(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 12:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dead_hooker_2[OOM: Halloween. Neptune California, 2002. The more things change, the more they remain the same. That's the problem with patterns. Angst and unpleasantness ahead.]
Jan. 8th, 2007
dead_hooker_2
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:25 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
action-antihero.livejournal.com[OOM: Preston is escorted into the cells after his fight with Suzi. (ongoing)]
[ooc: Security members, see the note in the back room.]
[ooc: Security members, see the note in the back room.]
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 03:25 aminquisitiveheroHenry was bouncing around the rafters, practicing, flipping, twisting, dodging imaginary shots and hurled items, and generally putting himself through a lot of hardship to exercise his muscles and instincts.
He moved and dodged and danced, almost, though he would not have admitted to knowing any kind of dance. He moved across the rafters, as he exercised and bounced and dodged, and when he finally stopped, he was short of breath, and smiling.
"Not bad... not bad at all."
He settled near where he had set up his water and some snacks and stretched out, getting the muscles to cool down slowly, not fast.
A nice beginning to his day.
He moved and dodged and danced, almost, though he would not have admitted to knowing any kind of dance. He moved across the rafters, as he exercised and bounced and dodged, and when he finally stopped, he was short of breath, and smiling.
"Not bad... not bad at all."
He settled near where he had set up his water and some snacks and stretched out, getting the muscles to cool down slowly, not fast.
A nice beginning to his day.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:20 amsime-channel.livejournal.comThere is nothing at all out of the ordinary in this entry post. Just Suzi Darley, a book, and a cup of tea.
Alright, so the tea is cut with fosbine, and she's got a lovely impression of Mr. John Preston's fist taking up a large chunk of her face, but other than that things are, in fact, perfectly normal.
((Time to flee to classes. Will pick up tags later!))
Alright, so the tea is cut with fosbine, and she's got a lovely impression of Mr. John Preston's fist taking up a large chunk of her face, but other than that things are, in fact, perfectly normal.
((Time to flee to classes. Will pick up tags later!))
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:27 amvaapadmaster.livejournal.comComing out of the painting that connects Milliways to the House of Arch, Mace Windu heads to the bar, ordering his usual breakfast of tea, toast, and a fruit salad. Upon taking possession of those, he transfers himself to a table, where the Jedi can get busy with nourishment, and a level of idleness he indulges once in a while.
Why, yes, he would be open for conversation and meeting new people, as well as his usual acquaintances.
Why, yes, he would be open for conversation and meeting new people, as well as his usual acquaintances.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:38 amworks-in-space.livejournal.comPersonal log, stardate unknown. Unknowable. After several weeks in this strange place called Milliways, I am still no closer to finding a way to return to my own timeline. It has become increasingly clear the guiding force or forces that brought me and the other inhabitants of the anomaly here wish me to either serve a greater purpose or receive some sort of lesson. I do not enjoy being treated like a student, and yet I cannot say that, compared to other such experiences, that this one is as unpleasant. Jim feels better being able to at least record his impressions. An echo, no doubt, of a career spent keeping records of his every experience. He pauses and wonders about the irony of a veteran instructor at the Academy being the student now. I remain determined to find a way home, but I am quite certain that what I want will not resolve the situation..
Jim turns off the recorder and stares out the window. At least, as chaotic as that view is, he can understand what he's seeing, name some of the phenomena. But at the same time, he longs to be out there. It would be, to paraphrase a book he still fondly recalls, an awfully big adventure.
[ooc: slowtime possible for work]
Jim turns off the recorder and stares out the window. At least, as chaotic as that view is, he can understand what he's seeing, name some of the phenomena. But at the same time, he longs to be out there. It would be, to paraphrase a book he still fondly recalls, an awfully big adventure.
[ooc: slowtime possible for work]
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:14 amundignifiedWes wanders in through the front door (of course he got unbound, you just didn't see him leave), but stops momentarily when he realises where he is. Then he dances over to Bar, to the tune of the Taanabian song he's humming ... in his head.
Because he can.
"Glass of Whyren's, pl-- no, wait, some of that Jack Daniels stuff, with, ah, I forget -- Coke, that's it -- thanks, darlin'."
Hey, he feels like something different.
Because he can.
"Glass of Whyren's, pl-- no, wait, some of that Jack Daniels stuff, with, ah, I forget -- Coke, that's it -- thanks, darlin'."
Hey, he feels like something different.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:32 amnight-hibiscus.livejournal.comYuna came in somewhere along the line this morning, and staked out a table near the fire. She's still there now, reading a slim novel with an impressionistic cover. It's either an enormous flock of birds obscuring a landscape or a fragmented portrait of a sad woman with mismatched eyes.
There's also a rosary wrapped around one hand, which she's absently ticking through with the air of someone who's been doing it all her life, and a cross on a chain curled up on the table in front of her.
Surprisingly, one doesn't have much to do with the other.
There's also a rosary wrapped around one hand, which she's absently ticking through with the air of someone who's been doing it all her life, and a cross on a chain curled up on the table in front of her.
Surprisingly, one doesn't have much to do with the other.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 12:03 pmmilkbonesoldier.livejournal.comWells comes in from the Slayer Academy, looking maybe marginally more pleased than usual. The girls are doing better today, after all.
Alas, the smile slides right off his face as a smell he hasn't picked up in ages hits his nostrils. He mutters something under his breath and heads for the bar. "Pint of Bass," he says, "and... huh." Unless he misses his guess, Preston's trail heads off towards the back area- staff and cells and such- and doesn't come out. "Someone from Security, if there's anyone about."
He'll talk to others in the meantime, of course, but he could do with someone on Security first.
Alas, the smile slides right off his face as a smell he hasn't picked up in ages hits his nostrils. He mutters something under his breath and heads for the bar. "Pint of Bass," he says, "and... huh." Unless he misses his guess, Preston's trail heads off towards the back area- staff and cells and such- and doesn't come out. "Someone from Security, if there's anyone about."
He'll talk to others in the meantime, of course, but he could do with someone on Security first.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 12:05 pmsosectu-rior.livejournal.comIlyana was downstairs with her sketchpad and a set of watercolor pencils. She'd started drawing the Bar's interior, along with a few of the patrons. She had a knack for it, though she'd never do this for a living. Drawing or painting are pastimes she'd enjoyed at home. It made a good excuse to peoplewatch for a little while.
Her door was still there, but she's feeling less uneasy about that after a few days. It had been a day of good news, almost nothing would be able to make her feel 'down' just now.
Her door was still there, but she's feeling less uneasy about that after a few days. It had been a day of good news, almost nothing would be able to make her feel 'down' just now.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 01:15 pmkrisofvaldemar.livejournal.com[oom: A Herald's choice]
Kris came downstairs, red-eyed, looking as if he hadn't gone near sleep. He turned toward the door, or the spot where it should be.
Still nothing. The way out remained invisible.
He shut his eyes for a long moment.
The Herald tucked something into his pocket, expression turning utterly blank. The sort of look he might have before running someone through. His other hand was clenched so tight that there were bloody gouges left in his palm.
He went to the Bar, whispering harshly in Valdemaren. There was a long pause, and then
a half-full glass of something fiery and alcoholic appeared.
He took it and went off to a corner, his eyes still cold.
Bother at your own risk.
Kris came downstairs, red-eyed, looking as if he hadn't gone near sleep. He turned toward the door, or the spot where it should be.
Still nothing. The way out remained invisible.
He shut his eyes for a long moment.
The Herald tucked something into his pocket, expression turning utterly blank. The sort of look he might have before running someone through. His other hand was clenched so tight that there were bloody gouges left in his palm.
He went to the Bar, whispering harshly in Valdemaren. There was a long pause, and then
a half-full glass of something fiery and alcoholic appeared.
He took it and went off to a corner, his eyes still cold.
Bother at your own risk.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 01:29 pmfran-goldsmith.livejournal.comFran's by the fireplace, a small pile of brightly colored papers in her lap. A few of them have been folded into cranes or other shapes already. She's got a glass of iced tea, and textbooks, but those will wait a few minutes. She's been studying her head off as it is.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:04 pmhcliffhuxtable.livejournal.comCliff's occupied with something called a "Sudoku puzzle."
How's it going?
Well, let's put it this way: the eraser at the end of his pencil is getting a SERIOUS workout.
So is the coffee thermos next to him.
Come chat before he misplaces his mind, if it isn't too late already.
How's it going?
Well, let's put it this way: the eraser at the end of his pencil is getting a SERIOUS workout.
So is the coffee thermos next to him.
Come chat before he misplaces his mind, if it isn't too late already.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:12 pmkeyblade-girl.livejournal.com[ Pre-milliways - on Destiny island.]
Standing just inside the front door of her house, Kairi pauses for a moment to take stock. Uniform? Check. Shoes? Check. Hair brushed? Check. Bookbag with last night's homework? Check.
"I'm leaving." she calls over her shoulder, as she turns the handle on the door.
Which doesn't open to the streaming sunlight she saw just a moment ago, staring out the kitchen window. Where is the sand? Where is the water? Where are the birds and the coconut trees?
"...what?"
She takes a tentative step forward.
And just like that, she's somewhere else.
Maybe some kind soul will take pity on her...
Standing just inside the front door of her house, Kairi pauses for a moment to take stock. Uniform? Check. Shoes? Check. Hair brushed? Check. Bookbag with last night's homework? Check.
"I'm leaving." she calls over her shoulder, as she turns the handle on the door.
Which doesn't open to the streaming sunlight she saw just a moment ago, staring out the kitchen window. Where is the sand? Where is the water? Where are the birds and the coconut trees?
"...what?"
She takes a tentative step forward.
And just like that, she's somewhere else.
Maybe some kind soul will take pity on her...
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:16 pmfallen-april.livejournal.comApril is sitting sideways in an armchair, her head resting on one armrest and her legs draped over the other one. She's reading Soul Music again and making a mental note to bug Mark about seeing the videos Angel took last year.
The kitten's back again - April couldn't leave her upstairs alone again - and is curled up napping on April's stomach.
Bothering is not only welcomed but highly encouraged.
The kitten's back again - April couldn't leave her upstairs alone again - and is curled up napping on April's stomach.
Bothering is not only welcomed but highly encouraged.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:42 pmcaptainryan.livejournal.comRyan's in the bar grabbing a (late) breakfast. His hands are now completely healed from the other day's activities, so he's thinking of heading up to the workshop once he's done.
He's his usual reserved self, so botherable if not necessarily friendly.
He's his usual reserved self, so botherable if not necessarily friendly.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:45 pmhearthethoughts.livejournal.comWhen your wife's cheated on you and you don't really go home? Where do you go? What do you do? who can you turn to?
Why, the bar at the end of the Universe of course!
So there's a cop who fits most of that criteria sitting at a table near the window with bar's facsmilie!taco bell. He's got two spicy chicken soft tacos and two baja chalupas. Chances are, the smell of poorly prepared Mexican will be wafting from his table.
He's debating asking the bar for something decent. Hell, he knows good Mexican. He's from California. This stuff, in true taco bell fashion, looks like something pulled from the engine of a car.
No disrespect to tacobell fans.
Why, the bar at the end of the Universe of course!
So there's a cop who fits most of that criteria sitting at a table near the window with bar's facsmilie!taco bell. He's got two spicy chicken soft tacos and two baja chalupas. Chances are, the smell of poorly prepared Mexican will be wafting from his table.
He's debating asking the bar for something decent. Hell, he knows good Mexican. He's from California. This stuff, in true taco bell fashion, looks like something pulled from the engine of a car.
No disrespect to tacobell fans.
Grabbing a bite to eat. And a book.
Jan. 8th, 2007 03:02 pmcallitavesper.livejournal.comFor some reason, after exercising in the gym and running a few laps outside by the lake, James did not feel like socializing, so it was with an eye for heading right back upstairs that he walked towards the bar and ordered a lunch to go. Everything on the plate looked appetizing--except the book that came with it (not because it didn't look interesting; it's a book, and unless you are a goat, books are not very tasty).
The book was a small mass market paperback with an orange cover. At the center was a dark cobalt blue stripe with the book's title written in cursive yellow text. There was artwork on the cover, most prominent of which was a drawing of a beautiful brunette dressed in a simple black dress. Behind her head and her legs were six cards, three cards at the top and three at the bottom, and to her right was a small inlet of three people playing an unidentified card game. Only one of them was in light: a man with dark hair and a botwie.
Above the blue strip was the name of the author, Ian Fleming, in bold, thin text. Besides the name "Ian," the number "007" stood in burgundy text, over which was imposed a smaller white text: "A JAMES BOND NOVEL." The yellow cursive text in the blue strip read Casino Royale; beneath the text was a white spiked circle with red text reading "NOW A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE."
James Bond's reaction was this: First :O! Then >:)!!!
With food and book in tow, James made a hasty retreat to his room.
[ ooc: not an entry post, just a mun-is-being-evil-and-silly post. ]
The book was a small mass market paperback with an orange cover. At the center was a dark cobalt blue stripe with the book's title written in cursive yellow text. There was artwork on the cover, most prominent of which was a drawing of a beautiful brunette dressed in a simple black dress. Behind her head and her legs were six cards, three cards at the top and three at the bottom, and to her right was a small inlet of three people playing an unidentified card game. Only one of them was in light: a man with dark hair and a botwie.
Above the blue strip was the name of the author, Ian Fleming, in bold, thin text. Besides the name "Ian," the number "007" stood in burgundy text, over which was imposed a smaller white text: "A JAMES BOND NOVEL." The yellow cursive text in the blue strip read Casino Royale; beneath the text was a white spiked circle with red text reading "NOW A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE."
James Bond's reaction was this: First :O! Then >:)!!!
With food and book in tow, James made a hasty retreat to his room.
[ ooc: not an entry post, just a mun-is-being-evil-and-silly post. ]
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 03:18 pmlvpd_sidleSeeing Sara engrossed in reading something isn't unusual.
The choice of reading material, however, is. It has nothing to do with physics or forensic techniques.
She's eyeing a page the way one would a diagram of a puppy-mutilation factory.
".....I don't care if the flowers clash with the tablecloths."
Ah. Planning weddings is such fun.
[ooc: Mun heading home.]
The choice of reading material, however, is. It has nothing to do with physics or forensic techniques.
She's eyeing a page the way one would a diagram of a puppy-mutilation factory.
".....I don't care if the flowers clash with the tablecloths."
Ah. Planning weddings is such fun.
[ooc: Mun heading home.]
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 03:26 pmallican-do.livejournal.comKatara is sitting at a table in the bar, a cup of milk tea to the side of her.
Because right in front of her are two little dolls - one of which bears a startling resemblance to herself, the other to Mike the Turtle. Smiling slightly, she's not so much playing with them as inspecting them.
...Maybe she's playing a little. Shut up.
Because right in front of her are two little dolls - one of which bears a startling resemblance to herself, the other to Mike the Turtle. Smiling slightly, she's not so much playing with them as inspecting them.
...Maybe she's playing a little. Shut up.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 05:13 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/Just passing through, gathered loot neatly vanished, except the beads tucked into the center of his curled hand, they're what really matters.
Just passing through.
Of course, he can spare a moment for a drink of water. Might as well. There's not much around for a good while in any direction where he's going back to, so he makes it a bottle he can keep in the front of the car.
Just passing through.
Of course, he can spare a moment for a drink of water. Might as well. There's not much around for a good while in any direction where he's going back to, so he makes it a bottle he can keep in the front of the car.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 06:08 pmnot_that_spikeHe might not look so tough right now, but he's still capable of causing a hell of a lot of damage without ever letting Junior out of his arms. Fortunately, things at the House of Arch have been nice and calm; they're settled in and pretty damn happy over there. So when he steps through the portrait into the bar, Beth Junior safely with him, he smiles softly: it's been a while since he's had a night down here with his little aijou. She's wide awake, still-blue eyes open, taking it all in from her perch on his shoulder.
"Yeah, Junior. See that over there? It's the fireplace. That's where your mom and I roasted s'mores and read poetry. And see that yellow couch? Not the most comfortable place to make out, but it's great for sitting. Want to go over there now?" It's one of his favorite places in the bar, and while Junior's been there a ton of times, she's still so little she probably has no fucking idea where she's been. So he heads over there with her, extra diapers and rattles and shit like that in his ISSP waistpack. It's what he's got, and he's always been pretty damn good at making the best out of what he's got.
He's being a pretty good dad: the safety's latched on his gun and he hasn't even taken his smokes and lighter out of his pocket. Some things just have to change, and there's nothing like a baby to force a guy's hand.
"Yeah, Junior. See that over there? It's the fireplace. That's where your mom and I roasted s'mores and read poetry. And see that yellow couch? Not the most comfortable place to make out, but it's great for sitting. Want to go over there now?" It's one of his favorite places in the bar, and while Junior's been there a ton of times, she's still so little she probably has no fucking idea where she's been. So he heads over there with her, extra diapers and rattles and shit like that in his ISSP waistpack. It's what he's got, and he's always been pretty damn good at making the best out of what he's got.
He's being a pretty good dad: the safety's latched on his gun and he hasn't even taken his smokes and lighter out of his pocket. Some things just have to change, and there's nothing like a baby to force a guy's hand.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 06:13 pmalorn-bear.livejournal.comWhat's Latin for 'rafters'? Because deus ex machina would only work right now if Belar were a) using a machine and b) came out of it. He's not. He's just picked out one of the rafters, and he's seated on it with his legs dangling over one side.
He's got potato skins with melted cheese and bacon. Gods do not worry about cholesterol.
He's enjoying the view immensely.
He's got potato skins with melted cheese and bacon. Gods do not worry about cholesterol.
He's enjoying the view immensely.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 06:40 pmstill_goldenIt's a surprise again when the door to the cafe turns out to lead to Milliways. Jen hesitates in the threshold, remembering the warning she was given last time she came here.
After a moment, though, she steps inside (checking the door behind her, which opens easily), and heads for a table. A quick word to a waitrat, and soon she's settled in with coffee, taking in the bustle around her.
After a moment, though, she steps inside (checking the door behind her, which opens easily), and heads for a table. A quick word to a waitrat, and soon she's settled in with coffee, taking in the bustle around her.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 06:49 pmmnt_mikeOver by the stereo system stands an anthropomorphic turtle breaking the laws of physics. Now that's not to say that he's floating against the pull of gravity, or that he's somehow gotten the sticky bits out of the whole "cold fusion" thing, no what we're really trying to say here is that he's currently the loudest dressed Ninja in the Multi-verse.
And for reasons that defy the laws of nature Herself, it works for him.
Who knew that orange was effective Cammo?
Certainly, not the narrator, that's for sure.
Anyway, back to the stereo system. From out of one of the numerous pockets of his turtle-sized cargo shorts, Mike produces an cassett tape. We'll be having none of that CD/iPod nonsense, thankyouverymuch. He's just about to put the tape into the player when he stops to give the room a quick glance over his shoulder.
Perfect. Just the right crowd...or lack there of. He sides the tape into the player, and hits the right button.
Anybody in the house that knows Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, say HO!
He smiles a bit more, and turns the volume up.
If your guy can't come to you
And you don't remember who your talking to
Your concentration slips away
Because your baby, she is so so far away
Chorus: And there's a rose in a fisted glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you cant be with the one you love
Love the one your with.
Yeah...no. Not yet loud enough.
Don't be angry
Don't be sad
Don't sit cryin' for good times you had
There's a girl right next to you
And she's waiting for something to do
Hmmm.... Let's see if Whistler installed an 11 on this volume dial.
There's a Rose
In a fisted Glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you can't be with the one you love
It's alright
Go ahead and love the one, love the one, love the one yourwith
Love the one, love the one, love the one your with.
Doo-doo do do do doo de doo
Doo-doo do do do doo de doo.
Aww yeah, that's the stuff.
Nothing better to do mindless paper work too, than what could only be called the Official Love Song of Milliways.
Sometimes being the Barman has it's privileges.
And for reasons that defy the laws of nature Herself, it works for him.
Who knew that orange was effective Cammo?
Certainly, not the narrator, that's for sure.
Anyway, back to the stereo system. From out of one of the numerous pockets of his turtle-sized cargo shorts, Mike produces an cassett tape. We'll be having none of that CD/iPod nonsense, thankyouverymuch. He's just about to put the tape into the player when he stops to give the room a quick glance over his shoulder.
Perfect. Just the right crowd...or lack there of. He sides the tape into the player, and hits the right button.
Anybody in the house that knows Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, say HO!
There's a Rose
In a fisted Glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you can't be with the one you love
It's alright
Go ahead and love the one, love the one, love the one your with
Love the one, love the one, love the one your with
He smiles a bit more, and turns the volume up.
If your guy can't come to you
And you don't remember who your talking to
Your concentration slips away
Because your baby, she is so so far away
Chorus: And there's a rose in a fisted glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you cant be with the one you love
Love the one your with.
Yeah...no. Not yet loud enough.
Don't be angry
Don't be sad
Don't sit cryin' for good times you had
There's a girl right next to you
And she's waiting for something to do
Hmmm.... Let's see if Whistler installed an 11 on this volume dial.
There's a Rose
In a fisted Glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you can't be with the one you love
It's alright
Go ahead and love the one, love the one, love the one yourwith
Love the one, love the one, love the one your with.
Doo-doo do do do doo de doo
Doo-doo do do do doo de doo.
Aww yeah, that's the stuff.
Nothing better to do mindless paper work too, than what could only be called the Official Love Song of Milliways.
Sometimes being the Barman has it's privileges.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 06:57 pmalwaysroomforhopeSteph's had a few days in the country, and a lot of long woeful conversations, and lots and lots of icecream. Which means she still feels like discarded rubbish, but she's being productive now and taking it out on everyone else.
C'mon. Start something. It's the graveyard shift, Steph's on duty, see that Security badge? How about some violence? Sex? Business? Give the girl a chance to hit something, go on.
Otherwise she'll just sit there in the rafters swinging her legs and glaring at anyone and everyone who crosses the room beneath her. All. Night. Long.
C'mon. Start something. It's the graveyard shift, Steph's on duty, see that Security badge? How about some violence? Sex? Business? Give the girl a chance to hit something, go on.
Otherwise she'll just sit there in the rafters swinging her legs and glaring at anyone and everyone who crosses the room beneath her. All. Night. Long.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 07:30 pmwaylostandfound.livejournal.comNathan was in the bar again, cleaned up and dressed in neat, but more casual clothing. Happy for not defying the laws of physics anymore, or at least having a choice on it. He'll get back to seeing about controlling his ability. But that's for later. Right now, time to relax with a good meal, and some drinks. Maybe a few. Not to get drunk, just to unwind after being stuck in the air for so long.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 07:56 pmeiattu_prideSo, Rial's in the bar. At the bar, actually, on a barstool. Contemplating a mug full of caf, like he can't quite decide if he should drink it or not. Perfectly ordinary scene. Nothing strange here, oh no.
...well.
It perhaps ought to be noted that Rial is a very glorious shade of purple from toe to tip. Just skin, thankfully, but...still. Anyhow. That's it. Really.
Well.
He's also glowing. It's a decently strong glow, although people can look at him without whipping out sunglasses or tanning lotion. He looks rather like...well, like a glowing purple man.
But that's it.
We promise.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 07:58 pmpwyll_twicebornTime is moving on, in Canada.
Presumably, so is time in Fionavar; but that's not something Paul will know (unless he happens to encounter Jaelle) and it's driving him a little wild. In a controlled fashion, of course.
Galadan comes to this place, and the danger is great - but the temptation to learn what he can, if possible, of what is going on in the world they can't yet reach is stronger. So when he finds himself in Milliways from the coffee house, Paul decides to stay the evening, and takes a seat. Scanning the room in hope, if not expectation.
Presumably, so is time in Fionavar; but that's not something Paul will know (unless he happens to encounter Jaelle) and it's driving him a little wild. In a controlled fashion, of course.
Galadan comes to this place, and the danger is great - but the temptation to learn what he can, if possible, of what is going on in the world they can't yet reach is stronger. So when he finds himself in Milliways from the coffee house, Paul decides to stay the evening, and takes a seat. Scanning the room in hope, if not expectation.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 08:00 pmlivewithrats.livejournal.comSo there's a kitten bouncing happily around near the fireplace, but there's something different about him today.
Attached to his collar is a flower, and it's a very nice looking flower.
It seems that he's looking for someone.
Attached to his collar is a flower, and it's a very nice looking flower.
It seems that he's looking for someone.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 08:11 pmthe_antiangstAt some point when it's capable to be heard over the stereo and at least partly to keep the typist from watching the pot, Angel's in the bar. He's got nothing against testing the limits of the sound system, but it's nice to be able to actually talk to people as well.
He's on a couch by the fire, as is usual this time of year, and he's got some pasta. Company wouldn't be turned down.
He's on a couch by the fire, as is usual this time of year, and he's got some pasta. Company wouldn't be turned down.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 08:11 pmdoctordoogiehowsermdDoogie decided not to go home this time. He has a few dollars, so he stayed in one of the rooms upstairs. He's in his top-hat-skeletons shirt again and he still hasn't tied his shoes.
Happy Hour!
Jan. 8th, 2007 08:47 pmcollects_earsAfter a slightly longer than usual trip away - two weeks exactly - George Cooper is back in the bar. And glad of it.
Back in the bar and ready to take your order.
He makes some additions to the specials board, then announces to the bar: "Tonight's drinks are Kalabreeze, Kona Village Mai Tai, Kosmo and Kung Fu."
Let the man get you a drink. Or something to eat. Or just offer some company.
"What'll it be?"
Back in the bar and ready to take your order.
He makes some additions to the specials board, then announces to the bar: "Tonight's drinks are Kalabreeze, Kona Village Mai Tai, Kosmo and Kung Fu."
Let the man get you a drink. Or something to eat. Or just offer some company.
"What'll it be?"
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 08:49 pmnotjustatoaster.livejournal.comSharon is sitting at the window staring out at the swirling universe.
She is still bound and it's really beginning to get her down. She wants to get home, she never thought she'd miss it but she does.
So she is sitting with a look of longing and sorrow on her face, a large glass of whiskey in her hand and a large chip on her shoulder.
Maybe someone should help take her mind off it all.
She is still bound and it's really beginning to get her down. She wants to get home, she never thought she'd miss it but she does.
So she is sitting with a look of longing and sorrow on her face, a large glass of whiskey in her hand and a large chip on her shoulder.
Maybe someone should help take her mind off it all.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 08:52 pmdr_temperanceThere are 27 bones in the human hand. Skeletally speaking, it is one of the most intricate portions of the body. Which makes reassembling it a painstaking process.
Dr. Temperance Brennan is bent over a stainless steel tray, carefully moving the bones into their proper places. Botherable.
Dr. Temperance Brennan is bent over a stainless steel tray, carefully moving the bones into their proper places. Botherable.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 08:53 pmsong_tra_bongMary Anne's been outside most of this afternoon, practicing with her usual variety of weapons. Now, though, she's looking for a drink, a hot meal, and some company.
Two out of three, she picks up from Bar and carries over to a table. She's hoping the last might come to her.
Two out of three, she picks up from Bar and carries over to a table. She's hoping the last might come to her.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:16 pmcaleb-temple.livejournal.comCaleb Temple is exceedingly proud of himself. He went out and caught himself two whole brook trout on the river today, and really, for a ten year old boy, what could be better than that?
He opens the back door (can't have those fish dripping on the front carpet) and hollers, "Doctor Matt! I caught a couple o' brookies an'....."
Oh.
Caleb Temple is still exceedingly proud of himself. Only now, instead of in his kitchen, he's standing just inside the door to Milliways. And he's carrying fish.
He opens the back door (can't have those fish dripping on the front carpet) and hollers, "Doctor Matt! I caught a couple o' brookies an'....."
Oh.
Caleb Temple is still exceedingly proud of himself. Only now, instead of in his kitchen, he's standing just inside the door to Milliways. And he's carrying fish.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:18 pmguppy_sandhuThe doctor is in
Guppy is eating grapes and going through a pile of paperwork that he really doesn't feel like doing. By the looks of his hair, which is sort of all over the place, he was until recently sleeping, and thus has an interesting sticky up wave of black curls at the back of his head.
Entirely botherable.
Guppy is eating grapes and going through a pile of paperwork that he really doesn't feel like doing. By the looks of his hair, which is sort of all over the place, he was until recently sleeping, and thus has an interesting sticky up wave of black curls at the back of his head.
Entirely botherable.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:36 pmdo-you-fear-me.livejournal.comHere's someone who hasn't had an entrance post in a while.
No particular reason why not; he just hasn't.
But he's still looking for someone, or maybe it's someone else.
Just be glad it's not you he's looking for or there could be trouble.
...oh nevermind; with Rodolphus trouble invariably follows...
No particular reason why not; he just hasn't.
But he's still looking for someone, or maybe it's someone else.
Just be glad it's not you he's looking for or there could be trouble.
...oh nevermind; with Rodolphus trouble invariably follows...
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:44 pmsmart-sam.livejournal.comThere's a Sam sitting in a booth in the bar.
There is, of course, some blue jello.
And, for once, there is not any work!
Instead she has a book.
...granted it's a book on chemical theory, but sometimes you've just got to take what you can get.
There is, of course, some blue jello.
And, for once, there is not any work!
Instead she has a book.
...granted it's a book on chemical theory, but sometimes you've just got to take what you can get.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:49 pmdragonofgrey.livejournal.comDraco's well aware that people are looking for him. He wasn't expecting to leave the House tonight. But there was something he needed to do. So he stopped in, keeping a careful eye out for certain people. He was carrying a pouch with a shiny for one, he owed something to another.
And then there was the third.
...Who was in the bar tonight. Oh Merlin. He ducked into a booth toward the back.
And then there was the third.
...Who was in the bar tonight. Oh Merlin. He ducked into a booth toward the back.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 09:52 pmgonna_liveKaylee, in defiance of all sense and good taste in the cold weather, has a milkshake. A strawberry milkshake.
A very tasty strawberry milkshake.
...of course, it also comes after the bowl of egg drop soup.
She's sitting at a table with a datapad; every so often she'll poke at it with the end of a lacquered chopstick. The other chopstick is in her hair, pulling it back.
A very tasty strawberry milkshake.
...of course, it also comes after the bowl of egg drop soup.
She's sitting at a table with a datapad; every so often she'll poke at it with the end of a lacquered chopstick. The other chopstick is in her hair, pulling it back.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:15 pmblue_razRaziel was sitting in the bar staring at the ceiling. The action didn't seem fast enough for him here, and soon he would have to leave. At least he did like the time off from the stupidity of his unlife. He sat his cloven feet flat on the floor, his ruined wings hanging over the back of the chair.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:17 pmyoung_tmriddleOOM: Tom and Spike find they have much in common in a thread subtitled "reformed evil wizard, meet reformed mob guy"
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:21 pmnot-death-eater.livejournal.comIt's been that long, it has. Long enough for Lucius to grow bored enough with simply watching, and starting to actually pace the floor of the bar. It's uncouth, he knows, but after so long in this damned place-
Lucius Malfoy stop mid pace, his back straight, his face rigid. Slowly, carefully, he sets his foot down in the direction of a turn, giving him the chance to once more glimpse out of the corner of his eye-
The Door.
He recognises it, from this side. Whether from some cruel trick of the Bar, or merely his own malignant luck, the door he sees is exactly the same door that leads to the the receiving room of the Dark Lord.
The same Dark Lord who ordered him to kill his own only child for betraying the cause.
And if he did not do it, it would be his head.
And yet, a sort of calm comes down over Lucius, a relaxed welcoming. He cannot serve the Dark Lord, but he can protect his son.
With a purposeful stride, he moves out the door, and slams it shut behind him.
Lucius Malfoy stop mid pace, his back straight, his face rigid. Slowly, carefully, he sets his foot down in the direction of a turn, giving him the chance to once more glimpse out of the corner of his eye-
The Door.
He recognises it, from this side. Whether from some cruel trick of the Bar, or merely his own malignant luck, the door he sees is exactly the same door that leads to the the receiving room of the Dark Lord.
The same Dark Lord who ordered him to kill his own only child for betraying the cause.
And if he did not do it, it would be his head.
And yet, a sort of calm comes down over Lucius, a relaxed welcoming. He cannot serve the Dark Lord, but he can protect his son.
With a purposeful stride, he moves out the door, and slams it shut behind him.
goinghost.livejournal.comThe door opened of its own accord, like a door left open in the breeze. There had to be some sort of reason for it, just drifting open like that. It certainly wasn't so that people could hear the voices on the other side, even though they could.
"Don't you realize that once you start circulating on the soft rock stations, you're going the way of Milli Vanilli? Give it up."
There was the crackle of some kind of energy blast and the sound of wood breaking.
A young woman's voice, high and disdainful, with an edge to it. It was a commanding kind of voice, like you'd expect from a stage performer.
"--No chance, dipstick! I don't take requests--so how about some heavy metal instead!"
BWAAAAAAAAANG! There was a rather awesome power chord that sounded out and the sound of some sort of metal structure creaking, groaning, and then metal clanging and crashing.
Then the reason the door was open became apparent: the bar was doing someone a favor. Because if it hadn't been open, Danny Phantom would would have gone slamming into something far more solid instead of flying through the door, hitting the floor hard, and skidding to a stop, along with a few metal poles that clanged in after him and bounced off the floor before rolling to a stop.
The door closed behind him, giving him a moment's break to catch his breath, as he got up and rubbed his head.
"I guess I should be glad that at least it wasn't rap."
"Don't you realize that once you start circulating on the soft rock stations, you're going the way of Milli Vanilli? Give it up."
There was the crackle of some kind of energy blast and the sound of wood breaking.
A young woman's voice, high and disdainful, with an edge to it. It was a commanding kind of voice, like you'd expect from a stage performer.
"--No chance, dipstick! I don't take requests--so how about some heavy metal instead!"
BWAAAAAAAAANG! There was a rather awesome power chord that sounded out and the sound of some sort of metal structure creaking, groaning, and then metal clanging and crashing.
Then the reason the door was open became apparent: the bar was doing someone a favor. Because if it hadn't been open, Danny Phantom would would have gone slamming into something far more solid instead of flying through the door, hitting the floor hard, and skidding to a stop, along with a few metal poles that clanged in after him and bounced off the floor before rolling to a stop.
The door closed behind him, giving him a moment's break to catch his breath, as he got up and rubbed his head.
"I guess I should be glad that at least it wasn't rap."
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:47 pmaction-antihero.livejournal.comJack's rubbing his forehead as he comes down from his suite. He hadn't slept well the night before, and his attempt at a nap didn't go so well; both times he'd been jolted awake by nightmares.
Glancing at his watch, he sees that he's got a little while before he lets Preston out of the cells, so he heads over to the bar, taking a seat. Before he can even ask there are a couple of Tylenol and a glass of water on top of the bar, and he gives Bar a pat. "Thanks. Could I get a sandwich and a cup of coffee, too?"
The sandwich appears, but instead of coffee, there's a tall glass of orange juice next to his plate. Oh well. With Bar, you win some and you lose some.
Glancing at his watch, he sees that he's got a little while before he lets Preston out of the cells, so he heads over to the bar, taking a seat. Before he can even ask there are a couple of Tylenol and a glass of water on top of the bar, and he gives Bar a pat. "Thanks. Could I get a sandwich and a cup of coffee, too?"
The sandwich appears, but instead of coffee, there's a tall glass of orange juice next to his plate. Oh well. With Bar, you win some and you lose some.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:51 pmbadinlatinMal is inna bar.
Possibly knitting. Or possibly just trying to untangle the knot he made in his yarn.
Come say hi.
[ooc: ping 'stephmuji' before tagging?]
Possibly knitting. Or possibly just trying to untangle the knot he made in his yarn.
Come say hi.
[ooc: ping 'stephmuji' before tagging?]
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:58 pmdontlooklisten.livejournal.comSuzi was down here earlier, which is all right by Whistler since he knows John Preston was locked up in the cells. He's pretty sure the guy's due to get out soon, though, so he'd like to be around just in case. Not that one blind guy and a puppy can do much about physical protection, given that the blind guy in question is not Zatoichi, but he figures he has to at least try.
Joy, for her part, spent most of today running around like a maniac outside or being taught obedience-school tricks, so right now she's sleeping at the basket near Whistler's feet.
Joy, for her part, spent most of today running around like a maniac outside or being taught obedience-school tricks, so right now she's sleeping at the basket near Whistler's feet.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:00 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_mother_dearest/Out of Milliways:
Out by the lake, Lyrae and Makita have girl-talk about all the usual things: dresses, appearances, swords, and physics.
Out by the lake, Lyrae and Makita have girl-talk about all the usual things: dresses, appearances, swords, and physics.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:13 pmkurosakiboy.livejournal.comIchigo's feeling good for a change as he enters the bar today. Things are going his way, training is getting easier by the day, and he's still got room to grow. He's stronger, maybe even strong enough, and it seems he still has plenty of time to train anyways.
Life is, it seems, throwing him a bone.
Clearly, as he sits down at the bar, this requires celebration.
Ice cream it is!
Life is, it seems, throwing him a bone.
Clearly, as he sits down at the bar, this requires celebration.
Ice cream it is!
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:14 pmnot-death-eater.livejournal.com((OOM: Lucius gets himself in trouble. Lots of Trouble. No real warnings for the oom, but the entrance shall be bloody.))
There is a thud, on the other side of the door, then a second one, and then the door falls open, allowing a body to pass through, impacting the floor with a dead thud.
There once was long beautiful hair. There is now a a burnt and blistered head. Once had been a face that could be called royal, if not handsome. Not much of this remains, only the forehead having been saved. And even that is neatly marred by the words "BLOOD TRAITOR" carved across it. His robes, once worn with pride, have been ripped and ruined, the limbs beneath it burned and scarred and bruised, carved with obscene insults. Worst of all, where once a heart had been, there is now gaping hole.
But even as the body lays there, it grows less obscene, the blood drying up and simply vanishing. Before long, the earthly remains of Lucius Malfoy find themselves sitting up. And he knows. He has one last chance to say goodbye, before his true end.
((OOC:This will be Lucius Last post, he'll be leaving the bar permanently at the end of it. He's had his run here at Milliways, and is going out with style.))
There is a thud, on the other side of the door, then a second one, and then the door falls open, allowing a body to pass through, impacting the floor with a dead thud.
There once was long beautiful hair. There is now a a burnt and blistered head. Once had been a face that could be called royal, if not handsome. Not much of this remains, only the forehead having been saved. And even that is neatly marred by the words "BLOOD TRAITOR" carved across it. His robes, once worn with pride, have been ripped and ruined, the limbs beneath it burned and scarred and bruised, carved with obscene insults. Worst of all, where once a heart had been, there is now gaping hole.
But even as the body lays there, it grows less obscene, the blood drying up and simply vanishing. Before long, the earthly remains of Lucius Malfoy find themselves sitting up. And he knows. He has one last chance to say goodbye, before his true end.
((OOC:This will be Lucius Last post, he'll be leaving the bar permanently at the end of it. He's had his run here at Milliways, and is going out with style.))
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:24 pmfighting_mad[OOM: On Eiattu, millitimed around all things purple, there are coronations to consider and freedoms to celebrate.]
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:41 pmiustus_rexEdmund's notebook is open, showing a half-made list in the tidy, cramped handwriting of someone who endured any number of penmanship lessons. Every so often he adds another item: Pastels (messy) or Group mural? (ask Tom or Door) or Fingerpainting (messier, but good when they're excited)
Mostly, though, he's neglecting this list in favor of sketching. (And, of course, tea.) What's taking shape now, over loose pencil outlines, is a pen-and-ink drawing of the lake in warmer weather. Caspian's Hope and the Black Pearl are the most prominant and detailed, the focus of the scene, and there's a strange quality to some of the trees, almost as though the rough bark and leaves were masking faces and limbs.
Mostly, though, he's neglecting this list in favor of sketching. (And, of course, tea.) What's taking shape now, over loose pencil outlines, is a pen-and-ink drawing of the lake in warmer weather. Caspian's Hope and the Black Pearl are the most prominant and detailed, the focus of the scene, and there's a strange quality to some of the trees, almost as though the rough bark and leaves were masking faces and limbs.
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2007 11:44 pmpoisonwineBelladonna, beautiful and powerful leader of the Assasin's guild walks into the bar. She looks around, slightly confused. "Luc! You done somet'in' with the bar?"
A quick look around tells her this is no normal place. But it does seem. . .oddly familiar. Belle walks back out and calls Gris Gris, telling him to lock down her house for the night.
Belladonna walks back in, and over to the bar, taking a stool. She orders a Southern Comfort, and sips it, watching the various goings-on. She'd seen this place one time before, and had always thought that a dream.
A quick look around tells her this is no normal place. But it does seem. . .oddly familiar. Belle walks back out and calls Gris Gris, telling him to lock down her house for the night.
Belladonna walks back in, and over to the bar, taking a stool. She orders a Southern Comfort, and sips it, watching the various goings-on. She'd seen this place one time before, and had always thought that a dream.
