milliways_bar | Jun. 19th, 2007

Jun. 19th, 2007

Sitting in his room isn't helping him at all.

Even if he is being productive, somewhat, having taken a hot bath and cleaned himself up a bit, and dressing in the freshly washed garmets that were provided when he got out of the tub. It's the same thing he wore when he walked into Milliways, the dark pants and the dark shirt, minus the bullet hole. His belt sits low on his hips, and he reaches into a drawer in the dresser for his gun. Finding the weapon was simple. Checking the chambers was simple, a flick of his wrist and the steel spun on his fingertips, a familiar weight.

He practices drawing from the hip a dozen times, before steel slides into leather and his coat is pulled over his shoulders. He stares at his face for a long few moments in the mirror, before he heads downstairs and into the main bar.

Doc only stops to leave a small pile of coins on the counter and to write four quick notes, leaving them with Bar for their intended recipients. (Will Scarlett, Zhaan, Captain Sparrow, and another for another one who wants it.)

After a quick check of his hip for the gun, Doc smirks when a small shot of whiskey appears on Bar's top, and he takes it gratefully before he turns and walks towards the Front Door, wraps his hand around the knob and tugs it open. One glance over his shoulder, before he steps through, and closes it behind him.

[He will be back! Mun is just going on a brief vacation and will be back on Monday, and wanted to get Doc out of the way until then.]

cheevy.livejournal.com

Hippie poet inna bar tonight.

He got back from Estsanatlehi's Turquoise Place earlier that day, but he's been lurking around the bar ever since, not been up to his room yet. Been practicing his chameleon skills. But someone might notice him now. He's scrunched himself up against the wall in a booth, knees up to his chest and feet on the seat, taking up perhaps a fourth of the bench total. He's ducked behind some huge, old-looking tome with cobwebs clinging to the corners. His hair looks typically unbrushed, his clothing typically rumpled and frayed, and in short, not a person you would ever realize is also a wizard... though that's sort of a hobby thing since he seems to be short a few teachers.

Notice at will. He'd probably be glad of the company. He's still trying to pretend nothing whatsoever is wrong and he did not just break up with his boyfriend a few days ago. He doesn't even KNOW what said ex has gotten himself into since then.

Want to see a really fun, free show?

Tell him.

Or just come say hi.

governor-swann.livejournal.com

Weatherby Swann has found a door to this strange tavern again. However, when he checked on Elzabeth, she was still fast asleep, the dear girl.

Even though he doesn't get to see her often, he hates to disturb her. She does so need her sleep.

So he is settled at a table enjoying a very nice cup of tea.

OOC: Resistance is futile. Slowtime is inevitable.

synapse-circuit.livejournal.com

J.C. leaves two neatly handwritten notes pinned to the notice board. Both are addressed to the bar patrons in general:

( First Note: Ammunition )

( Second Note: Punching Bag and Firing Range )

After posting the notes, he sits down at the Bar for breakfast.

snapped-second.livejournal.com

The last time Brigitte was here she was thrown off by the presence of other wolves. Today, she's a little more prepared for that, but it doesn't make her feel any better physically, and in that department she looks rather haggard.

A cup of coffee would be awesome, but the last thing she needs is to get wired up on caffeine, so chamomile tea it is. Even if it tastes gross. While it cools, Brigitte scribbles in her notebook, huddled at a table.

doh-nutlover.livejournal.com

Homer is sitting in a booth concentrating on some fiddly little bits of metal.
A book of Thomas Eddison is sitting open on the table in front of him.

Anyone who knows Homer will know that this is very different from his normal bottle of beer sitting in front of him. He's decided that at his age he really hasn't accomplished enough in his life so he's become an inventor.

hippodamio

There has been much going on of late in the lands around Troy, and in the lands beyond, and so the goddess has not called Hektor back to the end of the Universe in some time; but today is different. Today has been quiet enough where he is that a moment's distraction from his duties has led him to the Bar all unwitting. That much is obvious, for the armor he wears (leather stuff, though well-made and fair to look at) is still dusty and spattered with the leavings of the battlefield. "Lady," he says, bowing to the Bar with fist on brow, "I would have looked a better suit out, had I known I would be coming here. May I have your leave to go and clean myself? This is no campaign gathering, and I would not have it look as if I thought it were."

reluctantstar.livejournal.com

Ray Terrill was having a normal day. Normal for him, anyway.

Having, in the last twenty four hours, defeated the Evil Ray, helped Uncle Sam triumph over the bad guys, and made sure a corrupt arm of the US Government was trashed all was a good thing. Returning home and finding that his stock had gone up by quite a bit was even better. This resulted in the fact that he was smiling when he walked from his small home office toward his kitchen to get a new drink.

He took several steps through his kitchen door before he realized he was not in his kitchen, or home. Or anywhere else he knew, for that matter.

He glanced one way, then the other, then down at his pajamas, which he had been lounging in, and sighed in resignation.

"Couldn't the next crisis have waited for me to get dressed? Or a drink, at least? I mean... come on!"

Muttering about the cosmos having a rather cruel sense of humor and being highly annoying, Ray walked forward further into the new place... which looked like a bar, peering around for clues as to what was happening this time.

gone_byebye

A phone call that begins with "This is Special Agent" anything whatsoever cannot possibly be good, at least not in Ray's experience. Today's phone call was no exception.

"Bar," Ray says, "could I have a laminated political map of the North American continent, a couple of dry-erase markers, and a box of pushpins, please? Oh, and a glass of the quantum blue..."

The items materialize. "Thank you," says Ray, and starts by writing out Sightings- Confirmed and Suspected across the topmost margin of the map.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi's got her pads of paper again, and her pens (not glittery), and is waiting for the next round of interviewees to show up.

It's rather nice to be doing something actually useful.

couquine.livejournal.com

The door slammed as hard as the young girl who'd stormed through it could make it. "Dammit, Irene never lets me do nothin'! Why do Ah gotta cover up so much? Ain't like Ah'm gonna get pregnant if a boy touches me!"

Her teenage angst mostly vented, the girl looked around. "Shit. Renie!" She turned back to the door. Or at least where the door had been. Nothing.

"Oh Gawd, Ah- shit!"

Welcome to Milliways, Rogue!

i-am-mr-clean.livejournal.com

Mr. Clean travels a lot, and so when he steps into the bar at first, he’s mildly confused, but not panicked.

“I must have taken a wrong turn. This isn’t the convention center…”

Still, it wouldn't hurt to get a drink while he's here, since he's got plenty of time; this looks like a nice place.

He takes a seat at the bar, but can't seem to find the barkeep... anyone want to help a fella out?

queenofmay

[OOM: Back home:

Marian is brought to what is supposed to be an exciting demonstration, which back fires and leads to a multitude of strained situations; not the least of them being a plan which involves trusting Guy of Gisborne. The results are predictable— death, destruction and despair.]

awesome_lilly

Lilly ducks downstairs and heads straight for the bar, carrying a folder with her. She drops it on the bar, smiles approvingly as it vanishes, and promptly heads back upstairs.

( Raspberry )

[OOC: not really around atm, but will have an EP later tonight.]

sosectu-rior.livejournal.com

It's been an odd few hours.
Ilyana comes in from the lake area, a scowl on her face. For once, she's grateful no one can zlin her mood.
The Bar's kind enough to give her fosebine for the headache that she's got, and a small first aid box. She picks them up with a murmur of thanks before locating a remote, unoccupied corner to sit.
Probably she should go up to her room, or the Infirmary, but woe to anyone who suggests it before she finishes her drink.
She's eyeing the front door with a definite air of impatience. It's more than past time she headed home.

Weariness catches up to her. She lays her head on her forearms, resting on the table, and shuts her eyes.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry is outside, sitting on her favourite rock, humming tunelessly and drumming her fingers on its surface with a series of tiny plops.

longlonghair

Rapunzel in on a stool at the bar, sipping a beer and waiting for a slice of pizza to cool. She got a note when she sat down about Alex's housewarming party coming up, but she already knows about that.

She looks like she could use some company, though.

mendanddefend_archive

In this installment, an infection cure is made and tested, with limited success.

Meanwhile, in the Supercomputer, AndrAIa pines for Matrix and witnesses a disturbing ending.

Back in Mainframe, Dot gets some shocking news about Hexadecimal, and then some even more shocking news from Hexadecimal, while Bob gets some bad news of his own.

Later, Hex talks to Enzo and Bob talks to Hiro about code and chaos.

Fed up with the situation, a small group of sprites take matters into their own hands, with disastrous results.

[All links contain spoilers for ReBoot Episode 4.03, "What's Love Got To Do With It?".]

gorgonfondness

Another day, another bouquet of roses.

Mia looks at them with a dim sort of sadness. Edgeworth, who got to them before she could stop him, is playing around in the flowers, fashioning a nest on top of the bar.

Her head is resting against the bar and she is now focusing on a small card.

Darling Mia, I'm sorry, and I love you.

And near her head is a note from Bar.

Idiot. But he means well.

notjustatoaster.livejournal.com

There was a door where it had once been absent. It was still there even now but Sharon hadn't gone through it yet. She had wondered about going home, it would be the easiest way to avoid bumping into people she didn't want to meet here but she still wasn't ready to go back. She didn't know what she wanted to do when she went home so she had walked away from the door.

For now she was outside, taking her pent up agression out on a poor punch bag.

organicmeatbag.livejournal.com

Revan cannot imagine a universe without milk. No, really, he can't. It has always been a strange quirk of his, but a glass of milk – blue or white, bantha or otherwise – can always calm him down in seconds.

And a glass of milk is exactly what he needs after being dragged from one shop to the next for baby things. It's not that he dislikes spending time with his girlfriend or buying things for his unborn daughters, it's just that Revan (perhaps like other men) can only take so much shopping before breaking down.

So when he had found that the door in yet another store led not to the public 'freshers but to Milliways, he was relieved for the break and now happens to be nursing a glass of milk at the bar.

iambetadraconis

Is he ever glad to be inside!

Setting the practise bow and arrows onto the bar, he orders up his usual orange soda, thinking more about how thirsty he is now that the weather has suddenly turned hot.

He's not going to think about home just yet, or how to get Muggles to help out the struggles in the Magical World.

It's when he's thinking of letters that a missive appears.

Meet Asar-Suti outside. He is waiting to give you lessons.*

A nod, and he's off to go change into his summer things before heading back outside.

[*Maru has already said we could handwave the note thing as there isn't really time to write a proper one.]

Current Mood: content

awesome_lilly

Lilly and Puck enter the bar a little more dramatically than usual tonight. (And frankly, that's saying something.)

Puck settles the children in a booth as Lilly marches over to a certain sign. After long, impassioned debate over suggestions like Beret and Geckoette, the children have at last been named. Lilly takes down the old sign and puts up a new one.

Introducing... Princess Aria Moonshine Goodfellow-Kane and Prince Adrian Sunbeam Goodfellow-Kane.

Thanks for all the suggestions, Milliways. And a special congrats to the people who came up with those names! You win ~~a child~~ a free drink. Come see Puck or Lilly any time to collect.

Her work there done, Lilly heads back to the booth to sit with the children while Puck goes to bar to place a rather lengthy and complicated order.

They are the very model of a modern happy family.

[OOC: Puck-mun is not about at the moment, but shall be in later and will tag into threads then. Lilly-mun is here for the duration.]

carefulwishes.livejournal.com

It's Claire's homecoming. Eden has her assignment: to capture Sylar. ("When the time is right, neutralize him." Neutralize. Eden hates that word - could do more than that word, with just a whisper - but she has her orders.)

She's wearing a tan jacket, black low-cut T-shirt underneath, with a black headband. She hasn't changed into the clothes she'll wear for her mission.

"Oh, God damn it," she hisses when she sees the bar. (So easy to take a drink, as easy as speaking, as easy as breaking someone's will....) She doesn't quite run, but she sure walks quickly to the back door of the bar. Outside.

And there she'll stay, walking beside the lake, hugging her arms over her chest as she gazes out at the water.

unwraith.livejournal.com

[OOM: revenge isn't a winning game((warning for spoilers for the SGA ep. "Vengeance"))]

Michael reenters the bar, tired, so worn he's ready to drop. Race is just behind him. The dog barks sharply at the unexpected change of surroundings before a warning from Michael makes him quiet down.

It's not been that long, but it feels much, much longer. He heads for the Bar, ignoring stiffness and pain in favor of strong alcohol. Even as he does, he's keeping an eye out for some particular individuals.

azure-mercy.livejournal.com

Zhaan is outside, sitting on a blanket (a blue one, of course) spread on the grass near the garden. She isn't reading, meditating or working on some herbal concoction - just enjoying the sun and humming to herself. There's a small picnic basket sitting on the blanket next to her. Perhaps it contains something tasty that she'd be willing to share.

a1enzo

[In this installment, a virus approaches Mainframe with her new helpers, a boy plays catch with his dad, seduction is attempted and cut short, and plans are put into motion. Speaking of which, here comes one of those plans now!]

Little Matrix enters the bar with two bots, a dog, and a look of determination. He looks around the bar, mentally reviewing as he does so the tasks he has been charged with. Wait here until someone comes to fetch me. Until then, stay with someone on the safelist. And find Programmers. Someone who can fix the cure so it's more compatible, and find out why it didn't work when Bob tried to...

Oh no! Bob! I forgot to tell Dot...

Matrix freezes, then wheels around and charges back past his escort toward the Door.

It's locked.

[Not plotlocked in any way. Go for it.]

Current Mood: kicking myself

killitwithfire

For once, Axel's not ensconced by the fire. He is, in fact, standing by the bar, with a mildly puzzled look on his face.

For some reason, Bar's seen fit to give him a plate of dinner with his pepper tea. Healthy dinner. There's meat, and rice, and vegetables, and it all smells delightfully spicy.

Doesn't make him any less confused.

kittenscrap.livejournal.com

Its a playfull kitten! She's bounding around the bar pouncing on random feet, attacking robes and shoelaces alike.

Did she pounce yours? Did you even notice this Scrap of a kitten when she play-attacked?

wizard_dresden

[Harry is tending bar. There are no specials tonight. Bob is back in Chicago doing research, so he's not here tonight. And yes, Harry is wearing the leather duster - as he's just run in from 'work'.]

[ooc: one more round of tags, then we're off to slowtime, folks *g*]

fortunateboy.livejournal.com

Only a matter of time before he decided to make his way to Milliways, since so many of his siblings seem to find the place a second home.

Fortune steps through the door, a stone hallway behind him can be seen briefly, and then the door shuts. He's dressed casually in trousers, shirt, and boots, and grins as he glances around. It was nice. Not what he was expecting, but then again, not much ever was.

He finds a table and takes a seat, continuing to look around, his newness quite obvious, but not uncomfortable. His brothers and sisters have given him a pretty good idea of Milliways and its ways, but it's still new.

And new was fun.

ahogarse.livejournal.com

There's blood in the air out by the edge of the trees. The sound of something dripping.

The way death smells.

There's a little boy curled up on the ground in the roots of a tree, you could almost miss him if you weren't looking.

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

In an unsurprising turn of events, there are two British men in the bar.

One of them, a formidable but well dressed man named James Bond, is belatedly perusing today's headlines by the fire. He is resigned, but not very happy, that work ate his lunch break.

The other of them, a sinister but well dressed man named Simon Skinner, is also by the fireplace, eyeing James Bond's newspaper. He is resigned, but not very happy, that Milliways gave him a newspaper from the past. (He also thinks that the man reading the newspaper looks highly familiar, but that is neither here nor there.)

[ ooc: regular multipup post regulations apply: pls b to specifyin who you are tagging. you can even tag both if you can find a good way to catch both of their attentions! ]

guppy_sandhu

Guppy decided not to go home just yet. He's never been a hundred percent sure that he's metabolising alcohol at the same rate when he's here.

That said, he'd probably be capable of working by now if anyone urgently needed a doctor. He's sitting in his usual spot near the infirmary, eating a tortilla wrap.

dear-of-heart.livejournal.com

Cora is sitting in a chair near the fire, with a cup of tea next to her and almost no chalk marks on her face (she’d walked into the Milliways restroom, first thing, and had been horrified by the amount of white powder that she’d had to wash off). She’s partway through a large book titled The Complete Hans Christian Andersen Fairy Tales that she got from the library upstairs, and looking somewhat bemused.

Earth is a much different place than she’d been led to believe, if these fairytales contain as much truth as the ones in Narnia.

fencing-prodigy.livejournal.com

Juri sits in a relatively secluded booth, having finally come down from her room. The shock of being stuck in a Bar kept her in deep thought for several days.

A bowl of miso soup sits untouched in front of her. It's not that she isn't hungry... she's famished. But a pit in her stomach won't let her swallow more than a couple mouthfuls at a time.

Her uniform shirt is unbuttoned at the neck and if one were to approach her, they would see she is looking wistfully at a picture inside her rose locket. Other than periodic looks toward the wall where she entered Milliways a couple days ago, the necklace has her full attention.

She would love nothing more than to fence away her frustrations, but she vaguely remembered Scarlet saying no violence was allowed in the Bar... Indeed, she hadn't even realized that there was anything outside the Bar yet, much less that scheduled, amicable swordplay would be permissible.

Care to enlighten her?

the_lioness

[OOM: After their respective conversations with Thom, Alanna and Lilly meet up by the lake to discuss life, death, necromancy and, of all things, Delia.]

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

Someone was still soggy from his ~~evening~~ late-night swim.

At least he wasn't dripping on the floor too hard, after all, he had gotten a towel from Bar as soon as he'd come inside, just at the moment he was sprawled on the rug near the fire.

He really was far too like a spoiled housecat for his own good.

~~GIP? Whut?~~

stilljustandrew

[In Andrew's New York, 2005: We haven't seen a certain reluctant Slayer since she had a talk with a vampire, a while back. For that matter, we don't know what a certain lawyer has been up to, either.

Maybe it's time we checked back in.

Millitimed to last week. Rated D for Denouement.]