milliways_bar | Jan. 23rd, 2007

Jan. 23rd, 2007

armoralchemy.livejournal.com

Theres a young man laid out on a couch near the fire with a portable CD player, the head phones dangling from his ears. He's humming as he listens, occasionally singing out a line or two.

His eyes wander the room specifically glancing at the front door and the stairs.

Totally botherable, especially if you enjoy music.

Current Music: Moving Forward - Hoobastank

gonna_live

[Several days ago, there was a conference call.

It results in a job offer.

Millitimed to last Friday.]

poisonwine

Belle has just gotten back from yet another meeting with Candra. She isn't terribly happy looking. However, she's also very much willing to shelve her feelings and have a nice talk if poked.

new-moon-sucks.livejournal.com

Human. Again.

He really hates these nights, reminds him of bad times and memories he wants to forget permanently.

Human!Inuyasha in the bar.

1st_starfighter

Alex is sick.

Alex is sick, and sniffly, and generally yucky. But his room isn't helping, and he can't sleep and so he is down in the bar, in front of the fire, curled up in a rather large armchair.

There is juice on a stand next to him, and tissues, and toast, as well. He is mostly ignoring them and absorbing the warmth of the fire, trying to will himself into sleep and lack of ughness.

It isn't working too well.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells got some new responsibilities yesterday. Two of them, to be precise. And while a lot can be said about his failings and flaws, this, at least, is true: the man takes his responsibilities seriously. When Zuko left Gheri and Gifr in Wells' care he gave them over to someone who would see to it that the dogs would get raised right. Mind you, that doesn't mean as house pets. Wells knows what these dogs were bred for. They'll never be the sort of hound to hop up on the couch or chase a squeaky toy around the room. And God help anyone who's in their sights if they ever decide to be lap dogs.

The long and the short of it is that while Wells spends much of his day either training the Slayer girls or practicing himself, he's added training a pair of giant guard dogs to his agenda as well. They've been with him outside since he got back to the Bar from his world, running with him and working on tracking technique. They're with him now as he comes in from out back to get something to eat.

It's probably inadvisable to approach the seating near the fire if you've got issues with flopped-out enormous piles of grey-brown fur.

futures_of_ash

There was a red-headed security member in bar, poking at a bandage on her hand. The edges were starting to fray and she was curious as to whether she could take it off all told...

But she'd been distracted by the dangly bandage bits.

Either way, tired, bandaged, but cheerful, Rachel was in Bar!

inquisitivehero

Henry was laying out along a rafter, reading. For once, he wasn't reading of science or technology. Nope. Today, he was reading about heroes. Conversations recently had begun to bug at him, begun to nag his mind. And so he is reading, and thinking, and wondering.

And he hasn't noticed that the Door is there again, for him, and won't yet.

It isn't quite time...

A wait rat skitters up to him on a rafter and hands him a plate of food, chittering at him, and he blinks, then laughs and bobs his head.

"Thank you, Kani."

He takes the food and munches on it as he reads. Apparently he forgot to eat again. Oops?

Current Location: rafters

hungbyathread.livejournal.com

There is a mildly-hungover director in a booth. While he is not dead, he looks as if he might not mind such a fate so much as the idea of lifting his head and getting up for the day. Bleary eyes squint at the still-dim light of the bar for a moment before a hand covers them out of a desperate need to stop the solar-powered jackhammers pounding behind them and the other hand, the one curled still around the tumbler of night-old Scotch, flexes tiredly. The Scotch is sipped.

Eugh. Watery.

Both hands are put to use rubbing at his eyes and scrubbing at his face, but it might be possible to hear what he's muttering.

"Why do my... delusions have to be... so fucking... accurate?"

Current Mood: sore

slayer_fray

Just look at the way she slides in to the bar furtively, checking the door behind her. Then there's the smug grin as she digs into her pocket and flips a coi in her hand, catching it again. And the self satisfied swagger towards the bar, ending with a flip of that ring onto the wood.

"Surprise me," she says. She's feeling flush.

pirate_jack

Last night there had been an explosion, which for all the world had sounded to Jack as though the Black Pearl had come under attack by a full barrage of cannon. By the time he'd scrambled from his cabin to the deck, however, there'd been nothing to see except for rapidly-settling dust.

This morning, Jack spends a little while looking around the shore by the lake. There's nothing to be found but some footprints in the snow-- and it's too bloody cold to stand around outside for long, anyway.

Jack shrugs, then strolls inside and to the Bar in search of rum, humming a tune as he goes.

thelastearthman.livejournal.com

Well, here's a sight you don't see every day.

Arthur is comfortably curled up in a booth, back against the wall, with Samantha's two-month-old son in his arms. He's currently reading the boy some of the tamer Guide entries.

Elliot looks supremely uninterested.

Current Mood: calm

mendanddefend_archive

Guardian inna bar.

He's got a plate of toruses next to him and a stack of paper in front of him. He's busy writing up thank-you notes for the people who helped him out over the last two weeks, and general "don't worry, I'm okay now" notes for several other people.

When that's done, he'll be going home.

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

"Oh!"

This isn't Nerva. She blinks, wondering if that woozy feeling is still a side effect from that fear device Styre used on her back on Earth. Or maybe it's just the transmat beam itself - she's really starting to detest that form of travel.

"Doctor? Harry?"

Sarah shakes her head, trying to will the dizziness away. It doesn't help much, so she goes to take a seat at a nearby chair. It's when she sits that she finally puts it together. Of course this isn't Nerva. Far from it. It's Milliways! How in heavens did she wind up here?

But right now, she doesn't care. She could use the sit-down after everything that's just happened, and a cup of water as well. But that could wait until that horrible wooziness goes away.

So, one Sarah Jane sitting at a table, looking a little worse for wear from the last time she was in here.

nodistresshere

Sometimes, the time pockets upstairs can be interesting. Iella, for instance, thinks it's been a few days since the last time she was in the bar proper for any extended length of time, rather than the week plus that has actually passed.

Ignorant of any and all time differences, Iella is sitting at a table with a pad of paper and a half-eaten sandwich. She's concentrating more on the paper than she is on her lunch. She isn't much of an artist, but she's meticulous and has an eye for detail. What other people achieve through natural talent, Iella does through being stubborn (namely, erasing and redrawing). At the moment, she is being stubborn at a sketch of Bar and her immediate surroundings; drawing what she can see. She leans over the sketchbook, concentrating, her chin in her left hand. The large bruise on one side of her face has faded, though it's still visible. She wears a scarf 'round her neck; it's an orange-red pop of color.

She wears a blaster at her hip, and frankly, drawing gives her a nice excuse to watch what's going on around her. Every few seconds, her eyes flick up. At the moment, she's trying to sketch in that patron's shoulders.

alderaani-intel.livejournal.com

There were several things Winter D'altaire hated about politics. A) politicians. B) politicians and C) Borsk Fey'lya.

She didn't mind, however, the long Senatorial gowns she was required to wear...nor the numerous breaks for caf...which is how she ended up here in Milliways. She flashes a smile at the bar and sits down somewhere near the middle.

This five minute break would turn into quite a long one.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi is in the bar, propped to keep an eye out for Dr. Ford, and working out jewelry ideas on a pad of paper.

Suzi is a much better jeweler than she is a draw-er. She's considered things with birds, recently, which is why there is a page of...chickens. Evil chickens. Her flowers aren't bad, though. Lots of flowers. Off in the corner there are doodles that are pretty much just doodles.

Mostly.

algiersloveknot.livejournal.com

In regards to species normally found at Milliways Bar at the end of the universe:

Fig 1 A lone female figure watching the universe end. Distant look suggests contemplative thoughts, loose flowing hair suggests comfort and security. Hands twitching and drumming on the table suggests nervousness or boredom. Copy of "Lord of the Rings" in front of her suggests that she attempted to allieviate symptoms of boredom and failed.

Sighing, Vesper runs a hand through her hair and grimaced.

abar-starclog.livejournal.com

Carl asked Bar for a snack to go along with his reading.
He's starting to think he should've been a little more specific than 'surprise me,' though. As it is, he's got these... Mobius-strip onion ring things that don't actually taste like onion rings. It's weird.
In any case, he's going back and forth among the book, the snack, and the people-watching.

fran-goldsmith.livejournal.com

Fran had read the sign warning people about werewolves. She'd read/seen enough horror stories to not be skeptical, here. Anyplace else, she'd have dismissed it as a badly timed joke.
But it's days from the first week of February, and she's here, and restless. Bundling up against the cold, she's outdoors, walking in the general direction of the lake.
The pirate ship gets more than one look from her. She stops to stare.
Botherable, as always.

bard-elan.livejournal.com

Elan is sitting at a table, tuning his lute and smiling happily. He's met a lot of new friends and learned a few things about this place, and he's excitedly waiting for the rest of this wonderful new subplot to become clear.

Meanwhile, however, he's discovered that one of the waitrats is having a bad day, and has decided to do what he can to fix this up.

So he's singing, and playing his lute.

"Serve, serve, serve, serve refreshing adult beverages!"
"Carry, carry, carry, carry the tray of food!"

The lyrics may not be inspired, but the performance is good, and the rat seems to be doing better now.

wizard_dresden

Bob's on the shelf as my quick refernce guide and I'm all set to go.

Happy Hour Specials
Dead Bastard
Dying Bastard
Suffering Bastard

Yeah, look, did m'homework this time.

[OOC: No more threads for tonight - mun must sleep for work. Thanks all!]

http://users.livejournal.com/_righthandman_/

Chase is nervous as hell--he starts work back at CTU tomorrow morning, and while he'd love to have a drink or seven to calm him down, the thought of having to deal with Bill Buchanan while hungover is enough to persuade him to stick with soda for tonight.

So he's just sitting at a table, fidgeting like crazy and attempting to read the LA Times.

elrond-healer.livejournal.com

Elrond settled to the bench near where the garden had been, and would be again, in the spring, smiling faintly as he did.

A long day of gathering winter-growing herbs had led to a tired Elf Lord. But it was work that needed to be done. He had meant to do it earlier this month, but time seemed, of late, to pass him by, more so.

Finally, he had roused himself, and found his steps quickening as he walked to the task. Now he sat, and took in the night air, and relaxed. It had been a good day.

is-he-isnt-he.livejournal.com

Ben is trying to make the most of being Bound. At the moment, he's drafting a notice to post on the message board.

He's gotten as far as "WANTED: Neurosurgeon" before drifing off into thought.

He's not a happy camper. There's an icy look about him that suggests that anyone who comes near him is going to be viciously toyed with like a cat stabbing a mouse with its claw.

But hey, don't like that scare you away!

livewithrats.livejournal.com

There is a man asleep in a booth, curled against the cushions with a leather jacket draped across his chest.

On top of his head is a kitten, also asleep.

The man snores every so often while the kitten purrs softly, ears and tail twitching on occasion.

As the man begins to stir, the kitten lets out a teensy yawn, stretches, and hops onto the floor in search of milk.

The man, however, remains in his spot, sound asleep.

This man is Alex Krycek. Dare you wake the sleeping ~~rat~~ ~~giant~~ ~~thing~~ man?

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

It's another Tuesday.

Which means that there is another shift to be worked.

Elaine writes her name on the specials board, very carefully. She's really only been writing for a few years, after all.

Hello, your server tonight is Elaine.

She'd be happy to help you.

alec-or-alonzo.livejournal.com

The other students at Redmond have often wondered how she does it. How does Philippa Gordon, social butterfly extraordinaire, ever find the time to be top in her mathematics class, when she's busy attending balls and parties and entertaining visitors every evening?

Well, Phil's not quite as perfect as the other students may think. She's pretty close (as she will be quick to point out), but even the social queen of Redmond needs to find some time to study now and again.

Which is why, every so often, she's been dashing off to Milliways to steal a couple of extra hours in the day (and perhaps a fried paradox or two).

It's quality Calculus time for Phil, but please, interrupt her. She's more than happy to take a study break. She'll even share her paradoxes.

bringonthewonder

Angela has coffee and a comfortable chair over by the fireplace. It's been a rough few days, and spending today testifying in a murder trial didn't do much to improve her mood.

She'd probably like company.

runmakitarun.livejournal.com

[OOM: Caitlin runs Makita through some tactical exercises. Rated LAH for Large Amounts of Handwaving.]

janetsdaughter.livejournal.com

[OOC: Cassie gets sicker..and dreams.]

scapepig

[oom: Things begin to settle.]

Snowball enters through the front door and makes his way over to the bar. He carefully writes out a note in charcoal on paper, folds it and hands it to Bar.

"Could you please give this to Asar-Suti? Thank you."