Jul. 27th, 2006

[identity profile] faithful-slayer.livejournal.com
Oh look, it's Faith, in ceremonial garb again, heading for the bar for coffee.

Possibly whiskey as well.

Say hi if you like.
[identity profile] missginnytonic.livejournal.com
Ginny's sitting at a table reading over some scrolls of notes she's taken.. trying to hone her skills more she would welcome an interruption from anyone
[identity profile] gwion-bach.livejournal.com
[OOM: Outside Time. It is only to some people that the gramophone is an outdated device.

Inasmuch as Time has meaning, of course.]
[identity profile] pointed-spoon.livejournal.com
His face is as white as
the snow that blows through the open window of his cell
his knuckles where they
sink deep, baring bone, pulling flesh away, tearing
clutch the edge his robes.
The screaming echoes.

Dworkin is out by the lake, sitting on the bank in his nightshirt, lost in a memory. It might be dangerous kindest to stir him.
[identity profile] henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com
[OOM. Mike fills Indy in on Raph's mysterious disappearance. With Indy's help, a worried brother starts to organize his thoughts a bit and make a few tentative plans. This is not the cracky Naked Thursday thread you're looking for, though Indy does manage to miraculously cook breakfast without burning the suite down. Millitimed to Thursday morning.]
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[personal profile] gravity_shifter
Sikozu. Table. Tons of food.

Is this just an excuse to give her an entrance? Possibly, but a girl has to eat.
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[personal profile] called_lioness
At some point this morning, a note is left for Alanna at the bar.
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[personal profile] balletrat
*Meg's sitting at a booth in the bar, with two empty cups of coffee by her elbow - two being the easiest number to conveniently carry - and a piece of paper in front of her covered in French writing.

Unusually, this particular piece of paper actually looks somewhat organized.

(The spelling, however, is open to a good deal of interpretation.)*
[identity profile] not-one-drop.livejournal.com
It's silence, today, silence and shadows. A darkened booth in the back of the room, white fangs and pale skin. 

Amaranta

Vampire.

[ooc: Once upon a time, I put a post up inna back room. And people read it before tagging. And it was good. Any questions, I'm sociologychild on AIM. Danke!]
[identity profile] prince-luna.livejournal.com
There's a vampire sitting over by the fireplace reading a book. A glass of what looks like red wine is sitting on the table beside him... its not. It's blood. Interrupting him and his book... he won't bite. Nor will he truly mind. He's read the thing over a million times if not more.
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[personal profile] gone_byebye
Ray makes his way in via the front door, rubbing at his right arm a moment before heading to the Bar. He comes away with lunch- something reasonably healthy this time, as Bar seems to have decided he needs it- and a glass of the green stuff. It's mostly ignored when he sits down, though. He's got a pad and a pencil- actual paper and actual wood and actual graphite, not any of his computer stuff. Either he's jotting down his thoughts in an excessively elaborate code, or he's doodling with a specialisation in very small triangles.
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_pale_ghost_/
"Dixie tastes sweeter when it's secondhand." Ghost says in his sleep.

Eyes shuttered, pale lashes spiderweb lacy against a pale cheek. Laying supine across one couch. One arm hanging down, fingers touching the floor. The other curled up, chin against forearm.
[identity profile] wellthrownstone.livejournal.com
The door opens, showing a rather rough wooden portal that might better belong to a ship than a castle on the other side as the Rivan King pulls his hand away. He shifts the bag over his shoulder and turns around half way in the doorway.

"Ce'Nedra? Ce'Nedra, it worked..."

And then he turns to the bar and takes a step or two in before plopping a rather large bag onto the ground and holding his hand out through the door.

She moves as gracefully as ever and the heavy weight of sadness that had plagued her so long is lifted from her. Another weight has replaced it, a rather physical one, and he stares at the bar in great interest before clinging to his mother with his arms around her neck. Garion watches and he smiles before reaching over and patting Geran on the head with one hand.

A little wolf, not a dog but a wolf, scampers through betwee Ce'Nedra's legs, nose twitching and eyes moving to take in the new space before turning back and looking to Garion. There's a moment of communication before Garion lets out a soft chuckle and shrugs. Then the wolf pads in.

...welcome back to Milliways.

"Chocolate shake, dear?"

Ce'Nedra smiles serenely.

"Yes, and some smoked mackarel as well, if you don't mind."

He looks sideways at his wife for a moment before shaking his head and the assembled royal family make their way to a booth while Garion heads for the bar.

[ooc: tag and get one or both;specify if you like]
[identity profile] not-one-drop.livejournal.com
[Millitimed to...um, tonight, actually, Mal catches up with Sands. Warnings for violence.

And they are both promptly removed to the cells.]
[identity profile] doc-lecter.livejournal.com
Hannibal Lecter walks into the bar from a long absence, sleek and dapper as a cat, or as another person put it once, a cemetary mink.

Naturally he carries himself with an extreme sense of self-worth and assurance. He pauses by the barside to order a glass of wine and receive it with murmured thanks before continuing on to the piano. He sits down and begins to play his personal favorite.
[identity profile] always-a-liar.livejournal.com
Out of Milliways:

The Forsaken and their minions gather at a party hosted by the decadent and flamboyant Graendal for a night of dancing and plotting amongst the elite servants of the Shadow. Of course, nothing ever quite goes as planned. Ishamael always sees to that.

One Enchanted Evening


[OOC: Each thread leads to the next via linkage. Warnings for evil, intrigue, language, and mild sexual content apply. A big thanks goes out to the other three Forsaken-muns: Amy, Rachel (Kim Bauer-mun), and Veronica (Behrooz-mun.) Sit back and enjoy. Notably, you do not have to have read the lead-up to follow this.]
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[personal profile] lvpd_sidle
Sara.

Laptop.

Coffee.

Bored.

Bother?
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[personal profile] capt_angie

Angelina pushes open the door to the bar and steps into the room. On such a hot day, a lot of clothing is not a good idea which would be why she's wearing a bikini and a pair of shorts with flip-flops, and has her hair pulled up in a high pony tail to keep it off her neck. 

Angie looks around and smiles a little. It's been a while since she was last here and it's good to be back. She goes to the bar and perches on a stool before ordering a large lemonade. She takes her wand out of a pocket and points it at her face and a jet of cool air comes from the tip. It's good to be a witch.

[identity profile] nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com
This is an Ace. In a suit. A dress-suit, even.

The image professionalism is somewhat shattered thanks to the complete lack of shoes and the massive runs in both stockings and the fact her hair can aptly be described as 'windblown', but she doesn't much seem to care. She has a Brown Cow from Hell to drink, and a nice comfy couch in front of the fire to laze about on, and has been on a nice long run after scaring the living daylights out of an utter bastard.

Life is good.
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[personal profile] dragon_twin
Melou is not surprised to find himself in the bar so soon again. He's long since given up trying to find any pattern. He also knows the time in the bar and in his world don't always coincide, so who knows how long it's been here?

He grabs himself a drink and then settles on a couch, scanning the bar for a few specific people. Whether it's to avoid them or not has has yet to be decided.
[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
[OOM: Blackmail in Whitehall.

After everything that happened at the Island of Gratuitous Mayhem, and the time spent recovering from that mission, Sergeant Wells finally got to work on the whole reason for that trip: blackmailing his government into calling off the werewolf program and shutting down Gruinard Island's research. He contacted Mr. Universe about putting his information into the hands of the news media- and maybe some other people- should anything happen to him or his family. Svava, on the other hand, offered to help Wells put some of that information right back into Government hands. Nothing says 'I can expose you' quite like a message that appears in the middle of one's most guarded territory, after all.

Ace offered to lend a hand in an unexpected way. So did Arithon. Then Mr. Universe finished his work, and Svava delivered Harry's initial letter, and it was received at the Ministry of Defence- which led, inexorably, to gathering his forces...

And to the Ministry of Defence, to a few judicious acts of outright blackmail, and to an evil little bastard covering their exit.

Huzzah.]
[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
Wells comes down the stairs in a painfully neat civilian suit, charcoal grey with no hint whatsoever of the unusual about it. As is normal for suits, this one has induced a distinctly sour mood in Wells, but he does his best to keep that ramped down. There's a purpose to it, just the same as there's a purpose to the briefcase full of documents that he's carrying.

He takes up a seat with a good view of most of the rest of the bar and waits. There are people he needs to talk to.

[OOC: Primarily for a plot, but not locked per se.]
[identity profile] qsilver-lab-rat.livejournal.com
Darien.

Inna bar.

Witha beer.

[ooc: be kind; mun's keyboard was doused in orange juice and it's quite sticky; expect slow and typos]
[identity profile] ironside-pixie.livejournal.com
You know what's fun? Pranks. Mean things. Very amusing.

Except...Kaye isn't playing a prank. In fact, she's stretched out on one of the couches. Her eyes are closed, head tilted back and her tangled hair blankets out over the sofa's arm. It's possible she's sleeping. Willing to take your chances? Or maybe it's time to get revenge.

[EDIT: I'm sort of tired now (STUPID WORK) so only tag if you don't mind possible slowtime]
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[personal profile] prettymaids

Sitting underneath the observation window is a solitary figure sipping a glass of orange juice and nibbling a salad. Sitting on the table in front of her is a doll. The dolls name is Miss Edith and the young woman with whom she is sitting is Drusilla, ex-vampire, current Delicate Flower and crazy seer. 

Dru's gaze is turned on the destruction of the universe and she is whispering to Miss Edith.

"Can you hear them, my sweet? Singing in such sweet voices... they sound like church bells..."

[identity profile] milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com
[OOM: From here.]

The door opens to somewhere grassy and open, possibly a park, possibly just a football field. It'll close in a minute, of course. Right now it's just doing what doors always do: letting people in. "There now, Ace," calls Wells over his shoulder. "Told you we'd be back in time for supper."

He's looking more at ease than he's ever done since he first came here.
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[personal profile] blue_eyed_lord
Here is one who has not shown his face for some time. He has been around, certainly- he has no where else to go. He merely has not been in the bar room itself much.

Tonight, he is here. Very definitely here. A dark presence in one of the high-backed chairs near the fire. He has a glass of dark red wine and a book with no title on the cover. It is always useful to be doing something innocuous when one's thoughts are busy with other business.
[identity profile] singlesoledjest.livejournal.com
Mercutio inna bar.

Sometimes, you just have to go old school, you know? He's lying in front of the fire, half-asleep.
[identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
It’s been a while since Sands was around. By the looks of things, he doesn’t much want to be around anyhow.

He’s found himself a relatively secluded booth- having sat first at the bar, at a table, and paced back and forth for a few agitated minutes- and though his eyes are closed he’s very much awake.

Alert, even. With one hand in his pocket.

[ooc: Mun is knackered and off to bed. Any tags will be replied to in the morning.]
[identity profile] sansa-stark.livejournal.com
Sansa Stark is in the bar, having a nighttime snack of lemoncakes and milk. A book on Greek mythology is in one hand - but she's just as interested in taking in the bar as she is in reading it. Any particularly strange-looking folk will keep her attention longer than they otherwise would.

Come say hello!