milliways_bar | Sep. 11th, 2007

Sep. 11th, 2007

OOM : Lincoln, New Mexico - 1879

In which Doc re-enters his place of imprisonment and wonders if leaving Milliways really was the right choice.

perfectblue.livejournal.com

[OOM: First, a conversation between not-quite-allies.

After, former goddesses do not have second thoughts. They do, however, dream.]

aj_crawley

[OOM: Whilst Senator Tam convalesces, life goes on on Londinium.]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Enter one foul-tempered werewolf whose mood has nothing to do with the lunar cycle, for once. When you've searched your property from end to end and spent most of what ought to be your sleep time going over all the territory nearby in search of a particular scent, or of scents with no business being there, and had no results- well, that's usually a good indicator that an amazingly foul mood is on the horizon.

If anyone wants him, Wells is going to be outside at the target range, shooting at things.

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

It is worrying when one of your own hand-picked staff starts slacking off. What would ever give him the impression that he could slack off? Oh, at times there are rumors that circulate about the idle habits of the man in charge, but he's the manager, and he's been the manager for decades. He's earned the right to slack off. Everyone else below him has not earned that right. Following his example of lounging in the manager's office is not a valid excuse, either. Do as he says, not as he does--and besides, nobody tries to mimic his excellent customer service, do they? He's the only person in that store who doesn't look at the customers as if he's afraid or apprehensive. How did he get stuck with such slackers?

These thoughts and more are swirling in the brain of a Simon Skinner near you (if you're at the bar, that is). They are the reason why he is stabbing his salad rather than eating it.

amateur-spy.livejournal.com

The only person who could convince Emma of Milliways' legitimacy has already done so. She now has to grapple with the reality of the bar being at the end of the universe. Luckily, she has the time to do it. The case of Little Bazeley by the Sea is finished. Nothing else to focus on but understanding this bar.

She's outside touring the premises, and is presently staring at the mountains.

shadowsfound.livejournal.com

Kevin's outdoors, finishing up a practice session with a couple of targets and a weapon that most closely resembles a javelin. He'd rather have used firearms, but then again--He's done this sort of exercise at home, though it's been awhile. He does not know guns, and learning as you go sounds like not the best idea under these circumstances.
Explaining to Bar that he needed metal and not wooden weapons had taken some diplomacy.
He's barehanded, his jacket and gloves set nearby. He expects not to be using them when he and Sooraya use her door, too. Might as well keep as realistic as he can.
The oddly shaped target is the one with most of the holes. He takes aim, levering his arm back, to let fly at the "head."

He'll talk to people, but one might want to make some noise before approaching him.

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

Sarah Jane is not in a good mood today. Morning sickness was as bad as ever this morning, she had a horrid time trying to fall asleep last night, and to top it all of: James still isn't back.

All she wants is a proper cup of Earl Grey rather than this herbal mixture she's been forcing herself to have instead. She wants another good cry and she wants to go home. She's not allowing herself any of that.

Instead, she's curled up in her usual armchair, trying to read a book. She's not really succeeding.

mago_sonriente

He's been busy at the camp, hence his absence from Milliways. Oh, and he'd sort of been avoiding the place in the hopes that no one had seen him practically unconscious coming in the door from Ray's Chicago.

The man has his pride.

He'd had to make some excuses to Captain Luccio and do some heavy instructional drill work with his kids (no examples, unfortunately, as he hadn't wanted to touch his magic yet) even after he'd spent a few days recuperating at the end of the universe. Now, though, he looks fit as a fiddle (if dusty and dry).

He's enjoying himself on some sushi and a small bottle of sake at the bar, a cold glass of Cola not far off as he sketches out some equations onto a piece of paper.

wee_hughie

[OOM: Current place in canon, and his mental and physical state.]

A young man, wearing a black trench coat, a green hoodie, blue jeans and Chuck Taylors, steps into the Bar.

He was actually supposed to be stepping into the lobby of the Flatiron Building in New York City. In fact, the bustle of 5th Avenue is just outside the open door. The man, stunned and wide-eyed, turns to look at it, then turns to look at the inside of the pub, then back at the street again, then back at the pub.

"Bloody hell," he mutters with a prominent Glaswegian accent, and he scritches his head. "Well, now. Didnae expect this."

The door swings closed behind him.

[OOC: Slowtimes imminent because of work. Shhh.]

krazyglusurgeon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Cooper woke up.]

gone_byebye

The vehicle that rolls through the front door is a lot more cheerful today than it's been of late. You can tell this by the flashing blue lights on the roof, and by the rolled-down windows through which something upbeat and 80's-sounding is playing. Also by the slightly tinny version of Ray Stantz's voice, which sounds positively jubilant as it says, "Bar? I would very much appreciate it if you could provide me with something in the SE Johnson Company's line of glass cleaners and a few suitable cloths. I promise I'll take the whole lot outside.

There's some hesitation, and then a couple of bottles appear, along with a stack of folded towels.

"Sweet," says the car. A complicated, multiply-jointed metallic arm snakes its way out from under the driver's side front door and reaches up to neatly stack the bottles and cloths on one of the few empty spaces on the car's roof. Then it retracts back out of sight. "Thanks!"

The car then rolls through the remaining empty space and heads for the back door. It'll be outside if anyone needs it, although it can be stopped indoors- it's not like it's moving very quickly.

the_lioness

[OOM: Homecoming.]

candied-rabbit.livejournal.com

Momiji looks, for once in his life, depressed - not cutely sad or theatrically bawling, as is his usual wont, but just quietly, carefully depressed.

He'd come in this afternoon, almost as soon as school let out, figuring that he could study for his history test tomorrow and still take in most of the afternoon fun for the day. Unfortunately, almost as soon as he'd gotten into the Bar, he'd realized that he'd left his textbook at school...and then the door back to his world wouldn't open again. He'd figured it was a fluke, at first, but the door was completely gone by the time he'd gotten back from ordering some tea.

He's not entirely sure what to do, now, and, in lieu of anything else, he's sitting on a stool with his back to the bar, gawking at the space in the wall where his door used to be. Maybe it'll show back up, soon?

oh-wowee.livejournal.com

There's no such thing as celebrity depression. And even if it existed, Toki was certainly not suffering it!

But he was moody, and plucking away at the guitar strings idly as he smoked a cigarette (As he so often did to relieve stress), eyeing the various strange people in the bar. They all seemed to be going through their own bouts of Not Celebrity Depression, too.

He figured it was probably the new moon.
With a pad of paper beside him, a fully sharpened pencil beside it, and a bottle of hard melonade in close proximity, he sat up, cigarette dangling from his lips as he flipped the switch on his amp to On and started playing a thick, melodramatic rhythm.

If it's annoying anyone, he'll keep it down.

krazyglusurgeon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Into the darkness.]

Current Music: Tom McRae - You Only Disappear

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

OOM: Nisos' village.

killwhatyouhunt.livejournal.com

[OOM: Riddick finds that he's no longer in the Chamber of the Quasi-Dead]

When he drops down from the highest place in the Chamber of the Quasi-Dead it isn't the floor of the chamber that his feet hit. Instead, its grass. The blade in his hand that he's holding tightly is dripping with the blood of the few Necromongers that he slit the throat of. With his free hand he reaches up and slips the goggles up a bit, illuminating blue eyes taking in the scenery before him. It was a huge stretch of land... lake nearby and a building off in the distance. It was all foreign to him.

This definitely wasn't Necromonger territory.

"...What the fuck?" Perhaps the Quasi-Dead had gotten to him and he just didn't know it yet.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi is settled down in her favorite chair, Security badge visible, watching the bar. She's also knitting, but she doesn't need to watch that, her ventral tentacles keep everything straight. She's dressed in something a little more tame than her usual eye-burning blend of colors, patterns, and fabrics. It's hard to get too wild if you're just wearing a dress instead of a hodge-podge of things. It's satin, Whistler likes satin, Suzi likes the flowers. (She just wishes they were, you know, orange or something.) Even her shoes are blue instead of red!

Jingle-jingle-jingle.

thejazzmaverick.livejournal.com

[OOM: Howard decided to initiate a weekend filled with spring cleaning, but his flat mates were less than enthusiastic.]

Howard Moon didn't think the closets of their Dalston flat were that deep, but there were always surprises when the shaman Naboo was involved.

He had witnessed his share of odd and equally exciting things in his time, but crawling into Naboo's messy closet and winding up at a pub he had never seen before...

That definitely took him by surprise.

He got to his feet, taking a look around as he straightened himself out. He turned around, looking behind him for some sign of the closet from which he had come. But it wasn't there.

Too busy to notice the frilly apron he was still wearing from his cleaning, he took a few cautious steps toward the bar.

"Pardon... but... could anyone here... possibly tell me where exactly here is?"

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace trudges into the bar from out back, disheartened and disheveled. Spoon wasn't in any of the places she looked. There wasn't even a trail of Spoon going through any of the places she looked. There were just too many where and whens to find one person.

She clambers up onto a barstool and orders the largest mocha (with extra chocolate) she can manage. Gotta keep going.

prone-to-panic.livejournal.com

((OOC: Because they are beyond due, there is an Office thread and a meeting thread Millitimed to when they happened.))

azure-mercy.livejournal.com

Zhaan is sitting at a table by the Observation Window. In the middle of the table is a neat pile of books, papers (her students' classword) and a digital writing tablet (effectively, her own notebook). At her elbow is a half-finished bowl of something that looks like chocolate malt balls (they aren't) and right in front of her, clasped in both hands, is a mug of tea. She is watching the Window with a distant, troubled expression.

gil-whimple.livejournal.com

Out by the lake one faun shakes droplets of water from his coat and squelches up the bank. There on the grass he lays down to dry off, enjoying the September sunshine and looking over the lake and the shadowy forest beyond.

If he listens hard he can almost hear the pipes of other fauns.

If he strains his eyes he can almost see beyond the lake to a castle and school where once he was a pupil and once he was unhappy.

But the grass under his back is warm so he lets his head roll back with a sigh.

awesome_lilly

Lilly's grabbed a seat at the bar for a bellini and some people-watching because seriously, there's no better place to do it in all the universes.

She may also be keeping an eye out for suave older men, but that's for Sallie. Really.

otherlife.livejournal.com

[Pre-Milliways: Sorve meets the Envoy.]

---

( An Arrival and a Ghost )

---

Hours later, in the evening, two curious, quiet people are down in the bar. At first glance, they may seem to be mother and daughter: both dark-skinned (the elder, whose age is difficult to tell, darker than the younger, who looks about 20) with downward-tilting eyes and a subtlety of expression that makes them both difficult to read; and both under five feet tall, though the elder has a stockier build than the younger. The elder wears plain pants and a shirt, clothing loose enough that it might well hide curves of body that might be proof of gender. The younger, sitting behind on the table twisting little braids into the parent's hair, wears a garment reminiscent in design of a sundress, covering chest and hips but leaving hairless legs bare. Neither wears shoes. They converse in quiet voices, comfortable in one another's company -- but they would welcome strangers.

talkstohats

Sometimes, Sophie thinks the King's quota would be impossible to fill in the time that they have even without a wedding to plan on top of it - and that's without even mentioning the secret side plan to sabotage an enemy army..

Fortunately, Milliways can always provide a certain amount of stolen time. Sophie's now sitting at a booth, once again muttering over the seemingly endless pile of bandages for medical kits.

. . . all right, not all of the white fabric she's brought is for bandages.

petraarkanian.livejournal.com

Petra sits at the bar with a plate of food in front of her. It is a very western type, steak, green beans, corn and mashed potatos. She's eating a small smile on her face as she eats.

No unhappy thoughts are allowed right now.

sweetdinoangel.livejournal.com

[OOM: Kira finds a couple dino eggs]

"Great... this can't be happening... not now." She'd been aiming to go straight to Dr. Oliver. But the yellow ranger was now in the Bar. The bag over her shoulder was being carried with the utmost care. "Okay, guys... remember... no hatching on me." Because that would just cause more trouble than she thinks they could handle right now. And even though she should probably head out the door she remembers what her science teacher had told her. Which is the whole reason why she's scanning the Bar to see if she can find him. Because this... yeah, very important.

Why did it have to be today of all days?

guppy_sandhu

The doctor is in

Guppy is by the infirmary, looking through a cardboard box of stuff. Sounds like his grandmother got wind of his lack of furniture from somewhere.

He's grateful, though he's not sure a cheese grater shaped like a bunny is at the top of his priorities. He checks the rest of the box carefully, never entirely sure what he's going to find in these parcels.

themerlin

[OOM: Merlin's 10 - Year 7 - The Year of Healing - In which, awoken, Merlin finds simple is sometimes the best.]

aggro-speed.livejournal.com

It's been one of those days.

No. One of those days. The kind of day when you mistake someone you really care about for a much more dangerous lookalike.

And then he went home and hung around Dom to be sure he was okay until he got, "Brian. What are you looking at? You're starting to worry me, here."

Brian comes in, and Bar gives him a bottle the moment he gets near. He pauses, then takes it.

"Two more?"

Find him at a booth and pat him on the head, please. He's having a bad day.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

Atton's outside, shirtless and barefoot, his weapons belts hung on a tree, running through various movements for a specific Echani style and occasionally (when he gets frustrated with the lack of live targets to beat up - Already being Bound is starting to grate on him) punching or kicking whichever tree happens to be nearest. There tends not to be much more left of them after that.

He's getting rather sweaty (and starting to smell), a result of engaging in physical activity of for quite a while now. First there was running, then swimming, then lightsaber training, then more running, and so on. Being Bound and bored, there's not much else for him to do.

Botherable.

smart-house.livejournal.com

It's a good day.

SARAH's door appears, right next to her sign affixed by Ray Stantz:

The door to the right of this sign, and the rooms behind it, are part of SARAH, a self-aware house and machine intelligence. SARAH is fond of visitors, human and otherwise, and welcomes meeting new people. She is not paranormal or supernatural in any way that I can tell.

-Dr. Raymond Stantz, Ghostbusters

But more than that?

She's going to have residents. The new Sheriff!

"I really must tell Doctor Fargo I want to rearrange the living room," SARAH says to no one in particular, voice echoing up from the concrete stairway beyond her steel door.

awesome_lilly

[OOM: Dean makes good on a promise to start instructing Lilly in the fine art of shooting the crap out of stuff. Good times!]

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

She sighs sitting back having had trouble every time she tries to go in to the room she's staying in she's ending up here. That has never happened for her before. She's mostly had control what takes her here and what doesn't. It's not that she minds all that much but.. Sometimes you just want to go where your suppose to when you go though a door.

morelikeasponge.livejournal.com

Peter's sitting at the bar, guzzling coffee like there's no tomorrow.

Which is a possibility. But the bags under his eyes suggest that this is not the reason he's trying to down enough caffeine to fuel a small nation.

simon_doctor

Out of Milliways: Still Life With Sake, or, In Which Jayne Turns Down An Invitation To Violence.

ushouldcwhatic.livejournal.com

John was in the bar tonight, over at the bar in fact with a beer and a basket of fried paradoxes. He wouldn't mind sharing while he engaged in the time honored tradition of Milliways known as people watching.

prydeful

She's curled up in the corner of the couch, and thinking. Sort of. She should, anyway, because--well, there's a lot to think about.

Among the things to think about is how much longer she's going to put off going back to her world. And how to make that work.

She's sure she can, is the thing, and she's sure amnesty is an option. She knows it is. It's just--

There's a lot to think about. And most of her doesn't want to, so her fingers are drumming on the back of the couch and Kate's gaze keeps drifting across the room. Eventually she gives up and goes to bar, returning with coffee and a crossword puzzle and a pen.

And then her brow is furrowed for a different reason. Note to self: be more specific next time about it being a crossword puzzle from her own time and world and culture. This is not to say that she is not periodically scratching letters on the page anyway.

...And mostly making faces at the paper and looking up again for long periods of time to watch the room and sip coffee.

steelartisan

Piotr's brought his sketchpad again. This should come as no surprise at all to those who know him.

He's sitting crosslegged on the couch -- which is just barely big enough for that -- so he can balance the pad on one knee while he works.

The current project seems to be a detailed sketch of the bar, including a wide assortment of patrons at tables and wandering to and from Bar. Some of the people he's filling in from memory; many of them he's drawing from life.