milliways_bar | Jun. 26th, 2007

Jun. 26th, 2007

[OOM: It seems that she's forgiven him. Rated P and R for memories worthing of a Private Rememberizer.]

[OOM: Some days ago, Lucy Pevensie and Archibald Craven had a somewhat disastrous exchange of opinions.

Immediately afterwards, in the House of Arch, Edmund finds his little sister, and old patterns prove easy to return to, if not precisely happy.]

bigredbeak

[OOM: After a talk about home towns and classic films, Brooklyn ends up taking Elda to New York for a totally not date. And there are movies, site seeing, and even some crime stoppings.]

cf1.livejournal.com

The signs are there, for anyone to see.

First, room 1301 is locked, its occupant missing.

Second, people who were at the bar this very early morning of tuesday, might have seen the door opening and revealing a green glow, then closing. Some might even swear they saw someone leaving.

Finally, there are notes, very short and simple, delivered to the people who so kindly helped her pull herself together and prepare for the challenges ahead: The door is back. I have to go. Take care. - Caitlin.

A confused, scared teenager entered the bar a couple months ago. A heroine in making leaves it, to face her destiny.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Gen13 has left the building.

pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com

It was now a hassle, just getting to the Bar. Oh, he understood that Barbossa was not one to trifle with, but it's still not precisely fun to need a raft to get back and forth to land. And to top it all off, there's nary a morsel of food on the ship now. Save for an apple that Gibbs picked last week. He takes the apple, pockets it, and heads ashore...

He finishes the last bite of apple and tosses the core aside as he enters the room. And then notices where he is. It doesn't look familiar. Too well lit for a tavern in Port Royal. And that's not the only thing wrong.

"Where's my uniform?" Just how drunk did he get last night? Why does he has a pistol? "Norrington is not going to be happy." He looks around, feeling lost.

notjustatoaster.livejournal.com

Sharon still has no memory so she's still a little confused. from the few people she's spoken to so far she's at least figured out her name and the fact that she's a pilot.

It seems that not many people in the Bar know her or those that did have also lost their memory so she's hit a dead end as far as finding out she is.

For the moment she has decided not to let it bother her. She's sitting with a rather cheerful looking fruit drink fizzing in front of her and looking out of the observation window.

Definately botherable.

poisonwine

An assassin queen glides into Bar. If she looked regal when she exited, that is nothing compared to now. While she's still wearing her assassin's armor (new stuff, made to fit), there are fewer weapons visible. In fact, the only one that's out in the open is the plain sword from her exit. There's a small gold diadem braided into her hair.

After a second, she realizes that, despite her intention of leaving a Guild meeting for home, she's wound up in Bar. Not one to be fazed by that, she wanders over to Bar, asks her to hold the sword and receives a set of plain clothes. With a grateful pat, Belle wanders off to change.

She comes back wearing a button down t-shirt and a short skirt, both in a deep shade of royal blue. Which makes her smile. No silly slogan is a good thing, though the 'tracts of land' shirt is one of her favorites now.

You might want to point out she's still wearing the crown. She's clean forgotten about it.

forgottenfeline

There is a ginger cat at the Bar, eating a bowl of gushy foods. He seems to be quite content with his lot in life, and says 'purr' in between bites.

Come and pet the kitty!

silentson.livejournal.com

Finally, everything was going right.

After so long trapped in his fathers body, trapped in madness, Joseph had finally been restored, been reborn. Not only was he back with the Titans, but he had family now, a little sister, also damaged by their father, but still family. Somehow, it all just felt right.

If he could have, Joseph would have been whistling as he strolled through the door to his room, hoping to pick up a few art supplies, and get some portraits done of the new Titans. Such a roster change since his day, but at least Raven and Cyborg are still there. Cyborg is ALWAYS there.

So, it comes as some surprise that the door to his room opens instead on a bar. Could this be the Oblivion Eddie told him about? Possibly. Sure looks close enough. A little odd, unusual patrons, yes, this could be it. His eyes dart back and forth,a joyful smile on his face. This is just awesome, in so many ways.

Someone come help the new person, who looks like a kid on christmas?

md_donighal

The man in the gray suit has been watching the fun at a distance, with some amusement. Not much, though: he knows that A random act of Fucking Milliways removes patrons' memories, with hilarious consequences is the sort of thing that, anywhere else, would end (in the words of a great American poet) with somebody going to emergency and somebody going to jail.

Besides, he can't really afford to get caught up in it. He's got places to be. Right now, he's only here to get to the party. He's botherable until then, I guess, but he may leave at any moment.

Current Mood: hopeful

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Annie steps into the Bar from Yorkshire, closing the door firmly behind her. Today was a bit of a nightmare at the bakery. Not that she has anything against more business, but when it all comes down at once, your resources get taxed to their limit. Right now she'll be quite happy if she doesn't have to look at a Hobart stand mixer, or a sack of flour, or anything of that nature.

Fortunately, Bar is perfectly willing to give her tea and a sandwich that she doesn't even have to assemble herself, let alone bake.

too-far-in.livejournal.com

[OOMs: The Rebels get their revenge and the Implacable falls. Admiral Trigit pisses Gara Petothel off for one last time, and a change of character is put into place...literally.]

The door opens and in stumbles a blonde girl, shaking, head swimming under the influence of drugs she's just taken. She's dressed in...barely anything; lingerie that does nothing to hide anything, and a thin robe. Eye make-up is heavily applied, and lipstick is smeared across her face, like she's just run away from an encounter with a lover.

She stumbles slightly, tugging the robe around her body. Her tongue feels thick and she feels nauseous.

(Anything for the job).

masterofsoresu

The Donighal seems to have neglected to warn his friends about the situation he himself is so assiduously avoiding. As such, there's a Jedi Master who has eaten one of the apples from the metaphorical Tree of Ignorance.

Well, there was a Jedi Master. Right now, there's a fresh-faced young Jedi who's had thirty-two Standard years of bad memories stripped away, and whose body (such as it is) has reset to act his mental age.

He wakes up and looks about him, trying to figure out where he is. He sees a sign or two (or three), but he can't read your crazy ~~moon language~~ Outer Rim poultry-scratchings, and even if he could, it wouldn't occur to him that they might apply to his situation.

He's just starting to notice that he's not on Naboo anymore. If you hurry, you can get there right as he starts to panic.

Current Mood: confused

hadtobegood.livejournal.com

The door has caught Syal after another patrol of Corellian space; a short one this time, so she's not too tired or rumpled.

She still doesn't want to sit around the bar in her flightsuit and with her helmet (there's always the potential to lose it). So she approaches Bar, asks for "casual clothes, Corellian style? And a room key, I guess, but just for a few hours," and heads upstairs to shower and change.

When she returns, her hair's damp and combed neatly out of her face, and she settles in at Bar for lunch (a fresh salad -- you don't get that on a spaceship surviving on Alliance rations) and "a drink I've not had -- not too alcoholic, just something that tastes good."

(It's a banana daiquiri.)

(She's not sure what she thinks of it, yet.)

gone_byebye

Ray's just come in from a long day at work. Manhattan is an absolute zoo right now- no, literally. There's been a wave of exotic animal ghosts from every place where somebody's unsuitable pet or somebody's zoo animal died untimely. Some of those things are downright nasty, which is why he's stuck with multiple colors of slime and goo all over his jumpsuit and proton pack. "Bar," he says as evenly as he can, "the quantum blue, please. A lot of it."

The glass that materializes holds somewhere around twenty-three ounces of liquid only marginally less blue than Windex.

"Thank you."

not-lazy-steph.livejournal.com

That girl with the pink hair was still around. Yep, the one who didn't remember her name.

She did, however, remember that she liked to dance.

That said, bouncy cheer-dancing girl out by the lake, occasionally turning cartwheels and handsprings, apparently having the time of her life.

Feel free to join in.

synapse-circuit.livejournal.com

J.C. is practicing with a sword today.

In terms of appearance, weight and balance, the Dragon's Tooth is very similar to a traditional Chinese short sword. It has a straight, pointed blade a bit shorter than J.C.'s arm, and an ornate red-and-gold grip and guard with a dragon motif. There are switches on the grip, and a humming blue aura surrounds the blade, the edge of which is honed to a molecule's thickness.

From the way J.C. uses the sword, it's obvious that while he's in no danger of chopping off his own extremities, he's really not trained with the thing and would almost certainly lose a duel against a reasonably competent swordsman.

lichvell-r.livejournal.com

There was once a Bar at the End of the Universe, and in that Bar, there was a rather unique being, who was sitting at the count, with a book and a diet soda, correctly reading the former and drinking the latter.

Most likely, she is back to plotting death and destruction. Or she might be just killing time.

forge-fire.livejournal.com

Heph is sitting outside in the grass, his cane laying across his legs.

He's not really staring at anything so much as just... thinking.

He gets like this, sometimes. He lets his own silence fill him up, consume him, start to attack him in the dark corners of his mind. Let's the inner voices chew himself up.

He's not emo. He's just sitting.

He could use a distraction, though.

Current Music: Final Fantasy (Soundtracks) - Blackjack

hack-slash-bots.livejournal.com

Wedged away into a corner booth are a pair of brightly color coordinated robots. One might think, in Milliways, this is not such an unusual event, and to be fairly honest, that's what these two are hoping it will be. They've each gotten themselves a nice healthy can of 32-bit oil from 'Miss Bar' and seemingly sip from the spout on occaission. Enzo's upstairs in the dorm room that Bar provided, even the most patient of renegades will tell these two to 'take a hike' when their constant motherboarding gets to be too much.

"But he was Mega--.... our former employer's pet for hours before we started taking care of him."

"Yes... but...he was his pet for a really...really long time. When we were still doing bad stuff."

"We made sure Nibbles got good care after that though!"

"...I still think we're in trouble and that we need to make it up to her..."

The mookbots are trying to figure out if they're in trouble or not with Dot. Since they're got some free time for the moment, they want to try and think on it and come to a rational conclusion.

This could be a while

gorgonfondness

Mia has a familiar smile on her face.

One that should be explanation enough for where she's been the other night.

And yesterday.

She may not have the bulk of her memories, but damn!

Life is good.

will_scarlett

Between the woods and the gardens, a clearing has been hung with lights, a table is laid with food and drink and many sorts of music drift through the air.

Will wanders through it all wearing a green silk shirt, Bar gave him, his green eyes alight as he checks to make sure everythings set up properly.

The long summer nights are made for dancing and tonight there is music in the fading light.

(OOC: A few threads will be set up, feel free to create your own and threadhop, classic party post here. I'll be here as long as I can and slowtime is always welcome. Have fun!! Will mun here, Back. Keep having fun and thank you to everyone who's tagged.)

all-in-plato.livejournal.com

The Professor has spent all morning, and most of the afternoon, writing an article on certain grammatical forms in a passage from Plato's Republic. Around four, which was just a few minutes ago, Mrs Macready made a point of standing just outside his office door, coughing loudly, by which Professor Kirke understood that his household staff felt that he was working too hard and he ought to take a break for tea, or perhaps a walk in the grounds. Obediently, Kirke opened the door to permit Mrs Macready to bring in the tea service.

Now, looking through the doorway into Milliways, the Professor says, "I suppose I will be going farther than usual for my tea today."

watching_you

[OOM: It starts innocently enough, as these things do.

And then it goes from there.

And it ends with a bang.

Warnings for violence.]

puckishly.livejournal.com

Puck has now decided that, amnesia or not, he is never talking to strangers again. The burns on his hands are quite enough to ensure that.

He never did go inside again since that night, and though by now he is quite hungry for something that is not some variety of flora, it's not as if he can actually hold onto anything long enough to eat it. (The burning sensations have by now faded to occasional stings, but touching anything still makes it worse.) He's sitting by the lake now, one eye to the bar, and sinking his fingers into the cool mud by the shore in the hopes of soothing them.

He is not, perhaps, much in the mood for company.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi is settled in for interviews. She's got paper, pen, knitting, tea, and her list of questions.

It could be worse.

wizard_dresden

Right, so, New Mexico is incredibly hot. I'm thinking it has to do with that desert thing it has going on. Anyway, it's also where Luccio, Ramirez and I are training some new Wardens in battle-magic. Or - we will be once we unglue ourselves from... everything.

You ever have to set-up a tent under blistering heat? Not so much fun. It's done though, and now we can get out of the blistering heat.

I step through the tent flap, into the less-hot-inside of the tent, calling back to Ramirez, "Hey, you have any water that hasn't evaporated..."

But I seem to have stepped, not into the tent, but into a very familiar bar. "Nevermind."

Looks like I get to have my water and serve it too. Hooray for me. Sorry for the uber!sweaty look, didn't have time to shower before my shift.

Specials
WATER
Tequila
Michelada*

*added in Ramirez's handwriting

"Order up and don't mind the Latin wizard across the bar, he's just there for show."

[ooc: tag one or the other or both - just toss into the subject line to whom you are speaking... grazie]

ETA: [ooc: and the Harry-mun calls it a night folks]

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

Random is folded into an armchair, looking still extremely irritable, turning the pages of his newspaper with vehemence, failing utterly to do more than look at the words.

naughty-djinni.livejournal.com

I knew it was coming even before it begun, I felt my stomach tighten before the pain hit. I was being summoned. There were 2 ways this could go, I could fight it and bear the horrible agony it would bring or I could go to my new master and obey their command until they saw fit to let me leave again.
After a few minutes of bearing the pain I decided it wasn't worth it and chose the latter option. I let myself go, felt my essence being pulled to somewhere far away from where I was now.

I decided to appear in one of my more imposing forms and appeared as a huge raging red cloud of smoke. Imagine my surprise when there was no pentacle, no magician, only a lot of people sitting in what appeared to be a Bar.
I quickly changed into my form of Ptolemy* to avoid suspicion and hoped that no one had seen me yet, damn my showiness. I looked around the Bar on all seven planes and made a few rather interesting observations the strangest of which was that the Bar itself had a lifeforce.

Since I seemed to have been called here but with no obvious master I decided to wait around a while and see what happened. I headed to the Bar and ordered a drink which appeared as if nowhere but on the seventh plane I could see the tendrils of the Bar reaching back from the glass it had just served me. I took my glass in hand and waited to see what would materialize next.

Ptolemy was a small Egyptian boy and one of my previous masters.

highking.livejournal.com

Peter's been feeling at loose ends lately. Faintly grumpy loose ends, at that, and that brings him back into the bar.

He's got a table, a bottle of water, and a coin that he's spinning idly. It's not anything special--it's an old British shilling, but it doesn't look old, because in some sense it isn't. London Below at work again. He found it in the sofa of a common room in the House of Arch.

Whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Heads?

smthingiknow.livejournal.com

It's a big day, for Henry. Flying 2,443 miles with your entire life in order to start a whole new one in a city you've only seen in film is worth being labeled as at least a dramatic change, if not the pejorative 'stupid' Charlie kept giving it.

One rolling suitcase being led in each hand, laptop bag slung behind him over one shoulder, Henry is one of the last passengers to pick up their bags off the luggage carousel. He takes a moment for a calming breath, reaches up quickly to push up his heavy glasses, and walks through the glass doors toward the streets of New York...

...And finds himself staring at a bar.

"New York is...different than I'd imagined."

takiena_called

Finn is restless tonight—it’s not too obvious by his general demeanor (wary, as always, and tense)—but he only settles in one place for no more than a half an hour before getting up and moving away—whether it be out doors (from which he arrives back fairly promptly) or across the room.

If he had something in between his hands he’d be playing with it, but mostly he is trying to reacquaint himself with being around people and really not enjoying it.

[OOC: If your pup is experiencing amnesia, please ping me at TLvop before tagging; your pup can tag Finn from wherever inside/out—he’s all over the place]

notboundnow.livejournal.com

Dang, but it's hot in Chicago today. Sticky, too-bright, overcast, no wind.

A fine day for getting dirty.

Prometheus saunters in, leather jacket and all despite the above. His jeans are a little mud-spattered, but pay no mind. He's not.

Anyway, if it's good enough for the water buffalo, it's good enough for a Titan -- ain't that right?

10:43 Central *flibbertyflails!* Good grief, it is hot here. My brain is shutting down of lack of A/C -- not to mention that little button on my alarm clock that says I need to be up in seven hours. Love you all very muchly -- all threading with Prometheus tonight, tags will be picked up again tomorrow! Pinkie swear.

keyblade-girl.livejournal.com

She's been waiting for the door to open for several days now - hoping that any time she opens the door to her house, it will lead to the Bar. When it doesn't, she allows herself a moment of disappointment, then suppresses it. The door has prooven before, that it will open when it pleases, not at her whim - much as she might like it to be otherwise.

Finally, after 22 (yes, she'd counted, though you'd never get her to admit it) failed attempts - the door to the Bar reappeared.

So of course she stepped through it.

After all, two of the most important things in her life can often be found here.

She locates a free table and sits down.

He'll be here. Won't he?

She bites her lip and waits.

hippodamio

There have been many, many visitors to the Palace today, and hektor has had to sit through all of their attentions. If he had not been trained in the art of patience since boyhood, it would have ended poorly; even so, he is still more than a little relieved to find, at day's end, that the door opens not onto his rooms but the Bar. "Lady," he says, bowing more deeply to the Bar than ever, "you will not find me wanting for gratitude. This you may have, now, and with my gratitude."

He takes off the belt he has been wearing today, tooled leather dyed a deep, rich blue, studded with bronze and set with polished stones here and there. "I shall bring you wine again when next I arrive," he promises, "but please, accept this offering for the moment, if that is all right."

When the belt is gone he orders half a bannock with honey, and moves to find himself somewhere suitable to sit. Beltless he may be, but the rest of his garb is some of his best, and it probably would not do to sit too close to the fire for fear of the odd spark.

not_that_spike

[ OOM: happy birthday ]

guppy_sandhu

There's a young doctor curled up in the corner with his head on his knees.

He wants his mind back.

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

Archie's in the bar again tonight, taking the late shift once again. He doesn't mind, he likes it when it's a little quieter, means he can chat a little more than the busy shifts where you have to stay far more alert, in case of any trouble. No, he likes the night shifts, they suit him just fine.

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

A decidedly pale young man has sort of-- of wilted into the bar. His arms are draped across it and his head is on those, in a tired looking slump. He looks nearly boneless, in the manner certain cats do. It's hot where he's living right now.

His head is turned to one side so he can watch people go by. If you catch his eye, he'll give you a smile, even though his nose and cheeks are sunburned.

Stupid summer.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry is outside, sitting on a rock. It's a very nice rock. She's got a jug of wine from somewhere. (It reminds her of Héctor Barbossa.) No glasses, but she'll be delighted to share. If you're cute enough there might even be Jell-O shots!