milliways_bar | Nov. 21st, 2006

Nov. 21st, 2006

Hannah Griffith came into the bar today when she should have been headed into French class. It's been, for the most part, a good day, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't welcome a break for a latte before her last class.

[ooc: Plot-locked. Say sorry.]

dragon_twin

Melou's been in the bar for a while now. Long enough to head up to Angela's room, grab his maps and head back downstairs.

They've been spread out on a table for a few minutes, but he has yet to begin working on them. For the moment, he seems content to study them while lounging in his chair, sipping a scotch.

before-w.livejournal.com

Evey is...

Not as pleased, perhaps, with her new situation as she might have been.

Considering the alternative.

But it is as it is, and he's no guilt for what's done to keep her alive.
Never guilt for anything needed for that. And alive, too.
That does not mean that part of V is not pleased at the distraction provided when he steps into the bar.

fiveroundsrapid.livejournal.com

The door, for some reason, simply refused to return the Brigadier to Devil's End last night. This was remarkably irritating. He'll try it again after supper; for all that time does stop here for him, it's hardly what he'd call convenient.

Although it does pay off occasionally in the form of company. Not that he's likely to admit it.

themouthbreathr.livejournal.com

Pre-Milliways

There's a gawky boy with a truly terrible haircut standing against the door. He's clutching a stuffed bear with a creepy plastic face against his bright yellow vest, on which his name is stitched in red. On the other side of his chest is a red pin that also has his name on it, and declares him Asst. Mgr.

His mouth is wide open; gaping. He could catch flies. He could catch fish. He could probably catch an SUV.

But then, that's what Alec always looks like.

un_fallen

[OOM: Things are touch and go in the panic after Crowley escapes from the house. Aziraphael enlists some help from the closest warm body at hand.]

stilljustandrew

*Geekboy. Table. Sandwich. Notebook.*

*Verbs and adjectives cost extra today, evidently.*

prince-arithon.livejournal.com

Darkened booths are prime property in Milliways. Almost everyone wants one.

For Arithon, any booth can be a darkened booth. So, for that matter, can any table. He's picked one out of the way this time, anyway, because he just wants a quiet ale and to attempt to lose the headache he's had for...

...

...a while. After he killed Captain Washington.

And if the shadows are a little darker than the lights around him should allow, well. That's a perk, isn't it?

Arithon can't remember how long its been since he last touched an instrument.

misterparker.livejournal.com

Parker's staring out at the end of the universe.

The expression on his face would be hard to name, even for people hwo knew him well. For want of a better word, he looks cold.

mendanddefend_archive

Bob enters and walks up to the Bar. "Bar? A plate of chips and a glass of Ray's Green Stuff, please."

They appear... and so does a very familiar book.

"Not again... look, tell Foxtrot I'm flattered, but I don't want it, okay?"

The Kitsune Sutra stays where it is.

"Seriously. Just delete it or give it to someone else or something. I don't care."

The book stubbornly refuses to go away.

After a moment's thought, Bob picks up his food and goes to sit at the other end of the Bar.

The book disappears and reappears at his new seat.

Bob cringes and makes a strangled noise of frustration in the back of his throat. Then he sighs, turns, and proceeds to eat his meal, pointedly not looking at the unwanted gift.

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Knox is sitting near the fireplace. Today, he's taking it easy. No worries about money, or work, or Batman. In other words, the life of the idle rich.

Naturally, he's bored and wouldn't mind finding someone to talk to. Come say hi.

{ooc: slowtime, as usual, is a possibility.]

the_lioness

[Security: there are a few notes up in the office.]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells is in a sodding wonderful mood. The job's official. Papers signed and everything. Tomorrow's going to be the best morning he's had in a long, long time even if it goes completely to hell.

Right now, he's got something that could be lunch or could be just an early supper, and a book Bar kindly issued him on pressure points for immobilization strikes and grapples. Should be good reading.

pointed-spoon.livejournal.com

So, he hasn't been on the best behaviour recently.

So sue him.

He's in the bar anyways, looking around shiftily.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi, a pad of paper, and a collection of colored pencils which are held in her right hand and tentacles. She's drawing any number of things in a variety of fire colors as she attempts to work out what would be the most effective way of fashioning Rachel's requested commission.

And every thirty seconds her left ankle goes jingle.

3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com

((OOM. Pregnant girl-on-girl brothel action!

Um... in other words, Alanna somehow manages to climb the stairs up to the third floor in order to ~~find food~~ set Goldy an interesting new Security assignment. C-sections and needles are discussed and a variety of other news is shared.))

yuppie-trash.livejournal.com

(There's a good way to signal the end of a house guest stay, and there's a bad way--"get the hell out" would be considered bad--on how to kick people out-er, I mean let your house guests know that perhaps it's time to go home.)

Patrick Bateman knows that it's time for a departure. This morning he made sure that the room he keeps in the bar (never sleep again) is just as clean, as untouched as it was when he asked for it. It might still smell very faintly of bleach. As disgusted as he is with ruining a good manicure, there are some jobs that no one else can do with the same attention to detail.

He steps down the stairs, pulling on a glove onto his right hand (it still tremors when he isn't paying attention) with his teeth. The left (broken) remains tucked into the pocket of his overcoat. The questionable state of the suit beneath remains unanswered because the buttons of the coat are all done up. Patrick pauses at the bar, without touching it (her) and looks up to consider his tab.

It's even. That was the last bit of business he had to tend to. It's time to get the fuck out of Dodge.

[ooc: Tag if you want to. If you really, really, really want to. But, like Cypress Hill says: insane in da membrane.]

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

The door hasn't opened yet, a fact that's beginning to get to Quinn. The last time he was here, the Bar seemed only too eager to get rid of him. Now there's lives at stake and it bloody well won't let him go. Oh, he's tried the knob several times a day the past few days, but still there's nothing.

It's hardly the sort of thing to put a man in the frame of mind necessary to collect stories and histories to bring back with him, so he's not in the Bar just now. He's going to try Creedy's method of getting his nerves under control. Being somewhere green is as much a luxury as anything the Bar has to offer, if not more so.

It's something, at least.

realmrsreynolds

It's been awhile since the last time Sallie Reynolds has been in the bar -- at least, it feels that way, on top of the work that goes into preparing the ranch for the colder winter around the corner. Winters on Shadow are short, but very bitter.

That said, Sallie enters the bar and immediately requests a cup of hot chocolate -- coffee she can make on her own; chocolate's expensive.

"Could I ask for some peppermint in here too, please?"

When she picks up the mug, there's some peppermint syrup immediately noticable -- not to mention the peppermint swirl stick peeking over the edge of her cup.

not-one-drop.livejournal.com

[OoM: After the conversation with Santino, Mal sends a note to Ramon and engages in a not-so-friendly conversation.]

diablorobotico.livejournal.com

The door flies open, to something that sounds suspiciously like people fighting, and somebody runs through, hands glowing bright blue, grinding to a halt just before he crashes into a waitrat and nearly tripping over, but managing to right himself before he does. Behind him, the door swings shut, and when he looks back, it's gone.

He looks to one side, then the other, then behind him, then forward and there's a few moments of speechlessness. This is, probably, the inevitable result of running into Milliways.

Once he thinks he can say something again, he opens his mouth, only to find out that he was sorely mistaken, and must endure a few more moments of speechlessness.

Victor Mancha is in the bar. And he's very confused.

[OOC: Off for sleep now. Will pick up any tags ASAP.]

wizard_dresden

So, I was walking home from Mac's and decided to stop in at the grocery store, since I don't actually have any groceries in my apartment, but instead of the store, I end up here.

Again.

This bar is the weirdest place I've ever been to by accident.

By the way - has anyone seen my skull?

coin-tricks.livejournal.com

The coins didn't look like any coins he'd ever seen before, but they were still coins, and Shadow didn't have any of his own. He'd found one under a pile of blankets in the closet in his room, and the other he'd found in the grass near the lake. One was gold and rough around the edges, and the other was large and silver and heavy. It almost felt like the silver Liberty-head dollar that Zorya Polunochnaya had given him, years ago now.

He smiles as he takes the silver coin and without thinking, flicks it across the backs of his knuckles. He makes it look effortless. Shadow then flicks the coins around and around a circuit of different positions. He's just practicing.

Now, he takes the smaller gold coin and pretends to take it from his left hand, while concealing the larger silver coin in his right. He opens his right hand and shows the silver coin. His Pointless Coin Trick, now complete with point.

Anyone want to see some magic?

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM, Millitimed to a couple weeks ago:

Jack makes his first trip home to L.A., this time travelling under his own name. It's not exactly the happiest of reunions, as a bad dream and late night argument with Kim brings up a few things he'd rather have left unspoken, and spoils Chase and Kim's night as well. However, a talk with Chase the next morning sorts things out, mostly. It's not all fun and games, there are appointments to keep, but then finally there is at least one game: strip chess, with Chris, which turns out rather like you'd expect, even if it fades to black.]

the_antiangst

Well, look who's got an entrance post.
Angel's on a couch by the fireplace. He finished the reread earlier, so now he's moved on to a sewing project.

pwyll_twiceborn

The first thing Paul does upon finding himself in Milliways, this time as before, is to test the door handle to make sure it will still open.

The second thing he does is check to see whether anyone else from Fionavar has mysteriously turned up; if Jaelle appeared, who knows who might be next? He wouldn't put it past Diarmuid to swing down from the rafters.

But the third thing he does is sit down and enjoy a coffee, because he has to admit it's better (and cheaper) here than in the coffee house he was in before.

shufti

Shufti is by the fire, reading a story to Jack.

"Where's my cow?
"Is that my cow?
"It goes baa!"

Jack laughs and points at the picture.

"Ba!"

His mum smiles and snuggles him.

"It is a sheep!
That's not my cow!"

She still has a large purple bruise running down her forehead. It looks swollen and painful, and isn't well hidden by her hair. But since the cause is now locked in the office, she's trying not to let it bother her.

guppy_sandhu

There is a cool breeze from the door as Guppy comes in; a light drizzle dusting everything in a damp and annoying fashion. He quickly closes the door, runs a handkerchief through his hair to remove excess moisture, and goes over to the bar.

"Tea please." he says, putting a gentle hand on her varnish. She obliges, also giving him an apple. He smiles slightly, thanks her and takes them over to near the fire.

dragon_twin

[OOM: You call someone on their bullshit, chances are, someone's going to call you on yours.]

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine comes downstairs for another waitressing shift. She's dressed in her usual jeans and a t-shirt.

She's looking for people to wait on and also thinking about Thanksgiving.

She's also got flour on her nose, since she's been baking.

last-king.livejournal.com

It would not be entirely inaccurate to say that Tirian has been hiding out in the House of Arch since the effects of the Band Candy wore off.

Oh, all right, it would be entirely accurate to say that Tirian has been hiding out in the House of Arch since the effects of the Band Candy wore off.

But now he's by the fire with cider, looking a bit solemn, but not out of sorts.

ladyfirestarter

[An OOM and a finished slowtime, both millitimed to the 20th:
The effects of the house are still playing themselves out, both here and back home.
But there's some help, and some distraction, to be found here.]

rigthegames.livejournal.com

[OoM: Sands does not appreciate sand.]

dontlooklisten.livejournal.com

Whistler left the sound system at Milliways with ninety-nine compact discs' worth of music. There were other forms of recording available as well. He does not think this is anything like enough, so right now he's seated in one of the booths with a big damn pair of earphones on, going through a stack of compact discs a good half a meter tall and sorting them into piles.

No cover art, alas. Braille labels. He'll have someone sighted label the good ones before he gives them to Bar to add to the lineup. Still, it's not the most common tableau around here, is it?