milliways_bar | Jul. 10th, 2007

Jul. 10th, 2007

kinshou-kitsune.livejournal.com

It had been quite a while since Inari had been by the ocean. She loved the salty sea air and the feel of the wind upon her face. The feeling of her toes diging into the warm sand was just as comforting as being deep within the woodlands of her home.

She jumped and yipped as she played with the waves trying to catch them with her paws without actually becoming wet. It was like chase but with just her, Fujin the god of wind, and Ryūjin the god of the sea. It was true she was much younger than them which complimented her antics quite well.

Come and play! The water is nice and the air just right! A perfect day for a game of tag.

scurlock

[oom: in which Doc finds out that Yen loves him more than he thought she could]

futures_of_ash

There was a security member pacing along the bar. Forward, back, forward, back. Despite the lingering, harsh appearance of deprivation, she moved like a panther, or a large predator, too smooth and contained to set anyone at ease.

Occasionally she paused, muscles shivering in mid-step as she turned a glowing gaze upon Bar herself. What ever passed between the mothering chunk of wood and the security member was left up to the imagination as she went back to pacing.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

[OOM: Nobody's home in Walls. Nobody's home at all. Which makes the investigation that much weirder...]

Wells is in a fair mood today, more so than usual, so he's not in any particular need of the punching bag or the firing range. He still wants to keep ahead of the girls, though, which means working on skills of his he can measure properly against theirs. So there's a good hefty target set up in the stretch of open land he uses for the target range, but he's not shooting at it. No, today's a day for throwing knives, over and over until he gets it right.

His standards may be a little higher than most, considering who he works with, so he may be out here for some time.

hippodamio

When the door opens from the Citadel in Troy, Hektor does not look much as if he wants to step through; but it would be unwise to ignore the call of the goddess, and so he enters Millways anyway. His bow is a little short, a little pained. "Lady," he says to the Bar, "I have no offering to make you this day. All that I had set aside to bring, I have had to give instead to Apollo, to turn his wrath aside from my sister. I would not rob you of what I owe, but I cannot bring you anything until I have returned home and the matter of my sister is settled."

The Bar does not seem very much upset with this. Indeed, when his words are done she offers him the mid-day meal, although he had not asked for it. He murmurs his thanks and turns to find somewhere that he might sit with it, without being overrun by thoughts.

mago_sonriente

This entry could describe how he's soaked with sweat, every curve of muscle outlined by the thin white t-shirt. It could talk about how his hair is shining and wet, curling enticingly at the nape of his neck. It could even talk about the grit and the dirt that only served to make the white teeth of his smile sparkle.

That said, he is way too exhausted for that ^@$%.

Which is why as soon as he drags his carcass in to the bar proper, he tumbles into a booth and sort of lays there for a while, waiting for the blessed touch of Willis Haviland Carrier's greatest invention. What, in Carlos's opinion right this moment, is the greatest invention in ever.

Except maybe beer. Or even just cold liquid. Cold anything.

Feel free to prod the overheated 'corpse'. He'll get back to being the most attractive man in the bar after he's had something to drink. Hopefully, a rat will take pity on him.

good-witch-tara.livejournal.com

Tara comes down the stairs, tripping on the last one and nearly doing a face plant into the floor. She recovers quickly and brushes herself off, glancing around to see if anyone noticed her stumble. She smiles at the few people who look up from their drinks and proceeds to the bar. "Coffee, please. Dark as the night, sweet as a kiss."

poisonwine

(millitimed to the evening)

Belle stumbled into Bar, laughing and dancing. Her steps were a bit unsteady, and she seemed to be reacting to people who weren't really there.

Plus, she was wearing what could only generously be called clothing. Mostly it was jewelry that happened to cover up everything. Most of the way, anyway. The gold snake mask dangled from her hand, and even her skin glowed with a golden tint. Her hair was twisted and braided back, with forget-me-nots wound through it.

After a couple of minutes, she wanders over to the Bar, still humming and looking very, very smug, winking and flirting with people who are, and aren't, there.

(Slows possible, as mun is sick)

silentson.livejournal.com

And once again, the door opens to let in Joseph. It's been a few days, and he seems rather surprised. He was supposed to be visiting Bludhaven with his sister, there was this little coffee shop Dick had told him about, but now-

Well, once here, why not enjoy it? He glances back out the door, nodding to himself, then closes it behind him. No need for Rose to get dragged into this place quite yet. She'd probably kill someone.

As he begins to walk across the room, his gaze finds itself drawn upwards, to look at the window once more. It's just so danged amazing. All that ending and- Is that a crack? He stands there, his neck back, his face caught between wonder and horror. Had that ALWAYS been there?

oldtownman.livejournal.com

( Dwight was in trouble... )

((ooc: Two muns! Two Pups! Tag at will for possible slowtime and fun!))((Warning for possible adult matters in comments and definite adult situations in the Dwight/Gail alone thread...))

3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com

((OOM: Back in mid-May, three girls bantered by the lake. Featuring girl-on-girl wrestling, babies in triplicate, discussion of breasts and sex goo, and Goldy showing off some child-rearing skills that no-one knew she had.))

wildfire-eyes.livejournal.com

Wencit has been in the bar for a while now. In deference to the various patrons he has kept his power wrapped tightly around himself; a man blazing with mystical energy wandering around isn't precisely conducive to a relaxed meal or a deep conversation.

So to most, other than his eyes he appears to be little more than an old man, and even those who see more than most are unlikely to grasp the full extent of what it means to be what Wencit is. Yet holding all that power in check is no easy task, and certainly not relaxing.

This is why today Wencit climbed the mountain behind the bar. Once he felt far enough away he gave a brief word of thanks to whoever had placed a mountain where it certainly should not be and relaxed for the first time in a long time. For one brief moment he stands revealed: perhaps the most powerful wizard ever born to his world, and the one who holds the final spells fashioned by the Council of Ottovar.

He carefully wraps his power around him once more, becoming nothing more than an old wizard, and descends the mountain to take up a place by the lake. Staring out over the shimmering water, lost in his thoughts.

[ooc: Feel free to catch Wencit at any point on his little trek.]

slayer_fray

Outside, Mel is taking advantage of the fact that she has no job to run and it's not her Security shift for once by enjoying the brand new sea view as she lies on her back on a rise of turf. Her boots are off and discarded to one side with her weapons, and her toes are lacing happily through the grass.

It's been a miserable summer by the lake so far, and she's enjoying a warm day for once. Though someone from the past might want to remind her about sunscreen

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

[OOM: Millitimed to sometime shortly after the Doctor got back. Sarah Jane goes to tell him the not-so-new-news anymore about her and James. Rated A for awww and MS for massive slowtime!]

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

She has no idea just how long she's been gone. But at some point, a couple of weeks ago shortly after seeing the Doctor again in Milliways, Sarah Jane had decided that it was time to travel again with the Doctor. Her Doctor, to be exact, the one with the curly hair and the scarf and the one, who just like the one in Milliways, will always be a best friend.

So, when Sarah walks in to the bar today, it's for the first time in weeks. But she's not entirely aware of that. Instead, there's a smile on her face and laughter in her features as the door closes behind her.

"Doctor?" she asks when she turns around, expecting to be in the library with the Doctor behind her. But she isn't, and it takes Sarah a couple of moments to realise just exactly where it is she's wound up.

The grin returns quickly.

runmakitarun.livejournal.com

[OOM: Things not spoken of.

Makita spends some quality time with her father. She feels lucky to still have one, especially since he's so wonderful.]

synapse-circuit.livejournal.com

"There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter."

J.C., who read only a little Hemmingway in middle and high school, cared nothing for it at the time and has largely forgotten it since, does not know this quotation. But if he did he would feel, with deep dread and self-loathing, that it applies to him. He is no murderer, no sadist, no maniac or sociopath, but he has hunted men and enjoyed it. He's gotten high on the rush of adrenalin, felt the keen, Zenlike focus of his senses in battle-readiness, and exulted in his skill and speed.

Since he got here, though, there have been no hunts, no missions. This morning J.C. finally admitted to himself that having nothing to hide from or shoot at was driving him crazy. His skills and his very nature demand to be used. Or, if you want to be perfectly blunt about it - and he is - he needs a fix.

This doesn't mean he's going to pick a fight with anyone, much less stalk them and shoot them on the sly. That would just be as stupid as it is wrong. Instead he's stalking around in the woods - the deep, dangerous part of the woods - equipped with his usual sidearm, knife and concealed revolver, as well as a wrist-mounted minicrossbow. He's heard that there are some nasty things here, and right now, he's hoping that one of them will just try to start something.

young_gun_billy

Billy is still around. He's decided to explore a bit and take in the sites of the end of the universe. So far it's pretty good. Right now he's experimenting with Bar.

First he recieves a note from Doc. He reads it with a smirk and tucks it away, "Sure thing Doc." That laugh and smile he gives says he might not be taking the note to heart.

Next he asks for random things he can think of. He gets a piece of pie. A glass of iced tea. Even a bowler derby hat like the one John Tunstall gave him appears. She won't give him any bullets or guns though. Wonder why.

Oh well, he'll just have to make do with the one's he has on him. They sit in thier holsters on his hips as he admires the hat. "I think I just might like it here."

alwaysroomforhope

[OOM: Suite 132: Steph makes a decision, with a little help from her friends.]

Millitimed, obviously, to before this.

jokerswildwest.livejournal.com

Alex comes downstairs fully intending to leave Milliways. However, upon opening the door, he's met with a wall of frigid snow, ice, and stone. He scuffs the toe of a worn combat boot against the base, and when that merely gets a few shavings of ice and dirt on the floor, he sighs and pushes the door shut.

Lesson. He can see the door but he's not able to leave. He can open the door, but he's not able to leave. His world outside is preventing that. Damn lessons.

So there is a slightly-resigned-to-his-fate Mr. West sitting in the bar, at a table near the door, with a deck of cards, sandwich, and a beer. He's playing solitare. Why?

Because what else are you supposed to do when you can't go home?

amazongeneral.livejournal.com

((Out of (and into and back out of) Milliways: ~~If a door is to open, another must close.~~ wait, someone else already used that. Uhh, cheese?))

hearthethoughts.livejournal.com

Caution is the name of the game for a Director of Homeland Security. That would be why he's sitting towards the back and watching the patrons go as he rifles through a stack of files provided by bar.

He's stuck.

Which is all right (he assumes) because he's Director of Homeland Security and no one would dare harm him.

So he's stuck and sitting towards the back reading through a thick stack of files that read something like this.

NAME: Allison Markowitz
ALIAS: 'Allie', 'Veritas'
DOB:-

At the end of what should be a very standard list of information is a final entry.

ABILITY: Retrocognition.
STATUS In custody.

Stupid Bitch had the affrontry to say that "She would have done the same as him if faced with what he'd gone through."

mop-jockey.livejournal.com

The thing about a door is, you have to open it, to close it. Simple as that.

Lenny leaves a note for anyone that needs to know where he is:

Went home, Mom needs me. Took the chickens, don't worry about them- Lenny

[ooc: Pulling Lenny out for the rest of the week. :)]

princeinexile

[OOM: Everybody has their own ways of coping when someone's broken their heart. Zuko's involves heavy exertion and exhausting himself.]

He came back this morning; a flash of magic and he was here with a duffel bag and some crates, which were hauled upstairs, where he vanished for a good part of the day.

Now he's back: Marching down the stairs with crates filled with stuff. It's marched right out the door out behind the bar. One, two, three crates are marched out a good ways from the bar, to a nice clear spot somewhere between the inlet that leads to the ocean and the shooting range. Good and flat here.

You see, when someone is practically living with you, they tend to leave a lot of stuff behind. Stephanie's things fill those small crates. So, is this the Milliways version of leaving your ex's stuff on the lawn? Yeah, maybe a little. But he's not done yet. After all, there's still that duffel bag...

...and nobody does 'I've been hurt and now I'm upset' like Prince Zuko.

From the duffel bag comes two tin containers with spouts -- igniter fluid. The crates are doused (even if it's not really NEEDED) and a swift motion later, they're on fire.

He folds his arms and watches them burn. After all -- in the Fire Nation, this is what they do with trash. Zuko ought to know -- he's been treated like garbage before. He's gotten used to it. But that doesn't mean that he's not the son of Ozai, brother to Azula.

Prince Zuko can be vengeful, when pressed.

ahogarse.livejournal.com

There's a shadow in a booth.

A distortion in the air. A dark patch.

You could be forgiven for not noticing it, almost. But he's there.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Spoon is working with a speargun. He's shooting it, over and over, into a tree. Each shot means he needs to get the spear back (he's only going to spend one on trees, thank you), but the shots getting closer and closer to where he wants them to go. He is not hunting anything living; he's still in his vegetarian part of the month.

jacks-dead.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: A conversation, followed shortly by a death.]

I was always with you.

I was ...

You may not have noticed the arrival of the girl in black, which isn't surprising: She didn't either. Losing consciousness will do that to a person. But nevertheless, there she is, slowly waking up on the floor.

Muttered, fuzzy: "What the ..."

The first thing Kyra sees is ceiling, low, wooden ceiling that looks nothing like the great hall she's left-- left? That doesn't make sense.

Not to mention she doesn't hurt anymore.

Slowly, Kyra runs a hand up to her stomach, which she can do and shouldn't be able to. Feels for anything in pain, any internal ruptures-- she knows she got it right in the spinal cord, there should be something-- but there isn't. Slowly, she starts to roll over, and she can do that too. Feels carefully up and down her back.

Nothing.

Glancing around in confusion, sharp and wary:

"... Riddick?"

[OOC: Information about Kyra may be found here. She's coming fresh from canon, and so is recently deceased.]

berryberryraz.livejournal.com

Raspberry at bar,
being Delicate Flower;
talk to her, Bar-lings!

vonschwannsee.livejournal.com

There is something that people a thousand years ahead of Odile take advantage of and do not even think about it.

Clear, bright light, at all hours of the day. No flickering of the dim light of candles. And while she could easily conjour up good light to use, why waste the effort when she can easily come to Milliways and procure a table, something to drink-

And use the readily available light here while Odile works on repairing a book.

That is something else most people take for granted. This book is hand bound, hand written, illustrated with rare pigments and gold leaf. Easily quite valuable, and from the rusty stain on the front cover, its probably worth more than someone's life-

Or at least it was, once. Which is why Odile is being very careful as she sorts through some of the pages that have gotten loose.

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

Outside, stalking about the lake, is Simon Skinner, who, according to his delusion, is not deep in thought. He may be frowning, his forehead creased, but he is not, according to his delusion, deep in thought. He's just itching to get out of the bar, is all.

morelikeasponge.livejournal.com

[OOC: A dream.]

This time Peter's not surprised to see Milliways. Not exactly thrilled, either, but there are worse places to be.

He stays visible, and he scans the crowd as he moves toward the bar.

Nothing happened last time. A drink should be safe.

oh-frak-me.livejournal.com

*Kara heads downstairs and grabs a cup of coffee before she sits down at a table. She has a deck of cards but she's mostly just shuffling them endlessly and trying not think at all*

wizard_dresden

[There's a lazy wizard behind the bar, plucking at the strings of a guitar. Whatever he's playing might not be exactly music, but he's getting better - really.]

In the meantime:

"So, while the gimp is picking on a guitar, who wants a drink?"

[We're not sure if the skull can actually serve drinks, but we'll find out...]

wizard_howell

Sophie says she prefers his hair dark, but he's never claimed he isn't vain: just because he's engaged to be married doesn't mean he has to stop playing around with lotions and potions.

(Personally, he preferred the pure white; it was a stylistic choice if ever there was one.)

Tonight, he's blonde.

Doing actual work for the King is wearying. So wearying, in fact, he's beginning to wonder if it will ever be finished. There's been precious little time to spend with his Sophie: it's been nothing but work, and that makes for a dull wizard, or so he believes. Besides, even the most dedicated, focused of people deserves a glass of cider from time to time.

"I liked it better," he says to no one in particular, "when my time was my own."

Back in the good old days before stirrings of war, that bold move from the Strangians to the north. Why did they have to decide to move on Ingary at such a precarious time? He's got better things to do than make supply kits for the whole of the King's army. He's getting married, for heaven's sake. The middle of a war is no time for that.

If this is what being a steadily employed adult is all about, he'll say no, thank you. He doesn't want to turn into a carbon-copy of his sister: miserable, irritated, always foul-tempered. A glass of cider is just what he needs to wash that unsavory thought away. Taking it into his hands, he studies its golden hue (much like his hair, he's glad to notice) before he takes a sip:

Perfect.

killitwithfire

Axel's sitting slouched in the couch by the fire. This is not unusual. Nor is the steaming mug of tea sitting on the side table.

What is unusual is the book that he's reading.

It's even more bizarre if you know him.

laceandarsenic.livejournal.com

Gert is sitting out by the lake, dipping her bare feet into the cool water and relaxing in the dying rays of the sun while her dinosaur stalks demon bunnies at the edge of the forest. It's nice, she thinks, to just be able to relax without having to be constantly on guard for the next super villain, or Captain America, or Social Services.

paladinsuitsyou

Booth's in a pretty good mood, all things considered. He's back at work, off psychiatric leave, and feeling pretty happy about life.

So he orders a beer and some chips (salt and vinegar), and grabs a stool, watching the other patrons.

skidrowseymour.livejournal.com

"Someone show me a way to get outta here....'Cuz I constantly pray I'll get outta here...."

Seymour is lying sprawled in a booth, singing as he watches the rafter. His clothes smell faintly of BO, and there's a nasty brown stain on that clean white shirt, and a beer bottle beside him. There were others, which the rats presumably have taken away.

The singing continues, at varying volume. Sometimes really loud ("TELL LADY LUCK!"), sometimes in a mutter ("that I'm stuck here").

He's going to continue.

carefulwishes.livejournal.com

Eden enters the bar, in a full-body black leather outfit that screams 'spy'. She blinks a few times, then chuckles.

Unlike the last two times she was here, she doesn't immediately rush out of the bar. Instead, she takes a table close to the Door. She's done her job and, thanks to a great deal of help from the Haitian, it went well: she captured one of the most dangerous men in her universe.

It kinda makes a girl want to celebrate. (Well, yes, there's still guilt issues and dying issues and daddy issues, but Eden is forcing herself to forget those plzkthnx.)

"Hey there, waitrat!" Eden calls, already beginning to people-watch the bar. "I want something amazing. And expensive. Like...." Eden hasn't eaten fancy in a while.

Maybe someone could give her some suggestions!

bannion_sight

She'd been trying to catch up on a few professional journals, but the quiet of the apartment (so much quieter these days, without Jen, although she tries not to think about that) had been getting on her nerves to the point where she was unable to concentrate at all.

Finally, utterly exasperated with herself, Kim had gathered everything up and headed off to Milliways. Now she's curled up against the back of a corner booth, the latest issue of the Canadian Medical Association Journal propped up in front of her and a cup of coffee at hand.

pwyll_twiceborn

[OOM: In the cottage that will soon be their home, Paul and Jaelle discuss the future and the past.

Old habits die hard, but a learning curve is not, after all, such a terrible thing.]

k_in_black

[OOM: You might recall a certain slime-covered and glowing Man in Black from a few days ago.

Well, Agent K had a feeling he hadn't seen the last of the glow worms of Yekub IX, and sure enough, he was right.]

last-king.livejournal.com

Look quickly, when the door opens, and you'll see low, rolling foothills covered in rich green grass under a clear blue sky--country that looks almost too perfect to be real.

And then the door closes, and there's nothing to see but Tirian of Narnia and Eustace Scrubb, both smiling, somehow unsurprised to find themselves back in Milliways.