Jan. 31st, 2007
Waiter on Duty
Jan. 31st, 2007 12:14 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
impulsivekid.livejournal.com'Today your server is Bart, and the drink special is:Alabazam. Cause I like the name.'
And there is a bart, sans flash outfit, ready to serve.
And there is a bart, sans flash outfit, ready to serve.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 12:36 amyuppie-trash.livejournal.com[Out of Milliways: Patrick Bateman makes a statement. Warnings of megalomania, Motorhead lyrics, spoilers for Lunar Park, and of blood and gore apply.]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 03:00 ammop-jockey.livejournal.comA quick sip of cocoa and jot on the specials board and Lenny's ready to serve.
Alright folks, have at. Lenny Inchpot here to serve you.
Meandering about should allow him to cover a larger area, aye?
[ooc: must flee for a little while, don't know exactly how long I'll be gone, but hopefully not long! Tags are more than welcome in my absense, I will pick them up!]
Alright folks, have at. Lenny Inchpot here to serve you.
Meandering about should allow him to cover a larger area, aye?
[ooc: must flee for a little while, don't know exactly how long I'll be gone, but hopefully not long! Tags are more than welcome in my absense, I will pick them up!]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 06:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
futures_of_ashRachel? Had one of the most reassuring conversations she's had in a very long time. That might account for why the security member was singing softly to herself and nearly dancing every time she moved...
She was smiling, and cheerful, and no doubt any psychologist out there would love to point out that she shouldn't be...but hey, it worked for her. So, security member in bar, drifting among tables with a tea mug in hand.
She was smiling, and cheerful, and no doubt any psychologist out there would love to point out that she shouldn't be...but hey, it worked for her. So, security member in bar, drifting among tables with a tea mug in hand.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:39 amrunmakitarun.livejournal.com[OOM: I want you to survive this war.
Makita sits with one of the kids in her squad. They share memories, and pain, and chocolate.]
Makita sits with one of the kids in her squad. They share memories, and pain, and chocolate.]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 08:50 aminquisitivehero[OOM: Back to Life...: Back on Earth, Henry lives, and dreams, and runs. And somewhere along the way, a dream is shared. And a dream sparks hope.]
First entrance
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:44 amfortheblackboar.livejournal.com[He was just looking for a drink at his favorite tavern... Also, tagging may be slightly slow, but I wanted to get him in bar before I forgot.]
As Diarmuid sauntered into the tavern, his eyes were not entirely up to keep a sharp eye out for pick pockets and such. Really, the whole fun of the city excursions was the inherent danger. Otherwise, alcohol was as good or better at the palace. But, as previously mentioned, he wasn't exactly... looking. After all, he knew what the Black Boar looked like.
Which is why, when he did lift his head, he jumped minutely and his hand flashed to the hilt of his sword. The apprehension was almost instantaneous as he quickly covered it with his usual arrogant expression. With his face, blond hair, and excellent, he could easily appear almost angelic. But then there was that sardonic, disbelieving look in his deep blue eyes, which no one would ever guess covered more uncertainty than he would ever own to.
This… is not the tavern.
A quick glance and sniff informed him there were drinks to be had—that was comforting knowledge—but… where in the God's name was he? No place in Fionavar looked like this. He would not be frightened—very little truly frightened the young prince—but he would be wary. At the same time… he smelled alcohol. And there were women. All in all, at his first, summarizing glance, despite the odd appearance it probably wasn't all that much different than the Black Boar. Or so he could hope.A bar of some kind? This he could handle. …And if he couldn't, well, he'd fake it until he could.
Welcome to Milliways, Diar.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 10:46 amalorn-bear.livejournal.comYesterday was good, it really was, but some days Belar just feels more sociable than others, y'know? So he's indoors right now and dressed like an ordinary resident of the Pacific Northwest as of 2007 or so, not skidding across the lake ice on his butt and wearing fur. Granted, he does have his sign up-
ANSWERING PRAYERS
BACK IN 15 MINUTES
ASK ME ABOUT WINTER SPORT LESSONS
-but, hey, the way that time count's decrementing it won't be long before he's good to bother.
ANSWERING PRAYERS
BACK IN 15 MINUTES
ASK ME ABOUT WINTER SPORT LESSONS
-but, hey, the way that time count's decrementing it won't be long before he's good to bother.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 10:53 amgone_byebyeYesterday was a day of false alarms and investigations that turned out to be nothing, but that's okay. Ray can deal with that. Why, you ask? Simple: because he stayed here last night and got some actual sleep.
He's gone back to an old intellectual exercise to unwind before going home. Namely: once you've built a box that's five times bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, how do you handle the issue of where to put the mass? And perhaps more importantly, what happens if you drop a fistful of marbles in there and have to find them with only your sense of touch?
Possibly he ought to be distracted.
He's gone back to an old intellectual exercise to unwind before going home. Namely: once you've built a box that's five times bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, how do you handle the issue of where to put the mass? And perhaps more importantly, what happens if you drop a fistful of marbles in there and have to find them with only your sense of touch?
Possibly he ought to be distracted.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 11:42 amcallitavesper.livejournal.comJames has many habits and patterns. One of them involves reading books. He's finished all the books bar has given him too fast to be stayed off from boredom for too long. He does wonder why the bar hasn't dropped War and Peace on his lap yet, considering how attuned she is to his boredom. He is, however, not complaining about the big book o' Shakespear she provided him today. You can find him reading this book at an armchair by the fireplace.
[ ooc: mun has to finish writing something, and after that get ready for work. slowtime is thus called for! ]
[ ooc: mun has to finish writing something, and after that get ready for work. slowtime is thus called for! ]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 11:55 ampoisonwineBelle is in bar, writing a letter while drinking tea. She has a bowl of cereal, which is slowly disappearing.
Don't bother trying to read the note, it's in code. But do feel free to poke, since she's not completely consumed in her letter.
Don't bother trying to read the note, it's in code. But do feel free to poke, since she's not completely consumed in her letter.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 12:15 pmskidrowseymour.livejournal.comSeymour is perfectly fine.
Yes, he has a lot of Band-Aids on his fingers, and he's having a hard time gripping the newspaper has has in one hand. Yes, when he enters Milliways (there's the sound of a crowd outside the Door) he finds the first empty chair and collapses into it. And, true, he stares at nothing for a while.
But he's fine. You should talk to him, and he can tell you so himself!
Yes, he has a lot of Band-Aids on his fingers, and he's having a hard time gripping the newspaper has has in one hand. Yes, when he enters Milliways (there's the sound of a crowd outside the Door) he finds the first empty chair and collapses into it. And, true, he stares at nothing for a while.
But he's fine. You should talk to him, and he can tell you so himself!
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 12:59 pmheads-you-live.livejournal.comDomino didn't mind the cold, given as how she was both better dressed for it than she is in the icon, and she was moving, a workout was always good for keeping warm.
And nunchuck-shadow-boxing was the best ever, most of it she made up as she went along, some of it was stuff she'd actually learned, some of it was stuff she'd taught herself.
In any case, bounty hunter in a quandry and working out to let her brain work in the background, feel free to interrupt.
And nunchuck-shadow-boxing was the best ever, most of it she made up as she went along, some of it was stuff she'd actually learned, some of it was stuff she'd taught herself.
In any case, bounty hunter in a quandry and working out to let her brain work in the background, feel free to interrupt.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 03:15 pmlissla-lissar.livejournal.comAsh is not wild about being out in a drizzly rain and slush. The woman known as Susan doesn't care for it either, but would rather be outside than in on any date. So Ash is patiently walking along, with dignified shakes of her feet each time she lifts one to show her disdain for the slushy white stuff.
The woman called Susan is just trying to keep warm while looking for wood.
The woman called Susan is just trying to keep warm while looking for wood.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 04:37 pmlt-naraht.livejournal.comHello! There's a Horta at the Bar.
And he has something that might just be a recipe for trouble. You see, when he ordered some lunch, Bar also included three new toys. The controls are simple, so Naraht now has a team of tiny Daleks swarming around him, bumping into things and playfully chasing the occasional waitrat.
And he has something that might just be a recipe for trouble. You see, when he ordered some lunch, Bar also included three new toys. The controls are simple, so Naraht now has a team of tiny Daleks swarming around him, bumping into things and playfully chasing the occasional waitrat.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 05:32 pmsnorkacklover.livejournal.comLuna checks under all the tables and chairs (and the occasional patron) as she makes her way to the bar to begin her shift, and writes her name on the Specials board in decidedly low spirits.
Hello, bar, I’m Luna and I’m a waitress.
And this she adds, drawing an arrow to her poster, is my kidnapped snorkack.
Seemingly satisfied, she drifts away to hunt down unsuspecting customers.
[ooc: I must away for a couple of hours. Feel free to tag whilst I'm gone.]
Hello, bar, I’m Luna and I’m a waitress.
And this she adds, drawing an arrow to her poster, is my kidnapped snorkack.
Seemingly satisfied, she drifts away to hunt down unsuspecting customers.
[ooc: I must away for a couple of hours. Feel free to tag whilst I'm gone.]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 05:34 pmjianhuo.livejournal.comStill bored.
Highly satisfied with herself, but still mostly bored, and a little worried about yet another day without the door home.
Today, there is a redhead outside, bundled up against the cold, save for her hands that remain bare. Probably for better manneuverability since she has a long line of string curled around her fingers and appears to be doing something like...
Cat's Cradle.
Terrifying.
Highly satisfied with herself, but still mostly bored, and a little worried about yet another day without the door home.
Today, there is a redhead outside, bundled up against the cold, save for her hands that remain bare. Probably for better manneuverability since she has a long line of string curled around her fingers and appears to be doing something like...
Cat's Cradle.
Terrifying.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 05:38 pmcaptainryan.livejournal.comRyan's sporting some lovely bruises having had his arse handed to him again by Garion. The taller man is too damn fast for Ryan to reciprocate as often as he'd like, not that he much minds. It means he has to push himself and he won't come to depend on his own reflexes to win all the time. Plus, he's learning to use Garion's speed against him.
Thus, there is a sore yet pleased looking Captain Ryan wandering about the lake. He's thinking about a run later, but for now he's content to allow himself to heal further.
Thus, there is a sore yet pleased looking Captain Ryan wandering about the lake. He's thinking about a run later, but for now he's content to allow himself to heal further.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 05:42 pmyuppie-trash.livejournal.comThe door opens, he steps backwards over the threshold (into the bar), clipping his shoulder against the door frame. Muttering. It hurts. Both the man and the clothes are more (Hugo Boss lambswool jacket, zip-front style. Untucked, Boss long-sleeved grey cotton shirt) worn than they (the sleeve of the shirt is damaged. There are defensive wounds, scratches on his wrists. There are curious stains on his Rock & Republic jeans) should be. But he looks like he could be promoting a new trend with the deconstructed attire.
He (lets go of the doorknob. Smooth move, Ex-lax) reaches to rub at his upper arm where the jolt of pain causes him to glance up, peering over his shoulder at the room. No, not (the Quietus Hotel room he expected it to be) here.
And he turns back, quickly, reaching out (not the bar, not the bar, didn't want to be here--) at the span of empty wall where the door had been.
He (lets go of the doorknob. Smooth move, Ex-lax) reaches to rub at his upper arm where the jolt of pain causes him to glance up, peering over his shoulder at the room. No, not (the Quietus Hotel room he expected it to be) here.
And he turns back, quickly, reaching out (not the bar, not the bar, didn't want to be here--) at the span of empty wall where the door had been.
reVolution reWind
Jan. 31st, 2007 05:48 pmsaionjisenpai.livejournal.comWhen last we looked, the Revolution was spinning as planned. The thing about revolutions is you're going in circles. Cycles. The Dueling. Cycle. The same players over and over and over again until one-- skips-- the-- track.
This is not Tenjou Utena's entry post.
The rose petals are green. That's how you know.
They flood the doorway, scatter over the floor, blanket it till it's like thick, floral carpet, from corner to corner, leaving the pungent aroma of roses from floor to ceiling, a thick miasma of near-choking perfume. Is that a glass coffin, there among them?
Of course not.
That's the red chassis of a car; a sleek, topless car -- but there is no boy spread out, his uniform open with unseen photographers catching him (and others) in suggestive, near carnal congress upon the hood of the car.
No. Not that.
It's too soon.
There's a boy with a mass of green hair and a ring of silver and stone hued pink, cut into the shape of a rose.
He sits at a table, and sips tea.
Did he ever really leave? Or did someone just -- flip the record, start the next groove?
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 06:15 pmmogget_catA young woman with translucently pale skin, wearing a simple white dress, is stretched out across the bar with a total disregard for the potential need of anyone else for a bit of space at the counter. Her white-haired head rests comfortably on her crossed arms.
If you need a space of countertop, you could... try and see if she'll move.
If you need a space of countertop, you could... try and see if she'll move.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 06:30 pmalways-win.livejournal.comA certain version of Snow White is in the bar, all business-like in pinstriped suit and heels, carrying today a smart-but-stylish briefcase. It looks for once as if she actually has business to conduct here, rather than using the place as an office.
Interesting.
Interesting.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:11 pmverymodelof.livejournal.comThe cast and crew at the studio are used to one or the other of the executive producers wandering around, yelling someone's name, and expecting them to appear. People in the bar, probably not so much, but it's Milliways, so it still probably won't draw any odd looks.
"Suzanne!" Danny shouts as he heads down the stairs, scanning the room for her. Subtlety? Not so much Danny's strong suit sometimes.
"Suzanne!" Danny shouts as he heads down the stairs, scanning the room for her. Subtlety? Not so much Danny's strong suit sometimes.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:28 pmmilkbonesoldier.livejournal.com[OOM: Normally introspection creeps up on Wells in the dark of new moon. This time, it caught him by surprise.]
He could not, could not, be inside today for more than five minutes. Wells put the Slayers through their paces outside, despite the wet and the cold and the muck of England. It earned him considerable ire, but he ignored it. It'll be better once the absolute inability to think of being hemmed in on all sides without wanting to bolt goes away. He'll make it up to them.
This is not the time for that, though. This is the time for getting his arse outside, stocking up on fuel for the firepit, and getting ready for an evening under impossible stars.
He could not, could not, be inside today for more than five minutes. Wells put the Slayers through their paces outside, despite the wet and the cold and the muck of England. It earned him considerable ire, but he ignored it. It'll be better once the absolute inability to think of being hemmed in on all sides without wanting to bolt goes away. He'll make it up to them.
This is not the time for that, though. This is the time for getting his arse outside, stocking up on fuel for the firepit, and getting ready for an evening under impossible stars.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:36 pmk_in_black[OOM: After months of covert field operations, a few lethal confrontations, and some startling discoveries, the Men in Black finally gather for a high-level briefing about the alien manifestation known as Black Oil.
First the Men in Black had to cope with their own canon-puncturing. Then they learned how much knowing about Milliways can mess with an agent's take on the universe. But now the really bad news starts.
From a lost holo-datachip of the MiB Archives, this is part three.]
First the Men in Black had to cope with their own canon-puncturing. Then they learned how much knowing about Milliways can mess with an agent's take on the universe. But now the really bad news starts.
From a lost holo-datachip of the MiB Archives, this is part three.]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:39 pmevryinchbut1.livejournal.comValerie's making the rounds, tray and notepad in hand. Feel free to flag her down.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:50 pmnotjustnarrator.livejournal.com[OOM: Nick's thoughts can open doors!]
When the door opens, Nick Carraway comes rushing happily back into the bar.
Rushing.
In fact, he's so happy to be back that he doesn't notice the table in his path and takes a rather swift tumble clear over it, landing rump-first on the floor.
It hurts. It hurts, and that's how he knows he's back for sure.
And when he peers over his shoulder, the door is still there.
It is not often that a grown man is witnessed squeeing with joy, so, patrons of Milliways, view this event before the planets disalign!
In any case, there is now a very happy (and somewhat changed) Nick Carraway on the floor of the bar.
When the door opens, Nick Carraway comes rushing happily back into the bar.
Rushing.
In fact, he's so happy to be back that he doesn't notice the table in his path and takes a rather swift tumble clear over it, landing rump-first on the floor.
It hurts. It hurts, and that's how he knows he's back for sure.
And when he peers over his shoulder, the door is still there.
In any case, there is now a very happy (and somewhat changed) Nick Carraway on the floor of the bar.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:53 pmno-war-here.livejournal.comSince he got here, Mark Fossie has definitely not been hiding from his ex-girlfriend. Or her husband. Or any member of her family. It's just that a bar at the end of the universe can be a little overwhelming for a guy, so he figured a low profile was his best bet.
Still, even low-profile guys need a drink.
Thus, we have Mark at the bar with a basket of onion rings. Conversation is welcome; he may even share the food.
Still, even low-profile guys need a drink.
Thus, we have Mark at the bar with a basket of onion rings. Conversation is welcome; he may even share the food.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 08:00 pmunique-moments.livejournal.com[Final OOM: And all things come to a good end for Samantha Largeman. It all falls into place.
And Milliways isn't in her life plan anymore.]
And Milliways isn't in her life plan anymore.]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 08:03 pmhannah-rayburn.livejournal.comA very nervous looking 12-year-old girl in a Catholic school uniform has just entered the bar. Hannah Rayburn had thought that finding the bar at St. Christina's the first time had been a simple fluke, or a hallucination brought on by the cafeteria's meat loaf. But now it's back, just as she should be on her way to take a history test.
And this time she doesn't have a brave best friend to back her up, as Grace is home sick with a cold. It's really only the thought of Grace that's keeping her from bolting back out the door. If Grace finds out (as she most certainly will) that Hannah has stumbled onto Milliways again only to cut and run, Hannah knows she'll never hear the end of it.
And then there's the history test, which she is so not ready to take.
So right now she's hovering on the fringes, clutching her textbooks with both arms, trying to talk herself into a more courageous frame of mind.
And this time she doesn't have a brave best friend to back her up, as Grace is home sick with a cold. It's really only the thought of Grace that's keeping her from bolting back out the door. If Grace finds out (as she most certainly will) that Hannah has stumbled onto Milliways again only to cut and run, Hannah knows she'll never hear the end of it.
And then there's the history test, which she is so not ready to take.
So right now she's hovering on the fringes, clutching her textbooks with both arms, trying to talk herself into a more courageous frame of mind.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 08:12 pmcandlesandgrass.livejournal.comNor has been in and out of the bar a few times since she arrived, but she's mostly been curled up in her room catching up on decent sleep and sweetish dreams, or eating.
However, she's downstairs now, in a booth, sipping at a cup of ice cold water as if it's nectar of the gods and staring at the tabletop like the meaning of life is carved into it. Conversation is welcome, but we should warn you she's not entirely sane. Seems like Southstairs has finally taken it's toll on her mental stability, now that she's out and doesn't need her wits about her constantly.
However, she's downstairs now, in a booth, sipping at a cup of ice cold water as if it's nectar of the gods and staring at the tabletop like the meaning of life is carved into it. Conversation is welcome, but we should warn you she's not entirely sane. Seems like Southstairs has finally taken it's toll on her mental stability, now that she's out and doesn't need her wits about her constantly.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 08:24 pmaintaboy.livejournal.comFollowing Makita's advice, Smellerbee's spent the past few nights in Bar waiting for Jet when he finally did show up. She's moved to a few different tables trying to find a good vantage point. And when she got tired, she curled up in a booth and went to sleep.
Which is what she's doing now.
Bother if you wish, but be gentle (because Freedom Fighter instincts never go away).
Which is what she's doing now.
Bother if you wish, but be gentle (because Freedom Fighter instincts never go away).
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 08:30 pmnita_callahan[OOM: Time to make plans.]
Nita's looking considerably calmer when she comes in than her last visit to the bar.
The concentration's still there, though, focused and bright.
She drops onto a barstool, orders tea (Bar still makes the best tea), and settles in.
(Bar also delivers an apple, somewhat to Nita's confusion.
. . . Tastes okay, though.)
Nita's looking considerably calmer when she comes in than her last visit to the bar.
The concentration's still there, though, focused and bright.
She drops onto a barstool, orders tea (Bar still makes the best tea), and settles in.
(Bar also delivers an apple, somewhat to Nita's confusion.
. . . Tastes okay, though.)
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 08:46 pmbannion_sight[OOM: She had sent the others on ahead, but when Kim Ford returns to Fionavar, she is not alone.
And as it turns out, the earliest hours of the following dawn bring a series of shocks for everyone.]
And as it turns out, the earliest hours of the following dawn bring a series of shocks for everyone.]
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:01 pmgiftedthom.livejournal.com*Combing the snow out of his hair with one hand, Thom re-enters the bar. Unfortunately, it just slides down his collar, which makes him stifle a squeak.
He orders a drink, and pretends that that noise never happened.*
He orders a drink, and pretends that that noise never happened.*
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:12 pmsime-channel.livejournal.comSuzi is curled up on the couch, watching the space the door is probably at, leaning against Whistler and the remnants of a meal are being taken away by rats. Joy is upstairs, sometimes the people want a begging-free meal.
At this point Suzi has a book balanced on her knees, and is speaking softly, "The Prince of True Believers asked: "Why so? And why wilt thou not acquaint me with thy case?" and Abu al-Hasan answered, "Know, O my lord, that my story is strange and that there is a cause for this affair." Quoth Al-Rashid, "And what is the cause?" and quoth he, "The cause hath a tail." The Caliph laughed at his words and Abu al-Hasan said, "I will explain to thee this saying by the tale of the larrikin and the cook."
How can you not enjoy reading from the Arabian Nights?
At this point Suzi has a book balanced on her knees, and is speaking softly, "The Prince of True Believers asked: "Why so? And why wilt thou not acquaint me with thy case?" and Abu al-Hasan answered, "Know, O my lord, that my story is strange and that there is a cause for this affair." Quoth Al-Rashid, "And what is the cause?" and quoth he, "The cause hath a tail." The Caliph laughed at his words and Abu al-Hasan said, "I will explain to thee this saying by the tale of the larrikin and the cook."
How can you not enjoy reading from the Arabian Nights?
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:18 pmblue_ajahMatters in the Summer Country are proceeding as it seems they must. Unobtrusively, the Aes Sedai does what she may, where she may, and keeps a watchful eye on everything that she can.
Still, she does not forget the responsibilities that she has to others, perhaps most especially to those of her own world. Therefore, when she discovers this evening that she is unable to herself weave a Gateway to Milliways from the castle beyond the North Wind, Moiraine immediately goes in search of Gwion.
"It is no trouble at all," the harper assures her as the front door opens and the two of them walk through together, heading for a table. "I had been meaning to make a visit, anyway."
"Nevertheless, I appreciate both your assistance -- and your company, as always," Moiraine replies, with a faint smile.
Still, she does not forget the responsibilities that she has to others, perhaps most especially to those of her own world. Therefore, when she discovers this evening that she is unable to herself weave a Gateway to Milliways from the castle beyond the North Wind, Moiraine immediately goes in search of Gwion.
"It is no trouble at all," the harper assures her as the front door opens and the two of them walk through together, heading for a table. "I had been meaning to make a visit, anyway."
"Nevertheless, I appreciate both your assistance -- and your company, as always," Moiraine replies, with a faint smile.
Multi-pup post
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:22 pmguppy_sandhuSince for the first time in three days, his mun hasn't had to sit drawing and writing about brains all evening
Guppy is in the bar, near the infirmary, and looking better than he has of late. He's slept enough to be functional, and despite the fact that the department is still in staffing and emotional chaos (which let's face it, is nothing new) hasn't had too bad a day. Particulary since most of the afternoon was spent dealing with members of a choir where the only qualification of entry was not having your own teeth (tour coach RTC, no serious casualties).
The doctor is in
***
Johnny Private has had the simulator baby doll for about two weeks now, and although passing the test on several of the days, hasn't managed three in a row yet. He looks pretty shattered and all to tell the truth.
He's hopeful tonight as he sits the doll carefully down on the Bar and waits for the printout (Detailing how long the baby was left crying, how hungry it got, whether he left it upside down and so on).
This time he has managed to pass all but one category, he notes as he skims the printout. Then stops and traces the final piece of advice written on it with his finger.
"What do you mean I'm not allowed to smoke around it? Both my parents smoked around me and it never did me any harm."
He coughs a chesty smoker's cough, shrugs and takes the doll over to a nearby booth. He places it carefully supported by cushions then gets out the cigarettes and looks at them. And tries to read the warning label on them.
"Smo-king causes... im-patience?"
Guppy is in the bar, near the infirmary, and looking better than he has of late. He's slept enough to be functional, and despite the fact that the department is still in staffing and emotional chaos (which let's face it, is nothing new) hasn't had too bad a day. Particulary since most of the afternoon was spent dealing with members of a choir where the only qualification of entry was not having your own teeth (tour coach RTC, no serious casualties).
The doctor is in
***
Johnny Private has had the simulator baby doll for about two weeks now, and although passing the test on several of the days, hasn't managed three in a row yet. He looks pretty shattered and all to tell the truth.
He's hopeful tonight as he sits the doll carefully down on the Bar and waits for the printout (Detailing how long the baby was left crying, how hungry it got, whether he left it upside down and so on).
This time he has managed to pass all but one category, he notes as he skims the printout. Then stops and traces the final piece of advice written on it with his finger.
"What do you mean I'm not allowed to smoke around it? Both my parents smoked around me and it never did me any harm."
He coughs a chesty smoker's cough, shrugs and takes the doll over to a nearby booth. He places it carefully supported by cushions then gets out the cigarettes and looks at them. And tries to read the warning label on them.
"Smo-king causes... im-patience?"
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:24 pmwellthrownstone.livejournal.comThe Rivan King does not have shrimp on his head. In fact, it has been decided by the sparkly d12 of decision making that the world of Gara has no shrimp. It has further been realized that this more than likely was due to shrimp being assigned to Issa, who discovered that the water was shiny and wet and stopped right there.
So yes. Garion is from a World Without Shrimp. FYI.*
That said, strange tiny lobsters are not on Garion's head. His son is slumped there, arms wrapped around his father's head as he dozes and every once in a while Garion asks him if he'd like to join his sister down on Garion's lap and he keeps refusing. Garion isn't about to force it, but he does keep asking.
Beldaran is quite awake, playing thoughtfully with a stick that doesn't seem to have more than one end.
...feel free to come by.
__________________________
*this random tangent brought to you by a loooong day at work
So yes. Garion is from a World Without Shrimp. FYI.*
That said, strange tiny lobsters are not on Garion's head. His son is slumped there, arms wrapped around his father's head as he dozes and every once in a while Garion asks him if he'd like to join his sister down on Garion's lap and he keeps refusing. Garion isn't about to force it, but he does keep asking.
Beldaran is quite awake, playing thoughtfully with a stick that doesn't seem to have more than one end.
...feel free to come by.
__________________________
*this random tangent brought to you by a loooong day at work
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:42 pmmnt_mikeIn a world where worlds collide every hour on the hour.
somewhere is a beatbox.
In a time that is forever timeless...and yet still, somehow, Wednesday.
thrumming sharp, staccato beats
In a place as varied and unique as those that inhabit it.
it's all so familiar.
One Turtle.
One Bar.
One set of nightly Specials.
A plot 300 minutes in the making.
Bar.
Michaelangelo.
And a cast of thousands
IN
HAPPY HOUR!
"GO NINJA! GO NINJA! GO, NINJA GO!"
under 13 not admitted without parent.
somewhere is a beatbox.
In a time that is forever timeless...and yet still, somehow, Wednesday.
thrumming sharp, staccato beats
In a place as varied and unique as those that inhabit it.
it's all so familiar.
One Turtle.
One Bar.
One set of nightly Specials.
A plot 300 minutes in the making.
Bar.
Michaelangelo.
And a cast of thousands
IN
HAPPY HOUR!
"GO NINJA! GO NINJA! GO, NINJA GO!"
under 13 not admitted without parent.
lady of the lake
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:53 pmanalucia-cortez.livejournal.comThere she sits, holding an interesting book in her hands. Ana Lucia arches a dark brow as she flips the page of the novel with an olive colored index finger and begins to get more into the book. Had she forgotten that Ben had said the lake was his favorite place? Or did she purposely force herself to read an atrocious book and park her ass by said lake.
It was boring. She didn't even know what it was because the cover had been ripped off, but Ana had found it in the lost and found of the cafe.
It was boring. She didn't even know what it was because the cover had been ripped off, but Ana had found it in the lost and found of the cafe.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:55 pmyoung_tmriddleOOM: Millitimed to last weekend, Bernard visits Tom in the House of Arch for scotch and discussion.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 09:58 pmhatchingviper.livejournal.comWesker's not sure when he'll be leaving the bar to help with outside business, but he expects it to be soon.
He's collected a small backpack from Bar, and is busy packing it. First-aid kit, vials and a pair of sterilized hypodermic needles, protective gloves, cash converted to pounds, his lab coat and goggles, some food and water. . . and a sheath of lab notes that he hasn't gleaned much of use from.
He looks a little busy. And cranky about that last item.
((About to be an exit post with free bonus note and leading to OOMs; sorry, but I'm afraid this means plotlocked to Cooper, pleaseandthankyou.))
He's collected a small backpack from Bar, and is busy packing it. First-aid kit, vials and a pair of sterilized hypodermic needles, protective gloves, cash converted to pounds, his lab coat and goggles, some food and water. . . and a sheath of lab notes that he hasn't gleaned much of use from.
He looks a little busy. And cranky about that last item.
((About to be an exit post with free bonus note and leading to OOMs; sorry, but I'm afraid this means plotlocked to Cooper, pleaseandthankyou.))
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 10:39 pmigottawrite.livejournal.comSo there's this thing that the staff of CSC the White House Studio 60 does, where it's hard to pin people down when you need them, so you get used to conversations on the move. The furnished offices are just for show, really: more important decisions have been made in the hallways than the network execs will ever want to know.
Matt's suited to pedeconferencing: he's the restless sort anyway, and more so when he's unable to do something vital, like write or leave or see Harriet. Not only that, but so far he knows about three people in this place, and one of them is Danny and the other one's his assistant, so it's not like they actually count. So if you see the neurotic head writer of a sketch comedy show coming your way and you have something to say to him -- an introduction, a question, a tap-dance, even -- that's great, but can we do this walking?
[[note! So, if you've ever seen anything by Aaron Sorkin, you'll know that walk-and-talks can involve many different people in and out at once. Feel free to tag individually, or onto someone else's conversation. Also,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
omniscient_pa has been instructed to keep Matt and anyone who comes in contact with him out of trouble, so -- two muns and instant peanut gallery, at your disposal!]]
Matt's suited to pedeconferencing: he's the restless sort anyway, and more so when he's unable to do something vital, like write or leave or see Harriet. Not only that, but so far he knows about three people in this place, and one of them is Danny and the other one's his assistant, so it's not like they actually count. So if you see the neurotic head writer of a sketch comedy show coming your way and you have something to say to him -- an introduction, a question, a tap-dance, even -- that's great, but can we do this walking?
[[note! So, if you've ever seen anything by Aaron Sorkin, you'll know that walk-and-talks can involve many different people in and out at once. Feel free to tag individually, or onto someone else's conversation. Also,
omniscient_pa has been instructed to keep Matt and anyone who comes in contact with him out of trouble, so -- two muns and instant peanut gallery, at your disposal!]](no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 11:02 pmfighting_madThe Emperor Rial Pernon and Empress Isplourrdacartha Estillo, now officially on the throne of Eiattu IV, are in the bar tonight.
Isplourrdacartha is settled in a chair, dressed as formally as she ever has been or ever will be; the cream-colored gown is long with sweeping skirts that entirely hide the chair's seat. The dress's neckline stretches wide, leaving bare broad shoulders and just a hint of décolletage, and the sleeves hang long but have been slit high to allow for movement. She wears a royal purple sash from one arm to her opposite hip, and far more wealth (jewelry) than she is accustomed to carrying on her at once. She has even been pressed into makeup (with a great deal of protest), eyes lined in black kohl and lips painted dark. The crown is high in the front; tall and silver and glittering, and some wise soul has wound her hair around the low rim in the back, so that she can't easily take it off.
Rial sits across the table from her. Much to his annoyance, the outfit that he has been forced into includes epaulets, suspiciously shiny trousers, and a white dress jacket with a purple sash nearly identical to Plourr's own. He wears the red crest of Eiattu pinned to his jacket, just below his throat, and, his one and only rebellion, a small gold hoop in his left ear.
Perhaps things have not changed so much, though. The emperor finishes relating an anecdote, grinning, and the empress breaks into raucous laughter.
All that coronating was thirsty work; Rial has a glass of wine, and Plourr, ever the lady, is more than happy to be drinking bourbon. It's over, finally, and thus, there are two relieved, rather cheerful monarchs to be found in Milliways tonight.
Isplourrdacartha is settled in a chair, dressed as formally as she ever has been or ever will be; the cream-colored gown is long with sweeping skirts that entirely hide the chair's seat. The dress's neckline stretches wide, leaving bare broad shoulders and just a hint of décolletage, and the sleeves hang long but have been slit high to allow for movement. She wears a royal purple sash from one arm to her opposite hip, and far more wealth (jewelry) than she is accustomed to carrying on her at once. She has even been pressed into makeup (with a great deal of protest), eyes lined in black kohl and lips painted dark. The crown is high in the front; tall and silver and glittering, and some wise soul has wound her hair around the low rim in the back, so that she can't easily take it off.
Rial sits across the table from her. Much to his annoyance, the outfit that he has been forced into includes epaulets, suspiciously shiny trousers, and a white dress jacket with a purple sash nearly identical to Plourr's own. He wears the red crest of Eiattu pinned to his jacket, just below his throat, and, his one and only rebellion, a small gold hoop in his left ear.
Perhaps things have not changed so much, though. The emperor finishes relating an anecdote, grinning, and the empress breaks into raucous laughter.
All that coronating was thirsty work; Rial has a glass of wine, and Plourr, ever the lady, is more than happy to be drinking bourbon. It's over, finally, and thus, there are two relieved, rather cheerful monarchs to be found in Milliways tonight.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 11:04 pmtibetanmethodIt hasn't been a particularly bad day for Dale Cooper. No worse than usual, certainly. Reading local history whenever he can, down at the Bookhouse; reading fiction at night (Thomas Wolfe, lately, and slowly); reading a few pages of Madame Alexandra David-Néel in the morning, just after meditation, and just before heading to the station.
No, it hasn't been a particularly bad day. It's just that lately, his mind is filled with words, with so many different kinds of
(...meetings at the Grange erupted in fist fights. James Packard's famous speech of 1908 ended with these spell-binding words...)
words that seem to be so
("All right," said God, grandly, throwing away his cane. "You can go.")
difficult to process. It's not that they don't have meaning, it's that he
(I may, however, express the opinion stated by a lama: "The Bön pos," he said, "taught such a thing long before Padmasambhava came to Tibet.")
can't find it for himself -- like he's lost in the woods, and he can't see the stars to find his way out, and the moss on the trees doesn't grow on the north side, and there's no water that he can follow to find his way downstream. Coffee for once hasn't done the trick for Dale Cooper, and he's not sure what will, but he's feeling muddled enough (and thus desperate enough) to try an actual healthy, balanced meal for once. He may have the metabolism of a bumblebee, but that doesn't mean he couldn't do with something leafy and a helping of lean protein. (And -- shockingly -- tea. )
He's at a table, and he's got a newspaper with him that he's scanning, idly, as he eats.
The current headline of the Twin Peaks Gazette: Twin Peaks Savings and Loan To Be Rebuilt
No, it hasn't been a particularly bad day. It's just that lately, his mind is filled with words, with so many different kinds of
(...meetings at the Grange erupted in fist fights. James Packard's famous speech of 1908 ended with these spell-binding words...)
words that seem to be so
("All right," said God, grandly, throwing away his cane. "You can go.")
difficult to process. It's not that they don't have meaning, it's that he
(I may, however, express the opinion stated by a lama: "The Bön pos," he said, "taught such a thing long before Padmasambhava came to Tibet.")
can't find it for himself -- like he's lost in the woods, and he can't see the stars to find his way out, and the moss on the trees doesn't grow on the north side, and there's no water that he can follow to find his way downstream. Coffee for once hasn't done the trick for Dale Cooper, and he's not sure what will, but he's feeling muddled enough (and thus desperate enough) to try an actual healthy, balanced meal for once. He may have the metabolism of a bumblebee, but that doesn't mean he couldn't do with something leafy and a helping of lean protein. (And -- shockingly -- tea. )
He's at a table, and he's got a newspaper with him that he's scanning, idly, as he eats.
The current headline of the Twin Peaks Gazette: Twin Peaks Savings and Loan To Be Rebuilt
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 11:43 pmregan_tamGabriel is busy with something, frowning at his source box and tapping out notes in incomprehensible private shorthand. Regan knows the signs well; he's in the preliminary stages of a new idea, and hard at work on putting together the pieces into some kind of coherent whole. When he has his thoughts in better order, he'll talk about it to her, and they'll brainstorm and pick at it together.
Until then, though, he won't be good for much besides vague and distracted conversation, which is one of the reasons Regan has decided to bring her own datapad and notes to Milliways for the evening. (There are at least two other very strong reasons, and their names are Simon and River.)
She's ensconced at one of the smaller tables, with tea and a small bowl of dumplings. There's a sheet of digital paper in front of her, slowly scrolling through dense text, and every so often she makes a note on the datapad.
Until then, though, he won't be good for much besides vague and distracted conversation, which is one of the reasons Regan has decided to bring her own datapad and notes to Milliways for the evening. (There are at least two other very strong reasons, and their names are Simon and River.)
She's ensconced at one of the smaller tables, with tea and a small bowl of dumplings. There's a sheet of digital paper in front of her, slowly scrolling through dense text, and every so often she makes a note on the datapad.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 11:49 pmexplorertruman.livejournal.comTruman was in the bar, sitting by the fire. No hot chocolate, Bar gave him some tea instead which he seemed grateful. His usual hot drink of choice would only...
would only...
stir up fragments. That Eden woman was nice, mostly, but something happened. The brain was a mysterious thing. Sometimes similar incidents or injuries react. The memories may be gone, but sometimes... there are hints of a imprint.
He sipped his tea thoughtfully. Too dark in here. He thought to himself, feeling a bit anxious or worried, and not really understanding why.
shadows running along
would only...
cold, light blotting out
...stir up fragments. That Eden woman was nice, mostly, but something happened. The brain was a mysterious thing. Sometimes similar incidents or injuries react. The memories may be gone, but sometimes... there are hints of a imprint.
He sipped his tea thoughtfully. Too dark in here. He thought to himself, feeling a bit anxious or worried, and not really understanding why.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2007 11:53 pmmissginnytonic.livejournal.comGinny walks in to the bar. Through a door she's grateful has never been lost to her. She is Glad she's never been bound.
But she looks slightly confused she wasn't expecting to be here seems the door here keeps showing up in new places.
