milliways_bar | Apr. 3rd, 2007

Apr. 3rd, 2007

puckishly.livejournal.com

[OOM: Puck is not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be.

Also known as The Most Lamentable Comedie, and Most Cruell Death, of Sam-I-Am and the Resulting Injunction to Searche for His Unhatch'd Egge.]

watchmakers_son

Sylar wakes up to the sound of a clock ticking.

Well. Not quite. Clocks have an order to them; what Sylar wakes up to is the clash of twenty off-kilter clocks with each one running in its own direction.

Being glad to hear how unbalanced and broken Milliways is as it rocks back and forth across the brink of the apocalypse: that's something he never would have expected the first time he walked into the bar. It takes a few minutes to recalibrate himself to it, and several more to run a handful of personal tests, experimentally levitating the room's night stand and coating the mirror with a thin scrim of frost.

Satisfied (and more relieved than he'd prefer to be, in truth), he heads downstairs -- and when he sees the front door, he strides over and yanks it open without a second's thought.

[OOC: No tags, please, we're ~~British~~ just establishing Sylar's exit.]

deathtowheaties.livejournal.com

There's a Cereal Killer in a bar.

A very happy Cereal Killer. He's got his laptop back.

And his body.

But, yano, laptop. Plus iPod.

He seems to be hugging them, intermittently.

A happy hacker is more than willing to share his glee.

(Going to be on off and on throughout the day, so slowtimes are the best times.)

fortunateking.livejournal.com

Now, what could that strange looking figure in the lake be?

A big, orange fish?

... a big, orange fish with black stripes?

... ... a big, orange fish with stripes and fur and whiskers and a tail?

No, it's not a fish! It's a tiger. And not just any tiger, mind you! It's Tiger with a capital T (~~that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!~~) -- King Tiger, to be precise, although he will assure you that formalities are not needed -- and he's playing!

The water, sparkling under the sunlight, makes for a perfect pouncing target, so be careful if you come near! You might get very wet.

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

[OOM: Quinn and Creedy leave Milliways for the world they know all too well, and the human race loses that much more ground.]

fiveroundsrapid.livejournal.com

"Well, I really don't see where-"

It's the change in sound that stops the Brigadier's words mid-sentence; he glances up with a rueful expression. "Remind me," he says to no one in particular, "that even a doorway from room to room, without a door in it, can qualify to drag me to this place." A quick look over his shoulder reveals that the Milliways door is quite present, and a test of the door knob shows that it's acting as it always does. With an irritated sigh he heads for the Bar proper. Reginald Styles is simply going to have to wait.

nita_callahan

[OOM: Millitimed to March 27.

Nita returns home. Her dad's waiting up for her.

Rated A for Awwww.]

priestoftravel.livejournal.com

Nicholas Wolfwood decided that today, he was going to attempt something new. For him, it was breakfast time.

"Get me something I'd love, darlin', I need a fresh perspective."

Bar procured a small bowl of cottage cheese with peach slices resting daintily atop the heap of white clumps, smothered in raspberry sauce, a glass of carbonated pineapple juice, a pack of his regular cigarettes, a pen and a thank-you note which was empty. He smiled then, "Light breakfast, not bad."

Taking this all to his booth, he slid into a sitting position, wondering what he was going to write on the card.

Distractions are welcome.

visible_sariel

Sariel's feeling far more normal today. This likely has something to do with the uniform she's in; it's red, for one. It's also not part gods-awful short skirt, for another. True, yesterday did see her clothing changed back to it's usual fairly conservative norm, but today's the first day she's walked around in her on-duty clothes since ending up in Milliways.

She's already gotten breakfast--white tea and some decidedly dark wheat toast with peanut butter--and is on her way over to an unoccupied seat when she glances casually up and over at what has, for the past two weeks, been a blank wall.

Except this time, there's a door there.

A door that will undoubtedly swish in the manner that only Starfleet standard mechanisms do. A door that leads to home or at least, temporary home. The Enterprise. Her friends, her post, a comm unit that works both ways, direct and back to a house with a thousand windows in Saint Lucia. Mandy, Lian, Alyssa.

Sonya.

That breakfast ends up back on Bar's surface with a murmur of apology, and a hurried, breathless request for a pad turns up a notepad and pen instead. Oh well. Sariel's handwriting is as steady as it can be using an instrument she hasn't in years, and what's left with Bar just before she moves across the room at just short of a run is addressed to

( Admiral Kirk )

when that door bangs shut, it's accompanied by a muffled swish. Sariel's on the other side of it, for now.

OOC: This is how a lady pilot gets unbound. Sariel's out of the bar, for the moment. I'll bring her back in soonish. :)

captainryan.livejournal.com

((Captain Ryan changes his mind.))

If you go out in the woods tonight
You'd better not go alone.
It's lovely out in the woods tonight
But safer to stay at home.

For there’s a ‘wolf that only recently was,
He’ll gather there for certain because
Tonight's the night a werewolf has his picnic.

[OOC: Not even close to being plot-locked, but please ping moonlup on AIM before tagging. I should be on till at least 2 AM CST.]

hcliffhuxtable.livejournal.com

Cliff's had a LONG week.
There was dealing with Sondra and her latest boyfriend.("How ugly is he?")

There were four deliveries all within an hour and a half of each other at work.

There was no hot water, or running water, at home, due to a squabble among his children that caused stopped up pipes(with someone's favorite bra, among other things.)

Now? There is a Cliff who is on a couch, with pizza, hot coffee, and a couple of fairly
silly old movies on DVD. Ghostbusters is one, the other, well...it may be bending the rules, but it's been the sort of day where Cliff really doesn't care.

There's a portable DVD player on the nearby table. He takes a minute or two to figure out how it works, but then he's golden.

...no, not literally.
Company's welcome, familiar faces or not.

((last post for Cliff here at Milliways. I won't give him an official 'forever exit' post, but after this he's retiring. Any and all tags welcome, including slowtimed.ETA: just realized I have to go to medical appointment. Will be back in the morning to answer any tags. Sorry folks.))

Current Mood: cheerful

soulkeepersong.livejournal.com

Oh, hey, bar at the end of the universe. Awesome, I can get my homework done. I make my way over to one of the booths and start pulling out books. Let's see, got some US History, some Pre-Algebra, and I'm supposed to have read the first chapter of Lord of the Flies by tomorrow. I've already done all my chores, so if I get my homework done here, I'll have the rest of the day free.

Well, this is kinda boring. Come distract me?

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi and Whistler re-enter the bar after their vacation. Oh, there are things to do back home and they'll be leaving again before terribly long...but there are things to do here as well. From the look of things, Suzi at least spent a lot of time in the sun. She's bronzed in a way that would have modern baselines worried about skin cancer. There aren't any visible tan-lines. She's got her fingers threaded through Whistler's and a smile.

There's also some tension, but she'll be going to make sure that Richard is alright after they're settled just a bit. "Well...nobody burned it down while we were gone." She informs the tall Gen.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Random of Amber is in the bar, looking pleased as punch. Some things have been accomplished. While he and Ramon were in a very, very public place, obviously not accomplishing these things.

All in all, it went off without a hitch. So here he is, tired and happy and reading headlines about murder in a newspaper written in a language that no one on Earth or any affiliated planets speak.

teh-data-fork.livejournal.com

Adam slogs into Milliways directly from his office and slings his computer exhaustedly onto the bartop. God, CTU sucks sometimes.

"Bar, can I have a turkey club on white and, uh, a beer of your choice?" He collapses (Adam never merely 'sits' anywhere) onto a barstool, wearily rubbing his eyes.

When he looks up again, the Bar has provided him with a Coke and some turkey between two pieces of matzo.

It is the middle of July in Adam's world. He is not happy about all this.

"Bar," he says irritably, "you do realize I pretty much stopped practicing two years ago."

Nothing happens. Bar's silence seems almost reproachful. Adam glares for a bit, but even he feels stupid engaging in a staring contest with a slab of wood. Besides, it's not really true that he's gone non-practicing. He just wants a real sandwich for dinner.

"Somehow, my civil rights are being violated here," he sighs, and grudgingly bites into the matzo.

wizard_dresden

Okay, so the only clean shirt I could find was the one with the phrase Support Your Local Medical Examiner -- Die Strangely imprinted on it. Bite me. It's clean.

Specials
1 free drink to anyone who's died strangely*
*proof of death required

For the living:
Happy Hour prices for - Death Wish

"What'll ya have?"

command_dot_com

When Dot went back home, mildly surprsing the system hadn't gone into entire disorder. That being said, she still had plenty of other disorder to tire her out. Two games, and a very bad meeting with a group of binomes who wanted access to the 'Net port. To boot, someone had so dutifully suggested that someone might try and harm the Command.Com to get 'Net access.

Thus, when entering through a surprise door in her office, she had a pair of twin 'shadow'-bots following her every move. The bots in question have, at best, the combined intelligence of a toaster oven.

That ended the moment the two bots realized they were not in the principal office anymore and stopped their dome-heads twirling around to gape.

"Hack? Were we not in the office just now?" Spoke the blue one.

"Yes, Slash. We were in the office." Said the red one, his chest plate lighting up as he spoke.

"But this is not the office."

"It is not the office, yes."

A pause.

"Where are we?"

"I do not know, Slash."

Dot groaned and put her hand to her head, this was just great. "We're in Milliways. I want you two to be on your best behavior, got it?"

"Yes Sir-ma'am!" "Yes Sir-mum!"

Milliways. Meet the bots, Hack and Slash. The bots in question have, at best, the combined intelligence of a toaster oven.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

There are decided benefits to brothers who will willingly run with you (or fly alongside) until you practically collapse.

One of those benefits is a decided lack of twitchiness the next day.

Ace is sprawled on the couch, the epitome of utmost laziness, reading a book.

"Count of Monte Cristo", if you have to know.

foxy-l33t.livejournal.com

Laini has gadgets and gizmos and other electronic innards spread out on the table in front of her. And headphones on, while she hums tunes and sings lyrics-

~I shouldn't have looked back man I'll always regret it
Something's going on and I'll probably never get it
She was crying like a baby - stupid dumb
It's just too bad that girl's a bum~

Well, for a given value of 'singing', anyways.

Anyone should feel free to interrupt her before Laini proves that she does know all of 'Paul Revere' by heart.

Current Music: .... go on, guess

realmrsreynolds

It's an old lady.

With a spatula.

"...I just wanted to get some peas from my cabinet, Bar," Sallie chides no one in particular, making her way to the bar for a coffee.

alec-or-alonzo.livejournal.com

"Well, good bye loves! I'll see you in the bright and early tomorrow!" calls a voice from the front door, and Phil Gordon opens it, stepping inside with a wave to the crowd of friends behind her. Her eyes widen, and her face breaks into an even bigger grin.

"Well, now! Look at that. You're a cheerier sight than my boarding house, and no mistake about it," she says to the Bar at large, "Where have you been for so long, Bar, darling," she says, patting the bartop affectionately.

She deposits her school books and hops up on a bar stool, with that ever-present smile.

jack_f_twist

Well, look at that.

It ain't like there are better places on Shadow to sit and have a smoke and a beer--no better place than this couch by the fire with that low table that's just the right height for Jack to put a boot up onto, so why stay there when he might as well come by Milliways and have all that plus the chance of some company that ain't gonna swear at him in Mandarin or flap a towel at his head.

Probably.

Not to mention Jack's always been the optimistic sort, and that door ain't on Shadow, neither. So if he wants to wait and see if anyone he knows walks through--

anyone at all, no one in particular

(Yeah, sure.)

--then he's gotta be here.

And anyway, he just kinda likes the place.

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine comes downstairs to work her shift. She looks distracted, but she'll be happy to serve whoever needs anything.

How may she help you?

kitchen_maid

Amy comes in this evening, bent nearly double, inching forward.

It's a very odd way to walk, really.

Unless, of course, you're helping your daughter learn to walk.

Then it make perfect sense.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

One more night and things will be back as close to normal as they ever are. Annie can live with that. However, she's still got a duty to the other patrons since Harry isn't around, so up goes the sign on the back door.

Attention Milliways Patrons:

Tonight is the last night of the full moon. Please be aware that some of our patrons are werewolves, and that they are abroad in the woods tonight. It is strongly suggested that you refrain from going anywhere near the forest tonight. Thank you.

And now, because she's tired of cooking for herself, she's getting corn fritters and rice and possibly asparagus. Even she gets tired of exotic stuff sometimes.

poisonwine

Belle is 19 today.

She's looking much more cheerful now than the past few weeks.

Except for being a little worn around the edges.

It's been a surprisingly withdrawal free day. Which is good.

first-sixth.livejournal.com

It's a visibly relieved Tommy Oliver who walks through the door and, to his delight, finds himself in the exact same clothing that he'd been wearing prior to entering the bar. Finding a vacant table he sits down and begins to attempt some reasonably simple origami with large and vibrantly coloured sheets of paper provided by Bar.

The whole thing is an effort to improve his level of manual dexterity with the gloves on, but the first crane still comes out pretty lopsided. Oh, well -- it's still colourful.

He's in a cheerful mood today and wholly botherable! (Especially if you happen to be good at paper folding, because Tommy's definitely not.)

priestoftravel.livejournal.com

Still working on quality New-Experience having, Nicholas walked up to the bar, and handed her a note "Make sure that gets to Belle?" And bar disappeared it off.

"Anyway, Darlin', that breakfast was great, but what can you give me for dinner?"

Bar appeared a delicious looking dinner, none of the food on the plate or in the glass from Earth or Stantal. It got Nicholas to smile.

He dropped himself into a seat at a table, and dug in.

Sure beats the hell out of spaghetti. The drink was less than desirable, but he wasn't going to complain. He wasn't even sure it was alcoholic!!

The humanity!

Botherable in every sense of the word, and thoroughly pleased with the food in his stomach, he kicked back and started reading. He'd recently found a book in his room that wasn't The Bible. It was, in fact, The Complete Works of George Orwell. He was on the story Animal Farm.

oneman_onevote

Even the silent and interaction-shy have to eat.

Which is why, for a short time, Havelock actually isn't skulking outside or in the shadows, but sitting sideways-on at the bar where he can see most of the populace, with a depressingly healthy dinner of stir-fried vegetables and a bread roll. He's drinking water, and looking around with an expression that suggests laziness, but is probably anything but.

Come and say hi! You know you want a blank stare in return!

[OOC: I'm only on for an hour or two, but I felt the overwhelming need to play. Slowtimes are recieved with delight!]