milliways_bar | May. 22nd, 2007

May. 22nd, 2007

gotapenny.livejournal.com

So George has been forced to remain calm and not the fidgety person that he generally is. Loud, always doing something- all that tossed out the window with promising to behave. Well that can only last so long with the radioman which is why he's shuffled out of the infimary again with the most determined look upon his face.

To find a knife and cut himself out of the cast Zhaan had put on him. He feels much better, even if his ribs aren't compleatly healed, but the wraping around his chest was going to be the death of him. It itched like crazy and there was nothing he could do about it!

"Bar..sweety...please. Something anything sharp to cut this thing off." And nothing appears almost as if Bar liked seeing the man suffer.

"Please?"

Anyone else want to give the man a hand?

iambetadraconis

( Cut for space. )

He's outside, sword in hand with knife and dagger at his belt.

Slicing away at invisible people in an amatuerish manner.

And angry. But not at Will for the sparring match. No.

More like, at himself for being such a coward that night the Longbottoms were tortured.

Anybody who approaches should take note he didn't charm the blades dull tonight.

Current Mood: aggravated

gonna_live

[On May 11, the crew of Serenity plus one took a field trip, and everything went smooth.

This meaning that nobody got shot, of course.

Some threads are still slowtimed.]

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raz has been around for a few days now, and she's starting to get the hang of the bar. So she's wandering around inside the building, carrying a jug of water larger than her head, from which she occasionally takes a swig. What? A girl needs to stay hydrated.

Feel free to stop her as she walks past. She's not in any particular hurry and she will be more than delighted to talk to you (especially if you are human and attractive and most especially if you are also male).

lady_moon

[OOM: Millitimed to Sunday morning -- Moon takes Draco to the world of the tarot cards where she introduces him to Sorrow. Sorrow talks to Draco about what the wizard wants, and gives him the help he desperately needed. It's drastic, and it's devastating, but it forces Draco onto a new path.]

lichvell-r.livejournal.com

Out by the lake, Ravin is watching the sky.

Yeah, just that, a chalk-pale girl in black clothes, laying on the grass under the shade of a tree and watching the clouds drift above.

...

Because she feels like being idle, that's why.

poisonwine

Belle is in Bar, humming happily. She's wearing a shirt that says 'Huge Tracts of Land' (courtesy of the Bar) and a skirt, also from the Bar.

Add a shit eating grin to the equation, and you have the idea.

At the moment she's staring out the observation window, but in a second she'll go back to what she's doing, which is planning, almost plotting.

Come and say hi!

doh-nutlover.livejournal.com

There's a bald, fat man asleep at one of the booths. As he snores loudly a large glob of drool rolls out the side of his mouth.

A waitrat carying a strong coffee and a doughnut moves towards him and begins nudging his leg.

"Mmmm.... I'M AWAKE, I WASN'T SLEEPING...." He jolts awake almost spilling the coffe the waitrat is carrying.

"Oh, I'm still here." he takes the coffee and the doughnut and sends the waitrat on it's way.

cf1.livejournal.com

Morning. Another Morning at the End of the Universe.

And as previous mornings, Cait is up early, outside, training. If she is to help her friends, she needs to learn, and fast. But after a couple hours of shadow-fighting and exercise, she will take a break, maybe even a dip into the lake to cool down.

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

Garion man, Garion man
Doing the things that a Garion can
Where is he sitting? It's important.
Garion man.

Is he a 'tender or is he a king?
Though this is a song, don't ask him to sing.
He can do lots of stuff, but not that kind of thing.
Why not say hi... to Garion man?

He's at the bar, incidentally. Since, you know, it's important.

notjustatoaster.livejournal.com

Sharon has decided to try something new so she asked Bar what she should do and received a book, some wood and a little pocket knife.

Hence the reason there is a girl sitting in a booth surrounded by lots of wood chips and some weird looking wooden carvings.

She squints at the book turning it this way and that way then comparing it to her wooden figure.

"Oh Frak!" It doesn't seem to be going as well as planned.

gone_byebye

[OOM: Scenes from the Road. Agent Frankel's reading of Walter Peck's diary takes a turn for the distinctly more agitated.]

"I dever," says Ray, walking in the door with bits of pinkish-white stuff clinging to nearly every surface he's got, "wadt to see eddyfig to do wit idsulatiod EBER AGED. Bar, I'b godda deed somfing to ged dis stubf out of by dose. . ."

There ensues much blowing of the nose and muttering vile things about the ThermaSpritz corporation.

"Okay, great," Ray says to Bar, handing a visibly pinkish hanky back. "Sorry about that, Bar. Uh... can I get some of the green stuff now, please?"

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

After this, Draco had spent a day sulking in his room in the House. Today, he was in the bar again. No wizarding robes in sight. The clothes looked decidedly ordinary, if neat and conservative. His shoulder length blond hair was swept back. He flopped down at the bar, looking utterly depressed. A steaming cup of tea and a plate of biscuits appeared, and a book on advanced muggles studies. He sneered at the book, shoving it away angrily. The tea was sipped moodily, the biscuits ignored.

Day 1 of Draco's muggle life

bugsandslime

Angela had warned him that the door to Milliways could crop up in odd and unexpected places. (It had been part of the Milliways 101 talk she'd given him the day Hodgins had discovered exactly where she had been literally disappearing to for the last several weeks). So he wasn't at all startled when he stepped into what he thought was the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab's break room and found the bar instead.

In fact, he'd been very pleased.

Jack Hodgins is standing at the bar with a cup of coffee looking out over Milliways and grinning widely.

"This place is just too cool."

untraitor.livejournal.com

[Therem's Journal]

It has been several days, during which time Estraven has taken some steps towards learning certain details of this place. Since no door has returned, he assumes that he is to remain here for as long as he remains. Nusuth. He cannot leave; so he shall stay.

He is down in the bar today dressed only in a pair of loose trousers. He goes barefoot and shirtless, for such is the custom in the homes of Karhide; and anyway, it's hot here. Hotter than anywhere he has ever been.

The lack of shirt, however, makes his gender only slightly easier for others to guess at. But there is still a mystery, for from the back, he would seem a woman, and even from the front, he is built like a breastless woman, or like a child, though his face is aged. He moves with a woman's quick grace, yet stands solidly despite his short stature (under 5'). Both male and female, and neither.

Today, he takes a seat at a booth with a snack of dark grain bread with fish paste, and beer.

azure-mercy.livejournal.com

A symphony of various herbal and floral scents waft from the booth next to the infirmary. Zhaan recently harvested some of the plants from her garden plot and greenhouse shelves, with the intention of putting them to good use. She's been cutting, grinding, mixing, bottling and bagging for a few arns now.

Feeling that she has prepared a sufficient quantity of concoctions, she puts up a neatly handwritten sign on the table:

For Sale

Creams, Scent Satchets, Teas and Incense

That done, she puts a mixture of dried roots and petals into a small mortar, and starts pounding it with a pestle.

Current Mood: happy

brokenjilly.livejournal.com

Thoughtful Jilly in the Bar. She's returned the Stone Drum, and is feeling pretty pleased about that.

And a little creeped out.

Returning it means that she believes, to some extent, in Christy's tales of skookan - goblins - living in the Tombs, in magic and faerie. It means she believes that the things she sees out of the corner of her eye have a more than passable chance of being true.

She's not sketching, just...thinking. And people-watching. The Bar is really fascinating.

((Slowtimes a must at 7 p.m. US Central time. Series finale of Veronica Mars.))

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Spoon has finished the beads that he was making for Moiraine. He's started work on the attic, he's dealt with the goats, and more importantly he's showered and washed the puppies.

The puppies are sulking, with treats. Spoon is not sulking, with tea. Spoon is also reading a book on yautja culture which (ironically) is easier to read than Shakespeare. Shakespeare really dropped the ball as far as instructions on how to take trophies from dead bodies go.

wizard_dresden

Right, so, you all know I live in Chicago, right? Now, while the Blackhawks didn't quite make the Stanley Cup playoffs this year, those teams what did are pushing their way through the conference finals. So, in keeping with the season:

Hockey-related Specials
Cranberry Zamboni
Stanley Steamer

And if you ask nicely, other hockey-related beverages may be distributed at the specials price.

lady_moon

[OOM: Back home, Moon and Ruin have a confrontation.]

Moon comes into the bar with her wolves at her heels.

Neither Mons or Mare look happy, but then again, neither does Moon.

When she pauses at the bar, she's given a pale green drink with little bubbles of tapioca in it. It was a lovely attempt at cheering Moon up, and she pats the bar surface gratefully, but Moon was in a Mood. She takes the drink and finds a dark booth, cramming herself in it.

Sometimes it really sucked to be part of the cycle of change for people.

the_lioness

It's Alanna's turn to watch the triplets, but she's cheating a bit, having left the boys in the flat with Myles. Thom and Jamie don't seem to mind, and Myles is always happy to dote on his grandsons. Everyone wins, except maybe Grace, who is forced to listen to one of Jonathan's missives as Alanna reads it aloud. She barely makes it through the first paragraph before falling asleep.

"I don't blame you," Alanna tells her daughter, propping her feet up on a chair. "A village by village crop report would put anyone to sleep."

Which perhaps explains the coffee mug by Alanna's side.

blue_ajah

It has been some time since she has been present in the bar.

Since returning from the Summer Country, Moiraine has kept to herself in her study upstairs. She has spent her days considering some things and adapting quietly to others as best she can. The Aes Sedai has not seen it necessary to mention any of her musings to anyone, however.

Still, she is quite well aware that if she remains withdrawn for too long there are those who will likely come seeking her; and, truth be told, she finds herself wishing for company again, as it happens.

Tonight, therefore, Moiraine glides downstairs into the bar. She collects a cup of tea from the bar -- along with a folded letter in an unfamiliar hand, which causes her to arch an eyebrow -- and then settles herself at her usual table.

florallyminded.livejournal.com

The door swings open with a creak, revealing a garden on the other side, and a man steps in. He's not looking where he's going for the first moment or two, then he looks up and stops in his tracks.

And then he sighs, and addresses the room at large, voice pitched to carry but evidently assuming that the person he's speaking to is probably in earshot.

"Dairine Callahan, what have you been told about leaving worldgates open without telling anybody? And did you have to put it in the greenhouse?"

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine is busily cleaning tables in between customers and happily bustling about.

She'd be glad to wait on anyone who needs food or assistance.

dear-of-heart.livejournal.com

It’s a very tired young woman who pushes the door open carefully with her beshoed foot, stares blankly into the bar for a few moments, and sets her stack of chalkboards on a nearby desk before entering.

Cora brushes some of the hair that’s fallen out of her bun (smudging it with the chalk dust left on her hands), politely orders a bowl of stew from a waitrat, and looks for a place to sit as the waitrat scurries off to get it.

jedi-exile.livejournal.com

[OOM: Kira, while routinely checking on her unborn child, finds something out. And wonders how the hell she missed that. The mun thinks she should start looking for matching outfits.]

gothymcgoth.livejournal.com

"Argh!" Not a cry of pain, or any thing like that, merely a pronouncment of complete and utter boredom. A person can only take so much of this place, before they just have to scream. Molly has reached her breaking point, her head buried against the bar top.

"So. freakin. boring."

creator_raven

A ragged clump of black feathers drops from the rafters to a table, landing with a solid thunk.

Moments later a skinny man straightens out his coat, propping his boots up on the table.

They are very dusty boots.

Hopefully none of the dust gets on the plate of cookies a waitrat is bringing.

Raven, sadly, is often predictable.

It is a thing.

weeper-of-blood.livejournal.com

( Sorta kinda OOM: Where Santi is stuck outside during a storm and Le Chiffre has a guilt trip. Dead kids and villains and bears, oh my! )

Some time the next day, there is a Bond villain in a bar, frowning thoughtfully and very boredly into an empty tea cup. No, he's not reading tea leaves, but he might as well be.

There's an untouched Aleister Crowley book sat beside him on the table of the booth, and every now and then, just to prove he's not just there for decoration and to make sure he's not missing out on anything interesting, the ex-banker gives a quick glance around the Bar. Distractions are entirely welcome, even if he fails to admit it.

ilcattivo.livejournal.com

(The Bad.)

The door opens on fire.

There are people in the world(s) who like fire, it must be said; pyromaniacs and pyrokineticist and mad bombers. There's a little bit of that in everyone; it was a pleasure to burn.

This isn't that fire.

This is fire with a vengeance, without mercy, with cruel intent and voiceless voice.

Faithless. Heartless. Forsaken and unloved. Lost, lost and by the wind grieved.

Unfound.

The door opens on hellfire, and the man who enter does not enter with dignity or swagger or anything but abject fear and terror and desperate relief. He's dressed all in sooty black; what wasn't black now is. His trim moustache is a mockery of vanity on his gaunt face.

He still has his gun, and he still has his hat; it has a bullet hole in it. So does he.

The man known sometimes as Gabriel Sentenza re-enters Milliways Bar, humbled. With the door slammed behind him he sinks to the ground and leans against the wall, eyes still half-mad with fear.

He smells like brimstone.

shufti

The little old ladies who run the creche in Lancre refused to take Jack back until his chickenpox is gone.

Jack doesn't mind this too much, after all, all he's mising is a bit of colouring. What he does mind are the nasty, itchy spots. Shufti is keeping him in a corner, trying to distract him with wooden blocks. There's only so much fresh air a little boy can stand, and there was a pregnant lady in the castle who didn't want him near.

So long as you're not very old, very young or pregnant, it's safe to approach them. If you are and you come near, Shufti will move him.

hippodamio

The day has been spent in watching the horses of Milliways, and in thought; Hektor has had more ideas of late than usual, and no real way to test them. There can be none of that, he knows, until he returns home. And as far as that goes, he's quite sure the goddess won't release him until he has learned off his book, and returns it. So he sits now by the fire, making his way slowly through the remaining pages of the red-bound volume.

It is no easier than it ever was, but he does not mind it so much since he met with River last.

cat_wth_panache

Puss is in tonight sitting on a stool at the bar with a glass of milk. He sips at his drink and is just people watching. Usually he does this from the vantage point of the rafters but tonight he came down for a drink and perhaps later a bite to eat.

His tail twitches in casual interest as he watches the activities and people around the bar.

chelleuncurled

[OOM: July 16 - Michelle looks for a connection between Palmer's assassination and the attacks.]

Warnings for angst and exposition.

iustus_rex

Edmund has:

- one (1) cup of tea (Darjeeling),
- one (1) accompanying teapot, half-full, with sugar bowl and lemon,
- one (1) sketchbook,
- one (1) black pen, and
- two dozen (24) coloured pencils.

He's working in ink, sketching in outlines and faint shading, and coming back to each part with coloured pencils to add in detail and flesh it out. He's not really thinking about what he's drawing, only about how it looks.

What he's sketching is something he's found himself drawing more often, these days: a bright walled garden, barred with golden gates, atop a green hill.

He can't get it quite right. He knows he never will; the paper and pens of this world can never make anything bright and perfect enough.