milliways_bar | Jun. 21st, 2007

Jun. 21st, 2007

Duo is sitting by the fireplace, reading. He is wearing ratty jeans and has bare feet. He's pretty obviously relaxing.

He has no idea.

wheelsy_sheriff

Bill Pardy is at a table tonight with a pie. It is of the 'some sort of berry' variety and while Bill isn't always a fan of fruit pies this one is quite delicious. As is evidenced by the several missing slices. Yes, Bill did start with a whole pie for himself. Don't judge!

He's about halfway through his third slice so if anyone wants any they better get one now because it doesn't look like he has any problems with finishing the thing alone.

captainryan.livejournal.com

Captain Ryan's just about to head upstairs for the day when a thought occurs to him and he swerves towards Bar instead. He taps a finger against her surface for a moment, considering the best way to phrase his question.

"Bar, do you have any materials on the reanimated corpses of Deitmar's world?" There's a pause before two boxes appear on her surface. Ryan arches an eyebrow. "What is this?"

Materials on the reanimated corpses of Deitmar's world, Bar replies via napkin. Dubiously, Ryan picks up the slimmer of the two boxes and examines it, reading the back.

"A video game," he says flatly, certain the wood has gone mad, but Bar gives him no further response beyond a sense of amusement. He scowls dubiously at the wood before gathering up both boxes and heading upstairs.

[OOC: No tags, please.]

pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com

Gibbs works the deck this fine midsummer's morn, singing a song about the life and death of the legendary Captain Kidd. Alas, it's not a song with a happy end as Captain Kidd made for the gallows. But sometimes songs learned in youth have a way of sticking with you.

Come say hello to the old pirate.

[ooc: online much of the day but there will be pauses for errands and such, and offline for the weekend at 5 pm Eastern]

lady-detective.livejournal.com

Although I suppose it was good for me to relax for a time, and this place did strike me as quite interesting (once I got over the initial shock), I am now feeling restless and very bored. A person who enjoys detective work is not content without it.

Without an intellectual puzzle, I have to substitute a jigsaw puzzle. This particular one consists of one thousand pieces and depicts a fantasy landscape, with a castle, rainbow, and a herd of unicorns. Or it will depict that landscape when it's done.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Harry, it seems, has gone off to deal with horrible space monkeys.

Annie had to reread that note from the Bar several times; it was one of those incidents where no matter what rearrangement of things she tried, she couldn't get the words to make any more sense than on the first go. Harry, Cooper, and Spoon are off dealing with horrible terrifying space monkeys- and in Shetland, of all places.

Monkeys. With fear pheromones, and gigantic visible head implements, and-

Monkeys.

Sod it, she's not even bothering to claim it's a test recipe today. She's just made up an extra-large batch of triple-chocolate-chip cookies with sourdough starter (keeps 'em nice and chewy) and she's eating the damned things at a table in the Bar herself, but she might share if asked. Just be prepared for indignant Englishwoman fuming.

river_meimei

River's walking with her eyes closed; her arms are slightly lifted, like half-furled wings, and her steps are slow and exploratory.

When she steps through the door, she pauses for half an instant, her fingers spreading in surprise or for balance -- and then they relax, and she takes another careful step. And another, and then another.

She's several yards from the door before she halts, feet landing precisely together, and opens her eyes with an air of satisfaction.

jack_inthegreen

[ooc: OOM: The tree god and the comfort goddess have an idea.

Tremble with fear, mortals. Or just see the plot refresher.]

There is a Jack in the bar, drawing at a table.

This is not unusual.

There is a bowl of apples on the table.

This is not unusual either.

It is Midsummer's Day.

(That should probably be some kind of warning.)

But don't those apples look delicious? So crisp and refreshing and juicy . . .

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

Everyone's favorite evil supermarket manager is stationed at a table, glad the bar has resumed distribution of his regular clothes, even if the colors are all wrong. The khakis he usually wears on non-business excursions are today a drab olive brown like color, and the buttoned down shirt is tan. Normal people might interpret this as a suggestion to wear different clothes, but Simon Skinner, as many people in the bar have figured out by now, is not what we'd call "normal." He thinks bar's silly tampering with his wardrobe is a bad joke. Once she realizes he isn't laughing, she'll switch back to his normal and redundant wardrobe again. It will all work out!

Right?

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raz is at the bar, with her usual glass of water and come-talk-to-me-if-you're-a-hot-man look. The difference today is that she's also in an incredibly good mood, courtesy her new job with the Delicate Flowers. Come flirt with her! It's highly probable that if you're cute enough she won't ask you for money should said flirting bear... ahah... fruit.

[OOC: ~~Mun will be gone for the next hour, but promises she'll be back to pick up tags ASAP.~~ Back!]

heads-you-live.livejournal.com

Domino was back, she was also terribly terribly bored. More than likely she'd head outside for some training before too long.

Just at the moment however she was enjoying a cigarette and a cup of coffee while watching the chaos outside the window.

Feel free to poke her, just watch out for the knives.

Of course you can't see them, that's the whole point of a concealed weapon.

skyhighlucy.livejournal.com

Karolina has been assured that she doesn't need to hide who she is around here, and she's too used now to not glowing like a portal sunlamp with every thing she does. But she did find some Earth clothes upstairs, and now as she comes down, she's in tight fitting blue jeans and a light, summery halterneck, from under which she still trails out waves of light. Also, her feet only touch the ground occasionally.

Taking a seat at the bar, she looks around interestedly, partly at the people as a whole, and partly because Molly said Gert and Chase and even Victor were here somewhere.

No Nico, though.

herstocall.livejournal.com

The door opened, as it often did, on Someplace Else. This someplace else was a stone hallway, well lit by electric lights, and allowing a warm puff of air to enter.

Which turns ice cold the next moment as something enters the bar, blocking out that light, and that warm air.

That something is a tall man, wearing violently red coat, hat, and cravat, a dark red-brown suit, and white gloves which hold an odd set of symbols on them, arranged almost like a seal to those who might recognize such. He is tall, far teller than a man should be, and wears yellow tinted sunglasses, red eyes visible only when he tilts his head down to peer over one side of them. One eye is visible, the other is hidden by the shock of black hair that escapes the control of his hat.

There is an air of boredom around him, an air that vanishes as soon as he steps in. He stares around for a moment, and one eyebrow rises, with a smirk soon following.

"What have we here? Secrets being kept? New doors where they shouldn't be? How very... interesting."

He steps forward, releasing the door slowly, and looking around carefully, smirk growing, and head canted curiously.

Something new... at last.

Welcome to Milliways, Alucard.

1st_starfighter

Alex has been downstairs for awhile, reading his way through some books and sipping at soda as he reads about various ships, both of his time and other times. It has been a quiet few days, mostly spent in the simulator room or outside. Today, he just decided to be around people, so here he is.

At the moment, he is headed back toward his table, having gotten a new book to read, and a new drink to sip on, when he spies a table with a large bowl full of shiny looking apples. There is a detour as Alex's mouth waters.

A few minutes later, he is headed past Bar, and back toward his table again, with an apple shining in his hand.

bushel-o-apples.livejournal.com

[OOM: At Tía Dalma's cabin, Barbossa grows restless.]

The door opens, and for a moment Barbossa stands just past the threshold, swaying slightly, arms half outstretched to the sides to better keep his balance, sword held in his right hand. To those familiar with his reality and its denizens, the similarity to Jack Sparrow's usual stance could almost be comical. To those who aren't, maybe the fact that the door behind him shows what is quite unmistakeably a ceiling can shed some light on why he seems to be trying to regain his balance. Finally, he steadies himself up and sheathes his sword, looking around with half-lidded eyes. The corners of his mouth are slightly downturned, more in general annoyance at the world than actual displeasure. Noticing Bar, he walks over with a limp that a trained eye could discern is not as bad as he makes it appear. Now, if only there were someone behind the bar that he could ask for the other's whereabouts...

[EDIT: Slowtimed till a moment where the mun can be on properly.]

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi is settled in for interviews. She's still got a list of people who haven't come by yet, and she's got a pot of tea to help her get through the day.

...Alright, and today she's got her knitting. She can knit and take notes at the same time. It's not that hard, as long as she's got a ventral free to write with she's fine.

queenofmay

When she opened her eyes she was staring at a tea cup handle, white and thin, which was level with her nose. That was strange. Wasn't it? She couldn't remember falling asleep. Was she that tired? And why here? Better yet, as her head rose, leaving the white tea set and the browning apple core.

Where was here?

It was strange and big and bright. There were booths, tables, a bar top and groups of people. She looked at them warily, her thoughts marching clearly across her face. Disorientation and fear and curiosity. Who were there? Did they know her?

Wait.

Who was she?

Blinking she looked down over herself. A long, thin fabric dress that was richly colored and dark hair with curls. Pale hands with strange calluses and scars, not to mention the colorful flower-band ring on her left one. They were not, a single one of them, helpful to her confusion. Those things should belong to something, somewhere.

"I--"

She looked up, suddenly, toward the people in the room. There was a pause, with a look that was confusion and maybe a little anger underlining from pre-panic, though it was equally as nonsensical because she wasn't sure who they were at all, or whether they'd help, of whether she should ask them, or why they'd help even if they did hear her.

"--think I need help."

hearthethoughts.livejournal.com

There are alot of thoughts being thrown around Milliways today. Besides the usual mundane things there are the less mundane. The more obscure. The Who am I? Where am I? What am I? Thoughts.

These...are thoughts that the man curled under a table would be having.

If his hands weren't clamped over his ears.

[OOC: in forgetting who he is? Matt has forgotten his control over his ability. BE WARNED AND WARY YOUR THOUGHTS WILL BE HEARD. He doesn't want to? But he will. hands down.]

puckishly.livejournal.com

There is, as it happens, a slight young man asleep on one of the couches. He looks very peaceful, if a bit messy, and quite innocent.

Possibly because, for once in his very lengthy life, he actually is.

After a moment his eyes flutter open, and he frowns.

"... Mm."

Slowly, he sits up, looking around in some confusion.

"Er ..."

This is ... none of this around him is ringing any bells.

For that matter, he's not ringing any bells.

"... Hello? Um. Someone?"

[OOC: Here forever. Go wild!]

gorgonfondness

Hey look! Sleeping Beauty!

Well, no, actually. Just a beautiful young lady who happens to be asleep on yet another couch, a half-eaten apple sitting in her hand.

Oh no! What if she's Snow White and the apple has put her in a sleeping death?

Granted, it hasn't. Something far less drastic instead.

But still.....

Any Prince Charmings or dashing knights care to come wake her up?

will_scarlett

Stretched out on one of the couches, he wakes up and opens his eyes looking around at the busy place.

What a lovely place full of people and music, he sits up and grins a bright and wide smile, he's not quite sure of his name, but what a glorious place.

His clothing is comfortable and rather green, he finds a mirror and grins, it matches his eyes rather well and what lovely red hair, he has, now to see about perhaps finding something to eat.

captainryan.livejournal.com

[OOM: Ryan decides he isn't overly fond of video games. It may have to do with the way he keeps dieing in them.]

Captain Ryan has a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, though it hasn't done much good yet. He was up later than he expected to be, ah, researching Deitmar's reanimated corpses. His eyes are closed at the moment, and he doesn't appear to be all that aware of his surroundings.

Of course, he spent last night having zombies jump out of the shadows at him. How you choose to determine whether or not he's asleep is entirely up to you.

forgottenfeline

There is an orange cat sprawled out in front of the fire.

Perhaps the half eaten apple next to him is some manner of clue, though it looks like the bites taken out of it are human sized.

He looks so peaceful and cute, don't you just want to pet him?

young_tmriddle

Tom's head raises up from the table with a jerk. "Hmm?"

He blinks his eyes and peers about the- pub? Is he in a pub?

He recognizes no one- but then again, he doesn't quite recognize himself.

"Oh, I say..." he mutters. "I've no ruddy clue who I am."

Looking down he assesses his clothing, which seems to consist of black robes over a suit.

"I'm- I'm a barrister?" He finds his wand and takes it out of his pocket, staring at it. "And a conductor?"

...

"Good Lord."

stupid-scar.livejournal.com

[OOM: Welcome to Milliways, Vulpes and Harry Blanc.]

Harry Potter and Miniver Cheevy are in the bar. Somehow, they've managed to figure out for themselves that the rats are waiters, and ordered drinks. Miniver, who Harry seems to be calling Harry, generously offered to pay for his younger brother.

Vulpes. Who talks with a very BAD American accent.

Now, the two of them are lounging at a table with mugs of beer. They're both sort of half hoping somebody recognizes them and can tell them where they live. But if not, it's fine, really. The grass outside was comfortable enough, and the drinks here are fine, and neither of them feels any particular need to be anywhere but here, doing what they're doing.

It's startling how a bout of amnesia can lift one's spirits.

[OOC: The mun is going to ask, for the sake of crack, that anyone who DOES recognize "Harry and Vulpes" not clue them in to who they are just yet. Also, all threads here will be slowtimed, as mun must disappear for a few hours later this evening. But will be around tonight, and will tag!]

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

There was a wizard sleeping, a partially eaten apple idly rolling by.
Looks rather young for his years actually.

Dare you to wake him up?

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

There was a groan from the man who had been sleeping, slumped over a table. He slowly lifted his head, and blinked his eyes open. Huh, where was he? And why does his mouth faintly taste of apples? He smacked his lips a few times as he looked around. Well, there was a partially eaten apple. Only it's now rolled on the floor. So much for a snack.

Now where is this again? ...A bar? Ok... now, what else was he trying to think of? Oh a name, right. Damn, what was it again?

maj-ferretface.livejournal.com

There is a man wandering the bar. He is wearing army fatigues complete with a major's insignia, and carrying a notebook, in which he is taking half-hearted notes. He has this instinctive feeling that good - fanatical - note-taking was very important to whoever this notebook belonged to, but - he can't read the handwriting.

All of this wandering and note-taking is aimless, and quite confused.

There is still a bit of dribbled apple juice on his pointy chin.

bringonthewonder

She's dozing. There's a mostly eaten apple around here somewhere, but she will have forgotten about it by the time she wakes up.

She will have forgotten a great many other things, too, of course. In a lot of ways, the apple will be the least of them.

In some other ways, it really, really won't be.

But for now, she's dozing.

uksupercop.livejournal.com

A passing observer would be forgiven for not recognizing Nicholas Angel as he enters the bar this particular evening. He's dressed in casual clothing, has two empty cans and a half-empty bowl of popcorn in hand, and he actually looks... relaxed.

As the door closes on what a keen listener might recognize as the beginning of an all-night Lethal Weapon marathon, he suddenly realizes that his snack break has taken a bit of a detour. He doesn't seem overly concerned by this until he spots a certain familiar face...

And he'd been having such a nice night.

mogget_cat

Some time this afternoon, Axel and Yrael are wandering into the bar room from the lake area, already deep in discussion.

"So," Axel says, gesturing, "what you're essentially saying is that you'll be rewiring my entire body?"

"Pretty much," Yrael nods, amiably. "Though it will be more 'wiring' than 'rewiring.' For a heart to work, it needs blood vessels, and those have to go through every part of your body to keep it alive. You'll need those before any heart will work."

"Sounds complicated," Axel raises an eyebrow at Yrael.

"That's because it is. Shall we get something to drink?" He suggests lightly, as they find a place to sit.

Of course, anyone who knows these two could have guessed that they'd head for the couch in front of the fireplace.

(ooc: Two pups, two muns~~, fabulous prizes~~! Millitimed to before the amnesia plot. Tag at will!)

gabriel_tam

Parliament is between sessions at present, which is somehow less of a relief than he had expected it to be. He's anything but relaxed, these days.

Gabriel knows why, though. At long last, after months of hotly-contested debate, the Interplanetary Infrastructure and Guardianship Act will be voted upon during the next session.

There's very little left to do now but wait and see, but he's never liked waiting all that well, even when necessary. This is probably why he's absently drumming a staccato beat on the table with his fingers while he reviews the stored media feeds on his datapad.

guppy_sandhu

It's never a good sign when you wake up on the floor. That'll teach Guppy to eat whilst walking around.

He sits up and winces, putting one hand to his forehead from which blood oozes. He looks at his fingers in surprise. Did he trip and knock himself out? Or pass out and fall?

Where am I? He glances around, blinking slightly.

Beat.

More to the point, who am I?

He pulls himself onto the seat and looks on his person. No identification in his wallet, but there's a picture. A happy looking group of four. His parents and grandparents perhaps? Some rubber gloves. A couple of cat biscuits. A stethoscope, now there's a clue. He picks up the coat he was carrying and looks in the collar, just on an offchance. And, he thinks, strikes lucky.

Okay, it looks like I'm Atton Rand... and possibly a vet.

With that question answered, he turns his attention to the blood dripping off his eyebrow... but he doesn't know what to do.

gramarye1971

It is Midsummer at Milliways, and as befits the day there is quite a lot of magic in the bar.

Almost too much for Merriman's liking, really. Not necessarily because of the kind of magic, but mostly because he has a feeling that he will end up hearing about its repercussions sooner rather than later.

So to keep a bit of distance, he is outside by the lake, walking along the water's edge to take advantage of the daylight on this the longest day of the year.

wheelsy_sheriff

There is a man dozing in the corner, cap pulled down low and apple core sitting on a table nearby. Apparantly Bill didn't make it back for that shift at the station. He doesn't know that though because well, he doesn't remember much of anything.

He'll realize that soon as he's starting to stir, waking with a drowzy yawn and blinky survey of the room.

"...huh?"

try_corsets

There seem to be a number of confused looking patrons in the bar this evening. Elizabeth is not above watching the crowd for entertainment, and so she is seated with her back to a wall and a faintly curious expression on her face. Her clothes are neat and her newly lightened hair is pulled back in a knot, but she doesn't look as if she's had a decent amount of rest in several days. The pot of tea on the table beside her elbow grows cool and low while she observes the people around her, contemplating striking up a conversation with someone new or simply waiting for an acquaintance to wander by. The latter is, for the moment, the more attractive option, which isn't to say she wouldn't welcome conversation if it comes her way.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

There's a teenage girl who has her head down upon her arms over a table. Presently, she yawns, stretches, and opens her eyes, blinking sleepily.

She looks around. "I wonder where I am," she says, looking dazedly about her. She doesn't feel any particular alarm, though her brow furrows in confusion.

She looks inwardly for information that...should probably be there. There's a half-eaten apple beside her, but she doesn't remember eating. She doesn't remember...anything.

At all.

Vaguely, she feels as if she should probably be a bit more upset. But her motions as she checks herself for a purse or any sort of identification are unhurried and not at all panicky. There's nothing on her person, of course, and somehow, she knew there wouldn't be.

Vaguely, she feels like eating. She's hungry.

But she's not exactly sure what she feels like eating. She doesn't remember what her favorite foods are. So she goes up to the bar and sits, a little dazed and blank.

[ooc: please not to be revealing to Angela who she is yet, plzkthxbai. :)]

fighting_mad

Plourr has a ringside seat to all of the confusion tonight, sitting at an in-the-way (as opposed to out of it) table. Her feet are up on the table, and she still has a bowl of pasta in hand, but most of her attention is going toward watching the goings-on with unmitigated amusement, and occasionally snickering. This is going a long way toward easing the mood caused by the discovery that she can't wear half her kriffing wardrobe. As such, she's wearing a fitted long-sleeved tunic and dressy knee-length black shorts -- simple, elegant, and definitely not a choice she would ordinarily make for a night when she could be wearing what she wants.

Unfortunately, what she wants isn't feasible; no one makes maternity wear for off-duty pilots.

This is definitely going a long way.

She bursts out laughing as one particularly befuddled-looking individual wanders past.

Sometimes, Milliways is brilliant when it comes to entertainment value.

mistressmaryquitecontrary

A girl and a man are sitting at a table in the bar.

They don't look very much alike - the girl's blonde and sharp-faced; the man tall and dark-haired - but they must be related all the same, because the girl has just called him "Father."

gotapenny.livejournal.com

[ooc: Millitimed to after some OOMs that are still in the works]

Time was a funny thing when it came to Milliways. By all accounts George Luz wasn't expecting to find the door back to the bar so soon after jumping. Heck- they had been around Eindhoven, Holland for a day or two and encountered little resistance. It was nothing like when he first found the place when around Carentan, France. Regardless Luz couldn't help but grin from ear to ear upon finding his most fav place at the end of the universe.

Shifting his carbine against his shoulder, it clinks slightly with the radio on his back, and the rest of his gear almost seeming to weigh the man down. But that doesn't stop him as he quickly makes his way towards Bar. "Boy am I sure glad to see you," he says with the largest grin he can muster. "How's 'bout somethin nice to eat aside from these K-rations, doll? Surprise me."

heromolly.livejournal.com

Molly hadn't been expecting to walk into Millways when she went to her study room to color today, but she's cool with it. The bar's a more welcoming environment than the sterile walls of her ~~prison~~ bedroom. And she can actually go outside if she wants to here.

She is wondering why so many of the people are acting so strange, though.

gramarye1971

[OOM: About a week ago, Captain Jack Sparrow and Commodore Lyon spoke for the first time in several months.

It was a most informative conversation.]

morelikeasponge.livejournal.com

The last thing Peter remembers is hanging up Christmas lights for the party.

Well, and waking up in a completely unfamiliar place, with no hangover symptoms and nothing to suggest a concussion. (This doesn't stop him from absently patting his head every now and then, to make sure it hasn't suddenly sprouted any bruises.) And -- equally disturbing -- no wallet.

Now he's wandering the bar, searching in vain for street exits, maps, pay phones, and police.