milliways_bar | May. 21st, 2006

May. 21st, 2006

mahtigwess.livejournal.com

Perhaps you'll have already gone an' heard this story, my friend. Now, I ain't gonna tell you that tired ole line 'bout a man walkin' into a bar, 'cause I don't reckon you'd believe me anyway -- iffen you did, well, more fool you -- an' moreover it ain't exactly true, now is it?

I will tell you this, though.

The door opens -- an' any fool with eyes coulda told you that -- an' a fellow walks in, 'cause that ain't false, although I reckon you could still go an' make an argument about the definitions've truth an' falsehood an' surely a career in politics ain't a damn long way down th'road f'you iffen you do.

Fellow walks in, an' then he goes an' sits down, 'cause there's some as'd tell you that fool's a damn lazy one.

An' maybe they're right.

latino_menace

Ramon was absent from the bar last night. Strange, that. The fact that he's here now though says less about his social nature and more about his egotistical need to prove to certain people that he can do whatever the hell he wants, without repercussions.

It's possible this will catch up with him someday. As far as he's concerned though, this is another evening in the bar, lounging in an armchair with a fat cigar and a cold glass of tequila. The smug expression is, of course, a given.

[OOC: Not plotlocked, but if Jack tags any other threads will be millitimed to before that.]

gonna_live

[OOM: Kaylee has enough of the awkward. So she asks Mal if he wants tea.

Hilarity ensues.]

oldromansaint.livejournal.com

Santino entered Milliways, with a flair developed over an extended period of gluttony.

He smiled warmly, happy to have returned (and now quite certain which door led where) and placed himself in an empty seat at an empty table. There was more than enough room for company.

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Gotham = Cold and snowy

Milliways = warm and dry

Knox = staying in Milliways for a while

[ooc: mun = online for a couple of hours]

not-one-drop.livejournal.com

Well, look who's up bright and early. Mal is down in the bar, perched on a barstool with a slightly smug smile - though, if you ask, she won't tell you why. She's also people-watching, and she may even be sketching you.

Care to say hello?

http://users.livejournal.com/_estsanatlehi_/

She'd had a sneaking sense of Dread all day the day before, strong enough that her concentration was off and she hadn't been able to get into the bar until just now.

It was worse here, and not as bad all at the same time. She didn't like it, not at all.

Something was very, very wrong.

She just couldn't pinpoint what yet.

(Reposted from yesterday, if someone could fill her in on the Coyote situation I'd appreciate it.
If this is plot that I've missed signing up for or something, please let me know that too, but, yeah, it's that whole family in trouble thing, she's freaking out in my head a little. I blame her for my migraine last night.)

goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com

Clive was in the bar, in a booth, bobbling his head along to whatever it was he was listening to, doing more piecework, though this one was at least turning into something that sort of resembled clothes.

He was keeping an eye out for anyone who may have seen the notice, as well as anyone who'd already signed up.

Go talk to him, join in his craziness.

3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com

((OOM. Having negotiated her way out of Liam's pre-dawn tutelage, Goldy attends her first training session with Alanna and Miho. Somewhat predictably, it is less Shang and more... shenanigans. Rated G for Girly fun!))

princeinexile

[OOM: Zuko leaves a haven behind, thinking on what he learned there and what others missed.]

dear-of-heart.livejournal.com

It had started, like most things, innocently enough.

I should sit, Cora had told herself after Ingress’s ball, and rest my feet for a few minutes.

And after sitting, a ‘few minutes’ had turned into closing eyes her for a short while so that her grandparents wouldn’t be suspicious about her being so sleepy; they would think she’d only been to the schoolhouse and back.

…Cora’s curled up in an armchair by the fireplace, still in her formal dress from the night before.

Maybe someone should wake her up?

eldorne-girl.livejournal.com

[Delia was going to go to Ingress's party, but in the end...didn't. She was feeling edgy, but at same time in an odd haze.]

[it was strange, but she didn't think about it much. Instead, she just asked for a bottle of wine from Bar and found a booth to curl up in. Not one far away from people, just a booth]

misterparker.livejournal.com

Parker's at a table, reading a newspaper someone left behind. His brow is creased. That might be because of the news. It might be because the date on the paper was sixty years before he was born.

silvia-broome.livejournal.com

[ Silvia's flat, New York City, 2004: Witwatersrand ]

wizard_howell

How bore to be dulling. Er... dulled to bore? No, wait, that's not it. Iesu mawr, Howell, dos i chwarae efo dy nain. Aros. Da, da.

Some nights, having an extreme love affair with the walls of a place can be a very reassuring thing. Other nights, walls are simply the props that allow one to get through life with relative dignity (relative being the operative word). Tonight's one of the latter for Howl. There are no poetic undertones to anything he does as he makes his way carefully to a nearby table where he sits blinking rather heavily. One of the wait-rats stops by, but Howl only orders coffee.

With sugar.

And heavy cream.

Two cups.

(For himself.)

petraarkanian.livejournal.com

Petra throws open the door from her verse to Milliways and steps in, firing her gun once into the space on the other side. She reaches out and slams the door shut, seemingly deaf to where she is now. She backs up a step, but doesn’t turn around.

“I’m done running. Come and get me now.” Petra says under her breath as she steadies her gun in one hand. The other hangs useless, a hole though the shoulder and blood gushing out. Both of her pants legs are torn and her shoulder is not the only bullet wound in sight. Her face is dirty.

She still does not realize where she is.

ooc: Now our healer disappear. I guess the RP is on hold for good.

creator_raven

[OOM: It's not the leaving he fears, it's the not coming back.]

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

You know, it's really amazing what a reunion can do to one's mood. For instance, Ace was pretty wreaked earlier today. Now, however, she's humming happily (and terribly off-key) as she works on fixing one of her little timers. She might play fast and loose with timing sometimes, but being off by a half-minute is a bit much. She's taken over a table to aid in this project, with all of her bits of wiring and electronics spread out all around. Ace is a big believer in using all space available.

That, or she's a big fan of messes.

Hush.

tristranthorn

Not much to say except that Tristran is in the bar.

And he's thirsty.

Also, he's a little socially deprived. Days alone in the desert will do that to you.

Come feed the socially-starved ~~Sim~~ boy with pleasant conversation! or something.

lvpd_sidle

Sara has taken a seat near one of the fireplaces, the book American Gods in her hands.

Her good mood doesn't seem to have diminished, and she wouldn't say no to company.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

Molly has a lot of packing to do yet, tonight. But for now, she's sitting at a table with a view of the room, enjoying a glass of wine. The bottle's on the table, along with an extra glass... She's willing to share if anyone cares to join her.

blue_ajah

Despite recent events, time does continue to pass and the Wheel to weave. Moiraine still fully intends to see to Ace's well-being and to the matter of the White Rider both-- but there are other matters that require her attention, as well.

All things are part of the Pattern, and it is the Pattern itself that will be examined tonight-- by another, on her behalf, and not without great risk inherent in the process.

As a result, when the Aes Sedai glides into the bar, she is seeking any of several people.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells is at one of the booths, his papers and envelopes from yesterday neatly arrayed in front of him. However, he also has two new additions. One is an illustrated volume on dolphin species of the North Atlantic.

The other is an olive-covered, extremely plain-looking volume on the uses of sound and sonic weapons in warfare.

silvia-broome.livejournal.com

Coffee, for Silvia, suffices when alcohol is inconvenient. It is inconvenient now, because drinking liquor, regardless how light, will bring questions she doesn't want to answer. She's at the bar, hands wrapped around the mug, elbows slumped and eyelids heavy--which, to everyone else, makes her look tired. Hence the coffee, right?

Current Mood: gloomy
Current Music: Lena Horne - Stormy Weather (because it's appropriate and psiTunes started playing it)

gone_byebye

Ray's been in the infirmary just about as long as he can handle it. Fortunately, according to the medical types, a Giardia infection nromally lasts between two and six weeks if left untreated. Being shot up with antibiotics left, right and center cut the legs out from under the infection, so he's been released now, as long as he promises to a) wash his hands a lot and b) not drink any more un-boiled river, stream, or lake water, plzkthx. Also not to swim in the lake.

Which is all a long and awfully complicated way of saying that a rather paler and skinnier than usual Ray is in the Bar tonight, at his favorite seat by the Window, with a plate of one of those no-way-in-hell-that's-natural-coloring macaroni and cheese things that come from the good people at Kraft.

He's looking sociable, at least.

jedi-exile.livejournal.com

In a corner of the bar, the Exile sits, sitting cross-legged, hands on her knees, eyes closed. Either she's sleeping, in deep thought or trying to get herself in a better state of control.

The mun thinks she'll go with the latter. If you prod her softly, or give her fair warning, it's safe to say that she probably won't smack you with her lightsaber.

velocitygirl

Perched upon an armchair, Inyri Forge has a cup of tea and a book, translated to Aurebesh. Beside her sits Wynssa the puppy...who doesn't look like much of a puppy anymore, nearing her first birthday.

They could stand to be bothered.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

[In the Infirmary, millitimed to last night: Angela begins to remember.

Warning for angst.]

creator_raven

The front door opens, letting in the dark and the cold and the light, and the faintest hint of song.

There is a flash of vast black wings, and then a tall skinny man in a ragged dark coat is standing there, instead.

He is not smiling, and there are faint lines framing his mouth and eyes.

It might be weariness.

Raven pauses just beyond the threshold, hand still on the door.

Then he takes a breath, lets it out, and moves forward.

His hand leaves the door, and he doesn't look behind him as it swings shut.

click

mandercommander.livejournal.com

Dooku inna bar. He's eating...food, and enjoying it quite a bit, despite some boredom. Someone should break the boredom, neh?

shelley_winters

Redhead in the bar, brooding.

Shelley'll deny it, if she pays attention, but for now she's just sitting there with slowly cooling tea, gazing down sightlessly at the black mark around her finger.

Please do bother her.

She doesn't like being alone with her thoughts very much, these days.

just_the_doctor

The Doctor's back down in the bar today, plus book. This one he borrowed from the magical library that Asar-Suti provided him a key to.

Don't worry, it's just one of the histories. Nothing innately magical about the book itself. Those seem to be charmed not to be able to be brought out of the room anyway. At least, not by him.

So, it's perfectly safe to come over and have a chat. He'll even offer you tea.

destruction1_0

He sets them up.

He (accidentally) knocks them down.

He tries again.

He sets them up.

He (accidentally) knocks them down.

And Destruction laughs, a little,

(and the table rattles)

and begins to build his card house for a third time.

withrocksin

Enter one musician (sans rocks), from upstairs. After a brief stop by Bar, he settles in at a table, with a notebook and a jar of dwarf bread.

prydeful

Kitty on her back on a couch.

Dragon resting on her stomach.

Trying to figure out how to drink from her coffee mug that's resting on a table without sitting up.

So far, she isn't successful, but hasn't resigned herself to moving.

Not yet.

But the caffeine is tempting her.

Damn.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco headed over to the bar with a bouquet in his hand, along with a parchment scroll attached to it. The bouquet was a bit unusual. There were roses in it, blood red ones. But there was also belladonna and foxglove mixed in. There was also a spell to preserve the plants from drying or wilting too soon until time.

( Miss Wednesday Addams )

Seemed much easier to simply send an owl, but when in Milliways, mail delivery via bar did suffice.

He then headed out back, and then there was a white fox padding around near the lake, mostly staying to the meadows.

gramarye1971

Merriman is seated at a table, writing industriously with a fountain pen on a pad of paper.

Not a note, not a letter. Merely a writing exercise he's used in the past to clear his mind of distractions and attempt to regain a better sense of focus.

Nominative, genitive, dative, accusative, vocative, ablative, locative.

Declining Latin nouns and pronouns is not everyone's idea of an enjoyable way to spend an evening, but the steady, formal progression of the language lends itself to meditation in a way.

the_antiangst

Angel inna bar, to say nothing of the skirt... though the shirt is actually noteworthy, for once.
It's a white t-shirt, about three sizes too big for Angel, that says 'Error: smash head on keyboard to continue' across the front. Probably a remnant of a certain someone visiting.
In any case, Angel's at a table, eating dinner. Company would not be turned away.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

[[OOM: Molly and Cain pack and prepare to leave the bar for a while.]]

morbid-midweek.livejournal.com

Wednesday hasn't been in the bar for a while now, as she's been enjoying her summer at home. However, she's not at all unhappy to find herself here tonight instead of one of several spare rooms.

She makes her way to the bar alone - Cicero remains in his large and climate controlled tank in her room now - and orders a lemonade. It arrives promptly, of course, but there is also a very odd bouquet and note with it.

After reading the note, Wednesday just stares at it all for a moment, and then very quietly asks for a pair of scissors. She carries it all to a table and then very carefully begins to snip the rose blooms off the stems.

mogget_cat

*Sometimes the general background chatter of Milliways, with its good cheer, worry, friendships and enmities, is not music enough. Musicians feel it, occasionally, and take up their instruments to add to the magic of the place.*

*That is what Yrael is here to do. He's at the piano. Come, he'll play for you.*

princeinexile

[OOM: Zuko returns to Milliways... via the stables.]

He comes in from the outside; he is dusty, musty-- smelling of dry earth, sun and sweat, of cracking straw, feathers and horseflesh. It is ... a pungent aroma, to say the least, which may be why he seems to avoid company as he approaches the bar. He tosses down a few more coins, and then says, "For the bird's stabling. For the room. Key, pen and paper, please."

Bar provides the key; he leans over, scribbles out a note for the stablemaster, and then turns, scanning the bar for familiar faces that may not recognize his own; his cheeks sunken, his eyes dark -- he is too thin, to weary, too dirty and humbled to be Prince Zuko.

alwaysroomforhope

Steph's playing piano tonight.

She isn't very good; lucky she picked a quiet night, really. But she's working her way haltingly through one of the few pieces she remembers from lessons - a sweet, lilting melody - stopping every few bars or so and repeating a phrase until she gets it right.

It'll probably be nice to listen to once she's got the whole thing straight. But for now - well, the most that can be said for it is that at least it's keeping her occupied.

ETA: OOC: mun gobed now, but if you tag anyway I'll pick those up inna morning.

guppy_sandhu

It is a familiar scene. The young curly-haired doctor in a booth near the infirmary with two large piles of paper and empty coffee cups.

Guppy has been there for hours. Gradually the paper is moving from the left pile to the right. He looks tired, and to be frank, bored rigid.

He could use a break around now.

maxwellsdemon02

One Duo Maxwell, perched on a bar stool. He's picking at the remains of his dinner and reading a (copied) case file.

Obviously straight from work, he's still in uniform, hair braided tight, and holster not quite visible under the jacket.

[OOC: Aw dammit, that would be thunder. Another night.]