milliways_bar | Mar. 18th, 2007

Mar. 18th, 2007

Today, it's the rafters for River.

From here, she can watch lots of things. Lots of people. (Some in particular.)

Hardly anyone looks up. People don't notice the substance of things.

"Hardly anyone," though, is not "no one." Especially around Milliways.

try_corsets

[OOM: Following an invitation issued at the lake party, Tonks, Elizabeth and Anthony have tea. And conversation, naturally.]

didntseeit.livejournal.com

Ajedrez is outside. Yes, in the cold, Scottish air, yes. Don't worry, she's mostly rugged up.

She also has a football. Black and white, like a lot of people have them.

She's sending it into the back wall of Milliways, aiming for a line of chalk. She kicks it again and again and again.

It is probably profoundly annoying to any and all in the vicinity.

Not that she really cares.

priestoftravel.livejournal.com

Down the stairs walks a priest.
Nick had been feeling rather spry lately, and was in a good mood. After the drink with Vash and a bit of soul-searching, he finally got around to sorting out his head about death.

He figured there was worse things he could be.

He dropped himself into a booth, ordered a drink, lit a smoke and set up the little sign on the table.

Confess your sins
Free salvation for every atonement!
Donations welcome

(ooc: mun's taking a nap, so if you tag, there will be a ridiculous long wait.)

wingless-clan.livejournal.com

Things had been going well. They had. She'd called her dad this week, she'd called her Uncle Honovi, they'd talked about trauma and flinching and broken minds...

They'd talked of POW's, and she'd finally understood why he never let them play cops and robbers at the reservation...

Then she'd lost it. Lost her cool at work, got in a gun runners face, gotten shot by her friend...

She was out of the hospital now, left arm in a sling so she didn't forget and move that side of her body too much. In fact, she was just out, no gun, no badge, just her red coat draped over her like a shawl and very careful movements on her part as she edged in the door.

She looked drugged, and too tired to be annoyed at being kidnapped as she slowly sank onto a chair.

futures_of_ash

Spring was in the air, and the lingering traces of Rage and Burning were still drifting in the wind over the lake. Enough to leave grit and energy on the tongue, enough for Rachel to touch her feet to the ground and wiggle her toes in the moist earth even as ash began to swirl about her.

She'd grounded yesterday...but some things needed to be done often, and so with an almost weary chuckle she kicked at the falling flakes and shifted the movement into a twirl, something like delight flitting across her face.

So, there was a security member, slowly dancing with the ash on the wind...and if one listened, one could almost hear the tune to which she drifted....

princess-midna.livejournal.com

Outside Princess Midna is shooting arrows at targets. Taking careful aim before releasing each arrow. The faint whirl of the arrow slicing t4he air is satisfying.

After firming her beliefs of what she is doing with Link is the right thing for a few days in her room, she's outside in the fresh air. Looking in better spirits, it may be a masquerade.

Midna pulls back another arrow and releases it sharply. Hitting its target.

Come bother at will.

Current Music: Somewhere I Belong - Linkin Park

last-talon.livejournal.com

It is common practice on Earth that bars are often neighboring one another. It is much the same on the other side of the universe--

--just not inside the New Republic's pilot academy.

So you can imagine the surprise of this particular, rather cheerful Corellian when he walks--drink in hand and in his jumpsuit, a freshly-added unit patch on his shoulder--from the Academy's tapcaf into another bar. He blinks a couple of times before his brow furrows in mild confusion.

"You'd think someone would've noticed this was here before now..." He scans the room's patrons.

poisonwine

Belle? Is no longer happy. In fact, she's angry. Not as pissed as she once was. But still fairly angry.

She might be muttering about 'putain bâtard's, but she might not as well. Either way, the dart board is suffering. She's switched from normal darts to weapon type darts. Once they go in the board, they don't come out.

Pokable.

rogue-wraith.livejournal.com

Wedge is, actually, a very happy Corellian.

He has quite a few reasons to be a very happy Corellian - he's spent the last week in the cockpit of his beloved X-wing actually flying, rather than just using the poor girl as a transport between capital ships. Emtrey is on the fritz, meaning they're having to 'make do' with a alternate, and much saner, protocol droid. He is going to marry the most beautiful, intelligent, funny, and lovable woman in the entire universe.

He is a very, very happy Corellian.

Doubly so now that he is in a real bar rather than the Officer's Mess, since here he can get a pint of Whyren's and put his feet up on the table while he reads over flight data for his squadron.

(OOC: sorry, gonna have to call slowtimes due to inability to concentrate)

mogget_cat

There is a pale young man in white stretched out in front of the fireplace, fast asleep. Yrael has found that sleep cures many ills, after all, and the fire is nice and warm.

Beware, however, should you happen to step on him.

lvpd_sidle

Sara comes downstairs, dropping a stack of invitations on the Bar. "Would you mind distributing these to all who know and are friendly with Mark and I?"

The stack disappears and a cup of coffee appears in its place. Sara picks it up and takes it to a couch, pulling out a list.

~~Arrangements with Father Mulcahy~~
Arrangements with Scarsdale rabbi
Invitations sent out
Reception planned.

"We should have eloped," she mutters.

old-lizard.livejournal.com

[OOM: An unwelcome visitor]

The front door opened, and Chinthliss walked in, his expression unnaturally blank.

The coat was still stained with a foul-smelling chemical. He ought to remove it, but with only one good arm--and he had his hands full. The pain was blocked, enough for him to think clearly, if not for long. He hadn't looked at the skin under the burned fabric, not yet. Someone else came first. He set his "burden" down on a table, gently.
The entrance to the Infirmary was close, relatively speaking, but it looked a lot further away at the moment.
Approachable, but be cautious, he's not in what anyone would call a good mood.

(all/any tags welcome, slowtime probable)

dats-dildoes.livejournal.com

You know what that is? That's a rock god perched on the windowsill, leaning back against it, apparently just trying to absorb the chaos beyond. His portable amp was off at the moment, though he was still picking idly at the strings of his guitar.

He'll probably autograph something if you ask. Or even if you don't. He's like that.

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

There was a Thief in the rafters, don't worry about hiding your valuables though, for the moment he was just enjoying a cigarette, perched on a crossbeam, leaning against a support.

He'd found that the rafters were as bendy as the regular space of the bar, and was enjoying exploring them.

callitavesper.livejournal.com

[ London, July 2006: James Bond returns, for now. Warnings for snug jeans, lingerie and falling asleep on the couch. ]

The door opens to let in a happy pair of Brits. One, a female, is wearing jeans and a blouse that's about thirty years ahead of her time. She carries with her a shopping bag. The other, a male, is wearing a pair of gray slacks, a black shirt and a pair of parallel, diagonal cuts on his cheek, among many other small cuts around his face. He seems blissfully oblivious to the existence of these cuts.

The happy couple, who you may know as Sarah Jane Smith and James Bond, claim a booth for themselves. Come say hi!

[ ooc: this here is one of them thar multi-pup posts. Tag Sarah, tag James, tag 'um both, just specify as to who you're taggin'.

there is, unsurprisingly, a warning for sexual content in the james-sarah thread. yeah. ]

Current Mood: cheerful

bastardwisdom.livejournal.com

There is something unquestionably fascinating about the end of the universe. One might well assume that this is why Pete Wisdom has been studying the viewing window for the better part of an hour. The vaguely speculative look on his face tells another tale, however - it isn't just fascination with shiny things that draws him. Thus far, the viewing window has been the most alien part of the entire 'end of the universe' package, and on some level the hardest to refute.

So the dark-haired man smokes, and studies the window, and smokes some more. A disruption to this routine would not be an entirely bad thing, at this point.

gorgonfondness

It's impossible for anyone not to be smiling after all the revelry that's happened in the past couple of days and that which is still to come. As it is, Mia is in the best mood she's been in since the celebrations at home ended.

It's also nice to have something different to do. She's asked Bar for the books she was interested in, particularly poetry by Walt Whitman and Robert Frost, and got an invitation.

She wasn't intending to to go Mark's wedding, as she didn't think she knew him well enough to be invited, but now she knows when she has to have a wedding present done.

"Miss Bar, could I have some more clay?"

So now Mia's multitasking. A Robert Frost poem is propped up so she can read while she's working the clay.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Later today Spoon will be entering a strange world full of stranger inhabitants. It will be his first time in a bookstore in years. In addition, he will be going with a very, very grumpy and hungover alpha.

Spoon, as you may recall, spent last night stone cold sober. He has no hangover. He may also look fairly relaxed. His best friend, his alpha, and a collection of random Englishmen sticking up for England in the face of St. Patrick's day. It was good. It was all good.

He's got a cup of tea and his dictionary, as well as Ace's Doberman. The collection of them are by the fire, and Spoon is smoking while reading the dictionary.

observethesound.livejournal.com

There are many kinds of entrance. Some sudden, some shocking, some violent or tragic.
This was a quiet entrance, peaceful. Bright light shining, and a serene smile.
Briefly a figure can be seen in flowing robes upon a lotus flower. The light dims, and there is now a woman, dressed in simple, humble attire. Modern, something that would blend into a crowd of people. Not young, not old, but wise. Kind smiling eyes, gentle expression on her face.
If or when you were a child, and fell down with a hurt. And you just needed somebody to dry your tears, kiss your boo-boo away, and give you a hug. Reassuring you that everything was going to be all right, and you somehow knew that it would be. Her kind face bespoke much of that same feeling.

"Lord Buddha be praised... Finally here," she sighed to herself happily. Too much suffering and cries had gone unanswered for too long, she felt.

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

Jack of the Frost is done with reading poetry. He's taken to writing it.

Or rather, to sitting and peering at blank paper in a booth, trying not to reflect on the fact that stupid spring is almost here.

Think of happier times.

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

[OOM: Indy and Baldrick hit the kitchens to sample another keg of home-brewed cider. A predictable amount of drunken mayhem ensues.]

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's flicking through his book of cocktails as he wanders towards the bar, crashing into several tables (there are yelps and vague shouts of 'meant to do that!' whenever he does) on the way before eventually, somehow, managing to get to the Specials board.

Specials.
Dark 'n' Dirty.
All Night Long.
Star Burst.

He stumbles behind the Bar, waving one arm to the patrons.
"And there's the possibility of a discount if you ask for a drink with either a really, really suggestive name, or a name that makes people not want to drink it."

demonattorney.livejournal.com

A young man, appearing to be about mid-twenties, sits at a table by himself. A suitcase lies flat on the chair closest to him, and a textbook lies open in front of him, attention on the words within it, moving occasionally to sip from the cup at the table.

His attire certainly screams snob, with the frilly necktie and magenta suit he was currently sporting.

truequest.livejournal.com

Zelda is dreaming on the couch.

Every once and a while she smiles in her sleep and shifts slightly.

It's a wonderful dream, but the best part is...it isn't a dream. Wake at will...

badinlatin

"Ma, I have to go to work -- "

"I'll meet you over there," Sallie had told him before clicking off the wave and the pair of them walked through to Milliways one after the other, despite coming from two different sides of the quadrant.

Sallie claims an empty barstool and Mal writes up a note on the board:

Specials:
Anything with brandy is half-off.

"I made your favorite booze on sale, Ma -- does this mean I don't have to listen to maternal commentary all night?"

"No. I'll just now have a brandy snifter in one hand while you get it."

"Damn."

"Watch your mouth." Grin.

[ooc: Tag Mal, Sallie or both! Expect Sallie threadjacking if possible. Threadhopping is highly encouraged! ETA: Threadhopping still encouraged, but no new threads please.]

blue_raz

Raziel sat at the bar flipping a coin and letting it land on the table. He was trying something, it didn't seem to be working, but then again he did have all the time in the world.

ami_imperfect

People might notice when the door to Milliways bangs open.

They might notice the angry shouting coming from the other side.

And they might notice the small, black-haired girl dashing through the door and taking cover under a bar stool or something before the door closes.

After a couple minutes, the girl comes out of her hiding place and looks around.

"Whoa. This doesn't look like an abandoned warehouse."

Welcome to Milliways, Dani ~~Phantom~~ Fenton.

OOC: [My apologies, but slowtime for sleep is necessary. I'll respond to tags tomorrow.]

works-in-space.livejournal.com

[OOM: After the probe leaves, Earth recovers, and Kirk's life changes again.}

pointed-spoon.livejournal.com

There's an elderly man seated near the observation window. For all that he's in what's really a tatty nightrobe, he looks as stately as any king. He's wearing even his sorrow with dignity.

There is sorrow, though. For one reason or another, tonight is a night for remembering.

red-cg-insanity.livejournal.com

Hex sat in her Lair, she shifted restlessly, no Bob.

She stood up from her chair and poofed. She had intended to show up in the park but she ended up in a strange bar. She looked around and strutted to the bar.

first-sixth.livejournal.com

[OOC: The mun will be around for another hour or thereabouts, after which she will be dragging her sorry butt to bed. Tags are love and still welcome after that point, though will be replied to in the morning.]

Tommy's relieved to find himself in Milliways, because it gives him time to Think. Right now he has a lot of Thinking to do, too, concerning a wholly unexpected and monumentally unpleasant situation.

It's happening again.

He's currently sitting in a booth and brooding, something he knows won't really help all that much but still seems like the appropriate course of action for the moment. Someone should probably distract him from it, at least for a bit. After all, time out there stands still, and he could use a bit of destressing to clear his head and help with all that Thinking.

skidrowseymour.livejournal.com

From beyond the Door, a classic '50s hit plays: "When the clock strikes two, three and four,
If the band slows down we'll yell for more!
We’re gonna rock around the clock tonight--"

Seymour enters, baseball cap on head, Band-Aids on fingers, broom in hand. He stares around, confused. Then inspiration strikes and he ducks back out the Door. He returns a moment later, a box of tapes and a Walkman in one hand, and a red flower in a simple pot in the other.

That's why it's very inconvenient when a dizzy spell hits. The young man puts his stuff onto the first table he sees, closes his eyes, breathing deeply until it passes.

Maybe it was your table?

emptiedstreets

"--I DON'T FUCKIN' CARE," Ronan bawls over his shoulder, shouldering through the door without any particular attention paid to his exact location. "DOYLE, YOU CAN SUCK--"

A moment's surprised silence.

"--on me bloody green lolly," he finishes, much more quietly, and slouches towards the Bar proper, hands jammed deep into his pockets.

k_in_black

The Front Door opens and, for just a moment, the sounds of a massive construction site came into the bar, along with a certain Man in Black who hasn't been around in quite a while.

Those who know him well might notice a spring in Agent K's step, not to mention an equally uncharacteristic smile, as he heads over to Bar and orders a bourbon.

As the glass appears in front of him, K pats the bar counter. "Thank you, Darlin'. It's good to be back."

guppy_sandhu

Guppy enters, yawning. Half the department pulled double shifts tonight, and the power's been off half the night, making him feel even more sleepy.

He flops in a comfy chair near the fire, rubbing his forehead and wondering when he last ate.

leftthecradle.livejournal.com

Well, look who the Door dragged in!

An encounter-suited Anla'shok enters...mildly surprised.

"Well, as much as I love your cooking, Ship, I believe I have some people I need to touch base with. I hope you don't mind."

A pause...then a nod of his helmeted and masked head. "Yes, we'll get back to trying to calculate a hyperspace portal here. I promise."

The Door closes behind him and he moves fully into Milliways.

badinlatin

Sometime during Mal's shift, he asks the bar for a piece of paper and a pen.

( Senator Tam: )

And he's back to bartending without missing a beat.

gone_byebye

Ray forgot to go home last night until he was too tired to think of the front door. This is what happens when you're a little obsessed with finishing whatever book you started before sleep time. He went upstairs and crashed in his room instead, paid off his sleep debt thereby, and eventually returned downstairs. He's in the Bar now with his book on knife and tool sharpening propped open to the chapter on selecting your equipment, and he's got three... well, they're probably some sort of teeth, or something. They're about the right color, even if they are a good ten or so inches long each.

He'd probably say hi if you stopped by his table. He's like that.

hungbyathread.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: Back in New Burbage]

Geoffrey Tennant walks into the bar at the end of the universe with a frozen human head in a mini-cooler.

No, there's no punchline. Life is just inconvenient like that.

[slowtime is love]

misterbunny.livejournal.com

Vrrrmmm rrm rmm rmm put put put...

VRRRRRMMMMMMM rrm rmm put put..

"Fisk it!"

The Bunny kicks the miniature engine he has on the table, causing it to rattle on the stand.

RM rmmm rmm rmm...

"Oh, now it works!"

argyle_princess

There are any number of things Hannah could be doing this evening, and even some she probably should be doing -- like an English essay on The Catcher in the Rye, which would be a lot easier if she had actually finished the book.

Instead, she is here. She has coffee, and a half-eaten turkey sandwich which she is currently ignoring in favor of trying to pick a knot out of the chain of her necklace.

It's very, very slow going. An excuse to stop would not be unwelcome.

pig-transcends.livejournal.com

The Transcendent Pig has a newspaper from the Crossings. He's not reading it. He knows what it says. Instead, he's folding it into a paper boat.

Better not to ask how Chao can fold paper using cloven hooves.

kryptonkara.livejournal.com

[OOM: Supergirl has recriminations, doubts, insecurities, and pancakes. Captain Boomerang II doesn't answer his phone.]

[Millitimed to the day after the Bacchanalia.]

bring_a_sponge

And here comes another Man in Black. He's not here because he wants to be, mind. But someone had to get Peter Venkman back into the bar, and K had already left.

And so, in comes Agent Zed, grumbling a bit about, "Can't believe I'm doing this on purpose."

Waiting for Venkman to come in, Zed shuts the Door behind them, and then sees Agent K over by the bar.

"C'mon, Doc. Your drinks are on me tonight."

[OOC: Plot-locked to bring Venkman back to the bar, but Zed will also be in the K thread for tagging.]

cheevy.livejournal.com

Here are two faces recently absent! Miniver and Draco have come out of hiding and are down in the bar together. Miniver is practicing spells, with Draco looking on and making sure he doesn't accidentally cause any major damage. They have tea, and are very botherable.

[ooc: Two pups, two muns, tag one or both, just specify who!]

princess-midna.livejournal.com

Chocolate shakes. Nothing beats 'em.

Bar figured she would like one. So Princess Midna is enjoying her first chocolate milkshake.

Good for her!

Come bother. She's in the mood to chat with someone.

teh-data-fork.livejournal.com

Adam's napping in the bar yet again. He'll be mortified when he wakes up, but for the moment, he's positively out cold, slouched on the couch in such a way that anyone trying to walk past the fireplace will likely trip over his long legs if they're not careful.

Thus far, nobody has put anything unpleasant in his hair. But YOU COULD BE THE FIRST.

Or you could just poke at him and wake him up. He'll be grateful once he stops bitching, really.

blue_raz

Raziel was still sitting at the bar flipping the coin that had been provided by the bar. He had been flipping it for a few hours now and it still hadn't landed on it's edge.

"mmm," he flipped and it landed heads up.

oh-wowee.livejournal.com

Toki Wartooth is... Happy!

Overjoyed!
Beyond words flippin' out dancin' around HAPPY.

okay, so maybe not that last bit, since he's just sitting beside Bar, talking to her and regailing in the tale of how he totally had the balls to finally ask out a girl and she said yes and it was going to be the most metal thing ever.

This would be a bad time for raining on his parade, Skwisgaar.

Just sayin'.

(ooc: not particularly plotlocked, but hey, if you want to come celebrate, go for eet.)

Current Mood: ecstatic

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

He's laughing as he walks through the door. The young man, perhaps eighteen, isn't paying much attention to what's in front of him, all his attention is what lies behind him.

It's a gathering of some sort, with quiet music and modest laughter.

Oscar had said something witty again.

He pauses to straighten his jacket and hears the door close and he spins, frowning. Then he realises this wasn't the dining room. Robbie glances around nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket.

This... was not... right.

the_lioness

[OOM: Thom asked a favor of Alanna last night.

Today, Alanna considers. No decision is reached, save what her next step will be.

Therefore, Bar now has a note for Lucifer.]

abar-starclog.livejournal.com

Carl's still reading. In theory, anyway. In practice, the temptation of a blank book cover has mostly won out once again.
Really, this one's just demanding a jungle for stick-figure exploration. It's entirely possible one of those poor stick figures will be eaten by a crocodile before all's said and done.
There are a few moments when he's actually reading, but mostly he's either doodling or people-watching.

stbethadettes

(Beth and Junior take a quick break from Oldenbrook.)

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

OOM: Sometimes darkness is an emptiness that hides nothing at all. Other times it is a cloak around things forgotten, but not lost.

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

Jack is back in the bar, after a hasty and horrified exit earlier this afternoon, in a darkish corner, looking unusually shaken.

Looking out for basically anybody and clutching something in his hand so hard that his fingers are white and it's biting painfully into his palm.

yukon-2019.livejournal.com

Lucy enters Milliways through the back door. Like drawn by an invisible thread, she reaches a free table in front of an observation window. Blinking once ... twice at the show, she takes seat - in a strange solemn manner that seems to be part of every action tonight. She reaches under her coat, and as it happens to be transparent, one may recognize the worn out teddy-bear in its worn out uniform before it`s pulled out and placed upon the table, head turned, so that one puppet glass eye is kept on the Bar while the other one stares at the scene outside. For a moment Lucy brings her face near Bear`s head closely. "What do you think? Could this be a place to stay?" Indeed, she whispers in the same way she acts.

But right now that mood falls off. The girl`s slouching on her chair, pokes Bear with a laugh and joins him watching, cheerfully this time. Bar-life, or the end of the world, or both.