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[kayip.livejournal.com]

[OOM: July 12, 2012 - Two days, and there was nothing.]

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[longlonghair]

Rapunzel is sitting outside at her easel, again, but strangely enough, is not painting the scenery in front of her. Instead, it is a somewhat strange picture of the top of a forest, with mountains in the distance: The view from her tower from so long ago.

She is cheerful enough, though, and singing softly while she mixes varying shades of green. Feel free to bother!

[[ooc: Sporadic replies and slowtime probable.]]

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[deathtowheaties.livejournal.com]

Cereal wandered in, chuckling. "Well, I guess I'll find some video games to play here."

But first, a bowl of Cheetos and a Jolt. He sat at a table and ate, watching Tank Girl on his computer. Come watch it with him!

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[azure-mercy.livejournal.com]

Today isn't such a good day. Not because of any particular event, really - unless you count one-month milestones as an event. That's how long Zhaan has been here. Though she feels, on alternate days, either like she has been here for much longer, or as if she has very recently arrived.

She misses Moya. She misses Pilot and Stark and D'Argo and Chiana and even Rygel. John and Aeryn are here, true, but it's not the same. Especially since she knows that John is fated to die, and Aeryn will barely speak to her. Aeryn accused Zhaan of abandoning the others, her family. Today, Zhaan's inclined to think that Aeryn may have been right.

Even keeping herself busy, as she's been doing, won't stave off the feelings that seem to be eating her from the inside out.

So Zhaan's not going about her gardening with the cheerful air that she normally does. There is no singing and not even a hint of a smile. She does the watering and weeding with a distracted air, as if her mind is somewhere a long way away.

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[notjustatoaster.livejournal.com]

It's raining heavily but that isn't bothering the slim Asian girl who's doing situps in the mud. Her green combats and black vest cling to her skin as she moves. Bruises and cuts are still clearly visible on her face, a souvenier of her time back home.

Sharons head has been spinning with questions about what happened back home and she figured the best way to stop it was to sweat it out of her system.

Maybe some should tell her it's not a good idea to exercise in the rain.

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[renegade-enzo.livejournal.com]

Here's a face that hasn't been in the bar that much lately.

Matrix is sitting in a booth, his feet kicked up on the table. On the table itself, the components to his weapon, Gun (which looks like a cross between a massive pistol and an SMG) are layed out as the large green sprite checks each piece over and starts cleaning them.

He seems...oddly pleasant.

Well, relatively speaking, of course. By pleasant, the narration means He isn't scowling and he isn't drinking enough liquor to kill an elephant.

To anyone who knows him, this might seem a bit out of the ordinary. To people who don't know him, well...he doesn't look like he'll bite you if you try talking to him.

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[do-not-falter.livejournal.com]

Patrons might be surprised to find that curled up next to the fireplace sleeps a rather strange looking gray wolf.

The wolf in question has odd white markings in its fur, and has an iron manacle clamped onto its front left paw.

He looks rather comfortable where he is, but he wouldn't mind an interruption.

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[waylostandfound.livejournal.com]

Nathan thought he knew of the difficult decisions that were facing him, but most of the pieces hadn't fallen into place just yet. It wasn't yet that time. He knew about his brother's vision, but not about some of the effects and impact of it. He knew about the daughter he thought was gone, but they hadn't yet met.

Right now, he was allowing his decision to be no more difficult than what he wanted to have for dinner tonight. He wouldn't mind the company.

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[supaahiro]

Hiro was down in the bar again. He was, sadly, rather preoccupied with a certain brand of woe here. But that didn't mean he wasn't trying to figure out a way to do something about it.

But then there was the Conversation; a soft cheek against Bar's (clean) top, and whispers. Whispers and promises and cajoling. Bar obliged his request. First were the stacks of paper in a myriad of colors. And then were was the dolly to get it outside. A small backpack was provided. A number of bags, and a small counter that sat steadily at 0 and seemed to have no ticker to make it count...

So he went outside, not far from the lake, settled down with his paper, large number of bags, and started to fold. There's a latern, and a sleeping bag, and a small radio (playing Utada Hikaru right this second).

This... is going to take a while, but he's not going back into bar until it's done. Not even for dinner, not even for lunch, not for anything.

He has a mission. A new one. One crane. Two cranes. Three cranes. Four...

[NO NEW TAGS TONIGHT THANKS <3333

AND WE HAVE ENTERED SLOWTIME NOW. THANK YOU ALL!]

(no subject)

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

How exactly do you deal with a friend returning back to Milliways after his death?

Most anyone else would have gone to the bar, and (understandably) gotten drunk.

That option really is not one for Wellard. Or, he has not let himself consider it. So far, there has been ship-work in the day (either repairs or building) to keep himself busy enough so that he does not dwell on it-

In the evening, however? He will just be sitting here and brooding staring at a cup of tea.

bartending

[wizard_dresden]

Okay, so the mun has functional wireless modem thingy again - no, the lack of functionality of it was NOT my fault this time and it appears to be time for this happy hour drinking thingy again too.

"What should our specials be tonight, Bob."

"Frog water and Moose juice."

Bob is so helpful. "I'm thinking not." Though I am certain he's been into the Dr. Seuss again.

Let's see:


Specials
Water
Beer


"Oh, that's good, Harry, considering water's already free."

I arch an eyebrow at him. Yes, I am aware, doesn't mean it can't be the special. "Who's doing this gig, me or you?"

"We both are, Harry."

"Who has the corporeal form with which to actually serve the drinks?"

"Dammit."

Human - 1 Air Spirit - 0

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[and-far-away.livejournal.com]

Sharpe was here, yesterday.

He said goodbye to his brother, and he watched the man walk through the door for the last time. Then he took his children home, and he got back to work.

He's back now, with the bottle of Scotch he bought for Matt, having arranged for Marie to look after the kids for a while. Drinking to his brother, and to his dead, and to departures.

Company would be welcome.

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[hippodamio]

For all that he has a well-blacked eye and a split lip, the boy in kidskin breeches and tunic is in a fair humor indeed. When he sees that he has come into the Bar instead of the courtyard, he merely smiles and bows respectfully to the Bar. "Please," he says, "if you have something that might take down this swelling a bit, I would be very grateful, and bring you some extra offering next time."

Ice is not a thing that even kings' sons easily come by, in Hektor's time; the little sackful of it is met with wide eyes and an exclamation of surprise. He bows several times as he backs away from the Bar, at last taking to one of the chairs to tentatively hold the precious stuff to his bruises.

Barmaid on Duty!

[maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com]

Elaine comes downstairs, this time in what she would consider 'normal' clothing: long gown with the sleeves pinned up so as not to get in the way, and an apron. There's a kerchief sort of thing covering her hair so that's out of the way too.

She has never minded modern clothing, but sometimes one just wants something familiar.

How may she serve you?

(no subject)

[will_scarlett]

Will has a hangover and its a little better than it was when he woke up.

A seat by the fire is good for recovering, there is weak tea and some kind of healthy dinner from Bar as he tries to not move his head too much. He's never drinking with Hellboy, again, ever.

Come distract him from the pain.

(no subject)

[watchmakers_son]

( Spoilers for Heroes 1x16, ''Unexpected'' )

Sylar opens the door and doesn't just flinch, but recoils backward with a hoarse noise of pain as he doubles over, clutching the sides of his head. It's a long moment before he can straighten, breathing heavily, face ashen; longer still before he can stumble inside and head straight for Bar.

"Aspirin," he mutters. "Or ibuprofen. Anything stronger if you have it."

A bottle of Excedrin materializes. Sylar wastes no time in snatching up the pills before he makes his way to the lake door, clumsily wrenching it open to move outside toward the shoreline. Well before he makes it to a rock half-hidden in the shade of the Black Pearl, he's working to pry off the bottle lid; the rattling as the pills shift around cracks against his eardrums like point-blank gunshots.

Even so, it's marginally easier to think out here than it is inside.

(no subject)

[gorgonfondness]

Content Guildmaster in a bar, relaxing by the fireplace and watching her rememberizer.

One memory in particular.

If you come and ask, she may show you some of her other memories.

(no subject)

[mutinyandmurder]

A break is just fine.

But several days has turned into a week or more, and Charlotte is starting to feel penned in. She hasn't been away from the scent of the ocean for this long in more than a year. The food is good, the company interesting. But still.

Being idle has never been her strong suit.

So, Charlotte is sitting in a plush armchair close to the fireplace, doing some much needed mending on the clothes she first entered the bar in. She glances up at where the door was, now and then. Just in case.