milliways_bar | Jun. 13th, 2007

Jun. 13th, 2007

After speaking to Marian there are notes for Molly Carpenter, Belladonna and friends of Will Scarlett.

Will walks across the Bar after bowing to Marian and his step is steady and his determination clear as he opens the Front Door, a scent of woods, ash and death float through as the cry of a horn can be heard.

With one step, Will is through and the door closes behind him.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Happy hour didn't help Draco. Neither did the sword practice out back afterwards. Felt wound up some, and wanted to relax. And still being without magic didn't help. He sported a new moonstone pendant around his neck, and a rapier strapped to his belt as he sat at a table.

The Prince was on the table by him, and he was currently reading Art of War again. There was some tea and a plate of biscuits with raspberry jam by him.

aj_crawley

There are limits, you know. There's a certain point, different for every person, but known almost universally in the collective unconscious as Enough Is Enough. It is, in brief, that point when one - finally having Had Enough - decides, more or less, "Fuck it."

After Friday - well, that was it, really, wasn't it? Crowley has the time saved up, and right now, he feels he really deserves some down-time.

That's the reason, on a Tuesday night, he's not skulking around some beaten-down Middle Eastern suburb. The reason he's here, over near the fireplace, and not avoiding Milliways like the plague for fear of who he might run into (again), is -

Well, it's his damn watering hole.

And he doesn't look jumpy at all.

Really.

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

There was a trick to being able to load a shotgun one-handed and fire almost immediately from the hip.

It was a trick Domino knew, but had yet to master. Which would be why there was a bounty hunter out at the firing range with a bucket of shells and a row of cans.

Feel free to interrupt, just don't sneak up on her is all.

twoeyesonthesky.livejournal.com

Quinn's been thinking for a while, and he's finally come to what he hopes is a reasonable conclusion about his situation. There's a brief, quiet conversation with the Bar, after which he puts up a sign on the message board:

If there are any human or human-looking physicians, medics, or other emergency medical practitioners who are both willing to work in an extremely low-tech situation and are capable of dealing with advanced burn trauma, I would appreciate the chance to talk to you. My name is Quinn Abercromby. A physical description follows, as he doesn't have a photograph of himself. Thank you.

PS: No magic or psychic healers, please- it won't work.

That being done he heads to a seat by the fire with a cup of coffee, and tries not to look too worried about the situation back home.

re_mybrains

If the blogotubes are to be believed, it's the Zombie Apocalypse out there today.

Tom is happily unaware of this fact, but he can't help glancing at the front door uneasily every once in a while, as he munches on Fritos in a booth and tries to focus on a copy of an Ikea catalog. The day feels . . . weird.

queenofmay

Marian is not one to hold on to night's darkness which can not be addressed. So when she finished writing her aimless, nameless, letter on Bar and it vanished only to be replaced with a brown leather bound book, she went toward the future instead of being locked in the past words.

You will find her now, sipping tea and eating from a bowl fruit, while reading the book of poems, laughing now and then, sighing wistfully, or wiping a tear away, but with a smile present the whole time.

Company is quite welcome.

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

There once was a Delicate Flower
Who oft liked to sing in the shower
We won't subject you
To what ~~he thinks~~ he can do,
Because even our dear Bar would glower.

Today he was off in a booth
Having some penne to tooth
There's still quite a lot
And it's piping hot
So, please go bother the youth

gorgonfondness

[OOM: Mia talks to her mother and gets some much needed advice.]

There is a distinctly less miserable looking Guildmaster back in the bar.

And there are some people that she feels like she's ready to talk to now, even if she's not sure things will go very well.

the_dorian_gray

He stumbles into the bar for the first time.

There is vague blinking. He's wearing tattered jeans, a button down shirt that's seen better days, and no shoes. A smoky, pungent aroma surrounds him as the door closes, and he grins lopsidedly. He remembers he'd gone looking for... something... gone through a door... and it was dark. This place wasn't dark, but it wasn't a bad looking place.

Dorian figures it's another one of his waking dreams.

Hallucination.

And what better hallucination than... a bar?

He grins and walks up to the bar, looking for the bartender. A drink to calm the nerves.

Dorian giggles almost drunkenly to himself at that thought. After more than a century of immortality and indulgence, what nerves had he left to calm?

Still, a drink!

[OOC: Time for me to head to Slumber Land! All tags will be picked up in the AM. All slowtimes welcomed.]

mendanddefend_archive

In this installment, plans are made by both the good guys and the bad guys.

Later, Dot relives old memory files, Enzo gets a makeover, and Bob ignores good medical advice.

Meanwhile, out in the 'Net, Hiro and YT have a strange encounter, and Matrix and AndrAIa walk into a trap.

Before any of this can be resolved, the worst comes to pass.

[All links contain spoilers for ReBoot episode 4.02, "Cross Nodes."]

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

Jack Frost is in the corner, happily reclining in a booth and very much enjoying playing with a glass of icecubes, which he's drinking as they melt.

In between the ice, he's trying to read a very boring pile of papers, and fill in equally boring forms.

Can you blame him being distracted?

untraitor.livejournal.com

The small, dark alien is in the bar, near the observation window.

There is a strange look about him. A glow, an energy, an intensity. Impossible to identify... quite.

He seems restless, his hands on the table tracing lines and his darting eyes staring darkly, lines and fire, heat and stillness, and the universe ends as it begins. At some point, a rat had offered him food, but he is not hungry. Not for food, at least...

[ooc: Locked to Jack Frost, plz.]

synapse-circuit.livejournal.com

Under normal circumstances, J.C. is an early riser and an active person. Lately, of course, his healing body has demanded that he rest. So, except for a short excursion into the bar proper yesterday and a couple of trips to pick up food, he's been up in his room, recuperating.

Those little nanobots in his system have been doing their work wonderfully, repairing in sixteen hours what his body would otherwise have taken days - or even a week - to mend on its own. The bandage that was on his forehead yesterday is gone, and the only sign of the cut there is a pink line of healing skin. His limp is far less severe and his right arm is at least somewhat usable. Generally and on balance, he only feels like crap, not like hell. Which is a major improvement.

It's enough of one that he can retrieve his weapons and gear, which Simon Tam had deposited with the Bar while J.C. was under his care. He can't carry it all at once, though, and has to make a couple of trips to bring the larger and more dangerous stuff up to his room. The weapons he's carrying - and the quantity of them - earn him some funny looks, which he ignores.

When he's put away the last of his things, he returns downstairs, equipped only with some of his smaller weapons. The most obvious are a 9mm pistol on his right hip and a combat knife on his left. Those with more practiced and discerning eyes will note that he is in fact armed to the teeth, or so near as makes no difference.

Even the simple task of getting his things squared away has tired him out. And he's hungry. He's currently attending to the latter problem by means of an early supper.

Current Location: At the Bar

ltmuldoon.livejournal.com

[OOM: In a world where zombies are actually possible, jokes like this are never ever funny. They detract from Very real danger.. Happy Zombie Day Kids!]

hero_farmboy

It's been another long day of doing very little. Clark spent a lot of it out in the stables, finally having gotten homesick enough that even though it's not a barn, it was close enough to be comfortable.

Tonight, he's still outside, having found a nice patch of grass to sit, simply watching the sun set and the sky in general. It's a habit Clark apparently hasn't been able to break, even here.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi Darley is sitting at a table, waiting for her trip to Quinn's world. She's knitting, because she does that, and on the table next to her is a sign.

It is a big sign. It was written with a glitter pen. It says:

.

The glitter pen is hanging from a string taped to a pad of paper.

There you go.

carefulwishes.livejournal.com

Eden is in Texas. Eden has been watching Isaac trying to paint a pretty, prophetic picture relating to a cheerleader. Eden has been watching him fail.

This explains why Eden looks very worried when she enters Milliways. She's wearing modern clothing; jeans, black low-cut shirt covered by a form-fitting tan jacket, a trendy black headband. Once she realizes where she is, her expression switches to interest - but worry makes its way back eventually.

Her gaze keeps going to Bar. (One drink couldn't hurt, you know. Just one. And it would solve so much....)

Eden stalks to the door out back. She stands outdoors, breathing the air in and out, in and out, eyes closed. She composes herself, then looks around, seeing if there's anything or anyone of interest.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Harry and Annie didn't get to talk much last night, thanks to the weird hours their respective professions occasionally mean they must keep. Annie did, however, shove some papers at him on his way out the door. He didn't get to read them during the day, as he had work to do with the girls, so he's taking a little time out to read them at Milliways before heading home.

His expression is steadily souring as he goes through the pages.

dr_temperance

Brennan is by the Observation Window with a cup of Milliways coffee.

It's not quite as good as the Diner's coffee, she's decided. Although it's possible that her perception has been slightly colored by her most recent visit to the Royal Diner. Sully had taken her for pie and coffee yesterday after they'd wrapped the case of the girl in the gator.

I guess we're not working together anymore, he'd said. And since we have no professional obligations to each other, I can ask you out. Theoretically.

Theoretically, Brennan had replied with a smile.

The same smile that's on her face as she sips her coffee and studies the swirling colors outside the window.

futures_of_ash

The air by the door shivered, rippling for a moment. No door appeared, and yet a darkness grew, star flecked and piercingly cold, and a flame fought towards the Bar. Distance was warped and twisted, as the flame grew closer in achingly slow moments...

Closer, and closer yet, until the woman wrapped within the flame's hold could hook a hand, dripping blood and strained to gauntness, on the wood at the edges of the opening. Rachel had been gone a while...

...and now, now she was almost home.

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Some people know how to cause trouble even when they aren't there.]

Guppy is sitting near the infirmary, looking mildly rebellious. Getting framed by an angry former boss just because their naughty little secret got discovered doesn't make for a fun day.

However, having wasted most of his day helping the police, he will quite happily remove the ruffled scowl should company or patients turn up.

argyle_princess

Hannah has coffee and pre-cal homework.

The first has gone pretty cold, and she could probably use a break from the second, since her eyes are starting to cross.

sed-en-ta-ry.livejournal.com

The vampirate was back.

Just at the moment she was perched near the observation window, studying the stars outside, they were different than the ones back home, and that made it difficult to tell where it was she was supposed to be.

She was also singing, quietly, mostly just to fill the silence.

"I'll tell you a tale of Vampirates,
A tale as old as true.
Yea, I'll sing you a song of an ancient ship,
And its mighty fearsome crew.
Yea, I'll sing you a song of an ancient ship,
That sails the oceans blue...
That haunts the oceans blue."

burbonmilkshake.livejournal.com

Faye is wandering around, trying to find something to do. She misses her friends, and wants to figure out how to go home. Being bound, in her opinion, gets boring after a while.

It feels like one of those "what did the character forget to do? why are they reliving their day over and over again?" type books, and frankly, Faye is tired of it.

Mun is having computer issues. She will be back--um, sometime? :D?