milliways_bar | Jul. 8th, 2007

Jul. 8th, 2007

[OOM: Meg comes back to the bar briefly from her Ambergeldan vacation, and finds herself offering to do Andrew a favor in the romance department. . .

Look, as far as she's concerned, at least Andrew and Sam Winchester make a better couple than Andrew and River Tam.]

much.livejournal.com

[OOM: Heart and Hind - Much returns to the woods to find that life after love is no longer as simple as it used to be.]

sighteddancer.livejournal.com

((OOM: Yautja clans are nomadic and roam frequently; it's up to the hunters to return home when they're called. And if there's a hunter that came out of nowhere that needs to meet the clan? Returning is done at the first chance. In which yautja act like yautja, Spoon acts like yautja, and we all learn the heartwarming fact that it's whether or not you're an unswayable hunter that really matters.))

bigfurryoaf.livejournal.com

An access hatch opens into the main bar, and down the ladder comes--well, fur.

Seven menacing feet of it.

The Wookie looks around, and his resulting rumble can probably be best translated as "What the kriff?!?"

"Wrrraugh mmrr gruuung mrarrg wuurffl grrrmmmm hrrrrgh mrraaaah wurrl!" I think I know why the hyperdrive's not working--there's a tapcaf where it should be.

"Yeah, no shit, fuzzball." Han is grumpy and preoccupied.

A second passes.

"Wait, what? I thought you couldn't see that!"

"Rrrrrrrrraurgh! Mrrgg frrrg grmmm brrraaauuugh!" Joke's over, meatbag! Where's the hyperdrive motivator?

"Go get one from the Bar. Do I gotta baby you every step of the way?"

Chewbacca's tone gets decidedly more testy. "Waruugh marf rrrrgg wurrerrrr! Mraugh fllrrr bruuuugh mraugh!" Can it, nerfherder! Bars don't sell motivators, and even so, I can fix it if I can find it!

"C'mon, Chewie, this ain't my fault. I ain't the one put the Bar there in the first place. It ain't gunna go away unless y'go in, anyway."

With a huff, the tower of fur moves in the general direction of the Bar. "Mraaa frmmm rrrgggg..." It's NEVER your fault... HE requisitions the part he's looking for, heads back over to the--

Where'd the ladder go?

"WWWWWRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

[A note to all those playing with--or hoping to thread with--Chewie: In quotes is the sounds coming from his mouth, as Wookiees are incapable of speaking Basic. HOWEVER, in italics, Bar will translate for Chewbacca, and those speaking to him will understand the growls kinda-sorta-telepathically. Think of it almost as a Babel fish.]

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Knox has today's paper. The headline declares, "MARONI DEFIANT!" and a second story states "BIKERS RUN RIOT IN CENTRAL CITY". There's a lot to pay attention to. But not so much that you can't bother him.

humanfridge.livejournal.com

Look who's come downstairs with his tail between his legs!

That's right folks: for the first time since he got his memory back, David Berman is lurking at a table, picking at a plate of chicken korma and willing the front door to reappear.

Please ignore the fact that he's keeping his head down. Noooo friendly Jell-o girls he's trying to avoid, none at all! What do you mean, pink cheeks? You're obviously imagining things. Yes.

notjustnarrator.livejournal.com

[ooc: This post isn't really for tagging, but if you want to, be my guest!]

The door creaks open today, revealing a rather scruffy, beaten-up version of Nick Carraway.

He glances around quickly, scanning the bar for any signs of Blodwen or Puck or anybody he doesn't want to see him in this state - which is everybody, apparently, since he darts for the stairs the second the coast is clear.

If you follow him up to his room, he may be inclined to open the door and chat.

... but he probably won't.

call-me-kick.livejournal.com

Not shortly after this, the door creaks open once more and a small child peeks her little head through the door.

Her eyes, which just so happen to bear striking resemblance to those of the man who entered not too long ago, widen and light up with an extremely high level of curiosity. Could it be?

The first step she takes inside is a tiptoed step -- the kind that children take when they're trying to avoid being caught somewhere they don't belong -- and she slowly makes her way inside just enough to shut the door with a muffled click behind her.

For a long moment she stands there looking a little too shocked for her own good, but her bewilderment changes quickly to unbridled excitement as she jumps into the air, squealing triumphantly.

"I found it!"

ambitionsbared.livejournal.com

OOM: Uzo libusa le lizwe.

You will rule this land.

The Pride Lands grow and change; Scar, on the other hand, grows and waits.

son-forgotten.livejournal.com

Benedict walks calmly through Shadow. Not really searching for anything, but restless wondering. He ends his ride in the beginning of a clearing, near the Milliways bar Establishment. To anyone nearby, it would look like he came out of nowhere, in a flash of multi-coloured light. His hope was to come in at a secluded spot, but things often are more complicated when Milliways is concerned.

not-a-wizard.livejournal.com

Telemain enters, looking rather like he was hoping to more go downstairs to breakfast than to the bar. Instead of his usual clothes, today he's in grey leggings, and a long, loose shirt. He does not have his vest. He's in soft shoes that look somewhat like house slippers instead of his usual high boots. He's currently putting on his belt.

He looks very alarmed to see the bar.

hapan-heiress.livejournal.com

The door swings open.

If one were to look through the door, they'd see an ornate palace bedroom right before they saw a man in his thrities usher a small redheaded girl through the door, put his fingers to his lips and shut the door.

She stares at the door blankly. Then puts her hands on her hips and turns around and her eyes go wide. "This isn't a closet."

How will she be able to play hide and go seek now?! That is what Mr. Social Secretary told her they were playing!

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Spoon has a large pile of weaponry. A really large, really complex pile of weaponry. Sufficiently large and complex that he's also got a Bar-offered book propped open and is tagging various bits of weaponry with coloured tape. Triggers, for instance, and settings. He'll memorize it all eventually, but accidentally setting off the plasma cannon would be bad.

The narration suggests stomping feet, or coughing, or something upon approach. He's rather focused on what he's doing right now.

...Also? Giggling.

talkback.livejournal.com

"--cool, look, lemme get some paper and a pen, there's gotta be something on--"

The young blond man who walks through the door stops just two steps in. He stares at the Bar ahead of him, then around at the tables and booths -- and then he sighs.

"Leapfrog," he finishes, but he yells this last word and glares up at the ceiling. "You gotta stop turning into a freakin' bar. We're in the middle of somethin' here!"

Still, he heads for the Bar instead of right back out the door, and gets a sheet of paper, a Sharpie and a safety pin. (And a can of Coke. What? Gotta take these opportunities when you can.)

Then he turns to leave, stops and stares at the blank wall, and lets out a few choice curse words.

Well, ain't that just freakin' awesome.

[ooc: new mun, new username, same journal and chase! :)]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

[OOM: It takes a while for the news to get out of Walls sometimes. The first whiff of it just reached EPOC's investigator.]

Wells has been busy on the farm of late. Annie took care of the goats today, which is good, 'cos Wells somehow wound up with five different messages on his damn ansaphone asking for the farrier straightaway. Emergencies, his arse. You'd think they'd learn to schedule these things properly-

Anyway, the point is, he's been busy for most of his time away from the school today, so despite an initial wash-up he smells like fire and burnt hair and horse. He'd meant to take a shower, but wound up at the Bar instead.

Frankly, right now, he could use a beer more than he could the shower, so he's going to be grumbling to himself at the Bar for a bit before going upstairs to wash properly and change.

gone_byebye

Ray's settled in at one of the tables near the door, fiddling with a heap of electronic components and wire segments. He's also got a hologram of something insanely complicated up in front of him. Squint at the right portion of it and you might well find a notation to the effect of 'Holtzmann Prototype SUS-2A', but otherwise it looks pretty much like somebody sneaked up behind an overly caffeinated MIT graduate student during a re-organization of his workbench and popped a really loud balloon to see what the student would do.

This is Ray, though. He's more than happy to put things aside to answer questions.

precocioustilda.livejournal.com

Matilda is, and has been for some time, outside the bar making fireworks.

She has a stack of filled crates already. A stack that can only be described as distressingly large.

She'll gladly talk to passersby, but the narration is afraid she's too busy to offer cookies at the moment.

slayer_fray

Mel's rubbing her neck when she comes into the bar, hair messed up and gun still un-holstered from a fight outside.

"Hey, Maplebaby," she says to Bar as she scrambles on to a barstool, "give us a beer and replaces these for me?" Empty laser cartridges are dropped onto the wooden surface and promptly replaced with new, fully charged ammo. "Thanks."

It's been one of those days when you look forward to a Security shift just for the quiet.

fighter--pilot.livejournal.com

As much fun as Shalla's new Mickey Mouse-shaped datapad is, it's still full of boring reports. And so Shalla does what many of her fellow pilots do when faced with said boring reports. She falls asleep!

At least there's no Thyne to worry about.

jokerswildwest.livejournal.com

OOM: Somewhere where the sun always shines, darkness falls.

The front door opens -- more accurately, the front door flies open, as if some unseen force has shoved it hard with the intent of banging against the wall -- and a man comes skidding through on his back, stone statue of something that looks like a cat clutched underneath one arm, Walther P99 held firm in the other. The gun is aimed at the door, even if the man's gaze is not.

There is a whirl of snow which follows him in, then the sounds of what seems like a vacuum as the air is sucked out -- glasses and dishware may rattle at the tables nearest the open doorway -- before the door is pulled shut with another solid thwack.

Leaving the man, his pistol, and yes -- his cat statue -- lying on the floor, melting snow soaking into the floorboards.

Stunned does not even begin to describe the look on his face.

(Welcome to Milliways, Mr. West.)

awesome_lilly

Lilly heard about the latest epidemic (love, not amnesia) from her BFF and not her husband/secret cause of the epidemic.

Naturally, she then promptly headed out to find said husband and demand that he hook her up with some love in idleness because he owed her for totally failing the part of marriage where you tell your spouse about your awesome mischief-making so they can help. Okay, maybe that's only Puck and Lilly's marriage. Still.

She's in the bar now, with a tiny bottle and a rather alarming smile.

[OOC: Warning! Lilly thinks she is going to get someone with the love potion. Actually, in the course of threads, she's going to accidentally splash some on her own eyes and fall in love with... well. Whoever. I'm leaving it totally up to chance. Probably there will be dice rolling or something, then love, then eventual fixing. Maybe she'll get really unlucky and it'll happen a couple of times!

So, tag away, but be aware that Lilly may fall in love with your pup if you do so!]

[ETA: Hi, finger death! Slowtimes all around!]

zapgunfh.livejournal.com

The door opens, and a tall, rather rotund man walks in. He is wearing a trench coat over some kind of uniform, and seems not the least bit surprised at finding a Bar before him. Most likely because he was looking for a bar anyway.

Buck Godot, Zap Gun for Hire, wanders over to the counter. "Ion Sucker."

The drink is delivered, already poured in a tall glass, and the big man drops a few credits on the counter. Taking a long swig, Buck turns around to watch the other patrons.

When you are a wanted man, it pays to stay alert in a new place.

ambitionsbared.livejournal.com

Even if no one had seen the body, everybody knew what had happened.

The old Lion King never allows himself to be seen when he's dying. He steals out while the rest of the pride is asleep, and vanishes into the grasslands, where he knows he won't be found.

Mufasa, for all his efforts to proceed as normal, was acting stupid and inconsolable. Scar was taking the time to be reflective. It would have been interesting to see his father dead.

When he prowls into Milliways, it takes him a moment to get his bearings. It's been a long time since his last visit, and much has happened since then. But he's on familiar enough turf, he feels, and in any event, it'll be better company than the hyenas.

"The king is dead," he intones to himself, his lips curled into a wry smile. "Long live the king."

hacker-nerd.livejournal.com

There is a thirteen-year-old girl in the bar. She's very confused, and rather scared.
She raises her right hand and starts to pinch herself. Hard.

'Well I'm not dreaming,' she thinks, 'and this is not my room.'

She tilts her head and looks at Bar. She doesn't move as she sees the occasional drink or meal appear out of nowhere, just stands there with her eyes wide and staring.

'Okay, now would be a good opportunity to freak out.'

kinshou-kitsune.livejournal.com

Where she was from it was raining- some would say it was raining cats and dogs but the little fox just smirked inwardly. You never heard of people saying it was raining cats and foxes which would have been a much better or interesting idea than a dog. Dogs didn't land on their feet.

The raspberry briars were her home for the time being. Her nice, warm and spacious den was there along with all her books and precious tidbits she had been collecting throughout her lifetime. With the dark clouds overhead the fox wanted nothing more than a glass of sake and a ricecake. Yawning wide the little white fox ducked low into an opening of a tunnel...

only to find herself still soaking wet and standing within one of the human's dwellings. Blinking her bright blue eyes suspeciously when noone seemed to be running her out, yet, she took a few hesitant steps inward. Her ears remained pressed tight to her head along with the rest of her driping wet form moving from table to table exploring what was supposed to be her home.

When about midways into the room she stoped and shook. From head to tail she sent droplets of water flying everywhere before a rather comical ball of fluff stood in the center of the room. A minute later the white fur laid back down dry as a brick and looking like she hadn't been just a wet wild animal before.

This place was going to prove interesting.

velocitygirl

[OOM: Inyri's missing some clothes, so she goes to get them from Wes' room. She leaves with the clothes and one less friend and a heart full of pain. The muns really love these two. Really.]

gramarye1971

Merriman has picked his table carefully this evening. From where he sits, he has an unobstructed view of the various doors of Milliways and a clear line of sight to the bar.

There are a few papers in front of him -- odd assortments of figures, mostly, mixed with words written in a sort of personal shorthand that is as tidy as it is illegible to the casual observer. But though he might occasionally glance down at the papers, as if studying them, his attention is focused more on the bar's patrons and less on his own work.

[OOC: Not wholly plot-locked, but those who have a specific interest in the whereabouts of the Black Pearl and her current crew will probably end up getting priority tonight.]

soapcarvedhands.livejournal.com

If you thought Harding looked bad last time he was in here, you ain't seen nothing yet.

He's even thinner, his pale hair is decidedly lank; he's gone from unhealthy to death warmed over. His fingers twist together and his eyes move back and forth likes he's expecting someone to jump out at him, brandishing a knife.

Still, as he sits uneasily at a table, he'd not be unamenable to company.

will_scarlett

Will spent last night trying to cheer up a friend and drinking rum and whiskey by a bonfire, that's why he hasn't been around most of the day.

Once he woke up, he went outside and worked on his archery for a while since there's something comforting about the sound of arrows hitting a target.

Now he's back in the Bar, his longbow back in his room and he's got a pot of tea and some scones to eat as he watches the Bar go by.

(OOC: Mun is back)

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

Jack Frost is in the bar, curled up in a sofa, reading a book. 'Dance Dance Dance' by Haruki Murakami.

He may be murmuring out loud as he does, unaware that he's doing so.

Sounds like a weird book.

victoryisboring.livejournal.com

The door swings open slowly until it bangs into the wall. A tall girl stands in the rain, dripping. She looks rather disgusted: first at being caught in the rain, and then at finding herself in this place again. Still, when her choices are to either stand and get (more) soaked, or walk into a interdimensional bar full of really weird people, it's a close call, but the bar wins out.

"You found it, Mai!" A smaller girl turns a cartwheel through the door and into the bar. "And just at the right time, too! You're so smart!"

There is no way that Mai is dignifying that with a response. She just closes her eyes with a wince and walks silently into the bar.

[OOC: Feel free to tag Mai, Ty Lee, or both! Just let us know.]

explorertruman.livejournal.com

Truman had been working on the Guide earlier, but now he was slumped on one of the couches. Fast asleep. Luckily he's one of those deep, no snore types of sleepers, and would just occasionally move a little to shift positions.

steadfastknight

Kitt had told Enzo he would help the people of his system with the viral invasion. The difficulty with that was, not only was he his own system, but he knew that his own ability to enter Milliways was random. That meant he'd have to stay in the bar until it was time for them to go. And yet, as far as he felt, that was just fine. He needed some time away from the real world (for all he wished Michael was there with him), and he had to work on a way to get himself into Mainframe without harming his code. Bonnie probably would've known a better way, but she wasn't there. And it was better if she didn't know.

So he worked on a little handheld he'd managed to get from the Bar, writing code with a stylus on a touchscreen. He had lemonade on one side, and a plate of tiny White Castle burgers on the other.

Every now and then, a new ring gleamed on his finger, catching the light just so.

Some things had apparently gone right.

ratatouiller.livejournal.com

[pre-milliways: Once Remy hops into the fridge, it isn't eggs or old curded milk that he finds but...something else. Some place else.]

The door opens and a small little rat bursts forth. He stands on his two hind legs for a moment, peering around curiously, nose twitching. Then he begins to scurry across the wooden floor (expertly dodging the large feet of some of the patrons in order to avoid being trampled) until he sees a bar table up ahead, lined with stools.

Quickly and carefully, he climbs up the length of a bar stool until all four feet find the mahogany surface.

"Remy!"

The rat yelps. "What? What?" A floating little Gusteau is beside him and he lets out an exasperated sigh. "Is this going to become a regular thing with you?"

"Where are you?" the deep-voiced, chubby little chef booms, floating from his left to his right. "What eez thees place?"

"I don't know. It looks like a bar, but that's impossible, right? To find a bar in a fridge?"

There is a pause, and Remy turns to the translucent rotund chef. The boisterous man shrugs easily, floating back a bit. "I do not know! I am only a figment of your imagination."

seeks-sixfinger.livejournal.com

You know what? Being the greatest swordsman and most feared pirate in your world can be tiring.

Which may be why Inigo, sitting in a booth, seems to have nodded off.

Maybe he ought to be woken up.

[OOC: At least one continuity will be love in idleness-ed Inigo, but I am amenable to others.]

called_lioness

[OOM: Love means that you say things even if they hurt if it's that or lie by default.

Sometimes you might wish it were otherwise.

And mere wishing never changed anything.

Especially not when it's anything to do with good-byes.]

scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com

Norrington went back to his room after the conversation with Doc Scurlock yesterday, to think about what he was told - and help the process along with his stash of rum. He went up the bypass stairs, therefore missing that his door was back.

He came down two minutes ago. He hasn't missed it now.

As predicted, the next sight is Norrington racing across the room, not even bothering to go back for any of his possessions. It's a good thing he's dressed as he was when he arrived from Beckett's office.

The door closes behind him.

morelikeasponge.livejournal.com

[OOM: Just another day.]

This is what happens: one moment he's drifting lazily toward sleep, and the next he's opening a door he hasn't touched in five years.

It takes him a moment to remember the name. Milliways.

He nearly goes invisible, out of long habit, but another moment and he can remember (dimly) that there are people here who can sense invisibility. And if they know you're there anyway, being invisible is more conspicuous.

So he starts moving toward the lake door.

taishar_malkier

One of Nynaeve's herb beds is dying; a complication, perhaps, of trying to grow Valdemaran plants in London Below soil. Nynaeve reacts to difficulties with any patient and any plant rather similarly: with braid-yanking, scowling, and deep irritation with the world at large.

Which means that Lan, despite being immune to most of this irritation, has elected to take the diplomatic course and leave her to stomp around the greenhouse in peace for a while. Instead, he went to practice swordwork by the lake, for his own benefit and that of either of his students who might come by, and has now settled down in the main bar with a cup of wine punch.

And, as ever, an impassive scrutiny of the room at large.

He's wearing his Warder's cloak today, and the magically shifting camouflage makes parts of his back and shoulders appear to blend briefly into the chair and wall behind him.

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

Wesley is down in the bar, reading by the fire. Tonight it's nothing heavy--just some ghost tales by Algernon Blackwood. The last few weeks have been devoted to more translation, and he's had enough of it for one evening.

There's also the matter of his recent conversation with Fred, which went perfectly well, and yet--something about it weighs on his mind.

In any case, for now a book and a scotch are all he cares to focus on.

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

Depending on when you caught him:

A) Nathan was walking in the bar, debating on a drink. Door vanished a few days ago yet again, so been stuck in a literal holding pattern once again. Considering his options.

B) Changed his mind on the drink, and heading out back towards the lake, ocean, whatever the hell it was now. Wanting to get some fresh air. Debating on much air to get, also.

un_fallen

July, 2520.

Against all expectations, Raguel did, in fact, make it that long.

'If I roast marshmallows over their bodies, do you think God will still find their souls?'

He's given an assignment.

scurlock

Doc's upstairs in his room. There's a candle burning next to the two cranes on the dresser. His eyes are distant, as he writes notes. He's leaving again.

( Will )

( Billy )

( Captain Sparrow )

( Mister Lyon )

He finishes the notes, then stands and blows out the candle. He gathers his things and his guns and then dons his hat. The notes are left with Bar, along with some more coins towards his tab, and then he's moving for the doorway, and into the New York City night without a second glance back. He'll be back. He knows it.

[ooc: Doc will be back. Any threads with him still in Bar are still in slowtimes, so don't worry, he just needs a minor canon jump. No tags, please, unless you want your pup to react to him leaving or get their note, but he's gone.]

action-antihero.livejournal.com

[OOM: July 17, 2012; 11:48am

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

--Bob Dylan, "Masters of War"]