milliways_bar | Jul. 18th, 2006

Jul. 18th, 2006

*The frozen figures scattered about the bar, and especially around one table, abruptly shift and come to life, the eldritch glow around them fading.*

*They will probably be pleased to discover no lasting physical effects from the adventure they've just had.*

*Andrew's looking around.*

Is everybody okay?

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

(Obviously Millitimed prior to this.)

There was a sneaky wizard in dark clothing, who slipped past the table with the glowing, frozen Giles.

Moments later, the poor man's clothes went from a light buttoned down shirt and trousers to a pink formal frock, and a tiara on his head. Also makeup, and a sign with the words in a font with flashing colors.

It said, 'Lady Nelson,' on it.

Meanwhile, Draco was sitting back a ways again, with an attempt to replace his horns with a halo. Of course, it's almost impossible for this one to look innocent.

eyemightbite.livejournal.com

The Corinthian enters from the top of the stairs to the rooms. He pauses, obviously for effect, lights a hand-rolled cigaretts skinned in a red paper, and casually drops the burnt match over the railing into a waiting potted plant.

Mirrorshaded as always, he's in spotless black denim pants, pointy-toed boots, and a Blue Sun t-shirt. He looks very much like someone trying to fit in.

He takes an exaggerated draw from the fag, and moves to the bar.

underdarkangel.livejournal.com

Theres a big black panther occupying space in the bar. specifically the space by the fire.

Her master is no where in sight though so she just continues to rest every so often scanning the Bar in search of someone she knows.

latino_menace

OOM: Ramon takes a delivery

...and responds.

vegetarianvamp.livejournal.com

Inari is sitting at a table with a plate of vegetarian lasagne and a glass of coke.

... And I can't be more descriptive than that at 3:38AM, say sorry.

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

[OOM: After the dungeon crawl, Mark goes home. Rated D for drug reference and I for incredulous roommate.]

inquisitivehero

Hank is relaxing this morning, not working on anything urgent for once, but taking a few hours off as he examines a small piece of Preternaeum from his collection of odd elements. On the table nearby is a box, which looks, really, like a tool box, but is a containment unit for other such odds and ends. Nothing dangerous is in the box, but Hank has gotten used to things never being what they seem, and so even the benign is stored in safe conditions.

He is concentrating, but he is open to interruptions

corsec-jedi.livejournal.com

So a Corellian pilot walks into a bar...

Corran walks over to Bar in a cheerful, dare we say, mischeivous mood. Ordering up a firewhiskey, he also receives a note. Upon reading it, his grin shrinks noticeably, and that air of mischief vanishes like a puff of smoke. The bar breathes a collective sigh of relief.

Corran pens his response, then heads off to an unoccupied booth with his drink.

Bother!

theravenboy

It has been a warm, dry summer day in Wales, so when Bran comes in, he wears a black short-sleeved shirt, black jeans and sunglasses. The harp shines golden against his dark clothing.

[ooc: Aggressively open post. Please tag in, whether we've played before or not. Please note, though, that there are thunderstorms about and I may lose power and disappear at any time. Ping aim: ravenboy1976 if you have questions.]

[ETA: Ow, my hands. All threads slowtimed, please. Thanks for the lovely play!]

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Knox stumbles downstairs from his room, still wearing the same crumpled clothes he arrived in. He needs a shave. He needs food. At least he somehow managed to take a shower, which is why his hair is wet as well as disordered.

He plops down in the darker recesses of the room, and when the rat arrives, the exhausted reporter orders a large omelette, a large glass of juice, and a large mug of strong black coffee.

You can say hello, but it might not the smarter thing to ask how he is.

Current Mood: exhausted
Current Location: The Bar

jaded-jedi.livejournal.com

[OOM: Kyle finally gets up off her ass and starts moving Mara through canon.]

Mara comes storming through the door, and grabs a booth.

A proceeds to start glaring.

[ooc: mun in and out. tag and will get back to you]

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Here is an Ace sprawled comfortably in her favorite booth, with a lunch of chicken curry and tea, and, of course, a book on explosives.

This one's more about Chinese explosives and fireworks than her favored nitro, but diversity is good.

She's also in a terrifically good mood. Someone had a fantastic time scrapping with ugly monsters in the dungeons.

(OOC: Yarg, realized that if I want to actually get stuff at the library, I need to leave nowish. I'll be back in an hour or so, and am very sorry for running off.)

eternal-boy.livejournal.com

There is, in fact, if you should happen to direct your eyes towards one of the darker corners of the main bar area, a vampire to be found, though you should also know that he's not alone in the sense that he has both a book and a small puppy of a rather affectionate nature in the general vicinity, not to mention a rather over-attentive wait rat who well knows that the vampire in question, one Nick Knight, will neglect those basic necessities that rule even the undead such as eating and sleeping and human (or inhuman, or formerly human, but most importantly, intellectual) interaction when his mind is on a matter of any sort of importance; at this moment, however, nothing pressing in his world, except perhaps for a certain case which he and his post-mortem partner happen to be working on, but he hasn't been back to Toronto and thus no time has past and as such, he feels no need to go back any time soon since he's quite enjoying his little miniature vacation at the bar even if he no longer really lives there for extended periods of time despite the fact that he has become romantically involved with another bar patron with whom he can no longer interact while in his home universe even though they originally met there by virtue (so to speak) of the fact that, in Nick's world, Lawrence died several decades ago, though none of this really has much to do with the fact that he's just sitting at the moment at a booth and would love some company.

[ooc: I figured I'd do my own take on the 'one sentence entry post' *grins* One English Major's soul (my own) was sacrificed in the making of this post, however. Keep that in mind.]

lvpd_sidle

Sara is sitting in a booth, drinking coffee.

The gah-I-hate-the-world expression is probably the result of drinking too much with Mark after the Dungeon Crawl.

No loud noises, please.

tragic_mask

Melpomene sits in a dusky corner of the bar, watching the shouting, laughing people as they pass by. She looks restless, though her boots are crossed on the coffee table and her hands are calm as on each arm of the chair—like she's waiting for something.

In her right hand she holds a smouldering cigarette loosely, as she always does.

On the coffee table before her is a round container made of wood, deep black and shiny, like leather. It's not menacing in the least. Melpomene looks at it for a while, then leans forward to pick it up through a cloud of gently dissipating cigarette fumes.

There's a faint noise from inside the cup as her fingers settle around it. If you're not listening, you won't notice—

It's almost like the sound of rattling dice.

She shakes it back and forth softly, close to her ear. There's a small smile on her face, barely discernible. Melpomene looks up, sharply, at the rest of the bar, and raises her voice to cut through the noise.

"Anyone for a game of chance?"

[ooc: see this backroom post before tagging. grazi!]

forsaken-bard.livejournal.com

Out of Milliways:

Asmodeand and Lanfear prepare for the party with a typical amount of sniping at one another and frustration. The evening is not without ominous evil plotting however. Lest the reader think the unthinkable.

conan-cimmerian.livejournal.com

For a moment, the sound of fighting and fires rage outside the door. Then, in rushes the Cimmerian, both his sword and his armor bloodspattered... And he stops.

"Ymir's bones, where am I?" He looks around, and readies his sword. He doesn't know what magic this is, but he's sure he'll soon master it's Gordian nature.

explorertruman.livejournal.com

Truman wasn't by the Observation Window today. Instead, he was sitting at a table, and reading a book on exploration. Also some milk and a plate of various cookies. Felt like a snack.

He casually glanced up to watch the goings-on of the bar, and looked very friendly for chatting.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco had been out with his broom again earlier today. Now he was back in the bar. Checking over some potion notes while he idly had some food and tea. There's some mighty odd listing on those potions notes. Something relating to Cannabis and what looked like names for possible mushrooms to anybody who might recognize either.
Hmmmm....
Or happened to be looking over his shoulder. Despite him being in a booth toward the back again.

namo

[OOM: Námo visits Faramir in Gondor before the Man arrives for the first time in Milliways. On his way back to Nerdanel's home, though, he is waylaid by Ruin who imparts a little warning. No warnings necessary.]

gone_byebye

Ray quietly makes his way down the stairs, dressed in a respectably adult fashion for once- shoes and all, and carrying a hefty brushed-metal box with a sturdy handle. Whatever mathematical madness gripped him last night, it seems to've passed now. He heads over to the Bar and sets down a bag the size of his fist. "That's for my bill," he says. "I expect to be coming back, but if I don't, put whatever else is left over on the tab of somebody who needs it."

Once the bag disappears, he places the notes.

( Peter Venkman )

( Danny Fenton )

( Egon Spengler )

( Agent K )

( The Doctor )

Once the notes are safely in Bar's keeping he gets himself a glass of the green stuff, but he'll be out the door as soon as his drink is finished. He's up for conversation in the meantime, though.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

So, there's an Atton inna bar. He's in the rafters, juggling, and if he seems slightly worse than usual, it's because he's distracted. What he's distracted by, we may never know, but evidently the process of being distracted by it involves staring wistfully (and slightly melodramatically) into the distance.

On the other side of the bar is Chichiri. He's just sitting and people-watching, humming a tune under his breath. His mask is peeling slightly - He really should get a new one. His current one is just a tiny bit worn.

Come bother either of them.

eyemightbite.livejournal.com

The Corinthian enters the bar from one of the garage entrances. Again in his tailored maroon suit, and again with the black Tshirt under, and always mirrorshaded. He is, however, carrying a linen bag. He starts for the bar, but is distracted by a bit of noise. Curious to the gathering, he inches his way toward the women along the line of plants...

buriedmybrother.livejournal.com

Antigone drifts inside, twigs in her hair. She took another stab at climbing trees again today, and was moderately successful at it-- she managed to catch herself every time she was about to fall.

Then again, she hadn't climbed very high.

Anyhow, now she's indoors, scrapes and scratches on her arms but otherwise all right. She gets a glass of water from the bar and settles on a stool.

It's a lazy sort of evening.

doc-venkman.livejournal.com

(OOM: In Peter's NYC, all is not well. And once again, Dana's family is the target.)

The Front Door opened, with Peter carrying a dozing Maria while he was offering a hand to Dana to help her into the bar. One small problem. She couldn't enter anymore.

She then just said, "Keep her safe."

"I will. I'll be back, and we're getting Oscar back. And he'll be fine. I promise." There was a long kiss given, and then he stepped into the bar. The door then closed on Dana standing on a sidewalk near a now police-taped day care center.

Peter found the closest chair he could to sit in, clutching his daughter in his arms. He seemed as pale as... well pale as a ghost.

dear-of-heart.livejournal.com

Cora almost stumbles when the schoolroom pantry opens into Milliways—it rarely happens two times in a row.

She looks about the full room cautiously—still wary from last night, when the man she was talking to froze—and orders stew from the bar, before carefully taking it to a booth.

Feel free to interrupt!

harvard_bounty

Two men are facing off across a table in a shady corner of the bar. One is wearing a dusty leather coat, a well-worn hat and a knowing smirk. The other bears an eerie resemblance to him, save for the presence of scars and lack of a right hand.

There's a poker game afoot.

The pot, piled in the middle of the table, is a large mound of cookies.

Feel free to comment on the resemblance, steal a cookie, or join the game. Just be warned that neither of them is above cheating.

[ooc: Millitimed to before this. Standard multi-pup guidelines apply - specify who you're tagging or you might get either or both. You should also be aware that the mun doesn't actually know how to play poker. >.>]

female-were.livejournal.com

Same place, a booth. Same position, resting low in the booth, her legs stretched across to rest on the opposite side of the booth. Same catalogs, mostly cloths and a few for knives and swords. Raina might not have actually moved from last night.

Except, she's wearing a different outfit. Jean shorts and a crop top that, were she sitting up properly, would show her stomach off nicely. As well her once free hair has been loosely braided back.

Feel free to bother. She's more likely to ask opinion than bite. Unless you ask nicely of course.

lvpd_sidle

Sara's hangover has mostly abated.

"Bar, mind giving this to Angel for me? Thanks."

( Note for Angel )

After that, she heads up for bed.

fighter--pilot.livejournal.com

Shalla's outside by the lake. She sincerely hopes the trees here are not alive, as she is beating one rather mercilessly. Poor tree, being the putty-dummy.

The tree very possibly would like someone to distract Shalla. She probably wants some distraction too.

cheerychaplain

Father Mulcahy has a seat in a booth, a rather battered hat, a slightly perturbed expression, a book, and a glass of whiskey.

He is eyeing Milliways at large with more wary than he has since he first arrived. Minding your own business and suddenly being transported to a dungeon crawling with impossible creatures will do that to a person.

morbid-midweek.livejournal.com

Wednesday is back in the bar tonight, being unusually quiet and subdued.

No book, just her at the bar, drinking lemonade. Cicero, however, is in attendance, sitting motionless in his plastic carrying case. For some reason, she felt like she needed the company.

ather-fledgling.livejournal.com

Aubrey's lounging on the couch. Head at one end, bare feet at the other, his head pillowed under his arms. His eyes are closed and he listens to the sounds and experiences the scents of the bar.

Feel free to disrupt his lounging at will though. Not like he doesn't get enough of it throughout the years.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

For her fortune-telling class, Elda has decided perhaps to go with astrology. (There is such a thing as drinking too much tea- at least when you are drinking it only for getting tea leaves.) However, to read the future in the stars, one must be able to read the stars, and plot their courses-

So, Elda and Wellard are outside tonight, a little ways from the bar. They commandeered a table to hold a red-shaded lantern, a couple star charts, and Elda's notebooks and homework. There is also a telescope set up, but at the moment, the young midshipman is showing the griffin how to measure the angle of altitude on Altair in the Aquila constellation.

Two characters, two muns. Ping both together or separate, and feel free to ping others who are out to see what the two are doing!

dragonvolunteer.livejournal.com

Cimorene's at a small table by the bar. There's tea, there are cookies, but there isn't any company, at least, not yet.

But she does have her Vergil, and she'll read it if there's nobody around to talk to.

thisfatefulhour

Outside, there's a brief rush of wind.

A few minutes later, one of the tables has a blonde young man at it, reading. Occasionally he reads aloud, though under his breath; it sounds like poetry, from what can be heard.

kayip.livejournal.com

Behrooz is wandering by the lake, every so often picking up rocks and attempting to skip them across the water.

It works occasionally, though other times the rocks are flung into the lake a little lazily. As a distraction from wandering closer to the forest, however, it's working quite well. For now.

dead_hooker_2

Enter Trina, stage left, short black skirt, black sweater, black shoes. She's tired of black. She's tired of answering the same questions over and over and over. Actually, she's tired in general, and it may very well show, but she won't thank you for mentioning it.

But feel free to mention anything else.

before-w.livejournal.com

Verily, view before you a visage--oh, to hell with it.

V's in the bar.

He is not knitting. Nor does he have tea. Nor, in fact, is he brooding.

He's whistling behind his mask and making notes on a pad.

...Maybe he's in the wrong bar.

mctrillian.livejournal.com

( Acting for the first time as a mother-daughter team EVER, our heroines help the Sub-Etha network track down minor celebrity Lue Farinelli, who's been dodging interviews ever since an attack on her Speedster. )

gonna_live

The swing out back got finished over the weekend -- vines adorning it and all -- and so thus Kaylee is now sitting on it with a beer, head tilted back, looking up at the stars.

Hey, she finished it, she should get to enjoy it.

stilljustandrew

*Andrew sneaks downstairs, and sidles up to Bar. He sets his hand palm down on the bartop and has a quiet word with her, and then affixes a sign to the bulletin board.*

If you were on the accidental dungeoncrawl
last night, your drinks tonight are on me.
Least I can do, until I find out what caused it.

Sorry for the trouble,
Andrew Wells

*Aaaand he sneaks back upstairs.*

gabriel_tam

Gabriel Tam's been doing a lot of research lately.

Some of it is legislation-related, of course. Some is by request, and given his previous experiences with having his work observed, he's taking several precautions while looking into Malcolm Reynolds' background.

Some of it is personal. Very personal. It had been Reynolds who told him about how matters had fallen out on Massena; they'd all been right to be wary. Right now, Gabriel Tam has more than a suspicion as to who was responsible; all he needs is to find the proof, and that's only a matter of time-- especially in light of what his most recent set of queries has returned.

He's putting his datapad back in his pocket when he steps through the door into Milliways. For once, it's deliberate.

iambetadraconis

OOM: While Rabastan's off chasing Death Eaters, Rodolphus is at the Lestrange's family home suspecting that his brother's turned traitor to the Dark Lord. Little does Rodolphus realise just how close to the truth he actually is...

Current Mood: displeased

simon_doctor

Simon Tam is in the bar.

At a table, trying to decide what to order for dinner.

He'd be perusing a menu, if the bar ever actually had one.

inquisitivehero

Hank moves across the field towards the forest, nostrils wide for the scent of blood, eyes searching. As he approaches the forest, he lifts his voice to call.

"Mary-Anne? Can you hear me? I'm here to help!"

He keeps moving, out into the night.

(closed post, just to establish the search)

river_meimei

River is ensconced on the couch, her head tipped comfortably back against the arm. She's watching the ceiling with absorption.

There's a small basket of french fries resting on her stomach. Every so often she remembers to eat one.

call-me-ree.livejournal.com

Irene Tassenbaum stopped dying her hair a while ago; it's cut quite short now, silvery-grey.

She's dressed in jeans and a blue tank top with a half-buttoned blouse over it. It's hot in Taos, by watch and by warrant. She's got her nose stuck in a file folder and doesn't look up until she's well into the Bar.

"Oh. Oh dear."

maxwellsdemon02

Duo is sitting in a booth, feet up on the bench in front of him and pad of paper resting on his knees. The remains of dinner are on the table in front of him.

His tongue is just sticking out of the corner of his mouth, in what is apparently intense concentration on whatever he is doing.

dr-mckay.livejournal.com

It's oxygen deprivation. Or stress. Both. Maybe stress enduced the whole escape story, too, and he's still stuck there. Who knows.

Pinching himself doesn't work. It just hurts. But he could be imagining that, too. If he can imagine a semi-dressed, dripping Carter in times of need, he can imagine this.

He does not, however, order jello. Just large amounts of chocolate icecream.

Current Mood: worried

grovecj.livejournal.com

CJ comes to the Bar, carrying a large totebag, that seems quite full of something... he pins a note to the notice board first...

To the people who helped with the Caligula's Casino situation: I would like to express my gratitude for all your effort and dedication.

You can find me at the Bar, or at Room 156, as you perfer.

- CJ

Yes, Heist People, its time to get Paid! Just don't draw attention from security, who might not like the whole business.

CJ heads to a booth, and sits down with a Sprunk and cheeseburger.