milliways_bar | Apr. 19th, 2007

Apr. 19th, 2007

simon_doctor

[OOM, millitimed to last night: Simon has a talk with Kitty Pryde. Plans are made, and names are discussed.]

gonna_live

[That means Kaylee gets to fly.]

blue-star-badge.livejournal.com

It was coldish out, as well as dampish, so Bar hadn't let Adric go outside without a scarf. He didn't mind, really, in fact, he was rather fond of the scarf given as how it was two or three times as long as he was tall and made a rather interesting challenge during knife throwing. Besides that it was warm, and fuzzy, and brightly rainbow-striped, so it was probably a good thing he wasn't trying to be sneaky.

In other words, shortish assistant dishwasher in a striped scarf practicing knife-throwing out by the lake.

azure-mercy.livejournal.com

If you've been in or near the edge of the woods for the past half-hour, you may have heard the strains of a wordless, hauntingly beautiful song. That was actually Zhaan, doing a walking meditation through the trees. As she emerges, singing the last few notes, one can see that she's dressed in full vestments and has her palms pressed together in front of her.

The acoustics on Moya were excellent, and both Moya and Pilot used to like it when she sang. The song carried very well in the woods, too, but she aches knowing that two of her dearest friends were not there to listen.

So, there is a somewhat melancholy, up-until-recently singing Delvian at the edge of the woods. You can compliment or criticize her singing, or ask her what she's thinking about. Or whatever.

Current Mood: melancholy
Current Location: Near the Woods

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

Today (well, last night) There was an incident. So when Muldoon enters the bar he's sporting an ugly looking bruise above an eye and a very angry demeanor.

This is why there's no food today. No small comforts of home. Just a very angry man in a gas mask with a custom desert eagle spread out across a table near the door. He's cleaning each of the parts individually, trying to find some solace in taking this thing apart and putting it back together.
It works well when you don't have any bodies or anything to kill.

There is also a letter spread out in front of him that he occasionally glances at. He had to fish it out of a piece of brush when Napoli threw it away.

As far as he's concerned, it's a reason to keep going.

Current Music: Don't Fear (the Reaper) -Blue Oyster Cult

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

In a bout of being more catlike than usual, Remy was curled up in a fuzzy blanket on the rug in front of the fire, as opposed to being sprawled across the couch as he usually was.

Of course, the reason for this would be clear to anyone sitting close enough. He was roasting marshmallows over the flames with a barbeque skewer.

He'll probably share if you ask.

hippodamio

Not all Hektor's lessons come from his tutor, he has found; but today, half a month after he crept into Milliways in dead of night, he has been set one to keep him out of Phoitios' hair a while. He already knows what it is to send one man against one. Now he needs to see what it is to send many against many, and all he has to do it with is one wooden board and a leather sack with a lump of clay in it the size of his fist.

The table near the Bar (for all that he would rather sit by the fire, he fears drying the stuff out too quickly) will be more than a little grubby very soon. There is a lot of pinching and shaping to do.

call-me-shane.livejournal.com

A heavy winter full of snow and ice tends to discourage heavy use, and when the snow melts, the thick, sopping mud is an equally strong deterrent. Now, however, the ground has firmed up enough that there is a slim, watchful man forcing his horse, a quarterhorse dun gelding that has lost some condition during his long break, to exercise. He means to lunge the lot of them that are handleable, especially the stallions, if only to cut down on the sheer weight of equine testiness that has been building up over the long winter.

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

[OOM: Knox thinks about things, just a little]

faithful-slayer.livejournal.com

There is a Faith in the bar, for the last time.

She's sitting at a table with coffee and a steak, looking less-than-thrilled.

She loves this place. She doesn't want to say goodbye.

It's a shame she doesn't have a choice.

mollyprewett.livejournal.com

[[OOM: Molly and Cain are urged to get moving , and are drawn toward the ancient site where the Oracle of Delphi and the Temple of Apollo once stood. Once there, they are greeted by an unexpected sight. Inside the temple, they encounter more strangeness as Cain and Molly are separated, then brought back together with new clues and strange riddles to share. There is a much needed side trip to one of Cain’s vaults, and the adventure seemingly comes to an end…]]

hellobugbite

[Outside of Milliways, there are things that need doing]

The door into Milliways flies open with a bang and a sudden burst of cursing.

Then slams shut.

Then opens again, accompanied by a snarl.

"I have to use the 'fresher."

will_scarlett

Will spends the night in the darkness of the woods, praying and barely sleeping in the crook of an oak tree. When the sun rises and the day moves on, he's not fully aware of time, his body is sore and his mind is afraid and lost. He's fallen into a story of darkness and doesn't know how to lift the curse against him.

The prayers he whispers don't sound right and he knows he should eat, but a forest is home no matter where it is. So he hides, letting the world pass by as he asks for judgement and understanding of how to be whole again.

Current Location: in the woods

ahogarse.livejournal.com

Halfway to invisible and clutching at the branches of a sapling, the ghostly figure is back skirting the edge of the trees, walking back and forth as he quietly explores the forest floor. There are all sorts of interesting things, which is why the shady thing stops occasionally to peer underneath rocks and the like.

There are all sorts of things. Pill bugs and worms and little leggy things that scuttle.

were-needed.livejournal.com

There is the sound of gunshots outside.

Moments later, John Steed dives into the bar, rolls, and hurriedly closes the door, standing against the wall with his own gun out just in case he's followed.

When nothing happens, he puts the gun away and heads over to the bar.

"Whiskey on ice and a hammer please." he says, removing his hat. When the hammer appears, he proceeds to carefully straighten out the bullet dent in it. Hats like that don't come cheap after all.

onehoopyprefect

[ooc: Millitimed to before Faith and Michael's exit]

Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent have seen a lot together over the years. They've been through the destruction of more than one planet (or, to be more precise, the same planet, more than once), and have traversed the length and breadth of the galaxy, from one temporal end to the other.

So, when Michael told them there would be an impeding threat to Antar, they were quick to offer their support and help. Even though it means being sealed away from Milliways. But, what did that matter to them, in the final analysis? Everyone they love is already on Antar, and the world isn't far from a major galactic space lane they could hitch onto if necessary.

Nevertheless, there's a somberness in leavings, so the two have come here one last time to share a pot of tea, look out across the destruction of the cosmos, and bid farewells to those they'd come to consider friends.

[ooc: Last entrance posts for these two characters. Slowtime is available for anyone who wants.]

fighting_mad

[OOC: Millitimed to last night, in the cells, Plourr talks bets and war with Makita, and Rial is less than thrilled about the entire situation.]

robbie-ross.livejournal.com

[OOM: Robbie goes to Confession.]

dreamer_fray

Harth is sitting on the floor again today, against the wall by the observation window, and glaring across at the door that leads out to the lake.

Ruttin' sunlight.

He is also drinking from a mug of blood with a vehemence that begs the question of what the poor crockery ever did to him.

Bad mood?

Oh yeah.

Approaching may be done entirely at your own risk.

captainryan.livejournal.com

Ryan been subdued ever since he ran into the older Wesker. Not that it's easy to tell. This is Ryan, after all. He isn't one to advertise his emotions. He settles into a booth with a rather large meal (including meat, thanks ever so) and a cup of tea. He isn't really in the mood for company, but since when does that stop folks from saying hi?

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

Having got last night out of his system, Jack Frost is curled in a seat in the bar firmly refusing to get into trouble.

There's been enough of that recently.

He's looking for company, hopefully.

velocitygirl

[In the Cells: Inyri gets a visitor in the form of Shalla Nelprin and Inyri actually talks to her for once, using real words.

A decision is made about Zekka Thyne's fate and a friendship is being patched. :)?]

fighting_mad

Sharpe let Plourr out of the cells earlier, and on her way through the bar, she ran into an old friend. Even former squadmates, though, couldn't keep her from the promise of a shower, and she eventually went home. She finished the audience that had been interrupted yesterday by Milliways appearing, she cleaned up, she grabbed a bite to eat -- and she went to a scheduled doctor's appointment.

The last is the reason she's looking a little shellshocked, sitting with a datapad open on the table in front of her. The quality of the images that she occasionally flips through is higher than the standard for contemporary Earth technology, and she can look at them three-dimensionally or make them move, if she'd rather, but they are black and white and gray, and immediately recognizable.

She'd balked at first when the doc insisted on a scan; why now? she'd wanted to know. But the second that the phrase 'small chance of miscarriage' was spoken, she shut up, even as the other woman assured the two of them that things were really most likely fine.

Plourr has the proof of that in front of her right now.

That is a hand. That is a really tiny hand.

It's attached to a really tiny body, but she is taking this one small step at a time.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

Michael is in the bar, somewhere, and most of his goodbyes are taking place here (threads still ongoing).

Come find him in either place.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Spoon and assorted canines enter the bar with the usual collection of barking, whining, moving around, and such. Where such generally means lighting a fag. You know how it is. He and the dogs make their way toward the Bar in search of hot tea, dog biscuits, and possibly fruit.

Lately he's been craving fruit.

othercaptjack

Look! A Jack!

In his natural habitat, which is on a barstool, wearing improbably tight pants, drinking a martini and grinning.

Life is fun.

Also, this is his fifth martini.

gentleprince.livejournal.com

It's late. The bar is quiet, but that's how he's preferred it of late. More and more a hermit. More and more going through the motions instead of living. A silent guard, a watchful pair of eyes, but not a man.

Not that he has noticed, or would complain if he did. But it's become harder to breathe here. His eyes are almost like polished stone instead of human eyes as he descends the stairs and looks out over the mostly-empty tables.

And sees a door.

A door where no door has been in almost a year and a half.

Suddenly those eyes come alive again, a shining brilliance that radiates out from him.

Home.

Home, where a woman waits who will be his wife. Home, where a stretch of green forest spreads piney arms to embrace the moon over the mountains -- his princedom. Home, his free, beloved Gondor, his King, a world somehow more immense, more joyful and sorrowful and majestic than all the worlds there are. Home always is.

Home.

Yet this place has become his home of sorts in the past many months, and he has friends and obligations, so he does not go to the door, trusting that it will remain. Instead, he turns back up the stairs.

There are preparations to be made.

( ooc )

command_dot_com

Today's been a good day for this Command.Com. Nothing has gone wrong, and amazingly enough a certain pair of Mookbots have made themselves scarce enough for her to actually enjoy the afternoon. Granted her idea of enjoyment is finishing up paperwork.

Even the door to the Bar made her a little happy, she had been heading to the Diner to get some take out for dinner with Enzo anyways. So there's a green lady at the Bar in a pretty good mood, enjoying a Java Lite and a small bowl of widgets. Come forth and bother.

Current Mood: accomplished

simon_doctor

Out of Milliways, on a moon called Three Hills:

After a night spent in Jefferson with the Fryes, Simon and Kaylee have an early morning's shuttle ride to bring the mobile clinic to a little settlement called Sumner.

And a chance encounter there sends them on a side trip to Vidalia.

Hilarity, as they say, ensues. Rated D for Dialect and F for Family.

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com

[ooc: posted now because this mun has to sleep and wanted to get it done. all farewell threads for both characters to be ongoing until they're finished.]

In the end, this is what it comes to. A man and a woman in their thirties, a blue-skinned brother and sister, standing in front of the door.

They've both gained a lot through their time in the bar, things they had little or no hope of finding before they came there.

Families. Safety. A second chance at his destiny, and a means of escaping hers. New lives. But the thing about new lives is that sooner or later, you have to concentrate on living them, and other things, like the bar at the end of the universe, come to take a back seat. Neither of them has been as regular a patron lately as they once were, and now the time's come for their visits to the bar to end altogether. Sometimes choices have to be made, and sometimes they bring sacrifices with them... and sometimes the choice isn't even a choice at all.

These two know it. But it's okay, really. It may not be heaven they're going back to, but it's a pretty damn good place for all of that. They'll be happy, with his wife and her husband and the rest of their extended family. Their kids will grow up, and do things just as great as their parents have and will. The thing they're about to do, accepting the loss of the bar... that's what's going to keep it all safe.

And isn't that all you need to know, really? It's good enough for them.

But that's for the future. What's now is Michael and Faith, General Rath L'Dio and Queen Fainothi, turning for one last look at the bar and whichever of their friends are in the main room.

They smile as they take it in, for a moment longer. And then the door closes behind them.

It won't open on Antar again.

mr-ryan-wolfe.livejournal.com

Ryan walks in as he gets to a table slumping down in a chair running his hands over his hair closing his eyes to collect his thoughts. leans his head back slowly blowing out a breath of air

seeks-sixfinger.livejournal.com

You know what there's been a low occurance of in the bar lately?

Spanish sword-wielding revenge-seekers-turned-pirates.

Fortunately, this recent lack is currently being remedied somewhat.

Arr?

fire-admiral.livejournal.com

So, this is how it is: he's trapped in an odd sort of exile, in an unfamiliar place un-connected to anything else. His people have declared him dead, and the only other people from his world that he's seen are a dead Air Nomad and Ozai's wretched brat.

This is also how it is: these people have powers and abilities that may or may not be anything at all like the Bending he knows. Some of them show a lot of promise, at least among the ones he's met. Some of what they know, for all he knows, might be learned.

Zhao's not a patient man, not where things touch his own ambition and pride- but he's willing to pursue a lead like nobody's business, if he thinks it'll do him good. There was a certain library, for example, which was amazingly useful. Didn't work out quite the way he'd hoped, but that was a minor setback at best... He'd just have to find out what was worth learning here, and just who was worth learning from, wouldn't he? Even if that meant starting over from the very beginning. It'd be worth it, once it paid off.

All right, then. Time to find out just what this place needed if he was going to get any results out of it.

velocitygirl

Inyri went upstairs immediately after she got out of jail (after she made a face at Zekka as she walked out, too), and took a shower. She took all the spice that had been stored in her room and threw it in the trash and took the trash out. She pulled her hair up, crushed cigarettes under her boot and walked back downstairs.

She stared at Bar for a full five minutes before working up the courage and asking to have a pen and some paper, where she wrote a note, asking for it to be delivered to Plourr Ilo.

Then she stares at Bar again, trying to figure out what she can eat with her busted lips.

So far the answer is...water.

anotherlifebro.livejournal.com

This isn't the jungle or the beach, and Desmond lets out a frustated noise and almost turns right back around: he's impatient to be getting on.

But he supposes it's a decent place to kill a couple hours. He won't get any more sleep tonight, and maybe something that isn't Dharma canned soup will do him some good.

So he's a little fidgety as he sits at the Bar, real chips (from home) and a glass of water in front of him. But he's here.