milliways_bar | Mar. 2nd, 2007

Mar. 2nd, 2007

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

Nathan was in the bar again. Thinking of some things. Especially the fact of running into Pete in here again. And the difference in time was just....weird. He just wished his warnings to him had worked, but his brother could be so damn stubborn. Especially when he got fired up about something.

Like those dreams of his. And him back home, going on about some damn cheerleader.
He distracted himself with some newspaper articles. And at least he had that trip to London to look forward to too.

(ooc:

Mun has gone to bed. But be happy to slowtime threads.

Up and around here and there today.)

night-hibiscus.livejournal.com

[OOC: OOM:

Yuna and Lucy, Djose Temple.

And:

Another Morning After

Millitimed to last weekend.]

aint-no-kid.livejournal.com

At a table by the observation window, a young Twi'lek of the blue skinned variety sits with her back to the window and her knee-booted feet up on the table. She frowns at the holofeed on her datapad while she cursors through the reports on bounties. "Here," she says, pointing to one on the screen. "Think I can take this one?"

This question is posed to the bearded man dressed in Jedi robes that sits next to her, nursing a glass of blue milk and munching on toasted dew cake slathered with green Bantha butter. He leans over to look at the one she points to, raising an eyebrow. He whistles under his breath, "Two bounties, totaling 200,000 credits? Must've pissed off the wrong people."

"But can I take her, you think?"

"You do realize that every experienced bounty hunter in the galaxy is going to be looking for her?"

"Experienced, huh? What's that supposed to mean? You don't think I can handle it?"

"I think you should start with the one of the smaller ones. You're new to bounty hunting."

She snorts in disgust at the one he points to on the screen. "100 credits? Revan, what the kriff am I supposed to do with 100 credits? That's nothing these days. That shouldn't even be posted on this feed."

"I don't know, Mission, you can start by paying me back a little for my tab here."

"Oh. You saw. I guess all those equipment parts I bought got a little expensive, huh?"

Revan snorts. "A little? What the kriff are you doing? Building a ship?"

"No, a droid, but...hey, a ship sounds like a good idea. Maybe a little swoop racer."

Revan's forehead hits the table as Mission, smirking, goes back to looking over the list of bounties. Both are botherable, separate or together.

[OOC: Mun will be off and on all day, so replies may be slow.]

slayer_fray

Mel's in a good mood as she climbs in the front door today. She's just back from a successful grab and carrying a big shiny bracelet-shaped currency on one wrist to show for it.

She slides that metal ring off and tosses it easily to the bar, where it disappears.

Then the Slayer stretches and drops into a chair in the middle of the room, boots crossed on the table

Security member on duty.

works-in-space.livejournal.com

He overslept. He's exhausted. His fingers are a bit shaky. And he needed his pain-blocker set higher to keep the headache at bay. He grumbled at the Vulcan technician for taking too long to reset his log recorder, and cursed the Vulcan sun for being so bright. He even got a smirk from McCoy, who at least didn't say "I told you so".

Jim was therefore quite happy to be away from his crew for a while. And even happier to get outside into the cold air, where his head cleared a bit. He walked around, taking note of the trampled snows and even of a slowly fading snowman with a sign warning of the impending doom of summer.

He's not in great spirits, but he wouldn't mind company. Assuming company doesn't mention how tired he looks or offer him a cup of anything.

[ooc: usual slowtime advisory]

feminine-menace.livejournal.com

YT's ankle feels a lot better today, but the bandage can't come off until tomorrow, so she's still on crutches when she walks and is mostly confined to a couch by the fire, where there's an ottoman she can use to fulfill the 'E' in RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) treatment for sprains. But the ankle's only part of the problem - the one-two punch of encountering Li and then River yesterday has still got her riled up. Her mind's pacing like a tiger in its cage, and she might feel better if she could do the same, but she can't.

One of the waitrats brought her a big jigsaw puzzle with a puzzleboard to do it on. She didn't ask for one, so she figures it's a sort of get-well gift from someone, although that someone remains anonymous. She's not normally into jigsaw puzzles, especially 1,500 piece behemoths like this one - which depicts Van Gogh's Starry Night - but it helps keep her hands and her brain occupied, and she's gotten all the edges done by now.

But, if it's a choice between a puzzle and a sympathetic ear, she'll take the ear.

Go ahead and bother.

Current Mood: depressed
Current Location: Couch by the fireplace

trustydriver.livejournal.com

The Red Panda would pitch a fit if he knew Kit was coming to Milliways in uniform. We don't get our secret identies mixed up in superhero business, he always says. And we absolutely don't do the reverse.

The Red Panda's not here, though. And if he were, Kit would tell him to stick his rules and principles where the sun don't shine. She just spent four hours chasing down a bank-robbing supervillain with a flying carpet, and she needs some time to unwind without her partner grilling her on the details.

Thus, a very tired-looking Flying Squirrel enters and drags herself over to Bar. "Gimmie some coffee an' a short stack, wouldja, Sugar? It's been a long night."

dr_temperance

“…..indicates that the victim was female, eighteen to twenty years of age, Caucasian, approximately five feet, two inches in height. There is a healed fracture of the tibia, professionally set; a childhood break, likely occurring when the victim was eight to ten years old. Bone density suggests that the victim suffered from mild malnourishment during the last two to three years of her life. Cause of death..…”

The small tape recorder plays Brennan’s cursory exam notes back to her at low volume while she types them up on her laptop. She could have someone do this for her, but she’s found that it’s sometimes helpful to type them out herself, especially when there’s so much information to be processed.

It’s time consuming, of course. But Milliways makes that much less of a problem.

Botherable.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

[OOM: Last night, Wells had a few words with the puppies, and then a few words with Spoon. It made, perhaps, a difference.

This morning also made a difference. Not, unfortunately, the one Wells wanted.]

Wells steps into the Bar looking a bit like a man whose doctor's just told him "sir, no offense, but you fucked yourself up". It is probably safe to say he's had better mornings than this. (And worse, if we are being perfectly honest.)

He'll just get himself some tea and settle down by the Window for a bit before going outside. The heavy bag's not going anywhere, and he needs to think a few things over first.

http://users.livejournal.com/_estsanatlehi_/

It was that time of year again. Yep. THAT time.

There was a young native american woman sitting near the fire with a basket.

The basket was covered with a blanket and making occasional peepy noises, little squeaks, cheeps and feather-rustlings.

Go on and ask her what's in it. You know you want to.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Sometimes, Ace has to run, or be driven to distraction by every little thing that goes by. It's par for the course.

Sometimes, she has to run farther than usual, and that's just how it goes.

Sometimes, Ace wants a new damn course.

Like today.

The back door opens, and a still-tired Doberman slinks through, followed by a rather aggravated-looking pyro with a rucksack and one hand wrapped in a towel. The pair go over to the Bar, where Ace gets a toy for Magic (a terry-cloth bear stuffed with kibble) and a small black kit, along with a mug of cocoa. Magic carries her toy, and Ace carries her own supplies over to one of the more brightly-lit booths.

After a few minutes, if one were to listen in, one would get a primer on extraterrestrial curse words, and how they are best strung together.

It's been a long day.

killitwithfire

So, Axel's been bored. Slouching on the couch by the fire is all well and good - and not a bad 'hiding place' so far - but it's boring. So he's up and about and moving around today. Hood still up, of course, but, hey.

After wandering aimlessly for a few minutes, he goes and gets himself a mug of hot chocolate from the bar, and then heads for the Window. It's something different to look at, anyway.

((ooc: ~~the mun will be leaving for work before to long, but felt like posting while she still had the inspiration. Tags are welcome, but after 3pm PST, please expect a wait for replies.~~ ...Guess who go told she wasn't needed at work today? *eyeroll*))

bring_a_sponge

(ooc: Millitimed (and plot-locked) from a few days ago)

There's a Man in Black growling at his own plan as he skims through several images on the holographic display he's set up on the table at his booth.

There's something missing from his strategy. Something he's overlooking. But what could it be?

gorgonfondness

Mia is sitting in the bar, browsing through the Guide. Some way or another, she's gotten to the entry about the Babelfish. Judging by the look on her face, she thinks the Babelfish is particularly adorable. Edgeworth is sniffing the big, friendly letters on the cover.

Near her is a cherry chocolate milkshake.

Hopefully, no waitrats will come around and frighten Edgeworth into going milkshake diving.

Botherable.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

Ginny walks in from her world where it was storming. She was just glad to be in the dry. Her mum had insisted on degnoming the garden this morning despite of the rain.

She just shakes her head and runs her hand though her hair walking to the bar do get a cup of tea. She reaches up to fiddle with a locket she was wearing

Current Mood: creative

snowy_river_man

[OOM: On Harrison's cattle station, a challenge is boldly issued and rashly met.]

priestoftravel.livejournal.com

Nicholas D. Wolfwood is sitting at a booth. On the table there's a sign which reads:

CONFESS YOUR SINS
Free salvation with every atonement!

Also on the table is an ashtray, a portable confessional (see icon) a pack of cigarettes and a mug of scotch. Behind all these is a dark haired, tanned priest who has his legs stretched out before him, lounging comfortably.
No, he doesn't take his job very seriously, but any priest which does is a stiff and he doesn't really approve of their methods.

Come confess, Milliways, the ~~travelling~~ priest is on the job.

jack_inthegreen

Here's a Jack.

It's the red-haired one who likes apples. He's folded up on a sofa, drawing his babies (who are home tonight with their nanny. Even the divine need a few minutes to themselves sometimes.)

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

...now complete with actual bartender.

Garion's behind the bar, now leaning on a cane as opposed to needing a crutch. His leg is pretty much healed up, but he's trying not to strain it too much since Ce'Nedra had made it clear he'd be heading this quest from his infirmary bed if she or one of the doctors could find anything the least bit wrong with him when it came time for action. As such, the letters on the board are neater than usual; that's what happens when you use sorcery.
Drink Specials
Cough Medicine
Bitter Pill
Kill Me Now
"What'll you have?"

mandalorianheir.livejournal.com

Fett is in the Bar. He is getting desperate for business, truth be told, since he seems to lack notoriety. So, in the tradition of absurd scenes in the Bar, there is actually a sign out at his table.

Professional troubleshooter, rates negotiable.

Yes, business has been that slow.

dats-dildoes.livejournal.com

There was a grumble, a yawn and a thump from somewhere over by the couch, followed by a not-entirely-awake, "Gots to takes a piss." And a blonde shuffling off towards the bathroom.

At least he was going in the right direction.

Of course, to land on the floor as he'd done he'd had to roll over the other guitarist sprawled out on the couch. The pair of them had been there since the night before and sleep hadn't helped as much as Skwisgaar had been hoping.

He shuffled back not long after, sprawling himself onto the couch once more, pushing Toki's legs out of the way, "How dids we falls asleeps here?"

(two pups, two muns, tag one or the other, expect both. Muns are insane, pups are recovering, feel free to ask about it, they'll be happy to ~~gripe~~ tell you all about it)

doctor-bj.livejournal.com

There's a jingle of keys on the far side of the front door, and then a tired-looking veterinary student, still in her school overalls, walks through the door.

She's wearing a backpack, heavy with reference books, photocopied journals, dirty clothes from a two-day haul through the wild, and medical supplies. Her stethoscope, marked as hers by a bright gold dogtag, is still around her neck. One hand is holding the strap of a neatly-bundled sleeping bag, and in the other she holds her keys, the house key still out.

This is not where she is supposed to be. She drops her keys, causing a noisy jangle.

"Well. I guess I wasn't hallucinating."

dreamer_fray

At some point, it's night outside.

It must be, because Harth makes his way out to the greenhouse and doesn't spontaneously combust, but continues inside, carrying a watering can vaguely surreptitiously.

What.

Ain't never seen a member o'the dead undead poppin' out t'water his plants before?

agnes_nitt

Friday night again, and Agnes is on the job.

Her witch's hat is once again firmly on her head. She hasn't actually attempted any sort of magic -- not sure if she's quite well enough yet -- but she might just feel up to trying. And whether she can or can't, that makes her a witch again.

But that doesn't mean she's not a server, too. Witch is simply who she is. So, she's downstairs in her apron, leaning against the bar, looking around for anyone who might need service.

howdy-howdy.livejournal.com

Dude has a confession to make.

He has developed a taste for something only Bar can provide.

He slinks in the front door, cowboy boots shuffling, and shoots a glance back over his shoulder to see if Kathleen's following.

Nope.

The farmer approaches Bar.

"The usual, darlin'. The usual," he mutters.

A very large, very green drink appears. It's got two different kinds of alcohol, crushed ice, and the juice of a fruit that grows once every eleven years on the second moon of a planet in the (former) Hinerian Empire.

Dude finds it yummy.

bannion_sight

[OOM: Kim can't stop thinking about it.]

Sharra had found her earlier on the castle's turret, and listened while Kim, her eyes red from crying, had poured everything out like a flood. Oh, Jen. For the children and for love.

Eventually they had gone back inside, but three hours later they--and the others-- are back outside in the icy cold, looking northward.

The lios alfar had unveiled Daniloth for the first time in a thousand years, offering themselves and their home up as bait, trying to draw Maugrim down out of his fortress. She stands there with the others, watching the pearlescent shining of the Land of Light, so bright against the darkness and the night sky, and tries not to think.

It's hard, though, as there's an odd thin sound-- almost like static-- coming from the east and tugging at her thoughts. Kim glances quickly at the Baelrath, and sees with relief that it is dark on her hand.

Distracted, she murmurs an excuse to Aileron and moves away, into the shadow of an archway--

--only to find that the arch has become a doorway, instead. Kim blinks, and instantly tests the door, which remains unlocked.

She visibly considers it for a moment, and then her shoulders slump. Kim lets the door shut and turns away, heading for the bar, and for the strongest cup of coffee she can find.

were-needed.livejournal.com

He has been told to relax, to make the most of things, to accept that he can't get back home.

But John Steed is not one to sit quietly and wait for someone else to bust him out.

He's currently out back, trying to work out if there's something he can climb up to get a better view. Maybe there's a way out that he just hasn't been able to spot yet.

Having checked out the side of the building, he decides to try a tree first. Wouldn't do to accidentally break something on the property by climbing up it after all, not unless it was necessary. Still wearing a suit and tie, he grasps a branch and begins to climb up.

After a moment's hesitation, he hooks his umbrella on a branch, because it's just getting in the way.

un_fallen

Raguel looks tired, as usual, when he comes in. Also rather hunted. He closes the door quickly behind him, looks around with more than his usual care, and takes a stool near the bar with a relieved sigh. Drink, cigarette, slouch. Not necessarily in that order.

guppy_sandhu

The doctor is in

He's currently having a go at the 'Guess the foreign body in the X-ray' competition in the back of a magazine.

Anyone want a guess?

mendanddefend_archive

[Millitimed to Thursday morning: Bob and Dot share a quiet morning after an eventful night.]

second_sighted

The door opens, and a little girl stumbles in, fisted hands rubbing at her eyes. She's tired and she has to pee. Unfortunately there is a loud and noisy room in place of her usual quiet bathroom.

Maybe she's still dreaming.

"Benny?"

She looks back over her shoulder.

"Mommy? Daddy?"

She doesn't sound scared, at least not yet. But then again, there haven't been any clowns laughing at her, either.

Jordan Black has very vivid nightmares.

gifted_profiler

He'd woken Catherine when he set his bag down at the foot of their bed, and she'd listened quietly while he told her what had happened. "I still have faith, Frank -- even in a world where men like that exist."

Frank takes Catherine's hand in his. "So do I." A beat. "This man Calloway-- he had a wife, and a six-year old daughter. Joanie and Sara. They died in a house fire. When he lost them, he lost his faith-- he lost everything." His grip tightens on her hand for a moment, and they're quiet for a few seconds before he lets go and stands. "I'm going to check on Jordan."

It's not that far down the hall to her room. He glances in without turning on the light, not wanting to wake her-- but a quick flash of alarm goes through him when he sees that his daughter's bed is empty.

"Jordan."

He whirls, and it's Benny's whining at the bathroom door that gets his attention. Frank hurries to it and knocks once, sharply.

"Jordan? Are you okay?" There's no answer, and Frank turns the knob. Unlocked. "Jordan, I'm coming in--"

The door opens, into Milliways, and Frank looks as though he's been hit-- and then a look of something very close to panic comes over his face as he sees his daughter, halfway across the room.

"Jordan!"

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

[OOM: Back at the farm, the day brought some surprises for Spoon after all.]

Harry Wells left the Bar earlier, largely unnoticed. Annie slips in in his place, heading for the Bar and then for the back door, where she tacks up a sign:

Tonight is the first night of the full moon. Several of the Bar's patrons are werewolves, and will be abroad in the forest tonight. Please be careful if you go outside, and consider staying indoors until sunrise instead for your own sake.

Thank you.

Then she heads for the Bar for her evening tea and a spot to sit.

laceandarsenic.livejournal.com

This afternoon, Gert had a shower and left Old Lace in the room that she's taken. During the ten minutes that Gert was in the bathroom, the dinosaur managed to break the lock on the door and has made her way down into the bar where she is now sniffing around the wait-rats and thinking to herself

MMMMMMM... SNACK TIME!

As for Gert, shes currently searching the corridors upstairs looking for the dinosaur and hoping to find her before O.L. can get herself into too much trouble.