milliways_bar | Jul. 20th, 2006

Jul. 20th, 2006

(OOM: And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.)

Spoilers for Y: The Last Man #40

bohemian-mark.livejournal.com

[OOM: Sometimes, you just have to talk to your brother.]

The door opens, and Mark leans in it for a moment, on the phone again, his bike by his side. "Mom, I can't come up this weekend. No, I can't come up next weekend either. I'm going to Santa Fe in about three weeks for filming. Mom, what the hell do you think I do? Sit around all day? Alright, alright. I'll try and get up there before I... Right. Just... tell Rebecca hi. And hug Esther and John for me. Yeah, mom. Me too. Bye." Hanging up, Mark parks his bike by the front of the bar, and then claims a table, spreading out a pile of papers and sketches in front of him, humming gently to himself, hard at work.

If you need him for anything, he's more than happy to talk.

conan-cimmerian.livejournal.com

Conan is passed out at one of the tables. Strewn around him are various mugs, some of which still have drink in them. Held in his hand, even though he's asleep, is his sword.

He's also snoring. Loudly. Come and wake him, if you dare, or lack any sense of danger or caution.

goodbyesandusky.livejournal.com

OOM the third. Clive's re-adjusting.

beauty-marred.livejournal.com

It isn't unusual that Narcissa prefers mornings in Milliways. It's quieter. Fewer people to deal with. She can have a cup of tea in peace.

And that's precisely what she's doing this morning, sitting primly at a table, a pot of Earl Grey slowly steeping.

precocioustilda.livejournal.com

And lo, there is a Matilda.

Sitting by the fire with her bag open and a sizeable pile of origami paper peeking out, folding innocuous little white cranes and turtles and other assorted objects and tossing them into the flames when she's done. This cheerful task is accompanied by a large mug of hot chocolate.

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

One reporter. Five newspapers. Yes, it's time for Compare the Coverage, as Knox looks to see what angles are being played in the Mayor Borg Indictment story, and by whom. Along the way, he's also looking to see if the Bat's been around. He wonders if the Dark Knight - a turn of phrase he still hopes to use - has any reason to get involved in the Borg case. Or if he even cares.

Come say hello to the valiant reporter.

[ooc: slowtime possible]

lvpd_sidle

[OOM: Like the song says, every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. Rated B for break-up and W for wistful.]

lvpd_sidle

The door opens and Sara comes in, probably looking out of sorts to those who know her.
Nobody said it was easy.
She gets some coffee and chooses an isolated booth, looking out the windows contemplatively.
No one ever said it would be this hard.
[ooc: Not exactly plot-locked, but please--only people Sara knows.]

silvia-broome.livejournal.com

When Silvia asked for a newspaper she meant one from her time, but bar being bar gave her one from her time plus. July 20, 2006. She's reading it now while sitting on one of the couches, frowning. She's not frowning at the date so much as she is at the content of the newspaper.

Current Mood: shocked

yuppie-trash.livejournal.com

[Patrick. Out of Milliways, and out of the shower.]

gonna_live

[OOM: Kaylee has a project, because soon her old bunk will be occupied again. Naturally the best time to complete this project is the middle of the night.]

jedi-exile.livejournal.com

She woke up in some random room, hurting. A change of clothes on the bed, provided by a waitrat, presumably. She'd changed into them, and carefully walked down the stairs, wincing as she walked.

Atton had tried to heal her wounds, she remembers that much. She also remembers helping him...and it not working out so well as she passed out moments later.

Passing out sounds like a good plan, if she didn't sit soon. So now she's seated, in a booth, slumped over slightly against the wall, a cup of tea before her on the table.

Bleargh.

sister-lucy.livejournal.com

There is a large geisha in the bar.

No, really. Paper parasol and all.

Of course for some, it's not an unusual sight.

...fine, it's an unusual sight regardless.

Still, Lucy's in a somewhat good mood. Could be she's just cursed someone.

Could be she's just happy to be off the damn boat for a while.

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

It's like coming up for air. Like seeing again after weeks in the dark. Like finding your oldest, closest friend again.

Jack makes his way slowly towards the bar with a large smile.

gone_byebye

[OOM: Email saves the world. We hope.]

It would not be fair to say that Ray looks like the walking dead right now. Most walking dead look a lot nicer around here. And the ones that don't are generally asking for brains, rather than Cocoa Puffs. Lord knows they don't wear Cthulhu slippers and the clothes they changed into yesterday after getting the first of fourteen rabies vaccination shots and washing off someone else's blood and yuk.

Most of them, anyway.

The important thing is- Ray, half awake, in the Bar, with breakfast.

watcher-g-man.livejournal.com

Giles was out back, sitting near the lake. He needed to do something. Getting harder to maintain the balance every day. Not when temptation for more lingered. He had dark dreams before, but lately, he was on the opposing side of everything he stood for and cared about.

Unfortunately, before he could head back, and speak again with the coven in Devon, the door stopped working again. Obviously it meant he would have to deal with matters here somehow.

But how?

(OOC: not plot-locked, but please ping first)

Current Music: Adema's "Giving In"

slayer_fray

[OOC: After locking up Martin, Mel leaves a note in the office for all Security about his situation]

kurosakiboy.livejournal.com

The boy is outside again, out back beyond the lake. He likes to be well away from the main bar when he trains, so that none will notice him swinging his sword, positively glowing with energy. A light blue aura surround him as he leaps and swings, his body covered in sweat as he goes over exercises and desperately wills himself to achieve that which he desires.

Day after day he's been out here, training as best he can by himself, all for Bankai. All so he can be strong again, strong enough to protect those he cares for. It sounds corny, he knows, but it's true. That's the only reason he fights. Not for more power and not for a love of fighting, but so that he can be strong enough to do as he has always wanted. Protect people.

So again today he came out, made his way out across the grass until he was almost out of sight, rocks and trees and the like hiding him well enough. He's not totally hidden, and his entire body is glowing brightly, but he doubts anybody will bother him anyways.

...or not.

[ooc: Plot-locked, so sorry.]

callmefelicia.livejournal.com

Adam comes in, cheerfully enough, and heads over to perch on a barstool and get a Coke float.

He keeps half an eye out for Thomas, as he almost always does.

lordofravens.livejournal.com

Roäc.

Bird again.

Sleeping on a chair.

By the fire where the radio is playing a Queen song.

Dreaming. Of something.

Maybe that dungeon crawl he was involved in, or maybe it's a dream of Arda.

It's nothing that can't be interrupted.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: "The Miracle" - Queen

steelartisan

Piotr outside painting, not far from the banks of the lake. Different palettes of paints and mixing bowls are scattered all around him, and he is bent over his larger, heavy sketch pad that is propped up like a makeshift easel on a convenient rock. Next to all his supplies, and held down by a few rocks at the corners, is a freshly finished piece that is a riot of fantastical floral colors that really don't look like anything found around this bar.

He feels a little guilty that he isn't at the mansion being useful. But he's gotten tired of having to either paint around all the Sentinel guards that fill that landscape or fit them into his work.

Besides, flowers make him happy.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

It'd really be a crying shame to waste what passes for summer here at Milliways, so Ace is outside, tossing a frisbee for a rather enthusiastic Magic.

...

I said 'enthusiastic', not 'skilled'. The frisbee is hitting the grass more times than not, but Magic brings it back proudly every time, regardless.

princeinexile

[OOM: After being returned to a human state forcibly, Zuko finds his uncle has made his way back from their world when he needs him most. Accepting help and comfort is something Zuko does not do easily, though.]

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

Faith is in the bar, with coffee, perched at a booth with her feet up.

She's making a mental list of all the ways her circlet can be used as a weapon, but she wouldn't mind being interrupted.

obligatoryass

Logan's in the bar. He hasn't been gone long, but it was long enough to do something unpleasant.

And that might explain the mildly morose look on his face. Pretending to mourn isn't much fun, and maybe he's practicing.

Or maybe Trina just makes him sad.

It's hard to say, but he's not eating, drinking or sipping from his flask, so it's probably not the best of all possible situations. Or the worst, either.

thelastearthman.livejournal.com

OOM: In which Arthur comes to terms with some things.

Current Mood: okay

r-dewinter.livejournal.com

Lady Caroline deWinter arrives in Milliways in grand style - an off-the-shoulder gown, a skirt of lace and ruffles and flounces. She's divinely beautiful and quite the grand lady.

She's also been dead for about a hundred years, by the time Rebecca has dressed as her for the Manderley masquerade ball. She's more than pleased with her costume - it's perfect. She had to harrass the seamstresses for ages before they got it right, but it was worth it.

Rebecca pauses before a window and admires herself. Yes, it's quite the triumph, and she can't wait to show it off. Though Milliways society is hardly equal to Manderley's, she supposes it will do until she's allowed to return to her home.

button-masher.livejournal.com

The door slams open and in storms a muttering Tycho Brahe, holding a fondue pot with Megatron's face on it.

He angrily sits at a table and angrily eats some chocolate fondue.

ANGRILY! GAR!

explorertruman.livejournal.com

There's an ex-reality star in the bar. Yeeep, right over there by the Observation Window.
He was trying to speak to the wait-rats in the Speech like Gavroche showed him. He was saying the words right, but something didn't really mesh. Huh... well, figured he wasn't cut out for magic anyway.

He decided to think about other stuff instead, and read some more from one of his books on exploration.

bloodyrockgod

Well, here's a face you might know--doing something you've probably seen him do many times before, as well.

No, not that--the other thing, with the piano.

( No, he can't quite do the falsetto, but it sounds pretty good anyway. )

He slows the song down a bit but sings it happily. Married life? Lovely, thanks, as the song may attest.

imperfecthero01.livejournal.com

[OOM: When a mission isn't going as planned, clearly the only logical thing to do is for two agents to tear each other apart with words. Millitimed to last night.]

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco and nobody sittin' inna tree.

T H I N K I N G

Ok...well it wasn't like that. But he was thinking of someone and a recent conversation. It went well...somewhat, if very confusing. And neither of them was entirely sure of the result.

Also that new potion of his was on his mind. Needed to test the effects somehow. But right now the only one he had available was himself. And that was dangerous. He might need to make an antidote for it if the effects didn't wear off. Or if they were too poisonous. Drug materials were so ticklish for potions he was finding.

not-one-drop.livejournal.com

Mal's in the bar.

Oh, it's been a few days since she felt like venturing out of her room, but she's here now. Sitting on a barstool, trying to decide what she should order. Tonight is a night for drinking and talking.

Anticipation.

[ooc: We've done this before. Post here, check before tagging, shut door on your way out. Everything good? Good.]

mistressmaryquitecontrary

Mary Lennox is sitting on a stool in the bar, with a milkshake at her elbow.

Her thin face is set in a small frown, as she turns pages in her copy of Le Morte D'Arthur. Some of the archaic words are a little perplexing - not that she'd ever admit it.

the_antiangst

Angel's on a couch, folding laundry.
He's been a popular one for notes lately, and as a result of one, he's keeping a particular eye out for Mark. And Sara, due to one of the crossouts.
Other company would not be turned away.

e_delmar

It happens, now and then, that Ennis slips back from Shadow. Not often, but it does. He doesn't make no fuss over himself, just sets down in a corner with a drink and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

[ooc: not quite plot-locked, but ping before tagging, thanks!]

silvia-broome.livejournal.com

Silvia is still in the bar. During her time here she has gathered a collection of newspapers from the 20th of July, 2006, all of them in different languages; she has also procured her reading glasses and a Hebrew-English dictionary that she is using to read another newspaper.

Current Mood: curious

tragic_mask

Melpomene sits at a table more-or-less in the very center of the bar. Her dark eyes flit across the room; hands slung easily over the back of the wooden chair she occupies.

She moves to tap out her cigarette then puts it between her lips again-- but otherwise, she is completely still.

[ooc: ping me before tagging. kthx.]

blue_ajah

She comes in through the lake door and settles into a corner booth, accepting the tea that Holly brings her.

It is not a particular surprise to see Moiraine appearing calm, and it would take someone who knows her extremely well to discern that she might be almost unusually quiet. She leaves one hand curled around her teacup, as if to draw in the warmth. With the other, she flips through her leatherbound journal, occasionally pausing to read a passage or two with a slight frown.

It is almost as though she is trying to remind herself of something.

yuppie-trash.livejournal.com

Door opens. The rain-slicked, broken glass cityscape of New York behind him. A lingering smell follows foul at his heels. A draft of humid summer as the door is closed. Now black suede, vanilla, cigar smoke.
I thought of Saint Francis and his sparrows
It was St. Sebastian I thought of, and his arrows
Lazy, sinuous movement. Sheathed in black Ermenegildo Zegna pinstripes, a violently pink Forzieri silk tie neatly set in a Double Windsor knot. Black Burberry raincoat, black Isotoner leather gloves. Moving with a performer's zeal which assumes an audience when none is present.
I thought about St. Augustine and his confessions
It was Saint Thomas Aquinas' philosophical obsessions
His stride is long and unhurried, leans against the bar while ordering. Because sitting would only ruin the continuous line, disturb the perfection.

Current Music: Nick Cave: O'Malley's Bar

coming-west.livejournal.com

Cally had been leaving her room at the embassy to search for better lighting to do her mending when she found herself in Milliways.

So now she is now sitting at a table with good lighting, threading her needle and starting to sew two buttons back on to a dress shirt. There is a skirt and another shirt lying across a corner of the table, also waiting for attention. She glances around the bar as she begins to sew.

necessary_child

[OOM: Sam takes Matilda to visit his brother Buddha's library in Thailand. It doesn't go as well as planned.]

A battered, slightly burned young man and headachy small girl arrive in the bar. Their door, before it closes, shows a smokey, mess-filled Bangkok bookshop.

Matilda immediately heads to Bar for hot chocolate and aspirin, then goes to bed. Sam orders a large Atlantean and collapses quietly in a booth. His sword is still drawn, and stained with strangely-orange blood.

(OOC: OK, guys, you've got an hour maximum to catch Sam before he goes OOM for a fortnight as the mun heads off to France on holiday. Say sorry!)

About an hour later, Sam gets up and runs to his door, using his connection to the wards on his flat- wards which are now shrieking in his head- to get his door to open on London instead of Bangkok. Guppy, whom he'd been eating with in a thoroughly hand-wavey thread that may become un-handwavey once the muns are both back, follows him when he stops and just- stares at the ruins of his flat. After a short argument ('no, you can't follow me', 'no, I want to help clean up'), Sam steps cautiously through and Guppy follows.

Guppy will return ten minutes later; Sam- will not.

tibetanmethod

[Out of Milliways, and into Twin Peaks: Dale Cooper isn't above a little minor subterfuge. And neither is Audrey Horne.]

Cooper sticks his head into the bar, and follows it. There's a copy of the Twin Peaks Gazette under his arm.

When he settles at the bar and unfolds it, the lead story is about a -- get this -- campaign rally. For Jerry Horne. In the sheriff's campaign.

Apparently Jerry Horne is making campaign promises. One of them -- so the headline screams -- is A FISH IN EVERY PERCOLATOR.

Something that Special Agent Dale Cooper, FBI, is wondering --

How in god's name is an abomination like that an incentive to vote for Jerry Horne?

gone_byebye

Ray slept for most of the day, back up in his room where it was nice and quiet for once. He's back in the Bar now, awake and cheerful, although he does seem to be favoring his left shoulder some.

He's using the holocomputer to play Tetris, though he'd be more than happy to talk if approached.

the_lioness

It's not every day Alanna walks in the bar and sees Roger. She still hasn't completely recovered from their earlier conversation. Seated at the bar, she clutches her glass, ignores her dinner and watches the patrons with wide eyes. Hopefully no one minds the staring.

badinlatin

[OOC: Mal brings back fun food for dinner, probably to bribe people to play nice while he announces something. Later on, Mal and Kaylee share lollipops, normal tangerines and motivations.

Here we go.]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

There were some long discussions with Annie today, both upstairs and outside, and a couple of things got decided. None of them matter very much at the moment- they're long-term things, mostly. Once Wells goes home, that's when they'll start coming up. For now, he's got a seat over by the fire and some tea, and a fair bit of thinking to do.

(Although really, given his marked lack of philosophical nature or general pensiveness, it looks more like he's trying to remember whether or not he left the kettle on.)

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

there is a red headed witch at a table reading a magazine she got from a muggle in London. she leans her head to the side reading it. just trying to understand what it all meant. she's free and willing to talk to any one.. she'll buy you a drink if you feel like a chat

goinghost.livejournal.com

OOM Numbah One: The ghost problem in Amity Park is mindblowingly bad, the Shandor building is setting off Danny's ghost sense worse than ever, and Danny needs some answers. A quick visit to Clockwork reveals no answers--only a prod to ask different people the questions. Sam, realizing that Danny is going to get himself killed if he keeps fighting while exhausted, urges Tucker and Danny into a mini-Milli-vacation. Tucker wanders off on his own, leaving Danny and Sam to more R-ish-rated Teenage Shenanigans.

(Contains an OOM in an OOM, a finally-finished GB-DP teamup!)

OOM the Second: Bathroom bubble Bath fluff! Rated N for Naked, but not so much with the naughty.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

OOM: In Wales:

Angela and Melehan's girlfriend, Sulwyn, have Girl Talk.

Melou teaches Angela to ride a horse, followed by swimming!

Angela meets Briallen. It goes about as well as one could expect.

e_delmar

It's a while after Junior leaves that Ennis sits, watching the door. It's much later when he (slowly) makes his way to the bar and, asking for a pen and paper, scratches out a note.

( For Caspien, Sallie and hooever )

And soon's that's done, he's out the door.