Aug. 18th, 2006
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 12:56 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/A rather guilty expression on his face, Jack slips into the bar and makes straight for a booth in the corner, where he can see out to find people.
Where it's quiet enough that he can still think.
Where it's quiet enough that he can still think.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 01:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelley_winters[OOM: Millitimed to Tuesday the 15th. As she promised, Shelley goes to see Moiraine to give her a certain explanation, and Michael goes along to defend her if necessary, hear said explanation, and make sure she doesn't just bolt for it.
It goes...
Well. At least nobody died?]
It goes...
Well. At least nobody died?]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 03:04 amjanetsdaughter.livejournal.com[OOM: Breakage Tastes Better Over A Picnic! - Billy And Cassie go on a picnic in the trees, Cassie breaks, Billy comforts, Life is Grand.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 03:56 ammiddle-name-s.livejournal.com[Out of Milliways and Into Twin Peaks:
When a body turns up, things are set in motion. A confrontation, a departure, a confession...
And another shooting.]
When a body turns up, things are set in motion. A confrontation, a departure, a confession...
And another shooting.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 08:23 ammagius-unlocked.livejournal.comMagius is wandering through the bar, pacing slowly. His mind is on much lately. One those missing, and those he cares about, and on that which be both can and can't do anything about.
It has been a frustrating month or five for the metamage.
He carries his glass of red wine as he walks, nodding to various patrons.
He is, as ever, botherable.
It has been a frustrating month or five for the metamage.
He carries his glass of red wine as he walks, nodding to various patrons.
He is, as ever, botherable.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 08:31 aminquisitiveheroSometimes, moments are what changes everything. Sometimes, upon a single moment hinges the entire fate of a people.
Sometimes, Fate has a real sense of humor... or Destiny... one someone.
Because on one of those moments, somewhere, Hank McCoy stumbles, and starts to fall.
And hits the ground, not where he was, but in the bar.
With no door.
There is much cursing in Shi'ar, Badoon, Mojon, and a few other languages, as the black costumed X-Man stares at the blank wall.
Today has really not been a good day for Hank McCoy and it doesn't look like it has gotten any better.
(ooc: Note: Possible spoilers for the ongoing Civil War storyline in threads. You have been warned.)
Sometimes, Fate has a real sense of humor... or Destiny... one someone.
Because on one of those moments, somewhere, Hank McCoy stumbles, and starts to fall.
And hits the ground, not where he was, but in the bar.
With no door.
There is much cursing in Shi'ar, Badoon, Mojon, and a few other languages, as the black costumed X-Man stares at the blank wall.
Today has really not been a good day for Hank McCoy and it doesn't look like it has gotten any better.
(ooc: Note: Possible spoilers for the ongoing Civil War storyline in threads. You have been warned.)
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 01:08 pmalways-a-liar.livejournal.comOut of Milliways:
Inludet
(Which is Latin for Ishamael and Shelley playing headgames)
[OOC: Warning for creepiness, mild sexual content, and all the things the readers usually associate with this pairing.]
Inludet
(Which is Latin for Ishamael and Shelley playing headgames)
[OOC: Warning for creepiness, mild sexual content, and all the things the readers usually associate with this pairing.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 01:36 pmwithamagicword[OOM: Thoughts, Feelings, and Revelations: After Billy and Cassie's picnic, Billy and Cassie both think on the events going on and have their own revelations. There is a great deal of similarity there. Millitimed to last night.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 01:53 pmnot-one-drop.livejournal.comMal's in the bar, at a table that's stratigically placed near to the door to the office. There's a bottle of tequila on the table, along with two glasses and an unopened pack of cigarettes.
She's flicking the lighter in her fingers, tossing it up, and catching it again. Waiting.
She wouldn't mind conversation in the meantime.
She's flicking the lighter in her fingers, tossing it up, and catching it again. Waiting.
She wouldn't mind conversation in the meantime.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 02:52 pmsong-of-stars.livejournal.com*Rai pops through one of the observation windows and pads barefoot over to the bar. She picks up a pitcher of lemonade and a glass and takes them over to a booth where she sits down and opens a large, heavy, very old book that seems to be written in Latin*
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 03:54 pmgotham-knocking.livejournal.comKnox enters after another long day. He's almost convinced his boss to let him fly to Florida, and see if the mobsters are really heading that way. He just needs evidence of the meeting, that's all.
He gets a beer and sits at a table to think.
[ooc: online for an hour, and then slowtime]
He gets a beer and sits at a table to think.
[ooc: online for an hour, and then slowtime]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 04:24 pmpolitestpirate.livejournal.comSomeone is back from various adventures, it seems. And what do you do when you have been around the world (and back again), with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, pirating East India Company ships?
Well, after writing down everything that happened in a blank journal you get from the bar, you go back to work on your own ship. She may not be the fastest, but, somehow-
The ship will fly.
Thus, that is where Wellard is- outside, out by the area he has set up for a small ship yard. Final measurements are being marked, and the young (former) british officer is still rather nervous, even with the idea of 'measure twice, cut once'.
[OOC: mun must get to bed, for a 3am wake up call. Slowtimes will be picked up on the morrow.]
Well, after writing down everything that happened in a blank journal you get from the bar, you go back to work on your own ship. She may not be the fastest, but, somehow-
The ship will fly.
Thus, that is where Wellard is- outside, out by the area he has set up for a small ship yard. Final measurements are being marked, and the young (former) british officer is still rather nervous, even with the idea of 'measure twice, cut once'.
[OOC: mun must get to bed, for a 3am wake up call. Slowtimes will be picked up on the morrow.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 05:51 pmucav-tinman.livejournal.comLong legs made fast work of stairs, and that suited Eddie just fine. He was humming to himself, holding his old favourite gadget in his hands. It'd been Orbit's - the man he now called his dad - but he'd been gifted it, as Keith was too busy running a business to have too much fun with it. The object in question was a Nintendo DS, and Eddie was quite absorbed in it as he made his way over to the bar.
Maybe he bumped into someone chair on the way, what with the loud MarioKart music he had going on.
Maybe he bumped into someone chair on the way, what with the loud MarioKart music he had going on.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 07:00 pmfighting_mad[OOM: There's an old superstition that it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding (Plourr doesn't believe in it; Rial might). Still, though, surprisingly enough, everything goes off without a hitch.]
There is a princess bride sitting at the bar. How to tell she's a princess bride? She wears an unmistakable simple silver circlet settled on her head, and, well, there is a dress. It is strapless and cream-colored, the bodice fitted and voluminous skirts (which entirely hide the barstool and take up the general area around her) cascading into a long train. Intricate patterns of antiqued gold encircle the waist and crawl up the hems.
Of course, her arms are very muscled, her hair is cropped close to her head, and she has a bottle of beer in hand (that she is drinking fairly steadily from), but Plourr has never been big on the whole 'be a lady' thing, and hey. She's wearing makeup. She earned at least one beer.
There is a princess bride sitting at the bar. How to tell she's a princess bride? She wears an unmistakable simple silver circlet settled on her head, and, well, there is a dress. It is strapless and cream-colored, the bodice fitted and voluminous skirts (which entirely hide the barstool and take up the general area around her) cascading into a long train. Intricate patterns of antiqued gold encircle the waist and crawl up the hems.
Of course, her arms are very muscled, her hair is cropped close to her head, and she has a bottle of beer in hand (that she is drinking fairly steadily from), but Plourr has never been big on the whole 'be a lady' thing, and hey. She's wearing makeup. She earned at least one beer.
Out by the lake, after the Mage Battle...
Aug. 18th, 2006 07:04 pmwalker-cain.livejournal.comCain Comes outside, and stares, shocked.
The battle is obviously over, but the landscape of the back area has been changed, devastated. He stares out and around at what he sees. Fire and lightning scars dot the landscape, and bones, as well as broken and torn up trees are everywhere. It looks... like a war zone, a place turned mad by darkness, or a piece of hell suddenly translated there.
He can see that lines were drawn, and that there were pitched battles scattered, and he shakes his head at how fast and how utterly the landscape has changed.
"Damn it! This is my home! It was supposed to be safe!"
The words are flung upwards, rage, and fear, and a sense of loss infusing them. Anger grows in him, and, as he stares around, his eyes narrow.
"Never again, damn you. Never again."
His hands, all of their own load the ready the guns and his stance changes as his mind goes over a hundred thousand battles and wars. He nods. War has come to Milliways, and he will be damned if he will se this home destroyed as so many others have been.
He looks around to see if others are out here, and also, to begin what must be done.
The battle is obviously over, but the landscape of the back area has been changed, devastated. He stares out and around at what he sees. Fire and lightning scars dot the landscape, and bones, as well as broken and torn up trees are everywhere. It looks... like a war zone, a place turned mad by darkness, or a piece of hell suddenly translated there.
He can see that lines were drawn, and that there were pitched battles scattered, and he shakes his head at how fast and how utterly the landscape has changed.
"Damn it! This is my home! It was supposed to be safe!"
The words are flung upwards, rage, and fear, and a sense of loss infusing them. Anger grows in him, and, as he stares around, his eyes narrow.
"Never again, damn you. Never again."
His hands, all of their own load the ready the guns and his stance changes as his mind goes over a hundred thousand battles and wars. He nods. War has come to Milliways, and he will be damned if he will se this home destroyed as so many others have been.
He looks around to see if others are out here, and also, to begin what must be done.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 07:16 pmalways-a-liar.livejournal.comOut of Milliways:
Exeunt
(Which is Latin for Shelley Winters is in deep, deep shit.)
[OOC: Warning for violence, and mild gore.]
Exeunt
(Which is Latin for Shelley Winters is in deep, deep shit.)
[OOC: Warning for violence, and mild gore.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 08:31 pmurzaplaneswalkr.livejournal.com[Millitimed to early evening.]
Everything is still behind Milliways in the early evening twilight. Urza walks among the trees (forest), skirts the edge of the muck by the shaded shore of the lake (swamp), crosses the wide open spaces in between (plains), and crouches on a rock, looking out across the water to the small outgrowth of reeds and other water plants (island). Only the lack of formless mountains in the distance keeps this from being a perfect sanctuary.
Even so, it is an idyllic place to rest, recover strength, and Urza has been taking the time to do just that. He relaxes out here for some time, then, with a contented sigh, he makes his way toward the back door of the bar itself, thinking that dinner would be an excellent idea.
Sadly, designating a place as sanctuary almost demands that it be violated. This place, even removed from time and space, seems to be no different.
No sooner has Urza opened the door than he feels the opening of a portal between the worlds. It is an oily sensation in his mind, as if oozing mana in great noxious blobs. He knows without turning what he will see waiting for him.
"Th'tksik," he says sadly, turning to face the insectoid wizard. The adversary was nothing so much as a 7-foot tall walking mantis covered in metallic spines and armor plating fused to its carapace.
"Urzzzza," the wizard hisses through its mechanical voicebox. "How niccce to ssssee you." It raises a forelimb, nothing more. But it is enough.
The planeswalker catches the lightning bolt full in the chest and is thrown backward through the door, crashing heavily into a table. If not for his wards (and his paranoia for keeping them up), that single blast could have ended him. Urza staggers to his feet, ignoring the scorch mark on his chest, and stalks through the open door to face the wizard.
Everything is still behind Milliways in the early evening twilight. Urza walks among the trees (forest), skirts the edge of the muck by the shaded shore of the lake (swamp), crosses the wide open spaces in between (plains), and crouches on a rock, looking out across the water to the small outgrowth of reeds and other water plants (island). Only the lack of formless mountains in the distance keeps this from being a perfect sanctuary.
Even so, it is an idyllic place to rest, recover strength, and Urza has been taking the time to do just that. He relaxes out here for some time, then, with a contented sigh, he makes his way toward the back door of the bar itself, thinking that dinner would be an excellent idea.
Sadly, designating a place as sanctuary almost demands that it be violated. This place, even removed from time and space, seems to be no different.
No sooner has Urza opened the door than he feels the opening of a portal between the worlds. It is an oily sensation in his mind, as if oozing mana in great noxious blobs. He knows without turning what he will see waiting for him.
"Th'tksik," he says sadly, turning to face the insectoid wizard. The adversary was nothing so much as a 7-foot tall walking mantis covered in metallic spines and armor plating fused to its carapace.
"Urzzzza," the wizard hisses through its mechanical voicebox. "How niccce to ssssee you." It raises a forelimb, nothing more. But it is enough.
The planeswalker catches the lightning bolt full in the chest and is thrown backward through the door, crashing heavily into a table. If not for his wards (and his paranoia for keeping them up), that single blast could have ended him. Urza staggers to his feet, ignoring the scorch mark on his chest, and stalks through the open door to face the wizard.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 08:50 pmmagius-unlocked.livejournal.comMagius limps into the bar from the back door, bruised and more tired than he has been in a very long time.
He finds a booth and then collapses there, a wait rat bringing food and wine without even asking. He hazards a smile and nods to the rat, handing over some coins and sips his wine, eyes closed.
"Dear Gods..."
He finds a booth and then collapses there, a wait rat bringing food and wine without even asking. He hazards a smile and nods to the rat, handing over some coins and sips his wine, eyes closed.
"Dear Gods..."
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 08:52 pmsanguimmuno.livejournal.comFor the second time in so many weeks, Salazar Slytherin finds himself back in the bar. And, Lo and Behold, able to use that voice of his to order some hard liquour and meat from a wait rat.
Nobody here is going to tell Salazar Slytherin to continue his steady diet of tea and wheat products, right?
Nobody here is going to tell Salazar Slytherin to continue his steady diet of tea and wheat products, right?
Scroll buttons on the house.
Aug. 18th, 2006 08:59 pmforgoodorforawesome*Jeez, when was the last time there was a Strong Bad inna bar? There's one here now, anyways. He walks up to the bar and orders his usual cold one and Swiss cake roll. The cold one is CUH-HOLD, the way he likes 'em, but the cake roll has a candle in it, which ain't usual. (Also, the candle doesn't say 50; it just says 2. Strong Bad counts on where his fingers would be for a moment, then bolts upright, surprised.* Jeez, two years already? Which way does the freakin' time go? *Then he blows out the candle, and something indefinable changes.*
"In honor of my second Milliversary," he announces, "all cold ones are on me for the rest of the night. Just let people know who they have to thank, if you would, my good Bar?" Then he extracts the candle and starts with the eating and drinking.
Come share in his bounty, and thank him for it if you're so inclined.
"In honor of my second Milliversary," he announces, "all cold ones are on me for the rest of the night. Just let people know who they have to thank, if you would, my good Bar?" Then he extracts the candle and starts with the eating and drinking.
Come share in his bounty, and thank him for it if you're so inclined.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:04 pmclockarmageddon.livejournal.comWhere there was once nothing is now something.
Something very large.
Something very ominous.
Beside the back door is a tall, imposing clock. Oversized Roman numerals circle the clock face. The oddness about the clock, other than its presence, is that there is no second hand. Its one hand is positioned over the number one, and its pendulum clicks quietly away in its heart.
Shortly after its appearance, there is a small, faint physical tremor through the bar. Only the most sensitive individuals will feel it, and even then, will they know what it is?
The clock stands beside the door, ticking slowly, mindless to anything around it, and counts down.
[OOC: See this post here in the backroom before tagging please!]
Something very large.
Something very ominous.
Beside the back door is a tall, imposing clock. Oversized Roman numerals circle the clock face. The oddness about the clock, other than its presence, is that there is no second hand. Its one hand is positioned over the number one, and its pendulum clicks quietly away in its heart.
Shortly after its appearance, there is a small, faint physical tremor through the bar. Only the most sensitive individuals will feel it, and even then, will they know what it is?
The clock stands beside the door, ticking slowly, mindless to anything around it, and counts down.
[OOC: See this post here in the backroom before tagging please!]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:05 pmguppy_sandhuGuppy is sitting by the infirmary, with a large box of emergency equipment. Mainly the sort of things used in an major incident.
Having totted up the number of rubber gloves, bandages, and fluorescent bibs with 'Doctor' or 'Healer' on, he is now proceeding to check all of the little torches have batteries in.
Because really, they wouldn't be a lot of use otherwise now would they?
Come bother him, he's only keeping himself occupied.
Having totted up the number of rubber gloves, bandages, and fluorescent bibs with 'Doctor' or 'Healer' on, he is now proceeding to check all of the little torches have batteries in.
Because really, they wouldn't be a lot of use otherwise now would they?
Come bother him, he's only keeping himself occupied.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:07 pmyuppie-trash.livejournal.com[Out of Milliways: Back in New York, Patrick Bateman with Courtney. Warnings for adult content and violence.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:14 pmshuftiShufti and Jack are sitting by the fire, having a bedtime story.
Jack, who is starting to get just a little bit of blonde hair, is starting to go back to fluffy rather than bald.
Jack, who is starting to get just a little bit of blonde hair, is starting to go back to fluffy rather than bald.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:16 pmmogget_catThe problem with lying down so one is comfortable while writing notes to leave for friends is that one can get too comfortable. That's probably what happened to Yrael, stretched out on the couch, asleep. A small pad of paper, a pen and a small pile of already finished notes, folded in two and bearing names like Svava, Archie, Edielweiss and Lærke, and Jason, and Khemrys, and Rachel, and Elizabeth, and Shalla, lie above his head on the couch cushion.
Someone wake the sleeping not'cat and get him to finish his notes.
Someone wake the sleeping not'cat and get him to finish his notes.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:18 pmgonna_live[Out of Milliways:
Wednesday the crew landed at a settlement called Olympia. Yesterday and today (and through tomorrow morning), Kaylee's been in bed.]
Wednesday the crew landed at a settlement called Olympia. Yesterday and today (and through tomorrow morning), Kaylee's been in bed.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:22 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/Despite a complete inability to skip stones, Jack is valiantly trying to do so, standing barefoot in the grass out by the lake.
A thin frost coating the ground making the blades of grass around him slippery, to walk on, so do be careful.
A thin frost coating the ground making the blades of grass around him slippery, to walk on, so do be careful.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:38 pmyoung_tmriddleTom walks back in from the lakeside, clearly rattled.
He would very much like a scotch now.
And since he's been here more than a moment, he might as well stay a little longer.
He would very much like a scotch now.
And since he's been here more than a moment, he might as well stay a little longer.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:45 pmmiddle-name-s.livejournal.com[Out of Milliways, and Into Twin Peaks:
Ben's busy day is followed by a difficult one for everyone else.]
Ben's busy day is followed by a difficult one for everyone else.]
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:57 pmstopped-signal.livejournal.comMr. Universe is in the bar, somewhere near the door, bent over his laptop as usual.
He does occasionally glance up, usually to look for a waitrat and order more soda.
He does occasionally glance up, usually to look for a waitrat and order more soda.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 09:58 pm1morewfeeling.livejournal.comDo you hear . . . tapdancing?
come drink with the vegas stars tonight
No, actually, you don't--Sweet is just having a drink at the bar.
we'll find you terror in your eyes
yeah we'll find you and take you home tonight
No, really. That's all.
come drink with the vegas stars tonight
No, actually, you don't--Sweet is just having a drink at the bar.
we'll find you terror in your eyes
yeah we'll find you and take you home tonight
No, really. That's all.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 10:03 pmcapt_angieAngelina has something on her mind. She is sitting by the observation window with a Butterbeer and a pumpkin pasty. She has a open book on the table but she's not really reading it. She keeps reading the same passage over and over again. The pasty is mostly untouched as well. She could use some conversation.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 10:14 pmsong_tra_bongMary Anne is down in the bar, sitting at a table with a good view of both doors. She's slowly nursing a glass of tequila, but she's not looking to get wasted tonight.
She's armed, but not terribly dangerous--even if she would like to take a hammer to that clock for reasons she doesn't understand. Damn thing gives her the creeps.
She's armed, but not terribly dangerous--even if she would like to take a hammer to that clock for reasons she doesn't understand. Damn thing gives her the creeps.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 10:24 pmrigthegames.livejournal.comIt’s been a while.
It’s been three weeks, in fact, and Sands isn’t quite grinning as he emerges from the office, but it’s a close thing.
After a moment of revelling in the fact that he isn’t stuck in a cell any more, he heads over to Bar. Tequila is, naturally, his number one priority.
It’s been three weeks, in fact, and Sands isn’t quite grinning as he emerges from the office, but it’s a close thing.
After a moment of revelling in the fact that he isn’t stuck in a cell any more, he heads over to Bar. Tequila is, naturally, his number one priority.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 11:11 pmtibetanmethod[After all of this.]
It's been a long, long day.
When Cooper comes in, his jacket is folded over one arm, and he's already pulled loose the knot of his tie, a little.
"Bar," he says, "days like this can only mean one thing. Can I get three spring rolls with duck sauce, an order of kung pao chicken, steamed rice, and cold, unsweetened tea, please?"
It even appears in the little white boxes.
"Bar, you're a lifesaver."
The boxes (and cup) in one hand, plate, fork, and napkin in the other, Cooper finds himself a table.
It's been a long, long day.
When Cooper comes in, his jacket is folded over one arm, and he's already pulled loose the knot of his tie, a little.
"Bar," he says, "days like this can only mean one thing. Can I get three spring rolls with duck sauce, an order of kung pao chicken, steamed rice, and cold, unsweetened tea, please?"
It even appears in the little white boxes.
"Bar, you're a lifesaver."
The boxes (and cup) in one hand, plate, fork, and napkin in the other, Cooper finds himself a table.
(no subject)
Aug. 18th, 2006 11:38 pmmilkbonesoldier.livejournal.comWells ducks into the Bar from what looks like the front door to a residence, if anyone is looking closely enough. He's fuming just a bit, which is not much of a surprise to those that know him. This is what happens when he tries to talk to his father.
"Bar," he says when he's got his temper reined in some, "I could do with something stronger than usual. Got that whisky I favour in stock tonight?"
The glass materialises. Screw half full, it's full.
"Thanks, mate."
"Bar," he says when he's got his temper reined in some, "I could do with something stronger than usual. Got that whisky I favour in stock tonight?"
The glass materialises. Screw half full, it's full.
"Thanks, mate."
