milliways_bar | Mar. 3rd, 2007

Mar. 3rd, 2007

callitavesper.livejournal.com

[ Upstairs, in flat 007: James informs Sarah that M is a woman, which leads to a discussion of his job. ]

mop-jockey.livejournal.com

Enter Lenny Inchpot, jeans, sweatshirt with "Milliways Waitstaff" emblazoned on the front.

He grabs a piece of toast from Bar and bites it while he writes up on the Specials Board.

Lenny Inchpot, Wait Staff. You got orders, I got food.

Yes, he realizes how horribly lame that sounds.

And guess what. He doesn't care. So Neener.

Anyway, after he finishes his toast with jelly and cup of cocoa, he takes to his usual pattern of wandering around aiding those that look like they need assistance.

taishar_malkier

At some point this morning, Lan deposits a note for Zuko's friends at the Bar. It's addressed to Friends of Li; when he places it on the bar, the note disappears, and fades back into place a moment later. Friends of Zuko, it reads now.

Lan's eyebrows rise fractionally.

Interesting.

The note informs any of Zuko's friends that he has been taken to the House of Arch for healing, and likely to remain there for several days. If they have questions or would like to visit him, they should contact Nynaeve ti al'Meara Mandragoran or Lan Mandragoran by owl or in person.

Moiraine gets a separate note, asking her to come by the room again when she's in the bar. It's not quite so urgent as the last such note, but nonetheless the fact that there's news to impart is strongly implied.

tibetanmethod

[Out of Milliways, and into Twin Peaks:

The Bookhouse, somewhere, somewhen. An interlude.]

futures_of_ash

Rachel was in a mood it seemed. Not quite angry or upset, but not quite happy...just kind of there. She hadn't slept, and it showed, as she was still wearing the faded wife beater and more-hole-than-jeans that was her pj's. Luckily, her shift didn't start until late, which would give her time to battle through the careless feeling.

So, she sat upside down on a rafter. It put her on reverse eye level with just about any decently tall person walking by in case they had a reason to talk. Otherwise, she was slowly building a tower of straws, sugar packets, and pepper shakers down to the table below.

[Open to all, slow eventually!]

wingless-clan.livejournal.com

So,a detective came strolling in with a heavy coat over her shoulder...

Or Rather, Elisa stepped through the door with her head hanging, only taking a moment to steady herself as she looked around "Well...actually good timing for once" she noted with a sigh.

She trudged over to the Bar and laid the heavy coat on top of it "Umm...Bar. Yeah. Give this to Detective Monk?" she did her best not to act surprised when the piece of clothing disappeared.

That done, she stumbled over to a booth and tried not to fall asleep. She really should have ordered coffee.

[...and mun is off for the morning. Slows welcome]

hysteriaprone.livejournal.com

[OOM: In the silence of the night, how we shiver with affright...

... could that have been a precognitive dream?

Warnings for the usual.]

truequest.livejournal.com

A delicate 20 year old princess pads downstairs quietly. She pauses at the bar.

A sketch pad and watercolors appear along with a cup of tea. Zelda smiles faintly and scoops up the paint supplies and tea.

She wanders about until finally settling on the couch by the fire.

A familiar face begins to appear after a while. She sighs...

Lonely princess onna couch still waiting to be rescued.

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

Having read the postcard several times over, he's now studying the picture on front with intense delight, where he's curled up in an armchair.

He wishes he could do that.

twistedhealer.livejournal.com

She is watching the universe end. She spends most of her time doing so, and it pleases her. Even the window in her room shows the death of all things, which is why she feels no need to venture into the rest of the bar most days.

She is watching the universe end, this woman who calls herself Anath Dorje, coffee in hand and a pleased smile on her lips.

flame-and-void.livejournal.com

Still bearing a peace-knotted sword at his hip, Rand sits down at the bar and orders a glass of mulled wine. Awkardly, he pulls two small maps out of a case and sets them on the bartop, using the glass to hold down one corner while his stump of a hand holds down the other. Finally, he pulls out a small journal and opens it, followed by ink and a quill.

Using said quill, he makes a few marks on the map, then writes in the journal, pausing occasionally to drink from the glass.

invisanthrope.livejournal.com

Claude was a company man. All about the paper, yes indeed. Paper was his life.

That being said, working at the "paper company" he worked at was certainly an Experience, one that led a man to believe he'd seen a bit of everything and that nothing could surprise him.

He was wrong.

Claude was visible as he walked through the door, into what he believed was his office, and stopped, right in the bar doorway, looking into the strange room that wasn't supposed to be there.

He saw the odd and amazing array of different people, he saw the window, he saw the lovely, swirling vortex of a decaying, exploding universe outside...

"Well isn't this perfectly awe-inspiring and fascinating," he said in a distinct Northern accent, eyes raised to the ceiling. "I suppose I should get nice and comfy in my sudden psychosis and have a look around."

...and because he was a smart man, he just turned right back around, walked out, and slammed the door shut.

No hallucinations for him, thanks! Especially since Primatech wouldn't exactly take well to one of their employees going insane, and fire him. (Meaning that they'd probably take him somewhere and fire at him).

However, the bar had designs of its own, so a few seconds later, the door opened again. It had been a few days for him, and he'd been ducking into one of the bathrooms. Upon finding that the door led to a strange place that wasn't supposed to be there, he said, "Nice try," to the ceiling with a grin, turned right on his heel and walked out again.

The last time the door opened, only seconds later, it had been a solid week for him, and had been a rather busy day. He'd been introduced to a new partner in the company, one Mr. Bennet, two potential new cases had cropped up, there was a problem with one that they'd tagged and let go, and he was reading over a folder of files (that really oughtn't ever leave the company) and therefore hadn't been paying attention to where he was going.

Claude walked through and the bar door slammed behind him. Immediately, he looked up, turned right on his heel again, and went back for the door.

Which wouldn't open.

After a minute of fruitless struggle, made more difficult by the file folder he had tucked under his armpit, he kicked it viciously, and when it wouldn't budge, he directed his gaze upwards again, quickly and nervously tucking that very secret file folder in the inner pocket of his coat.

Maybe he was addressing God, but it was likely he was simply addressing his own brain and/or sanity: "Look, I appreciate the not-so-subtle recommendation that I take a vacation, but there's got to be some way to do that other than vivid hallucinations. Have me fall asleep at my desk, collapse at a meeting--complete psychosis is a little much, you understand."

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Once again, Ace has picked up her little project of cleaning and rewiring an old sonic blaster she found while exploring one day. It's badly scored and has been exposed to all sorts of weather, but she thinks she can fix it.

What she plans to do with it once she's done is anyone's guess. It's not like she can return it, unless she likes getting paid in bananas.

lvpd_sidle

Sara is working busily with small cards and envelopes.

Seems someone has realized that invitations need to be sent out.

She would gladly welcome a distraction. Or help.

old-lizard.livejournal.com

Chinthliss had known the moon was full tonight, without warnings, though the courtesy was appreciated. He'd long since had the habit of keeping track of such things. When supernaturally inclined people are the rule, not the exception, in one's life, complacency is more dangerous than any shapechanger or werewolf.

However, the mage decided to explore the woods and lake area. He kept an eye out for anyone or anything else moving nearby, with mage-sight augmenting normal vision. The darkness was no hindrance, he found.

Snow and ice cracked under his boots as he turned toward the mountains he'd glimpsed. No particular destination in mind, he only wanted to get the feel and sights of the place. If anyone approached, well, they'd see what happened then.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Draco was able to get something from his homeworld, and Owled to him. A note from his mum. And a beautiful wizard chess set.

He was currently sitting at a table off the side, and ordered commands to the animated pieces moving about the board.

abar-starclog.livejournal.com

Carl's in the bar, with the laptop.
He's taken a while to figure out what it can do on its own, as best he can without a proper Internet connection. So now he's trying a simple hack to get an idea of how much he can do in turn.
...Granted, the technology's an eternity ahead of him in computer terms, so the 'simple' hack is taking a while longer than he'd expected. It's not a surprise, but it is mildly frustrating.

(OOC: Will have to call slowtime around 9:30 EST for great heading to work. Any loose threads will be picked up.)

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

Nathan saw the door today, and he headed home shortly after that. Able to take of things. But that was before he headed down to Texas in person.

And everything went to hell.

Sometime later, after they got his brother breathing again, and he was able to make arrangements to transfer him to Mount Sinai in New York for treatment. After the stressful phone calls to his mother, to Heidi, to his staffers to put everything on hold, and anyone he could think to call. After the fruitless conversation with the doctors who claimed that they had no idea what was wrong with Peter.

After all that, and who knew how many hours later, he stepped out of the room, only to reach the bar again. He debated turning around, but then felt he could get a better drink and food here at the hospital. No time would pass. He stepped through the door, wandering in a daze toward the bar to order something.

(ooc: spoilers for "Fallout". It's canon doom time.)

gabriel_tam

He'd spent the first week just studying the idea, examining it from every angle. Over the next several weeks after that, Gabriel had written and discarded draft after draft of the proposed act, then rewritten, edited, and revised it until he now knows every word by heart.

He thinks it's ready-- and he honestly believes that it's right.

Yet at the same time, Gabriel Tam knows that he's more a man of the Core than of the Rim, no matter how much he works to understand the philosophies of the latter. He thinks he's guessed how they'll react, but he can't be certain. He himself didn't fight in the War; he was certainly never an Independent.

But he knows those who were.

Tonight, therefore, Gabriel makes time in his schedule for a visit to Milliways. He arrives carrying a slender folio of papers, and sets them on the tabletop in front of him as he takes a seat in a booth that has a good view of the room.

give-us-candy.livejournal.com

Lock Shock and Barrel, after a long night of sitting at Bar (who has been trying to get them to sleep by giving them pillows and blankets), are still watching people sign up to help them save Halloween Town.

[ooc: If you signed up here, and tagged in here, then sign-up here! My AIM has apparently decided to be a @%^&$#, so I won't be on AIM for pinging.]

priestoftravel.livejournal.com

After his first time out of the bar in a long while, and a certain Puck's informing him of a greenhouse, Nicholas D. Wolfwood had a fantastic plan.

And a present for his pal.

He set a potted poppy flower of the red variety down on the table of the booth with him, smiling warmly as he looked at it. Sure, it wasn't a geranium, but it was a red flower. A living red flower.

And he was impatiently waiting for a man in a similarly-colored coat to come through the ~~door~~ wall.

He had a present. But presents given by Wolfwood usually ended up becoming bartering tools. And this was exactly what he was planning.

So, summed up: Priest with poppy, patiently pondering the planet which he posthumously could populate with plants.

(ooc: Not exactly plotlocked, but please ping priest-mun previous to popping in?)

tosharethesky.livejournal.com

Repairs had taken priority, but she's finished as much as she can without mobile i.e.
'softperson' assistance. She can turn her attention to other projects.
Helva doesn't sleep. She's working while keeping an eye on the perimeter. So, there's an area of illumination surrounding the XH-834, though there's no one in sight or scent. Go close enough, and you may hear what sound like voices coming from within.
Busy, between one thing and another. It's a way to pass the time, and to avoid thinking about certain things.

slightlymonkish.livejournal.com

After receiving his package from Bar, he wrote a quick note to Elisa:

Elisa,

Thanks for the jacket. It's perfect. I'll buy you coffee or something sometime soon.

- Monk

Now, for the first time, he's outside. He's pacing the shore of the lake with hands stuffed in his new jacket, watching his breath as it fogs into the air around him.

He's spent the past few days glued to the newspapers Bar had given him, obsessing over every detail contained within, looking for a loophole, a clue, something that would let him know what, exactly, happened --

-- as he glances up at the moon, a shadow is creeping across it.

He shivers.

As long as I'm here, he thinks, over and over and over again, she's safe...

She's safe.

hero_farmboy

Clark is still here. This is mainly because he's not leaving without Chloe. Actually, he's not sure he can leave without Chloe, but even if he could, he wouldn't.

Since he's been here, he's taken the time to get a little more familiar with the place, to the point that he likely won't get lost inside anymore. He's got his room, knows where Chloe's is and even thinks he's comfortable with food and drink just appearing at the bar. That one took a while.

Tonight, he's decided it's time to get more comfortable with another feature of Milliways - the observation window. Large cup of coffee in hand, Clark has situated himself in an armchair near enough that he has a good view, but can also look away when he needs to. This one's going to take a while, too.

callitavesper.livejournal.com

That cold is just about gone. James still has a minor case of the sniffles, but the coughing fit's been exchanged for the occasional clearing of the throat. A marvel what rest and a proper diet can do. He's continuing the proper diet with more tea and more soup, anticipating that the murky feeling of the cold will have vanished by tomorrow. Until then, he'll just have to enjoy another night in an armchair by the fireplace.

necessary_child

(OOC: Not plot-locked, exactly, but the mun is very busy and may request no new threads if she gets overwhelmed. Sorry! Much as I hate to admit it, A-Level coursework comes before Milliways. *le sigh*)

There is a Lucifer in the bar (although he's more likely to call himself Sam). He's stretched out on a sofa in a boneless, feline-like sort of way, absently nibbling After Eights. He looks thoroughly lazy and rather pleased with life.

He's also perfectly botherable.

(OOC: And sorry, but my brain is shutting down so no new threads, please! Unless your pup has an urgent need to talk to the devil, in which case please ping me at herworldsonfire first.)

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

[OOM: Days go by as Spoon starts to settle back into himself. And eventually, Spoon has something to say]

The door opens on Yorkshire briefly before closing, then opening again a few minutes later to admit Harry Wells. He's in a remarkably good mood (these days for him nearly any good mood is remarkable), and he's got a thick brown envelope under one arm. It's just possible that it might be needed at some point, he figures.

In the meantime, he checks to make sure Annie's sign is still on the back door. Then it's time for a pint and a seat by the fire.

young_tmriddle

Tom escorts Ingress into Milliways this evening for the first time in a while. They are dressed in wizarding garments - suit robes for Tom and purple dress robes for Ingress.

Why, you ask? Why not! They've been to Diagon Alley for dinner and now it's time for ice cream.

For Ingress anyway. Tom doesn't care for ice cream.

forge-fire.livejournal.com

There is a man.

Well, not a man. He looks like a man, but he's not quite a man.

He has a screwdriver.

No, it's not sonic. It doesn't have to be.

He also has what looks like a radio taken a part in front of him, a bowl of olives, and a cup of near-soupy coffee.

Have at.

undignified

Wes is by the fireplace with a bag of his toy ships and action figures, setting up a scenario that might be a space battle, except that along with the X-wings and A-wings and TIE fighters, there are landspeeders, speeder bikes, one Hot Wheels car, one plastic Ewok, two anonymous Rebel soldiers and a tiny little holographic figure of a Jedi that might be Luke, if you squint.

Today's a day for childish toys.

Also, Oreo cookies.

He won't mind people helping themselves to either.

wolflord_andain

Galadan has been away for some small space, going about his own business elsewhere. But with his wolves moving as he wills, and with the rest of his plans proceeding apace, he can certainly spare the time to visit Milliways, and see what he may learn here.

There are always agendas that need furthering, and Galadan has had a very long time learning how best to manage such demands.

Which explains why he is settled at a table, a glass of red wine before him, watching the passerby, searching out familiar or interesting faces.

When gathering information it is often best not to be too picky, and Galadan is possessed of a fierce need to know.

It serves him well.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

[[OOM: Molly and Cain arrive at a campsite, and have a rest and a meal before things really start to happen. Warnings for some nudity and schmoop.]]

morelikeasponge.livejournal.com

[OOC: Spoilers for 1.1, "Genesis," in the first link.]

When Peter stepped through the door, the first thing he saw was Nathan.

Now he's sitting by himself at a table, staring moodily into his drink.

badinlatin

[Somewhere in the bar, some day before today, Tonks and Mal talk about getting soft. And then they drink pink things. Inara's a bad influence.]

guppy_sandhu

It's been one of those days. New consultant (Ex-army, not the warmest fluffy bunny of characters). Bizarre incident involving a patient and a fork. And, to top it off, getting a trolley shoved into him as he was about to go home and escape the mad bleeding drunken people. Why the man couldn't have chosen a more civilised way to escape law enforcement, he doesn't know. Not like anyone would have noticed him if he'd just walked out the building instead.

So he's sitting with tea, nursing a side-of-trolley-height bruise on his side and wondering whether it would be unethical to parcel tape irritating patients to something solid during treatment.

gonna_live

There are such things as Swiss Army Knives of the future!!!!

Kaylee has one, and she's messing around with something that looks a lot like a motherboard. Every so often her hair falls out of its knot, and she twists it back up without paying much attention -- the elastic in her hairband is shot.

b-a-summers.livejournal.com

Specials:

Moon Quake Shake
Blue Moon Martini
Full Moon Fever

Mun has just stood outside in the cold Irish night to watch a total Lunar eclipse, and so when Buffy walks behind the bar tonight, she scribbles up a rather meta-laced trio of Specials.

It's like a fun game!

Guess the theme!

"So, what'll it be?"

[OOC: As always, I'm here until I drop asleep. Feel free to threadhop, tag in and slowtime (as I'm liable to need to do it eventually, too~) or just tag-and-run. Tag tag tag! :D]

Current Mood: bouncy

cheevy.livejournal.com

There is a somewhat stressed-looking poet in the bar tonight. He's sitting as far away as possible from the actual Bar, trying hard not to look at it every 20 seconds.

He could use some distraction more effective than drawing multitudes of intricate spirals on pieces of paper with an enchanted quill that keeps changing colors on him.