milliways_bar | May. 13th, 2006

May. 13th, 2006

gonetocarlsbad.livejournal.com

The front door swings open a crack, apparently on the middle of a violent argument.

" - little bastard. You're a freak. I always knew it. You're a freak!"

A voice that might be familiar to some as belonging to Max Evans calls out a pleading, "Michael, let's go" and is backed up by a young girl. "Michael, we have to go. Now! Michael!"

Three sets of running feet recede into the distance, and then there is a short silence. After a few moments, though, a man pushes the door open the rest of the way and staggers through, drunk and dazed, with a bottle in his hand.

"...whut."

tibetanmethod

Dale Cooper, sitting at a table, has his head tilted back.

His eyes are on the rafters.

He is Plotting Something.

latino_menace

OOM: Preparation

Ramon enters the bar looking particularly pleased with himself. It's been a productive day so far and this evening promises to continue that trend. His favourite kind of day.

[OOC: No tags please, just establishing presence for plot.]

Current Mood: cheerful

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

Archie has never been the best of sleepers; he is restless and plagued with nightmares, not as bad as some certainly, but disturbing enough to rob him of his rest. So, after watching Svava sleep for a while, he gets up, dresses, checks on Laerke, asleep in her room, and goes out to the lake.

He's not fool enough to wander into the woods on the full moon, so he is within a stone's throw of the back door, his white shirt fairly glowing in the moonlight, his sword describing complicated patterns in the air. After a while, he pauses, switches hands, begins the drills all over again.

His face is a picture of concentration, his focus entirely on the movements of the sword, but catch him between sets, and he'd be more than happy to stop and chat with any other insomniacs or early risers.

song_tra_bong

Mary Anne's down in the bar later than usual this evening; too much thinking keeping her awake. She is not, however, thinking about Julian. Or Fiona. Or immortality. Or cards of any sort, particularly tarot cards.

Instead she's lounging in a booth, thinking about how nice her Bloody Mary is and if she should order another one. Doesn't look like she'd mind company.

princeinexile

[OOM: Zuko and Iroh have a somewhat fruitless talk.]

Padding downstairs, Zuko found himself back at the fireplace, despite the dirty looks the wait rats were giving him over his last visit. He claimed his couch, curled up on it, and and stared at the fires.

He remembered home, and indulged some soreness of the heart and weariness that went to the bone.

Friends would be welcome.

If he admitted he had any.

Current Location: Fireplace Couches

a-fell.livejournal.com

Aziraphael's tucked himself into a corner of one of the sofas by the fireplace for a change, with what looks like rather more than his fair share of cushions. There's a cup of earl grey steaming gently on the table but not a book in sight; he looks to be quite lost in thought.

latino_menace

He had left the bar briefly because there was a little something to take care of. And now he's back, because there's one more part to this evening's work.

Ramon walks through the bar casually and heads up the stairs. When he approaches room 24, he draws a videotape in a case from his pocket. It gets laid on the floor outside the door and he says quietly, 'Enjoy the show, Jack.'

( The tape )

And that done, Ramon just turns and heads back down the stairs for the door back home. The evening has gone as smoothly as he'd planned (of course) and now there's nothing to do but sit back and enjoy the show.

Ready for this Jack? I think you thought I forgot about you. Didn't you?

Idiot.

For the second time this evening, the front door closes behind him.

[OOC: OOM warnings for mild violence and...subtle leering. Leering with intent, one might say.]

timsbooks.livejournal.com

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign, do this don't do that...

Tims got a sign up.

"I LEAVE IN A WEEK. COME CHAT."

And yes, Hellspawn is somewhere nearby. He's loathe to leave his creator.

child_like_vampire

Claudia is curled up on a couch. She's wearing a simple dress this early in the morning. Not sure why, but it was what Bar had given her when she'd asked for a new dress. She missed Louis buying her lovely, expensive gowns.

Louis.

She refuses to dwell too much.

Next thing you knew, she'd be eating rats, and she'd never stoop so low.

So, she sits and watches people, arms around her legs, her large eyes wide.

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack again, sitting in a booth that he hasn't quite forgotten, despite time away, running his fingers up and down, feeling the texture of the seat absentmindedly and staring at the door.

The night is over, and soon he'll go. For now, though, he gets to sit and pretend he won't miss the place when he does.

blue-star-badge.livejournal.com

Adric was perched at one of the tables near the observation window, apparently making starmaps again, humming to himself and swinging his feet.

Spoon, the mostly-clockwork dragon was sitting on the edge of the table, steaming slightly. He'd been through the dishwasher and was not happy. Which was why he was sulking and ignoring Adric just as hard as he could.

The boy was bearing the cold shoulder good-naturedly enough.

Someone should go talk to them, or something.

narnianknight.livejournal.com

It's been a long week at Cair Paravel. So when the door opens to Milliways instead of to his chambers, Rilian breathes a sigh of relief and enters the bar, absently scrubbing a hand through his hair on his way to a booth and tea.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

[OOM:Visiting Post the Second]

Wellard talks to Archie and Sharpe about the whole situation with Blodwen, and they discuss ideas of what to do. (Wellard is sneakily smart, in his own way. Really.) Tom Riddle comes to meet Wellard, and they discuss what Blodwen did the last time. Not entirely reassuring. Jason demands to know who hurt Wellard, Wellard isn't saying until the werewolf calms down- mostly because in a werewolf vs White Rider, he has an idea who'd win, and it wouldn't be good. Amy is pleased to see Wellard's reading the book she left him, and they talk about other great literary figures (*snicker*) and then move onto cards. Alessa shows up in the infirmary, and things get awkward with questions about ships and God and then crying girls. (slowtimed still). Mary comes to see Wellard after visiting Blodwen- which he thinks was NOT a good idea. There is updating information and general doom- but then again, the subject of the convo was Blodwen, so what do you expect? (slowtimed still)

New visiting post up here.

gorlim.livejournal.com

There's a GORLIM! In the BAR! Wow, bet you haven't seen that one in a while.

He has calamari, which he is munching as he hums something that sounds distinctly Celtic.

Come say hello.

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Its been a while since Arithon was in and playing. He's got the time, though, and his lyranthe, and with the addition of a darkened table, its pretty close to perfect.

And, yes, that was "a darkened table", not "a dark booth", because one of the benefits of being Master of Shadows is that you can (and, in this case he does) have a table in the center of the room completely surrounded by a circle of shadows.

Rather like a light hanging over a table in a dark room, in reverse.

The strains of the lyranthe are light, easy, and flowing. Its good to do what you're good at, after all.

not-one-drop.livejournal.com

She's sitting by the bar, tequila in hand, but she's not drinking quite yet. A sheet of paper with scribbles of swords on it lies near her, as well as a pencil - she's been introduced to modern writing techniques.

She looks oddly uncomfortable, though, constantly scanning the bar with bright eyes, watching the entrances. Toying with her shotglass.

Company, depending on who you are, could be welcome.

gonetocarlsbad.livejournal.com

Hank does not know what Milliways is, how he came to be there, or anything about it except the names of a few of the patrons and that his former foster son is one of them.

Quite frankly, he doesn't care. It's a bar, and one that doesn't demand payment upfront. He's figured out how to get drinks, and is in the same booth he's been in all night.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's sprawled in a booth, taking up as much space as is humanly possible. He has a notebook in one hand and is writing in it, slowly and thoughtfully, and every now and then he'll break into a manic frenzy of crossing things out.

fat-charlie.livejournal.com

[oom: pre-milliways]

With no answer, Fat Charlie walked further into the room--the space he recognized as a bar--and looked about, hoping to recognize his brother somewhere. This was odd indeed, he thought. He'd never imagined Grahame Coats would turn his office into a bar, or that...well, what was he thinking anyway? This wasn't Grahame Coats' office anymore! And Spider was no where to be found.

So, worried that he'd definitely lost his mind, Fat Charlie turned to go back in the direction he came from and...sort things out in his own flat, only to find that the door he'd come through was no longer there. He turned back to the main space of the bar, wondering if anyone had seen the door--'yes,' he thought, 'I am looking for my door, have you seen it?'--but no one seemed bothered in the least.

"Right. Well, I'll just have a look around, then," he mumbled to himself.

[ooc: possible slow-timing will be in session...]

bitter-innocent.livejournal.com

Edmond is sticking with the sailor's outfit, for the time being, in ~~expectation~~ hopes that the door will reappear.
But when he strolls down the stairs this afternoon, still pulling the on the cap, his expression drops a little.
So, with a sigh, he slumps into a booth and orders supper.

He'd really like to know how much longer he's going to be here, but he also really ought to take up a hobby in the meantime. Care to make any suggestions?

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

[OOM: After this, Angela wakes up for her first day of captivity.

Warnings for abuse of a minor, whitetexted Metallica lyrics in the first link, and despair, doom, and woe.]

tragic_mask

OOM: After this Melpomene goes back to her room and reflects.

Then she dries off, comes downstairs, and sits by the fire in a zip-up sweater with an unlit cigarette in her hand.

call-me-shane.livejournal.com

Out by the stables, there is a bit of fenced-in pasture. This is important, seeing as most horses have the good sense to get the hell out of Dodge when presented with a chance to roam free. It also makes a handy place for a man to lean when he's watching his gelding graze. He's been keeping to himself these last few weeks while he's been healing up, trying to figure out what he should do next.

twiststheblade

Modesty is sitting elegantly at a table, cigarette sitting in an ashtray and obviously not moved for a while, as the tube of ash it's left behind rests neatly there. She's absorbed in a book about the theory and mathematics of card games.

Valentine is much less neat, although his sprawl across a couch could also be described as elegant. He is amusing himself with the score to Karl Orff's 'Carmina Burana', as his education made sure he could read sheet music as easily as text. Even if his best attempts at actually playing sound like he's trying to destroy the instrument. Or as if he'd invented Industrial Noise a millennium early.

Miho also has a cigarette, although hers is being actively smoked. Smoke rings have an endless capacity to amuse, it would seem. And also are very good for keeping the hands occupied when one is restless.

Jadis has discovered in herself a fondness for Grey Goose vodka, and is sipping from a squat tumbler, whilst leafing through a portfolio of what seem to be alchemical experiments. She thinks.

Sheila is tucked into the back of a booth, with an first edition game boy. Bleep. Bleep. Bleep-bleep-bleepity-bleep.

a-simple-choice.livejournal.com

[OOM: While out walking today,. Jor-El discovers a new power and begins to test it out.]

antarianmax.livejournal.com

( Decisions are made regarding a certain wedding. )

ncdcas-cable.livejournal.com

Nathan walks outside, his eyes closed as he navigates by telekinesis and telepathy alone. It is a nice night, and he is enjoying the air. By the lake, he settles down to simply breathe and be.

If he sits on mid-aid and not a rock, well... he is Rachel's brother, after all. Sometimes, he just isn't normal.

Askani'son out by the lake, open for interruptions.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

For a moment, Jack stands in the doorway to the bar, stunned, before letting out a sigh and shaking his head. Anyone very close by may hear a muttered, "Fucking Milliways" as he steps in, closing the door behind him.

He stands in front of the door for a moment, before opening it again, slowly. Behind the door all he sees is his familiar cabin, and it takes all his self-control not to bang his head on the door in frustration.

Screw it, he won't head home just yet. He'll have a shower and a nap first. Turning on his heel, he lets the door close behind him and heads upstairs.

[ooc: Warning in the OOM for threats and woe and small flashbacks.]

inquisitivehero

Hank sits at the bar, fiddling with the insides of his Rather Odd Looking Laptop. He is trying to upgrade a system response technic that is giving him trouble, and concentrating. A large mug of his Rather Strong Coffee sits nearby, neglected in favor of the shiny.

colour_girl

It's a slow night. Which is why Iris is sitting at the bar with a very fruity looking drink sitting in front of her. She's tapping her fingers, and singing quietly to herself. If your close enough, you just might hear these words:

"I bless the rains down in Aaaafricaaaa..."

Why she's singing this particular song, the world may never know.

madetomend.livejournal.com

And Lo, let there be Sally.

Table. Sewing Machine. Five baskets of cloth. A large bag of odd assortments of clothes.

And one Skippy.

puckishly.livejournal.com

Puck is sitting atop the bar, legs swinging idly. He's turning over a piece of sea-glass in his fingers, eyes a curious, unfathomable shade of green.

He appears to be in deep thought, but it could easily be a ruse.

mogget_cat

*You know that white cat that's sometimes around? Well, it's lying on the bar, using its paw to keep its place in the Teach Yourself Chinese! book it is reading.*

*Chinese is rather hard to learn. Especially when one must learn to read it through English, which isn't one's first language, in this case.*

*So, to recap: Cat, Bar, Book. Say hi?*

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Canonical update.]

Guppy comes in through the front door and sits down at the bar.

And then he gets tea and sits somewhere else.

And then he completely ignores the tea he just bought and just sort of sits there looking across the room with a bemused and distracted expression.

Current Mood: flailing

musical-muse.livejournal.com

*Tere materializes on the piano, as usual. She slides off the lid and curls up contentedly on the bench to play*

In the beginning
There was the cold and the night
Prophets and angels gave us the fire and the light
Man was triumphant
Armed with the faith and the will
Even the darkest ages couldn't kill

Too many kingdoms
Too many flags on the field
So many battles, so many wounds to be healed
Time is relentless
Only true love perseveres
It's been a long time and now I'm with you
After two thousand years

This is our moment
Here at the crossroads of time
We hope our children carry our dreams down the line
They are the vintage
What kind of life will they live?
Is this a curse or a blessing that we give?

Sometimes I wonder
Why are we so blind to fate?
Without compassion, there can be no end to hate
No end to sorrow
Caused by the same endless fears
Why can't we learn from all we've been through
After two thousand years?

There will be miracles
After the last war is won
Science and poetry rule in the new world to come
Prophets and angels
Gave us the power to see
What an amazing future there will be

And in the evening
After the fire and the light
One thing is certain: Nothing can hold back the night
Time is relentless
And as the past disappears
We're on the verge of all things new
We are two thousand years

capt_angie

Angelina comes into the bar from the lake. She's wearing a set of dark green Quidditch robes with a golden talon emblazoned on the chest and her last name and the number 6 on the back. She has her broom- a modest Comet-360 for those who might notice- over her shoulder and she props it against the bar as she takes a seat. Three guesses at what she's been doing and the first two don't count.

She orders a Butterbeer and a small salad. Come say hi maybe?

not-only-wisdom.livejournal.com

It's been a reasonably quiet day, and so Nynaeve thinks little of settling at a table with a pot of tea, a few sandwiches, and her copied notes from Quinn's book.

The fact that she also has a book on the history of Malkier is probably irrelevant.

Even though that's the one she is reading at the moment.

Though she does glance up from time to time, watching the passerby.

This, it would seem, is Nynaeve relaxing--at least as much as she ever does.

song_tra_bong

Mary Anne's down in the bar, lounging in one of the chairs by the fire. She sits sideways with her legs swung over the arm, reading a play called Isolation.

It may not be the most uplifting story, but it's written by a friend so she's enjoying it. Despite the choice of reading material, she's not adverse to company.

kurosakiboy.livejournal.com

Ichigo is looking a bit better, his wounds having stopped their bleeding, his chest and shoulders bandaged up. He's sitting at a table, the top half of his Shinigami robes open to let his wounds breath a bit.

He's sitting by himself at a table, sipping a soda with his sword laid down on the ground beside him.

Come and chat, it's not often he's so calm. Or unlikely to die any minute.

gonna_live

There's not a swing out back any more.

There's a rock by the lake, though, and even if the evening is still a little bit chilly the sky is clear, and it's nothing a cup of hot chocolate and a sweater can't fix. And Kaylee is good at fixing things, most of the time.

Sometimes it's good to look at the black from ground level, is all.

gone_byebye

Ray is quietly going over a series of images on a small black computerized device given him a while ago by one Agent K. It's a fascinating experience to a guy from 1987.

He's really hoping he gets to keep it when he goes home.

wyrd-fox.livejournal.com

Foxtrot is not shilling for new converts to his religion.

Nor is he hitting up the lovely ladies of Milliways.

Nor is he attempting to break the Multiversal record for "Numbers of Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters Consumed At A Sitting Without Going Into Seizures".

Foxtrot X-ray has a mission. Some jerk has kidnapped his god and he's gonna help get him back. Since his major contribution will be tracking him down, he's making sure his nose is ready for the challenge.

A red fox is now running back and forth under the tables of Milliways, picking up random scents and tracking them to their source. Who knows who he'll run into?

latino_menace

Ramon enters the bar lookng chilled and tanned, dressed casually in white shirt and jeans. Life appears to be good for him right now - mainly because it is.

He grabs a bottle from bar and goes to sprawl on a couch, idly tapping at keys on his laptop. Lazy working day, obviously.

is_a_boy.livejournal.com

[OOM: Ophelia and Blaise make a decision.

Rated ...something for cuddling and mentions of sex. But honestly, what did you expect with the two of them?]

muddypetticoats.livejournal.com

Liz Bennet is once more in the bar.

Sometimes lightning does strike twice... and sometimes Liz is actually around more than once in a blue moon.

She is not, however, seated at her usual table.

river_meimei

River is under a table again tonight. It's a round table, and empty. Someone borrowed most of the chairs to cluster around another table; now that other table's empty too, and River's moved the last remaining chair away to join the others.

She has chalk. Several colors of it.

She's working intently on something colorful and very geometric in the circular area of floor protected by the table. It's taking shape slowly.