milliways_bar | Jan. 15th, 2007

Jan. 15th, 2007

armoralchemy.livejournal.com

Alphonse enters Bar wearing a very similar outfit to the one his brother used to wear, but it's different...really....it's different in way's that can't be seen... but it's different; and that's all that matters...

So Alphonse enters Bar with a sad smile on his face.

"Hello Bar, what is it with you and trains?"

He says to no one in praticular.

Finding an empty booth near with a good view of the door is difficult but he manages.

So there is a young alchemist with his head between his hands in a booth, glancing up from his contemplations every time someone enters.

Totally botherable, and in definite need of cheering up.

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM: As of earlier today, there's a note posted in the Security office.]

stbethadettes

(January 13th: the bounty hunter proves himself, and the baby won't sleep.)

maxwellsdemon02

[OOM: Christmas with Heero.

and

Solo agent.

This has been 'OOMs I Should Have Posted Two Weeks Ago', the evening edition.]

gorlim.livejournal.com

He hasn't been here in quite some time. Since his "death" and rebirth, he has come here less frequently, having found his home. He has been slowly regaining his memories of his life, as well.

Yet sometimes, doors open, and even the mighty are summoned to the end of all worlds.

He chuckles softly to himself as he steps through the door that will never disappear again. He walks to the bar and sits at a stool. He doesn't remember himself here, but here he is again. Things come full-circle, always.

He puts his hands on the bar and silently asks for a drink -- apricot brandy. He is surprised when she gives him also an apricot pastry with a little candle stuck in it. He laughs and blows it out.

"Happy birthday to me. Thank you, milady."

He did remember when he was born after all. And he's remembered his mother's name, and his sisters' faces, and he's remembered the pet sheep he kept as a child in Dorthonion.

And he's remembered the smell of the wind, and the shape of forever back when all it took to touch Time itself was determination and a good hiding place.

He sits at the bar, munching the pastry happily, and watches how things have grown. There are many new faces, and as he scans them all, one of them at least catches his attention. A familiarity in a stranger's poise and appearance. Himself, more than a year ago.

And I'm the one who stays.

( ooc )

happy-footed.livejournal.com

A penguin walks into a bar.

"Ow...!"

It's a very low bar. It also happens to be in a bar. And the bar that isn't a drinking establishment isn't so much a bar as a dowel between chairlegs that was called a bar in order to make a bad joke. This is sad. As is the penguin rubbing his noggin with one flipper.

Nah. The penguin's just sort of cute. He does, however, look a little confused as to what he's doing here again in the Land of Not Cold Brown Ice That's Not Ice and Featherless Penguins Who Aren't Penguins.

Current Mood: confused

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

There is a man asleep on a couch with his legs hooked over the back of it and a little boy curled up on his chest, asleep as well. There's also a young wolf, sleeping just under the man's head in a little furry ball on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

You might be polite and leave them be, but those are long legs hanging over that couch. It would be pretty easy to brush them as you pass by.

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

[OOM: Knox gets a phone call.]

musicintherain.livejournal.com

No one ever expects Milliways for the first time, and Zenobia is no exception. She opens the door and walks in, a little thing dressed (and this is important, or at least noticable) in a heavy tan skirt with a brown tunic and a pale brown headscarf covering her hair and the lower part of her face.

No one ever really expects the Observation Window, and Milliways's newest vampire isn't about to change that. It is impossible to see her expression, but her eyes widen and she goes very, very still. Too still, maybe, but the door slams shut behind her and she jumps.

"Um..."

jack_inthegreen

Jack has a bebbehdivinity on each arm. Georgia is adjusting to no longer being The Only Baby, but not necessarily happily, though Keiran is doing his best to win her over. Of course, there's not much he can do aside from gurgle and grab, but let's hear it for effort.

Jack is just amused by it all. He knows already how close they're going to be as they get older, so a little bit of rivalry doesn't worry him at all.

He settles in to give them--and himself--a little lunch. Porridge for Georgia, bottle for Keiran, apple pie for himself.

forge-fire.livejournal.com

There's a fire god by the fire, eating olives and bread and cheese and sipping on wine.

Minimalism, sure, but he's a minimalist sort of god when it comes to words.

That said, it might be noticed that the fire in the fireplace isn't so much reflected in his eyes as seems to extend there.

abar-starclog.livejournal.com

"Hey Bar, could I get a burger and... this is gonna sound weird, but can I have a rubber band too? Thanks."
The rubber band's going on Carl's notebook, later. It's the best way he can think of to keep Mother out of the back of his notebook, and now that he's got some things about the bar in there? Anything to prevent another inadvertent freak-out. (He's not going home until later, but if he didn't get that now, there was a decent chance he'd forget.)
He takes his lunch to a table, once he has it, and sets about eating it and people-watching.

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

[OOM: (canon spoilers for eps One Giant Leap, Collision, and Hiros
Millitimed to two weekends ago, Nathan gets informed about a book, and holds a fundraiser where family secrets and 'secrets' come to light.

Millitimed to last weekend: Nathan's trip to Vegas isn't as quiet as he thought it was going to be. Plus, great night, but a very rude awakening courtesy of HRG and the Haitian, only to have Nathan escape..]

agnes_nitt

The Friday-Sunday-Monday work schedule is pretty nice in that it leaves her most of the week free. And at least Agnes doesn't have a Monday morning right behind a Sunday evening. But it's still taking some getting used to, being in a regular job all of a sudden.

But none of that shows on her face when she comes downstairs, bundled in coat, and puts her name (still Angie) back up on the specials board as the afternoon's server.

Milliways waitress on duty. Bother at will. After all, it's her job.

scion-of-amber.livejournal.com

Fiona has been in the Bar for a little bit, but after finishing her Moscow Mule (thanks to Mal), she has retreated somewhat. A booth, well-lit, and she's curled up with a book.

Perhaps Milliways isn't the best place to read, but sometimes you just need to be surrounded by people.

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

((OOM: The old dream.))

Archie's in the bar today, looking... like he hasn't for a very long time. For one thing, he's dressed himself in his full uniform, from the white knee breeches, to the little black cravat. For another thing, he's sitting over by the Observation windows with a bottle and a glass, slowly drinking himself blind. It's been two years. Every once in a while his hand moves unconsiously to a spot on his chest, low on the left side, as if it still pains him. It is an odd sort of celebration, but it gets him through.

He may not look it, but he'd love some company.

((OOC: The mun must head to work now, slowtimes are love though, and anyone who would like to is more than welcome to tag. I'll respond when I'm home!))

evryinchbut1.livejournal.com

Valerie's shift doesn't start until later, so there's plenty of time to come relax in the bar for a while. Bar provides her with a generous mug of tea and, at her request, a copy of The Tempest. Laden thus, she takes a chair near the fire and settles in.

oldromansaint.livejournal.com

Surely you didn't miss Santino moving into the bar, bringing with him a draught of thoroughly warm air before the door closed behind him.

He sat at an empty table, people-watching.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

When Harry opens the door to the Bar this time, he pauses on the threshold, expression wary.

... no singing. Good.

Now he can come in and get supper. He's been running himself ragged lately with the girls' lessons. Something occurs to him before he can sit down, though; he gets paper and pencil from Bar and heads over to the message board to tack up the following sign.

There are werewolves here at Milliways who use the woods on full moon nights. Do yourself a favour and stay AWAY from the woods on the following nights:

February 1st - 3rd, March 2nd - 4th, April 1st - 3rd, May 1st - 3rd, May 30th - June 1st, June 29th - July 1st, August 27th - 29th, September 25th - 27th, October 25th - 27th, November 23rd - 25th, December 22nd - 24th.

Thank you.

That being stuck up for people to see, he's going to get his supper now, then look for some people.

dr_temperance

Piecing a skull back together is a long, slow, tedious process. Add the fact that, according to Brennan’s internal clock, it should be about 2:00 AM, and it’s no surprise that she’s sitting with her head resting on folded arms. The repaired skull, complete with tissue markers, sits on the table, along with an empty coffee mug, a plate with a few scattered crumbs, and a large bottle of Elmer’s glue.

She could pretty easily doze off. However, if she does, she’s going to wake up with one heck of a crick in her neck, so bothering would be good.

eiattu_pride

Dear Livejournal;

Still purple and glowing. Have not left the bar for fear of ridicule and/or use as a floor lamp during late night sabacc games held by bodyguards. Have strong suspicion that wife finds all this v. amusing and does not share my pain, as evidenced by loud giggles and attempts to see if purple color comes off (not all bad, however, given that some methods have been...pleasurable). Am holding up well, however, and hope to find a cure before the week is out.

If not, may be forced to wear large sheet to coronation and claim embarrassing rash.

Mood: Bored
Music: Sounds effects from small and pointless game on datapad

This is not, in fact, what Rial Pernon is writing.

This is, in fact, what Rial Pernon is thinking (minus the Livejournal bit.

Probably.)

But don't let that deter you. He doesn't bite, honest. And the purple isn't contagious.

[ooc: sadly, must run! but i shall be back later, feel free to tag]

talkstohats

[OOM: In which Sophie becomes Howl's old mother.

A visit to Kingsbury begins with a call on Mrs. Pentstemmon.

Dialogue and events taken from Howl's Moving Castle.]

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

[[OOM: Molly's letters to her unborn baby(continued).]]

runmakitarun.livejournal.com

Ever since she spent a few days without her coat, Makita has been trying to find a better method for carrying her gear than stuffing it all in her coat pockets. She finally managed to work out a sketched design that no one but a magical bar could possibly have interpreted.

Fortunately there happens to be a magical bar here, so Makita has a leather harness on the table in front of her that she's repeatedly adjusting and trying it on, attempting to get it to fit properly.

It's not really a time-critical job, so a little distraction would not be unwelcome.

mogget_cat

A pair of pale bare feet are occupying the back of the couch.

The rest of him is down here, with a book, a cup of tea and a calico cat curled up on his stomach.

Yes, be jealous.

moreweknow.livejournal.com

Kate's been here. Observing things, hanging around in the background. It's almost as if she's used to it, being noticed only when needed.

Weird, huh?

But she's a little less in the background today; she's sitting at a table with coffee and a notebook, the latter having been acquired at some point (and already being half-full).

She'd be happy to talk to anyone.

captainryan.livejournal.com

As predicted, the dagger didn't last through its first throw. Thus, there is now a Ryan reading up on methods to improve the strength of blades.

If you know something he doesn't, he'd be glad to be bothered.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

There was a letter that he needed to write. He wasn't looking forward to it. He'd likely be believed. At least by the reciepant since he was there. The only other eyewitness, and people like

him

. Because he's the sodding Chosen One, one of prophecy apparently. A lot of rubbish, but HE believed it. So they had to go along with it.
He tried riding on his broom out back, but it hadn't help.

Now Draco was brooding in a quiet corner of the bar, a few books and scrolls on strategy by him. Also that book Ranger gave him months back. About the two beings who were enemies, and later friends.
Hah, like that ever really happens.

Care to poke or distract him?

princeinexile

If you didn't think Zuko could get anymore grumpy, think again.

It's been a long couple of weeks; his temper is short and his plans are-- well, not plans at all. More like seeds, hopes, dreams-- something he wants to do, but has no idea how to accomplish. How does he regroup and regain himself in Ba Sing Se? How does he gain resources? How does he prevent himself from simply wasting away as a peasant tea-slinging refugee instead of going home with honor?

How does it make it all work?

From the fact that he just pitched a scroll at the fire place and dropped back against the couch, covering his face with his hands, Zuko has no idea how he's going to do anything anymore. The fire leaps and crackles wildly, his rage fueling the flames.

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

At the bar: Nine copies of the March 14, 1990 Gotham City tabloid PM, with one smiling Alexander Knox.

Come say hi.

Current Mood: jubilant

1st_starfighter

Alex was downstairs again, wandering, trying to not flinch everytime someone or something new and different walked by. He had been here a few days now(to his knowledge), and was starting to try to ease his toe into this place. Edging into it without jumping in wasn't easy, but he was determined not to stick to hiding in his room or the simulator room all the time.

So, here he was, and when he saw an unoccupied booth, he slipped into it, slid to the back edge, and just sat there, breathing slowly, just trying to stay calm.

A wait rat caught his attention and he nodded to it, asking for a soda and a chocolate hostess snack. It scurried away and back, and he settled down to snack and people-watch.

walker-cain.livejournal.com

Cain and Molly Adamson enter, as the door swings wide, and they both blink, then glance back at the door.

"-definitely not Perigoso's."

"Nope."

"Want to stay?"

"That sounds like a delightful idea."

Cain grins and takes Molly's hand as they walk further into the bar. They had meant to enter a restaurant, as witnessed by their slightly formal, if comfortable, attire. They make their way to a booth and signal a wait rat.

Snuggled together, they wait to order and look about to see if any friends are about.

mallory-grace.livejournal.com

Mallory doesn't realize that she's come into the bar, at first. She's got two huge bags, one over each shoulder, and a towel in her hands that she's using to wipe her face.

"Now, if my car will start, I can get home in time to change for work..."

She lowers the towel and sees where she is.

"Oh, hell no!"

She turns on her heel, intending to go back the way she came, only to find that the door? It's gone.

"Damn it!"

Enjoy your extended stay at Milliways, Mallory!

organicmeatbag.livejournal.com

[OOMs: Arriving on Korriban, The Dreshdae Outpost, A Welcome to the Academy, and An Interlude.]

When Revan walks into Milliways, he was definitely not expecting to walk into Milliways. In fact, he'd been expecting another dust ridden corridor of the Sith Academy on Korriban. Not that he minds the little detour much, which is apparent by the small relieved smile he gets before stepping further into the bar and letting the door close behind him. He, of course, checks that the door is there and opens before he heads over to one of the corner booths and order a glass of milk.

evryinchbut1.livejournal.com

Time for work. The first day on the job is always a little nerve-wracking, but she can deal with those.

She slips behind the bar and adds to the Specials board:

Your server is: Valerie

Waitress on duty; feel free to flag her down.

talkstohats

[Pre-Milliways: In which Sophie blackens Howl's name to the king.]

Sophie's been wandering bewildered around Kingsbury for some time, growing more and more hot and vexed and confused, when she stumbles through an archway and into Milliways.

There's some initial confusion - she's never gotten here through anything other than the castle door before - but it's quickly drowned out by the overwhelming realization that here is a place to sit while she figures out how on Earth she is going to get back to the castle and explain to Howl how she's ruined everything.

Collapsing into a chair, she sends a waitrat off for a cup of tea; she likely looks about as tired and worried as she feels.

hellobugbite

Dressed in an orange New Republic flight suit, Hobbie Klivian stumbles into the bar, rubbing blearily at his eyes.

"You promised there'd be caf, Wed-- shavit."

He stands, blinking in considerable bemusement at his surroundings.

"Shavit," he repeats, then finds a booth.

callitavesper.livejournal.com

James Bond is

A) at the bar, drinking his 7th vodka martini.
B) smoking by the Observation Window.
C) in your base, killing your dudes.

ANSWER: B

shining-mercury.livejournal.com

When Ami Mizuno walks into Milliways this time, she is not in her school uniform or carrying her usual thick textbooks. Instead, she is wearing a pink housecoat, yellow flannel pajamas, and matching fluffy pink slippers. (Coordination makes Ami-chan happy.) Her toothbrush is tucked into a pocket of her coat, as are her glasses.

Slipping them on, she glances around in puzzlement.

"Well ... I suppose this isn't a dream ..."

collects_ears

Tonight for all your tending needs, you get not one but two tenders!

On your left you have George Cooper and on your right Anakin Solo. Feel free to ask one or both for what you desire.

"Tonight's drinks are A Furlong Too Late, A Goodnight Kiss, Acid Rain and Almost Heaven."

George grins at Anakin.

"What'll it be?"

Have at!

nita_callahan

[Tonight, while Yuna dances, Nita watches, and remembers.]

scrmifthishurts

Abby, for reasons unknown, is bouncy. Her drink wasn't spiked... not that she even has a drink. She's outside in the cold wearing her usual attire which really can't keep her warm in that chilly weather. We would say that's the reason why she's being bouncy but the mun seriously doubts that. Normally she only goes outside to practice with her bow but she doesn't even have that out. Maybe she's contemplating going home... to see Hannibal. But on the other hand it could be something completely different.

The world may never know.

janetsdaughter.livejournal.com

[OOM: Cassie's ready to leave for college, after some help from family and friends..and of course, a party.]

night-hibiscus.livejournal.com

[OOC: OOM:

First, there is goodbye.

And then farewell.]

abar-starclog.livejournal.com

He tracked down the guy with the camera earlier, and really, that's the last thing he wanted to do before heading out. But it occurred to him that leaving people in the lurch isn't a good move, even though there aren't many people around that he knows yet. So before he heads out, he stops by Bar and leaves a note for Val, at least.
It's little more than a 'thanks for all your help, hopefully I'll be back soon,' but it'll do.
That done, he braces himself one last time for Mother's... being himself, and heads out the front door.

jack_f_twist

It's been kinda a long time.

Could be Jack Twist has just been busy with work on the ranch; even those run by women as inimitable as Sallie Reynolds need all the hands they can get. Could be he's just lain low the times he's been back here. Could be he just doesn't want to see that damn front door keep opening and shutting on folks he's never met before, or even those he has.

Could be.

But hell, what's it matter? He's here now, just like he never left, beat-up black Resistol tipped back on his dark hair and one boot up on the table in front of the fire. He's even smoking the same damn brand of cigarettes he always has. The boots ain't as worn as they'd once been, but that's more a tribute to Sallie--who'd thrown away his old ones without so much as a warning--than to Jack.

And that's just about all there is. All those "could be's" don't matter a good goddam. It is what it is, and it ain't so bad. Not with the fire, and the couch, and the smokes and his drink. Not with some company, should some choose to come along.

Hell, last time he'd been here, there'd been that one fella with the magic tricks. And hadn't that been something?

landlesslord

Guy has been sitting by the lake for some time now, trying to think of ways to make a certain, mildly infuriating woman want to marry him. And maybe some time after that, learn to love him.

Of course, there was always threating her father to make him give Guy her hand in marriage, but she did consent to join him at the archery competition. Maybe he could make her see what an oppotunity it would be to marry him and she would be the Eleanor to his King Henry. Well, on a more local scale. And he would still be alive, rather than dead like the old King.

Guy would probably welcome any suggestions for successful wooing, other than making Marian spend lots of time with him and hope that she sees his good qualities.

Current Mood: thoughtful

helloeggman.livejournal.com

Wearing a thick parka with the hood covering his head, Henry Devlin walks into a bar and notices a warm heat surround his once snow chilled body. This place, the bar called Milliways is an entirely new place to him, and uncertain if he's dreaming or awake, Henry stops walking, takes of his jacket, and glances around.

"Where am I?" He questions himself in a whisper. And then in silence; Jonesy, Beav, Pete...? Anyone here? he speaks in his mind and reaches out to his friends.

Anyone able to communicate through this same form of thought speak would be able to hear Henry's speech. "Suppose not," he says to himself once again and takes a seat. He's not much of a drinker, unlike his friend Pete, but right now a beer sounds better than nothing.

guppy_sandhu

The doctor is in

And he's looking fairly chirpy, even if he was somewhat hungover this morning. So the sign is up, the ham sandwich is being consumed and there is an evening issue of the Holby Gazette on the table, detailing the antics of the (now fifty and rising) people who have decided to play the game of 'pretending to collapse spontaneously'. Surprisingly he and his colleagues haven't been finding this too amusing.

He's entirely botherable.

lyra_silver

Lyra just watered Antigone's silkflowers. It's very cold outside, so she and Pantalaimon came back in. Now Lyra's sitting in an armchair, holding her hands out to the fire, and Pan is curled up on the rug before the hearth.

[Very slow connection, here, so ping ravenboy1976 before tagging.]

action-antihero.livejournal.com

Jack's in his usual spot by the fireplace with a cup of coffee. He's reading a book, but it's about as interesting as watching paint dry at the moment. Business never was really his thing, but he's got to start doing something, and working for the government isn't an option anymore.

He'd certainly appreciate a reason to put it down though; as much as his mun would appreciate an excuse to pretend that canon doesn't exist.

shufti

Shufti and Jack enter through the front door. The baby pads along ahead, in his new baby blue booties with squirrels on.

"Beer!" he announces when he gets to Bar, putting his little hands on her side. Shufti follows, giggling.

"You'd hate beer love." she says, getting him orange juice in a sippy cup.

A little cake appears with a candle on top. Shufti blinks for a moment, then smiles down at Jack and picks him up.

"Here people have cakes that are on fire when they have a birthday." she says. "So I guess it's a good job Bar knows when yours is."

She hugs the little boy in a big cuddle, and mentally thanks whichever of the Disc gods have been looking for keeping her son safe and alive in his most dangerous of years.

explorertruman.livejournal.com

Truman was in the bar, glancing at his new compass. The needle was spinning every which way. Mostly since there was magic all around the place. The swiss army-like knife was already coming in handy. Still figuring out what some of the attachments were. He had been having a relaxing time, despite some troublesome dreams of late. Like the one where he was trying to find Sylvia, only to find himself lost in a blizzard.

He's always welcome to company.

stilljustandrew

[Millitimed to last night: Andrew and Meg catch up with each other. It seems they've each got plans to help with someone else's rescue mission in the near future.]

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

Wesley is back in the bar, sitting at one of the tables and putting the finishing touches on a book he was trying to repair a couple of nights ago. He's making better progress tonight as his hands finally remember how to wield the bookbinders' tools properly. Little wonder he had been out of practice. He hadn't done this sort of thing since the Watchers' Academy.

But now the book has shaped up nicely. Rather than trouble Bar for a finishing press, Wesley simply piles a stack of heavy books on top of his project, and orders a scotch as he waits for the wheat paste to dry.

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

The door reappeared, and Nathan had gone back only to have a great deal happen to him. He was briefly surprised that the door lead to Milliways instead of his home in Hyde Park. He turned behind him, and noted how everything had gone frozen.

Oh what the hell, he could use a drink. He walked in, and the door shut behind him.
He went over to the bar to order something. Though along with his cocktail, there was a book. He raised his eyebrows at that, but it stayed there. Silently goading him. He took his drink, and glared at the cover some.