milliways_bar | Dec. 5th, 2006

Dec. 5th, 2006

lichvell-r.livejournal.com

Ravin comes down from the room she is using. No, not her room, she does not have one, but the room a certain nice person lets her use.

She is carrying her drawing pad, her pancils, and... a sign; that is eyed for a bit, before being set up on the booth she claims for the night.

HAND-DRAWN PORTRAITS

Time to test the idea that people would pay for her drawings.

the-woodpecker.livejournal.com

[ooc: Evening.]

It's late when the front door opens on a family which has seen better days. Kids asleep together in the stroller, Bernard and Tonks make their slow way home without stopping, Bernard taking a long breath as he walks. The barlink flickers back to life within him, and Bar's gleaming surface flickers mahogany with shock and grief, finally settling on a deep walnut several shades darker than her habitual stain.

Several hours later, Hestia wings her way out through the House of Arch to deliver the letters Bernard didn't have the time to write before.

( Letters to Aziraphael and Crowley )

kitchen_maid

Amy is settled comfortably over by the fire, with tea near at hand and her daughter in her arms. Amy is telling Susan something -- the word "Protocol" comes up over and over -- and Susan is more or less ignoring her mother, in favor of playing with the ribbon on the front of her frock.

It's good practice for when Susan is a teenager.

ambitionsbared.livejournal.com

"Ow. Ow ow ow ow."

The young lion isn't looking where he's going: as far as he's concerned, he's just been slashed on the face by an impertinent Cape buffalo and mocked by his goody-two-shoes family, and now that the reprimanding is over, he's intent on crawling into a dark space and sulking. The gash is fresh and ugly, the eye beneath it livid and swollen.

He had gotten as far as the crawling into the dark space. He wasn't expecting to emerge anywhere. At the assault of lights and strange smells, he opens his eyes, claws unsheathed, ready to attack.

Despite the pain, his jaw goes slack. He's never seen a herd of creatures like this in the Pride Lands before. Truth be told, he's never seen anything like this in his life.

As the dark young lion gapes, his stomach takes the initiative and growls.

[[10:48 PM: Lackaday, must slowtime. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, my loves! It's being splendid. :D]]

Current Mood: sore

longlonghair

Rapunzel is late for her second haircut of the day.

She jogs up the stairs to Joel’s apartment, where he is no doubt checking his watch with raised eyebrows. The damned cab had gotten stuck in traffic for thirty-five minutes, and her hair is now down near her knees.

“Sorry I’m late!” she calls out as she swings open the door to Joel’s.

Only. It’s not Joel’s. It’s….

“A bar?”

Well. That’s unexpected.

gonna_live

[After this happens:

Kaylee lets Mal know that she, River, and Simon won't be coming back to the ship that night. After that, she and River settle in for a long, long wait.

Eight or so hours later, Simon wakes up.]

captain-falafel.livejournal.com

Well, lookie here. It's a gen-u-ine I-raqi, sitting in an armchair by the fire.

Sayid's not doing much. He's got some dry toast to nibble on--why he isn't taking advantage of the bar to eat something actually tasty is anyone's guess--and he's just gazing into the fire, pondering just what to do about the current Craphole Island politics.

Come bug him! He hasn't snarked at anyone in a while.

huntress-moon.livejournal.com

It was the full moon again.

"It is her moon time
When there's iron in the air
A rusted essence
Woman may I know you're there"

And the forest was alive with howls, moonlight splashing everywhere, the sound of a bow being drawn, hounds barking, and the death screams of prey. December, and it was a cold night for a hunt. The cold mattered little to her, or to the hounds.

"Beware
The woods at night
Beware
The Lunar light"

(Lyrics from Type O Negative's "Wolf Moon")

ninja-mountie.livejournal.com

The little fellow's been spending the past several days inobtrusively watching and listening to the Bar's other patrons where he can. It's been enough to assure him that the unnatural stillness of the snowy landscape and the normally boisterous dogs outside the front door is nothing strange by local standards- but oh, how very strange those local standards are! Everything about this place, from beginning to end, is at the same time similar and too bizarre for words.

It's so very like something Jules Verne might write that he doesn't quite know where to begin.

For now, he'll do this much, at least: breakfast, and a seat with a good view of the rest of the Bar, and then he'll seek out someone who can explain to him just why the last rabbit he managed to snare and skin in those woods outside was plaid.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

This could be one of the shortest entry posts ever. This post could consist of nothing but the words Atlantean hangover and it might, in fact, be enough. However, because less is quite often not more, there will be further description.

Suzi is curled up in a chair with a full pot of trin tea, not-at-all artistically bloodshot eyes, and an expression that says fairly clearly what's up with all this light? Turn it off! Turn it off! She's got a book which she is running an outer dorsal over, slowly, and she's knitting with her tentacles. Only her tentacles, her hands are occupied with the trin tea mentioned earlier. She isn't actually ill anymore, but her head is pounding to the rhythm of whatever is on the sound system in pulses of pure pain.

Suzi has learned something. Peachy-pink? Is a very, very bad color. Very bad.

~~((Time to stagger off to class. New threads welcome, and will be picked up when I get out.))~~

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

The weather this morning is, to borrow a phrase, no better than it has to be. This being early December in simulated Scotland, it does not have to be very nice at all. The skies are grey, the wind enthusiastic, the steady drizzling rain shifting back and forth between too wet and freezing.

It's nothing at all like what a man wants to wake up to, but Wells didn't really have a choice about that this morning. It happens, when you've kept as far from whatever shelter the Dreaming forest might conceivably provide. Oh, he had reason last night, but reason doesn't keep you warm. Moving, on the other hand, does. This is why there is what looks to all appearances to be a crazy man out by the football 'field', running as if he thought he could outdo the sodden winds themselves.

He can't- not yet, not quite- but Harry Wells bloody well means to hit that four minute mile before the snow flies in earnest.

amanda-darieux.livejournal.com

Amanda is outback jogging around the lake, she is considering getting in the water but thinks it may be too cold. The longer she jogs however the warmer she gets and the better the cold lake. Round and round she goes, thinking of very little which is becoming ever more boring.

If you are around the lake about now she would likely jog by for a bit of a chat.

mendanddefend_archive

Bob had a rather... unsettling conversation with Rupert Giles yesterday. He's now sitting in an out-of-the way booth, sipping a shake and brooding.

Brooding is not a natural state of mind for Bob, and he's not doing a very good job. Perhaps someone should come and convince him to try something else.

jedi-exile.livejournal.com

[Not so OOM: Upstairs, Kira cleans up...and then she dreams of a watery grave. No rest for the wicked. Millitimed to vaaaairy early in the morning. Rated F for freaky imagery. Those dead guys. Gosh.]

In a dark corner of the bar sits Kira Isek, with dark circles under her eyes and an untouched cup of caffa on the table. She may have been here all night. Or at least early morning, judging by the circles.

Botherable. If you aren't loud and don't mind a jumpy, grumpy Jedi.

{around for tagging...the mun however, is susceptible to falling asleep due to the insanity of her exam schedule. ♥}

female-were.livejournal.com

There are two lycanthropes in the bar. Are they aware of each other? Most likely. Old aquaintences can't really be forgotten with the history these two have. But they are ignoring each other.

Raina is sitting at a booth with a large bowl of caramel popcorn. She's catalog shopping. Mainly. There's also a stack of paperwork in files that need to be attended to eventually. But currently, she's doing some finger shopping.

Elizabeth is over by the fireplace, making sure to take up a nice large portion of the couch she's on. You wouldn't think someone so petite would be able to take up so much room, but she's part cat. And cats have a nice way of stretching over all available surfaces.

Neither would object to company. Just makes sure to note who your giving your company to.

shaped-jeedai.livejournal.com

Even though they're in a state of relative peace, there is no shortage of chores that need to be done around the Jedi Academy. Master Skywalker is having a new sparring room installed-- a very high-tech one, with variable gravity and floating obstacles and wind machines and probably something that makes it rain.

It's very exciting.

However, at one point during planning for this project, someone brought up the lack of good practice armor for the kidlets. The few suits they did have used cortosis fibers which wasn't so bad except that the ore was terribly expensive and even when mixed with alloys tended to be very brittle.

Naturally, cortosis wasn't the only material with documented lightsaber stopping power. The vonduun crab armor worn by the Yuuzhan Vong had proven quite effective against Jedi weapons during the war. Because it was made from living creatures and was usually grown to fit the wearer, vonduun crab was almost as impractical as cortosis. Tahiri, still arguably one of the Jedi's best experts on the Yuuzhan Vong, had volunteered to help work out some sort of solution for their armor problem.

In other words, there's a barefoot blonde parked at a well-lit booth surrounded by piles of printouts and fiddling with her datapad's tri-D drawing program while she takes notes.

[ooc: yay new canon, even though tahiri's not going through it. mun is writing a paper but in dire need of distractions.]

krazyglusurgeon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Of all the things you never want to hear from a superior officer, a confused 'what?' is right up there. Cooper speaks to Deegan. Cooper now has more questions than answers.]

captainryan.livejournal.com

Ryan woke up this morning fairly close to where he left his clothes last night, something he is profoundly grateful for since it's freezing out. Before he could get dressed, though, he had to use the remaining snow to wash himself clean of the blood.

He's pretty sure it isn't human since he pulled a chunk of red fur out of his teeth.

Human? There was something last night about human meat...
They tasted good.
Oh.
the meat in the black unmarked BDU's
Oh, God.

He makes it to the nearest tree and empties his stomach's contents at its base.

It's some time later that he staggers out from the woods, fully dressed, to the lakes edge. He's going to spend the morning rinsing his mouth out.

impulsivekid.livejournal.com

Kid Flash is running around, trying to find something to occupy his mind. And then he feels it, the call of the door. With a smile, he runs into the door, passing through it.

Outside in his world, time passes. More for him then for others.

Which means, when the doors reopens, it's an older man who enters, in his early twenties, with no costume. Not yet, anyways.

And Bart smiles, as he looks around.

"Back here. Finally."

yuppie-trash.livejournal.com

Normal.

The trouble with normal is that is that it always gets worse.

He is sitting at the Bar with a (in a Dries Van Noten double-breasted suit in black wool, DKNY sweater in French Blue, Paul Smith shoes and Kenneth Cole, full-grain cowhide leather) messenger bag and a copy of the day's paper (--her name will be in 1,104 stories. The number bothers him, the story disturbs him, and he wants to threaten the French au pair at home) that he had brought with him. He fully intended to wait out his lunch hour at Veniero's but when the door opened up into the bar he wonders how her (it) millefolige is.

The newspaper's blaring headlines are forgotten in lieu of the strawberry version (this "thousand layered delight") Italian pastry.

seeks-sixfinger.livejournal.com

Inigo's been absent from the bar for a while, but the satisfied expression on his face as he comes in would seem to indicate that his time away has been well-spent, and the small clinking pouch he sets on the bar corroborates this by lowering his tab significantly.

If anyone's been wishing a Spanish pirate would show up and buy them a drink lately, this might be a good night for it.

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

She hadn't meant to stay the night. But the fire was warm and inviting, and the couch so comfortable, and truth be told, Sarah was still feeling the effects of the oxygen starvation. At the time, she had figured that a small nap wouldn't hurt - she'd return to that odd white room at the same moment from when she had left and with clearer senses to help the Doctor and Harry.

Despite the cup of tea, the nap had turned into full blown sleep. It's amazing what you can sleep through sometimes when you really need it.

Now, though, Sarah Jane is awake and sitting by the fire place with a scone and a glass of water. Best to eat something before heading back, after all.

white_flowers

Elsewhere, far from Milliways, someone is starting her life over.

masterofsoresu

This is only the third time this Jedi has come in the front door. The second time was when he returned from the Foliage Census takedown. The first was when he arrived in response to Anakin's call.

This time, he's in his Jedi robes, not that Colonel Sanders suit, and he's got the hood down, not up. He seems to have come a long way, but it's not clear in which direction.

He writes a brief note, pins it to the bulletin board... then takes it down briefly, passes it to Bar, and gets it back, written in alphabetic letters this time rather than Aurebesh.

( Here's what it says. )

That done, he orders grain cakes and mineral water and settles back to enjoy them. He's always botherable.

shufti

In one corner of the bar, Shufti is asleep on a sofa. Just in front of her on the floor is Jack, who is having his developmental milestones checked by Guppy.

This would appear to involve a squeaky mouse toy, possibly borrowed from the cat, being placed under various pieces of cloth.

"Here's the mouse. The mouse goes under here. Where's the mouse?"

Jack stares at Guppy for a moment, then pulls the mouse out from under the cloth with an expression of Do I look stupid?.

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine's downstairs, ready with her tray to wait on tables.

She's also distracted with thinking about the interviews she needs to conduct tomorrow.

But she's ready to serve you.