milliways_bar | Feb. 16th, 2007

Feb. 16th, 2007

notagod-apollo.livejournal.com

There's a table off to one side of the bar where two people are sitting. There's a bottle of bright green liquid, half empty, and two glasses. There's also a deck of hexagonal cards, and two piles of strips of paper.

Starbuck and Apollo don't really have any cubits to gamble with, so guess what they're betting?

Two pups, two muns, tag if you will.

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

Two men are at the bar. They are near each other, but are decidedly not together.

They are, for different yet analogous reasons, extremely glad to have missed Valentine's Day. Now thank the gods, it's safe in the bar once again, so Malcolm and Wesley are back downstairs, drinking a Glenmorangie and a Lagavulin respectively.

And not talking. If they're interacting at all, it's only to shoot glances of mutual, heartfelt disdain and annoyance in one another's direction.

(After all, it's not their fault they share the same mun.)

teh-data-fork.livejournal.com

[OOM: Adam and Chloe go to New Jersey for pizza, have a blazing row, make up, hang out, make out, have hot geeky sex, bicker some more, and cuddle. In that order.

They never do actually get any pizza.]

poisonwine

(Millitimed to earlier in the day)

On her way out the door, Belle drops off a package for Remy.

She also orders a sandwich and a refill for her large insulated coffee cup.

And then she leaves, considerably more cheerful.

lady_moon

[OOM: Moon meets Indy for their little field trip on Monday, stopping first at the tarot's world. On Tuesday, Moon takes Indy to Legoland, where they 'comandeer' the Legoland Express for their own needs. Valentine's Day finds them having a picnic and negotiating the liberation of brownies.

First thread has warnings for skinny dipping, second thread for reckless destruction of Legos, and the third for schmooping.]

futures_of_ash

It had not been a good week for Rachel. She could admit that to herself. For reasons various and sundry she knew that she should not be indoors. No, not when she was on edge and almost snarling at shadows...

But she was on shift. She had a Duty, and she would not abandon that, no matter how hard, personally, the endurance of walls.

And so, there was a security member in Bar, pacing with all the grace and energy of a caged panther. And if flame played upon her skin half the time, and swam in her hair...well, there were stranger things in Milliways.

themerlin

Merlin sat in a booth, several books strewn across the table in front of him, carefully. Even in their chaos, none were placed so as to damage them. He was staring into the distance, mind focused on thinking of recent events, about the people he has met, and about his future. As he thinks, he hums, softly.

His hands stray to the books, and he picks one up and attempts to read it, but then he sighs and puts it back down again and continues to think, and stares into nothingness. This is repeated a number of times. He is distracted, and somewhat uneasy this morning. And he isn't sure why.

oh-wowee.livejournal.com

Scandinavian inna bar.

And he certainly doesn't seem as snappish as he was when he left the bar the day previous. He was currently working on writing a new 'Hi, My name is' nametag, scribbling in both red and black pen, the tip of his tongue stuck off to the side of his lips, brow furrowed.

It looked something like -
Hellø my name is:

Tøki Wartøøth
DethKløk
Nørvey :D

Except maybe a little (make that a lot) less unreadable.
Pester the Nørveygian?

(little OOC moment here, my intarwubs is being a butt today so if I don't get to your tag absolutely immediately, s'probably because I'm currently hitting the modem with sticks and grunting at it. I may even be flinging poo at the Qwest technician.)

gone_byebye

The problem with living in the Firehouse is that you don't live alone. Normally, this isn't a problem. Four guys of different clothing sizes and proclivities (and, if we are being honest, questionable taste) aren't going to cause each other too much trouble on laundry day, for the most part. The problems arise from other things- pranks, for example. Peter Venkman's pretty bad about those, and sometimes they get very, very messy indeed.

No, literally. Slimer lives in Ray's Firehouse, you see, and two days after Valentine's Day the stores aren't full of holiday candy any more. They're full of spud bait. Which may explain why Ray wanders into the Bar shouting over his shoulder about finding the detergent, but it doesn't account for his sudden "eep!" noise and bright red color as he realizes he's just walked into Milliways. Sure, he's wearing a pair of out-of-season shorts and a T-shirt in the lack of slime-free clothing, but-

Oh. Er. That would be why.

The T-shirt is the "I SURVIVED ORDER 66" shirt Peter gave him for Christmas a few years ago. It's printed in English and Aurebesh.

oy.

wyrd-fox.livejournal.com

See Foxtrot.

See Foxtrot at a table.

See Foxtrot at a table, contemplating a two-liter bottle of Diet Coke and a packet of Mentos candies.

Looks like someone's been told about something fun and very messy.

Current Mood: mischievous

feminine-menace.livejournal.com

(OOC: Millitimed to after my introductory thread.)

YT's doing her best to try and adjust to Milliway's: from what she's heard, she is going to be here for a while. And after she gets out, whenever that may be, she is going to come back, whether she wants to or not. Unless she's dreaming all this, of course - but she is finding it increasingly difficult to believe that's the case. Dreams, as Juanita once said to her, are inconsistent by nature. And while YT's arrival here was definitely not consistent with what she had been doing before, everything since then has been about Reality-grade. Or at least more than Metaverse-grade.

This whole thing kind of scares her, but there's no point in getting all wigged out about it. The best thing she can do right now is get a feel for the place, learn its traffic patterns, its unspoken rules. She has to get a foothold before she can establish her space on the pavement. So she's wandering around, trying to look casual, basically eavesdropping on the fly - a skill she honed at the Black Sun.

Unfortunately, since she hasn't gotten into the groove of this place yet, she is prone to doing a wilson once in a while. If she'd been on more familiar turf, with her proximity sense working right, it wouldn't have happened. But she was distracted, not looking where she was going...

works-in-space.livejournal.com

On the other side of the door, the pristine lines of a well-appointed Vulcan conference room. On this side, an admiral. He's not happy to see this place, to be honest, but is quite relieved to see that there is still a door. He opens it and closes it and tests it to make sure it's not going away. Oh, it might yet, but at least he knows that he can leave and not lose time at home.

And the Vulcans really don't know how to make coffee. So maybe he can still a little while, and take a chance that he can get home in hours instead of days. Or weeks.

mitanarchist

Waiting any longer would have just made things that much more difficult.

He looked around the bar once, but didn't see Angel.

Maybe it's better this way.

Even in his own mind, he wasn't convinced.

The door beckoned and he walked through.

[ooc: College!Collins has left the building.]

turned_captain

Will was a puppet. Stop laughing, it was horrible. He spent that entire time in his room.

Where he was absolutely not constantly admiring his hat.

Since then, life's been back to relative normal. Until two days ago when Bar kept trying to persuade him to take chocolates and flowers. After a rather confusing conversation with a napkin, it occursed to him that he missed an opportunity to give Elizabeth a gift.

Not that he needs excuses, but nevertheless.

He's now in a well lit booth to the side somewhere, surrounded by a plethora of tools he's not usually seen with. They're small, and fiddly even in his relatively small hands, being used as they are to larger techniques. But he's bent with some care and characteristic single mindedness over something small and silver, determined to produce something worthy.

It's possible bar just wanted him to buy her flowers and chocolates.

whiteabsolution.livejournal.com

Sugar is sitting in a booth, all alone, with books and magazines spread out in front of her. She was going to try her best to learn all she could about the different time periods after her, their music, their clothing, their art; everything she read was pushed to the back of her mind and saved for later. Once in a while she tears out a page of a magazine and places it under her right elbow, then continues looking through countless magazines.

A small sigh comes from her, her eyes are weary and her lips are dry, as well as her mouth. She stops a waitrat, placing an order for a lemonade, some toast and jam. Leaning back in her booth, she looks at the patrons, welcoming them silently to converse with her.

the_antiangst

The money and food have been gathered, the latter in some bright purple Tupperware - Angel's chalking that up to the bar's sense of humor. It's right up there with the chopsticks.
He's left notes for the first few people he talked to; nothing fancy, just thanking them for their help.
Collins... well. They'll have to take their chances out in the real world. And maybe Angel's always had too much faith in things working out, but he thinks there's a chance they'll meet again.
And with that in mind, he heads out.

(Complete with retroactive OOMs - Angel gets on with life, and so does Collins.
Thanks to y'all for putting up with me and my time warp. XD)

jianhuo.livejournal.com

It's absolutely possible that Valentine's Day was ignored and the redhead managed to stay out of sight for a full twenty-four hours just because everyone else was occupied with love and cuddles and puppies and rainbows. It's also entirely possible that she and Bill spent the day in her apartment with movies and room service.

...Of course, she'll have to watch all those movies again by herself one day, but right now, she's not feeling the loss.

What happened exactly? How far did it go? Why isn't there yet-another-ring on her finger?

Well, you'd have to ask her.

It's a good opportunity: she's coming down the stairs now, humming softly to herself as she comes up to Bar to ask for a cup of tea.

It's also possible that she's become so used to things, she has yet to notice there's a door in the wall that was never there before.

To her.

slayer_fray

It goes like this:

Mikey's human.
Harth's back.
But Mel, Mel still has Things to Do.

So finally she left the bar late last night, to check for jobs, slay some vampires, leave an apology with Erin. And then she returned, scythe in tow, in order to grab breakfast before heading out to the lakeside.

Her fighting style's still skitzed, and she wants to figure out what's wrong.

the_lioness

[OOM: Things rarely happen the way you expect.

Alanna certainly didn't expect going into labor to be ANYTHING like this.]

The staff door opens.

Supported by Adam and Raven, Alanna waddles through, looking not so much in pain as severely disgruntled. Lucy follows close behind. Slowly but surely, they make their way across the bar and out the front door, Alanna grumbling something about being forced to leave her sword behind.

fathers-cleric.livejournal.com

[OOM: You might remember some Political, Things, Happened to Preston the last time, that resulted in him being put into the cells.

Things have gotten Much, Worse]

A door opens.

John Preston was not expecting this. Not by a long shot. Pain physically assaults him as he clings to the walls of the bar-before being thrown back by the sensation it produces.

Stifling a cough, he wraps his hands around his shoulder-stepping inside-

Only to have the door slam shut behind him.

"...No-." It's worse then any of the other times he's been stuck here, "-Oh no, no, not now, please not now-"

He's practically pleading with the wall to open.

But after a few minutes, he accepts that it's no use-and walks-oddly. As far away from the window as he can get. He's trying to make it to the booths in the back.

Catch him! You know you want to.

undignified

Wes wanders in through the front door halfway through pulling on his jacket. He looks up, goes, "Huh," and walks back out -- but not before fishing in his pockets and coming up with a dead power cell with which to prop open the door, just to make sure it stays there.

When he returns, kicking the power cell into his room behind him, it's minus the jacket and plus one terribly obnoxious cloak. Not that he thinks it's obnoxious -- it's practically a work of art, truly, with flatscreen panels in the material currently displaying lines of dancing, well, hims.

He did promise, after all.

The Specials board gets a simple WHISKEY, Aurebesh scrawled underneath it.

With a rather unnecessary flourish, he turns to face the bar (cloak somehow not catching anything -- there's a knack, you see, and he practised a lot on Adumar), and grins. "What can I getcha?"

mendanddefend_archive

Bob's here.

He's been here for the past week, guarding the door like he promised. You just haven't noticed him.

Why haven't you noticed him? Because.

Just... because.

Shut up.

ff-ambassador.livejournal.com

[OOM: Mal comes back to Inara's shuttle after his visit with Kitty, slightly worse for wear. Millitimed to last night.]

captainryan.livejournal.com

Ryan's outside right now with a shovel borrowed from Bar. He's digging a round hole near the lake but a good distance from the door to inside. Nearby there's a man-sized log that's been dragged from the forest, judging by the marks in the ground.

Ask him what he's working on. He won't bite.

[OOC: Mun is again at work, but has a proper Net connection. *cheers* Please tag away.]

bloodyrockgod

A little lady comes running into the bar.

And then she runs out again--and comes in, this time dragging Charlie by the hand, who's got Keiran and a baby bag on his other arm. "Play wif me, Charlie!" Georgia demands.

"Yes, Empress," Charlie says, laughing.

So, two bebbeh gods and their nanny in a bar. Watch out for falling cherry blossoms.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

There is something to be said for the art of turning explosions into transportation-

Which may be why Wellard is reading a book on the mechanics of combustion engines. Of course, by reading it at a table down in the bar, this means he is quite open to distractions.

(Or, being asked 'wtf' about a certain survey that Mary has attached his name to. Either is good.)

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

[OOM: The transmat beam back to Nerva is interrupted by the Timelords, sending Sarah Jane, Harry, and the Doctor to Skaro to prevent the development of the Daleks. It's fun times for all.]

the-wrenster.livejournal.com

A door appears on the wall of the Bar, but its not a normal door. This door is about five and a half feet off the ground, metal and perfectly square in shape.

On the other side can be heard a scream of pain.

The handle in the center turns and with a pneumatic hisss the inner section pops out and slides down. A man climbs out, revealing himself to be the source of the screaming. He has no visible injuries, but he seems to be in excruciating pain.

Without warning the man falls to the floor, head-first, as his cries start to taper off, and stays there motionless. Behind him the door closes and seals up again, then vanishes.

Welcome to Milliways, Rennes. At least its not the Cube.

agnes_nitt

Agnes is not going to let her condition stop her from her work. Despite how thoroughly unhealthy she is beginning to look -- cheeks hollow, eyes sunken, skin slightly yellowed. Even her hair looks thinner. She really hopes Nynaeve can come up with some kind of solution soon.

But for now, she's here. Her name up on the board and an arrow to her seat. She's still faster than the rats, after all.

deserved_it

After this, Eustace is looking for family and friends.

misterparker.livejournal.com

Parker is pacing inside, his strides angry.

Breaking point happens when he finishes his beer and goes outside, pitching it at the nearest tree.

last-king.livejournal.com

One year.

He's been here a year, and always, no matter how much he's enjoyed it here at times, there's always been the constant lingering ache of not home, and the memory of the state Narnia was in when he left it.

So when he enters from the House of Arch and sees the front door for the first time in that year, it's little wonder that he goes pale, breath catching sharply, and then sinks abruptly in the nearest available seat.

He's still staring at the door. For the moment, he doesn't have eyes for anything else.

necessary_child

Because his mun adores messing with her pup's head, and also because she adores her bebe!headvoice even more than that, a small Lucifer - one who will one day become Sam Linnfer - has found the bar again. He's currently sitting on Bar, swinging bare feet and watching the Observation Window with wide, fascinated inky eyes.

For the sake of keeping the multiverse vaguely intact, he has not been made acquainted with one Molly Hayes, who is wrapped up tight outside, looking vaguely moodily at the now decidedly unsummery lakeside. She could stand being bothered.

mnt_mike

First there was this.
Which was followed closely by this.

But what happened after that? To the two left behind? Where did they go? What did they do?
The door to the Lake opens, and in walks Jack and Mike. Really, walks is the wrong word. Staggers would be a little more accurate.

Lucy was right, this does read like a really bad joke.

"You know...when you said you wann'd to show me your sails at half mast, I thought you meant som'thin' totally different."

whiteabsolution.livejournal.com

Sugar is sitting at the end of the bar with a glass of water in her hands, watching intently as the drops of water on the outside roll over her fingers. She has nothing better to do, what do you expect?

trustydriver.livejournal.com

From the far side of the Front Door, one can hear a fight taking place. It sounds as if a small group of people is taking on a much larger and better-armed group... and winning.

A man's voice, muffled by the door: "She's getting away! She must be headed for the roof--"
Then a young woman's: "Red Panda, wait! You have to disable the device. I'll take care of Professor Zombie."
"All right. Good luck, Squirrel."
"You too, boss... you're gonna need it."

Approaching footsteps, and then... BAM! the Door bursts open, and a woman in a grey leotard comes barrelling in.

"Stop right where you are, Pro--" She trails off, blinking owlishly behind her goggles. "This place again?" she mutters under her breath.

Hopefully, no one heard that. Kit Baxter may have been to Milliways before, but the fearless fighting female known as The Flying Squirrel has not.

dats-dildoes.livejournal.com

After this conversation Skwisgaar had gone to the bar to make his flyer bigger before going to tack it to the notice board.

It said, in black and red sharpie:
Ones to being times of event,
Skwisgaar and Toki plays of guitars,
Best metals ever in universe,
Is goods idea fors of you to come

It may or may not have been legible, since it was bordered with TOTALLY METAL curlicues and also had 'tomorrows only!!!' scrawled along the bottom.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi has a late entrance with a big smile. She's had a good couple of days, one of the best bits finding out (carefully) that she can wear her glass slippers.

She's not wearing them right now, she's saving them for a special occasion. Right now she's just bubbly.

gorgonfondness

Mia is taking notes on the strange door that came with her to Milliways. Usually, there's a room attached to it, which would make observations easier.

The room, however, is stubborn and has compressed itself to the width of a playing card, making her door open to essentially nothing but wall.

She's sitting with her back against this wall, searching for her home's particular magic energy by comparing what she feels from the room with her staff and starlights.

There is a hedgehog wandering around by her feet which may have to go back to her room, as he has his own magic signature different from what she's looking for.

Not entirely unbotherable.

truequest.livejournal.com

After a brief stay in Hyrule, there is a new face in the bar.

Sheik strides through the door and sits at the bar, proping his/her feet up on another stool. After a few moments of looking a little confused, a glass of wine appears on the bar. Sheik raises an eyebrow in amusement, "Wine?" he/she murmurs. The wine disappears to be replaced with a glass of Jack Daniels. Sheik chuckles darkly. "That does seem more appropriate."

Some days just call for something stronger.

called_lioness

Letting someone with healer tendencies from 1949 into a hospital in 2007 is possibly foolish.

By which we mean, "Lucy maaay have been looking about with a bit more curiosity than was strictly warranted" but she did manage to (mostly) restrain herself from demanding answers to questions regarding Alanna's care. (Also, to show Raven, when no hospital staff members were around, she does remember the yarn trick for hair changing. Sunny will have to be shown, really. This she doesn't have to wash out.)

That aside, Alanna and Adam now have three children, no eyeballs were harmed in the birthing of said children, and Lucy has (more) tea.

A great deal of tea.

Possibly also two aspirin, after having written a note for Thom letting him know all the news there is to know.

the_lioness

[OOM: Birth.

The triplets arrive, and after Alanna comes around, Adam takes her to meet them.]

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

When there's a mentally linked room-mate involved, good news tends to travel fast.

Fresh from his travels earlier in the week, Indy gets wind of the new arrivals from Bar as he's setting up for his 'tending shift. And, with her help, he comes up with an appropriate theme for the occasion.

DRINKS SPECIALS

Adam
Sir Knight
Three Wise Men

All cider and rum drinks, three for the price of one!

Once that's taken care of, he moves up to the counter with a jubilant grin in place and makes an announcement to help the news on its way.

"Okay you lot! Alanna and Adam are now proud parents! Everyone's in decent health, far as I can gather, so it's Happy Hour at the bar for all your triplet toastin' needs."

"What'll it be?"

bring_a_sponge

Zed is back in one of the booths, glowering at his printouts of MiB Headquarters.

Next to the printouts is a black box, which anyone who's been around K would recognize as a MiB all-purpose scanner. And next to that is a thin black cylinder, which is projecting a three-dimensional keyboard on the surface of the table and a multi-colored holographic display hovering about a half foot up in the air.

Caution: Man in Black making strategy. Future DOOM for Black Oil a likely possibility.

un_fallen

Raguel has a distracted air as he comes in, but he takes the time to scan the bar as the door closes behind him. Apparently satisfied, he perches on a stool by the bar and begins smoking, slowly and methodically, one cigarette after another.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco's more relaxed then he's been in a while. Even been eating normally again. He was lounging in a booth, casually glancing at a book of Wilde's poems. T'was a gift if you must know. Also observing the bar at large.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is sitting by the fire, eating a satsuma.

The doctor is in

creator_raven

Raven, unlike some other helpful people present at the birth of the Antichrist's children, does not appear particularly weary.

It may be due to the plate of sugar cookies he has recently consumed, and his immense interest in how fast it will take him to eat the current stack in front of him.

It may also be because he is more used to birth than some people.

If not, precisely, in the way most people tend to be familiar with the act.

dead-comrade.livejournal.com

Krauser's found his way outside.

He's really not dressed warmly enough for the weather, but he seems comfortable. Or maybe he's just eating something hot? He's got a carryout box in one hand, and he walks for a time before brushing the snow from a rock and sitting, just looking over the lake.

Who is he? Why has he decided to come picnic on a rock by a frozen lake? Can the beret be borrowed for a little bit? The only way to know is to come ask.

river_meimei

This morning, Mal was limping like an ancient man, his cockeyed grin marred by an impressive collection of bruises.

River was the one crew member who didn't ask a single question.

She's sitting now tucked between two barstools, her back pressed to the bar, down at the end where she's at least somewhat out of the way. Just watching the room.

And the floor.