milliways_bar | Jun. 28th, 2007

Jun. 28th, 2007

[OOM: In his room, Will remembers]

When the light is just starting to appear in the sky, Will comes down to the Bar, looking worn and tired, he speaks to Bar, dropping two rings on her surface and writing a note.

Then he goes back upstairs holding a bouquet of vibrant wildflowers.

( For Marian )

weeper-of-blood.livejournal.com

It's been almost a week since he woke up with a complete lack of memory, sprawled out on his sofa with a book over his face and not even a name to go by.

Things haven't changed much since then. He's still not entirely sure who he is, but after watching a very informative film by the name of Casino Royale, he's come to assume he's an actor with a penchant for playing bad guys. He can deal with that.

For today he's comfortably lounging on a sofa by the fire and reading one of the several novels from the James Bond series, but not adverse to a bit of company. He's done away with the usual suits in favour of casual jeans and a t-shirt, and it appears as if he hasn't tended to his hair for a fair few days judging by its flyaway look.

It's thankfully one of the last times he'll be seen scruffy, happy and polite.

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry's sitting at the bar, happily draining a series of plastic water jugs. As ever, she'd be entirely accepting of company, most especially company of the attractive male variety.

futures_of_ash

There was a security member in the Bar. She was taking up three or four bar stools as her fingers lifted to gently play along Bar's woodgrain. She didn't seem to be anything but calm; carefully, casually calm...

...but standing near her felt as if the world was swinging from beneath ones feet. As if gravity were reversed...

She was having a bad day it seemed.

slayer_fray

It's not always obvious to people who cant' see past the red metal blade of demonic death stuck on Mel's back, but this Slayer and thief carries and uses two weapons. That one, and the big red zap gun that deals with problems in a considerably less terminal way.

And of her two weapons, it's this decidedly non-magical one that requires the most upkeep, which is why she's sitting at the very end of the bar, having dismantled it at the main points, and giving it a very thorough clean.

It probably needs it a little less than she does.

hero_farmboy

Clark is sitting outside today, not too far from the lake, enjoying the morning breeze. And the sunlight, of course.

He's resigned himself to wearing the flannel that dominates his existing wardrobe, as he finally caught sight of the tabs board yesterday and his is getting up there, so new clothes are definitely out of the question. Especially since he hasn't been able to find any money in his room. But that's a problem for later.

For the time being, Clark's getting in some practice with his hearing. And the x-ray vision, which is actually pretty cool once you get the hang of it. Here's hoping the heat vision doesn't decide to show up without warning. Inadvertently frying unsuspecting patrons would probably be frowned upon.

gone_byebye

Ray is entirely too happy this morning for it to mean anything good, or at least anything safe. He has a Mission. He has a Technical Issue. He has a Universal Temporal Entropic Gradient to swim against and a Door to transmit across.

He has an Excuse Not To Be In The Same World As Walter Peck.

... he's going to be in Milliways for a while, yeah. If you see him at his table, surrounded by scribbled-on papers and stacks of toothpick boxes, copper wire, and gum, say hi. And consider correcting his math, since his inventions have that regrettable tendency to come within striking distance of blowing up a significant chunk of local spacetime if used improperly.

good-witch-tara.livejournal.com

Tara bounds down the stairs and does a little spin before making her way to the bar. "One hot chocolate please. And...add a shot of brandy this time." She's feeling a little...vixeny today. The hot chocolate materializes in front of her, topped with whipped cream. She takes a sip and looks around the bar.

callitavesper.livejournal.com

James Bond has been spending some quality time with his friend, Bill Tanner.

This is because lunch at HQ is a better alternative to stopping by an empty apartment when Sarah Jane is traveling, and an even better alternative to eating in a bar full of memory wiped zombies. The universe, sadly, has conspired against him this afternoon, duping a lunch-killing workload on Mr. Tanner and presenting Mr. Bond with unsavory food options in the canteen. It is with utter reluctance that Bond slips into the bar today, hungry and hoping the latest epidemic is over. What he hopes for the most is that last night's strange encounter with Le Chiffre will not be repeated. Ever.

Bond claims a booth for himself, complete with requisite coffee and newspaper, and a bonus additional lunch (also a bonus additional "I do not want to be here" scowl).

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

Remy was still not!sulking, the fact that he was in a booth by himself with only a rapidly-cooling cup of coffee was testament to that.

He'd finally worn himself out the day before and had come back into the bar only to go home and sleep.

He was back now though, and would probably appreciate someone to talk to, if you can deal with the angst.

gondolin-noble.livejournal.com

Glorfindel does not often come into the bar anymore, but that is hardly his fault. He has come today, however, and straight from the armory, warbow in hand and quiver slung over one shoulder. He had, of course, meant to go to the range, but it seems that is not in store for him today.
With a small, 'what can you do' shrug, he strolls out back to see if he can't find a suitable place out there.

sosectu-rior.livejournal.com

Ilyana's been home, the last few days. She'd had a lot of thinking to do, and she needed to feel safe. That was a luxury she rarely had, and she accepted the necessity; but sometimes even a House's leader needed simply to let herself rest and let her guard down.
Her family, particularly Kellin, were good for her. His innocent laugh could lift almost any worry, she'd found.

She had hesitated, when she found the door to her house's storeroom opening to the bar.
After a moment, she'd accepted the 'dare'. Now she's in a chair by the fireplace, a sleepy infant cuddled in her arms, his head pillowed on her shoulder. She'd welcome company.

Current Mood: contemplative

quiet-thing.livejournal.com

There's one door, pristine and white, in a polar academy. It should open into another room in the academy, just as clean as the door, just as carefully maintained.

Instead, it opens into Milliways. And Milliways isn't the room that's expected. It's loud, it's cluttered, and it is far, far away from the polar regions of Telos.

The tall, pale woman who stepped through looks shocked, then turns back to the door, white robes swirling around her feet. Possibly she's still in her retreat, with a holocron responsible for this ... place.

But the door's gone.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

Two for one sale on amnesiac guys.

One's a NY politician who can literally taking things to new heights. He's sitting at a table, still trying to remember his life. And wondering why the exploding stars outside kind of rattle him so much.

The other's a wizard who's a sort of reforming git. Sitting at another table, and having no interest in getting his memories back. He seemed content other than trying to remember spells.

Catch them before the cookies do or don't.

angela-edmunds.livejournal.com

Angela is, as Melou suggested to her, eating a burger and some fries, drinking a Coke, and reading.

She is still rather worried about what would happen if she didn't get her memories back. But it was so pleasant here, and it would all work out for the best, Angela was sure. What was the point of worrying?

So she looks like she's in a pretty good mood! However, she still has no memories of the past sixteen years, so she might not know you if you talk to her.

obnoxiousadams.livejournal.com

The door swings open and John Adams steps in, grinning smugly as he straightens his jacket.

It is, perhaps, one of those rare moments when Mr. Adams is caught in what normal people would call a "good mood", mostly due to the fact that he actually won an argument with Franklin. (An eagle it should be, and an eagle it will be! A turkey, honestly, what was Franklin thinking?)

The fact that Congress also just read the Declaration aloud and voted in favor of it, well, that may also have something to do with his mood.

He strides over to Bar and beams as he places a pile of paper bills down on her, then turns and announces, very loudly:

"Americans, come celebrate your independence with a drink on John Adams!"

Even though it hasn't been signed yet, John's got a very good feeling that it will be very soon.

... and this, ladies and gentlemen, proves that anything can happen at the end of the Universe.

[ooc: Feel free to have your pup just get a drink - speaking with John isn't a requirement. ;D

Also, am calling slowtime at 8:47 PM EST - will be back for tags soon!]

dontloselight.livejournal.com

Cloud is in the bar with a drink. He is situated at a table by himself, arms crossed as he leans back, looking oddly relaxed. His sword is sitting by him, tip pointed to the floor. It's a huge thing and one is likely to notice it if they pass by him.

There is no real reason why he's here; of course, there is no reason why he shouldn't be.

In any case, he's the quiet sort, but he's not unfriendly. Feel free to come and strike up a conversation.

mandercommander.livejournal.com

Amnesia comes with odd problems...like not knowing which doors not to open.

This would, in fact, be the case with Bonzo/Bruck. Nobody told him not to open that door, and there was nobody stopping him.

A few minutes pass by...in the Bar, that is...

And then he returns. Two months and a few minutes older, and wondering just how this place ended up in the bathroom.

realmrsreynolds

"Ow. Ow."

In comes one Sallie Reynolds, nursing her left wrist. Moving to the Bar, she leans forward slightly after claiming a barstool:

"Can I get a packet o' ice, please?"

No actual physical ice cubes per se, but a gel-filled cold pack appears, and Sallie picks it up and holds it against her wrist.

Now she's debating whether to go to the infirmary before or after getting a drink to calm herself.

abar-starclog.livejournal.com

Carl's at a table, and still working on that programming thing.
Yes, he's stopped to eat and sleep every now and again, but... programming. More than anything else, messing around with computers is what he loves. Of course, it'd be another thing if he could tell whether he were making any prog--
"Oh, so that's how that's working. Okay, I get it now."
...Or maybe he is making some progress.

creator_raven

Somewhere, at a table, there is a plate. And a glass.

On this plate there are cookies. In the glass there is a milkshake.

They are very good cookies, regardless of whether they are solid or not.

Just looking at them almost makes you want to eat them.

Almost.

Choices are tricky things, after all.

That is why Raven is fond of them.

Possibly the people who are wandering around in an amnesiac haze will be fond of them, too.

Possibly.

[ooc: Tag in here to have your pup eat a cookie and get his/her/its memory back!]

wheelsy_sheriff

Bill has a cookie. Mmmm...cookie.

Sadly cookies don't last very long and Bill's cookie is soon gone. In it's place he's got a headrush full of memories which are not good like cookie. Infact they are bad. Very bad. Because Bill can now compare the last few days to the rest of his life and the results leave Bill in trouble. Big trouble.

So he orders a bottle and glass and sits at a table trying to figure out just what the hell he's going to do.

hippodamio

It has been some days on the other side of the door since Hektor last left Milliways, and to his great relief there have been no repetitions of the events that drove him here. Probably Priam has run out of local nobles with daughters, or else he wants to set the hook in a few prospective jaws; in either case he has not asked his queen's oldest son to sit through another day of being considered.

Today he has come to the Bar on purpose, having spent long enough at study and practice and work with the horses to satisfy any two other lads his age. He made promises when last he came, both to the Bar and to another patron, and he makes good on them both; the first is done by means of an amphora of wine, and the second by . . . well, he does not see Will Turner straightaway, so for the moment he will set the spear and the rest of his arms aside. They will take no harm in the place next to him at the table, he thinks.

k_in_black

Agent K strides through the Front Door and scans the bar without breaking a step. He comes to a halt in front of the table where a still amnesiac Agent Zed is scribbling notes about this 'asylum for stage magicians' he’s stumbled upon.

K eyes Zed for a few seconds, then shakes his head and walks over to Bar.

"Evenin', Darlin'." Which is all it takes for Zed's equipment, including his neuralyzer, to appear.

(Of course, Agent K hasn't been in the bar for weeks, but those Men in Black just have a way of knowing things.)

K scoops up the small pile of shiny black tech, and by the time he's back at Zed's table, K already has his shades on and the neuralyzer properly adjusted--despite having had both hands full (probably best not to ask).

"Chief."

Zed looks up, "Wha--?"

*FWOOMP*

"....."

".........!!!!!!"

And now there are two Men in Black in the bar. One standing carefully silent and the other bellowing and roaring at the top of his rather substantial lungs about trick apples and "fucking nuthouses."

seeks-sixfinger.livejournal.com

Inigo missed out on the whole amnesia thing, and really, the multiverse is probably just as well off for not having had an Inigo Montoya who couldn't remember his name in it.

So as he makes his way into the bar tonight, he's cheerful. A bit bored, perhaps, but he knows better than to hope for too much excitement in this place.

howl-alone.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways]

The door opens, and a nine-foot tall cat with a broken horn in the center of his forehead steps through. He's dressed in straps and bits of armor, and carrying a halberd scaled to his size. When he sees where he's come, his mood shifts from pre-occupied concern to unamused surprise.

You'd have to know a lot about Ronso body language to tell that, though; to anyone else, he goes on looking like a face carved from furry stone.

necessary_child

Lucifer's still rather confused about this whole amnesia thing. And a little upset, but mostly just confused. The room Bar had given him a key to had been filled with clothing he didn't recognise, but he couldn't go home and there was no way he was going to carry on wearing his archangel's uniform- it's a bloody daft getup and he's always said so.

So he's sitting in an armchair by the fire, knees drawn up to his chin like a kid. Bare feet, black cords and, for once, a white t-shirt, looking somehow young, thoughtful and rather lost.

[OOC: Last chance to get an amnesia!Sam before the cookies do!]

taishar_malkier

There are a few things Milliways is good for.

Thinking. Listening. Monitoring.

And truly excellent food, which Lan considers a nice but minor detail.

He's settled in an armchair with a good view of the room, working his way slowly through a bowl of beef and vegetables and rice cooked Domani-style: sliced small, in a pale tangy sauce, and eaten with sursa. (Better known around here as chopsticks, though Lan doesn't know that.)

It's slow, because he's in no hurry, and because he's focused on the room and his thoughts more than the food.

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

After he took a cookie, he took a large bite at his table.

It was a good thing he was sitting down as everything flew back into place. Everything. Including events from the past month at home.

His shoulders seem to sink marginally as the weight of the world set in again.

bringonthewonder

Angela settles into a comfortable chair, sips her cocoa, anf then takes a bite of the cookie she picked up on her way over.

There's a long moment, in which she mostly looks confused and overwhelmed.

And then Angela, being Angela (again), does the only thing she could possibly do.

She throws her head back and laughs.

fryertuck

The Door flies open with a bang.

Framed by the doorway is a certain technogeek, who (despite there being no floor on the other side) is standing with feet apart, arms akimbo, and generally looking as dramatically macho as a scrawny, bespectacled teenager in a red beret can.

"Step aside!" he declares to the room at large, striding over the threshold. "Tucker Foley has some world-saving to do!"

Then he stops and glances back over his shoulder. "Who'm I looking for again?"

Current Mood: productive

angsty-spider.livejournal.com

Peter also has a cookie. With glass of milk.

He started to nibble on the cookie. Memories began to trickle into his head. OH God, this was bad.

He chugged the milk and finished the cookie.

Where was Ravin?!!!

gorgonfondness

[OOM: Looks like Ben owes Mia a cheesecake. Rated D for Don't Expect Draco Or Mia In The Bar Tonight.]

conglomerelda

Elda is outside. She is perched carefully on one of the rocks near the lake. She has a dim magelight, a book, and a spyglass. She is apparently practicing her astronomy or astrology.

The sky seems to be cooperating, as she is not concentrating on how things work here, just observing.

queenofmay

[OOC: Marian took a cookie, and found the full truth of herself came not as a wave, but as a magnifying glass to what happened without one.]

Back in a proper gown again and no longer sporting a name-number tag, Marian walked into the Bar with tea in mind.

Because tea made life better, even when things weren't specifically wrong. When ordered a plethora of things appeared, which she piled on to the proper tea set, and then went in search of a cozy little table near the Lake window. Once that was found, she poured herself a cup of tea and settled in comfortably to read her mail.

She opened the first note, reading it with an expression of sadness and ire, which softened as she exchanged it for the second note to a tenderly shy almost smile. Folding and setting down both, she tucked the heart stone into her dress and sniffed the white May Lilies again.

Things will be interesting for a while, but then they always are; and, no matter what, there really is no place like home.

There are extra cups on the tea setting and she would not mind company at all.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

Ginny is at the bar. She looks around a bit. She considers ordering then just scratched Arnold a bit as he sits beside her on the bar.

There is a tongue sneaking out of the Pygmy Puff coming to her nose. She smacks him lightly

"No Arnold mind your manners"

gotapenny.livejournal.com

When Luz had decided to go back to Holland with the rest of Easy Company, he was quite surprised to find that his door was gone. There was a itchy at the back of his mind it probably had something to do with his fight with Bill Pardy the night before Will's party. Not that he didn't mind the extra little vacation time, but he needed to get back.

The sooner he could get back the sooner he could go home, find Gwen and..pausing as he pulled the darts of out the board he frowned. Milliways just kept making this awkward.

Thus the paratrooper in his m43's goes back to practicing his darts on a board off to the side of the room. Feel free to join in if anyone wishes too.