milliways_bar | Apr. 30th, 2007

Apr. 30th, 2007

callitavesper.livejournal.com

[ Saturday morning in flat 007: Communication. Warning for sexual content at the beginning of the thread. Rated TWSTBTAA! for "they were supposed to be talking about aliens!" ]

blue-star-badge.livejournal.com

There was, as there often is, a young man in the bar. Just at the moment he was perched at the end of the bar, scribbling out calculations, once again trying to pin down the block-transfer computations, brow creased in concentration, following the calculation out.

Apparently this took a lot of tiny cramped scribbling across a notepad, using numbers and mathematical symbols that likely didn't actually exist.

Go poke him before his brain starts to leak out his ears or something.

forgottenfeline

Kyo is not in bar again. He is, however, out by the lake, practicing his katas. For once, he looks peaceful.

He's been at it for a couple hours, and doesn't show any signs of stopping.

gone_byebye

"Wngh," Ray says to no one in particular as he lugs himself back into Milliways from what looks like Manhattan. The phrase 'look what the cat dragged in' almost certainly doesn't apply here, if only because cats are generally just a little too fastidious to bother themselves with anyone as slimy-looking as he is.

No, literally. Like, mucilage kind of slimy.

It's been a long day. But hey! At least it probably wasn't South Dakota!

shikkari.livejournal.com

Scotland in general is not known for its cherry trees, so there aren't many out back at Milliways. However, 'not many' isn't the same thing as 'none,' and careful inspection will reveal a handful of cherry trees out on the shore of the lake which are just starting to shed their blossoms. When Osaka discovered this, she decided to hold her own little cherry blossom viewing party. She's got a picnic cloth, a bento lunch, and a can of orange juice, which she sips as she watches the petals cascade down onto the grass and the water.

Anyone care to join her?

azure-mercy.livejournal.com

Having spent most of the morning working in her garden plot, and later in her section of the greenhouse, Zhaan is now practicing by the lakeside. What she's practicing looks a lot like the old martial form of Tai Chi, with bits of Wing Chun and Southern Preying Mantis in the mix. Whatever sort of martial art it is, Zhaan seems to be very good at it, although she would say that her skill level is merely somewhat better than average.

If anyone's in the mood for a bit of sparring, she might be up for it.

Current Mood: energetic

dust-to-order.livejournal.com

Sooraya is at the Bar. She's not ordering a meal, this time, but asks for something else. Bar provides her with writing materials and two books; dictionaries and basic grammar for Arabic, and for Spanish, both phonetic and written forms.

She's been trying not to ask for anything she doesn't truly need. Yet it seems she may be here for longer than days or a week, and she needs to keep up with her own studies and training. There's also the offer she made Muldoon.

So after some thought, she also asks for a few of the texts that she'd had at home. This turns out not to be a problem either. She takes the materials, and heads for a nearby booth.

organicmeatbag.livejournal.com

Revan may have stopped being a Jedi long ago, but he continues to carry a lightsaber. It serves as both a token reminder of all that had happened and as the weapon it is. And it has been his one means of survival for many months at a time in the past five years. All of which is why he seems to handle it with delicacy as he places it atop the bar.

He orders some cloths and other cleaning materials, along with a glass of milk, before he sets to work on deactivating the power cell. He has not had the chance to clean the thing in many months, the handle stained and muddied, and now that he has the time, the lightsaber deserves a proper cleaning.

Revan rolls up his sleeves, a scar along his left forearm revealed, as the cleaning materials and the milk that he ordered appear on the counter. He takes a sip of milk and places one of the cloths beneath the lightsaber before he gets to work on scrubbing at the stains and mud.

alorn-bear.livejournal.com

Belar's not really known for being a god who's fond of warm weather. That's what happens when you and your people spend a few millennia trying to get to your worst enemies by any means practical and the most practical means is 'head north and see if the icecap'll hold'. But, you know, he's an adaptable kind of guy, all things considered. Plus, he's been itching to work with an ocean again, and that's kinda hard to do when you're adopted as the god of a tribe of land-bound Mongols. Nothing against the Dorbed, it's just they're landlocked, that's all.

He's gonna be sitting out by the lake, cross-legged, examining the water and periodically casting this illusion or that in order to see just what he'd have to do to get surf-worthy waves out of the lake. They're very good illusions, but they're just that- illusions.

ahogarse.livejournal.com

If you think you notice something new out back, maybe you do. Certainly, the clothes hanger (Mobile!) wasn't there yesterday, the one with all the bits and bobs attached by blue ribbon, hanging a few feet up one of the trees. The shining baubles catch the light, twinkling merrily as some invisible hand seems to swing them.

Isn't it beautiful? Santi certainly thinks so. He's still playing with it, listening to the clink of the quartz against the glass.

eiattu_pride

It's been a while, maybe, and that's why Rial's face lights up when the door to his quarters opens onto the bar instead. After all, he's got nothing better to do, and the level of chaos seems to be fairly low.

...his wife isn't a man and/or a gerbil, anyway, and that's good enough for him.

So he flops down into a booth and flags down a waitrat orders a plate of cookies, putting his feet up on the table and closing his eyes, smiling in satisfaction. Nothing to do, no one to talk to, no worries. Just him, peace, quiet, and a plate of cookies.

Heaven.

thirdbetrayer.livejournal.com

Time passes slowly, out of the bar. So maybe it's only been a few days since the April Fool's switch when a certain smiling captain steps into the bar.

His facial expression doesn't change, as such (when does it ever) but one eyebrow goes up, thoughtfully, and he brings a hand to his side as if to check that his sword is still there. It is, of course, and he takes another step forward, as if waiting for something to happen.

...when nothing does, he relaxes and crosses to the bar, ordering a cup of tea and settling to down to watch the bar at large.

notjustnarrator.livejournal.com

After a rather unfortunate occurance, Nick is back to his normal human self and lounging outside near the lake.

While he is, for the most part, very relaxed, he is keeping an eye out for that mischievous little fairy (whom he has a few very choice words for).

All grudges aside, he's in a fairly good mood and has a big glass of iced tea on hand, and it's a gorgeous day out and he would love some company.

And potential company, fear not! He won't mention Blodwen unless asked. The mun promises!

awesome_lilly

Earlier today Lilly paid a visit to her brother through the Dreaming, to fill him in on the news of her recent afterlife changes. She was also going to ask him for advice on child-rearing (aka, how soon is soon enough for boarding school?) but she got tired of waiting for him to stop laughing after about an hour or so.

Now Lilly's down in the bar, seated at a table with the babies in the those bouncy seats Mike found for them. Girlbaby is sleeping. Boybaby is just sorta there. Lilly is watching them both warily. It almost looks as if she's waiting for them to explode.

[OOC: not plot-locked but please ping 'daemmygee' before tagging.]

action-antihero.livejournal.com

He'd slept like the dead for quite a few hours after he and Chris finally went up to bed the night before, but the nightmares eventually caught up with him, waking him suddenly. For a moment he hadn't remembered where he was, and then he'd rolled over, the pain in his shoulders reminding him of everything that had happened the previous day.

It's not long after he wakes that he's downstairs, Coco following at his heels as he takes a quick trip out the door. The condo still looks like a bomb hit it, but at least it hasn't been long since he and Chris had come in, by their world's standards: it's only been a couple hours, and there aren't urgent messages from CTU.

Heading back into the bar, Jack drags himself over to the bar and gets a cup of coffee and some aspirin. He'd prefer something alcoholic at the moment, but this is technically breakfast.

However, along with his order (and Bar's addition of some toast) he gets two notes which certainly help wake him up. Looking around, he can't spot any of the people he'd like to talk to at the moment, but he's moved to a table with a good view of the bar, just in case.

cf1.livejournal.com

[[ OOM: Best of a Bad Lot, Part One: "And on the First Day..." ]]

(Cait's life goes from 'not good' to much, much worse. In the belly of the beast, strangers must learn to work together.)

captainryan.livejournal.com

Captain Ryan spent last night in the woods. This turned out to be a Bad Idea. He’s down by the lake without a shirt now, muttering under his breath and it’s quite clear as to why. As Wells so eloquently put it once, it looks like he took on Jack the Ripper and came last.

In addition to the four dark long scars on his chest and the newer fading ones on his right forearm, there are fresh sets of what looks like claw marks still oozing blood. A set across his chest neatly slices the old scars into pieces, another lays a path across the lower part of the right side of his face, and a few along his back and sides, where it looks like whatever it was tried to grab and hold on, shine red and wet. Both arms have gashes as well, and it looks like the thing tried to take a chunk out of his left shoulder. It’s a small comfort that at least everything is healing. You can’t quite see it, but every time you look, the wounds are a little smaller.

Could someone please tell him why sleeping in the woods resulted in a physical manifestation of the wounds he received in a dream?

collects_ears

Bartender.

Themed drinks.

Here to serve you?

Most definitely.

"Tonight's drinks are: Zambeer, Zenmeister, Zipper and Zoo Station."

Have at.

"What'll it be?"

cf1.livejournal.com

[[ Best of a Bad Lot Part Two: "Never be Divided" ]]

(Cait and her new friends are subjected to humiliation, degradation and torture; Cait wonders why. Then a line is crossed, an opportunity arises, and they take it. The five quasi-strangers fight for their freedom, and for now, they get it.)

The door swings open, letting in a flash of light, then a girl in her late teens. Redhead, very tall, very fit, but her expression is of total surprise. She has a few bruises, and her clothing shows she has been in a fight or rolled down a rough hillside.

Behind her, the door closes and vanishes silently, which means she is not going anywhere anytime soon.

Caitlin Fairchild, back to Milliways, first time in Milliways, looks around for her new friends. "Bobby? Roxy? Eddie? Sarah?"

If she is alone, she hopes they escaped to somewhere safe.

hippodamio

When Hektor pushes the door open, it is apparent he hadn't meant to come here; he's dressed for riding, and beyond him lies a courtyard turned out for the Palace horses. Still, best not to offend the goddess when she calls on you; he bows to the Bar, fist on brow, and closes the door behind him. Perhaps there will be someone with the horses outside, or something indoors worth seeing.

dr_temperance

There's a bright glow coming from a table in Milliways. Dr. Temperance Brennan has managed to smuggle in a high powered light/magnification glass combo and is happily studying some unusual kerf marks on a human ulna.

She's not entirely sure what was used to seperate this particular man's lower arms from his body, but I wasn't any of the usual suspects.

Botherable.

singlesoledjest.livejournal.com

Mercutio is peeling an apple with his sharpest knife, concentrating very hard on getting the peel to come off in one single spiral. His chair is tilted back at a very precarious angle, his feet are propped on the table, and he looks like he could fall at any moment.

Living life on the edge, clearly.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Harry's the one the telegram was addressed to. There was nothing at all in the wording about his wife being included in the meeting. Oh, he'll tell her everything that happened as soon as it's over- but that'll be then. She's just stepping out of the house for a bit, that's all. Call it courtesy, or possibly just finding a space to take a breather without worrying about yet another government visit.

... damn it, life was easier when Harry was just plain getting shot at.

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

There are Americans on the other side of that door. Americans. There hasn't been anything in the sky for twenty years, and the shipping lanes've been closed nearly as long. The roads of Britain haven't been run in five years, not that Quinn knows of, and there hasn't even been word out of the other fortresses of the North- but there are Americans out there, and they all have guns and very little to lose.

You'll understand, we hope, if Quinn is more than a little reluctant to open that door and go home.

called_lioness

Lucy was throwing her dagger earlier, now that it's warmer and it's hard not to be outside. (Corella objected when Lucy left and didn't spend all her free time grooming or feeding her, but some things horses must endure.)

When she comes in, it's to head towards a couch and settle on it. The minute tea's ordered from a rat she starts to undo her hair.

If you spend that much time outside, even in spring, and especially when you couldn't help but just stretch out in the grass and watch the sky for a bit, combing it out a bit with your hands can be a good thing.

[ooc: Tag at any point outside or inside, as you like.]

keyblade-girl.livejournal.com

It’s evening and Kairi can’t concentrate on her homework. Her thoughts keep drifting away from fractions and equations and instead to a smiling boy with blue eyes.

She looks at the paper in front of her one last time before, pushing back from her desk in frustration. A walk is what she needs – she decides, after a moment - the cool night air will clear her head. She slips a long sleeved shirt over her sundress, for nights on the island can still be chilly this time of year, locates her sandals from the foot of her bed and makes her way to the door.

She pauses at the door, unsure if it will open to the sand and the smells and sound of the ocean – or if it will open somewhere else, far, far away.

“I’m going out,” she calls over her shoulder – as she opens the door.

Because, one way or the other she is.

She steps through, and finds herself back in the bar.

Her immediate elation of her return is dulled slightly, by the nearly instantaneous realization that Riku is not there. Still, she’s here – she ought to make the best of it.

[[ooc: This thread is locked for plot! Thanks very much. ^_^]]

neurotic-barbie.livejournal.com

Elliot hasn't been back to the mysterious bar-inside-a-patient's-room for a long time because...well, it was a whole bar inside a patient's room and that just Wasn't Right, was it?

She's made all sorts of excuses to her co-workers for not going into that particular room, including an outbreak of deadly carpet mold.

Unfortunately, Dr. Cox had eventually figured out that there wasn't any carpet in that room, and sent her into it to deal with a patient in a fit of angry, ranty cruelty. It had actually taken him longer to tell her to go in there than it had to actually, well...go in there.

So here she is, standing with chart in hand and looking like she really needs a drink.

Good thing it's a bar, then. She goes and sits down, orders the strongest drink in the house, puts her chart on the counter and her head in her hands.

Current Mood: blah

stilljustandrew

*The front door opens, and in comes Andrew. He glances around the room, and apparently doesn't see whoever it is he was looking for.*

*A quiet word to Bar later, he's sitting at a corner table with an oversized mug of hot cocoa with little marshmallows floating in it.*

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Universes divide, for now. Warnings for slight and implied violence.]

Guppy enters, gasping, through the door, which he slams behind him. He's been running, hard, so hard that he just sits right there on the floor and grabs every bit of air he can.

[ooc: Locked to Sam and Atton please.]

not-british.livejournal.com

There is nothing particularly special about this entrance post.

Just your regular run-of-the-mill Australian doctor sitting at a table somewhere in the room, having a coffee, thinking to himself. Overall, he's looking like he's had a relatively pleasant day.

His labcoat is hanging over the side of the chair across from him.

Come and approach him if you wish!

spooky-shrink.livejournal.com

[OOM: Malcolm's night terrors have lessened, much to his relief. But while the nightmares may have gone away, his dreams may have problems of their own.]