(no subject)

[rigthegames.livejournal.com]

For once, Sands is moving without purpose, and has been doing so for some time. He drifts from table to table, sunglasses firmly in place but the face beneath them pale and strangely blank. There’s a cigarette in his hand, dangerously close to burning his fingers, and he drags on it as though it caused him personal injury.

Watch closely, however, and a pattern may begin to emerge, as the spiral he walks- has been walking for the past few hours- takes him once again past the wall where, for you perhaps, a door may be.

It is the fifth, or maybe the sixth, time passing that he snarls, face twisting, “Just. Fucking- Open!”

The door remains non-existent and Sands, scowling, continues his prowl of the bar.

Maybe not so purposeless after all.

(no subject)

[alwaysroomforhope]

Steph staggers down the stairs early in the morning, and keeps on going right through the bar. The back door slams, there's a loud splash, a yelp - as of a young face coming into contact with cold water, for example - and then the door opens again, and Steph, dripping and wide awake, comes back in.

"Bar? Food. Uh, something greasy. ... With gravy! You know, that totally awful potatoes and gravy mash thing the fried chicken place used to make on Earth. Like, concentrated mush. That stuff." A bright smile.

It appears. So; teenager at the Bar, sporting crumpled pyjamas, dripping hair, and a hangover, tucking into a little plastic container of goop like it's the best thing since sliced bread.

Exit Post

[http://users.livejournal.com/_clearly_penny_/]

It is a night like any other for Penelope Clearwater, the exception being that she's up rather later than she tends to be for reasons of insomnia.

She shuffles downstairs, wearing the St. Mungo's utterly ridiculous nightdress (it made financial sense to just wear what she had, rather than try to buy anything else off the bar), and goes in search of tea.

A few moments later, she and her cup of tea go to the door.

It's habit, at this point. And besides, that's how she got out last time.





As the door swings open onto the halls of St. Mungo's, Penelope reflects that persistence frequently pays off.

Except for the part where everyone's going to wonder where the hell she's been this time.

Perhaps if I'm very quiet, they won't notice me.


[OOC: No tags, please. Alllll shall be revealed.]

(no subject)

[janetsdaughter.livejournal.com]

Cassie practically bounds down the stairs from room seven. She goes over to Bar, obviously on a mission. Something is scribbled something on a piece of paper, then placed on Bar.
"I'd like all of that. Oh, oh! In a box, please."
The paper disappears, and after a moment a box materializes in it's place.

Cassie thinks for a moment, then whispers, "Can I borrow a room for a day?"
There is no response.
"Please? Just for a day. It's for..well, the same thing as the stuff in the box.
Still no response.
"I promise"
There is a long pause, then a key appears.
"Thanks!"

She scampers back upstairs.

(no subject)

[http://users.livejournal.com/_clearly_penny_/]

[OOM: Directly after Penelope's exit from Milliways, she has an interview with a rather harried Ministry official at St. Mungo's.

Things go a little too smoothly.]

(no subject)

[moody-protector.livejournal.com]

So after her panic attack and after the noise had died down, Isuzu was back in the bar.

Somehow, she had picked up a couple of pencils and some white letter-sized paper, some of the paper had some things on the back but, she used the blank sides.

And, thanks in part to her mun, she's now at the bar and sketching something out on the paper.

She knows nothing of how the bar she's drawing on works.

Someone wanna be a friend to her and help her out? She looks a little lonely.

Feel free, she's a little melancholy right now.

(no subject)

[onehoopyprefect]

[VVVOOM: At the way-y-y-y other end of the universe, Ford and Arthur commiserate over chili and milkshakes.]

(no subject)

[ardens-guard.livejournal.com]

Aaaannd, the number of Amberite Princes in the bar has just gone up by one. Making...one. Or two, depending on how you look at it and what timeline you're in. Can't speak for Princesses though.

Julian's looking casual and freshly groomed, lounging in a booth with a perfectly neutral expression on his face. This means that it's pot luck as to the kind of conversation you'll get if you approach him. Care to try?

(no subject)

[janetsdaughter.livejournal.com]

Cassie's standing at the bar.

Impatiently.

She is shuffling a piece of paper, and her feet.

Looks like she might be waiting for someone.
Or perhaps she's waitinf for something to start.

Let's hope whatever it is happens soon.

[OOC:Whoever wants to participate in the scavenger hunt thread can tag here, however right I'm going to bed and will reply in the morning.]

(no subject)

[eight_or_eleven]

Sitting out on the roof of Milliways is a female figure. At first glance it's hard to tell who it is, but once the lion, glowing softly in the moonlight appears, it's obvious who the figure is.

Strength.

And somewhere out in the grassy field is a lone wolf, midnight-black in colour.

Wheel, who apparently is still in her wolf-shape from earlier that evening.

It's a cool night and all three are enjoying it.

Even if Strength can't wander the grounds due to prowling shifters she'll happily watch them roam about the fields and forests of Milliways Bar.

(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

[OOM: The problem with being a person of well-known habits is that your habits can be used against you. Or, in other words... Ray has gone bye-bye.]

(no subject)

[countofserenno.livejournal.com]

Dooku is in the Bar, finishing dinner, when he happens to get an odd feeling. So, he decides to take the door to his room...

.oO(Wait...this is the door I came in.)Oo.

Dooku pushes a button and the door opens, sliding open to reveal his room in the Jedi Temple. Quietly slipping through, he vanishes back to Coruscant...for now.

(no subject)

[blue_ajah]

[OOM: After finding out the unpleasant news about Ishamael's surprise visit, Moiraine and Nynaeve have a talk, in which both Aes Sedai discuss a variety of proven ways to successfully Deal With those pesky Forsaken. Certain plans are made, as a result.]


[Millitimed to Wednesday night.]

(no subject)

[transgenic-max.livejournal.com]

(Not-really-OOM: There are new people in the cells. And a note.)

(no subject)

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

[Note for Crowley]

(no subject)

[demlshn-boy-sir.livejournal.com]

The door opens, and a tall, handsome young man--clad in a standard eyesore orange New Republic fighter jumpsuit--walks in, looking over his shoulder and laughing at some joke or other. Wiping at his oilstained hands--which match his jumpsuit perfectly-- he shakes his head and looks up--

And stops dead.

"--the kriff? Runt? What'd you do to this place? I haven't even been gone four hours!" He looks around for his horse-faced bunk- and wingmate, but can't seem to find him... and for good reason.

Lt. Tainer... Welcome to Milliways.

(no subject)

[inquisitivehero]

Hank settles at the bar, drinking his coffee and watching the bar. A long day. Watching his school... his home, turn completely chaotic, and watching the few students left start to go cabin fever-ey, was getting to him. Along with his inability to make any headway on finding a way to restore those who wanted it... Everything was turning out so dark. Some days... some days he wondered. So he came here.

He watches the bar, and wonders, and drinks.

(no subject)

[kingmickeymouse.livejournal.com]

The cloaked rodent figure is sitting in one of the comfy chairs near the fire. The light dances in his eyes lost in thought. Occasionally however, he does glance toward the observation window and then he folds his hands under his chin. It looks as if the weight is on his shoulders.

(no subject)

[sorrowfulmisery.livejournal.com]

After having recovered and rested Alice is downstairs in the bar again. She's back to being dressed how she normally would be and is back to being decked out in her guns. Now more than ever she doesn't feel safe. Well... no, that isn't true. After her bad run in with Umbrella Corp again she's not sure what mutation her body has taken on. She's still got the strength, agility and such along with the telekinesis. But after this last time she's not sure she wants to know what'll surface due to being experimented on and being injected with the T-virus again. She knows that she's Umbrella Corporation's best and strongest bio weapon and that should scare her. But for some odd damn reason it doesn't. They consider her nothing but a project. Project Alice they call her. Her eyes roam around the bar for a moment seeing its patrons as if she were looking through night vision goggles even though she isn't. She's seeing them through her real eyes. Kind of creepy if people really knew that.

Distractions would be good. Or just company. Doesn't really matter. For now the bio weapon is sitting in a dark booth just watching people or perhaps she's seeing through them, or just zoned. You never really know. Either way it goes... she's got her guns nearby and before anyone asks like the one blonde haired man did, no she doesn't think all the guns are too excessive in a place with a no violence rule.

(no subject)

[randomsbastard.livejournal.com]

This is Martin. He's fairly easy to talk to, as long as some simple rules are followed.

Don't touch the food. Expect vulgarity. Don't touch the food. Mentioning family can be tricky. Don't touch the food.

He's sprawled out with his legs on a chair at another table.

(Not kidding about the food.)

(no subject)

[almost-arabian.livejournal.com]

There is a Lawrence.

He is half-slouched on the couch with a flat surface in front of him, idly scribbling on a grid-type paper with coloured inks. He is in fact making a map.

Yes, from Memory. It will be surprisingly accurate.

(no subject)

[empath-wiggin.livejournal.com]

There's a table near the middle of the bar. For over a year and a half, it's been stained, almost strangely prominantly with green ink. Many times, there's a blonde woman sitting at it. Today is no different. What -is- different, however, is the woman's red-rimmed eyes, and the brown over-Jedi-robe she's wearing. Hunched over a notebook, she seems to almost stab at the words with her pen. The empath, for once, needs a hug.

Happy Anniversary, Valentine.

[ooc: Val is -extremely- emotional right now. Characters who would sense such things would see Val lighting up rather like a becon of emotion. It's all inwardly focussed, however. Don't worry.]

(no subject)

[virii-twins.livejournal.com]

The twins came in through the window again, the observation window, ghosting for longer than usual, drifting through the bar to the fireside, filtering slowly to solid once more, one perched on either end of the couch, watching the flames and then scanning the bar, their movements even more in unison than usual, more in synch than ever after watching the end of the universe up close.

Go ahead and talk to them though, they aren't as distant as they seem, and they do like meeting people.

(no subject)

[not-de-la-vega.livejournal.com]

There was, once again, and perhaps unremarkably, a masked hero at the bar.

He wasn't having port as he usually did, but chilled strawberry juice and a plate of nachos bigger than his head. Almost as good as his mother's really.

Go ahead and ask him, he'll be more than happy to trade food for conversation as he's still relatively new to the place.

(no subject)

[deserved_it]

A lot of people are taking advantage of the improving weather.

But work comes before pleasure, so Eustace is in the stables doing the usual chores.

They're going a bit slowly. He keeps throwing glances outside and getting distracted.

(no subject)

[beautiful_ann]

Well, when you have a few hours between waking up and your evening call, and the door you've just opened turns out to open into a bar, why not settle onto a stool, order a drink, and people-watch?

One Ann Darrow is in the bar.

(no subject)

[argentine-rose.livejournal.com]

[ Pre-Milliways ]

The door opens, and a thin 15-year-old girl steps into the bar. In her hand is held one cinema ticket, and on her face, a look of sheer confusion.

Yup, she's one of them thar newbies.

[ ooc: mun flees for food; will pick up tags when I return. Back.

Also!!! If you were threading with one of my (Midge) other pups and want to continue a stalled thread, pls be leaving a link here and I'll get to it ASAP. ]

(no subject)

[eostre-of-dawn.livejournal.com]

The preparations have been made. The chocolate has been bought, the eggs have been dyed. Now all Easter has to do is sit back and reap the benefits. It is a good day.

Anybody wanna buy the goddess a drink?




((OOC: And the mun must take herself to work. She will tag whenever she can while she is there.))

(no subject)

[prone-to-panic.livejournal.com]

Considering that Archie's mun is sending him off on a frightful quest very soon, she thought that he could probably use some relatively un-doomy time in the bar before that happens.

So here he is, coming in from the staff wing, humming a lively little tune. He's in a good mood, he's going to be married soon.




((OOC: And the mun must take herself off to work. She will tag when she gets there.))

Bartending Post

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Holy crap.

Bernard.

In the bar.

Behind the Bar.

Ready to take your orders.

It's been a while. A good, long, hectic while. Try not to faint.

Drow In the Bar

[underdarkangel.livejournal.com]

Drizzt sits in a booth in one of the dark corners of the bar a glass of wine in his hand and one across the table as if wating for someone to drink it.

Anyone thirsty?

(no subject)

[cuttingslack.livejournal.com]

According to Google, it is nice out in Scotland today, and that's why (due to the magic of Millitime, before her conversation with Bernard) Slack and her .38 Special are outside enjoying some stress-relieving and occupationally useful target practice.

She welcomes company (and off-range betting).

Provided you don't walk in front of her.

(no subject)

[legendaryoutlaw.livejournal.com]

Because the mun just got fairied, Vash is strolling down the steps, whistling. He's definitely in a good mood today, and just wanted some company.

Well, after a visit to Bar to get some donuts. I mean, come on--isn't that what this place is for?

So now the Stampede is wandering. Maybe he's wandered your way.

(no subject)

[sky-high-max.livejournal.com]

Max is clearly looking for someone.

Two someone's actually. One Duo and one Angelina.

But even if you're not that someone, it's still probably obvious that she's looking a little confused and is browsing the bar rather intently. Feel free to interrupt, whoever you are.

(no subject)

[dukeorsquire.livejournal.com]

There is a pile of arrows on Terence's table, and a pile of wood shavings at his feet. Sorry about that.

He's spinning his newest arrow in his fingers, watching it narrowly. But he could be interrupted. He promises not to stab you with it, or his pocketknife.

(no subject)

[fearcrow.livejournal.com]

There's a Scarecrow in the bar.

Although he looks rather like one Doctor Jonathon Crane, to tell the truth; only a friend could tell the difference in the way his eyes slide from side to side of the bar.

He sits himself into a booth, unconcerned with other goings-on, and orders himself a tall mug of coffee.

Pensive.

(no subject)

[not-one-drop.livejournal.com]

Mal, chewing her lip and looking worried, is perched on a bar stool, thumbing through a large book. It appears to be 'Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Vampires'. Next to it is 'Crime Lords of the Twenty-First Century'. Because she suspects she is in a lot of trouble. And is possibly going to die.

So. Come take her mind off things?

(no subject)

[man-ofthewatch.livejournal.com]

Bleary-eyed looking young man in the bar with an arm wrapped around a large white wolf that appears to be struggling to get free.


He's not asleep. Really.

Ghost, for his part, is whining and struggling a bit. Sort of like your cat when you pick it up and it doesn't want to get picked up?

or your dog for that matter.

(no subject)

[no_justice]

The Defeater of Empires, the Swallower of Oceans, the Thief of Years, the Ultimate Reality, the Harvester of Mankind, the Asassin against Whom No Lock Will Hold, the only friend of the poor and the best doctor for the mortally wounded...

...has an ice cream soda. With a black umbrella in it.

(no subject)

[feintsoncue.livejournal.com]

He's worked here for well over a year.

He works deligently, he works hard.

You'll have seen him. But you might not have noticed him.

He is, after all, just Walter. Just a busboy.

(no subject)

[asar-suti.livejournal.com]

Asar-Suti was just minding the baby for a moment, really.

He sat by the fire, in his favourite chair, his mug of coffee going cold, his current book unread on its face, awkwardly holding Feahelce over his shoulder, waiting for the half-Vala elf baby to burp, which would be the sign his mission was fulfilled.

Feahelce surveyed the bar from this vantage point, not thinking of anything as boring as burping when so many colourful things were moving through his field of vision...


[[OOC: By agreement with Nerdanel-mun]]

This is what we call a multi-pup post...

[capt_angie]

There are three ladies, in different parts of the bar.

One of them (Angelina) is sitting by the fire, drinking hot chocolate and flipping through a magazine.

Another lady- or girl in her late teens really- is looking dreamily out of the observation window, ocasionally sipping tea from a china cup. She goes by the name Drusilla.

The last of these three ladies is at a booth. Her name is Helga Hufflepuff and she is writing on a parchment scroll with a long elegant feather quill. She has ink on her fingers where the quill has leaked, and a smudge of ink on her forehead.

[ooc: Make it clear who you want in the tag please.]

(no subject)

[dragon_twin]

Melou has given up trying to figure how time in this place works. He's just happy to be back whenever he gets the chance.

Today, of course, is one of those days. There's yet another unsuccessful attempt to get a drink from the bar before he sighs and takes a seat at a table.

He might also be eyeing the door to the lake. Melou hasn't been out there since Ramon taught him to shoot and he wasn't paying much attention at the time. Perhaps later.

(no subject)

[gris_bug_man]

Entomologist in the bar.

He has an adorable baby daughter, a much calmer expression, and a book.

The daughter is delighting in beating the book.

Feel free to interrupt.

(no subject)

[moody-protector.livejournal.com]

Another Sohma inna bar, this one not as violent or as hot tempered as the one stuck in the cell.

She's at the bar and sketching something on paper again, checking over another sheet of paper she's got with her.

And the mun is proud of her pup, Isuzu's finally figured out the bar and she's picking at a salad and sipping a watermelon bubble tea.

Feel free to interupt her drawing session or ask her a question, she's really not all that busy.

Imagine what asking for a new pair of clean clothes could do for a woman's spirits.

Black slacks and a matching black dress shirt with the first 3 buttons undone. Her black hair's currently over her shoulder as she sketches.

Pretty in Pink? I think not, Back in Black baby.

(no subject)

[fire-of-mahal.livejournal.com]

Here we have a dwarf, his labours finished for the day, his meal done with, and his beer before him. Alas, there were holes in his socks this morning. He is taking steps to compensate for that. While the primary crafts of the Dwarves are those of stone and metal, they have long been practical folk who cultivate other talents as well at need.

This is a long way of saying that Gimli is currently knitting a sock of eye-swimmingly intricate black, grey, and white wool on four extremely slender needles, the fifth flicking in and out as he works with dizzying speed.

We might note that he's also wearing his axe.

(no subject)

[twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com]

Quinn hasn't taken care of the horse this morning, because every time he's gone out to the stable- every time- he's run across that... thing. You know. The one that looks like a dragon had its wicked way with an innocent horse.

... he doesn't take well to thestrals.

Tonight, or at least this evening, he's going to give it another go. Right now, though, he's still in the Bar, going over the maps he's drawn from memory of the geographical and geological features around the castle. That might be useful soon.

...well, he had to come in SOME time

[one-eyetothesky.livejournal.com]

"--out me, all right? I'll be right back. Just going to--"

Interrupted words for a man interrupted in time and space, plucked out like a daisy in the garden of life (though he'd more than likely cuff you one if you called him a daisy, so best to keep that to yourself). That being said, Creedy certainly wasn't expecting to find a drinking establishment, well... anywhere being as the only alcohol in the castle came from his own tub, and especially not at the latrine.

For one, it wasn't exactly sanitary.

For another, it's a pub. At the latrine.

He holds up a hand, as if to scold someone or other for... something. What. Something. Then he spins around because whoever it was wasn't in front of him, so perhaps they were behind him. No.

Aha.

So...

"QUINN!"

(no subject)

[elvish-hunter.livejournal.com]

The Hunter has decided to make one of her periodic trips inside today. It's the only way she can keep track of the new faces and smells.

She quietly asks for some bread from the bar and then retreats to a fairly shadowy booth, all the better to people watch from.

(no subject)

[mogget_cat]

*Perched on a bar-stool, there is an Yrael with a violin. Care to come hear him play? It is guaranteed to be an interesting experience.*

(no subject)

[kurosakiboy.livejournal.com]

Enter one Shinigami, in full uniform once again.

"Who the hell does she think she is, telling me what I'm supposed to do, freakin' nut-case..."

Give him a moment to realize he's in Milliways again.

There we go.

"Oh geez...this place again."

With a sort of annoyed sigh, Ichigo glances around, spots an empty booth, and makes his way towards it. He pauses, then makes a detour towards the bar to order a chocolate milkshake. Once he's acquired his drink, the teenage Soul Reaper continues on his way, grumbling about 'that stupid crazy girl'.

[ooc: Takes place somewhere in the middle of Episode 2, for those interested.]

(no subject)

[song_tra_bong]

Mary Anne's down in the bar tonight, still riding the adrenaline high from her latest trip home. She's finishing up dinner and idly leafing through a book--looks like Shakespeare tonight.

Feel free to pester, irritate, talk to, or otherwise interact with Mary Anne. All verbal remarks will be returned in the spirit in which they were recieved.

(no subject)

[jaded-jedi.livejournal.com]

Mara's in the bar, in a booth to be exact, watching people through her glass of wine.

Or "watching" people. It's actually more of just idle staring.

Is she idly staring at you?

(no subject)

[howmanynipples.livejournal.com]

Well, well, will ye look at that.

There appears to be a Shadwell in the bar, now with his very own can of condensed milk and pockets full of firelighters, by which the narration means that he has two.

Flash southern bastards be damned, you can't ask a man to give up his firelighters.

(no subject)

[kessel-angel.livejournal.com]

Lujayne's at the bar, glaring at a note that Inyri left her a while ago. She just likes to glare at it.

Glare.

Maybe she should stop before she hurts her eyes.

(no subject)

[alderaani-intel.livejournal.com]

Winter's still terribly bored. And what's worse? She can't find Tycho to help her remedy that.

So she's gone outside, for the second time (this time wearing the appropriate clothing), and she's staring at the lake. Very unenthusiastically, the mun may add.

(no subject)

[latino_menace]

Ramon came in an hour or two ago, but for once in his life has been unobtrusive. No, really. And really, that's becoming a habit - one he'd like to break probably.

Either way, that there Latino terrorist is fair game for any kind of conversation you'd like to strike up with him. Can't promise he'll like it, but isn't that half the fun?

(no subject)

[not-ho-chunk.livejournal.com]

Gray Jay is inside the bar in human form, today, sitting by the fire with a cigarette and a Budweiser.

He's in a relatively friendly mood, so come say hi.

(no subject)

[2suitsisdead.livejournal.com]

The Cat comes through the door, pushing a rack of clothes and, as usual, paying no attention to his surroundings.

He's singing.

"This little kitty went into stasis. Oooo! This little kitty stayed home. Ooh! Yeah, my clothes look good."

(no subject)

[conflictedhero.livejournal.com]

Bruce smiles in relief as he comes in the Door, looking a little bedraggled. He sets his back to it and sinks to the floor, resting, his eys closed for a long moment. He finally opens his eyes and staggers up and over to Bar.

"Bar, you beautiful thing, water, cold, and some soup, please."

When they appear he gulps the water and sets it down, to see it refilled again.

"Thank you, dear lady. It is nice to see yoiu too."

He pats Bar gently and fondly and turns to suyrvey the bar, soup in hand and smiling.

(no subject)

[misterparker.livejournal.com]

Parker drops onto a seat. He's tired. The box he's dragged across two state lines in twelve hours is heavier out of the real world. In the real world it has meaning, what he's carrying. Here it just is. Without space, time, and Longbaugh on the end of a phone line, it's without context, making it inevitably more cruel, a heavy burden to be holding.

In the bar's lighting, it looks like an average cardboard box next to his elbow.

He just needs to not deal with it for a bit, to be out of a place where every second counts. What he needs is a drink.

(no subject)

[cywyllog]

Cywyllog is back in the bar tonight, and completely oblivious to the presense of one of her sons.

She has a glass of wine and is curled up by the fire, up for a quiet, simple night.

(no subject)

[kinghereafter.livejournal.com]

[oom: after the curtain falls]

The door opens and a man walks into the bar.

This place isn't what he was expecting--a slight widening of his eyes betrays this fact--but if you asked, he probably couldn't tell you what he'd envisioned as an alternative.

The shock wears off quickly and his posture straightens. Keen eyes sweep across the bar, as though looking for someone he knows.

They did say his wife was here.



Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Macbeth.

(no subject)

[the_antiangst]

Angel's over by the fireplace, working on yet another sewing project. He's moved on from the blindingly pink stuff to the dark purple, at least for now; they're both likely to need some final touch-up work.
Care to ask him what he's doing to that poor curtain?

(no subject)

[action-antihero.livejournal.com]

Very agitated former government agent in the bar. Specifically, over at a table near where the door should be, where he's been most fo the day, when he hasn't been getting his mounting frustration out by going for runs around the lake, or by pacing by the door. At the moment he's drinking a cup of coffee and trying to read, not that he's succeeding very well.

It's Day Three since Kim and Nita disappeared, and the fact that he can't go after them still isn't sitting very well with him.

(no subject)

[necessary_child]

Sam is, once again, in the bar. He's getting rather tired of being stuck here, to be honest.

"Bar, I don't suppose you could retrieve my sword for me?" he asks. "I feel like a practice session."

Bar produces a sword, a long, light, silver sword, not unlike his real one, but not the same, not the same at all, and Sam shakes his head. However, he picks it up with a grumbling murmur, and heads outside.

He pauses, closes his eyes, sliding back into practice mode, and his hands and feet slide into the same practice dance that he's been doing for centuries.

Sam can do this without thinking, almost. So feel free to bother the immortal, he's really very unlikely to slice your head off by accident.

(no subject)

[shufti]

There's an exhausted-looking teen near the fire, rocking and singing to a tiny little baby, who is whimpering and crying quietly. There are dark bags under her eyes as she tries to get him to settle.

(no subject)

[scion-of-amber.livejournal.com]

[OOM: After Julian and Fiona's conversation descended into politics and awkwardness, Fiona went back to Amber to sulk. Only, her brother Gérard had other ideas. Warning is for Amberite royalty acting like children.]

(no subject)

[guppy_sandhu]

Young doctor in a booth by the infirmary.

He appears to be engrossed in a book about the male equivalent of breast implants.

(no subject)

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

He's stayed away for a while, because events with the Frost were...annoying, to say the least. But now the whole thing is squared away and justified to himself in his head, there's nothing keeping him from visiting.

So. One seemingly quiet Irishman, sitting in an armchair by the observation window, surveying the bar from behind dark glasses. Bother at will.

(no subject)

[future-leader.livejournal.com]

There's a 12-year-old kid with a newspaper at one of the bar's tables, sipping at a half-full glass of cola as his gaze scans the pages. A worried looking kid with a newspaper, though John likely wouldn't admit to being worried. Or at least he wouldn't phrase it like that.

The paper is dated July 25th, 1997.

(no subject)

[not-like-lilly.livejournal.com]

[OOM: July 8, 1996]

In which Petunia returns home and considers several things.

(no subject)

[fiendsoncue.livejournal.com]

[OOM: On stage in the Ankh-Morpork Opera House, the two Ghosts face off... Most dialogue taken directly from Maskerade by Terry Pratchett.]

The door flies open.

There should, it seems, be a crash of thunder lit by a flare of lightning sillhouetting a dark cloaked figure in the doorway... But there isn't.

The figure is dark and cloaked, however, though minus his mask. But the unsheathed rapier and the expression of insane viciousness on his face more than make up for that lack.

Someone is not having a good day.

(Ahahahahahahaha!!!!!)

[OOC: Plotlocked. Please see backroom post for details. Plotchat is located at 'fiveexclamationmarks' Because one can never ever have too many canon references.

If your character just wants to watch/flail? Feel free to start or tag into a thread with one of the observers below. Just think of the main (first) thread as a floor show, baby.]

(no subject)

[yuppie-trash.livejournal.com]

Tonight, a shirt without a collar (only a simple band collar. Red, white, and navy stripe. Two-button cuffs, real pearl buttons, brass stud at the neck.) with a heavy tumbler of Żubrówka ("it smells of freshly mown hay and spring flowers") vodka over ice. His attaché case has been exchanged for a leather suitcase of some kind, a weekender. (A Gladstone, that's what they used to call them.)

He is reading from a book (Trump: The Art of the Deal) between leisurely sips and pauses to make a few notes into his Filofax in neat blue ink.

(no subject)

[rigthegames.livejournal.com]

Today, Sands is sitting at the bar. For once, not smoking, though he’s got his spare lighter out and is flicking it idly, watching the flame as it sparks and dies. He’s smiling faintly and without a trace of humour.

Re-Enterance.

[jusa-littlelion.livejournal.com]

There's a small child in the bar.

Well, not so small. A few weeks have passed in Libria and Robbie's a growing boy. (Taller if anything)

He takes a cautious look around and darts back into the bar.

Maybe you can catch him. If you're quick.

First entrance!

[intherightline.livejournal.com]

[oom: Flight of the Tarkheena.]

She closed her eyes as she pushed the door open. It all felt wonderfully ceremonial; the street would be different now when she opened them. Wider. As she rode out of the city all would avert their eyes and bow, reflecting their gratitude that such a highly born Tarkheena moved among them and allowed them to look upon her unescorted. Once free of the walls of Azim Balda she would don the armor of her brother once more, fasten his blade to her side and ride for the North. Under cover of darkness, the stars glittering above like oil on velvet trapping and reflecting the candles of a shrine, she would approach Tashbaan, home of the Tisroc--may he live forever--and pass right under his nose, and Ahoshta's. She would move through the city undaunted, the sunlight radiant upon her as she passed through the northern gates. Hwin would take her through the Tombs while it was still li...

Why did the streets of Azim Balda sound like a tavern?

And smell like a tavern?

And look like a tavern? Well, sort of.

Aravis' eyes flicked over the scene in front of her. Clearly she had chosen the wrong door to exit by, but the Post of Azim Balda kept a very queer sort of dining hall. She had been here before and could recall no such room. Never mind that no one here looked like a Calormene. Azim Balda was a center for trade, a cultural crossroads. She was likely to meet all manner of demons and infidels here. She would simply have to remain strong until she could figure a way to leave without attracting notice, as surely all had seen her enter.

Likely this wrong turn was a sign from Tash the omnipotent, the indefatigable. His mighty hand had steered her here to keep her from danger in the street just now or to permit her a respite before the next leg of her journey. Surely no one would blame her for treating it as such. His will was unknowable.

She sat at an empty table and wished she had her brother's blade nearby as she waited to be served.

(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

[OOM: Some things just do NOT make waking up worthwhile. At all.]

(no subject)

[no-comb-shep.livejournal.com]

Sheppard is incredibly hungover at the moment. However, he's also on a mission at the moment. There's a Earth to save once he's finally unBound, after all, and that can't be done alone. Which is why there's now a sign tacked up.

Wanted: Suicidally virtuous heroes, preferrably with experience of inter-planetary travel, murderous monsters and certain peril. Must be prepared to travel. Must bring own weapons; chestplates preferred. No evils worse than the Wraith.

If interested, leave a note for John Sheppard or Rodney McKay.

Once that's done, he heads over to the bar and sits down, rubbing at his forehead. Stupid hangover.

(no subject)

[stopped-signal.livejournal.com]

Mr. Universe is in the bar, hunched over his laptop as usual.

Come get his attention away from whatever he's doing. Make him eat, maybe.

(no subject)

[abs-denham.livejournal.com]

[ooc: After this]

Abs comes down the stairs and deposits a couple of notes at the bar.

( Amanda )

( Molly Prewett )

( Doctors Venkman and Crowe )

He sits down at the bar, looking for people he knows.

[ooc: See back room post for details]

(no subject)

[river_meimei]

It's late afternoon, via some slight twist of Millitime. The sun is lowering in the west, gilding the lake and the nearest ranks of clouds, and a honey-golden light pours over forest and field. Most of the trees are still bare of leaves or only beginning to haze green with buds, and the grass is still half winter-brown, but the air is warm. Early wildflowers are in bloom, and spring seems to be finally settling in to stay.

Boukephalos is picking his way along a muddy stretch of trail down by the lake. River balances easily on his back, slim and erect, and tilts her head back to watch a bird fly overhead.