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Dec. 11th, 2006 01:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gone_byebyeOOM: Not by caffeine alone do we set our minds in motion. In Washington, DC, President Winston gets a wake-up call.
Dec. 11th, 2006
gone_byebye
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Dec. 11th, 2006 02:07 amgone_byebyeOOM: If Papa ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. The Ghostbusters get a pre-dawn communique from the White House, but THEIR wake-up call comes a little bit after that.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 04:04 amstilljustandrew*Andrew's sitting in a booth, a half-finished plate of meatball-and-mozzarella Hot Pockets at his elbow.*
*He's ignoring them for the moment in favor of chewing on the end of his pen, and studying the half-finished list he's working on.*
*He's ignoring them for the moment in favor of chewing on the end of his pen, and studying the half-finished list he's working on.*
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Dec. 11th, 2006 05:55 amfutures_of_ashEarly morning was no more obscene an hour than midnight or noon for either of the pair that came drifting down the stairs. Rachel was chuckling softly at something Yrael had said, a blue silk shirt, as bright as any flame's heart and dark black pants over her usual spandex.
Though they hated blue...
Over...because one never knew what could happen out there.
Yrael's gaze was teasing, and just a little impatient as Rachel stuck out her tongue and walked to Bar rather than the door. But, she'd promised...and she'd not leave without telling people again.
Never again.
The
( note )
That done she patted Bar cheerfully and went over to ruffle the impatient not!cat's hair. The door he gallantly opened for her opened out into gently lapping waters...
Though they hated blue...
Over...because one never knew what could happen out there.
Yrael's gaze was teasing, and just a little impatient as Rachel stuck out her tongue and walked to Bar rather than the door. But, she'd promised...and she'd not leave without telling people again.
Never again.
The
( note )That done she patted Bar cheerfully and went over to ruffle the impatient not!cat's hair. The door he gallantly opened for her opened out into gently lapping waters...
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Dec. 11th, 2006 08:54 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sime-channel.livejournal.comSuzi's player is running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Suzi? Decidedly more serene. The anteaters are on hold while she knits a red and white santa hat for Whistler.
Her jeweler's sign is up, as is her little book of samples, and she's got a mug of tea.
Her jeweler's sign is up, as is her little book of samples, and she's got a mug of tea.
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 09:56 amorganicmeatbag.livejournal.com[OOM: There is talking, there is almost doom, and then there is ...sex followed by more almost doom and sleep.]
Revan, dressed in the standard Jedi garb of his time, is downstairs by the window, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and watching the universe end. As much as he seems to be peaceful and composed in appearance, his mind is racing, always racing, as he begins to sift through heavily guarded thoughts. Though one, if they were close enough to see, might notice a flicker of emotion in his eyes or the clench of his jaw as he works through some particular thoughts or problems of his own.
Eventually, he may order a datapad from the Bar and start scribbling these thoughts or problems down to work through. Not that many would understand what it means when they look at it; most of it would be gibberish written in Aurebesh or mathematical statistics and formulas with doodles of incomplete planetary systems in the margins. It would not, however, be plans to take over the galaxy far, far away although it might seem as such.
For now though, he stands and watches and thinks.
Revan, dressed in the standard Jedi garb of his time, is downstairs by the window, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and watching the universe end. As much as he seems to be peaceful and composed in appearance, his mind is racing, always racing, as he begins to sift through heavily guarded thoughts. Though one, if they were close enough to see, might notice a flicker of emotion in his eyes or the clench of his jaw as he works through some particular thoughts or problems of his own.
Eventually, he may order a datapad from the Bar and start scribbling these thoughts or problems down to work through. Not that many would understand what it means when they look at it; most of it would be gibberish written in Aurebesh or mathematical statistics and formulas with doodles of incomplete planetary systems in the margins. It would not, however, be plans to take over the galaxy far, far away although it might seem as such.
For now though, he stands and watches and thinks.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 10:21 amdontlooklisten.livejournal.comWhistler makes his way down the stairs, prodding briefly at the floor ahead of him with his cane before heading for the Bar. As reliable as the path from stairs to Bar generally is, it occasionally throws him for a loop, and he's in no mood to be tripped up today. Fortunately, the way remains clear.
"Bar," he says, putting a piece of thick, bumpy stuff on the bartop, "could you translate this for me and pass it along to Garion?" It vanishes; he nods. "Thanks," he says. "That and some scrambled eggs should do it."
The walls are in a particularly good configuration today for listening to John Coltrane while sitting at the end of the Bar, so that's what he's going to do. It's a good morning overall, really.
"Bar," he says, putting a piece of thick, bumpy stuff on the bartop, "could you translate this for me and pass it along to Garion?" It vanishes; he nods. "Thanks," he says. "That and some scrambled eggs should do it."
The walls are in a particularly good configuration today for listening to John Coltrane while sitting at the end of the Bar, so that's what he's going to do. It's a good morning overall, really.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 10:47 amgotham-knocking.livejournal.comKnox sits at the bar, orders coffee, and gets a free note. He's still not used to people caling him Alex (he's been just Knox for so long) so he smiles even though he wonder what she's getting into this time. And who Yrael is.
The note is dated, thanks to Bar, and so Knox decides it's past time to figure out what to get his friends for Christmas. He's got some ideas, but it will require Bar's help. Luckily, he can afford a lot now.
Come say "hi", or "hello", or even "wassup?" (not that he'll get that).
The note is dated, thanks to Bar, and so Knox decides it's past time to figure out what to get his friends for Christmas. He's got some ideas, but it will require Bar's help. Luckily, he can afford a lot now.
Come say "hi", or "hello", or even "wassup?" (not that he'll get that).
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Dec. 11th, 2006 11:02 amgone_byebye[OOM: Some days are better than others. The Ghostbusters are treated to the same video that the President got, and are officially asked to serve their country.]
The door opens on a scene of the sort of studied neutrality one expects from doctors' waiting rooms or airport boarding lounges, décor designed to calm and reassure. Ray looks anything but calm and reassured as he comes in. Frankly, he looks like he's been dragged out of bed by a team of overenthusiastic huskies under the impression that it's the final stage of the Iditarod. "Bar," he says as the door closes behind him, "I really don't care what time of day it is here. I would appreciate it greatly if you would be so kind as to give me a nice hefty cheeseburger, a glass of Ovaltine, and something thick and skooshy that I could bang my head on without doing myself injury. Please?"
There is some hesitation. Eventually, the items are provided, although a note attached to a toothpick jammed into the cheeseburger indicates that the meat is ostrich. Lower fat, less cholesterol.
"Thank you, Bar," Ray says very evenly.
He only twitches a little bit about the plate having rocketships all around the edges.
The door opens on a scene of the sort of studied neutrality one expects from doctors' waiting rooms or airport boarding lounges, décor designed to calm and reassure. Ray looks anything but calm and reassured as he comes in. Frankly, he looks like he's been dragged out of bed by a team of overenthusiastic huskies under the impression that it's the final stage of the Iditarod. "Bar," he says as the door closes behind him, "I really don't care what time of day it is here. I would appreciate it greatly if you would be so kind as to give me a nice hefty cheeseburger, a glass of Ovaltine, and something thick and skooshy that I could bang my head on without doing myself injury. Please?"
There is some hesitation. Eventually, the items are provided, although a note attached to a toothpick jammed into the cheeseburger indicates that the meat is ostrich. Lower fat, less cholesterol.
"Thank you, Bar," Ray says very evenly.
He only twitches a little bit about the plate having rocketships all around the edges.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 01:00 pmmd_donighalThere's a flash of light through the door's frame a moment before it opens to reveal the man in the gray suit. "Hmm..." he says. "I'll have to thank the DJ for that."
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Dec. 11th, 2006 02:23 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/Jack has a ball back out- a glass thing, with a snowflake dancing in the middle of it. He'd almost forgotten about it.
But it's back out, and he's lying on his back on a couch, tossing and catching it rhythmically.
But it's back out, and he's lying on his back on a couch, tossing and catching it rhythmically.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 03:14 pmhcliffhuxtable.livejournal.comAnd a doctor is in.
Cliff Huxtable's in a seat, just listening to Coltrane. He'd made a valiant effort earlier to convince Bar that donuts and coffee were a proper breakfast.
Bar was having none of it. So he's got cereal, fruit, and a Santa hat covering his thick skull.
"If any elves show up, I'm out of here. Understand? Only for you," meaning the Bar. Never get on the bad side of She Who Must Be Obeyed.
Cliff Huxtable's in a seat, just listening to Coltrane. He'd made a valiant effort earlier to convince Bar that donuts and coffee were a proper breakfast.
Bar was having none of it. So he's got cereal, fruit, and a Santa hat covering his thick skull.
"If any elves show up, I'm out of here. Understand? Only for you," meaning the Bar. Never get on the bad side of She Who Must Be Obeyed.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 03:42 pmwhite_flowersShe continues to go into the village regularly, carrying her work to the gallery and then spending the rest of those afternoons in town before going back to her cottage by the sea. She's grown fond of one shop in particular-- Bagatelles and Baubles, which has any number of odd nooks and strange crannies, all of them with a variety of items scattered about haphazardly, ranging from treasure to trinket. The owners know her by sight now, and today's no exception -- when "Angie North" comes in, they wave a quick greeting and motion her on toward the door that leads to the little side room where new items are kept so that 'regulars' can get a first look at them.
She's turned the knob and is already halfway through the door before she stops in her tracks with a sharp gasp. China blue eyes are very wide indeed as the woman once known as Blodwen Rowlands stares in shock at Milliways.
Her paralysis doesn't last long, though. She whirls and bolts back into the shop, slamming the door shut behind her.
She's turned the knob and is already halfway through the door before she stops in her tracks with a sharp gasp. China blue eyes are very wide indeed as the woman once known as Blodwen Rowlands stares in shock at Milliways.
Her paralysis doesn't last long, though. She whirls and bolts back into the shop, slamming the door shut behind her.
1st_starfighterOne man remembers...
...and, much earlier, a younger man sets out for a nice evening...
The Door opens into Milliways, and a young man steps in, stumbling, as if he had expected to step upward, which he had.
He blinks. He looks around, stepping forward cautiously, glancing back through the door to his room, then letting go of the door and looking around with a rapidly growing look of alarm. This is not the hallway outside his room, nor anywhere he has ever seen before. This is... impossible.
"Um...wha-?"
Sheer eloquence comes forth as he tries to summon up a response to the fact that a really big bar, larger than anything he has seen in his life, and crammed with more people... people and not-people, than he has ever seen at once, has appeared in his trailer home. A world out of some video game or science fiction story... like Star Trek. Not that he ever watched Star Trek. Not where anyone could see him do so, anyway.
He stares about him, confused, frightened, and awed, and doesn't notice at first as the door closes and then shimmers to a blank wall. When he finally does tear his gaze away from the crowd of very strange looking people who Just Should Not Be There, and glance over his shoulder, his look quickly becomes one of fear and disbelief. How do doors disappear? He stares at the wall, and feels it, and looks even more frightened
"What the heck?" He pokes the wall, then turns back to the bar and looks around, shivering. "Where am I?" Forgive him if his voice breaks in the middle. His world has just been yanked out from under him.
Welcome to Milliways, Alex Rogan.
...and, much earlier, a younger man sets out for a nice evening...
The Door opens into Milliways, and a young man steps in, stumbling, as if he had expected to step upward, which he had.
He blinks. He looks around, stepping forward cautiously, glancing back through the door to his room, then letting go of the door and looking around with a rapidly growing look of alarm. This is not the hallway outside his room, nor anywhere he has ever seen before. This is... impossible.
"Um...wha-?"
Sheer eloquence comes forth as he tries to summon up a response to the fact that a really big bar, larger than anything he has seen in his life, and crammed with more people... people and not-people, than he has ever seen at once, has appeared in his trailer home. A world out of some video game or science fiction story... like Star Trek. Not that he ever watched Star Trek. Not where anyone could see him do so, anyway.
He stares about him, confused, frightened, and awed, and doesn't notice at first as the door closes and then shimmers to a blank wall. When he finally does tear his gaze away from the crowd of very strange looking people who Just Should Not Be There, and glance over his shoulder, his look quickly becomes one of fear and disbelief. How do doors disappear? He stares at the wall, and feels it, and looks even more frightened
"What the heck?" He pokes the wall, then turns back to the bar and looks around, shivering. "Where am I?" Forgive him if his voice breaks in the middle. His world has just been yanked out from under him.
Welcome to Milliways, Alex Rogan.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 07:06 pmhearthethoughts.livejournal.com[OOM: There's only so much exposure to a place like Milliways that a new telepath can take.]
There's a shuffling on the stairs that lead to the guestquarters, and Matt Parkman emerges, taking the stairs carefully, one step at a time.
The minute his feet hit the bottom of the staircase he makes a beeline for the bar, practically pushing people through to get to it. When he reaches the countertop, he swallows hard, voice dry.
"...Can I get some asprin and a glass of water?"
A bottle of Asprin appears along with a tall glass of water. He takes four (far above the recommended dosage) And starts chugging the water down.
As far as appearances go, the cop looks exhausted. He's hearing...everything. And every time he builds up a new shield there's another thought tearing it down.
Approach, but approach with caution. He's extremely sensitive at the moment.
There's a shuffling on the stairs that lead to the guestquarters, and Matt Parkman emerges, taking the stairs carefully, one step at a time.
The minute his feet hit the bottom of the staircase he makes a beeline for the bar, practically pushing people through to get to it. When he reaches the countertop, he swallows hard, voice dry.
"...Can I get some asprin and a glass of water?"
A bottle of Asprin appears along with a tall glass of water. He takes four (far above the recommended dosage) And starts chugging the water down.
As far as appearances go, the cop looks exhausted. He's hearing...everything. And every time he builds up a new shield there's another thought tearing it down.
Approach, but approach with caution. He's extremely sensitive at the moment.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 07:06 pmsime-channel.livejournal.comShe had breakfast with Whistler, and then picked up another commission. After she got that she headed upstairs to work on it for a while. Suzi has spent a lot of time, lately, feeling horribly useless and any work is better than nothing. (Jingle-)
And then a nager burst into her awareness, even through walls and floor. It really couldn't help but do so. She compared (in her head) Quinn's nager to a flashlight in a dark cave. This? Its like being a room away from the sun. (-jingle-)
And its coming from downstairs. Which means maybe the door opened, maybe a Gen came in. From the level of the field, as her feet have dragged her halfway down the stairs already, it might even be a Companion. (-jingle-)
Which is why her head doesn't even need to turn because she's been pointed in the right direction since she hit the stairs and its perfectly obvious who is the source of that beautiful, wonderful, life-giving field. (-thud.)
It isn't even a terribly graceful faint, as such things are said to go. No gentle folding, no soft sigh, just a shocked expression as soon as the information her eyes are giving her is processed followed by a rapid and careless topple in the direction of the foot which had been raised to take another step forward.
And then a nager burst into her awareness, even through walls and floor. It really couldn't help but do so. She compared (in her head) Quinn's nager to a flashlight in a dark cave. This? Its like being a room away from the sun. (-jingle-)
And its coming from downstairs. Which means maybe the door opened, maybe a Gen came in. From the level of the field, as her feet have dragged her halfway down the stairs already, it might even be a Companion. (-jingle-)
Which is why her head doesn't even need to turn because she's been pointed in the right direction since she hit the stairs and its perfectly obvious who is the source of that beautiful, wonderful, life-giving field. (-thud.)
It isn't even a terribly graceful faint, as such things are said to go. No gentle folding, no soft sigh, just a shocked expression as soon as the information her eyes are giving her is processed followed by a rapid and careless topple in the direction of the foot which had been raised to take another step forward.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 07:16 pmleftthecradle.livejournal.comThe Ranger has managed to talk his equine charge into staying in the stables for the moment. The waitrats and Ooompa-Loompas had been giving Cai some pointed looks (even though she was very good and went outside to 'do her business' every time), and the weather is just to cold and damp to just wander by the lakeside.
The Ranger is now at a quiet table which is slightly out of the flow of traffic. On the table is his usual tea, a lit candle and....some crystal slabs?
He would welcome company. Why don't you say hi?
The Ranger is now at a quiet table which is slightly out of the flow of traffic. On the table is his usual tea, a lit candle and....some crystal slabs?
He would welcome company. Why don't you say hi?
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 08:08 pmlastczarnian.livejournal.comLocomes down from upstairs and heads to the bar. There, he receives an hypernet palmtop, his usual big ale, and a cigar.
"Thanks babe." He pats the counter, and starts going over the updated 300 Most Wanted list, as compiled by over 10k law enforcement agencies around the galaxy...
Botherable. He is just planning his next job.
"Thanks babe." He pats the counter, and starts going over the updated 300 Most Wanted list, as compiled by over 10k law enforcement agencies around the galaxy...
Botherable. He is just planning his next job.
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Dec. 11th, 2006 09:04 pmcapt_angieBecause the mun has been lax in RPing lately, HERE! Have a minimalist multi-pup EP.
Angelina is sitting in a booth reading an article about the upcoming Quidditch season.
Drusilla is in the brothel lounge, playing with her tarot cards while waiting for clients.
Inari is sitting at the observation window with a glass of coke and her laptop.
Helga is sitting by the fire, working on a new sewing project- a set of small, gold-coloured dress robes- and talking to one of the waitrats.
Angelina is sitting in a booth reading an article about the upcoming Quidditch season.
Drusilla is in the brothel lounge, playing with her tarot cards while waiting for clients.
Inari is sitting at the observation window with a glass of coke and her laptop.
Helga is sitting by the fire, working on a new sewing project- a set of small, gold-coloured dress robes- and talking to one of the waitrats.
Happy hour!
Dec. 11th, 2006 09:07 pmcollects_earsAt first, there is no one behind bar.
And then - just like that - there is.
He didn't teleport or anything... he just moved very quickly.
"Tonight's drinks; Key Lime Shooter, King Kong, Klingon Disrupter and Kris Kringle.."
And he's there to take your order.
"What'll it be?"
And then - just like that - there is.
He didn't teleport or anything... he just moved very quickly.
"Tonight's drinks; Key Lime Shooter, King Kong, Klingon Disrupter and Kris Kringle.."
And he's there to take your order.
"What'll it be?"
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 09:39 pmdragonofgrey.livejournal.comDraco entered from the painting of dogs. Been holing up at Master Salazar's estate or the House of Arch mostly. Careful glances around to make sure things were quiet. He then saw about ordering a tea, and finding some place to sit and observe the bar's goings on. Dressed in stylish dark green robes again.
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 10:03 pmtalkstohatsThere's a little old lady sitting in the corner of the bar, working on sewing small silver-and-blue triangles to a piece of silver braid.
She's making herself a skirt. (Out of an old wizard's robe, but Howl will never notice the difference, surely. Anyways, it was already ruined.)
She's making herself a skirt. (Out of an old wizard's robe, but Howl will never notice the difference, surely. Anyways, it was already ruined.)
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 10:14 pmguppy_sandhu[oom: Things can only get better.]
Guppy is sitting in one corner, with a pile of paperwork in front of him that he's not really looking at.
And a small bruise around his eye. But he looks far from unhappy about that. Actually he looks unusually cheerful.
Find out why?
Guppy is sitting in one corner, with a pile of paperwork in front of him that he's not really looking at.
And a small bruise around his eye. But he looks far from unhappy about that. Actually he looks unusually cheerful.
Find out why?
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 10:22 pmtokilltherose.livejournal.comThe surprise had been for a brand new reason when Milliways had shown up in his apartment. He'd actually shown up on purpose. Now, he had a glass of water, a pen, and a stack of applications to fill out, which he was doing dutifully. He needed work. Especially now.
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 10:48 pmshuftiShufti comes in through the front door, with Jack crawling in front of her. It looks like they've been away a couple of weeks; she has been trying to keep things calm and stable for the baby.
She goes over to the bar and gets an orange juice, plus some dinner for the two of them.
"Here we go Jack, dinner time..."
She stops and stares as the little boy steps forward, leaning on the bar.
10 months 2 weeks
She goes over to the bar and gets an orange juice, plus some dinner for the two of them.
"Here we go Jack, dinner time..."
She stops and stares as the little boy steps forward, leaning on the bar.
10 months 2 weeks
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 11:10 pmamazongeneral.livejournal.comIt's a beautiful evening just outside the bar. The snow will probably be gone tomorrow, but right now there's a smooth, even layer of fluffy frozen white.
There's an Amazon standing just outside the range of light, smoothing a snowball she's packed into a perfect sphere. It's not playing in the snow! It's art.
Come demonstrate the missile capabilities of snowballs! Or criticize her artwork.
There's an Amazon standing just outside the range of light, smoothing a snowball she's packed into a perfect sphere. It's not playing in the snow! It's art.
Come demonstrate the missile capabilities of snowballs! Or criticize her artwork.
(no subject)
Dec. 11th, 2006 11:36 pmbringnewjokes[OOM: It starts. The Shandor Building is ready to blow.]
Tucker Foley still didn't understand that he didn't have to JUMP through the door to Milliways every time he went there, so jump he did, and he looked worriedly through the door, before hopping back through back to what looked like a public restroom.
A moment later he jumped through again, this time with one Samantha Manson and both teens ran to the center of the bar, looked wildly around the room and called out a name.
"Egon!"
"Peter!"
Then:
"Peter!"
"Egon!"
Then, both at the same time:
"RAY!"
Tucker Foley still didn't understand that he didn't have to JUMP through the door to Milliways every time he went there, so jump he did, and he looked worriedly through the door, before hopping back through back to what looked like a public restroom.
A moment later he jumped through again, this time with one Samantha Manson and both teens ran to the center of the bar, looked wildly around the room and called out a name.
"Egon!"
"Peter!"
Then:
"Peter!"
"Egon!"
Then, both at the same time:
"RAY!"
