milliways_bar | Jan. 28th, 2007

Jan. 28th, 2007

[OOM: Millitimed to several weeks ago, early in Kitty's imprisonment, thanks to mun scheduling issues. When River's upset in the bar, her father takes her for a field trip.

Nothing's fixed. But, for a little while, they're closer to all right.]

callitavesper.livejournal.com

[ Last Saturday, James and Vesper went upstairs to their flat to have a bit of mutual cooking and flirting.

A few days later, room 007 recives a new tenant. ]

mop-jockey.livejournal.com

After a quick cup of coffee, Lenny writes up on the Specials Board.

Hello, my name is Lenny Inchpot, Mop Pusher to the Stars and I'll be your waiter this morning.

Nevermind that the biggest 'star' to pass through Pickax was Mark Twain over a hundred years ago.

iustus_rex

[OOM: Some while ago, Piotr brings Edmund some news.]

theravenboy

[OOM: In the kingdom beyond the North Wind, the new regent of the land and his new chief advisor talk.]

scrmifthishurts

There's a Nightstalker laying on the couch by the fire. Food and drink are on the table before her or near her rather and it has gone untouched. Her weapons are close to her... the ultraviolet arc under her pillow. She's a bit zoned out at the moment although every slight movement catches her eyes. She might be thinking or she might not be. There's really no telling.

Distractions would be good. Of course, if they're of the good kind.

themerlin

Merlin sits near the fire, humming faintly, juggling.

The juggling he is doing is with little balls that seemingly glow, but maybe that is the firelight. Just as the soft golden-red glow of his eyes might be the firelight. Hard to tell. The patterns grow more and less complex as he varies his movements, alters his style. It has been an interesting stay here, and he is allowing his mind to think about things even as his hands practice old patterns.

He is warm, and thoughtful, and content.

lvpd_sidle

Sara is not a bird, nor is she a plane.

She's curled up in her favorite armchair near one of the fireplaces, a mug of coffee in her hands.

She doesn't look precisely happy, but neither does she look angry.

At any rate, she can be bothered. Company would be a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

runmakitarun.livejournal.com

Makita checks the door a couple of times each day. Nothing too involved. She just walks over and attempts to open it. Four weeks have passed, and this ritual has been repeated more than a hundred times with the same result. The door remains closed.

Still, she approaches the door each time with the expectation that this time it will open. So she stands at the door with Betty's backpack and her own weapons harness, and she reaches out to open the door.

This time it opens. And not into the silence of a world frozen in time. There's the unmistakable sharp rhythm of automatic weapons and the snapping crack of bullets hitting concrete. Tracers flash by in front of the open doorway and small shards of concrete are thrown into the bar. One strikes Makita in the cheek leaving a thin line of blood, but she ignores it.

Time was supposed to stop while she was in the bar! Her squad was supposed to be waiting, just as she'd left them! For one awful moment she imagines them all dying four weeks ago, and a list of all the others who probably haven't survived flashes through her mind.

But... Then she notices. This is the barrage of bullets she dived into the doorway to avoid. This is almost precisely when she entered the bar. And she comes to a realization: time does stop back home, as long as the door is closed. This isn't something that anyone mentioned as a possibility, but it's something she is intensely grateful for. Now she doesn't have to worry about trying to get through the incoming fire. She can just wait it out.

Makita doesn't think to find anyone, to tell anyone, or even to leave a note. She's going home. She's going to keep her people alive. The incoming fire stops, someone must be reloading, and Makita sprints through to the war-torn, snow-covered streets of Bahamut.

The door swings silently shut behind her.

[ooc: Makita's gone for a week or so, but reactions are welcome.]

ninja-mountie.livejournal.com

[OOM: Duty interrupted; duty fulfillled.]

The door swings open to reveal the inside of a tiny, scarcely-lit tent more reminiscent of an animal's den than a man's sleeping quarters. Of course, when you are very small a space like that is less confining than it would be to other men. It suits the silver-haired, white-parka'ed Mountie who's just come into Milliways just fine. He looks around the Bar with an expression of satisfaction on his lined, weathered face as he peels the rabbit-fur parka off. "Good," he says. "It worked again."

He'll find the girl here soon enough, he's sure. Susan, she said she'd been named. And the puppy; hopefully he hasn't been away too long. He owes that pup.

bright-burning.livejournal.com

The bar can be a fun place. Interesting, on occasion, and it's suitable for use as a distraction. Which is probably why Fire has turned up there.

She's sitting in a chair with her feet propped up on a nearby table, watching the Observation Window and idly lighting paper napkins on fire.

's a hard-knock life.

eiattu_pride

And lo, there was a Rial.

One could possibly say 'and it was good', but the mun has a strong suspicion that she's used that one already. So, well it may in fact be good that there's a Rial in the bar, she leaves it up to you to decide whether or not one Count Rial Pernon, also known as Count Zen or Count Decaf, is a good thing.

...where were we?

Ah, yes. There happens to be a Rial about today, settled in at a booth with a datapad. His expression is one of deep concentration, so one would probably imagine that he is doing something of Great Importance. If it weren't for the noises more suitable to some kind of children's game, the illusion of working hard would even be complete!

But sadly, Rial has not yet remembered to turn off the sound. So.

Perhaps someone ought to remind him that skiving off works better if people can't hear you?

jianhuo.livejournal.com

She is starting. To get. Bored.

There is no door in the bar, no matter what the others say, though she knows for a fact she came in through one. She's gone a long time without running into anyone that might try to start trouble for her, though she wondered about the mechanic, about Mal's mother. She's playing a few men for their affections, for the safety that it offers to have locals that like you, but eventually one of them's going to step it up a notch and that'll force her to play her hand, make a choice between them.

That would suck.

A lot.

There is a woman in the bar, but she might be hard to see unless you're looking specifically for her. In a corner booth, dark since she blew the candle out (no light to catch on her hair), blue eyes are watching the wall intently. People arrive, people leave... but she never sees the door they do it through.

didntseeit.livejournal.com

Work shift?

Ended.

State of Ajedrez?

Need in coffee. Strong, black, sugary coffee.

Anyone who stands in her way?

Dead. Oh so dead. See the gun on her hip? Dead.

She'll be human after the coffee, the mun promises. Or, at least hopes.

jawaswag.livejournal.com

Gavin is bored. It's still too cold outside (cold enough to make him homesick for Tatooine again) and he had just spent the last two hours practicing on the simulators upstairs. He almost completed the Death Star run today. ~~He did, though, get further than his cousin ever did. Not that Gavin's proud of that or anything.~~ Now, now he was bored.

And hungry.

So when he had gone to Bar for a nerfburger, a random magazine appeared (US Weekly for those curious). It looks like an Earther magazine, and there are squiggly letters on it he can't entirely read.

But the pictures are amusing. He thinks. Earthers wear funny clothing.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi isn't knitting right now. Instead she's curled up with a book of rather gigantic dimensions. The size of a history book, in Braille, shocked her at first. By this point, however, she's used to it. She's reading, currently, about the history of Belize. Studying for the test is more fun with Whistler around to reward her for getting things right.

Next to her chair is a stack of other books, most of them also on Belize. She plans on having as close to an encyclopedic knowledge of Belize as possible before she has to start telling people where she's from. A couple of the books are even in regular writing, for purposes of pictures.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace has had quite enough of tromping about in the snow, so Magic is back in the TARDIS, snoozing in some warm corner, and Ace is in the bar, fiddling with a badly charred sonic blaster she snagged on one of her little ventures. It isn't anywhere near functional, and there's no hope of returning it to the factory for a refit (mysteriously, there is a banana plantation there. Weird.) so she's trying to do the rewiring herself.

So far she's only zapped her fingers once. Not bad, since she's a bit rusty on working with microcircuits.

fran-goldsmith.livejournal.com

Fran's in, sitting by the piano, eyeing it as if she thinks it may bite.

After the last couple weeks, she wouldn't be entirely surprised that it did, here.

She orders a drink, rum and coke, while keeping one eye on the alleged musical
instrument.

Company or spare sanity welcome. If there's any around.

carefulwishes.livejournal.com

There’s a loud, thudding beat from beyond the Door. It opens – on the other side are flashing strobe lights and Gwen Stefani's "Holla Back Girl."

The young woman that enters is slim, with shoulder-length brown hair. She's wearing a gold mini-skirt and a green open-back halter top, a clutch in hand. She calls back over her shoulder, "That man-whore's gonna give you something nasty, Jen!"

This is said at perfect volume for the club she just left. It's rather too loud for Milliways, however. She realizes this a few seconds later, as she looks around and realizes she's not where she's supposed to be.

Her eyes widen as she wipes sweat from her face. She's breathing heavily, but now it's not just from the dance floor.

Sitting down at the nearest table might be a good idea. And she'll do that. Once she can move.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton did consider covering up his (rather faded) bruises, and did consider shaving, or doing any number of things that might make him look less like he's been dragged through several of the milder varieties of Hell.

Eventually, he just couldn't be bothered, because he's nothing if not a bit lazy. He's grinning anyway as he comes down and chalks on the board.

Specials.
Blue Bomber.
Red Death.
Green Alien.

With that done, he heads behind the bar.
"Y'get as many little paper umbrellas as you like with no extra charge, too."

guppy_sandhu

Guppy didn't go home last night. Since he'd just come off shift, he didn't really need to; nobody would miss him for a few hours back there. He stayed in the bar for a while, then headed upstairs to try and do that thing where you lie down and switch off for a while. Yeah, sleep, that's the one. He got a couple of hours, enough to avoid lapsing into hallucination at any rate. Spent the rest of the night trying to get to sleep, eventually watching a video (Great sheep escapes, series 2, Episodes 1 to 40) until he dozed off.

In any case, he comes downstairs and heads over to the door. Then hesitates. Then sort of ums and ahs for a bit whilst he tries to decide if he's going or not. And then decides it really won't do any harm if he stays here a bit longer.

He gets a black coffee then looks in his bag to try and find some paperwork to do.

a1enzo

This... is not Dot's Diner. I mean, Dot can accomplish some amazing things, but completely redecorating overnight probably isn't one of them.

But Enzo practically lives in the diner. There is no way he could have mistaken another building for it, even disregarding the enormous sign on the roof.

There are a few similarities here - the booths, the bar - but the decor is all wrong... and it's packed with more sprites than he's seen since he was 00.

Enzo is certain of 10 things: there is no place like this anywhere in Baudway, and there aren't this many sprites in all of Mainframe.

Current Mood: dumbfounded

awesome_lilly

Sure, she defeated the evil Prince Gloom, restored sparkle to Ponyland, won the love and gratitude of many colorfully-assed ponies and if she stayed longer, they'd probably make her their chief.

But even if Lilly weren't missing her friends at the bar, there's a limited amount of time she can stay in a place where the hardest drink is apple juice and none of the men are anatomically correct. That time is up.

The front door opens and Lilly enters, grinning cheerfully and swinging a basket in each hand as she heads for the bar. Her hair is suspiciously sparkly and she's gotten tanner, but other than that, nothing's changed.

Well. Don't ask about her flanks.

geeky-agent.livejournal.com

Chris isn't really paying attention as she wanders into the bar. Her attention that should be focused on simple things, like watching where she's walking, has been taken up by the small Game Boy in her hands.

There's the soft click of plastic and her repeated mutter of, "faster, faster dammit!' as she strolls through the bar, relying on instinct to guide her towards the bar.

That's followed by the clattering of a chair and a yelp as she walks into a table. "Ah... dammit."

Well. That was embarrassing. She does a quick glance around her to see if anyone noticed that brilliant display.

Maybe she should have relied on eyesight to get her where she was headed.

Current Mood: spacey

sweepergirl.livejournal.com

One day while hanging around in Milliways, Nisha commented to no one in particular that she was bored.

This afternoon when she ordered her lunch, she got something else along with it - a yoyo. Nisha's spent the past few hours fooling around with it and trying to get it to work. She thinks she's getting pretty good, even if she can only make it go up and down two or three times in a row.

So...Nisha inna Bar witha yoyo.

Botherable.

fighting_mad

[OOM: On Eiattu, Rial and Plourr (with special guest appearance by Wainthropp, the purple crumple-horned snorkack) take the afternoon off.]

rigthegames.livejournal.com

Sands hasn’t been around the bar much recently*, but no matter what (or who) you’re trying to avoid, the risk of bumping into it starts to seem a whole lot more appealing after a few weeks skulking in your room.

So he’s sat at the bar with a cigarette, and if the glare he’s giving all patrons within a two metre radius is anything to go by, he would much rather be somewhere else entirely.

Preferably Mexico.

*which is entirely because he’s antisocial, and has nothing whatosever to do with his mun neglecting him.

[ooc: ~~my laptop is being wacky. If I disappear, it's probably exploded or something.~~ It's time for the sleeping. All tags will be picked up tomorrow!]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells comes away from the table where he's been talking to Ace, and he's got an extraordinarily grim expression. "Bar," he says, "I need paper and something to write with, please."

He leaves the same note for Philippus, Andrew, Stephanie Brown, and Cooper.

( Read more... )

That written, he passes the notes into Bar's care and goes out the front door, returning a bit later and heading for Ace.

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

Here there be Chase.

Chase has a burger, some fries (mostly for Kim, in case she decides to pop by) and a beer.

S'bout it, really.

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

The lovely thing about staying in an apartment here is that oh so wonderful kitchen that comes with it. For the first time in a long time, she treated herself to a real fry-up for breakfast, after a long sleep-in. It was little comforts like that which reminded Sarah Jane of the life she once had before meeting the Doctor. Even if it meant visiting the end of the universe in between those daft adventures she's grown accustomed to to achieve such a life.

Not that Sarah minds. Far from it. Bar at the end of the universe for normality and 'reality' for, well, certainly everything barmy and strange? It's fantastic.

But right now, Sarah's enjoying an orange she had found in the fridge as she sits by the fire with her book. She snuggles further into her blanket, hogging up a good half of the couch as she becomes engrossed in the encounter between Venetia and the scandalous Lord Damerel.

badinlatin

There is a man, in a coat.

He's been more preoccupied than usual, so when he writes up on the blackboard, he takes a moment and forces a smile out of view of the patrons until it feels more natural.

Sorry I missed last week, folks.

Specials:
Try Ng Ka Pe and convince me you liked it, and your next drink is half off.

Mal's at least planning to get some amusement out of things, and he jumps behind the bar.

"Let's hear it."

misterbunny.livejournal.com

The Bunny has set up a booth, in a booth. On the table of the booth, actually. It's a set up reminiscent of Lucy's doctors booth, very simple.

And hanging from the top of the booth are several red pelts on one side, and several sets of horns on the other. And from the middle, there are hunks of some kind of meat.

The sign is hand lettered 'FRESH DEMON BUNNY FIXINS' with typically cute misspellings and reverse letters.

And one black and white bunny, sitting there waiting for customers.

regrowingpains.livejournal.com

Claire comes storming through the door, turning to yell back through it.

"Lyle! Just! Yeah!"

Stupid little brothers. But at least he won't tell anyone about the video. Or her freakishness.

mistressmaryquitecontrary

[OOM: Mary Lennox has been hitting everyone up to participate in her survey.

And she's not going to let a little thing like disappearance into the wilds of Uberwald stand in her way.]

gaychickenking.livejournal.com

It’s no grand entrance.

The door opens, and Ben steps through with a spring in his step and a hand wrapped in bandages. He’s in the process of unzipping his fly, and it takes a moment for the fact that this is not a restroom and Bar is not a urinal to register.

“Uh.”

“This is interesting.”

Cautiously, he reaches down and zips his fly back up.

Then, after a few seconds of quiet contemplation, he raises the camera hung around his neck, and takes a photo.

[OOC: And this is the point where I keel over and die and/or go to bed. Slowtime is sexy, and all tags will be tagged at a more sensible time of day.]

atanycost.livejournal.com

[OOM: Jet camps out in the woods to clear his head; he gets visitors, though -- Mel comes to make sure they're square about what her younger self did... whlie Katara comes to ease her guilt and gain forgiveness and understanding.

Melaka and Jet's thread is still in progress.]

winterladym.livejournal.com

There is a very brightly colored Queen To Be of the Fae in the bar this evening, sprawled over one of the couches by the fire.

Like cats, fae are creatures who truly know how to sprawl, to relax so completely they appear to be boneless, yet still able to leap up at the least sign of trouble.

The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster in her hand might have something to do with it as well.

impulsivekid.livejournal.com

His name is up on the board, and underneath is his thing.

'Todays Waiter Special is:Hot Apple Brandy! Come and get it!'

And There is Bart, with his tray.

awesome_lilly

Lilly's had a great evening handing out presents and getting free drinks. She hasn't had a chance to see everyone, though, so she stops by the bar before heading upstairs.

( Dear Everybody )

Note written, she sets the basket of apples on the bar, smiles as it vanishes, and then heads for her suite.