milliways_bar | Feb. 21st, 2007

Feb. 21st, 2007

lichvell-r.livejournal.com

Ravin comes downstairs, glancing around at all the costumed people. Oh, the joys of looking strange enough to not need a costume: she is the perfect goth teen all by her natural looks.

She moves to a table, somewhat out of the way, and settles to watch the weirdness.

cf1.livejournal.com

See, Bar gets more out of Cait if she does things in a more polite way. After shower, the tall redhead found the costume and a note on her bed, and decided to join the fun. Much better than having it imposed upon her.

So, costumed Gen-active downstairs, looking for her friends, but also open to meeting new people. Bother away!

mop-jockey.livejournal.com

With his morning coffee, Lenny gets a couple of strings of beads.

This makes him laugh mostly because he has no idea what day it was yesterday, and also because he realizes that Bar was kind enough to let him have a choice in the matter of dress, and much more often than not, she decides.

Because she's Bar, and she loves us all to PIECES.

Name's Lenny Inchpot, and I'm serving this morning. Holler!

With that, he takes to wandering around.

stupid-scar.livejournal.com

[OOM: A chance meeting in the infirmary leads Harry to uncover a devious secret plot that could alter both Wizard and Muggle worlds beyond all hope of repair...

Dun-dun-DUNNNNNNNNN.]

runmakitarun.livejournal.com

She's still not comfortable sleeping in her room, where it's quiet and there are no people. It's been too long since she was able to sleep in the sort of silence that generates. But now Makita is finding it hard to sleep in the bar proper as well. She's unarmed and it makes her twitchy on a nearly unconscious level.

This morning she wakes up gasping, eyes wide, reaching for something in her pocket that's not there. Which almost sends her into a panic. A few minutes of heavy breathing and wide-staring eyes and she'll be calmed down.

fallen-april.livejournal.com

The door opens slowly, like whoever's on the other side is trying to sneak in. That is, as a matter of fact, what the person on the other side is doing.

A small, brunette, pigtailed head pokes around the door, about level with the doorknob. Wide hazel eyes blink at the vastness of the bar. There's a pause, while the pigtails check to see if anyone on the other side is watching, and then comes in. The little girl can't be older than six, and might only be five - it's hard to tell.

Milliways, meet Princess Sarah Marilla Lucy Pevensie Blythe. Better known to those around here as April Cornwell.

[ooc: Okay, okay, you caught me. I figure that while April's out for a couple of days... She's very cute, very curious, very precocious, and very friendly. Come talk to her!]

inquisitivehero

Henry survived Mardi Gras and is glad it is over. Being stuck in a cookie monster outfit all day long was not fun. But things are back to normal, and he is resuming his quest. He has a goal, and several ideas of how to achieve it, and things are proceeding... slowly.

His table, not far from the fireplace, is scene to several neat stacks of books, and a large notepad, on which there are already many many notes. Finding out the truth of something isn't as easy as it seems when you first start, especially if you aren't willing to just accept the easy answers.

Luckily for Henry, he is determined to succeed, and willing to do what is necessary to get there.

So, Henry, at a table, studying, intent.

feminine-menace.livejournal.com

There was nobody in the bed other than herself when she awoke this morning, and there are no plastic bead necklaces around (the ones the Bar put on her are gone, and she figures if she'd earned some more, they would still be here). There is no evidence that she did anything really, blindingly stupid last night - except for a killer hangover and, well, the fact that she doesn't remember a large chunk of last night. She doesn't even remember where she stopped remembering.

After taking a shower so she looks and feels a bit less like death warmed over, she stumbles down the stairs into the Bar. "Grpmh. Fuckinell," she mutters as she emerges into what seems to her like a cruelly excessive amount of light, though in actuality it is no brighter than usual. She doesn't know what time it is, but she is dimly aware that there aren't many people around. Some are eating breakfast quietly, a few others are slumped on the tables, asleep. There is no mess from last night, although YT is sure that the patrons of the Bar must have made one. Either the waitrats or the Bar itself cleaned up good.

YT stumbles over to the bar proper and mumbles out a request for a glass of ice water. It appears, accompanied by two unasked-for aspirin in a small saucer. YT is not sure whether the Bar is trying to help or whether it's mocking her. She doesn't really care. She scoops up the medicine, drops it in her mouth and washes it down with the water, which is so cold it makes her teeth hurt and intensifies her throbbing headache. It also seems to clear the fog a bit.

She's always wondered if a Prairie Oyster actually works, and now seems as good a time as any to find out. But she'd better see if she can hold down plain water first.

bloodyrockgod

It's always a complicated process, trying to jibe the various timelines he has to deal with, but Charlie's determined. This is his third Milliways-based Lent, and he's not going to let it slide just because it's summer in San Diego. Sometimes a bloke needs a time of contemplation and discipline. Even this bloke.

So. Doorway in from California early this morning, out to Las Vegas for Mass, and back to the Bar again.

For a guy with ashes on his forehead, he looks pretty peaceful.

notjustnarrator.livejournal.com

[ooc: I'm going to crash for a nap, but will be around to tag later. Had to get this posted, though. :D]

Nick's bottom is still slightly sore from his trip on the ice yesterday, but he feels wide awake when he arrives downstairs from a night of very restful sleep.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of something.

His door is back. Again. So soon?

"Not yet," he mutters under his breath. "Soon, but not yet."

gone_byebye

Ray walks into the Bar with a brushed-metal robot dog takka takka takka-ing at his heels. There's no visible slime, and he only smells a little bit of ozone, but that's what happens when you come to Milliways without changing out of your jumpsuit and proton pack first. "Bar? I realize it's still morning in New York, but I've been on my feet for nine hours straight and-"

He gets a glass of blue stuff somewhat brighter and bluer than Windex, and a note.

"... eeeek."

1st_starfighter

[Not Really Out of Milliways: Alex Rogan does not have a great Mardi Gras. But, all things end, and he wakes the next morning.]

works-in-space.livejournal.com

[OOM: On Vulcan, preparations for the voyage home begin]

http://users.livejournal.com/_to_the_bone/

Jack is sprawled out on the lake bank, still in the jacket from Mardi Gras because he thinks it's very lovely and hasn't changed yet.

He's daydreaming. Right now, there's a pirate ship and an ocean of ice and penguins.

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

Head of Srcurity in bar

Stop

Antsy as hell

Stop

Please distract

Stop

fallen-april.livejournal.com

[[OOM: April visits the loft, and gets things sort of emotionally finalized with Roger.

And then she and Mimi make Roger horny by being huggy and kissy (purely platonically)]]

aveb-feline.livejournal.com

There is a NYU course catalog in a booth near the bar.

It's attached to a Hispanic dancer, who's slouched in the booth flipping through it.

Not too far away is an acceptance letter.

She wanted to do it by herself, and lo and behold, she did.

rt-5478.livejournal.com

Artie is Investigating. He's scurrying around the bar in gerbil form, sniffing at corners and chair legs, climbing up to cross tabletops, occasionally stopping dead in his tracks for no apparent reason.

Gerbils have much poorer vision than humans, but their senses of smell and hearing are considerably more acute. Artie relied on those two senses for most of his life, up until Helen unwittingly gave him the ability to turn human. Now, he's using those senses to get a feel for the bar. The different qualities of the patrons' footsteps, the odors of various kinds of food and drink, the high-pitched squeaks of the waitrats bickering--even the smell of the varnish on the hardwood floor tells a story.

Artie already understands Milliways on a human level. Now he wants to understand it on his level.

Please try not to step on him.

slayer_fray

Mel is still sneaking about hiding her injuries. Until she gets caught by an ex-turtle.

Rated HA! for DVD-Rewinding.

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

Up in the infirmary, a very sore Garion gets the first round of visitors.

Silk, Garion's good friend from home, comes in first to provide the vital service of informing Garion on how stupid his actions were before the two of them get down to the business of why he decided to wander into Karanda without his magic flaming sword. Ray stops by next, where he finds out the fate of the PKE meter he lent to Garion (it's in two different, very dead demons) and the two discuss the fact that half-demon half-human children are Creepy and Wrong ala Wilbur Whately. Charlie comes by as well, offering help with babysitting, general well-wishing, and grapes. He's followed by a strange little introduction to Miniver Cheevy (on going). A little while later, Suzi Darley comes in to check on her patient, bring him a blanket, and inform him of just how much fun it is to ride his god. Garion is very thankful for the blanket.

Especially as his wife calls later in the afternoon, wondering where he is. Cue some very creative truth-telling, some slipping up, and a very harried Rivan Queen, children and all, returning to Milliways.

After this, Obi-Wan Kenobi comes by and learns about wolves, amongst other things.

Current Mood: sick

oh-frak-me.livejournal.com

*Kara is slouched in a chair near the bar, in civvies, waiting for Lee to bring over their dinners. She yawns a little and cracks her neck. She has plans. Lee doesn't know about them yet, but she has plans...*

(ooc: Two pups, two muns, two, two, two times the fun!...Or something...)

notagod-apollo.livejournal.com

((OOM: At some point in the recent past, Starbuck and Apollo have an interesting day. Warnings for extreme angst, some swearing, mentions of suicide, arguments, borderline food porn, and well, sex and lack of brevity.))

lvpd_sidle

One year ago, on this date, Sara was a crumpled sobbing mess on the lake shore, clutching a red spandex costume to her chest.

This year, she's not doing anything so dramatic.

A candle is lit and she stares out at the continuing destruction, almost entranced.

gondolin-noble.livejournal.com

The door opens to screaming.

Terrified screaming, furious screaming, victorious screaming, all intermingled and chaotic. The air beyond the door is black with smoke, cloying and choking all life.

From this realm of destruction leaps a tall lithe figure, his raiment still gleaming gold despite the blood - both his and others. His sword is black from hilt to tip, as is his shield. His hair, long and golden, is tied into the complicated braids of his house, done earlier that evening, a time that seems an age ago now.

He whirls, turning to face this new and unexpected threat, bright blue eyes narrowed in agonized fury, teeth bared in a snarl.

md_donighal

There's a nova at the bar. He's singing again.

It's not actually that he's a bad singer, qua bad. It's more that he's a very enthusiastic singer, one who sings like he doesn't much care who is or isn't listening.

"o/` I told Carter Hall he shouldn't drink and fly,
Told Al Pratt he chugged too much for one small guy,
I got blind with Chuck McNider,
He blacked out, I just got tighter
And drank rings round Alan Scott on rock'n'rye. o/`"

Eminently botherable, though he may well bother you first.

Current Mood: boisterous
Current Music: Young Man Mulligan

renegade-enzo.livejournal.com

Matrix has been getting more and more comfortable with Milliways, and the thought of Users being normal people bothered him less (although he wasn't completely okay with it yet, but still, better than nothing).

He wasn't in the mood to drink right now, but he didn't feel like heading back home just yet. He sat at the bar, watching patrons go about their business.

Perhaps Bar sensed his boredom, because as he sat there, a red yo-yo appeared on the bar top.

Matrix looked at it for a moment before shrugging. He started to play with it idly.

Go on and disturb him. Not like he has much better to do today.

evryinchbut1.livejournal.com

Your server is: Valerie

Valerie's making her rounds, tray in hand. Feel free to flag her down.

verymodelof.livejournal.com

Danny's sitting by the window, holding up his phone and moving it slowly from side to side, trying to see if he can get a signal. He's having no luck, of course - being outside of the space-time continuum causes problems with cellphones. That doesn't stop him from trying.

"Come on," he murmurs softly, presumably to the phone. "Please?"

always-a-liar.livejournal.com

Thirty-Seventh: Maturity

Thirty-Eighth: An Escape

Thirty-Ninth: What You Will

[OOC: Warnings for creepiness, language, and William Shakespeare.]

Current Location: Tackleford, England

guppy_sandhu

The little boy coming into the bar has been running, hard, and is out of breath. And not just because he sneaked out of the back garden having told his parents he was practicing tennis.

Gurpreet is a kid on a mission. Which is why he snuck out and headed back to the pub on The Mists in search of someone he promised a cinema trip. And bumped into a couple of people on the way.

There is mud on his T-shirt, and one of the sleeves has been stretched. Aware that he may still be being chased, he heads over to a booth and ducks down behind it, trying to persuade his shirt to regain its original shape.

mnt_mike

Behind Bar stands a very very happy ex-turtle. Life, and humanity, have been good to him lately.
How good?
The smile says it all. The smile also warns that what it says is Rated R, and that those under 17 will not be answered with out parental supervision.

"Helloooooooo Milliways. The specials? We don't need no stinkin' specials. Why? Because you're all the special we'll ever need.

Bar's open."

lady_moon

Moon is in the bar, on a table.

Seated on the table, not dancing on it or other such nonsense.

She just likes the table more than she likes the chairs. In her opinion, chairs were created in order force the masses to be shorter.

Moon felt she was short enough.

So, she's sitting cross-legged on a table, Mons and Mare are under it, and she has five wine glasses in a semi-circle in front of her. All of them contain different colour liquids.

She's doing something very arcane and mystical with them.

Just don't ask her what, cause she can't remember.

taishar_malkier

It would be inaccurate to say that Lan and Nynaeve are more vigilant than usual, when they enter from the House of Arch painting. They're never in the bar, in general and particularly these days, without keeping wary and watchful eyes on everything.

But, given recent events, there's something of an extra edge.

They pause by the bar to pick up tea and mulled cider, and for Nynaeve to drop off a note informing Moiraine, in no uncertain terms and emphatic handwriting, to stop by their rooms in the House of Arch when next she visits the bar. Then they move to separate tables, close enough to keep an eye on each other, and Nynaeve spreads out her greenhouse plans while Lan pulls out his pipe.

[OOC: Go ahead and tag Lan! But please ping setsthingsright before tagging Nynaeve, as the mun is multitasking. Thanks!]

brotherspider

The door opens, rather nonchalantly. It was just like any door, really, except that this one was definitely someone's closet. Didn't matter, though, since the man stepping through it was expecting a reasonable amount of space to be inside anyway. Not as in closet-space, but entire-room-and/or-existence-kind-of-space. In other words, this closet door was being used as a way to get into his room, which was inside of his brother's flat.

At this point, you might be wondering what an entire room is doing in the closet-space of somebody's flat, but it's very easily explained. The man is a smartly-dressed individual with a look about him that exudes so much confidence, it's overflowing. EVERYTHING is in this guy's favor, the one-man show. In other words, his name is Spider Nancy, and he is the son of a god.

So now, he's stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, thinking about the day he had at the Grahame Coats Agency in the place of his brother. He does not immediately notice his surroundings, since taking the place of Fat Charlie Nancy for a day has allowed him to enjoy one thing which is very precious to the afore-mentioned sibling: His fiance'. Without even realizing that he's not in his room, Spider walks right up to the bar and orders.

"I'll have three measures of Gordon's; one of vodka; half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it over ice, and add a thin slice of lemon peel."

His natural charismatic abilities have him seek out a drink before even knowing why there is a bar here, or what anybody has done with his room. It is a moment later when he realizes that he's in a bar, not a room of his own devising. Did he redecorate? Easily done, but he'd remember something like that. Turning back to the bar again...

"'Scuse me, but I seem to have misplaced...everything."

pwyll_twiceborn

[OOM: The morning after this, there is a confrontation over a missing child.

A missing and dangerous child.]

gonna_live

Kaylee has a Secret Project.

She's finetuning it, with a convenient bag to hide the object itself in should the intended recipient make an appearance.

She's also wearing earphones. Public Enemy isn't still around in five hundred years, but The Yakuzas of Supremity most certainly are.

She also has a glass of wine.