, went a chair, footsteps tapped in the back somewhere.

Danny's breath came out in a puff of blue fog.

But this time was different, that was the thing.

And Danny knew it right off because he started to sing:

"Why am I singing? Why am I singing?
I have the strangest urge, a HUGE desire!
To let my voice keep ringing!

I want to spill my secrets...I want to sing them all out loud.
That makes no sense, since a hero's secrets
aren't something to shout to a croooowd!

Oh no! Can it be true? I'm even rhyming, too!
But the Writer is nowhere near, and I don't hear his voice at all.
Still, I won't take a chance, even if at first glance,
it seems harmless, because it's not!

It's not!"

He forced himself to stop.

"Oh no," he managed to say to himself, forcing the music out of his voice. Blue fog kept trailing out of his mouth and it wouldn't stop.

This was bad. Very bad.

He looked around for security or Ray or somebody to warn.

There was something rotten in the state of Hallmark.

...Or was it Denmark? Danny'd gotten a D on that test.

flakygoodness.livejournal.com

Geoff pops into the bar with the requisite fresh-baked smell and sees more than a couple glum faces. He frowns a moment, until the inspiration takes over. He spins around, changing his outfit as he does. Now he's wearing a yellow jogging suit and what can only be described as a giant chocolate chip cookie on a gold chain around his neck.

Jumping up on a table, he belts out his pitch.

"I bake hot buns and I cannot lie
You other people can't deny
That when a god walks in with a tray of hot buns
And shoves them in your face
You get hung-ry, and you wanna cream puff
Or a warm cookie and get stuffed
Stoked for the wares I'm bearing
You're hooked and you can't stop staring
Or muffins, banana with nuts in
You wanna tuck in
My biscuits are so fluffy
But those scones I got turn out so puffy
Ooh, don' they smell great?
You wanna see how they rate?
Well, have one, have one
'Cause you're just a hungry patron
Your stomach's rumblin'
Well stop that grumblin'
I'm def, chef
Come get it from your ol' friend Geoff
The taste is just divine
So go worship at my shrine
Take your average buns and just throw them out
You can do without
So, fellas! (Yeah!) Fellas! (Yeah!)
Are you ready for my food? (Hell yeah!)
Well come and grab it! (Grab it!) Nab it! (Nab it!)
Cause it's just so gosh-darn good!
Cinnamon buns!

(Hot pecans and a cream cheese icing)
Cinn-a-mon buns!

(Hot pecans and a cream cheese icing)
Cinn-a-mon buns!"

Um. Which is to say... Geoff inna bar with a tray of warm cinnamon buns free for the asking.

gone_byebye

The spate of hauntings at Con Ed plants had died down almost as quickly as it'd come, but Ray's nerves are still on edge about it. He doesn't like the smell of the whole thing. So this morning he checked on a certain young boy in the process of learning his heritage, took as many readings as he dared, and headed for somewhere he knew he could analyze matters in relative peace.

He's got Cocoa Puffs and a seat by the Window, and he's going over papers.

onetruth-sleuth.livejournal.com

Conan inna bar. He is, once again, buried in a pile of papers, searching for some information. This time, a soda just doesn't seem to be enough.

He's pissed. There's nothing there he can use!

Um...approach with caution? ^_^*

http://users.livejournal.com/_mums_the_word_/

Last night, she'd come to a decision.

Today, she comes downstairs.

Giving a wary glance to the front door as she passes it, Cecilia Crouch goes to the Bar and shortly afterward comes away again with a bowl of soup, some bread, and a glass of water with ice. She carries all of it to a nearby table, moving slowly and with evident dizziness.

She has never had less appetite, but knows very well that she needs to eat something.

As she does, she keeps a nervous eye on the room.

[OOC: I'm not on AIM right now as I'm working, but any and all tags will be answered, I promise. Thanks!]

morbid-midweek.livejournal.com

Wednesday hasn't left the bar as yet. After deciding the workings of the bar were similar to that of the Bermuda Triangle, she remained for a few hours, getting caught up in her reading.

She's half hoping the door won't take her back to college, but she suspects it will. She's just taking as much advantage as she can. It isn't everyday you get sucked into another dimension, after all.

alien-isabel.livejournal.com

Isabel walks in, shopping bags in hand and a new Burberry bag around her shoulder. She glanes around and shrugs. This was a good place and she hadn't been here in awhile. And she hadn't seen her brother or Michael in awhile. She looks around for a familiar face as she takes a seat at a table, setting her bags on a chair. She smiles as a wait rat approaches. "Cheese fries, Cherry Cola with Lime, and a bottle of tabasco sauce please." Yes this is how a model eats when the model is an alien.

Current Mood: calm

moroccofor1year.livejournal.com

*There is a cute blonde at the bar with a massive amount of food in front of her, hamburger french fries and beer. She's just picking at the food. She looks bored come bother her*

no-devo-quotes.livejournal.com

There has been a noticeable transferral of weight on Sonia Belmont's person since she was last in the bar. Several pounds have gone from her belly to her arms.

She's so busy focusing on this weight- chiefly in the form of speaking gibberish at it- that she doesn't notice until she steps through the door that She Is In A Different Place.

It's a very interesting thing to watch a woman holding an infant immediately shift into a combat stance. Then, after a quick look around, she relaxes somewhat. Not quite as much as she had been, but... at least this place that reeks of the supernatural has rules against attacking people. (She should know, after all.)

So, she perches herself on a barstool and gets a beer. Mmm, sweet several-months'-forbidden alcohol...

Current Mood: content

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

Quinn sent Robbie back to his father last night, then slid from the saddle in a daze. How he managed to put the stallion through his paces and cool him down, he never really knew. It didn't matter. They were on grass, among trees, under sky- on grass that was green and growing and new, among trees that had never known fire, under a sky that wouldn't kill them.

He didn't even go into the Bar last night, but unloaded his gear from the poor beast's back and bunked down on the far side of the lake, where he would be sure to see all that life when he woke up. He half expected to find himself back among the ruins at home.

But now he's awake, and the green is still there, and he's got a horse to shelter and supplies to put... well, somewhere. So he's got to find people, and make arrangements. And plans.

asar-suti.livejournal.com

Early breakfast-time at Milliways.

There were a deity and an elf at a table, having coffee; the god was having chocolate pancakes with it, and the elda was having a large bowl of cornflakes. And orange juice.

They were talking in quiet, hushed, awed tones about things they didn't understand at all. Like blind men talking about colour. Only, in this case, it was men talking about the last stages of pregnancy.

Even though they were, strictly speaking, not men. But a god and an elf.-

[[OOC: Usual multi-pup post rules: indicate in your first comment which one you want, or both. I'm used to doing double-tags from my other game where I play brothers, so feel free.]]

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways:

Canto I: The Pieces

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Arithon is rather known for breaking out into song randomly. More-or-less randomly.

However it isn't filked, isn't demon related, and generally isn't in English. Also he tends to wear black when expecting to sing.

Tonight he's in armor with weaponry. So. The member of Security is present, as opposed to being around in his office as Masterbard of Athera.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy has spent most of the morning with his head in books. This isn't particularly unusual, but on this occasion he's trying to find something he can knock himself out with if he gets too close to catching fire.

He knows what's happening when for no apparent reason he starts climbing on the table, but he is slightly more surprised when he jumps, grabs the nearest beam and swings up onto it.

"Mm ba ba de
Um bum ba de
Um bu bu bum da de
Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you no man ask for
Under pressure - that burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets

Um ba ba be
Um ba ba be
De day da
Ee day da - that's o.k."

He stands on the beam, confident, steady, as if he was walking along a path.

( And he lets the music fill his soul. )

He snaps out of it as quickly as it started, his look of happiness changing to one of horror as he realises what he's doing. He stands frozen to the spot on the beam, not daring to move.

[ooc: Mun off for a couple hours, back 11pm GMT. Also applies to Shufti]

namo

Námo sits on a sofa, reading quietly and drinking tea and eating biscuits.

He is still relaxed and content, enjoying his book and his small snack.

The Elf would not mind company, even if it meant setting his novel aside.

song_tra_bong

('We must die because we have known them.' Die of their smile's unsayable flower. Die of their delicate hands. Die of women.)

Mary Anne inna booth, with poems by Rilke and a Bloody Mary.

Have at.

[ooc: ~~fairly minimalist entrance post which, except for a dinner break, should be good all evening.~~ ~~Remember that dinner break? Yeah. Back in 30 or so.~~ And we're back. The song filked in the Julian thread is a mangled version of 'Siren' by Tori Amos.]

deserved_it

The days are getting longer, and a little warmer, and Eustace is taking advantage of it. He's set up a target of straw bales by the stables, and is practicing his archery. His aim is improving, rather.

Nita, meanwhile, settles onto a barstool, manual in hand, and orders a mug of tea. She's about got this healing figured out, but there's a few tweaks to be made.

And finally?

Somewhere in the bar lurks Carmela Rodriguez, camera at the ready, all ready to "Get Her Flirt On", as they call it in the jungles of American high school. Be afraid.

[OOC: Mun is in and out this evening. Apologies in advance for sudden disappearances.]

princejonathan.livejournal.com

OOM: Alanna, Jon and Adam in Tortall.

shufti

Shufti is in the bar, by the fire, knitting a little bobble hat. The ball of wool rests on her heavily pregnant belly.

And there's a crossbow resting on her belt as always, just in case that demon she's heard about should show up.

gorlim.livejournal.com

Gorlim.

Bar.

Teeny feathered mouse thing.

Come annoy them.

latino_menace

Ramon enters the bar looking relieved. The reason why is probably obvious, as there is the sound of a baby crying loudly in the background. It cuts off abruptly as the door closes behind him and he grins, pulls his shades off and sticks them in his shirt pocket before heading for the bar.

He's got plans to make and it's much easier to work here right now. Conversation is still welcome though, it's not like time's a problem.

alderaani-intel.livejournal.com

The day had been normal enough...for an Intelligence operative. She'd gotten up, eaten a ration bar, foiled some plot, and then had a nice long chat with one Airen Cracken...

...Of course, that meant Winter had been tired as anything when she got back home...and all she wanted to do was curl up in her pyjamas, and read her mail.

Which is why a young woman, in her pyjamas, is standing in the middle of the bar, with datapads in her hand, wondering what the hell a bar was doing in her quarters.

This doesn't look like [insert sekrit name of planet here!] anymore.

[ooc: mun will be back after Lost. :)]

twostandingby

There's a Tycho sitting at a table, datapad in hand as always, reading. Minimalism + Millitime = love. Yes.

doc-lecter.livejournal.com

Doctor Hannibal Lecter sits at the piano, playing music. It is not his usual music tonight; he's playing a modern composer ~~Oh, the shame ...~~ by the name of Alexander Scriabin (Well, 'modern' compared to the Goldberg Variations he is so fond of, in any case).

An untouched glass of wine sits on a coaster.

female-were.livejournal.com

Raina's in the bar. Over lounging on a couch, if you want more specifics. She's eaten, and hunted, and had a generally good day, so she's taken it upon herself to find somewhere relaxing. And, low and behold it's here in front of the fire.

So, content alpha werewolf, free and up for poking, harassing, or whatever someone else can think of.

[ooc: ~~Disappearing until 10pm Central time, though feel free to tag anyways.~~ Back!]

venusadept_2

It would appear that some timed switch within the music box Bar gave Felix some time ago has been tripped. Which is to say, the music has changed, and Felix certainly didn't do it.

In any case, it's now sitting on his table receiving wary looks. Instead of Spring, it's now playing Canon.

No, not canon. Nor Canon. Canon. In D Major.

no-prisoner.livejournal.com

There's always a kettle or six going on the stove at Milliways, with all the tea, coffee and hot chocolate being drunk around here. Eddie designs the specials tonight around that, too.

Welcome to Milliways Bar Happy Hour

Specials

Nudge
5 PM
Imperial Moka

"Good evening, folks, and welcome to Happy Hour. I'm Eddie Dean, and I'm at your service."

95-tan.livejournal.com

It's been a while.

But now, there's a pink-kimono'd OS at her customary spot at the bar, with a bowl of RAM.

Her pleasant smile is a little strained, but that might just be from trying to pretend like she hasn't had an awkward absence from the general area.

Current Mood: anxious

balletrat

*Meg's sitting at a booth in the bar, with a fire extinguisher well within her sights.

Theoretically, she's working on a lesson plan.

But every fifteen seconds or so, her eyes dart up, scanning the bar for dancing. Which alas means she has not made much progress on the aforementioned lesson plan.*

shipkiller.livejournal.com

"All right, Alrecht, I'll be back at RWJ in just a couple of hours, I have to take my husband to--"

Or not.

Nice try, Stacy.

Outside has apparently taken a vacation, and taken your car with it, and been replaced with what happens to look suspiciously like a bar. A bar that definitely wasn't there last week, or yesterday, or this morning.

Very slowly, Stacy closes the cellular phone and slips it back into her purse, touching the cross on her neck lightly and continuing to look bewildered.

Calm. Composed. Wondering who slipped the dexmethylphenidate in her coffee this morning.

Her 'what the fuck?' look is plainly evident.

http://users.livejournal.com/_wonder_girl_/

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

A girl walks into a bar.

In any case, it's been a rather long time since you've heard it in regards to this particular girl. She seems happy to be back, to judge from her expression--at least, to judge from her expression up until a moment ago. Now, she's reading the notice calling for tabs to be paid off, and her expression is one of slight consternation.

She digs a hand into the pocket of her pinafore--and comes up with exactly five pennies.

"Oh, dear," she says to no one in particular. "I shall have to remember to bring more money next time." She pauses, and her brow furrows. "Only how can I remember when I never know when the door will open here?"

conflictedhero.livejournal.com

Bruce Banner sits in a shadowed booth. His mind twists idly across recent events as he munches on some breadsticks and drinks a glass of water. He has been here for a few weeks again and avoiding going back home, but with Jen's appearance, he is pondering making a quick jump through.

He isn't sure about it though, as he knows he will have to face some interesting times. He has talked to Hank McCoy and after what he has learned he knows that things will be weird when he goes through. So he is putting it off and thinking. There are a few science magazines are scatterred on the table, but he isn't into it tonight.

young_tmriddle

Tom and Door slip into the bar sometimes for a quiet drink together. They always gravitate toward a certain bar stool, and often they aren't noticed by anyone, save for Bar.

"Raspberry Russian, dear?" Tom asks, his hand laced through hers.

{ooc: Plot locked, please}

futures_of_ash

[Millitimed to sometime after her conversation with Wellard(still running)]

It's a proven fact that everyone has their weaknesses. Stress points. Fracture lines. A strong person can shatter with the slightest pressure, if such weaknesses are known. And recently...Rachel has been far from strong.

And one of her weaknesses is a child. A broken little girl. A puppet that terrifies her, scares her to the very depths of her heart. One she'd trying to help. Laughable really, the thought that she could every really help the girl when she herself can't even bear a conversation about her.

Laughable indeed.

So she's out by the lake, sitting on the shore with her knees to her chin and just...holding in the bitter chuckles and the shaking.

hello-cally.livejournal.com

It has been a long time, so once again the bar surprises Westerly by being beyond the door to his bathroom (as opposed to, say, the bathroom being behind the bathroom door).

The dark young man is in a dark blue shirt and khaki shorts, as it is the height of summer in Rome, and the days are warm. A quick trip to the bar gets Westerly a glass of wine and a book on art history, primarily focusing on Picasso. A couch is taken possession of, and Westerly is settled.

Come say hello. He won't bite.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

There were threats of bodily harm, so thus-

Wellard is at what has gotten to be his 'normal' table, books and papers spread out at hand, and the remains of dinner set neatly aside. There is the usual cup of tea, heavy on the cream and sugar, and the young british officer is working on a diagram of a sail- measurements in english and paravian. (Thanks to a conversion chart he and Avar finally figured out.)

Aside from working on the sketch, Wellard is keeping an eye out for some particular people in the bar.

atreides-ghani.livejournal.com

Dinner parties in the Imperial Palace are insufferable events. So, it is with great relief that Ghanima slips into Milliways when she excuses herself for a break.

She orders some spice coffee and sits at the bar, breathing in the heady scent and forcing herself to relax.

mandercommander.livejournal.com

And Bonzo is finishing dinner in the bar...it was a rather light dinner, but he feels full enough to chat. The question, of course, is whether anyone's going to chat with him. Takers?

theravenboy

Bran Davies is sitting at the bar, reviewing his biology notes.

If he didn't want to be disturbed, he'd be studying at home.

harvard_bounty

Because his mun's recently been on a canon binge, there's a cowboy in the bar, lounging in a booth with his hat pulled down over his eyes.

No, not that cowboy.

Or that one. But he may look familiar to certain parties.

stbethadettes

(Room 8: wearing fewer clothes means doing less laundry)

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Nathan sits at a booth and watches the bar. His attention is entirely on the people around him, which might explain, in an odd sort of way, why there are small objects gently moving around in lazy circles over the table.

anotherlifebro.livejournal.com

Is there a door in the jungle? That isn't an Evil Dharma-Related Door™?

Just one of the questions you'll never get an answer to on ABC's LOST!

Desmond's in the bar, though you didn't see him come in. He's at a table, somewhere near the middle, but with easy access to the door.

He's eating cereal.

iambetadraconis

[OOM: Rabastan travels to the wizarding world to get what he needs for an extended stay in Milliways, and discovers an unpleasant surprise. Millitimed to before this.]

Current Mood: crushed

brothercadfael.livejournal.com

Time passes very differently inside and outside Milliways. This is a fairly well-known fact. So while it may have been quite a while in Milliways-time since a certain monk first opened the door to his workshed and found himself in a strange, noisy place, for Brother Cadfael it has been barely a fortnight. And so when the door to his workshed opens onto the bar, he looks startled at first -- and then positively delighted.

'Oh!' He shifts his basket of new-grown herbs to his other arm. 'I had wondered...well, so much for my fancies about strange dreams!'

The bar isn't that far away, but his attention is drawn to the Observation Windows instead. And so he trots over to have a look outside and a quiet marvel to himself. A few moments of private contemplation on the mysteries of Creation won't hurt, surely.