(no subject)

[stupid-scar.livejournal.com]

Day by day by day has passed him by here. Here, in this place of peace that is nearly beyond all war, this second home of his beyond where wars matter anymore. What battles of men and mages matter when all the stars are singing their own deaths hour after hour outside the window?

Day by day until the days seemed almost to melt together sometimes, until one day, he approaches the bar, and instead of his usual butterbeer and breakfast, only a note appears.

It's time.

Harry looks over his shoulder towards the door and nods.

"Thank you, Bar." He rests his hand on the smooth wood surface for several long moments, fishing for words that are not there. He has no words to explain the deepening uncertainty in his heart that has been sleeping like a winter beast all these long, long months, or the sudden fierce love he feels for this place.

She seems to understand.

A second note appears with a large bar of chocolate.

Just in case.

He almost laughs, tucks the chocolate bar into his pocket, and withdraws his hand.

After a short trip to his room to gather what few belongings of his he feels should come home with him, he slips around the tables and to the door, clicking it open easily. He takes one final look around, draws in a deep breath, and leaves.

Whether in this life or the next, the threads that hold souls to the meeting of ways break only when they are meant to. This thread is strong, and will hold no matter what transpires outside that door between now and his return.

Harry isn't one for long good-byes, or allowing others to try to follow or advise or worry, but Bar will thoughtfully provide a note to any of Harry's acquaintences:

It's time.


( OOC )

(no subject)

[notadoctoryet.livejournal.com]

((oom medical student Martha Jones meets a very interesting 'man' known only as the Doctor))

Martha opened the door of the Tardis and looked out at the bar in confusion, this was it? Her one trip? He was taking her to bar, he could travel through time and space and this was where he'd chosen, well that was a bit of a let down.

"Um Doctor?" she said turning back but seeing no sign of the Tardis, "Doctor?!" she said again, this time a little more panicked.

"Great, he's dropped me off in a bar and left me, so much for this being a thank you," she muttered to herself.

(no subject)

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

You know, what's the good of having preternaturally fabulous weather if you aren't going to take advantage of it?

And furthermore, what's the good of having a sharkless lake if you're not going to take advantage of that?

And what's the good of giant squid in that sharkless lake if you don't occasionally descend to the depths to taunt them?



Hence, enter one Puck, now breaststroking rather rapidly towards the shallows. His jeans are slowing him down somewhat, but all in all he swims like a fish: If you're looking hard, you might even catch a flash of gill.

Once safely in shallow water, out of Sunshine Dust's (rather considerable) reach, Puck sits up in the water and sighs.

"Terribly sorry, darling," he calls, a little breathless.

Summertime, and the living is easy?

(no subject)

[allican-do.livejournal.com]

There is a Katara at a table, trying valiantly to make a card tower. She's gotten a few layers already, which would be pretty impressive - if there weren't a thin layer of ice at the table, holding the base cards up and steady.

Katara never was too far above cheating now and then.

(no subject)

[shortofcrazy]

Riley is going back to DC soon. Really and truly. He's even dressed as he was -- jeans, sneakers, dark T-shirt, maroon and brown-striped shirt (left unbuttoned), and a dark brown crushed velvet blazer -- when he stepped through the door a week or two ago. He's sitting at the bar with a half-drank can of Red Bull, a folded-up pair of designer sunglasses, and a magazine opened to an article with a large picture of a red sportscar, all on the bartop beside his laptop, his eyes narrowed in concentration at the computer screen. A game of patience, this is, and skill, and more than a little luck. Riley likes to think he's got at least two of those.

Just one more game of Minesweeper, and he's gonna go.

Just one more.

Click.



Riley mutters things under his breath that are creative and unfit for young ears, and then he starts another new game.

Just one more game.

(no subject)

[sosectu-rior.livejournal.com]

Ilyana's at a booth in a shadowy corner, trying to stay awake while encouraging the baby she holds to stay asleep. They're both tired, but happy. His eyes close, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

She signals a waitrat and orders food for them both. The coffee here is something she's acquired a taste for. She also has (garlic-free) pizza, and
bread. Feel free to swipe some, if you know her--or even don't.

(no subject)

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Milliways has been said to be (among other things, not all of them complimentary) a place for minds to meet, a place for genius plans and cockamamie schemes, a place for kindred spirits to find each other.

Two of those spirits, apparently, are Hawkeye Pierce and Puck.

Both of them being bored on a fine summer evening, they decided-- or rather, Hawkeye decided-- what better than a little fire to shake things up? And what better to lure people out to join the fun, they decided-- or rather, Puck decided-- than a bewitching display of peculiarly faelike decorations? Witchlights add a touch of supernatural class, you know.

And, of course, no luring would be complete without copious amounts of alcohol. (They were both in agreement about that.)

Therefore, out by the lake there is a bonfire, and surrounding that bonfire is a circle of cheerily bobbing fairylights.

It almost looks like the start of a party.


[OOC: PARTAY. Everyone online ever should tag under one of the subthreads or start your own, because parties are awesome and you know you love them. Also WATCH THE SUBTHREADS for Surprise Party Developments.]

(no subject)

[guppy_sandhu]

Were it a film, the music would be dramatic. With electric guitars and various unidentifiable brass instruments.

As it is, the only sound that is heard as the door opens is a vicious barking, snarling. Not your fluffy puppy ripping your daily newspaper. Oh no, this dog sounds like it would not only eat the newspaper, but would finish off the paper boy...

A soggy and bedraggled Guppy dives through the door, pulling off a flying roll made all the more impressive by the fact his hands are tied with a piece of rope. He takes a look around for just a second, then turns and counts slowly in his head. Then, he steps back towards the door and slams it shut with a sideways kick, which would have looked great had he not fallen over backwards.

There is a muffled thu-dump and a whine from outside.

He sits on the floor for a moment, hands still tied, getting his breath back. He doesn't look too bad, physically. His shirt is gone, though his jacket and trousers remain, the latter with blood on the right leg. And he has a very impressive sun tan.

[ooc: Locked to people who know Guppy already please :)]

(no subject)

[young_womble]

There is someone, or something, in a dark corner of the bar.

He got in by mistake.

He can't get out.

At about two and a half feet tall, he keeps low and tries not to be seen.

But he's hungry, and lost, and very frightened.