milliways_bar | Aug. 20th, 2007

Aug. 20th, 2007

[OOM: After a disappointing turn of events, Tristran and Yvaine camp outside of Wall. There is more Awkward and drunken antics - mostly on Tristran's part. It all makes for some jolly good fun, really. Well, for some anyway.

Then later that night, Yvaine is met with a mysterious presence who comes to give her warning.]

tall-dark-and.livejournal.com

Riku's sitting at the bar itself, drinking from a root beer. He hasn't been to the realms of darkness in a few days, and he's more of his right mind. Fidgetting like crazy, Riku is tapping his fingers on the glass and the bar and anything else his hands might be resting on. He keeps glancing around every few minutes, ready to approach or escape, depending on who he might spot.

Distract him before he works himself into a nervous stupor?

slightlymonkish.livejournal.com

[OOM: Every man has his own destiny: the only imperative is to follow it, to accept it, no matter where it leads him...

Even though you have the ability to change fate doesn't mean that fate is going to allow the change to occur.

... but he still tried.

Warnings for death and grief.]

gonna_live

[So there's a fight.]

[Warning for continuation of potentially-triggering emotional topics.]

leftthecradle.livejournal.com

BANG!

That was the Door flying open.

Zzzzat-zooot-zat-zat-BOOM!

And that would be the sounds of some sort of fighting going on outside it. Fortunately, the tall, robed and armored figure standing in the opening appears to have some sort of energy shield which is keeping the energy bolts from endangering any patrons quite nicely.

The helmeted head turns slightly as if he just noticed what's behind him.

"I advise you stand down and surrender," he says to whoever's doing the shooting. "The delegates are out of your reach. Further violence will not have a favorable result."

The only response is an increase in the tempo of the blasts.

"Very well."

With his back to Milliways and his massive encounter suit blocking the Door entirely, it's pretty much impossible to see exactly what his return salvo is...but there is an impressive flash of light and an even more impressive BOOM as he steps backwards into the Resturant at the End of the Universe. The Door swings shut with a quiet click.

"That," he says as he turns to face the room, "was most unpleasant. It is definitely time for tea."

mendanddefend_archive

Shapeshifting and energy attacks require a lot of power; as such, a keytool's internal energy reserve is about double that of a sprite. Since Bob's code was fixed, Glitch has been trying to build that reserve back up to a level it's comfortable with, which is wreaking havoc on its host's metabolism.

Long story short: Bob is hungry.

He's seated at a table set with a large plate of binary burgers, a proportionally sized plate of chips, and a jumbo/LARGE energy shake. He's only been here ten minutes, but he's already put a sizeable dent in each one.

Do you dare interrupt his feeding frenzy?

Current Mood: hungry

gone_byebye

Ray got up last night to head back to Chicago and found the door locked on him. Weird, but oh, well. The Bar doesn't usually keep him here- it sends him to alternate universes instead when it's being capricious, so this is actually kind of a step up. It's not like Chicago won't be waiting when the door appears again.

At least, that's what he's thinking when he tries the door this morning and finds it still locked. With a sigh he shuffles over to the Bar (he's still wearing his Incredible Hulk slippers) for a bowl of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs.

indie-cine.livejournal.com

[OOM: The movie, she is done!]

EXT. DELANCEY ST., LOWER EAST SIDE, NYC - NIGHT

Super-Indie Filmmaker NICK REVE, with two reels of FILM and a red spiral-bound NOTEBOOK tucked securely under his arm, steps out of a CAB. Dressed all in BLACK - black jeans, black boots, a black leather jacket, and several layers of black shirts to keep out the cold, he enters a building.

INT. BUILDING STAIRWELL

Nick trudges up the five flights of STAIRS to his apartment. He fumbles for his KEYS. He opens the DOOR. He goes inside.

INT. MILLIWAYS BAR

NICK
(gaping)
What the hell...?!

[OOC: Slowtimes are in effect.]

dust-to-order.livejournal.com

Sooraya's in!
She's at a table near the karaoke machine, shiny Security badge and all.

She has tea, and a book, but peoplewatching gets most of her attention. She'll pause occasionally to drink or skim the pages.

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Even with her long-lost lover and companion, Roxanne, returned, and even with Spoon's sudden but not at all unappreciated near attack of affection, Ace is a busy little pyro in her own right. After all, she put most of her stock of boom into Cyberman-defeating, leaving her rather short in the explosives department.

Thus, Ace is back to tinkering with her little projects, all in various stages of completion.

She also has coffee, but that's only because it was a very long... exhausting sort of night.

hippodamio

Studying, Hektor has found, grows rapidly less appealing the longer one does it, even if the subject is dear to one's heart. Sonezu's book is enough to make any man's head swim; so even though he knows he must commit it to memory, he puts it aside for now. The bronze dagger he brought with him (he carries it everywhere, save into his father's presence) is in need of honing and polishing, and after that he is going to look for someone he might practice with. It would not do, to go out of practice in the time that he must stay away from Troy.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Spoon didn't come home last night. Wells assumed that was a good thing, and managed to get through the day at the Academy without the ferocious itching under his eyepatch driving him completely 'round the twist. He still needs to let off some steam, though, so he's out back with the target set up for the shooting range.

That whole thing that certain people have about 'I aim with my eye, he who aims with his hand is a dog's tonker who doesn't know sod-all about guns'? It's a lucky thing Wells didn't live by that credo, 'cos he'd be cursing about it now. Apparently, the eye that he lost is the eye that he aimed with.

Still, he's working on it.

herostanding.livejournal.com

[ OOM: After a meeting with the Chief of State, Jacen Solo writes in his journal. ]

candied-rabbit.livejournal.com

Momiji Sohma, apparently, has gotten used to the Bar at the end of the Universe quite quickly.

That, or he's doing a very good job of disguising his nervousness with the plate of vibrantly colored cookies and the large glass of milk that he's managed to procure from Bar. Because who can be nervous around cookies?

And, so, he's sitting at the bar and snacking and singing a chipper, little song to himself, watching all around at all the other patrons. He's also, as far as one can tell, completely unaware that either the music or the gawking might be taken as bothersome by his fellow patrons.

He's a good singer, after all. Well, kinda. Even if he does make the words and music up as he goes along.

...No one's ever told him he's a bad singer, at least!

notboundnow.livejournal.com

Somebody's being a bum.

Somebody is taking up an entire couch, with his feet dangling off one end.

Depending on who you are, this may or may not give you leave to sit on him.

shadowsfound.livejournal.com

No matter how tired and overwhelmed by the weirdness that is Milliways, one has to sleep eventually.

Kevin did precisely that after he'd spoken to Marian, and collected a room key from Bar.

He woke almost sixteen hours later. First priority, check downstairs.

Nope. No door was there, despite glimpses of it as other patrons left or returned.

A growling(and empty) stomach diverted his attention. He went to Bar. "Hey, or good afternoon. Uh, this may sound odd, but what I'd love right now? Fish and chips, and cold beer. I know it's not exactly gourmet food but--"

Bar materialized a generous helping of said dish.(with vinegar, of course)..but the accompanying can was Hires Root Beer. Entirely nonalcoholic, though ice-cold.

Kevin tried again.
A second can appeared. Ginger Ale.

"...I'm being carded by a chunk of wood. Okay, good enough. I surrender. "

hktimes47.livejournal.com

A droid runs towards the door of the bar in a frenzy, towards the lake area, his huge blaster cannon leveled. He sees his prey, much to his chagrin, through the glass. HK savagely kicks open the door and starts blasting, seemingly randomly, before he's even outside. His bolts race towards their small, fuzzy targets and burn holes in the poor organics. He targets them as quickly as they appear. The more he sees, the angrier he gets, and more blood thirsty he becomes. His last extermination attempt is seemingly in vain, and his reputation has taken a severe hit. He refuses that shame to fall on him, or his Master.

Within moments, he's already killed several dozen of the rodents. Satisfied, he moves on, crisping more and more as he makes his way toward the lake.

bright_daughter

Star is presently sitting in a booth--

Correction. Sitting on a booth table. Correction. Sitting half an inch above the booth table.

--with a card spread laid out wide in front of her. On the table.

The pup is here with minimalism and focus. The mun says there is room for distraction and interaction.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Ronald Witherspoon (Spoon. Just Spoon.) is not a happy man. Oh, last night was...long. And long. With longness and being very long, but there are better ways to spend your time than convincing your girl that really she doesn't need to look elsewhere. Really, she doesn't need a female lover.

Really.

...He's not resting on his laurels. The bird is still around, somewhere, and he's not going to give up. Spoon is engaged in some in-depth study of romance right now. He's got Barry Manilow on headphones, Shakespeare's sonnets open on his knees, and any number of bodice-rippers with post-it notes hanging out of them.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

foxy-l33t.livejournal.com

Despite how things may be going for coworkers back in the Lab, Laini has had a good day herself. (The hidden explosions will stop soon enough, and not like it is going to happen again, considering what just got added to The List, now.)

So, she is here at the End of the Universe, leaning back in a chair, sipping a drink, and letting a (pet? gadget?) metallic green and gold large beetle run around one hand while she watches it, bemused. (It may even be named Ringo, but probably for different reasons entirely than you would think.)

little-miss-sue.livejournal.com

If you've seen her, you know her.

If you haven't seen her... you probably know her as well.

Mary Sue, as she is known by some, has entered the bar again, this time from the upstairs...

[ooc: please make sure to tag all Mary-Sue related threads with 'Mary Sue Must Die', thanks!]

talkstohats

[OOM: In which Howl and Sophie employ cunning subterfuge.]

walksthebounds

[Pre-Milliways: Jamie leaves a world.]

A thirteen-year-old boy comes through the door, looking around with clear curiosity.

He's never seen a Boundary that entered into such a public building before. Usually they're sacred sort of places; not at all the kind people frequent to drink in.

. . . if this is the same sort of world as the last one he was in, he'll likely be thrown out in a minute. Hastily, Jamie starts trying to think of a cover story, even as he looks around for someone to ask - sneakily - about what sort of world this will turn out to be.

collects_ears

Some days it is infinitely easier to be creative than others.

Let's pretend today is one of those creative days, alright? Fantastic!

Bartender. Friendly chap, most folk would agree. Happy to serve you.

"Tonight's Specials are: Kir Martini, Kiss Me Quick, Kokopa and Kori's Saturday Night Special".

Whistling to himself.

"What'll it be?"

song_tra_bong

Mary Anne's down in the bar tonight, a glass of tequila and twirling a knife in the other. She's chosen to sit on the opposite side of the bar from a certain other patron. Not that she expects this will prevent him from noticing her, but a girl can dream.

Until then, she's content to drink and stare into the middle distance. Some company wouldn't go unappreciated, though.

(Please to be distracting from Satan, kthanx?)

guppy_sandhu

From outside the bar there's a shrill beeping sound.

Then the smell of smoke.

Guppy enters the bar, coughing, realises where he is and darts over to the bar.

"Fire extinguisher...thanks." He grabs it and dashes back out of the door, closing it to just a crack.

About ten minutes later the beeping has stopped, he re-emerges, putting the empty fire extinguisher back on the bar.

"It wasn't me." he says to anyone who happens to be watching. He orders dinner from Bar and heads over to a booth.

notjustananimal.livejournal.com

The door opens. On the other side are poorly lit stone hallways.

"This isn't the kitchen! OH. THE DOOR!"

Wolf whirls around and checks the door to make sure that it will open. It does.

Commence with the BIGGEST sigh of relief just about anyone has ever seen. It would Not. Do. to get Bound.

"Hunh. Not much has changed."

dr_temperance

[OOM: During a lull between cases, Brennan and Angela indulge in some girl talk squint-style.]

captainryan.livejournal.com

Ryan's average day is really quite long. He's up very early to do laps through the woods, and every other day swordplay with Garion, before coming in to eat a monster breakfast (no pun intended). After that, it's upstairs to practice his delicate metalwork in Suzi's workshop before it's back downstairs for lunch. The afternoons are usually devoted to training with Deitmar and then swordplay on the pells or on the range with the P226, but as the pup is still recovering from his death experience, Ryan has devoted all of that time to the swordplay. That he does until the sun nearly sets, then it's inside for dinner. Finally, with Zuko out of the forge, Ryan takes his own turn in the blacksmith shop.

He's just finished practicing his marksmanship when he comes in for dinner. He casts a watchful eye around the bar, per usual, before heading for Bar. He's no more tired than usual, and entirely botherable.

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

Despite being reprimanded once for his bad habit, Skinner can't keep his legs off the table. It's comfortable, dammit, and if people are uppity about germs, perhaps they shouldn't be eating at a public bar. So he is defiantly keeping his legs on the tabletop today. Admonish him for his bad manners till your face turns blue; chances are, he won't listen. Unless you're pretty.

morelikeasponge.livejournal.com

Peter is tucked away in a corner booth, multitasking. He's got dinner, and he's got a book. Unfortunately, his attention is distributed unevenly between the two, and pieces of chicken keep dribbling out the back of the sandwich and onto his plate.

Worth noting: his bangs are gone. Or at least combed back from his forehead.

k_in_black

Agent K strides in through the Front Door. It’s been a while, and just seeing the bar is enough to put a spring in the Man in Black’s step. At least until he hears a distinctive 'click' behind him.

K stops in the threshold, and turns around to give his world an annoyed squint--and then a look of alarm.

“N! N, you really don’t want to be pushing tha--.”

There is a loud BANG!! and a second later an equally loud FWOOMP!! as a cloud of white, powdery, plaster-of-Paris smacks K right in the face.

No one can actually see the baleful glare K gives N, but they can definitely see him shake his head, get a grip on the Door, and shut it firmly behind him. Which is just about when the more sharp-eared patrons will hear the first, Zed-ish bellow of "WHAT IN THE FUCK DID YOU DO NOW?!?!"

But with the Door safely shut, that's not K's problem. So the Man in ~~Black~~ White is free to walk over to Bar and get a well-deserved drink. And, possibly, a towel.