milliways_bar | Mar. 19th, 2007

Mar. 19th, 2007

tosharethesky.livejournal.com

For once, Helva doesn't enter with fanfare or drama.
She simply appears, an ordinary, dark-haired woman, by the lakeside door.
It would take scrutinizing very closely to see that she isn't precisely there in the flesh. She's had a lot of time to perfect that hologram to look "alive."

Of course, should anyone touch her, or try? She's good, but not that good.

She looks around, smiling. "Think I'm going to like this place..." murmurs, and starts toward the Bar itself. Botherable, if she doesn't nab you first. It's highly likely.

bannion_sight

[OOM: An unexpected encounter on the road to Gwen Ystrat.]

unwraith.livejournal.com

Wraith don't suffer from insomnia. It's natural they only sleep every few days.
So, Michael's wide awake and has a half dozen books on the table along with his Guinness. He's skimming through them, occasionally frowning, along with mutters such as
"...why does he keep letting her do that?"

Botherable for now or for slowtimes.

fran-goldsmith.livejournal.com

She's had a break from bad-tempered family members, a few days where she could just enjoy herself and not worry about other people's expectations.
Talking to Maeve earlier had helped, as well. Fran can't dodge forever, though, so she's at the front door with her dog and a travel bag. She leaves a note for Maeve, thanking her, and enclosing a small ink drawing she'd done of the other girl. Hopefully it's something the fae will like, she's really not sure.

She'll be back, but, time to head home and face the music.

The door shuts gently behind her and Chaser.

lady_moon

[OOM: Millitimed to last Sunday -- Moon and Indy spend time together in Indy's suite. Unaccustomed deepness, a lot of schmoopy-ness, brownies liberated, and brief female nudity.]

callmedavid.livejournal.com

[OOM: The next attack is different from all those that preceded.]

Current Music: While to that rock I'm clinging

blue_raz

Raziel was still sitting at the bar flipping his proverbial coin. He'd been at it for hours. He flipped, it landed heads up. Again, He flipped, it landed tails up.

He is distract able, or at least talked too.

works-in-space.livejournal.com

Jim enters the bar, dressed down - gray sweatshirt, faded old jeans, loafers. He's smiling, looking more relaxed than he has since he first set foot here.

Come and say hi. You might hear a whale of a tale.

doh-nutlover.livejournal.com

The door to the Bar swings open, there's nothing unusual about this except for the fat, bald guy in his underpants that walks through it.

Homer glances around the Bar suspiciously while scratching his butt.

"Marge...When did we have Bar put into the bathroom?"

He looks over his shoulder waiting for Marge's reply but there's only a wall there now. He shrugs his shoulders and heads towards the Bar.

"Bartender? Anyone serving here?" He scratches his ass again and waits to see if a Bartender appears.

(OOC: Homer Simpson in da Bar. Come on people you know you've always wanted to play with Homer!)

mendanddefend_archive

After teams Alpha and Delta returned from fighting the Black Oil, Bob grabbed Dot and headed back to Mainframe immediately. After nearly six straight weeks in Milliways, he was more than ready to spend some time at home.

It's been about a week since he was seen in the bar. It would have been longer, but the door snuck up on him, as it tends to do sometimes.

Bob steps in and takes a wary look around. No puppets... no yuppies... no writhing masses of greenish tentacles. Looks like it's safe to come back, at least for the moment.

[ooc: ~~Out for a stroll. Back in an hour or two.~~ Back. DAMN it's hot out for March.]

http://users.livejournal.com/_jack_oneill/

"Whaddya know, a magic bar," Jack says as he walks into Milliways instead of his office. "Couldn't it have turned up before I got my ass talked off by scientists?"

Progress reports on rocks ("So, what is it? A new explosive? A cure for cancer?" "It reacts with potassium!" "Does it blow up?" "No, it melts." "...") aren't among his favourite ways to spend a late afternoon.

"Jack Daniels on the rocks," he says to Bar. It's still not there by the time he hops up on a bar stool and rolls up his sleeves, so he rolls his eyes and adds, "Please."

He doesn't exactly receive a generous amount of whiskey.

He sighs.

[ooc: class time! back at 4pm edt. ♥ ]

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

(OOM: When hunting for extended periods of time, don't forget to take breathers now and again.)

gone_byebye

There've been some interesting reports of a general feeling of bad mojo emanating from the pylons on the Bronx side of the Throgs Neck Bridge over the past several days, so Ray and Egon've been investigating the area like crazy. It's not bad most of the time, working outdoors when slime isn't involved, but the winds pick up like crazy at bad moments and the temperature drops like a brick. Ray's gonna have to see whether that's natural for the region or possibly attributable to something trying to infiltrate the bridge.

Later, though. Right now? Lunch. And Girl Scout cookies. Ray feels no qualms about buying those here because at home, 'Girl Scout cookies' translate into 'Egon chow' before they can even translate into 'Slimer chow'.

feminine-menace.livejournal.com

YT's in a good mood this morning. She doesn't so much walk as skip down the stairs to the bar proper. There's a persistent faint smile on her face that she couldn't supress if she tried, not that she wants to. Anyone who didn't already know her would be under the impression that she is by nature a cheerful, pleasant person.

This is a big change from a couple of days ago, when she'd just fininshed reading her story, which was like watching home videos of herself as a small child doing stupid and embarrassing things. No, worse than that, it was like watching her old home videos in a theater with a million other people. Not cool. Especially since her story described something she did that was particularly stupid, and should have stayed private, in very graphic detail. She was not safe to be around, much less talk to, for a while after that.

But since then, she's had a couple of big reasons to cheer up. One, she seems to have found herself a boyfriend who is, for a change, actually decent and well-mannered. Actually, she's not sure how to classify her relationship with Merlin, but she likes it. Two, her friend Hiro has joined her. He was apparently so freaked out when she dropped out of the Metaverse that he went after her (how sweet!) and ended up walking through the Front Door - about a minute after she disappeared, by his reckoning, and about a month after she got in herself, by hers. Unfortunately Hiro didn't bring YT's door with him, so they're both Bound now, which is kind of a problem. But at least YT's not totally on her own now, and Hiro's got a person from his own milieu to help him get used to Milliways. Helping her pod get a clue is actually something YT rather enjoys.

She hops onto a barstool and taps Bar's surface. "Mornin'. Cinnamon raisin oatmeal, some sliced melon and milk, please." Bar obgliges her with a breakfast tray that, for some reason, comes with a small narrow vase containing a few tiny purple flowers. "Nice touch," she says with a smirk before picking up her spoon and digging into her oatmeal.

Since neither Merlin nor Hiro seem to be around - at least, she hasn't spotted them - she probably wouldn't mind someone to share her good spirits with.

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Location: At the Bar

callitavesper.livejournal.com

Bar has kindly provided James with the newspapers he's missed over the weekend. He's currently perusing them at a booth with a cup of coffee and an empty plate. Those cuts on his face have not gone away yet.

Current Mood: relaxed

hcliffhuxtable.livejournal.com

Cliff is grouchy, all right. He's just left the Infirmary.
Going to the Bar, he leaves a

( note )
He deposited the note with Bar, to give to any friends or, heck, for all he knew, family, that Chinthliss might have in the Bar. They hadn't had all that long a conversation.

That done, he goes in search of black coffee. No breakfast. He couldn't stomach
anything right now.

deathtowheaties.livejournal.com

Cereal is sitting on a table, eating fries and typing on a laptop. His headphones are on, and he occasionally takes breaks to dance to favorite parts, or sing particularly good lyrics. It's like a very cheap concert, right in the middle of the bar.

You know you want to poke him.

tosharethesky.livejournal.com

Helva's still in the Bar. She'd been observing, and more to the point, listening. The place was a bit livelier than she'd noticed last night, which was a definite improvement to her mind.
She's got a spot near the Observation Window. The display doesn't bother her; she's been out in space several times, after all, and is familiar with the idea of entropy.
Company's always welcome.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

OOM: There are good days and there are bad days.

zoe-heriot.livejournal.com

The door opens and a dark-haired girl in a futuristic jumpsuit peers in. She frowns slightly before entering the rest of the way, moving slowly and blinking wide eyes at the scene before her.

So the TARDIS is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside? After a few hours of exploring, Zoe has no trouble believing that. "But Jamie and the Doctor said they were traveling alone," she says, half to herself. "So what on Earth is this?"

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

Unsurprisingly, Sarah Jane is over by the fireplace today with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. Her notepad's opened up on her lap, but instead of writing, she's staring out at the fire and chewing on the cap of her pen.

There's a small smile on her face that may even be described as dreamy by some. If asked, she may deny it, but there's a good chance she won't. Havana aside, this past weekend was rather lovely indeed.

[ooc: the mun may dissappear due to dizzy spells. but right now, she needs a distraction from things.]

twostandingby

Tycho blinks as he steps into the bar, but only for a moment. He smiles, then, faintly, and makes his way through the bar, and himself comfortable on the couch. He tips his head back, datapad resting on his knee, and he closes his eyes.

Not sleeping. Resting his eyes.

Really.

re_mybrains

[From The Zombie Survival Guide, chap. 4, pg. 100: No matter what your chances for survival are during an infestation, they will undoubtedly drop by 50 if not 75 percent when traversing an urban area.]

The front door opens.

The man who comes sprinting through is lean, carrying a pack on his back and a gun in his hand, and looks and smells like he hasn't had a lot of time for personal hygiene lately. He pulls the door shut with a slam and then spins around to point the gun in front of him.

And stops.

There's really no way to properly verbalize the what goes through a guy's brain when he's expecting to be faced with an empty building, or maybe some zombified former residents of said building, and instead is faced with a bustling, brightly lit bar.

So Tom won't try.

He's just gonna stand here for a minute with the gun out and his jaw dropped until his brain tries to catch up with current events.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Some days are better than others. He opens the door five or six times, today, hoping to find the hall. Instead it's Milliways. Milliways, Milliways, Milliways, and at the sixth opening of the door he slides through it and moves for the other door with a too-silent, too-watchful sort of stride. Some days are, after all, better than others.

oh-frak-me.livejournal.com

*Kara fell asleep at the bar last night and is slumped over her notebook, her head on her hands*

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

There's an Atton, sprawled out on the sofa, looking exceptionally pleased with himself and scribbling in a notebook. Most of it is scribbled out, the rest of it is illegible on account of Atton's handwriting being Not Especially Good.

There are juggling balls lying around him, discarded, and he's humming. Loudly. And at just the right pitch to irritate passersby. He does it deliberately.

Botherable.

evryinchbut1.livejournal.com

Your server is: Valerie

Waitress on duty; feel free to flag her down.

visible_sariel

OOM. It takes time to heal.

Millitimed to directly before Sariel walked into the bar. contains spoilers for the Next Generation episode Schisms, and rated D for Dark in places.

johnnycoolguy.livejournal.com

One never knows quite what canon will decide to do to Milo, so here he is in the Bar for a cup of coffee and a cigarette while his mun watches him get pwned in real time.

He is entirely oblivious, as Day Six hasn't started for him yet, so he might even be cheerful if you chat with him, and will...probably put out the cig if you ask.

were-needed.livejournal.com

Steed managed to get out last night, to his surprise finding that indeed no more time had elapsed.

Unfortunately this meant he walked straight into a cybernaut again.

His manner of entry is of similar theme to the previous, except this time he is hit across the head by a blonde woman with a sort of glazed expression. He falls through the door, out cold for the second time in one ~~episode~~ day.

He's not having much luck right now.

child-murderer.livejournal.com

Insert long exausting background of a mass murderer who was chosen to become the first "papa" of Poke's group, who then killed said leader, had a club foot repaired, killed again (there were a few more in there), Sent to battle school, left hanging in a vent with his murders recordered, sent to a mental insitution, rescued from said insitution by Russians, led the Russian forces to finish the decomposition of the Third Warsaw Pact, abducted Ender's Jeesh and others, captured Petra, forced out of Russia, found a nitch in India, forced resolution between Pakistan and India, almost concured the world only to have his plans dashed as a little arch-enemy called Bean decided to rescue Petra, and carried away with the Chineese. His name is Achilles by the way. (Ah-Sheel) not like one would think.

But yes. Mass murderer (who is about... 13/14ish) has not had a good past few days. The Chineese thought they could use him, but he got away. No one could hold Achilles. He was too smart. The Universe Bent to His Will. Now it was time for... calculated revenge.

He opens a door.

There is /no/ office on the other side of it. There are tables. And chairs. And people drinking.

What. the. hell.

Of course, insert closing door.

Mass Murderer who is liked by almost everyone he meets. Anyone wanta explain?

guppy_sandhu

The doctor is in

Guppy is in a booth near the infirmary, having a cheese and pickle sandwich.

There's a couple of cupcakes in front of him, which are available for nabbing if anyone wants to come and talk to him.

***

Shufti and Jack run into the bar, the baby sobbing and both of them looking frightened. As soon as Jack is safe, she turns and draws her sword and turns back to the door.

"No, don't follow us, go away!" she yells, waving the sword at a large swan that follows them through, hissing and snapping at them. It doesn't seem the least bit concerned about the sword.

Shufti flails, wondering whether to grab Jack and run or try and chop the bird's head off.

***

Snowball is out back, doing a spot of lawn mowing with his teeth. Two of the piglets are there pulling up dandlions that are in the way.

first-sixth.livejournal.com

[OOC: Mun is having computer issues and must offline for a while. Go ahead and tag, and I will reply when I'm back up and running. Go on, you know you want to! It's your last chance until late in the week, after all.]

Tommy is exhausted, to say the least. Currently he's sprawled on a sofa with one forearm thrown over his eyes; he's not asleep, just drained from the events of yesterday. There may not have been an intense battle today, like yesterday afternoon, but the whole issue of their newest opponent has not left his mind for a moment. The waiting is almost worse than the fighting; Tommy far prefers the adrenaline of a battle to the nerve-wracking anticipation of one.

-Damn... I never realised just what the guys went through, all those years ago. And this guy might not even be that bad. I'm gonna be apologising to Jason about that one for the rest of my life.- He grimaces. -Which may not be all that long, if we're not careful with this guy.-

The thought that his friends, not even out of high school, had had to deal with something worse than the White Ranger gives him unpleasant twitchy feelings all down his spine. Anyone care to distract him from this line of thinking before he goes from tired to morose?

kryptonkara.livejournal.com

Kara has been enjoying a nice game of 'find the cape' outside Milliways.

Is it on the beach? No.

Is it in the lake? No.

Did the rabbits take it? No.

Is it, perhaps, inside somehow? No.

...Maybe enjoying is the wrong word. Kara is currently taking a small sulking break on the shore of the lake, the ice in front of her throughly melted and steaming slightly as she scowls at it.

[OOC: Plot-locked to Will Scarlett.]

someboywonder.livejournal.com

Running around Gotham City by rooftop, swinging from building to building, taking the train when I need to really make tracks (no pun intended), all of that stuff is easy for me by now. I'm not the rookie I was not so long ago. I know the tricks to it all now, I know how to land a tricky swing and how to ride the roof of a train without falling off or getting myself killed. I'm good at it too; maybe not as good as Nightwing or Batman, but still good for my age!

That being said, when you expect to fly through an open window at high speed and take on three heavily armed robbers, having just released your grappling hook, and instead find yourself hurling far too fast through the front door of a strange, very out of place bar, well...it's easy for anyone to botch that landing.

I certainly do.

Confused and disoriented by the sudden change in my surroundings, I feel my feet touch the ground and all of a sudden I'm going head over heels, hard. I feel myself smash into a couple of things (chairs, tables I guess. Hopefully not people.) before I hit something really hard. It takes me a minute to stop the room from spinning, but I remember my training. Nothing's broken, as far as I can tell; bruised as all hell, sure, but not broken. The mask is on, everything on my utility belt seems to still be in place, and for the moment, nobody seems hostile.

A glance behind me reveals that I hit (you guessed it) the bar itself. Looks like I traveled pretty far; it's no small distance from here to the door I must have come through. I stand, shakily, steadying myself carefully by putting a hand on the bar behind me while I try to ignore the seriously nasty bruise that's got to be starting up on my back.

You know, I get teased a lot for being trained by the world's greatest detective and all, and I mean, yeah, I am pretty clever I guess, but I still haven't got a clue where the hell I am.

explorertruman.livejournal.com

Truman had taken a nap out back. Just him and a sleeping bag. Trying to acclimate to the cold. It worked pretty well actually. Dreams were peaceful. He came back in refreshed.

Even decided to try the door today. He took a step in, and there was a cool breeze. Not cold. Actually felt nice. It had opened to a park, green grass sprouting. Spring. He gave a small smile at that, and closed the door.

Now everything else seemed silly.

"Letting my imagination run away again, yeah, yeah..." He laughed to himself as he headed over to the bar to order something different and light.

creator_raven

[OOM: Wherein Alanna maybe wishes for visitors, but probably not the ones she gets. No one sane wishes for Lilly and Raven at the same time!]

futures_of_ash

She hadn't bothered changing when she got back, she'd simply delivered a plushie to the medlab and then headed straight out the back door. She kicked off her shoes immediately to wiggle her toes in the damp earth and sighed, allowing the flame to blossom over her skin. She'd been holding it in all day, and it was almost relaxing to just let go.

After a good few minutes of leaning against the wall and flickering, she slicked her hands down her scarred arms and started pacing towards the lake. Yes, the waters were a very good idea at the moment...

brotherspider

Picture the following... In the middle of the bar, a man stands in a cleared-out area, doing...something. He is sharply-dressed in black, wearing a blindfold and swinging a long object in practice. The thing that he is swinging is a black skull-cane. The blindfold appears to be his black tie. There is a black portable karaoke machine, playing something very calm and samurai-like. This is what seems to be happening: Spider Nancy is training himself to blind-fight, as if carrying a sword. There is no explanation as to why, but he is doing it, and that is all that matters.

He is botherable, but only as the pebble disturbs the surface of the pond.